It was a bunch of years ago when the Triumvirate was born.

I'm not referring to the Roman triads of government that were predominantly male in that era.

Nope, I'm talking about three women who decided to grab a title and run with it until it became ours.

Here's the picture.

Sometime in the future, I'll update this and add the story.

But for the moment...here's the photo.

Amen, and pass the mustard. 

Goodbye Cuba, Hello America the Beautiful

A whole bunch of years ago today my family boarded an airplane from Cuba bound for Miami.

We were supposedly on vacation - a typical two weeks to be enjoyed as a welcome break. My parents packed just enough clothing and toys to keep my little brother and me busy during the hiatus. I remember looking out the window and seeing the island where I lived disappearing from our viewpoint. 

And I remember both of my parents staring at the view with wet eyes and in my mother's case, tears down her cheeks.

For they were not going on vacation -- they were fleeing the socialist regime of a dictator whose name I refuse to write but figure anyone can guess. They had not told anyone in the family for fear of having someone thwart their plans. 

My parents disagreed with the man's policies, and his cruel methods. So they decided to escape while they could - hopefully to return when things "normalized."

But that never happened. My father (who had a degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Havana and was bilingual) obtained a job in Rhode Island. The rest of us learned English, went to school and worst of all had to wear itchy woolen clothing that was unfamiliar. 

Today, while I reminisce about that lost life on a tropical island, I can't help but wonder what would happen should a dictatorship establish itself in the United States. My father and uncles used to chat about how they would fight tooth and nail for the USA, simply because they knew there was no place else they could go. Certainly not back to Cuba.

I worry about the USA a lot these days, most notably the past few weeks. I won't go into the gory details because there are so many points of view a lot of things get lost in the translation. All I know is that some type of change is happening here and I'm not entirely sure it's working.

What I am sure of is this -- there is nowhere else on earth like the USA. The country took us in and gave us a place to work and to live and to be free. It's a place worth fighting for, at least it is to me and the rest of my family - all of whom relocated to the USA and became citizens as soon as we were able.

Even though I have an emotional attachment to the land of my birth, it is my adopted home which I love best of all. Today I just want to say thank you to the USA, to the people who lived here before we got here, to Americans who helped us in those early years.

And yes, America, you are the beautiful and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

 

And Now - The Hamster Launcher

    My father hated squirrels but loved hamsters. 

    He had an elaborate setup to keep squirrels from eating bird food from the various feeders in the backyard. The hamsters, however, were something else. He loved them. Dad adored how they stuffed their pouches full of whatever goodies he gave them. He kept a couple of the fuzzy guys in his workshop, where they happily went around their wheels as Dad worked. 

        Eventually, however, the rest of us in the house became weary of the endless squeaking of the wheels. No matter what time of day or night, it was “squeak squeak squeak squeak.” 

           We tried everything at the onset, including putting heavy towels on the cages so that they would sleep and not run themselves ragged. But no. 

    The little guys kept at it until my mother finally cracked and put down an ultimatum. 

    “It’s the hamsters or your wife and kids. Pick. We’re done.” My brother and I nodded in unison.

    Desperate to work something out, that night Dad, an electromechanical engineer with a degree from the University of Havana, hit upon a potential solution. He returned from the hardware store with a couple of small ball bearings. After a few hours, he successfully got them attached to the hamster wheels. 

    He then took one of the hamsters and put it into the cage and on the wheel. Dad was alone in the shop at the time.

And then – “Eureka!” he yelled. “Eureka! Come down here and see this!”

                

    The three of us ran downstairs, where Dad was staring intently at the hamster cage. He put one on the wheel and within seconds, the hamster had it going fast, fast, fast.

    Then the poor creature shot out of its cage and into my father's hands.

    

    Dad had accidentally invented the Hamster Launcher.

    

    “Hamster power!” he kept yelling. “Look, flying hamsters!”

                

    Sure enough, each time he placed one of them in the wheel (now with his hands protectively over the open door) the critter picked up so much speed it was launched out of the cage.

                

    Each and every time Dad would yell "Eureka!"  We were sure he envisioned millions of hamsters whirling in their cages and producing a new method for powering entire countries.

