The real sheep are those who let the stupids get to them and quit wearing masks because they want to look tough.
Feels like time for another photoblog, doesn’t it?
It’s been ten days since I sent the account info to PayPal and they haven’t made the deposit, so I remain a nobody and the coffee’s gone cold.
It has often occurred to me that perhaps the comparatively new science of aviation will bring the making of wars to an end by reason of the very terrible consequences which will fall upon those nations which, in the future, have the temerity to declare war upon each other.
Suddenly there’s no traffic. We’ve never heard so many birds. We could get used to this.
It’s getting old, blogging about sheltering in place. But we’ve got it easy — for far too many Americans, the shutdown isn’t merely old, it’s a financial disaster.
Maybe we should come up with a standardized personal space reminder phrase, something along the lines of “Distance, please.” You know, like skiers and bicyclists with their “On your left,” like the French with their “bonjours,” like that one friend we all have with his “You gonna eat those fries?”
Broke my stay-indoors-and-out-of-the-sun quarantine yesterday with a motorcycle ride up Mount Lemmon and back. It felt good!