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Sacrifice now, or pay later

Sovereign State

Dear SuperSpreaders,

This may strike some as preaching to the converted, as my anger comes through. I would say I am preaching to the Unconverted. Jeremiah I am not, but here goes a try.

This December I will have lived in the Northwest Corner for 50 years, first on Belgo and Reservoir Roads in Lakeville and now I want to build a wall around the area with a big sign saying, “anyone who has been on a plane recently will be quarantined for life outside this wall.”

I recently dialed a number and got it wrong. I dialed it again not convinced I had gotten it wrong. I got the same aggrieved, I think, Black man.  “Wrong number, Dumbass,” he said and slammed down the receiver, but not before I apologized profusely all the while wondering how many times he had been apologized to by a dumbass white guy. I am reminded of John Kelly, when he was on the Trump team, being asked how many immigrants he thought should be allowed in to the country.  He said “Somewhere between zero and 1.” Thanks, General, now when did you say your antecedents came here from the Old Sod?

But I digress. Back to you, SuperSpreaders. How are Grampie and Grannie? Did they get to hug Little Penelope and fast-growing Ulysses (not even his namesake would have left Ithaca ­— to strive to seek to find but not to yield to Troyvid 19).

Breaking news: Gramps and Grannie could live another decade or more, but now?  Fat chance, given your lack of respect for them, among our most vulnerable. A little self-restraint, maybe? I recall when seatbelts were first introduced.  You went ballistic — I’ll crash if I want to. No one takes away my liberty!

People around the globe are suffering famines, pogroms,  typhoons, earthquakes destroying towns, villages and whole cities. Yesterday as I am writing this, over 2000 died from COVID. That’s like two Falls Villages, where I live. And you can’t stay off planes.

You can’t wait to see your demented Uncle Rudy sweating his hair dye off while sickophanting DJT?

Pull up your Big Person Pants and sacrifice one holiday season.

London during the Blitz. Nightly Nazi bombings. We are being bombed daily. Every minute (or is it second?) we lose another life.

The tube just showed us long lines at airports. An Aegean of roller blades. Was that Odysseus sans backpack? I think not.

See you all at the parlor.  Oops. Forgot. Not allowed. 

Jeremiad over — for now.   Requies those Cats in pace, nevertheless.

Dominus vobiscum. Et cum spiritu tuo.


Lonnie Carter is a writer who lives in Falls Village.


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