    We only tried the experiment several times since the pets were now freaked out and of course, none of us wanted them injured. We could not conceptualize how anything positive could come out of a homemade gadget that did nothing except launch unwitting hamsters through the air.

    Dad sighed. 

    

    My mother had drawn a line in the sand. He could keep the current batch of hamsters but there would be no more at our house. The squeaking was intolerable. Let’s not even talk about how we all figured the PETA people would be at our doorstep if they had any inkling of a house in which hamsters were being launched in the basement at Warp 9.9 speeds.

    The three of us went back up the steps, listening to Dad take the ball bearings off the wheel, all dreams of a new way of creating energy dashed. 

    

    Dad rehomed the furry fellows to someone who had a bigger house where the squeaks would not take over the entire place. 

    PETA never found out, and my father acquiesced to my mother for the sake of his marriage and our sleep. All of us were able to dream peacefully now that there were no more flying hamsters in our house.

    There was an incident involving a flying Thanksgiving turkey but that story is for another day.

    Amen, and pass the mustard.

               

RHODY ROTS: Now That I got Your Attention

Okay, I'm back.

I'm not sure what that means since on many occasions I have "taken off" from social media mentally out of sheer boredom.  

I spent two years living in the City of Miami -- NOT Miami Beach only tourists and silly college students want to spend any time there. I certainly did not.

That said I'm finding myself at loose ends here in Rhode Island again -- can't tell you how slow the place seems, crawling along at its usual lumbering pace. I see it every day. 

We've been struggling with a EPIC bridge repair issue right in Providence - meaning that folks are enduring major traffic jams because SOMEBODY didn't see a bridge falling apart before their eyes. That someone failed to spot the mess is frightening.

After returning I note people who have never left Rhode Island praising its virtues - shocked that those same folks don't see what I see -- the lack of anything new to see. That's because they don't look -- including at bridges that are falling down around them.

I had a blog in Miami which I called "Miami Moans." Clearly, if I'm living in the biggest little state of confusion I can't use that title anymore. And honestly "Rhody Rots" isn't exactly cool.

So I'm getting deep into the Wayback Machine and heading to the first blog I scribbled -- Anachronous Anaesthesia.

What the hell I'm going to write about now is going to be affected a LOT by living in a big city like Miami - it changed me. Completely. I realized that I truly love cities -- but REAL ones, not tiny ones like Providence or Boston (which people in New England "think" is a city because they've never been elsewhere. Or to a real city, for that matter.) 

The photo attached IS Brickell, part of the City of Miami. It took seconds for me to get accustomed to that view -- and it's forever locked in my heart. Why am I back in Rhode Island?

Good question, wish I had a good answer. Maybe it's in the deep recesses of my cranium. Hope I can get it out. Hope I don't fall down from one of the various bridges that are in dire need of repair. 

Amen, and pass the mustard.

YOU'VE COME A LONG WAY, BABY --- NOT

 I can't imagine that at this stage of life I am writing this -- and even thinking about it.

For those who have been living under a rock, this afternoon the Supreme Court dealt women of all ages an incredible blow by repealing Roe v Wade.

I'm not going into the pros and cons here -- there is just way too much on both sides and I'm not going there.

Where I am going is that we have known for some time -- thanks to an infamous leak in which we learned that SCOTUS was planning this move - and nothing happened.

I grew up reading about women who protested against war (Vietnam), rallied for the ERA (equal rights amendment), and grew up reading the works of Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, Germaine Greer, and countless others.  While I was too young to physically participate in rallies and marches, I was there in spirit with the courageous women who took to the streets to fight for rights I would eventually enjoy.

And yes, soon as the SCOTUS decision was on the Friday news dump, women organized rallies all over the country. Some are happening even as I write.  

What I don't get is -- why didn't they happen before? Is it because some of the younger women, who never had to fight for some of these issues, can't get it into their heads that these rights were only recently achieved and at great cost? 

There have been social media posts aplenty. That's the solace for many of the tech crowd -- post something on a page and well, you have DONE something. Curiously, after looking at some of the sites I frequent, I'm agog that the issue is mentioned but about as much as posts of cats and whatever drink someone had to celebrate TGIF.

