Thanks, COVID!

My office has a group text we use to communicate back and forth when we are not in the office or there is some sort of emergency. With this COVID thing we’ve been wearing it out. But it’s also been nice to keep up with how everyone is getting along. Yesterday however, I was the bearer of perhaps the worst news of all...

Me: I regret to inform you all that April Fool’s Day has been cancelled at our office this year.

As most of you know, AFD is the greatest day of the year on my calendar. It has been the occasion of some of the most epic pranks ever attempted. I have terrorized all of them over the years, resulting in a wave of anxiety filling the office in the days leading up to April 1st. I would hear empty threats from some of them, “Doug, I swear you better leave me alone this year. I am not in the mood for your foolishness!!...or this classic, “I suppose its too much to ask that you grow the heck up!!” Still, the pranks kept coming, from the classic clove of garlic implanted in the mouthpiece of Blaire’s phone, to the cabinet and refrigerator filled with orange ping pong balls. But, with the events of 2021, I thought it best to give the Tomfoolery a hard pass. Besides, nobody will be in the office anyway. Thanks, COVID!!

Of course, my announcement provoked a couple of responses from two of my preferred victims:

Response number one: That’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks!!!

Response number two: Amen to that!!

One of those responses came from a hospital bed! 

I felt the need to offer this caveat...

“It should however be noted that—as we all know—AFD pranks are cumulative, which is to say that ones not pulled off in year A roll over to year B, making year B twice as awesome as it would otherwise be. It’s just as well, the remote controlled WUHAN bats I ordered haven’t arrived yet.”

Response number 3: I thought all of us testing positive for COVID was the April Fool’s joke...

Indeed...sigh...

What ARE the Rules, Exactly?

There are eleven people who work at my office. One of them returned from a recent trip and tested positive for COVID after being exposed while away. He only discovered he had been exposed two days after he had returned to the office. Accordingly, the rest of us had to quarantine and be tested for COVID. As of yesterday, six out of eleven have tested positive. So far I am not one of them. I have completed my quarantine and have received two negative COVID tests. Of the six people who have COVID, each has a different set of symptoms, with varying degrees of seriousness. 

All of this brings with it lots of questions. This past Saturday I got my first vaccine...Pfizer. I read an article just yesterday that stated that a preliminary study done with over 4000 vaccine recipients shows that after just two weeks of the first vaccine, the effectiveness rate climbs to 80%! Great news. But this morning I read in the Wall Street Journal an article from the CDC that offered more confusion than clarity. In the piece the question was asked, For fully vaccinated people, what exactly are the rules for engagement going forward, first with other fully vaccinated people and then with the Un-vaccinated? The answers were all over the place.

It appears that fully vaccinated people can have dinner parties, go to restaurants etc etc with other fully vaccinated people with no restrictions. However, when in the presence of Un-vaccinated people or people of unknown vaccination status, full social distancing/masking will still be required. Wait....what?? If all that getting a vaccine does for me is make it so that I can hang around other vaccinated people, how does that help me return to my life? I have labored under the assumption that once two weeks has passed after my second vaccine, I will be 90% in the clear from the risk of COVID. At that point, I would be free to go out and about largely without the ubiquitous mask except on the rare occasion when I might find myself in a packed to the gills indoor tight venue rubbing shoulders with total strangers...like a music concert or something. Of course, other things would not change, such as the much better personal hygiene habits I have developed since COVID, washing my hands multiple times a day, the use of hand sanitizer after touching potentially germ infested surfaces like toilet handles etc..but with a vaccine, I thought I could mostly ditch the mask. Apparently not. If an unvaccinated family member were to drop by the house, the mask is still to be worn?! WHY? If I do not have COVID and my chances of getting it is only 10% thanks to the vaccine...what’s with the mask?

Another problem I see with this is the power that this has to separate us, to segregate us even more than we already are as a nation. All strangers will have to be viewed with suspicion, since their vaccination status is unknown to us. Furthermore, unvaccinated people will now become the new shunned class, I guess. Maybe that’s as it should be. If someone chooses not to get the vaccine, I suppose that person must accept the social consequences of that decision. But the whole thing makes me uncomfortable for some reason that I can not adequately describe in words. Will we at some point be required to wear some sort of identifying badge so strangers will know our vaccination status? That’s Orwellian creepiness!!

Of course, these apprehensions have been brought on by one article in one newspaper. That’s certainly not the end of the story. The one thing I have learned through this ordeal is that knowledge is power and knowledge has to be diligently pursued. I welcome anyone reading this blog who might be in possession of better information to correct my understanding of the situation if I am wrong. I will continue, every single day, to seek out new information wherever I can find it, from the most reputable sources I can find. You should too.

