There was a time (before mobile phones) when I knew the location of every Casey’s and Hardee’s pay phone in Iowa. They were the only way to stay in touch with the office. Check for messages, etc. Here’s how I remember making calls from the road:
And while I couldn’t recite those Sprint numbers, I could punch in the numbers without thinking.
“I have had such a sickening of men in masses, and of causes, that I would not cross this room to reform parliament or prevent the union or to bring about the millennium. […] And I have nothing to do with nations, or nationalism. The only feelings I have – for what they are – are for men as individuals; my loyalties, such as they may be, are to private persons alone.”
— Master and Commander (Patrick O’Brian)
In May of 2004 I received an invitation to beta test Google’s new email service, Gmail. Google had acquired Blogger in early 2003 and sent invites to users. We were allowed to invite two friends. As I recall, people were selling such invitations. It was early enough that I was able to get “stevemays@gmail.com”
For reasons unimportant, yesterday I created a second Gmail account, my first ever. I decided to use the name of a character from one of my favorite novels. I searched for more than half an hour, picking the most minor and obscure characters I could think of, and never found one that wasn’t taken. I finally gave up and went for nonsense: poontangmeringue@gmail.com. And decided I didn’t really need a second account after all.
Google says they have 1.5 billion active Gmail users. I’m a little surprised poontangmeringue was still available.
Don’t recall where I found this or who said/wrote it, but it goes something like this:
You died ten years ago and –somehow, miraculously– were brought back to life ten minutes ago. You’re fully aware of having missed the last ten years but have all of your memories and sense of who you are (or were).
Before digging into what you missed in the last decade, you begin getting a sense of what’s going on now. A deadly virus killing millions; a climate crises that might be too big and too late to fix; fascism on the rise; the flame of American democracy flickering.
And your response to this horrible state of affairs?
“Man, it’s good to be alive!”
On the COVID Caution Spectrum I’m probably an 11 out of 10. And fortunate in my circumstances so I can avoid unnecessary exposure. For the last two years I’ve listened as friends and family lectured me on the importance of not letting “some virus” control your life. “You gotta live your life, dude.”
A philosophy I have yet to hear in any of the countless interviews with people with severe and/or protracted cases. These are mostly of the I’ve-never-been-so-sick-get-vaccinated variety. Where are the folks on oxygen saying, “I almost died but, hey, you gotta live your life, right?”