I found myself posting on social media the singular message I'm posting here -- VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. Find a political candidate whose views you support, work on their campaign and get those arses who don't give a crap about women out once and for all.

Eons ago there was a ridiculous cigarette commercial that featured a ditty that sang to women "you've come a long way, baby!" Yeah, baby, you've come a long way and now cigarette companies are marketing a product just so you can get cancer of your very own.

This afternoon it dawned on me that we are hearing that song again. You've come a long way, baby.

Not. Not. Not.

Vote, for crying out loud, join a campaign, and work it like your life depends on it, my fellow women friends.

Because it does, it does, it does.

Amen, and pass the mustard.

Here Comes the Tick Bus

If ticks tick you off, you may not want to read the following.

First, let me introduce you to The Tick Bus. 

More on him later.

Pests.org  notes that most states will likely endure warmer, wetter conditions this year -- just the stuff of which ticks are made.

Wear long sleeves and long pants for tick season is upon us.

While there is no proof of this theory, some people I know believe that cats and dogs represent a valid means of transportation for assorted insects, most notably ticks.

Yes, I've said it before -- ticks tick me off.

Getting back to The Tick Bus, a couple of nights ago he escaped the house and ran through the grass as if it were the African Savannah. The Tick Bus spent a few hours enjoying a walk on the wild side before his humans managed to coerce him inside.

But by then it was too late -- he had several passengers and had to be corralled.  No sense allowing him to mosey on his route giving a tick or two the opportunity to get off on the next stop.

We only found two of the blasted critters on The Tick Bus. And we resolved to renew the supply of anti-tick treatment in the house.

It was hours before the heebie-jeebies we got from contact with a tick left us. I was scratching myself and checked every square inch for another of those godawful critters.

The Tick Bus, however, was fast asleep on the couch none the worse for wear.

Amen, and pass the insect repellent.

    
 

WHOA, Nellie Bly! And Happy Birthday to both of us...

She was born Elizabeth Jane Cochran in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on May 5th. For a good chunk of her life, Elizabeth was a writer/journalist, under the pen name Nellie Bly. 

In those days there were many women writers, but most of them "hid" their real personas under a false name.

Nellie and I have two things in common - our birthdays, our passion for writing, and of course journalism.

So it should be no surprise that on the eve of our birthdays, I'm writing about someone that I would definitely have hung around with a lot. 

After a stint at the Pittsburgh Dispatch, Nellie fled to New York, where editors would not hire her because she was a woman. Now that's not news. But Nellie had what in those days people would have called gumption. 

Broke and desperate, she somehow wrangled her way into the New York World offices and talked her way into a job. The assignment - pretend to be insane and get herself into the Women's Lunatic Asylum on what is now called Roosevelt Island. Reports of brutality and neglect were rampant, and she was to shine a light on the stories. 

Nellie Bly, Age 26

After ten days she had her expose, and the New York World got her released from the asylum and published her story: Ten Days in a Mad-House. 

But that wasn't enough. She talked her editor into letting her turn Jules Vernes' fictional tale Around the World in Eighty Days into a reality.

Nellie traveled around the world in 72 days - carrying nothing but a small bag of clothing, toiletries, and some cash. She made the trip on steamships, railroads, and a leg on the White Star Line's HMS Oceanic.

Nellie, 31, married a 73-year-old millionaire named Robert Seaman. She got into manufacturing, invented a few things, and ultimately lost a bunch when her company went bankrupt. But it didn't take long before she dusted herself off and went back to her first love, reporting. She covered war and got arrested when mistaken for a British spy.

Bly also covered the suffragist movement. In one of her stories for the New York Evening Journal, she correctly predicted that women would get the vote by 1920. 

She was only 57 when she died, but man, she had lived. She's in the National Women's Hall of Fame and the New York Press Club hands out a yearly Nellie Bly Cub Reporter Award. 

One of her best quotes - "I was too impatient to work at the usual duties assigned women on newspapers."

Damn right, Nellie, you were damn right. 