The Mess in the Suez Canal

So, a freak Egyptian sandstorm has put a serious kink in the international supply chain by wedging a quarter mile long super tanker crossways in the Suez Canal!! Engineers from all over the world are scrambling to figure out how to get the 220,000 ton Ever Given container ship un-stuck. Meanwhile, The Suez Canal Authority has so far lost 95 million dollars in revenue as 350 ships lay still in line behind all the mess...

Progress has been painstakingly slow and expensive. What this process needs is some good old fashioned American Ingenuity:

...I’ll let myself out.

A Wedding and a Vaccine

Big, eventful weekend. Went to The Wedding. Got my first COVID vaccine.

After a long, frustrating, and sometimes tortuous journey, my nephew Isaac Nunn married the girl of his dreams, Bernadette Murphy on a stunningly beautiful March Friday afternoon at the Hanover Arts and Activities Center on the railroad tracks in Ashland, Virginia...the Center of the Universe. Thus comes to an end Bernadette’s ten month stay at our home. In that time, we have gotten to know her, which is another way of saying...we have learned to love her. Of course, we have also gotten to spend lots of time with Isaac since he was over here for dinner practically every night. I have never known a couple who deserved a beautiful wedding more than these two. Although there seemed to be one obstacle after another in their path for the past year, they overcame each one with mostly good humor and truckloads of grace and hard work. To all of the professional finger wagging scolds out there worried about the future because of the alleged deficiencies of the next generation...put a sock in it. I’m here to tell you that we are in excellent hands.

Although Pam and I will miss her terribly, I think that Lucy will have even a harder time. Our dog fell in love with Bern right from the start and, if it were even possible, fell even harder for Isaac. Every evening around 5:30 Lucy would park herself at the front door and peer through the window to wait for their cars to arrive. If for some reason they didn’t she would become agitated. It will take a while for her to stop this habit. She is very much a creature of habit, as well as a dog filled to the brim with love and devotion to her family, to whom Bern and Isaac are now members. Lucy’s wedding gift to the kids was especially heart felt since she “wrote” it herself. Isaac and Bern read it on their way to the mountains and immediately sent this reply:

“We opened Lucy’s card!! Very endearing. We can’t thank her enough for sharing with us and will think about her at dinner this week. However, we do have some questions about how Luce acquired these funds. Is she hanging around with nefarious folks? Is she selling something on the side? Is this just part of her weekly allowance? Regardless, we are honored.”

I offered this by way of explanation:

“This was her the other night trying to figure out if she could afford one bone or two?

As far as my vaccine goes, it was uneventful. The setup at the Richmond International Raceway was very well organized. The legions of volunteers that it took to run an operation like this was impressive. I thanked everyone who I encountered. So far my only side effects are a slightly sore shoulder, a slight fever in the middle of the night and some body aches this morning which by noon had gone away. I did learn something that I didn’t know about the vaccine that I would like to pass along to my readers:

Apparently, the COVID vaccine causes constipation. The nurse who gave my the jab told me that I would have to wait 3 whole weeks to ...get number 2.

Ready for the Next Adventure?

My quarantine is coming to an end. I have tested negative and have had zero symptoms, a very good thing. Most mornings have been fine. My routine is filled with the same things it normally is filled with only I’m in my library instead of my office...oh, and I haven’t shaved in a while. But the afternoons I start to get stir crazy. That’s when I start doing antsy things, going for walks, picking up sticks in the yard, going through the drive-thru at the bank for no good reason, checking Zillow to see if the lake house of our dreams has suddenly materialized since the last time I checked an hour ago.

Yesterday I spent some time chatting up my friend in Buena Vista. It’s been 18 months since her cancer diagnosis. She has completed her course of treatment and is now making the adjustment back to normal life. She has good days and bad days, just like the rest of us. But yesterday she said something in passing that stuck with me. She had remarked about a thirty minute nap she had just taken and said, “Now, I’m ready for the next adventure.”

What an amazing statement.

Here’s someone who has been buffeted by one catastrophe after another since September of 2019, the latest being one of her best friends receiving a cancer diagnosis, and yet she wakes up from a nap prepared for the next adventure. That, my friends, is simply a marvelous way to live. It’s so full of hope and optimism. The great songwriter, Steven Curtis Chapman, calls it...the glorious unknown. It takes a great deal of confidence to live this way, eagerly awaiting the day, confidence in the future. There are many ways to come by this confidence, but for people of faith it amounts to confidence in the one who holds the future. Still, there are days when its easy to fall back into pessimism and hopelessness...days like yesterday, when a young man walks into a grocery store and starts killing people. But even the most devastating news serves as a reminder of the words of Jesus more than 2000 years ago, “In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world.”

