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Posts Tagged ‘Coronacation’

Dear Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences:

I’d like to nominate my son Gideon for Best Actor in a Leading Role. As Prisoner No. 4 in “Quarantine 2020,” he was as good, if not better, than last year’s winner Joaquin Phoenix.

The humanity — the pathos — he brought to his role really is unparalleled.

Just look at his commitment to character in this scene with his father:

And his performance during last night’s climax when all our test results came back negative?

It featured effusive kissing, hugging, brother-wrestling: All you would expect from an Oscar-winning performance. The display featured the emotional depth of Sally Field in “Norma Rae.” (And watching it was akin to watching her acceptance speech for “Places in the Heart.”)

So I present Gideon for your consideration.

I’ve blocked my calendar for the nominations announcement March 15, 2021.

Warm regards,
Beth

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Dear Prisoner No. 4, aka Gideon,

You know that saying, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time?” Well, in this case, you really didn’t do the crime. You are innocent.

That still doesn’t mean we can set you free, Smooth Criminal. You are incarcerated until we all get our test results.

The family that tests together stays together.

You did get time out of your cell for the testing, but that was not a good time for any of us.

Prisoner No. 4 submits to testing.

We all suffered. Dominic claimed it was “nasal rape.”

You certainly haven’t lost your sense of humor.

On the way home, we had this conversation:

Me: When we get home, I have to go out to buy more wine as someone didn’t follow the list.
Daddy: I thought it was a “pick one” list instead of a “get all.” What if I bought a bunch of wine, and you got mad?
Me: It’s like you don’t even know me. I would never get mad at too much wine.
You: That’s something an alcoholic would say.

Laughter ensued.

In a way, I suspect you are loving captivity.

You don’t have to do your chores.

You can eat in your room.

Your brother isn’t able to harass you.

And we’ve sort of made a joke of it.

Anyway, you can rejoin society (i.e., us) in 3-5 days when we get (negative, we hope) test results back.

Love you despite your record,
Mama

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Dear Coronavirus:

You’ve affected every aspect of my life and the lives of others, but I guess we won’t be meeting in person. At least not right now.

I was sure we had a date. You remember.

So I submitted myself to your truly heinous screening process:

I drove through a tent where people in hazmat suits stuck a stick up my nose, carved out some of my brain, and tried to pop out my eye from the back.

This could be me if the woman had a death grip on the steering wheel.

That’s how it felt.

They said they’d let me know if you were ready for me.

But to borrow from and butcher the work of Randy Travis:

Since my email still ain’t pinging,
I assume it still ain’t you.

And that’s really for the best. All your exes say you aren’t fun.

Kthanksbye,
Beth

UPDATE (July 5 at 7:51 p.m.): I finally got an email. Negative, as I suspected. But peace of mind is everything!

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Recipe for Disaster

Ingredients:

1 night feeling a bit dizzy
1 slight cough
1 morning sore throat
1 article about a Texas family

Method:

Set the first ingredient aside for 24 hours. Then add the second ingredient. Set that mixture aside for another 24 hours. Add last two ingredients, and whip into a frenzy.

Place frothed mess that is surely COVID-19 onto a refreshed CDC website. Set a test timer for one week.

While the timer is running, think carefully about the ingredients.

Remember:

  • The three sleepless nights leading up to the first.
  • The fact that major construction is happening on the floor below the office where you’ve been spending many hours every day. (Hello, construction dust!)
  • Sleeping on your back. Mouth open. Possibly snoring. (Gasp! No!)
  • That only one of the ingredients is a common symptom of the ‘Rona.
  • It’s pollen season. (Ohhhh. Riiiiight. Allergies.)
  • And also you wear a mask every time you are in public, which is not often, AND wipe down and/or spray everyone and everything that enters the house.

Add a good night’s sleep and reminders to fermented stew.

Poof!

Toxic brew evaporated.

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Dear Folks Who Are Wondering What It’s Like To Go To A Theme Park That Just Reopened:

It’s weird. Every bit of it is weird.

As indicated in my last post, we took Eddie to Six Flags for Father’s Day. “We” meaning “Gideon and I” because Dominic didn’t get off work.

🙄

Anyway, I had to make a reservation for us to go. That’s new.

Also new:

· Hand-washing stations outside the entrance

· Temperature scans on the way in (not sure that helps if people are asymptomatic, but ok)

· The requirement for everyone to wear a mask at all times

· Social distancing in the queue

· Social distancing on the rides themselves

· Having to scream/laugh through a mask (but that might just be my problem)

· Hand sanitizer everywhere

So yeah, plenty of changes.

