Blown Over

Dear Kate,

It's a windy day.  Definitely not a good day to do anything outdoor, even just walking around.  I was sure something was going to fly into my face and prayed for it to at least be ridiculous, like the wiggling fish sign of a restaurant I walked by where someone ran into me chasing after his cap.

Still people needed to work and some work was done outdoor.  Today being the Friday after the holiday week, I take that as why so many shops were sending people to take down their Christmas trees, the biggest and most beautiful ones.  I was in downtown.

Now that's a job I can't do: to dismantle Christmas.  I was ready to persuade the workers to stop.  Their movement was slow and sad anyway.

"I can't wait for this to be blown over," every year I'd hear someone saying that, even avoiding the dirty word.  I can understand: Christmas is maudlin, and the way we do it, often tasteless, sometimes vulgar.  But of all the things a person can wait for, to sit out Christmas is about as miserable as a human act can be.  She must have her good reasons; good reasons are all she has.

We have good reasons especially for things we feel strongly about, such as not taking the vaccine.  Such as keep wallowing in fears and excuses and defeats even after taking the vaccine.  Or accepting by now the high possibility of something else going viral soon and continually to ruin life as it should be.  Are we thinking reasons, or just feeling some maudlin, tasteless, vulgar sentiments about our human condition?

We can't wait for this to be over so that we can work on the next item we want to sit out.  I don't think I am being unfair.  Ask the person who wants to fly over Christmas what better time ahead he's so eagerly looking forward to.  Why the dedication and determination to blot out Christmas?  There must be something very sexy waiting for him in January.

If only...then I shall be...but turns out it is....well, I guess it's ok...like, whatever...

Yours, Alex