COVID 19: WHERE IS YOUR HEART, MIAMI?

When the Covid 19 virus first arrived in the City of Miami -- there were many ways the citizenry made their feelings known abut the situation. Most notably, a groundswell of support for all the persons who worked in the first line of defense providing us with needed services at great personal cost.

One of the things which popped up in the downtown Miami skyline were several heart images on the sides of skyscrapers thanks to creative lighting on windows.

In the midst of terror, those symbols were a sign of hope, a sign of humanity, a sign of one thing we all have in common -- a beating heart.

Johnson & Wales Marriott Downtown Miami FL

Residents would stand on the balconies in the city at 8:00PM each evening, clapping their hands, banging pots together and in the case of one very determined singer, attempting "DEO" in the best Harry Belafonte voice he could muster.

The hearts added to the sensation, gave us all something on which to meditate, to think about love.

But for the last few nights, that heart is gone. 

Not figuratively but literally. Gone. Out. 

At first I thought it might be something going on with the construction nearby, so I gave it no thought the first night.

Tonight, however, several days have passed and I'm thinking so has the heart.

Johnson & Wales Marriott Downtown Miami FL

In other words, Miami has lost its heart, and the evidence is on the side of the darkened building for all to see...or actually not see.

Your heart is gone, Miami, gone. Someone decided to put out your lights, literally, apparently not realizing how many of us saw that heart as a beacon of hope. It was a  constant in a series of weeks where every day some new horror posed itself to us.

It was a reminder of life, of our own hearts, a bit of light in a very, very dark chapter of the city and our lives.

Who took out Miami's heart?

And most importantly, who will put it back?



Amen, and pass the hand sanitizer. 

COVID IS IN THE BUILDING

Okay, I suppose it was bound to happen.

Just sucks that it happened here.

We received an email from the building management that someone who lives here has a case of...roll them drums.... Covid 19.

The email is somewhat vague to protect the resident -- it's not clear whether he/she is alone in the space or there are others involved. I understand why this is done -- the more to protect someone from the inevitable vicissitudes of humanity. 

You know, someone doing something that's not very nice and ends up in a stupid post on some social media site.

I have to admit here that I am weirded out by the above statement in the purple box. We had another email some time ago about a patient in another building close by, but that seemed very far away.

This is close to home. This is my home, where I've spent week upon week doing all I could to prevent  Covid 19 -- aka "the scourge of 2020" from invading my space. It sucks.

But then it sucks for the person who has it, of course. We can only hope it's not a bad case and it ends well. Admittedly now everyone here will be even more on guard, let's assume. 

So allow me to repeat my mantra -- WEAR THE DAMN MASKS, PEOPLE, WEAR THE DAMN MASKS.

Amen, and pass the hand sanitizer. 

COVID 19: We Are "All Not in This Together"

One of the most inane messages that is being thrown about during this Covid 19 Era is how "we are all in this together." 

The idea that "they" are trying to shove down our collective throats is that somehow no matter who or what or where any of us are, we are sharing this common experience in a way that is very egalitarian. No, no. no. 

Lately our televisions are showing images of celebrities holing up in their respective homes, proving very visually that we are not in this all together.  The idea is supposed to be that these privileged and moneyed folks are putting up with the same difficulties that those of us who live in much smaller residences endure. 

Yeah, right. 

Take the Today show's Al Roker who presumably is broadcasting from home. So far I've seen a huge kitchen, an outdoor fireplace bigger than my bathroom and a sweet collection of vinyl in what I think is his living room. This shot of Al in his kitchen is notable for the huge stove and the collection of Le Creuset on the shelves.

Meanwhile singer Kelly Clarkson is broadcasting her daily show from her ranch in Montana, festooned with log walls, some horse runs and a couple of fire pits.  

The rest of us mere mortals are doing our level best to keep our cool in spaces that are nowhere like those residences. Those of us lucky enough, I meant to say, to have a home. Let's not talk about people who are enduring the Covid 19 era on the street of any city worldwide.

My point is this - I don't  begrudge any of these folks their nicely appointed digs. Hey, they worked hard for it and more power to them. 