There are some things that haven’t changed:

· Crappy attitudes of the teenaged staff

· Skin-boiling heat with no shade in sight

· Unappetizing food such as a burger with the bun literally dripping butter

· The potential for ride malfunction

Here are the mechanics working on the ride we just exited — the one we were stuck on for 15 minutes.

So it was different, but not so much so that I would stay away. We have to get our membership money’s worth!

Yours in thrills,
Beth

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Dear T—–,

Since Eddie and I listed our downtown condo on Airbnb last year, we’ve hosted all types of people. You have the distinction of being the guest who stayed the longest, and are — by far — the most “interesting.”

I appreciated you coming and staying a while. You helped pay the mortgage on the place when the bookings dried up thanks to the Coronapocalypse.

I definitely feel like I earned your money, even from the first day when you couldn’t find the building (despite me texting you the address three times). Eddie was going to walk down the street and help you with your bags, but you said you had too many.

That was my first clue that you were not planning on staying just the three days you originally booked. And also that you’re not so great at instructions/rules.

I feel like I got to know you really well over the first 48 hours when you sent me 75 texts (I counted). Thanks for letting me know about the various credit cards you like to use, your habit of carrying around $5K in cash, your sleeping habits, your mom’s new restaurant, her birthday, your professionalism and your disdain for the security lady at the front desk.

Near the end of your first booking, we started our stay-extension dance — a dance we repeated four times. I feel like we truly cemented our relationship over the 112 additional texts during your stay.


It’s charming that you developed a pet name for me. I thought the first time was a slip of the fingers, but I became “Bethy” or “Love” for the duration.

I was so amused that I forgave you for locking yourself out three times. But I’m having trouble forgiving you for not returning the keys and parking pass.

To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when you finally did check out. Let me tell you: I have an active imagination and had concocted various scenarios.

However, it was cleaner than I expected. I could have done without the weird, greasy residue on every surface, though.

Let me know when you want to come pick up your bong.

Also, thanks for the review. Maybe I should start a dating service too.

Best wishes and warmest regards,
Bethy

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America is a dumpster fire at the moment.

(Oh wait: Sorry, I’m wrong. Trump promised to “make America great again,” so this must be great. Silly me.)

As a palate cleanser, here are 10 things I learned about my kids over the past two weeks, told in photos with captions.

1. Dominic is more responsible and interested in hanging out with the family now that he is “on a break” from his latest high-maintenance girlfriend.

2. He can be very charming, personable and helpful — even going as far as rowing me around a lake.

3. A boat in a lake is a good place to have serious conversations about life.

4. He won’t go hungry. He can at least make restaurant-quality breakfast sandwiches.

5. He can’t help himself: He is compelled to harass his brother.

6. His brother is a big fat ham.

7. Gideon doesn’t really like cake. He wanted a flan for his birthday. I’d never made a flan before, but it turned out so well (Behold the Birthday Flan!) that I think it’s going to be my signature dessert.

8. Gideon likes to help me make anything in the kitchen. He enjoys cooking as much as I do.

9. He and I feel the same way about hiking unmarked trails in the rain to get to an anticlimactic lookout.

10. We like the same shows.

There’s my dose of positivity today. I’ll reread as necessary to keep my spirits up.
What are your bright spots? Please share!

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Dear Vogel State Park Employees:

My son and I needed to get some fresh air, so we booked one of your efficiency cabins for two nights.

The reservation process was easy.

Getting into the actual cabin was not.

We stopped at the visitors center to check in. It was locked, but there were two signs on the door.

I called both numbers and had to leave messages. Messages!

I opened the app. Checked my reservation. Yep: Everything was in order.

We went to the cabin. Saw this:

Great idea, if only the code came with the confirmation email.

It did not.

Me to Gideon: Well, it’s 3:30, and check in is at 4. Maybe I’ll get the code when I check in on the app then.
Gideon (skeptically): Maybe.

We went to the store to buy supplies. At 4, I checked in on the app.

Checked in — great! No door code — not great.

The beleaguered old man at the front gate when we returned was no help.

Just keep calling! You’re not the only one trying to check in.

We went back to the visitors center. Called the numbers. Left two more messages.

I was about to go FULL KAREN.

Suddenly, I see a Georgia State Parks official truck whizz by.

Gideon: Mama! Look!
Me: I see it!

