Crisis | The Real Reality Show Blog

“I may not be there yet but I’m closer than I was yesterday.” I don’t know who said that. I don’t know if anybody actually said it or if it has come to us like “Play it again, Sam,” a famous quote that was never said in the first place. But if nobody else ever said it I just did and I am closer, as we all are.

I’m closer to moving. Recent posts have alluded to the upheaval I’ve been going through. No offense to anybody out there whose lives have been interrupted at the hands of a pandemic virus, racial inequities, civil unrest, or a variety of other happening and pending disasters, but I haven’t personally been thus up heaved. My tribulations are from not quite having a home while my life and possessions are split between two residences. Yeah I know, first world problem. Sorry.

But … just because I’ve been a nervous and physical wreck doing a semi do it yourself move doesn’t mean I’ve been ignoring the pandemonia happening around me. Naturally I have a few words to say about it. First and foremost, somebody better write to the dictionary people and suggest they pay more respect to pandemonium’s plurality. Most do not even bother to include it. In their defense it isn’t the norm for more than one pandemonium to occur concurrently but here we are. And if it seems I am making light of the crises (another plural we need to resurrect), it is because the world is treating them lightly.

For example, let’s consider the continuing saga of COVID, or As the Virus Turns. And turning it is – turning the world on its head. For anybody who thinks the worst is over, I’m talking to you Florida, record numbers of new cases are being reported, I’m talking to you Florida! And others. Around the world record numbers of new cases are breaking out, in fact, this weekend was the largest increase in cases worldwide. Really.

As if rampant disease and death isn’t enough we have protests (peaceful), riots (not so peaceful), weird apologies (Columbus Ohio wants to change its name to Flavortown?), and still no stable supply of soap on store shelves (what would Granny Clampett make of that? Lye soap naturally!).

Now, for my big problem, Moving. Monday (that’s today!) I am out of my current residence mostly because I’ve run out of places to put me. It has been overtaken with boxes! (Remember this 👇)

But I’m not in my new residence with the requisite pieces to maintain this diversion, specifically internet access, until Wednesday. Therefore, you probably shouldn’t expect anything from me Thursday (like you haven’t been anyway) and if Comcast is as efficient with getting things set up and started on Wednesday like I know they will be, you might be best not expecting anything from me next Monday either. (Sigh) But I closer and closer is as closer does and eventually I’ll get to do it again.

Sorry if I was a little ranty today. First world problems get me bitchy.

A week ago I was writing about a restaurant with a sign up that said “Patio Open.” This week, that patio is covered with snow. There are times I truly hate February. But I have my milk, bread, and toilet paper so I know I’m set for the rest of the month.

I’m sure there are super-markets across the country, no, across the world that are overrun with mad shoppers a flake short of looters hoarding all the milk, bread, and toilet paper at the first hint of a storm. But here we can actually walk that particular cat back to a real crisis – sort of.

It was in 1950, the day after Thanksgiving. The forecast was dire, 12 inches of snow over the next 24 hours. The weathermen (remember, 1950, no weatherwomen then) were wrong. Over three feet fell over those 24 hours. Over the next few days the locals dealt with it. The snow came, emergency services served, and people existed on their Thanksgiving leftovers.

The weekend came and went and so did the leftovers. Probably because of those leftovers, the city grocers had fairly well stocked shelves come Monday. So well stocked they were that one of the local papers headlined how well things were going with “City’s Food Supply Is in Good Shape.” The story was slugged “There Is Plenty for Everybody…” That was a relief, but rather short-lived. The article’s second sentence began, “Milk was the one shortage that has hit all sections…” The sentences that followed noted specific abundances, praised workers who showed up, and in general commented positively on how there is still plenty of food for everybody. Except for that milk thing. Oh, and bread which had been “doled out in some stores.” Remember, 1950. World War II rationing wasn’t that long ago. “Doled out” did not conjure up images of “plenty for everybody.”

Then to make matters worse the story continued that heads of families should buy “only what you need on a day-to-day schedule in order to have enough of everything to go around.” That doesn’t sound like “plenty for everybody” at all. No sir, not at all. No milk, no bread and here are families who just spent a weekend of every meal that included leftover turkey gravy. And those were some big families (remember, 1950, baby boomers). If they needed enough of anything to go around it was going to be toilet paper. And it was going to be soon!

Ever since then, no matter what the forecast, if there was any snow in it then as God as our witness we will NEVER run out of milk, bread, or toilet paper! And that’s why today when I stopped in the bakery for a loaf of bread all that was left were a few mini-Italians and a couple donuts. The little cooler had no milk and they don’t even sell toilet paper. And yes, yesterday’s forecast called for 1 to 3 inches by tomorrow.

Fortunately I really don’t drink much milk. I myself am a mini-Italian so I was quite satisfied with the available bread. Since the inception of places like Sam’s and Cosco I can open my own toilet paper franchise.

The donuts? They were a plus. I figure you can never have too much of anything with sprinkles, and if I didn’t buy them somebody else would.

I can hardly wait for the next snowfall.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?