No Holds Barred: Pent-up pandemic emotional release

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It’s called the “big pent-up pandemic emotional release.” Crowds are back full force, but I am still looking for balance. Some streets of my town are completely maskless. Fauci and CDC guidelines are long gone, and Covid is history.  Even though my State of Arizona is only 37% double vaccinated. And yet, drive another mile away and you’ll see people are only maskless outside and masked up inside buildings — even if it is a huge Costco store.  For many of us, the mask remains around the neck or in a pocket.  It is still an “essential.”

I must have missed the “Covid is over” memo.  But I will take the current “recovery” intermission with my mask in hand.  I just don’t know exactly how to act and it all feels too weird. My Lysol hand sanitizer is still in my car cupholder.


I don’t have a wedding, graduation or family reunion to fly to in celebration of my new social skills in hugs and kisses.  My Mom does turn 99 on July 4th, and thank God we don’t have to endure another “drive-by” with drunken neighbors holding balloons in convertibles circling our driveway.  Mom refused that offer last year. This year she requested a more calm and comfortable piece of chocolate cake in our living room. No balloons. No people.  This is an example of the “old normal” of decent social mores, not the “new normal” hysteria.

So, while we are all cautiously finding our own “summer of return and recovery” in our individual ways — what are we looking for that is helpful in this odd current landscape?  

I just saw a great quote from the “King of Recovery” Tiger Woods which I found very Zen and appropriate for this time. Woods sustained a series of horrific injuries to his right leg, ankle and foot in a February car crash.  He has already been through numerous knee and back surgeries over the years. 

“But this leg injury was different.” He has admitted he is in no way focused on his golf game return.  “This has been more painful than I ever experienced.  So I focus on my number one goal right now — merely walking on my own. Each day for me is just one step at a time. No more. No less.” Patience is a golfer’s virtue.

You would think the New York Mayoral race would be taking up a lot of oxygen. My NYC friends admit they aren’t that interested and so far there aren’t even banners, placards, or signs in any neighborhood windows.

Are we sickened by politics? Have we been so battered we have fallen into a malaise of “whatever” — “who cares” — “it’s over”? Are we feeling like we are all up against a world of falling timbers? What happened here? This should be an exciting, important race. Too bad Anthony Wiener isn’t back to give it some spice!

The good ol’ days.

It’s clear no one watches TV news anymore (thank God).  MSNBC and Fox are no longer the background noise or wallpaper it used to be.  Too soon to see if sports will become the great fallback and take over the attention. Certainly sports fans are back in droves.

Clearly shopping is exploding, and that always does as shopping therapy is still the fastest path out of upset. Mall walking has returned as exercise again.  Of course, the great restaurant return is now a mainstay. But lets get serious — how much of that can you stand? Outdoor chairs begin to get uncomfortable and cold glasses of Rosé will get old by August. Eating out is still not theatre, but for some it has been a socializing savior. We will see how you like your AmEx bill by the end of September. You might reconsider all the post vax high-rolling.

Anybody home?!

I do hope that all the Covid tensions subside enough so that taking a flight to anywhere won’t result in passenger altercations; like punching a stewardess or other passengers over seating and masks.  It does seem like stewardesses are the only police left reminding people to mindfully mask up. Hopefully a fist in the face is not considered the respectful move for holding a personal boundary.  Meanwhile, I will not be flying until real recovery is announced and who knows when that will be? Again … patience!

Margaret and “Lilibet.”

At the moment,  The Queen is supposedly welcoming Harry back to some kind of Royal fold when he arrives in Engand for Diana’s tribute. And here some of us were hoping she would strip him and Meghan of their Royal titles because it is The Queen to rise above all squabbles of the cancel culture. Clearly Harry and Meghan’s naming of their new daughter Lillibet was the perfect PR move to success.  Hopefully H&M will now shut down the constant complaints and move on!!

Then there is the Melinda and Bill Gates divorce and the revelations of his sexual dalliances! Gates and Bezos have now become the top contenders of “nerd pervs” with all their marital separation anxiety stories. Gates was recently spotted in NYC at Nobu dressed in awful cargo shorts and ankle black socks (deadly “creep” giveaway) and a t-shirt displaying a bloated torso with prominently sagging pecs!

Sorry to fat shame, but you are a global gazillionaire power broker, can’t you find the time and money to get pumped and taut?  He was photographed with a very young mini-skirted woman who was his daughter (thank God).  The question here is not the many reported office affairs he’s had but his alleged role with Jeffrey Epstein that might include underage girls and boys. His wife Melinda used the words “irretrievably broken” in her divorce petition.  That means “awful,” not just bad.  Stay tuned, and watch for a Netflix documentary on it in 2 years.

Jeff Bezos is now escaping all his own 2-year-old separation tactic (including his National Enquirer reported affair with Hollywood “player” Lauren Sanchez and his famous dick pics) but takes a rocket to the moon. Someone on the lift-off site reported the rocket truly resembles a huge penis. Good for Bezos!!  He got his childhood dream of being in a moon launch and a whole lot more!

There’s even a new Frank Sinatra book out. Why not?  Sinatra can do no wrong in my book. He still wafts of true class and charm and sterling talent. He’s been gone for 23 years, and no singer can come close, let alone replace him!  So bring it on!  I think we know it all anyway.  

In the new book, “Sinatra and Me: In the Wee Small Hours” by Tony Oppedisano, we learned that Frank had flings all over the place, especially “three-ways” (who didn’t).  But he smartly refused to have sex with Marilyn Monroe because he felt “too many men took advantage of her” and so he remained a close friend. And though he cheated on first wife Nancy, he never got over his guilt of leaving her, and yearned for a reunion till the day he died.  

Ahh … a cheat with a heart of gold and a lot of ring-a-ding-ding.  Let’s face it — Frank gets a pass.  At least he was the epitome of a man’s man — women loved him — he was a consummate gentleman, and notoriously generous throughout his life.  Something these modern day creeps like Epstein, Weinstein, Moonves, Cosby (remember him?) don’t know.  No woman would ever want to “shake down” Frank.

However, let’s leave the last word to Desi Arnaz.  It seems he and Lucy were married for a long tumultuous 20 years, and both were always “busy on the side,” but kept it quiet till they couldn’t. Desi’s comment on the situation:

“Marriage is okay. But adultery is more fun. Ask Lucy!”

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