So like most of the world, I got laid off from a couple of part-time gigs in the last few weeks. Finally! I made the headlines, and not for any of the reasons my parents had predicted. (Point goes to L Ron!)
YOU know how it is. Everything is just a story in the paper; tch tch tch and turn the page… until it affects you. Then that random news item becomes mighty real, mighty tactile, mighty fast. George Carlin nailed the phenomenon perfectly. Cleaned up for a family publication, he said, “You ever notice how other peoples’ stuff is [poop], but your [poop] is stuff?”
That’s what bad news is like. And the current tsunami of ever-more discouraging developments isn’t just other peoples’ sad stories any more… it’s directly impacting our stuff. Traditionally, that’s when Americans draw the line. When we all feel endangered, when we all feel attacked. Pearl Harbor. 9/11. When the “Roseanne” reboot got cancelled.
Can we puh-lease add global pandemic to the list? We’re in objective trouble when the first thing we hear upon waking up in the morning is that big cities in America are stacking coronavirus victims like cordwood in hospital halls, waiting…
