While sitting in my garden, enjoying watching Ali bent over working on some of the flowerbeds, I was surprised to see Sylvester (my mechanic) arrive and use my rear entrance (phrasing) sitting astride his enormous chopper.
He’s spent much of his time polishing up his chopper recently, but then haven’t we all? This lockdown can be a little tedious, can’t it? Sylvester does enjoy riding his Harley and keeping it pristine.
Maintaining social distancing he joined me in the garden and we sat and talked. He looked quite agitated. It takes a lot to phase Sylvester. Naturally, in my role as both friend and counselor I felt I should help.
“It’s Amanda. What am I supposed to do about her?”
“Euthanasia?” I asked helpfully, adjusting the way my sun dress hung from my shoulders.
“Please,” he insisted, “try to be helpful!”
“What seems to be the problem, Sylvester?” I asked.
“Well, I asked her if she’d like to come for a ride on my chopper,” continued Sylvester.
“But Sylvester, Amanda is with Marjory now,” I said.
“I know. But sometimes I like to take people on my bike. It’s fun.”
“Well,” I said, “I suppose it’s fairly harmless. Even though I understand you’ve ‘checked her fluids’ on more than one occasion.”
“It’s not that. She refuses to wear a mask!”
“That doesn’t sound very smart,” I replied. “Does she know you have an aging mother?”
“Yes. But she thinks they’re silly,” he said looking downcast.
“And would she feel it was silly if your mother died of COVID-19?”
“She said it’s some liberal nonsense and refuses to wear it. She’s not giving way.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it? You’d think with her looks the mask was a good way to go,” I pointed out in surprise. “It’s simple though, Sylvester. She doesn’t get a ride on your bike if she’s not going to think about how she affects others.”
“I guess…” replied Sylvester. “I just wish she wouldn’t be so obstinate.”
“Don’t worry, Sylvester. It’s simple. You wouldn’t reward someone that demonstrates so little care for your own mother, would you? Of course you wouldn’t. And that’s what this is. It’s not about being silly or anyone’s political opinion. It’s about the health of people you love. If you really want to play roulette with that…”
“No. You’re right, Fiona,” he conceded.
I poured some freshly squeezed lemonade and Sylvester, Ali and I sat in the warm spring sunshine enjoying our space. Even in this challenging time, good friends can enjoy a lovely evening together with care. All it requires is a little self discipline. As explorers in the gender landscape we, of all people, should understand that..
I have to say that regardless of whether one thinks wearing a mask is healthy (it is) or not, if I go to a club that asks me to wear formal wear, I obey those rules if I want to get in. It’s respectful to accommodate others.
Auntie Kittie tells me her church insists that without a shirt and shoes, you are not welcome to their services. That doesn’t seem entirely unreasonable. Although, personally I think I’d rather hang out with the hippie Christians than the blue haired seniors that I’ve seen trying to recruit Auntie Kittie to join their ranks.
Seeing Auntie with her rather impressive chest bared barreling up the aisle to deliver the lesson is a vision that is likely to stay with the average churchgoer for some time. I’m sure that if she, Mistress Meg and (when she finally returns to Canada) Katia were to attend a service or two topless church attendance would shoot up rapidly. Although in at least two out of three of those cases I suspect they’d be vaporised by thunderbolts as they entered the church.
You can see some delightful ideas for masks on my Pinterest. Be sure to follow me, if you use that platform. I find it an excellent resource.
Have a lovely and safe weekend. Just remember your health and the health of those you love is more important than someone else’s profits. Make your choices based on your own sense of safety, not recommendations from people who may not have your best interests in mind. And don’t forget, the buffoon in the White House will do anything he can to blame everyone else. In the end, we all know where the buck stops however much he tries to deflect attention.