I don’t write with much consistency these days. I thought that the pandemic and working from home would see an increase in posts and a whole series unfold on the different tech dilemmas that I find myself in.
But the truth is my heart just hasn’t been in it.
When I watch the news or read the headlines trying to drum up a creative spark that might lead to a post, I find that writing anything political or satirical would be mundane compared to reality.
Take the recent Trump v. Biden debate for example. The debate was an absolute brawl put on by two men who desperately want to be the President of the United States (or acting President in the case of Biden). Both sides came out swinging, and caught the usually nonplused moderator Chris Wallace completely off guard. One candidate called the other a clown. The other retorted back by calling him stupid, and our moderator was left in the unenviable role of a Presidential Debate Schoolmarm who had clearly lost her class.
If there’s one thing we’ve managed to do over the past year it’s figure out ways to clobber each other. I say this metaphorically with respect to politics, but given the riots-cum-peaceful protests, I have to say this literally as well. We are a Nation so divided that even our collective response to the pandemic has been politicized. Mask wears vs. the anti-mask wearers, to say nothing of the pending Supreme Court nomination, the looming election, the economic downturn that has beset so many, and those we’ve lost to this wretched virus.
It’s strange but at a time when thoughts are plentiful, I’ve found it plenty difficult to focus on the tasks at hand. Sharing anything remotely thoughtful with the blogosphere has been low on the priority list – somewhere on the level of responding to emails, unfortunately. (Is the blogosphere even a thing anymore?)
A personal failure of words strikes me as especially odd given that we are living in a truly historic time. And when one lives through history it would seem that there’s something significant to talk about. To wit, I think the last ‘certifiable’ pandemic was the Spanish Flu in the 1920s. However, it seems there’s some debate about this point as some quarters only call it a mere epidemic rather than a pandemic. Roaring twenties, indeed. Given that very few if any people are alive who survived the pandemic of the 1920s, it’s fair to say that we are living through a historic moment. And yet words have been few and far between.
I think the difficulty stems from the fact that living through a pandemic is rather boring.
Movie theaters are closed. Restaurants and bars have lost their appeal. Amusement parks are no longer amusing. Halloween has been canceled. Travel abroad is severely restricted. Travel at home is undesirable. And, to state an obvious (albeit unpopular) opinion, wearing a mask is tedious. Rather than breathe my own breath, like billions of people around the world, I’ve simply opted to stay home.
In truth, it hasn’t been all bad for me. Home in my case, is back in Oklahoma. At present, I’m writing from the comfy environs of my childhood room, sleeping on an extra-long twin bed with a small writing desk allocated for me to do my work. It’s a humbling thing to be nearly 40 (gasp) and living at home with my parents.
The saving grace of my situation is that it’s not for unfortunate circumstances that I am here. My apartment in Tucson is happily unoccupied with all of my belongings just as I left them in late May. I remain gainfully employed at the University of Arizona. And my health is as good as it ever has been – though I certainly need to lose a few COVID pounds at some point. My excuse is that the gyms are closed. That I would not have gone to one anyway is a moot point.
So, despite it all, those I care about are safe and healthy. I have a job. My needs are met. Many have it far worse. I’m a fortunate person though I don’t deserve it. I just hope this thing turns around for us all very soon.