I have always considered myself essential in the sense that I’m game to stay open when people like you are shutting it down. In a sense, I’m essential because I believe I’m essential. And once a person believes he’s essential, that person has no choice but to stay open.
Meanwhile, you’re closed. The American public comes to you with their problems but finds an outstretched palm in their collective face. Not only is that not helpful when maybe the American public needs drapes during a major pandemic, but it’s also not particularly sanitary! Put your (maybe; who knows?) coronavirus-infused hand six feet back, pal.
My main concern: several businesses and rock people I frequent and/or watch onstage are guaranteed not to survive the Democrat(ic) Pandemic Plot. For example, what becomes of The Harvard Bookstore? How about The Modern Homebrew Emporium? Matt Murphy’s Pub? Busted Knuckle? Adi’s Bike World? Jack at Phil’s Barber Shop? George and his people at La Flamme? Eco Builders? Brookline Booksmith? China Fair? Rockler? Abodeon? Leavitt and Pearce? Grant Lee? Mike Doughty? Peter Parcek? Audio Lab? As you can imagine, I could easily go on.
I predict a wholesale slaughter. (But don’t quote me).
At least we know we’ll get a new president sometime in the next five years.
Whenever people on the street stop and ask me how long I think this novel coronavirus is going to last, I look them straight in the eye, squint a little, cough (into the crook of my elbow), let a wry smile slowly form on my lips, cock my head, look over the tops of my sunglasses, and shrug my shoulders. “Could be weeks, could be years.”
It could be like an epic novel.
This kind of straight talk is exactly what Americans want to hear. And like toilet paper, it’s in short supply these days. But there’s no limit to the amount of straight talk I can generate. Which is why I tell everyone I see that we all must get together and “fatten the curve.” But not too fat, thank you very much!
Excuse me while I check into why my publicist is hopping up and down and waving her arms.
OK, I’m back. Interesting news: it’s flatten the curve, not “fatten” the curve.
Ya think they coulda told us?!
In my many years of predicting the future, I have never been so wrong as I have about the period in which we currently live. I thought I had it nailed!
That we’re not flying personal blimps to and from work by now I find very odd. I had long thought personal blimps were the transportation of the future, but other (lesser) futurists have thrown cold water on my ideas by claiming that once a lot of people start flying personal blimps to work, well, you’d start to need blimp traffic signals. Which implied blimp accidents, and blimp rollovers, and blimp traffic jams. Which implied not much better than what we currently have. I was sure we were on the precipice of a great blimp movement, but people got so freaked out by this misinformation campaign that no one would get behind the blimp idea, and it petered out.
Alas! And now it turns out there isn’t even much road traffic. Do you realize that I drove from West Roxbury to Cambridge and never once touched my brakes? Slight exaggeration: there were some geese that wouldn’t get out of the way, but after that it was just give it gas and turn the wheel.
My personal opinion, It’s important to get into your car now, while gas prices are low and you are actually allowed to go to the ski slopes.
Wait a minute: can we still ski?
It’s true that I’m polling in the low single digits nationally (or maybe, like, below 1%) for the Democratic nomination, but still, I feel good about my candidacy relative to the effort I’ve put in. Like, I have put no effort into running. I mean none.
And yet I’ll get more votes than you will.
That’s just the way it is: things come easy for me, and being president would be easy as well. If I were in the White House, I would affect change on day one by doing a couple of simple things, like adding some color. I mean, come on, pure white? What if we at least did the trim in a beige?
Second, I’d renovate the Oval Office to add a few hard angles. Maybe make it the Rhombus Office, or the Trapezoid Office. Whatever shape is most likely to freak out foreign heads of state is what I’m for. Keep them on their toes.
Finally, I'd bring Democrats and Republicans together by installing a little bar with a keezer so I could serve my presidential homebrew right from the tap. If there's one thing that can bring the parties together, it's beer. Homebrew is missing from the White House and to my mind that's a real shame.
I can already sense my write-in poll numbers going up.