Curmudgeon and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: Part 2

I’d been ill all week. Bad air hammered me until I felt dazed.

Restless, I inspected my “landscaping” from the day before. It could’ve been a notable accomplishment but I’d done it on autopilot. I’d been sloppy and haphazard. Not my best work.

I rubbed my throbbing hand. There’s something about freshly chopped thistles that’s more than the sum of the parts. Also, my hand was still tinted blue.

“Fuckin’ 2020.” I muttered.

It could have been worse. I was as prepared as anyone. I didn’t see it coming but I anticipated something. I’ve been scanning the horizon because I knew society had put itself on the knife edge.

What I mean by “knife edge” is that folks in 2020 were pre-primed to pull the plug. Shutting down not just America but the world formerly required planet-wide total warfare. Now we’re in shutdown over a contagion so weak people need laboratory tests to know they’ve been exposed to it.

I’ll admit, I didn’t anticipate the form of the destroyer. I’m furious it’s so… mundane. A world with intercontinental ballistic missiles, category 5 hurricanes, and Ebola folded over a hyped-up flu? Yes, it sucks but we’ve seen far worse. Black Plague killed half the population of Europe. Small Pox killed 90% of the New World. In 2020, on a planet nearing the 8 billion mark, COVID has taken less than a million souls. For this illness to crush our social order… we had to deliberately take a dive.

I’m fortunate compared to the average but still pained. A stubbed toe sucks even if your neighbor has leukemia.

Meanwhile, the air was bad. Nothing to be done but wait. I wait poorly.

I paced anxiously, noting all the things undone. Firewood supplies too low, pig fence sagging, chicken coop is a shamble, etc… I saw the pattern.

So many things have been put on the back burner. Little projects were deliberately delayed or outright ignored. I’m reluctant to spend money on big projects until I see the end of the current madness. Wisely or not, I postponed a fair number of things for when sanity is restored. Not a bad idea at first but the resolution hasn’t arrived. It’s week 24 of what once was called “flatten the curve”. By week 6 it was clear they weren’t stacking corpses in the streets and this thing would peak and then decline. Three months ago, was the time to celebrate dodging another bullet and get back to work.

Instead, the slog of manufactured anxiety hardened. Week after week of just plain waiting. When will society to come to its senses? It makes a man feel trapped. Do I really have to put up with mask Karens and riots for another two full months? I resent all that lost time. Summer is short, winter is long, and after a certain number of them we die. Wasting everyone’s time (including mine!) is draining our lives.

A foul mood indeed. Locked in cement, waiting, waiting, waiting…

Resignation is not my style. After half an hour’s moping, I was done. I grabbed a shovel. I picked a spot; not far from my big American flag, on a portion of the lawn that has a good view.

I began to dig.

I dug small but deep. The hard earth holding the sides straight. No loose sand here. I used a square shovel to straighten everything up. Then I dug deeper. I straightened the lines again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I was going to postpone the rest. Handle it another day. But the clouds were growing. It would soon rain. I’d waited too long anyway.

I buried the ashes of my dog with reverence but minimal ceremony. I had much to say. I had no voice to say it. The dog knows anyway (or knew).

The ashes had been sitting in my workshop all this time. Carefully stored in a little wooden box. I didn’t want to face that task while my society was hiding behind masks and burning its own cities. But the time had come anyway.

After, there was no cathartic release. I still felt ill. The air was still bad. It was still 2020 and there are still forces tearing my society asunder. But I felt a little less unsettled. Sometimes you turn a bend in the road… gradually.

Waiting until things were “normal” might have been the right thing to do in March. In September, it’s a liability. Never make your move too soon, but don’t wait too long. The Black Plague never came. I don’t have to wait for everyone to accept the fact; it’s enough that I know.

I buried my dog’s ashes on September 11th; a date that’s the JFK assassination of Generation X. Young adults, having no connection to a building felled before they were born, wonder what the fuss is about. Meanwhile, today’s children are living their very own disaster and we’re doing them a disservice. Theirs is not a remote threat. The madness of 2020 is forced into the very fabric of their lives.

I got a better deal than they’re getting. I was born to mutually assured destruction. Instant death from the sky! You know what I learned from that? I learned that instant fiery radioactive death of everyone and everything was imminent but that’s not a good enough reason to cancel chemistry class. Kids of 2020 are born into a Black Plague of the imagination and it’s a good reason to cancel everything. Society cancelled school, birthday parties, summer camp, Halloween, swimming at the pool… everything.

When something can’t go on forever; it won’t. Virtually everyone will slowly accept COVID wasn’t the Black Plague. November 3rd will play an irrational role in that transition. To say it aloud sounds cynical; so we don’t say it aloud. But everyone knows it’s true.

A few will cling to their cult of misery. They’ll reject good news. You can see it happening. COVID weekly deaths are a quarter of the frightful peak and dropping. Instead of celebrating, they substituted “asymptomatic case” for “deader than a doornail”. Slick!

A different but related cult plays politics as bloodsport. They lay the groundwork for an auxiliary lawfare round of electioneering starting even before the actual vote itself. Cults love rehashing the same ground. When the “War to End All Wars” was over, they had a sequel and named it “World War 2”. Get the band back together and play another gig.

Others will fall back to golden oldies. Malthusian tripe resurfacing over and over again: if we’re not going to die of starvation then we’ll die from global warming. Or perhaps another pointless iteration of communist / socialist / progressive initiatives. Now that Venezuela is a complete disaster lets repackage everything as universal basic income and launch it in Sweden.

