www.DougHugs.com  Doug Rhodes

Where does the time go?

Two weeks ago – if you asked me – I would have replied, “Not a chance.” to the question, “Do you believe there would come a time when writing every day, or every other day, on your blog would be difficult?”

This is a (minor) tragedy of this isolation. It is also my timely obituary of same. The bell has rung. Time to put the ‘ole boy down. Just about out of patience with an eely, slithery, invisible, politically-leeched, internationally famous infection known as coronavirus, the ‘rona, “Covid-19”, or whatever moniker you choose to slap on it.

It’s a constant of insolent data through mindless Coronavirus task force briefings, internet sloth and blather, hours of staring down into the same group of dirty dishes, opening cans of reasonably low sodium soup, and shuffling paperwork. Masking while asking, distancing and whincing, peering at my peers through little social media screens … these are the supposed normals to be accepted. They are also among little beat-downs in the heavy bag tied around my waste of time. Thus, almost two weeks of empty screens … no words to share.

I don’t feel alone, however. Most of us are really off any regular schedule. It’s 3:50 a.m. and not too uncommon for me to be up, but over on the Facebook side of my life, life is vibrant, colorful and very active. The friendly zoo cages of likes and opinions are happily unlocked which has been the case since the lockdowns started. It also reflects a time when crumb-critters-kiddos are in bed, dogs, cats and gerbils are nose-nestled in their torsos, and adults aren’t quite awake enough to spaddle each other (I’ll let you define that term). So, social media it is.

The problem before me has been experiences. I’m limited in my “Hey, you’s!”, and “Waz’ ups?”. Five to ten seems to be the magic number of humans the universe is allowing me to wallow with on a daily basis. Now, either I am a not worthy a higher number as determined by a supreme people-power-purveyor, or my lack of a regular shower schedule precedes me. I need interaction to create¬†words. Imagination is wonderful to a degree, but when the heat is turned up from boredom and lack of human contact, interest burns as quickly as people run when you cough these days.

No disrespect to what we’re trying to do here. I get all of it. My blog is so insignificant to the bigger universe of ideas, models, testings, procedures, lives, businesses, countries, states, politics, finances, … all of the nouns we can assign to the times in which we live. This has been – and will continue to be – a big deal throughout 2020.

I’m not assigning blame to anyone for my current state of malaise. Ennui, unfortunately, is an intended consequence of isolation-idleness and I’m, quite simply, not happy about it. For example, “blah” and “whatever” should not be used in more than fourteen sentences daily …. but I do, and this is not good. I’ve organized throws and blankets by colors and size, rearranged my hoards of piano music eighty-eight times, flicked through Netflix until my thumb was numb, played enough hands of free internet poker to poke my eyes out, and have dishpan-man hands. All if this to, apparently, avoid writing on this blog – without knowing it.

Now, I don’t want to sell myself short here. In the midst of all, I have been keeping up to date with my dad’s grocery order and calling him every day. He has the same dozen-or-so items keeping him alive and I’m grateful for his dietary consistency. This makes my masked grocery trips for him quick and easy. His attention to necessary isolation has been a wonderful opportunity for us to connect as father and son.

As well, I have connected with my pianistic past by recording daily pieces … uploading them to Facebook for perusal. So, I can’t say all has been a complete waste bin of idleness. I have enjoyed some of the moments spent.

It’s now 4:50 .. Where does the time go? Well, today will be another day pretty much like the past forty-five. I’ll eat a Clif-bar, drink some hot tea, and scurry atop my fifty-ish feet, wearing out the path in the carpet I’ve worn down through many trips to the sad refrigerator.

All is not lost, however. May 1st I am opening up my business. After almost six months – four normal for winter break and two from mandatory shutdown – the community will once again have Doug’s Dawgs at their service for lunch. I am so opening up my world.

Experiences I need in a way only my idleness and eye-rolling can understand. There will be masking and social distancing because, because, be..cau..se….. those are the normals now. For how long? Who really knows. All I know is … there’s not a chance of ever saying, “never” when asked about anything because we don’t know what’s in our future. Ever. Just ask me. Maybe two weeks from now I’ll write about it? Hopefully sooner if I don’t have anything else to do.