But when I hear them tell me that we are in this together -- that makes me cringe. Al, Kelly, and all the rest of you - we are NOT all in this together. You are hanging out in spaces with every amenity you can imagine - and if you don't like that house, you have others to visit when boredom strikes. 

We are not all in this together, people. It's about time we stand up for ourselves and ask, no, DEMAND that the powers that be stop using that ridiculous statement when patently it's an absolute load of crap, and nothing will convince me otherwise. 

Amen, and pass the hand sanitizer. 

COVID 19 ERA: PUT THE MASK ON, PART 2

I can't believe I'm scribbling again on this same, lame topic.

The facial masks are now an ubiquitous symbol of the Covid 19 Era.  A couple of months ago I was calling it "the pandemic" like everyone else, but I've changed my tune on that. Humor me. 


This afternoon a members of the Miami-dade County League of Cities Mayor's Coalition (aka a boatload of South Florida mayors) held a press conference on Covid 19. Usually these things tend to be about the same sort of topics, not just in Miami but across the country: how many have died, how many are infected. 

Holding court today was City of Miami Mayor Francis Suarez, a guy who has a lot of my admiration because he tested positive for Covid 19 and posted video updates daily. As a former Communications Director for a Rhode Island politico, a guy I couldn't get to do anything which required personality, I was gobsmacked that Mayor Suarez did what he did. Not bad for a Republican. 

So when he said today that from now on anyone walking outside in Miami must wear a mask of some kind, I was rooting for him and any of the other mayors standing near the podium.

Wearing a mask has become a cause celebre for the intellectually challenged. Some monkeys think it's a violation of their civil rights, and fight like hell not to put the things on. One Floridian got into a wrestling match at Walmart (duh) because an employee told him it was mandatory to wear one in the store. The videos are all over the place and someday the Maskless Wonder may regret having one of his less than finer moments recorded for all time.

I have been wearing a mask from the get-go because I have a phobia about being close to an infected human who will sneeze and blow his/her snot all over my face. I recognize the mask may not provide a ton of protection, but the more we get into this Covid Era the more it seems that they might.

So as I said in an earlier post, wear the masks, people, wear the masks. There are a bunch of styles and colors to choose from and at least you can make the Covid Era part of your fashion statements.

And Mayor Suarez, thanks a lot, I mean it. 

Amen, and pass the hand sanitizers. 

COVID 19 - ONE MILLION PEOPLE DEAD

Did that catch your eye? How about the photo of the front page of The New York Times?

The last few days have been a media blitz about cities, communities, states opening up various parts of their locations to a lot of different things that have not occurred there recently.

Let's not get bogged down in the details, since they appear to be getting lost in the shuffle.

We see reports about people coping with eating at a restaurant, shopping in a mall, trying to get a haircut or doing some other inane thing which we all did before Covid 19 became a miserable part of our existence.

The news reports have changed in tone along with all this -- have you noticed there are now stories about accidents or building fires far earlier in the newscast than they would have been before? 

Front Page The New York Times 

It's clear that there is a paradigm shift. People are really really sick of hearing the same stuff over and over -- Covid can kill you, wash your hands, such and such a company is developing a vaccine and some politico isn't wearing a mask.  They are not paying the same amount of attention as they were about two months ago.

Even the nightly sessions of people clapping to honor all those who had to work during the pandemic have lost their gloss. You can barely hear the noise now. 

A friend of mine and I were talking about the likelihood that familiar has bred a different type of contempt -- so much so that we are no longer paying that much attention to some of the things we had paid attention to a few months ago. 

One of those things might be the amount of people that have died as a result of Covid 19. Those grim statistics have become ubiquitous -- just another part of the din surrounding this abject mess.

As the number of Covid casualties rises, will it become another of those things that goes in one ear and out the other? Just another casualty that we will pay scant attention to?

Amen, and pass the toilet paper.  

WEAR THE MASK I DON'T WANT YOUR SNOT ON ME

Okay, they are a bit annoying. 

The masks. They tug at your face, slip off your nose when you don't want them to and if you wear glasses, cause some serious fogging of the lenses.