A few, the most tragic of all, never move on. It will be COVID = Black Plague forever to them. We’ve seen similar arrested development en masse. Witness the sad dying remains of folks who peaked in the summer of ’68. Most of that cohort has had careers, raised families, and lived among the living. A few didn’t. They watch a real estate developer from New Jersey and see not the man but themselves at nineteen. In their minds they personally slay Nixon every day. To them, Nixon/McGovern isn’t from 1972, it’s going to happen two months from now… in 2020. Just a month ago they convinced a major party convention to feature Steven Stills playing an old ditty from 1966. Half of a two-party system used steaming video on broadband internet to beam Buffalo Springfield from a time of black and white TV to the rest of us who just don’t care.

Personally, I had smaller concerns. I wanted to bury my dog in a time of relative stability. It became unattainable. I relented. I buried the ashes in a world where people wear masks like protective amulets and grocery stores use tape marks to show where to stand so the virus can’t see you. County fairs were cancelled, I can’t go fishing in Canada, and the news hasn’t told the truth in years.

It was a big step to accept that. That night, I took the next step.

Mrs. Curmudgeon is already there. She’s been waiting for me to catch up. She’d already made the arrangements and all I had to do was give the nod. Twelve hours after I buried ashes of the best dog I’ve ever had, we put down a deposit and joined a waiting list for a new puppy.

About AdaptiveCurmudgeon

Adaptive Curmudgeon is handsome, brave, and wise.
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13 Responses to Curmudgeon and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: Part 2

  1. Ralph (Chip) Boyd says:

    God bless you, AC.

  2. Mark says:

    Oh, HUZZAH!

    Thank you Lord for puppies!!!!

    No the new dog won’t fix the grief.
    Yes the new pup will help.

    Embrace The Suck* and the new pup!

    * i know you arreddy do embrace the suck. Its cool.

  3. Rob says:

    I am sorry about your dog, a great sadness.

    • AdaptiveCurmudgeon says:

      Thanks. It died earlier this year and it took me out at the knees. Getting a puppy will be another ride on the carousel. Dog owners know this but dogs are so awesome we do it anyway.

  4. Rob says:

    The summer of 68? There was a pandemic going on, a lot like this one if you look at the numbers.
    I have to wonder what’s so special about this one…

    • AdaptiveCurmudgeon says:

      Yes, one pandemic was still ongoing just before Woodstock I believe. Nobody even remembers it. The other we shut down most of public life, throttled travel, and nuked our economy at the first hint of risk. We chose to take the dive.

  5. Grateful Old Tree Guy says:

    You’re a good man Charley Brown. I was 13 when JFK went down for trying to cancel the evil Fed Reserve. My folks were born in 1913-14 so they were woke to the corrupt US Gov. long ago. They knew the Warren Commission was BS out of the gate. So they taught me healthy skepticism. All the history we think we know is illusion. Evil phuquer’s run the US and the world. Think local. The big picture is out of our hands. We’ll never have enough ammo, food and dehydrated water for the bad times. Murphie’s Law applies to (((Them))) also, so they aren’t guaranteed to win. Sorry about the downer vibe, I’m usually more up, but the incessant crap does get old. There’s actually millions of wonderful people everywhere doing ordinary and wonderful things. Good decision on getting another doggo companion, they help bring contentment, acceptance for me. Hang in there, I really enjoy your blog, it helps reading “normal” intelligent life stuff from A. Curmudgeon.

  6. anonymous says:

    Good for you. I’m sure your dog is happy that you are moving on with your Life. Losing those we love is just a big part of Life. There is no cure for that. We just make room for the new to enjoy.

  7. Nolan Parker says:

    I seriously don’t understand why the dumbmasses ( say it as one word, and it”s even more correct) don’t inherently sense the increased general tension in society and know it’s winding up for something that is gonna make the normal we’ve all expected society to return to after The Big Ugly Things are over something we won’t see again. At 65 Ive been watching the corrupt walk, reading the front page of the Houston POst, about the Catholic priests, not allegedly, but straight up busted, messin with the boys, being punished by being forced to relocate to another Parish. I remember wondering why no cops were reading it,, and go arrest the bastards.. When J.F.K. was murdered, I was way too young to understand the Magic Bullet, but seeing the numerous bizarre deaths of potential witnesses who were there that day sure made me start wondering. Found out they lied us into Nam, and generally have lost all faith,, Until TRump..
    Okay,, that said,, The Fed isnt just a local buncha thieves. Every country is in debt. Think about it,, name a country thats actually doing well financially. The Great Harvest that fiat currencies and the banking system has given the banking elite has about run its course. Fiat Currencies ALWAYS fail.. And the Ponzy scheming elite know it.. AND they know that IF the world economy crashes WITHOUT a Scape Goat to blame it on, They become lamp post decorations,,
    SO,, They NEED a Major Disruption of business and normal enterprise to blame it on..
    How convenient,,

    Not sure this is the one,, but bet on one prior to the Big Crash,,

    My opinion,, nobody else, Im the lone dumbass pushing this crazy notion,,

    Sorry,, kinda got into it,,
    Good for you Mr. Curmudgeon,, Moving on, committing, once again,, Hurts every time, but I guess I will always have to find another to have around.

  8. DaveS says:

    Hopefully there’s another BWD (Big White Dog) in your future. My new guy is 18 months old, and is everything, and more, than his predecessor. Not the same, but still the same. I didn’t expect him to fill the hole in my heart, that wouldn’t be fair. Loyal, courageous, big, bold and once again there are snowdrifts of white fur all over the house. And he stepped right into the Chief of Security role, just like his many ancestors have done for hundreds of years. Stay well.

    • AdaptiveCurmudgeon says:

      Thanks. The new puppy isn’t here yet and it will have a tough act to follow, but I couldn’t wait any longer to get one. I simply can’t get by without a dog.

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