ROBBLOG #873- Nudge, Nudge. Jab, Jab.

 

It used to be people were saying- "hot enough for you, do you think spring will ever come or when will the Conservatives pull their lips over their heads and..."

Now, these days people are asking- "So when do you think you'll get your shot?"

This bugger of a thing called covid is the reason.

It's hard to believe we've been doing the covid shuffle for a year now and the year is likely to morph into a year and a half- if not more.

I think we're pretty lucky that pharmaceutical companies have been able to develop and manufacture so many little bottles of a vaccine that will shoot covid in the ass quickly. I know it's not quick enough for many of us but that's how it works.

Just think of all the money that glass company is hauling in making all those little bottles!

I would like to have my shot now so maybe I can return to a normal life but then everyone around me will have to get the shot as well to allow life to return to some state of normalcy. I think the earliest I could expect to receive the vaccine is perhaps late spring or by the end of July. Here in British Columbia we are being stacked in age levels. Actually, front liners are first as the name suggests then First Nations and care homes. At least I think that's how it's been working. 

Sometimes it can all be so confusing.

Not as confusing as the Ford Government's pronouncements in good old Ontario. Everyone makes covid announcements in that province- even the Butcher, Baker and Candlestick maker.

I wonder if Ford will be kicked in the "willnots" at the next election.

It shouldn't be a surprize to most Ontarians how he's dealing with the covid crisis.

YOU voted for him after all.

SURPRIZE!

Anyhoo, back to British Columbia, we have the mild-mannered Dr. Bonnie telling us almost daily what's what in the covid world.

Poor old Dr. B.

She's beginning to sound like an old 78 r.p.m. record stuck in a slot. I don't even take the time to listen to her these days and six months ago I waited patiently for her report at 3:15 PM Pacific Time.

So, after the Front-Liners, Retirement and Care Facilities and Tribes, the plateau for receiving shots starts at over 80's then 75 to 79's. 70 to 74's and so on.

If it doesn't happen by the end of July I'll be in line for the 70 to 74 jabs.

I wish- like many others, that it was a free-for-all.

Put the vaccine in place at the local church hall and open it up for 24 hour a day for shots in the arm until the vaccine runs out. If you want a shot bad enough, all you have to do is get your ass to the hall and praise Jesus when you feel the little prick.

That doesn't sound right- does it?

Unfortunately, this is not the way those in command see it it happening. They have to make our lives even more difficult by making even more rules. Wouldn't it be simpler to open it up now and jab away at those of us who make the effort to make our own way to the church hall with a Tim Horton's cup in one hand and a bare arm boldly raised in anticipation of the vaccine. It seems that that solution would be too easy.

What if one day a week it was open season.

Say every Thursday from 9 to 9 it's a "shot free for all" and all those in attendance get a coupon for 10% off at A&W.

It could work.

Now that all these companies are promising hundreds of thousands of shots- maybe millions, to be delivered in March and April, it only makes sense we get it out of the refrigerators and freezers and into our arms where it belongs.

Of course like the head of the Canada Pension Plan- Mark Machin, we could fly to the United Empire Emirates and get a jab there claiming we are in the country for "personal reasons".

wink-wink, nudge nudge,

say no more...

ROBBLOG #872- Take Two Aspirin and a Shovel and Call Me in a Week

 

This month of February has never, ever been one of my favourite months.

It lags.

For a short month it doesn't know the meaning of short because it feels so long. It used to feel long back in Ontario and yet, still it feels a little longish here on Vancouver Island.

I have no answer as to why and yet when it gets around the three quarter mark in the month, it slows down even more.

I know March is just around the corner but when and what corner?

This year, this month has dragged on for several reasons.

One reason.

I haven't been felling 100% well.

I don't think I am on my deathbed- at least I hope not, yet I am not firing on all cylinders.

I am not going into detail here.

I have seen a doctor twice.

Really, three times if I count the receptionist calling telling me to go get this "test".

Well as long as I don't have to study I said!

Buh Bum Bump!! ~drum roll~

Then, once it was a phone conversation. True to form during these covid times. Thinking back, there's always a week or more in between calls.

It's the nature of "doctoring" these days.

I really don't like going to the doctor.

Nothing is fast.

You wait and wait.

If it wasn't for the need of having a prescription written- which hasn't happened this time, I could self doctor. Yes, I could sit in front of my computer and search various illnesses that I think I may or may not have but a doctor can do that for me.

