The old proverb, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going” played out in true form last month in Washington, D.C. Faced with yet another decision on how best to aid Americans suffering mightily from COVID-19 and its myriad ripple effects, our elected officials “got going”… as in going home. Faced with working out a rescue plan for its constituent base- you know, the ones that elected them- Congress punted.
Actually, it took its ball and went home. One group wanted to give out $1.2-trillion, the other group $3-trillion, and yes, there were agitated negotiations, but inevitably, the compromise was an agreement to abandon ship and go home for a month. The President, naturally, filled this legislative leadership void by making his own decision about what should be gifted to Americans and businesses in the stunning chasm left by Congress. We’re still waiting to see how that effort plays out. Congress? Compost.
If you or I leave work without getting our jobs done, we’re fired, or at least warned. How far removed from reality must these supposed people of the people be to let wary families, the elderly, and single people suffer with food, rent, medical, and mental issues?! Representatives? How about reprehensible?! They should stay in meetings until finalizing a decision; raise the room temperature one degree every few hours to make things uncomfortable… just like things are for too many Americans. Bet they’d come up with a compromise plan in a day or so… or risk fainting.
The late-August local response to our latest COVID-19 outburst took 25 pages to explain. Hope you read it. If you go out, no more than five people can gather together. But if you go out forever (i.e. pass away), well, then 10 people can show up for your funeral. Who’s idea was that- Moe, Larry, or Curly?
And please explain the nuances of the “no wind instruments” phenomena. Yelling isn’t banned, but singing or blowing an oboe too close to people is. Thank goodness the woodwind-ists of Hawai`i are a mellow lot, or we’d be experiencing a rare reed rebellion, a raucous round-up of obtuse oboists, furious flutists, clamorous clarinetists, belligerent bassoonists, and piqued piccolo players! Hey, ban leaf blowers- we can cut back on yelling, which cuts back airborne particles. We’re beyond improvisation at this point. We’re living in a recurrent “Saturday Night Live” skit. More cowbell!
Think about it…