Are we almost there yet?

In August, 1914, German Emperor Wilhelm 11 promised the departing soldiers that they would be home before the leaves fell. Many around the world, especially in the military, did not share his optimism, but lots of young men left enthusiastically for the front. 

It's now September, 2020; the leaves will soon change from green to their fall coat of many colours, so Covid 19 better get a move on if it's going to be gone before they fall. Of course, nobody said it would be; although, a couple of wanna be dictators swore it didn't even exist. 

That's enough of that comparison. Sitting in the house resting after a rewarding morning of working in the yard is far removed from huddling in a muddy trench as bullets whip overhead and mustard gas snakes toward you. But I am sick of Covid 19; just as the Monty Python gang was sick of the Swiss. I don't have it. I don't know anyone who does. All we have are statistics,  videos of crowded ICU wards, admonishments from scientific and medical experts and some very touching eulogies following the news. After six months of that, it takes some effort to make the imaginative leap into action required to enthusiastically follow preventative measures that just seem more tiresome than necessary. But then beneath the surface lurks the unknown, the fear of which is the worst and pushes us to worry, not so much me and my friends; although, we're the ones who seem to die from this virus, but younger people whose work and family life are threatened. Jay's school is closed again this week, and he worries that it might be extended as S. Korea, like many countries, is recording an increase in new cases of Covid. Parents in Canada are nervously having to decide whether or not to send their children to start classes in school again this week or next. The people and the economies of every country in the world are seriously threatened by this virus. After decades of thinking we were in control: eating right, exercising, getting educated, working, etc., etc., we lucky few in the first world are now being smacked by the fact that the unknown is unmanageable and unavoidable. 

As usual, I count on Jay to remind me of the lighter side, which is odd as he is the one who really suffers from anxiety and depression, but then maybe not. He has spent a lifetime battling those demons, and I just fall into their shallows once in a while. At any rate, he sent me a picture of May at the beauty parlour about a week ago. I couldn't believe it. She was under an octopus of a curling contraption the likes of which I hadn't seen since I went with mom to her hairdresser when I was very young. And even then it was not being used. The owner of the shop had bought it as an intriguing artifact to add interest to the place. 

May after the procedure. Beautiful. From the 1920s to the 2020s