COVID Senior Lockdown, Day 9

It’s a sunny day and there’s a new crop of dogwalkers and joggers out there. Never seen them before. My guess is the humans had jobs downtown and went to gyms before or after. Now they have to do it the old-fashioned way. I can’t explain the new dogs. Maybe they’re rented. The gig economy is a gift.

Yesterday the Governor closed non-essential businesses. Non-essential is a funny concept. I worked for a while in the government. When only essential personnel needed to report, it hurt, because I never had to. Darn those days off. In the liquor store yesterday morning, pre-pronouncement, the checkout lady said, “If they close liquor stores, they’ll have a riot on their hands.” You know she’s right. The missus pointed out that the same can be said for veterinarians. Cat lovers may be even more dangerous than drinkers, who eventually run out of energy. Both survived. Smart man, our Governor.

The stock market is driving my buddy Ted crazy. He watches it like a hawk and agonizes big time when the daily downs are beating the daily ups. Today, the Dow finished up 2,093 points. According to the radio expert, it’s the largest percentage gain in history. Ted’s not impressed. Three days ago we lost all the gains from the last three years. It’s a roller coaster. Strap in and scream when you go over the edge. It helps.

The stove is on the fritz, and I had to call the store to set up a service call today. The young lady very politely read me three HIPPA-violating questions to vet my contagious quotient and that of my home. It was reasonable, but weird. Of course they don’t want to send their employees into the danger zone, but it was odd having the perky young receptionist asking me about my health. Fortunately, we’re still stable, and they’re available. We’ll be around between 9 and 1 tomorrow.

Mrs. F and I love music, and our collection of 60s-70s-80s vinyl is sizable, if dusty. It’s fun to have a turntable. Last night she had a hankerin’ for some Glen Campbell and went digging into the C’s. No Campbell, but we had a jammin’ reggae dinner for two with Cliff, Jimmy. Jah, mon.