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Writer's pictureEric Knabel

Thoughts From 6 Feet Away: Something Missing

Some random thoughts I’ve had throughout the week:


I remember reading a book written by Donald Trump when the country was obsessed with The Apprentice (seems like another time, doesn’t it?). I learned that he’s a hopeless germophobe, and after reading his rant on how he hates doctors and recommends that his friends sue them, I stopped reading. I can’t help but think that having to manage his country’s response to a global pandemic is a smackdown of cosmic proportions.


Whenever something doesn’t make sense medically about what’s going on with COVID-19, there always seems to be a ready-made answer. It reminds me of college and being told that an irrefutable argument is a scientific fallacy. Not suggesting it is – it’s just a vibe I get.


You can’t fight hate by spewing hateful things, no matter how justified you feel your position to be.


If I was a doctor on the President’s committee on this pandemic, I’d be willing to take a bullet from the Secret Service if it meant tackling him before he says something dumb. I’d also be willing to bet that they’d give me a couple of seconds’ head start before fulfilling their duty.


People complaining about the President is starting to feel like religious groups protesting Marilyn Manson concerts in the 90s. It’s not helping, and it only makes him stronger.


After this is over, I better never see another post on Facebook about how you could live in this secluded cabin for a month for $5 million.


My dog doesn’t know what COVID is, but he thinks it’s awesome. He hasn’t been left alone in six weeks.


On the other hand, the cats keep looking at us like, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”


Speaking of pets, the logistics of a visit to the veterinarian look like the weirdest drug deal in history.


At the beginning of the year, I told my usual concertgoing crew that I was going to lay low and not go to any shows this year. At the time, I thought it was going to be a hard year, but it’s so much easier when everybody else is doing it too.


If Anthony Fauci isn’t Time’s Person of the Year, he needs to hire new people. I’m beginning to think he has People’s Sexiest Man Alive locked up as well.


The Democrats had one job – put a quality human up for the nomination, and they’ll likely win comfortably in November. After having about a thousand candidates to choose from, we get an elderly white guy who very well could be experiencing the beginning stages of dementia. I sometimes feel like the DNC is better at being Republican than the Republicans are.


The only thing posting senior pictures on Facebook did was illustrate how poorly equipped we are to comfort our seniors.


We’ve been isolated a month, and we’re crying about haircuts. Those that are working are accusing their employers of risking their safety. Everyone is angling for paid leave from work. The Greatest Generation, we’re not – no one will write books about us.


Arguing politics right now is like fighting over the china while the Titanic is going down. Just for once, I’d like to see everyone agree on something.


Anyone who’s learning new things about their spouse after being quarantined with them for a month did not do enough homework up front.


Where are the self-aware machines that plug us into an elaborate computer simulation while we lie in a nutrient bath of blissful ignorance?


I struggle mightily with all the hate in this world.


Based on my knowledge of the guy, Jesus was not a capitalist.


An author who has a book idea about a plague or pandemic can’t believe their bad luck right now.


I hope education and medicine (hell, let’s throw in government too) is taking notes during all this nonsense. It would be nice not to have to repeat what we’re doing now.


Some people need sports to come back in the worst way – the things I’ve seen put into tournament brackets is starting to get ridiculous. Just the other day, someone had a tournament of all my alma mater’s past logos.


One should not be shamed for wanting to go back to work and reopen the economy. They don’t care about money more than health – they just see starvation and financial hardship as more of a possibility than disease.


At what point did I start sucking at video games? I believe my skills fell in direct proportion to the rise in the number of buttons on the controller.


Are the laws of social distancing suspended inside grocery stores and Lowe’s?


For some people, we’re not subjugating your rights – we’re protecting the world from your ignorant arse.


‘Unfollow’ may be the granddaddy of all coping mechanisms.


Remember the Eddie Murphy movie “The Golden Child?” There was a line in the movie that the Golden Child of justice was killed, suggesting it was the reason for all the injustice in the world.

I fear someone outright slaughtered the Golden Child of civility.


Someday, Dwayne Johnson’s kid is going to realize he IS Maui, and it’s going to “rock” her world. (See what I did there?)


One day, I won’t be bitter about how my daughter’s high school handled her graduation. Today is not that day.


People may be talking about health care workers as heroes, but do you know who my heroes are? Teachers. They adapted lesson plans for students who weren’t even in the same physical space. And my kids? They knuckled down and adapted when conditions weren’t ideal. The only lesson I learned outside the classroom at that age was making one of those paper triangle footballs.


Why aren’t the Chinese being more active in telling the world how they combated the virus that started in their country?

 

I’ve thought too about the things that I used to take for granted, things that didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but now seem to loom larger in their absence:


I miss the smell of a movie popcorn maker.


I miss the laugh of my friends.


I miss the sharp cold of the air as I walk to the football bleachers to watch the end of the kids’ marching band practice in the fall.


I miss date night.


I miss the sounds and smells of the coffee shop where I work on my writing. I even miss you, lady-who-shares-her-troubles-in-an-inappropriately-loud-voice.


I miss the sound of barbells being re-racked at the gym.


I miss the roar of the crowd when the house lights are cut off and the music begins.


I miss “Ladies and gentlemen, your Indiana HOOOOOOSIERS!”


I miss that giddy feeling at work on a Friday afternoon, knowing I have an evening out with friends or family that night.


I miss being able to plan beyond two weeks.


I miss restful sleep.


I miss being comforting to my patients.


I miss the smell of old books, beckoning me to their shelf at the library.


I miss the hum of excitement in the air at an ice cream shop in the summer.


I miss road trips.


I miss the smell of incense, and the feeling of lightness as I leave church.


I miss having a grill.


I miss being able to exhale without my breath quivering on the way out.


I miss celebrity opinions on current events. Just kidding… no I don’t. I couldn’t even type that with a straight face.


I miss the smell of a bonfire on my clothes – it smells like friendship.


Even though I never thought I would, I miss waiting for my table at a busy restaurant. The best conversations with family occur during those times.



I’d be curious as to what others miss – please feel free to leave a comment if you’re so inclined. As always, be excellent to each other. Party on, dude.

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