I take off in hot pursuit. And by “hot pursuit,” I mean 20 mph. The speed limit is 15.

The truck stops at the boathouse. A harassed woman gets out. Looks at me in surprise as I pull up behind her.

Me: We’re trying to get into our cottage and have been calling the numbers.
Her: No one has time to answer the phone.
Me: So how do we get in?
Her: Knock on the back door of the visitors center.
Me (gaping in shock): Ok. Thanks.
Her: And slow down!

Back at the visitors center, we go around back. It’s clear that members of the public are not supposed to be back there.

Gideon knocks. We hear scuffling. The door opens a crack. A youngish blonde woman peers out like this is a damn speakeasy!

Center dweller: Yes?
Me: We would like to check into our cabin.
Her: One moment. (Shuts door.)

In a couple of minutes, she returns with a code written on a sticky note.

Me: Thank you. We’ve been trying to call.
Her: Yeah, we’re not answering the phone. We’re doing inventory.

Inventory! WHY? When people are trying to check in?!

FFS.

Anyway.

The code works. The cottage is great. All is well.

The lake and grounds are beautiful. But your check-in process sucks.

Please get it together.

Thank you,
Beth, a Georgia resident and state park consumer

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Hey Y’all!

I’m inspired by Jeff Foxworthy’s bit about rednecks. Here’s my take on hypocrites.

If you think private businesses can make their own rules (i.e., not making a cake for a gay couple) but then get angry that a business wants you to wear a mask, you might be a hypocrite.

If you think crossing the border illegally to provide for your family is wrong, but refusing government orders to close your business because you need to provide for your family is ok, you might be a hypocrite.

If you think a woman’s right to choose what happens with her body should be subject to government regulations, but you protest government regulations regarding your right to choose where you can go (i.e., shop), you might be a hypocrite.

If you are staunchly pro-life and want to see abortions criminalized but are ok with some elderly people dying as a consequence of jumpstarting the economy, you might be a hypocrite.

If you think Colin Kaepernick taking a knee in protest is inappropriate, but you protest government shelter-in-place orders, you might be a hypocrite.

If you wear a mask while protesting, you might be a hypocrite.

If you rail against government handouts but now are desperate to get your stimulus check and/or unemployment, you might be a hypocrite.

If it’s ok with you to have the government mail you a stimulus check (and passports and IDs) but not a ballot, you might be a hypocrite.

If you are trusting scientists about prescription drugs but not climate change, you might be a hypocrite.

If you love Trump calling people names but don’t like it when Pelosi does, you might be a hypocrite.

If you mourned nearly 3,000 people dying on 9/11 but not the 3,000+ dying every day from COVID-19, you might be a hypocrite.

If you didn’t think it was ok to allow the president to have a Supreme Court pick in an election year in 2016, but it’s ok in 2020, you might be a hypocrite.

If you didn’t believe Christine Blasey Ford but believe Tara Reade, you might be a hypocrite.

Similarly, if you believe Christine Blasey Ford but don’t believe Tara Reade, you might be a hypocrite (or maybe not).

If you made it to the end, great! Thanks for reading.

I’m really not trying to pick a fight. I’m just asking everyone to really consider actions/reactions — especially right now.

Kthxbyeeee,
Beth

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Dear People in a Certain Facebook Group,

Thank you for bringing me joy during the Coronapocalypse. I am not a fan of Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp. It’s not his politics as much as it is that I think he might be a beer short of a six pack. He’s also shady as hell. (My blog = my opinion; you disagree = stop reading, or we can have a rational debate.)

I’m also not a fan of our president. He was fine on “Celebrity Apprentice.” He’s not fine as leader of the United States. It’s like a pervy drunk uncle is running the country. (Spoiler: I didn’t vote for him. You know, because of silly reasons, really: racism, misogyny, narcissism, etc.)

So imagine my surprise and GLEE when my two dislikes collided on this page, thanks to a new member. In his first HOUR of joining, he made his first post.

I HOWLED. And as I started scrolling through the comments, I started doing that smoker’s laugh I do when I’m really amused. That led to cry-laughing.



Yes, it is completely disrespectful (not like the target of these names has any respect for the office, but I get it).

Yes, I know that I objected when people on the right did this to Obama (seriously: no better name than “Obummer?”).

Yes, we should all behave more like responsible adults.

But DAMN if this isn’t funny to me.

So thank you for your existence.

Yours in shared contempt,
Beth

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