But what they also do is provide some sense of "protection" against COVID 19 -- that blasted virus that we have all come to hate, detest, and want to disappear. 

If you go on any social media you will find a cacophony of crap written by people who keep telling you that they are wearing the mask because it is protecting YOU - not them. 

Then there are people squawking about how wearing the masks is a violation of their civil rights. Just how many of these people even thought about their civil rights before the pandemic is up to debate. I'm convinced some of them saw a post on social media and jumped on a bandwagon for an issue they didn't think about six months ago.

Whatever.

Bottom line is this -- we are up against a very nasty virus which has killed boatloads, caused havoc to untold others and stands to keep doing likewise until somebody from a drug company comes up with something to kill it, dead, dead, dead before it kills any more of us.

If wearing a stupid band of fabric across my face may keep my sneeze off you -- or perhaps some of your sneeze off me -- then I'm game. My civil rights include not having to deal with your snot landing on my face because you were too much of a jerk to wear a simple item of clothing.

Amen, and pass the face masks please. 

Corona Virus, Appendix & Anachronous Anaesthesia

There are two ways to think of an appendix:
1. a section of extra material at the end of a book
2. a tubular sac at the lower end of your intestine

Well, the second definition has no longer any meaning in my life. I am without an appendix, a preface or a glossary. Okay, I'll stop the book jokes.

It started in the middle of the night, like these things always do. I woke up feverish, my entire abdomen distended and myself feeling much like an overblown balloon. It didn't take long before my brain registered that something was definitely off - and after making a couple of calls to one of those online doctor services, it was time to act.

I got myself to the Emergency Room -- actually I DROVE myself to the ER because no ambulance was coming-- which in the middle of this blasted Covid 19 pandemic was a miracle in and of itself. I managed to screech "It's either my gall bladder or my appendix, people!" and somehow my bent over frame and twisted facial features gave credibility to my self-diagnosis.

One CAT scan later the ER docs proved that the useless appendage had ruptured (I keep saying it blew up because it sounds more dramatic) and I was in the OR where I went to that place you go when they give you anesthesia. I may have hollered at a couple of the guys in the OR not to drop me, but I am not totally sure.

Afterwards a couple of doctors mumbled at me in my semi-drugged state that my-former-appendix had indeed ruptured but not too spectacularly, which is why they handled things laparoscopically. Or so I understand. I asked to see the damn thing but they looked at me the same way the OR people did when I yelled at them not to drop me.

It's been a few weeks now, and I have a couple of pings here and there depending on how I get out of a chair or the bed. I'm about 98 percent okay, with setbacks on occasion when I just seem to run out of steam with very little warning. I consider myself damn lucky that during the Corona Virus pandemic I got in and out of a hospital with several ounces of myself missing and a few stitches.

After this whole thing I'm convinced that we should routinely yank out a person's appendix as soon as humanly possible. The damn thing is useless, does absolutely nothing except EXPLODE with no warning and then wreaks havoc. Wouldn't it be simpler if we just made a little cut and got rid of the appendix before it woke you up in the middle of the night? 

Amen, and pass the IV. 

CORONA VIRUS: DARWIN AND NATURAL SELECTION

It's a terrible thing to consider that as part of the Corona Virus/ Covid 19 pandemic there will be a side effect which Darwinians will tell us was coming all along.

Chances are that the stupid people, the ones who take chances and don't pay attention to common sense, will more likely die in bigger numbers simply because survival of the fittest is a fact. Ask Darwin.

It's all about natural selection. In theory, natural selection refers to the notion that the fittest, the strongest and most intelligent are most likely to survive and pass along their genetics.

This is a photograph I saw today on one of the Facebook pages. It shows numerous residents of a particular community all crowded onto a bike path during the middle of a global pandemic which is killing thousand of humans.

I present the photo as classic proof that Darwin and others who believed in natural selection are  right. 

These ninnies are outside and crowded together walking about during a global pandemic in which the Covid 19 virus is wiping out thousands of people with no end in sight. A killer virus.

Yes, killer.  You know, in which humans die after suffering a painful time being unable to breathe. And oh, yeah, begging for a ventilator to save their sorry arses even at a time when ventilators are scarce. 

