Onward We March

My banana annoyed me this morning.

Yep…that’s how it’s been, these days.

My fruit is irritating me.

And to be honest, it probably wasn’t the banana’s fault…at least not entirely.

I was just in my usual “Mandated Lockdown”bad morning mood, which, after nearly 2 months, is a bit more intense than my usual, every day, bad morning mood.

Because on those occasions, I almost never get angry at my bananas.

Peaches, sure, but not bananas.

Peach cups come with all that sticky peach cup juice which, if not opened carefully, can lead to a multitude of sticky peach cup juice incidents.

But bananas are pretty much incident free, sticky or otherwise.

Until this morning.

This morning, as I sat down to peruse the online morning news, I began peeling my banana—no differently than I do on most banana mornings—but found a few too many of those stringy banana peely thingy things hanging off said banana…and in some places in between the banana and the peel itself.

But that, in and of itself, is no reason to incite banal banana bashing.

In the past, this sort of issue was easily addressed by simply grabbing hold of said stringy banana peely thingy thing hanging off the banana, and placing it to the side.

Except, in this case, with these particular stringy banana peely thingy things, they were somehow removing themselves, with no apparent stringy banana peely thingy thing rhyme or reason. Just falling free, before I could grab them, and dropping onto the floor, or my knee or foot or whatever happened to be in the way.

So now you see why I would get so upset…especially during these challenging or difficult or uncertain or whatever euphemistic term you prefer to call this suck suck sucekty suck time were living in, right now.

The most inconsequential of unimportant matters become a big annoyance.

Like the insane, never ending snap, crackle, pop of my Rice Krispies.

Especially Snap.

I mean, what’s that about?

Do we really need Snap?

Snapping is just plain rude.


Especially if it disturbs your nap in the middle of a meeting.

And meetings have become all the rage these days.

But not just business meetings…Zoom meetings…of any sort.

Locked up and holed down, folks are desperate to meet up with other folks in any which way they can.

So, the post-modern Brady Bunch/Hollywood Squares Zoom format, has become quite trendy.

Five, ten…fifteen, twenty…friends, family, what have you, all gather together in tiny boxes and chat with one another.

Or try to chat.

Mostly because there’s a slight digital delay from what you say, when you say it to when they hear it, after you’ve said it.

Which usually lends itself to a bunch of slack jawed faces, unresponsive to whatever clever witticism just left your lips. This in turn has the awkward effect of creating an involuntary quizzical expression on your own face, which, in turn, is not viewed until after they all get the joke and laugh hysterically, which by now, as they catch  up to your perplexed expression creates even more awkwardness as they begin to think maybe you weren’t making a joke at all, and  they’ve somehow insulted you.

However, to be honest, this has no real effect on me since I usually get the same reaction to my many clever witticisms, even when I make them in person, face to face.

And then, of course, among the sea of many faces, there is you, sticking out, at least to you, like a sore thumb as you attempt to position yourself in such a way that looks natural but hides the large
protuberance, just to the right of your chin, that closely resembles Uncle Fester from the Adams Family.

But, not to worry, since everyone else is too busy focusing on their own celebrity reminiscent facial flaws, they’re not even aware you’re there.

Plus, they’re all engrossed in their visual backgrounds of choice and fine tuning how they read on camera.

Set dressing is important.

A bowl of fruit here…a leafy palm tree there. And if you can get a crackling fire going, preferably in the fireplace, even though it’s 78 degrees in May…all the better.

Because your background says a lot about you.

It’s really not the time to be showcasing your peeling, living room paint or that unhealthy yet provocative black mold collection you’ve cultivated in your kitchen.

Not surprisingly, many people choose to set up with a bookcase in the background.

That was my initial go to, as well, until I discovered, with today’s crystal-clear HD video, the latest public past time is scouring and critiquing everyone’s book titles. 

Yeah…right?

Hey, I make no apologies for my collection of Archie’s Big Books featuring Betty and Veronica.

Sure, I could be like everyone else and set up a faux collection of all the hoity toity classics…War and Peace, Moby Dick, House of the Seven Gables, Plato’s Republic, Jaws….




But if having a perpetual little boy crush on Betty Cooper is wrong…
I don’t want to be right!

Anyway, onto Memorial Day Weekend we go, whether we’re ready for it or not.

The annual, unofficial start of summer, which, this year, means we can unofficially begin to bitch and moan about how screwed up this summer’s gonna be.


But before we do that, it’s probably a good idea to remember, all the folks who would happily take this summer, as is, if they could…but will never have that chance, this year or any year.

So, onward we march, happily—because we can—focused on better days over the horizon.

And to borrow a quote, which has been bandied about a lot, these days, from good old Bulldog Churchill, who knew a little bit about adversity…

“If you're going through hell, keep going....”

And don’t forget the sunscreen….

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