So, this morning, I am choosing to prepare for the next adventure, charging into the glorious unknown with confidence. 

Just to be on the safe side...no news for me today!

Another Mass Murder

A week or so ago now a deranged young man went on a killing spree at a massage parlor in Atlanta, Georgia. Although reports were that he might have been mentally ill, suffering from some sort of sex addiction, the narrative which arose out of his horrific acts was that it was a hate crime, specifically since the shooter was a white male and all of his victims were Asian women. The incident has sparked a nationwide conversation about the spike in anti-Asian violence that has accompanied the COVID-era landscape in the United States.

Now, today we have another young man on a killing spree. This time in Boulder, Colorado. The killer also is said to have been mentally ill, suffering from being bullied in high school and being highly anti-social. Using a Ruger pistol he had purchased just one week ago, this young man walked into a grocery store and began randomly killing people. As of this moment his victims include 5 women and 3 men, one of which was a police officer. It is not known whether this shooting will spark a similar nationwide conversation about hate crimes, since the shooter was a Syrian born Muslim and all eight of the dead were white. I am unfamiliar with the mechanics of hate crime law, but I imagine that the designation probably will not apply unless the victims are members of a minority population.

Regardless, both of these mass murders are horrific. No matter what the motivations might have been, once again in our country, a bunch of innocent people are dead at the hands of a mentally unbalanced man with a firearm.

A Surprising Pun Throw-down

My soon to be er...niece-in-law(?), Bernadette, did a brave yet odd thing yesterday. There I was, minding my own business, when out of the blue she sends me the following texts...

Bern: Did you know that the earthworm is one of millions of kinds of worms? And they’re not even native to the US. Once they arrived here they had already taken over the rest of the world. It was called...global worming.

Ok, up until this point, the poor girl had only been on the receiving end of the various puns and dad jokes I routinely send out. Now, she had inexplicably decided to go on offense. Her next text was informative as to her state of mind...

Bern: I’m really thrilled to be on this side!

At this point I still wasn’t sure what was happening. Then this:

Bern: Nematodes, a type of worm, make up four fifths of ALL animals in the world. When they fall in love, they’re called soil mates.

Wait...was this child challenging me to a pun-off??

Bern: I once saw 2 silkworms get in a race. It ended in a...tie.

Yes. Bernadette was challenging me. She was boldly walking into my family domain. Obviously, I had to do something and fast!

Me: ...of course you know this means war.

How did the earth room react to being cut in half? 

....he was beside himself.

What is an earthworm’s favorite food?

...wormicelli.

My dad had a earthworm farm once. He named all the worms Jason. When I asked him why he answered...

“because they’re all bait, man.”

Where do earthworm’s play baseball?

....Wiggly Field

Bern: Darn. That was good...

Gotta hand it to her though. The kid has guts. She’s going to fit into this family quite nicely. 

I just hope she doesn’t try to compete with me in the one area where I currently have no rival...the after dinner belch.

Poor Isaac...

Quarantine Day One in the Can

Day one of my quarantine is in the can. The first half of the day was productive. I answered several emails, talked to a couple clients on the telephone, even submitted a case. Just before lunch I even had time to write a limerick. A friend of mine, Len Tuck, challenged me with this: “I see a limerick using the word “quarantine” in your future.” I came up with this:

There once was a boomer who quarantined

A situation which was quite unforeseen

With so much spare time

And killing squirrels on his mind

Soon his poor wife had to intervene

Not great, but you try to rhyme something with quarantine twice!

The second half of the day was agonizingly slow. Lucy sat for long periods of time staring at me as if to say, What the heck are you doing home all day on a Friday. You don’t look sick to me. Don’t kid yourself. She knows the days of the week. Lucy picks up on every change in routine around here. If something is amiss she is all over it. I had many conversations with her like the following...

Lucy: (sitting next to me at my desk in the library, dubious expression on her adorable face)

Me: Would you knock it off? You are driving me crazy with that stare. I’m quarantined, Lucy. It’s no big deal. Go take a nap or something...

Lucy: (unmoved and unconvinced, she offers me her left paw as if she thinks I need to hold somebody’s hand)

Me: Alright...look. Here’s the deal. I have been exposed to someone who has COVID. That means I have to stay around here all day, everyday, for a while. Don’t worry, I didn’t like lose my job or anything. Your kibble will not be interrupted...

Lucy: (mid-sentence of my explanation, she walks over to the front door, then turns around and gives me one of her inside barks) Woooofph...which in Lucy speak means, well, if thats the case, why don’t you do something useful like take me for a walk around the culdesac?

