NOTHING BUT FEVER AND GHOSTS IN THE WATER

"This failure of imagination has cost us, this inability to conceive of a situation where testing might fail. This inability to look at what was going on in China and think we might be next. This inability to to look past the rhetoric of exceptionalism and to imagine a case when the so-called greatest country in the world would prove to be one of the greatest cautionary tales in the world."

— Ed Yong, on the Longform Podcast

It’s Friday night. Time to get into yoga brain for teacher training. Looking back on the week it is not easy to see that much was accomplished or forward progress made. I had some good telephone calls and I need some long ones with other friends I have neglected. The new television and cable box are up and running. Janet was steered to some better tv and even now, when she could be indulging in one of those awful programs, she is watching the final season of Grace and Frankie.  

Meals were cooked. Miniscule amounts of yoga was practiced. Some reading was done. I finished two audio books, both of which I recommend to the stalwart among you, Blowout:
Corrupted Democracy, Rogue State Russia, and the Richest, Most Destructive Industry on Earth, and The War Before the War: Fugitive Slaves and the Struggle for America’s Soul From the Revolution to the Civil War. So there is some sort of accomplishment.

I might as well admit to being blue, notwithstanding having had delicious DiFara pizza from Brooklyn delivered to me by indulgent friends. Notwithstanding the outstanding pleasure of less noise, clearer air, and falling asleep to Bach and rainfall. Notwithstanding Janet being in good health, good spirits, and less needy. Notwithstanding Michael and Alicia buying Janet a new tv with better resolution so that she can see better. Notwithstanding good cuddling with Idris. Notwithstanding a funny and fun dream where I was stoned and laughing with Manuel and RV. Maybe the fear and dismay rise to the top and harden disgustingly, like homemade chicken broth.

There were times this week when the veil was very thin. The veil between middle age and old age. The veil between health and sickness, security and uncertainty.  I felt I could be rent like worn out linen. It was scary and sad in the roller coaster drop on The Cyclone way. All the tenuousness.

"Tenuous comes from the Latin word tenuis, for thin, and is related to our word tender. Something can be physically tenuous, like a spiderweb or ice on a pond."

Yep.

After the pandemic, how will we ever be simple again?

How Will I Ever Be Simple Again

Oh, she danced in the street with the guns all around her
All torn like a rag doll, barefoot in the rain
And she sang like a child, toora-day toora-daddy
Oh, how will I ever be simple again

She sat by the banks of the dirty gray river
And tried for a fish with a worm on a pin
There was nothing but fever and ghosts in the water
Oh, how will I ever be simple again

War was my love and my friend and companion
And what did I care for the pretty and plain
But her smile was so clear and my heart was so troubled
Oh, how will I ever be simple again

In her poor burned-out house I sat at her table
The smell of her hair was like cornfields in May
And I wanted to weep and my eyes ached from trying
Oh, how will I ever be simple again

So graceful she moved through the dust and the ruin
And happy she was in her dances and games
Oh, teach me to see with your innocent eyes, love
Oh, how will I ever be simple again
Oh, how will I ever be simple again

Richard Thompson

I need to go study some anatomy. I will leave you with more RT as this one surely fits the moment.

TAKE CARE THE ROAD YOU CHOOSE

If I ever get out of these shoes
 And I shrug off a skin or two
 I'll come looking in the wasted places
 Beat up, last ditch rendezvous

If it had been some other place
Some other time to find me
If I had been in my right mind
Not looking for ghosts behind me

Then I'd hold you with my fingers burning
Kiss your little tears of yearning
But sometimes there's no turning
Take Care The Road You Choose

If I ever get out of my mind
Guillotine myself to stop me dreaming
And let my heart go where it will
Without those other voices screaming

Some take the high, some take the low
Some take the straight and narrow
Some still standing at the crossroads
Some fly like an arrow

With my radar I'll find you, darling
No regrets to blind you, darling
And never look behind
Take Care The Road You Choose

If I ever get out of these shoes
And I shrug off a skin or two
I'll come looking in the wasted places
Beat-up, last ditch rendezvous

If it had been some other place
Some other time to find me
If I had been in my right mind
Not looking for ghosts behind me

Then I'd hold you with my fingers burning
Kiss your little tears of yearning
But sometimes there's no turning
Take Care The Road You Choose

If I ever get out of my mind
Guillotine myself to stop me dreaming
And let my heart go where it will
Without those other voices screaming

Some take the high, some take the low
Some take the straight and narrow
Some still standing at the crossroads
Some fly like an arrow

With my radar I'll find you, darling
No regrets to blind you, darling
And never look behind
Take Care The Road You Choose