All Hail Homer 2020

Last night I was alone after a Chinese take-out Christmas diiner with my young comrades downstairs.

After the dumpling feast I went outside to get some air.

The Brooklyn Avenue was deserted by everyone in fear of Covid. I had had the virus in March right after New York City had been shut down for the duration. I wasn't safe. No one was, but I felt like going somewhere, yet I had no destination, until a B54 approached the corner and I realized I had a refuge in times of the apocalypse like the lead character from SHAUN OF THE DEAD.

"The Winchester."

Fifteen minutes later I walked through the door of the 169 bar. I was only non-worker in the bar. My two friends working the bar greeted me with a smile.

"What's so funny?"

They pointed to the TV.

"THE SIMPSONS. 1994."

"Damn."

One of them served me a Gin-Ginger Ale.

We watched Homer. We laughed. We felt human.

Homer had saved my life during the baby brother's death of AIDS in 1995 and he saved the night for the three of us in 2020.

Michael Charles Smith loved Homer too.

He made us all laugh and Bart too.

All Hail The Simpsons, because laughter is the only cure for sorrow.

Rudi Guiliani Positive For Madness

FTrump announced from the White House that Rudi Guiliani, his chief legal counsel, has tested positive for Covid-19. The former NYC mayor has been taken to a hospital, taking himself out of the fight to steal the 2020 Presidential election by accusing major-scale fraud by the Democrats. Trump tweetered Guiiliani, "“Get better soon Rudy, we will carry on!!!”

Trump declared in October that he had contracted the virus, but have a hunch that Guiliani fakes his infection and is taking the easy way out of the billionaire's largely unsuccessful fight against the voting process., but he has been getting $20,000 a day to act as a madman and that is a lot of money for someone who is looking at prison time should Trump not pardon him.

In 2001 Guiliani was chosen as Time's MAN OF THE YEAR for his efforts after 9/11. In truth he did very little and has always been on the wrong side of the people whether it was declaring twenty-thousand Haitians not to be political refugees from Baby Doc Duvalier's deadly Ton Ton Macoute death gangs or closing the porno parlors and theaters in Times Square or arresting scores of people without any proof.

And up to now he brown-nosed Trump.

A madman.

An Asshole.

A future felon.

We all need a break from him.

Piss Off.

What Will Be Tomorrow - Kilimanjaro

The 2020 Kili Initiative team left Kibo Hut at midnight. I wished them well on the final stage of the climb. The falling snow turned to sleet. My brother Ma'we said, "You should come, my brother."

"I know." I had failed to summit in 2019. My right ankle was weak and my thin gloves guaranteed little protection from the cold. "Maybe next year. See you tomorrow."

I returned to my bunk bed and snaked into my sleeping bag.

Warmth.

Darkness.

Quiet.

Dawn arrived early and I tramped across the ice-encrusted dirt to the WC.

The sun nimbused the eastern horizon and I turned my head to Kilimanjaro. The team had to close to the summit. I squinted, but failed to spot them on the trail. I blew on my bare hands and returned to bed. My old body took its time getting warm. I reached over to my cell phone and called my family in Thailand. Despite the weak connection I was able to say I love you and hear my son Fenway shouted, "Lak Pah."

My phone still showed bars and I tapped in www.theguardian.com

Joe Biden had beaten Bernie Sanders in Iowa, Britain was leaving the EEU, China's pollution levels had dropped during the spread of Coruna Virus, and the headline was UK FEARS OF UNDETECTED CASES GROW AS 13 MORE TEST POSITIVE.

The park ranger approached with a glance at the rim. We knew each other for two years. He was a LA Lakers fan. He pointed to my phone and then the Maasai Plains.

"What do you think will happen?"

"I don't know, but it will not be good."

The guard pointed to a line of climbers.

"Your friends are at the top."

"I'll be in Marangu this evening."

"We'll drink beer together at the Big Tree."

The two of us exchanged a knowing smile, for whatever awaited on the plains coming today or tomorrow was the future and we were happy enough to know a cold beer might save not so much our lives, especially if tomorrow was not today.

Bahati njema.

Mustard Plaster - Covid 19

Aside from Europeans singing from their balconies, one of the worst phenomenas of the Covid 19 pandemic has been the misinformation about how to treat the virus on the Internet.

Suddenly everyone thinks they went to Harvard Medical School.

Holding your breath for ten seconds.

It's just a hoax.

Malaria pills stop the virus.

And the classically cold-hearted GOP approach, "People die all the time, why kill the economy?

As previously stated I am in the process of recovering for a mild bout of C-19.

Three years ago my lungs were impaired with a serious infection.

One night I expelled about two liters of blood into a bathtub.

It was midnight.

I should gone gone to the hospital, but realized an infection would put me in the grave and I returned to bed, thinking, If I wake in the morning, so be it.

I rose with the dawn and said, "Fuck it."

Three months later I was 90%.

Of course if my mother had been alive, she would have slathered a mustard plaster on my chest and stuff Vicks-Vapo-Rub up my nose.

Her ministrations save all my brothers and sisters.

Until AIDS.

Reagan fucked that same as Trump is fucking this, but his approval rate has improved 3% in the last week with the promise of $1000 to every adult American. The rest of the money is going to the banks and corporations.

$4 trillion or $100,000 per citizens.

Open your eyes people.

Loss Of Smell and Taste Symptoms - Covid 19

Your sense of smell is closely tied to your sense of taste. The human nose has 10cm squared, while dogs possess 170cm squared.

Back in the 20th Century Doctor Joyce Brothers theorized that human survival depended more on our smelling bad and tasting worse than intelligence, but not all of us smell the same.

I've traveled on the Mumbai Night Express without a whiff of olfactory discomfort and sat in French taxi wondering if the driver was a dead person.