After the second such walk, I started to feel imaginary ailments cropping up inside my body. Wait, is this a headache?  Am I getting warm or is it just from the walk and this jacket? Every fifteen minutes or so I would go to the refrigerator and eat something...just to make sure I still had working tastebuds.

When Pam got home, she saved the day by suggesting that we get Wong’s Tacos takeout. When we went on the website we noticed that for the first time in over a year they had blanco tacos on the menu!! My absolute favorite taco in the universe was now available for the first time post-COVID. We ordered a bagful along with Mexican street corn and Brussels sprouts. We ate like kings and I could taste every delectable morsel. All is well.

The Return of COVID

Just about the time you’re starting to imagine what life will be like after COVID, the virus returns with a vengeance. Yesterday morning I learned that someone at work had been exposed to someone with COVID. This person is someone who I work closely with and he was at that very moment getting a rapid test to determine if he was positive. Thirty minutes later we got the answer...yes. 

Pam and I have spent a lot of time in the last 24 hours on various governmental websites trying to sort out the impossibly complex rules and protocols of exactly what it is that I am to do. We have learned the meaning of the word close contact, and the even more problematic notion of qualifying exposure. Measuring my qualifying exposure with this close contact, we have determined that I must begin home quarantine immediately, wait five days to be tested, and then if that test is negative, I can exit quarantine after seven consecutive days have been completed in isolation as long as I have no symptoms. If I test positive the quarantine has to last either ten or fourteen days, depending on what phase the moon happens to be in on day six of the quarantine. A more nuanced reading of the rules might suggest that technically I have not even been exposed since I was never closer than six feet from the close contact for more than fifteen minutes at a time during my exposure. Of course, estimates of time and place are very subjective things and men are notoriously bad at estimating length...I’m told. So, here I am, beginning my isolation on the 19th of March, a day that promises high winds and snow flurries. Interestingly enough, my close contact got COVID from a guy who he played golf with over the weekend...someone who “doesn’t believe in the vaccine.” Beautiful. You know what I don’t believe?? I don’t believe that the impeccable comic timing of irony is a coincidence.

So, I will be confined to my home for a while, which means I will be slowly losing my mind, like Chinese water torture, wait...like going crazy one drop of water at a time over the next several days. Every body ache, sniffle, or dull throb in my head will send my imagination to places it shouldn’t go. I will be on pins and needles until I get a negative test next Monday morning. To celebrate my confinement, its time for an Irish  limerick:

There once was a man named McBride...

Who fell in an outhouse and died...

His heart broken brother

Soon fell in another

And now they are in turd side by side...

Wednesday Trifecta

JUDGE: You know, I must say I’m disappointed in you. I saw you in my courtroom two years ago for the same offense, stealing a pair of shoes.

DEFENDANT: I don’t know what to say, Your honor. They just don’t make shoes like they used to.

###

Luke and Obi-wan walked into a Chinese restaurant. ten minutes in to the meal, Luke was still having trouble with his chopsticks, dropping food all over the place. Obi-Wan finally snapped at him and said, “Use the forks, Luke...use the forks...”

###

Irish Jokes

A doctor asked an Irishman whether anyone in his family suffered from mental illness?

The Irishman answered,  "NO, We all seem to enjoy it.”

I bought an imitation diamond engagement ring to propose to my Irish girlfriend on St Patrick's day. I just hope she doesn't notice.

...the sham rock.

Why are the Irish so wealthy?

Their capital is always Dublin.

So, today is St. Patrick’s Day and I have to say...in the day and age in which we live how can this still be a thing? After all, today is a day where an entire nationality becomes the butt of jokes. We celebrate the day by wearing green and cracking jokes at their expense, despite the fact that at one time in our country’s history they were most definitely a persecuted minority (SEE...Irish Potato Famine, Irish-Catholic Immigration to America, reaction to same). And yet, Irish jokes are largely celebrated even in the most polite circles in a way that other ethnic jokes are not anymore. Google Irish Jokes and you will discover a treasure trove of humor playing up the their legendary fighting nature, rampant Irish alcoholism, and their fondness for being on welfare. Something tells me that St. Patrick’s Days are numbered.

Something to ponder today as you sip your green beer.

