Here’s the thing with Henry
No one ever called him Hank
I woke up one morning a couple of weeks ago and I couldn’t remember what day it was. It wasn’t as if I’d lost a whole week or month…it was just…was it Tuesday or Wednesday? Didn’t take long to figure it out with all of the personal technology around here…smart phones and I-pads, and lap tops…even my watch knows what day it is. Still, it was a little disturbing. I’ve reached beyond the age where the accumulated abuses to my body and brain ought to have induced a significant amount of forgetfulness…and I’ll admit that I have lost the occasional name or date along the way but usually they haven’t gone completely missing…just wandered into a darker corner of my mind. When it happens it gives me a little twinge…like a sharp pain in the chest will send a chill into the pit of my stomach. (usually a pulled muscle) .
It dawned on me that Tuesday and Wednesday had come to look pretty much alike. This is partly because of Covid fatigue. (I’d blame it on global warming if I could…it deserves all the blame it can get). And retirement of course. I’ve been retired long enough to be used to it but it turns out that there’s a downside to the freedom that comes from not having to wake up every day and run off to work. There is plenty to do and plenty that needs to be done but the deadline urgency just isn’t as intense as it once was. With the restrictions of Covid…social distancing, closed businesses, no lunches with friends, no house dinner parties, and for a while, since we’re in that vulnerable age group, we were supposed to put ourselves in a modified house arrest. It’s serious shit, this Covid. Eventually fatigue sets in and we all begin to look for the boundaries of fear. Do I have to wear a mask all the time outside? can I ride my bike without a mask? can I have a conversation in the street without one if I stay six feet away? Can I go shopping? Turns out that a lot of things are possible while still maintaining a sensible approach. There is no doubt though that our life-styles and daily lives have changed. for me one of those changes is that Tuesday is starting to look a lot like Wednesday.
That day a couple of weeks ago I had nothing urgent to do and I sat down at my drawing board and met Henry. I happens that way some times. I start drawing with no idea and here comes somebody or something I wasn’t expecting. And as he revealed himself I kinda got to know him. He seemed to be the sort of uncomplicated guy I might have known when I was a kid growing up down south. Of course they’re never all that uncomplicated…but back in the day it seemed like a less dismal world with far fewer billionaires and far fewer billionaire megalomaniacs sitting next to the proverbial red button (or whatever colour the end of the world is). And yet Henry’s face contained a sadness and maybe disappointment maybe even defeat . Like me he sees the great problems facing us and our planet and he doesn’t have the answers but like me he hoped that we could maybe work together to try. And all he sees are powerful people creating and exploiting divisiveness and fear, making shit worse.
Looking at Henry, I could see that he just wasn’t the kind of fellow that people would want work together with these days. When you consider that there aren’t many people who want to work together at all …yep, he’d be pretty far down the list. Not that they’re any better than old Henry, they’d say…but he just doesn’t look like he has the skills .
They’re wrong though…it wasn’t Henry’s skills or lack of skills that got us into the mess we’re in…and it’s not some twitter troll in Washington who will get us out.
We’re learning a lot of new things from this pandemic about ourselves and the way we live. Tuesday is still Tuesday and it’s not Wednesday but the difference is maybe not as important as it was a year ago. I’m glad I met Henry and as I get to know him a little better…I think if he turns up on a Zoom call or Skype…I might just listen to what he has to say.
Today is Tuesday, by the way.
Chagal4's Blog 