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.