A Miracle

I am finally scheduled to receive my first COVID vaccine Saturday afternoon at the Speedway. The process was easy enough after I was able to find the email from the CDC which was conveniently stored in the spam folder of my work computer! Be that as it may, I am grateful to be officially in the queue. I think my vaccine is from Pfizer, but I’m not sure. Actually, I don’t care which one it is. I will take whatever is available. I just want this to be over and done with. The fact that we have multiple vaccines that are 70-90% effective against COVID in less than a year is nothing short of a miracle, and people who manage to find nits to pick about them are simply non-contributing zeros who would bitch and moan about winning the lottery if they had to drive down to the headquarters building to pick up the check! I mean seriously, can we just this once actually be grateful for something for a change? Oh, look...scientists, chemists, and other highly skilled humans spent the past 10 months working 20 hour days trying to find a needle in a haystack, a vaccine for an outrageously complex virus, and against all odds found not one but three! And in clinical trials these miracle vaccines were not 50-60% effective like the normal flu vaccines we get every year, but 70-90% effective. Then, somehow, these drug companies were able to speed up the manufacturing and incredibly complex distribution of these vaccines to a country of nearly 300 million people at a pace that nobody thought humanly possible mere months ago. And what do some of us do? Complain. It’s the new national pastime...

- No way I’m getting a vaccine. Bill Gates has slipped a microbe in it that will control my brain.

- Are you kidding? I’m not getting that Socialist shot. It’s a plot to control us by the government.

- My cousin knows a guy who’s brother once dated a girl who died after getting one of those vaccines.

- Wait, I’ve got to drive all the way down to the Arthur Ashe center and stand in line for thirty minutes? Hard pass!

- Why should I have to get a vaccine for a virus that doesn’t even exist??

- Everybody says that afterwards your arm gets really sore.

I swear, these days its hard to believe that our ancestors actually crossed the country in freaking covered wagons!! Now, if our stimulus checks don’t get deposited in our checking accounts this very second, we’re organizing bank boycotts. 

No. I count myself among those who still possess the ability to recognize the miraculous when I see it. Multiple vaccines being made available for a virus that has so far killed two and half million people qualifies as a miracle in my estimation. I am grateful for all the hard work done by everyone involved in making it possible for me to get in my climate controlled car, drive 20 minutes to a private business that has been transformed into a mass vaccination site manned by hundreds of people working around the clock to accommodate me, and to receive a vaccine that will render me virtually immune from this pandemic, the entire process having taken all of 45 minutes of my time.

A Miracle.

How Dad Are You??

I have heard it said that every day teaches a lesson. Here are some from yesterday:

When its your turn to volunteer at Hope Thrift but your back is still giving you problems, so you decide to go anyway with the condition that you “can’t lift anything,” ....you probably shouldn’t have gone at all. It is virtually impossible to be any help to anyone at a thrift store if you can’t lift anything. It was pathetic basically, me asking women to move this or haul that while customers gave me the side eye, wondering what the heck is wrong with this guy, His arm broke or something?? So, what did I do all afternoon? Well, I rearranged the book shelves, which were horribly picked through and disheveled. I broke down cardboard boxes to put in the recycling dumpster, and generally shuffled around asking customers if they needed help finding anything, hoping that they wouldn’t ask me to lift something. If it was a paying job I would have owed the store a couple hundred bucks!

Last night it occurred to me that I have never in my entire life had a bad dish of shrimp and grits. That is not the same thing as saying that all shrimp and grits are created equal, but rather that it seems virtually impossible to screw it up. In that way its akin to the fact that nobody can screw up a BLT. There are dishes that I gravitate to when at restaurants. My wife will tell you that when I don’t see anything I like on a menu I simply read the descriptions of each dish and pick the one that features the word sausage prominently. Another rule of thumb when eating at a restaurant for the first time is to order one of two dishes if they appear on the menu...jambalaya or shrimp and grits. That way I know I won’t be disappointed. Again, some places are better than others. But simply no such thing as bad shrimp and grits. Last night it was Tarrant’s West. Delicious.

The same cannot be said for Dad Jokes. Some days are very much better than others...

Do What Zog Do

Teacher Arrested At Pearson Airport 

A high school teacher was arrested today at Toronto's Pearson Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a compass, a slide-rule and a calculator.

At a press conference, Premier Kathleen Wynne said she believes the man is a member of the notorious extremist Al-Gebra movement. 

She did not identify the man, who has been charged by the OPP with carrying weapons of maths instruction. 

'Al-Gebra is a problem for us', the Premier said. 'They derive solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values.' They use secret code names like "X" and "Y" and refer to themselves as "unknowns"; but we have determined that they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philosopher Isosceles used to say, "There are three sides to every triangle." 

When asked to comment on the arrest, Prime Minister Trudeau said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of maths instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes." 

Fellow Liberal colleagues told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by any Prime Minister.

Have a great weekend everyone and remember...always do what Zog do.

Stuck In My Head

Today’s blog will be about one of the annoying particulars of the human mind...getting a song stuck in your head. How does it happen? WHY does it happen, and how does one make it stop?