The whole thing is based on the stupid notion that these stupid people have about fresh air. They are going to die if they don't get fresh air, will die if they don't walk outside surrounded by other nincompoops seeking exactly that same fresh air. That they could die by contracting the virus isn't entering their empty heads.

See the two in the middle? They have a kid. They are putting their child very much in harms way. Do that to yourselves, fools, but not your kid.

Somebody should report them to the Department of Children and their Families.

And the rest of you? Those walking on the path in search of fresh air? Think of the droplets that are hovering around -- droplets which could contain that virus. Those droplets could kill you. Natural selection strikes again. Darwin would laugh at you.

Amen, and pass the toilet paper. 

CORONA VIRUS: QUEEN ELIZABETH II URGES RESOLVE AND SELF-DISCIPLINE

I have never been a tremendous follower of "royalty," as in those people who are born with crowns and castles with moats. A lot of their activities, it always seemed to me, were a tremendous waste of money and resources. 

Counterintuitively, I have always been a staunch admirer of one member of the British Royal Family --- Queen Elizabeth II. Today, my admiration went up a notch. Again. 

In the middle of the Corona Virus/Covid 19 horror show, Queen Elizabeth II gave a brief and well written address to the UK and the world with respect to the situation.

Her presentation was simple -- an emerald green dress, three strands of pearls and the ubiquitous brooch. No need for bling during this somber moment.  

This is a woman who is 94 years old and has seen her share of life's ups and downs. While she spoke, her oldest son Prince Charles was recovering from his symptoms of the virus. So was her Prime Minister Boris Johnson who is now hospitalized because he's having difficulties breathing.

Never mind the thousands of Britons who were suffering from the virus or had lost their lives as a result.

Her voice was strong, her cadence perfectly timed, the length of time she spoke was sufficient. The Queen spoke that this time would define "our present and our future," and urged Britons to remain united and resolute to overcome the challenge.

"I hope in the years to come, everyone will be able to take pride in how they responded to this challenge," she said. "And those who come after us will say that the Britons of this generation were as strong as any." 

I'm a journalist by training and very frankly have very little trust in public figures, and when I hear a "speech" I often wonder who scribbled what words we heard from any of them.

Queen Elizabeth has her speech writers and of course consults often with her husband Prince Philip as to what she might say during one of these occasions. Did she write her own address today? The curt and simple sentences leave me to believe that answer is mostly yes.

Given the shenanigans by many of the political figures in the United States recently, I found myself hanging on to every word she said. There were no silly statements, no half-truths, no digs at anyone in the audience.

There were the words spoken by a woman who has been knocked down many times and gets up again, dusts herself off and keeps going. Let's not forget she is named after Elizabeth I, another feisty, incredible leader and historic figure. 

Would that some of our leaders here in the US took a page out of their "how to" book and channeled the energy of both Elizabeths. We could sure use it.

Amen, and pass the toilet paper.

CORONA VIRUS: MY MOTHER WAS RIGHT

If you knew my late mother you would understand how difficult it is for me to write something that acknowledges she was right about anything.

My mother was ALWAYS right. You learned early in the game that arguing with her was a waste of time. Now I didn't say I went along with much of what she said - I, too, have my stubborn streak.

But these days I've been hearing two of her dictums so often that it's like she has come back to life and is haunting me.

WASH YOUR HANDS!  

DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE!

I heard those words every single day an untold number of times. 

Now they are everywhere -- with good reason, as these two simple sentences are being counseled as one of the major methods to hold off that heinous, absolutely putrid Corona Virus/ Covid 19.

Somewhere I know my mother is shouting from the rooftops "Wash your hands! Don't touch your face!" a bunch of times a day. She's programming the planet to scream right alongside her.

Come on, you know you want to.

WASH YOUR HANDS! 

DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE!

I never really got an answer from my mother as to why those two sentences were so important to impart to her children. 

But now, I get the idea, Mom, trust me. I'm doing as I'm told. And thanks a bunch. 

You were right.

Amen, and pass the toilet paper. 

CORONA VIRUS: WEAR THE MASK

First and foremost, I am not a doctor nor any type of medical person. Just an observer and writer of what is going on around me.

