What I’ve missed most

I just finished reading Maureen Dowd’s latest N.Y. Times column. It made me think about what I’ve missed over the last 18 months or so. I was a bit surprised, because when you ask most people that question, the first answer that comes up is “people.” And that wasn’t mine, at least not directly, or in the usual sense.

Before you rush off and accuse me of being anti-social, let me assure you that I love people, I’m not a loner (although I”m very happy with my own company). But I don’t feel like I’ve been deprived of “people,” because never in my life have I ever spent so much time, talking to so many people, as I have done during COVID.

My fingers are numb from texting and emailing. I’ve spent tons of time “conversing” on social media. I’ve had many, many hours-long conversations on the phone — really long, meaningful, interesting, amazing conversations that were intimate, revealing, soul-bearing and way more profound than many I’ve had sitting across the table from those very same people. And I’ve done my fair share of Zooming — not as much as some, but a lot. Enough.

What I miss is hugging. I’m a hugger. So for me, it’s not just about being in a room with somebody. Continue reading

And now for something completely different …

… how about we all get on the same page?

Am I the only one getting really fed up with all the mixed messages regarding the third vaccine? I don’t understand why everyone’s saying something different and there’s a new variation of the story every day.

First it started with Pfizer, who announced months ago that they thought it was necessary for people to have a third vaccine and they applied for FDA approval. Immediately — and surprisingly I have to say — the CDC, Dr. Fauci and the White House disagreed.

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Thirty-five years ago today …

I was dripping with sweat, wearing a plastic garbage bag for a skirt, with gold sparkles stuck all over my face, neck, arms and legs that were digging into my skin like thousands of tiny sharp needles, getting high from smelling all the pot in the air, taking the occasional sip of rum from a flask that was being passed around.

There were hundreds of us there, maybe thousands — all of us having joined mas bands — waiting for Caribana (as it was called then) to start (it was already more than an hour late and we were baking in the extreme (30+) heat and humidity. An annual event, Caribana is a festival of Caribbean culture and traditions and the parade — which is a highlight of the month-long festivities — is always held on the Saturday of the August long weekend.

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What would my parents think?

I’ve been thinking about my parents a lot, which isn’t unusual. I’m often triggered by memories, lovely happy ones. This is a different kind of thinking about them though. I wonder what they’d make of the times we’re living in and how they’d cope.

My dad passed away first, many years ago, in 1987 so I think the adjustment to this world would be more shocking for him. My mom is just gone 14 years and although the last five or six years have seen massive change, she’d be less surprised than my dad.

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Surprise, surprise, guess who’s back (sort of)

It’s been more than a year since I’ve been here and I must say it feels a bit strange.

First of all, I can’t say I’m liking this new platform, or whatever it’s called (my tech savviness is limited). I’d love someone to tell me why, when it comes to technology — regardless of what it is — they are always tinkering — and, to my mind — never improving anything. It drives me batty. And, in fact, it drives me away.

But in this instance, it has nothing to do with why I haven’t been around, although it may account for why I may not be around all that often going forward. I guess I’ll just have to see if I can figure this out and get to like it.

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