Lot of zeroes in the news this morning. “O”s and numerical oblong circles. If we did it in crisper style, it would be 10/02/2020. Not a great surprise, I suppose, but I was still mulling the nomination to the High Court, and the raucous argument we accepted as a debate this week. I thought things were quite as strong as they were going to get before Senate hearings and a second session with the two White guys running for the presidency of this great Republic.

This morning, the plague is back in new news, swiping the First Family and sparking additional hysteria. I was inclined to think that the worst of this was behind us, and COVID had become more political than medical in aspect during the chaotic circus that our nation accepts as reality. Maybe it is just pulling away from the old news were are used to.

I recall the Queen’s Prime Minister, Mr. Boris Johnson, was struck a few months ago. He received first class treatment, and being only about “56” years of age, recovered quickly. That Mr. Trump popped positive at age 74, with a certain beefy comorbidity factor may be something else. I am sure we will argue about that until the two-week lockdown is past, and the hearings are nearly complete, and the second debate looms, and there will be plenty of opportunities for bitter acrimony about something I thought was done a few months ago.

Yesterday seems almost quaint. Remember the health issue? Someone claimed the French-fries at McDonald’s might be good to encourage hair growth.

I guess we will see. Or we won’t. I have pals who are older and younger in the space-time continuum. Statistics suggest the older cohort are more vulnerable to the virus, and that younger cadres are much less so. There could be more to all this, but whatever it is, the next couple weeks will have an entirely new dimension. I saw MSNBC talking about a new civil war this morning- the details are a little sketchy, of course- though Madam Pelosi’s status as #3 in line to the Presidency has been floated with hope.

Viewing this from the perspective of age, we have agreed at Refuge Farm to maintain a commonsense approach. We will continue to avoid fellow citizens as we can. We will mask to avoid dissension in public places, though not in the orderly confines of the Farm Bubble. Yes, we have outsiders visit. Mostly delivery people, whose hard work has enabled the bubble to subsist without leaving the bubble.

Yesterday, a White working man with suitable mask entered the structure to change filters on the fancy air cleaner and inspect a new thermostat that wildly exceeds my ability to understand its functions. It calls the cell phone to demand system updates and corrections.

New things- technology- augment the more orderly changes of the passing of the days. Rumors are that one of the candidates has had body implants to enable close advisors to suggest answers to pesky questions. I am sure we will confront a human society tagged like our suburban pets someday, and perhaps soon.

I ran across the picture at the head of this venture into the public square in one of the ancient archives, surviving the transition from Kodak film to digital format. The sneer below the cowboy hat belonged to a young man of about Boris Johnson’s years whose confidence is unmistakable. I think he thought that his cohort pals of similar age could conquer whatever stood in their path.

I am not at all sure of that, but it did bring back the very energetic tempo of that time, and the certainty that the world could be bent to the desire of youth.

“Bent” was a useful term, back before we understood who was actually going to get bent.

Copyright 2020 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com