If you had told me that I would ever try to cut my own hair, I’d have told you you were nuts. Not only would my vanity prevent me from doing so, I feared my klutziness would lead me to wind up with quilt-like scalp full of bald patches or even worse, I’d end up slitting my own throat. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Enter 2020 and the coronavirus. And with every data point indicating we’ve a LONG way…
The other day I was driving home from nearby Seabrook, New Hampshire. I’d gone there to take advantage of the Granite State’s much lower prices on beer and wine — necessities during these crazy times of global pandemic — and on the drive home along U.S. Route 1, I found myself longing for my parents’ thoughts. Returning from Seabrook, as I slalomed around Route 1’s car-eating potholes and beneath overpasses with rusty rebar visible through holes in the concrete, I…
It’s a gorgeously clear, moonless night. The stars are so clear and sharp they look touchable. And also completely implacable and uncaring about some little creature that calls itself “homo sapiens” (despite not being very “sapiens” in reality). The universe cares not a whit about us, and it’s entirely possible that Covid-19 is just the planet’s (or the universe’s) way of ridding itself of a cancer that can’t even think of its own self-preservation and instead keeps plowing straight ahead…