First, on the subject of how it happens, most of you are thinking it happens when you hear the song on the radio. Most of the time, I would agree. But this particular song has been in my head for over 24 hours now and I did not hear it on the radio. I didn’t hear it referred to in conversation and I didn’t even read about it in a story. I was just plugging along at work and the song popped into my head out of the cold blue. To make matters infinitely worse, the song in question was maybe my all time least favorite hit song of all time, a song that I used to hate with an unhealthy passion when it was all the rage on AM radio back when I was 13 years old. Yes, I am speaking of that most annoying pop standard from 1971...Joy to the World by Three Dog Night.

Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine indeed! The first line tells you all you need to know about what kind of drugs they were on when they wrote this dreck.

I never understood a single word he said...Well, that makes 20 million of us.

Then there’s the insipid chorus...Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea...Perhaps under the influence of acid the plural of fish can be anything you want it to be.

If I were the King of the World, tell you what I’d do....I can tell you what I would do...ban this song from the airwaves forever.

In the last verse, the writer informs us that he is a high life flyer and a rainbow rider. Today, there are entire rehab facilities dedicated to this problem.

So, you can imagine how annoying it has been for me, ruminating over these lyrics for the past 24 hours, and I’m quite sure that dedicating an entire blogpost to it hasn’t done me any favors in this regard. I probably need someone to jump out from a closet and scream at me...or sneak up behind me and bang a gong or something.

...WAIT!!! That’s a great T-Rex song...you’re dirty sweet and you’re my girl...Now, That’s more like it!

The Glorious Return of Sunday Lunch Bunch

I begin this week celebrating the two week anniversary of Bad Back 2021. Sunday morning at 4:00am I woke up with delightful spasms that sent me to Patient First for a consult with an enormous doctor who had to be at least 6’5” and not a pound lighter than 280. He laid his substantial hands on my back and said, “Oh my, that’s gotta hurt.” Turns out that the big guy was very familiar with back pain, having endured plenty from an old football injury. As I tried to describe my issues, he finished all my sentences for me. It’s nice to be understood. I am now on muscle relaxers, some mild pain medication, and have employed anti-inflammatory patches, none of which work when you have just woken up in the morning. Took my first does of the day fifteen minutes ago and am now awaiting relief.

Despite yesterday morning’s unpleasantness, I made it to church yesterday in person for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a combination of travel, the holidays, post holiday caution, crappy weather and frankly...inertia that had kept us away. It was time. It’s been a year now since all this started. Warmth is in the forecast. Winter will soon be in the rear view mirror. No more sofa-church. Being in the building felt like homecoming. Afterwards, we even got the old Sunday Lunch Bunch band back together. We made a reservation at Anokha. Everyone was there except for Leigh Anne Fort, who was visiting her sister. The fact that Gordon agreed to come without her tells you something about how hungry we all are for human interaction and anything that feels like normalcy. It was Pam and me, my sister Paula and her husband Ron, their son Ryan, and Gordon. We took a picture and sent it to Leigh Anne...

Just like in the old days, I got the Tandoori platter with extra sauce on the side, and hogged all the naan. I am a slave to old habits.

Check out my nephew Ryan. I have watched this kid grow up from an annoying little crumb-snatcher, to an obnoxious middle schooler, through the know-it-all high school and college days. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I look up and he’s this incredibly handsome, smart, hard-working...uh...man. What the heck happened? Its becoming more difficult to refer to him by my preferred name...knucklehead. I have called him this for 20 years now. But as I sat across from him yesterday it occurred to me that he is anything but. That doesn’t mean that I am ready to retire “knucklehead”. I am his uncle which comes with certain rights and privileges, among them, the assignment of nicknames. But Ryan has navigated the first stages of his adult life during a pandemic with great skill. He has a good job, good friends, and one day is going to make some very lucky girl one heck of a fine husband. Respect. 

So, Ryan, if you’re reading this, have a good week....knucklehead!!

Time For Some Dreaming

Now that March has arrived, its officially time to start the mental preparations for...Maine. That’s right, in exactly 116 days we will be heading out for five glorious weeks on fabulous Quantabacook Lake in Searsmont, Me. This summer, thanks to COVID, it was far more difficult to find accommodations since so many cabin owners are staying put, making fewer spots available to outsiders, especially month-hogs like us. So we will be spending the first two weeks on the east bank of the lake in a place called Summer Dreams, a mere six cabins north of the greatest lake house in all of human history, Loon Landing. Then we will pack everything up and move a little further north, spending our next three weeks on the West Bank of the lake for the first time ever. The following two maps show the different locations and their relationship to each other...

