I have a sense of impending doom.
I make the mistake of reading “The First Modern Pandemic” by Bill Gates, in Gates’ Notes. It’s not that he writes pessimistically, (aside from when he says this is a world war but we are all on the same side.) What got me is that all his hope hinges on solutions offered by science, many of which will fail (worst case) or take a year or two to materialise (best case.) Even his description of the opening up of the world leaves me feeling decidedly queasy, especially when he says “those who live through Pandemic 1” …. Pandemic One? Bloody hell, shoot me now!
What’s needed is good old-fashioned distraction. Gangster Gardner inspires me for a few minutes. I tend lovingly to our new harvest of black-eyed peas. Although 2.1 grams of beans is hardly going to sustain us through Pandemic 1.
CI Gov Press Briefing: 3 new cases. Total 73. BA flight will arrive tonight, with medical and supermarket supplies, (Marmite and PG Tips, Green & Black chocolate, pretty please..)
I move onto ‘The Science of Well-being’ an online Yale University course. Great content, but I have a flaw that in the Covid Age I tend to nod off this time of day. It’s a bad habit that I managed to kick post university, but now it is back. When I was at Uni in Nottingham, we had to attend a weekly lecture at 4pm that was literally impossible to stay awake through. I tried several tricks: strong tea, KitKat, short pencils to prop up the eyelids, but nothing could keep me from the nodding-dog syndrome that kicked in whilst I sat upright. I remember the professor’s Harris Tweed jacket and distinctly droning voice. It took him a a full year to get through the entire “Story of Art” by Gombrich, week-by-week, chapter-by-chapter, killing us slowly and softly in that overly warm and dark lecture theatre. I’d like to think I have evolved somewhat since my student days, but apparently not.
I try something new. I am learning to rap. When I was a kid I used to listen to rap, and spend hours stopping and starting the cassette tape so that I could write down every line of the lyrics. I even wrote a rap song once when I was in high school, for a charity fund raiser. It was dreadfully embarrassing, especially the shiny tracksuit I wore, but it did raise money for the first Red Nose Day. I can’t remember if people were bidding for me to stop. So today seems like a good day to learn to rap, given that I could not get any worse. The only direction I can go is up. Or so, I thought, before today’s attempt.
D&I walk the dog, which is rapidly becoming a paradox. Because as this lockdown goes on, the dog needs the exercise more; and wants it less. She’s getting fatter by the day, yet is so reluctant to walk on the hot road since they closed the beaches.
I go for a run. I pass two older gay gentlemen, who cycle at the same time every evening, on their matching mint beach cruiser bikes, playing disco loudly from their speaker, wedged inside a bicycle wicker basket. I hear ‘Knock on Wood’ as they cycle past.
Global news: China launches a warship that was built in months, whilst China-Australia relations hit new low. U.K. passes Germany for 5th position in League Table, with over 161k cases. British Airways to cut 12K jobs. US restaurant industry claims it has suffered more sales and job losses than any other industry. US meat industry supply chain is broken. Millions risk losing their jobs in Global Tourism, one of the hardest hit industries. The restaurant industry struggles to make a profit due to delivery fees.
The global travel industry is doomed. The restaurant industry is on hold. I have a sense I may be out of work for some time.