"Hmmmm..."

tat, tap, tap,

"You could have disintrophiatica or melonhasselautomy or croughicritchenus"

tap, tap, tap,

"of course it could be syriatica, or numdetroughery or...."

tap, tap, tap.

People tell me not to look at Dr. Google and yet I have sat in front of a medical professional who barely looks at me while he/she taps away on the computer.

Maybe they're writing a shopping list because they have no idea what I have or may not have.

It's frustrating. If you've been in this same situation, how many times have you thought to yourself-

"It's cancer. I know it is. I have cancer."

So that my dear readers is reason number one that February is dragging.

Reason number two as to why February is dragging this year is a four-lettered word. 

S N O W.

We had snow here on the island a week ago.

Three days of the blasted stuff. As Islanders we mostly stay home and inside. There are some snowplows but nothing for clearing sidewalks. Most of us have one shovel or none at all. Then as to driving in the stuff. Island snow is heavy not light and fluffy like on a Christmas Card.

I could drive in it. I know I could but it's the Islanders I worry about. Snow like this happens once- maybe twice, in a decade so you can't say most Islanders are savvy when it comes to driving in snow.

It's just safer to stay home.

Staying cooped up with covid is one thing but add "snow days" to that and time goes by very, very slowly.

Damn you February.

Better days are ahead.
They may find a cure for whatever is making me feel unwell.

The snow might not return for another year.

All I can do in the meantime is keep busy.

Exercise.

East well and first and foremost- stay safe.

ROBBLOG #871- Magnificent Elitism

 

This My Darling Readers could be a fable of immense proportions. It is up to you to decide.

It was a quiet, warm evening as I sat in my favourite chair with a favourite book in hand. I was intensely re-reading words I had read a half dozen times before when I paused, looked up and felt I needed to have this conversation- one-sided as I knew it could ultimately be.

I gently closed the book, keeping a middle finger tucked inside the page I had been reading...

I began my gentle riddle of thoughtful, cheap words aiming at the benevolence who held all our dreams aspirations and hope for eternity in it's gentle hands and heart. I felt the clean, pure light of all my days encircle my brow. All the knowledge I had gleaned up to this moment in time rushed forward and words, thoughts and love spewed from the very tip of my wagging tongue out into the time, space and continuum of the room and world beyond. I began to speak in rhyme and reason for no treason in this season would make reason...Well, maybe not so much rhyme...

 Me: Oh Dear, Magnificent, Superior Being.

One with our belief in a Heavenly place, leader of all that is right, true and deserved.

Master of one's universe and the universe of others both within this galaxy and without.

Father-figure to minions and millions.

Voice of truth, reason, true grit and detent. 

Galant and self-Righteous Redeemer.

Doer and un-doer. 

Mentor to the sloths and slothful.

Distinguished one who answers voices from not only poor and super poor, dumb and dumber, rich and richer but even from those most elite- such as myself and un-elite such as the poor buggers who inhabit the other side of the tracks- in places where tracks exist.

Please hear my wants and words for it is at this time I ask and plead with you to reserve judgement, respond and heed the words, wishes and expectations I am about to level onto your most magnificent playing field in your special light-encased place surrounded by not only a realm of glittering angels and those who are good and do-gooders but all those who have gone before surrounding your esteemed magnificentship with love, respect, everlasting doing and an immense amount of genuflecting, ass-kissing and all manner of pleading and suggesting and hopefulness in a time of want and need- except for the rich and richer and elites on the upper East side, who you enshrine with warmth, love and exceedingly good times- not to mention high taxation.

I listen in awe to the smallish voice inside my head repeating your beatitudes stretching across earth and time- and time again, emanating from a loving omnipresent mind, enlarged heart and solid judgement whether now or in times of joyful celebration, for yeah I sayeth unto you to allow this- your poor, elitist servant, to ring and speak sweetly to your ears and heart and to weave...

~ a holy, powerful voice rings out~

God: Stop! Stop! For my good sakes Rob, just STOP! How many fucking times do I have to tell you, I can't make your husband's numbers come up on 649!

Me: Oh you can't. I guess I have asked before...

God: Yes you have and you are starting to annoy me. Annoy me a lot that I am thinking I might smite thee. I mean, I don't want to Rob. I like you. I really do and I have great plans for you when the time comes but for now for Christ on a Cracker Sakes- just shut up!!

Me: Okay then. Righty O. Have a good evening...

I picked up my book. Pulled my middle finger out and began once more to read...