The latest twist in the ongoing Corona Virus/Covid 19 saga is whether or not people should wear face masks out in public.

At first the word was not to wear them and leave them for medical personnel for obvious reasons -- they are first in the line of fire. There is a shortage, allegedly. I certainly have not seen them on store shelves. 

The last few days, however, that story has changed -- like it always does if you pay attention. Now some are "suggesting" they be worn outside the house etc. In other words, some of the politicos have smartened up and trying to avert lawsuits down the road.

How clueless are you? Do you have to be told by some "authority figure" to do something which makes sense? If an elephant was running at you would you ask me if you should get out of the way or just .... get it? 


In my view anyone who went out of the house the last couple of weeks and did not wear anything at all over their mouth and nose are card carrying examples of people who will end up winning a Darwin Award.  In case you don't know about those, check here: Darwin Awards 


In this photograph I am wearing a 100% cotton squeaky clean kitchen towel. It's one of the "good ones" which only gets used as decoration so it is in mint condition.  

I'm telling you -- wear the masks and the gloves. Is it going to kill you? Probably not.

But the likelihood of something killing you if you don't wear masks and gloves are a bit higher.

Pay attention,  cover your mouth and nose.  Pretend you are hanging out with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Whatever it takes.

Amen, and pass the toilet paper.

CORONA VIRUS: APRIL FOOL

Yeah, you read right. Corona Virus: April Fool.

What a joke.

April 1 has long been a day in which pranksters, jokesters, clowns and silly people of all ages bring out their inner child.  The idea is to pull off a pun or joke on somebody and then when the person doesn't quite "get it" you yell out APRIL FOOL! and then look for another patsy.

This April 1, the entire human race is under an enormous APRIL FOOL type of episode, but it's not funny. 

It's not remotely amusing. 

I spent a part of my day watching news -- something that at another time of my life (when I worked in news) I did as routine.

Today I was looking for a snipet of information from Florida Governor Ron DeSantis. I was wondering when, if ever, he was going to shut down the state like a bunch of us have been pleading for him to do. 

That's so we don't end up with a bazillion dead people thanks to the spread of --- THE CORONA VIRUS! THAT FREAKING THING WE ALL LOVE TO HATE!!!!!

He finally did it this afternoon -- but only after nearly having to pull each and every one of the guy's teeth out of his head by a whole bunch of people higher up on the food chain than apparently the entire population of Florida. 

Dude, bow much do you want to be re-elected? 

Apparently, not much. April fool? We will see. 

Amen, and pass the toilet paper. 

CORONA VIRUS: WEIRD ENERGY

It's nearly sunset and the air is still in Miami, warm like a summer night.

Someone is playing around with a speedboat on the river, whipping by like a bat out of hell. The image is unusual, given that the city is currently going through some changes with respect to the Corona Virus/ Covid 19 scenario.

I am sick of it, but then again who isn't sick of this blasted bug. It's not as if there was anything to like about it from the onset, and now that it's been part of life and the lexicon for a bit it's even more sickening.

The power boat appeared to be heading away from the downtown section, probably going to dock at some point since there is a curfew in the city and a shelter in place scenario. That to me translates as "you are not going to have a lot of fun, people" tonight or any time soon. And that translates to what I"m calling the Weird Energy, this sense of impending doom that is floating above us all like the proverbial Sword of Damocles.

When I say "weird energy" I mean a sense of confusion about what it is that the average person is going about doing or not doing. There is no protocol which is the same everywhere -- a lot hinges on the local politicians and the diversity of those plans is incredibly wide. 

From what I can see, there is NO plan. There is just a bunch of "leaders" with Weird Energy trying to take a stab at something when some serious and hard decisions have to be made.

People if you want to beat this thing you have to make some hard choices. You are going to have to focus on something other than what is on Netflix tonight and how you are "coping" with hanging around your own house for over a week. 

But from what I can see many of you can't, many of you are doing nothing other than floating around without any real sense of what YOU need to do -- and REALLY DO -- to make sure things get back on the right track.

Amen, and pass the toilet paper.