Summer Dreams is a charming little place that sits right on the edge of the lake. It is the smaller of the two cabins, with only two bedrooms. 

Meal time seems guaranteed to be amazing...

Like I said, a little snug, but plenty big for our needs.

The second week we needed a bigger place for our kids and possible other guests who might pop in for a visit. Our first West Bank experience will be in the unimaginatively named—Quantabacook Lake House:

Despite the pedestrian name, this place has its own charms...

I can see myself drinking some coffee at this table in the morning...

Having this room filled with some of my favorite people in the world will do quite nicely...

Just in case you’re wondering, these images will be on my mind every spare moment I get for the next three months. One of these days, we will have a place of our own. When that day arrives I will be one happy man.

Dunnevant’s Theory of Good Government

I’m going to go out on a limb here by reducing the entire history of civilization down to what I believe are its core foundational elements. I know, I know...sounds like a real yawner, right? I will do my best to be both brief, and interesting. Here’s my theory:

The two key elements required for a flourishing society, the two things upon which successful, cooperative civilizations are built are—

- The Rule of Law

- Personal Freedom

There are others, sure, but without these two, all is lost. To the extent that governments honor these two foundation principles, they enjoy relative peace and prosperity. To the extent they discard them, chaos and death soon follow. How so?

1. When the rule of law becomes arbitrary, circumstantial, or ignored altogether, and if the “rules” ignore popular will, you're in for trouble. The making of law must always be done with what the Founders referred to as the consent of the governed. Also, when the rule of law is applied to some but not others, you’re in for even more trouble. The human instinct for justice, granted I believe by our creator, is a powerful force and cannot long be trampled upon.

2. When personal freedom morphs into complete and total personal autonomy, disaster will inevitably follow. No one in a functioning society can be granted absolute freedom. I don’t have the freedom to burst through my neighbor’s front door with an ax and murderous intent because he plays his music too loud. All members of society are called upon to make shared sacrifices for the common good. We don’t construct our own roads, function as judge, jury and executioner of criminals. When we confuse the dignity of the individual with the supremacy of the individual, we become an ungovernable, self-interested mob.

So, there you have it. Dunnevant’s Theory of Good Government. If you think about it, all of the political arguments we engage in can be traced back to these foundational rocks. Where we differ is how best to organize these sometimes conflicting principles. How to balance personal freedom with the pursuit of the common good? How to make laws that best reflect the people’s will and how to administer those laws justly? 

Simple, right? No. Human history is largely the story of human beings trying mightily to find the perfect balance...and mostly failing. Peace and prosperity are the outliers of the human story. When any country stumbles on a formula that works, we marvel. America so stumbled in 1776. It was far from perfect, and we have been hammering out the details ever since, sometimes successfully, other times accompanied by violence. But we persist because the alternative is unacceptable. May we never stop hammering.

A Proud Dad Moment

Good Thursday morning, kids. I have some exciting developments concerning my physical condition, or more precisely put, the uninterrupted deterioration of said condition which I can only conclude comes from the fact that in less than 30 days I will turn 63 years old. 

Eleven days ago, Monday the 22nd of February, I woke up with a painful back. Two days later I regaled you with all the sordid details in a blog post with the unimaginative title, Bad Back. Two days ago the back felt great and yesterday it was 100%. Matter of fact, yesterday afternoon I was able to go for a four mile walk after work. So, about an hour ago I was stepping out of the shower.( I have an 8 o’clock Zoom call with a client so I had to get in the shower ahead of Pam). Anyway, I stepped out of the shower and reached up to grab my towel off the hanger on the back of the bathroom door like I’ve done, oh—I don’t know—7,000 times since we’ve lived in this house, and BAMM, that sickening twinge, the brief flutter of nausea, and a muttered profanity. Yes, I have thrown it out...again. As the kids like to say...I can’t even...

On a brighter note, I would like to brag on my kids for a minute. Kaitlin and Patrick are both in their early 30’s and I often tell them that they are both better people than Pam and I were at their age. It’s not just a clever line, it happens to be the truth. They are both extremely bright, hard working, compassionate people who no matter what else I might screw up in life I can always point to and say, “See those two? Pam and I did that.” But we are a generation apart and as a result disagree on many things. When it comes to politics, Kaitlin is to my ideological left while Patrick is to her left, farther from his father’s libertarian-tinged conservatism. But the helpful part of this dynamic is that they are both whip-smart and can offer me less emotional, more logical explanations of their views than I can find on the shouting matches of cable news shows or the spittle flying, fact-less tirades on social media. When I come across what I know is a complicated issue reduced to a meme snippet, I know that I can rely on Patrick to give me a fuller explanation, So I will often text him to ask a question or tease him about the latest crazy left wing fad I’ve stumbled across. We trade snark for a few minutes. We do this because while my kids may have different political views, the apple of their trash talking fell directly at the roots of Dad’s tree! Anyway, eventually we start having a substantial  discussion of whatever issue it is. Such was the case yesterday with the Dr. Seuss business.

