Over the last week several readers were thoughtful enough to comment on the Quarantine Chronicles, and some sent in some tips and suggestions of varying degrees of difficulty.
There’s a whole orchestra of other lessons on YouTube, including how to play the cornet, but hopefully there will be a cure or vaccine for coronavirus before you master the horn. In fact, I’d recommend giving up now. You might want to instead spend a bit of time mastering the ukulele, an instrument that’s generally inexpensive and just a little more difficult to play than a kazoo.
All you really need to know right now is what’s happening in Long Beach. The farther afield you go in terms of national and international news, the deeper you’ll fall into depression and pretty soon you’ll start referring to COVID-19 as “the Chinese Flu.” This is not the time to go all moron on us.
Perhaps I could get in my car and go to the El Dorado Nature Center and enjoy a hike killing the day by getting some sun and air and working up some Thoreauian philosophy which would be excellent fodder for a nice, bucolic Quarantine Chronicle installment.
As a house, mine is just sort of a C-plus, B-minus place, but it’s a five-star glamper. Who goes glamour-camping in a tent that comes equipped with a sofa, a recliner chair, a nice set of dish ware and a piano?
I’m a strict Constitutionalist when it comes to matters concerning the spread of coronavirus, or at least until my cabin fever hits 106 degrees and I wind up sprinting out of the house and running around kissing nurses like the war had just ended.
Even in pandemics I’m privileged. I’m still being paid (I think/hope), I don’t own a business that will be, at best, imperiled by this pandemic and I don’t have the coronavirus—or at least I don’t feel sick, although I tend to develop whatever symptoms are in the news about any sort of illness and am therefore a good candidate to become the first person to develop hysterical coronavirus.
“Attendance at open houses was normal to heavy. But I’d expect that to go down,” Phil Jones said, now that the health situation is continuing to grow more dire by the day.
BuzzFeed has collected 19 20-second substitutes to sing while soaping your hands in Tito’s vodka, ranging from Prince’s “Raspberry Beret” to “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.”
If you want to use the Ebell for your own wedding, you’d better hurry up and get engaged now. Owner Alan Dunn says the space, which handles about 100 to 120 events per year, is booked on Saturdays pretty much all year.