So, what are the results of these discussions, you might ask? Does anyone’s mind get changed? The answer is mostly...no. But here’s what does happen. I always learn something. I like to think they do too. Sometimes they will say something that I had never thought about. Sometimes these discussions cause me to question my assumptions and yes, sometimes I find them lacking. Of course sometimes even after a logical explanation of their views I come away thinking, ‘Sorry, that’s still nuts!!” But after one of these long text exchanges I always come away intensely proud of them. Somehow, against all odds, Pam and I have raised kids who care about their neighbors, who have a heart for the least of these, and can sling pithy sarcasm back at their dad as well as he dishes it out. You just can’t ask for more than that!

Semi-Profound Thoughts

*Here are some semi-profound thoughts for all of you to ponder on this Wednesday:

Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone.

Two can live as cheaply as one, for half as long.

The cost of living hasn’t affected its popularity.

One nice thing about egotists: they don’t talk about other people.

...Annnd one lame joke:

Protons have mass? I didn’t even know they were Catholic.

*Thanks, Bob Pentland

A Fifteen Minute Break

So, yesterday was a typical Monday at the office. I was busy getting the week’s appointments organized, putting together reports for a half dozen annual reviews I have scheduled. There was also a problem brewing with some paperwork from last week which I was trying to straighten out. In other words, I was as busy as a one-arm paper hanger, when a got this text from my daughter:

Kaitlin: Do you have any animal related dad jokes? I’m asking for Bailey.

(Bailey is Kaitlin’s best friend in Columbia and a real sweetheart.)

Me: Of course. What kind of animals?

Kaitlin: Any kind. If she’s asking for Milo, I know that dinosaurs are involved.

(Milo is Bailey’s super cool little boy)

Me: I’ll see what I can do. 

Kaitlin: It’s for a friend who teaches science. Anything appropriate for Middle School.

Me: Are you kidding? That’s my specialty!! Wait, “uh excuse me Mr. Client, but there’s a kid in Columbia who needs some animal dad jokes. Can I call you back later?”

Kaitlin: Ha! Bailey says, “Tell Mr. Client this is PRIORITY ONE!”

Sometimes its the little things that happen throughout the day that refresh your mental health. I’ve heard them referred to as grace notes or serendipity. Whatever you want to call it, these little interruptions have the power to recharge the soul. They can be literally the pause that refreshes. I immediately dropped everything and went to work. Within ten minutes I had sent her this:

The rest of the exchange went like this...

I suppose that the lesson here is, sometimes the most important thing isn’t the most important thing. Sometimes a fifteen text conversation with your adult child can be a golden moment. Sometimes, a sidebar that involves middle school humor is just the thing to steady you for a return into the serious business of your adult life.

Thanks, Bailey and Kaitlin. I needed it.

WELCOME!!

I would like to be the first to congratulate the Month of March for arriving on time as advertised. Those of us who have been held in the vice grip of February could not be happier at your appearance. Although it is raining and gross outside, we are all confident that you will bring much better times to Central Virginia and beyond.

You have many things going for you:

- During your time with us Spring will officially arrive.

- Warmer temperatures will spread over our neighborhoods.

- St. Patrick’s Day.

- Spring training baseball.

- The Masters

- International Women’s Day. Ok, I didn’t even know this was a thing, but if it’s sunny and 70, I’m in.

- Yard work...when the yard finally gets dry enough to actually walk in...and all the preparations required for outdoor living.

March, we have always seen you as a sign of hope. By the end of February, we are all at the end of our ropes, fed up with cold, snow and ice. We have grown weary of leafless trees, colorless skies and dead things. We have become sick and tired of the inside of our homes. The prospect of another snow storm hovers over us like the angel of death. Even the possibility of a snow day no longer brings joy, only aggravation. Our spirits lag every time we see our deck furniture without their cushions. They look naked and afraid, like frail, emaciated prisoners of war, sitting out there alone and worthless. But now you have arrived, the army of liberation.

Yes, we are aware that on relatively rare occasions, snowstorms come during your reign. When they do, they are particularly fierce and devastating to our mental health, coming at a time which seems to all of us completely unfair and unjust. We beseech you to do all in your power to prevent such a catastrophe this year.

Once again, we thank you for your arrival and wish you all the best over these next 31 days. 

Warmly,

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