You’ve Got A Plastic Spoon…Part V



The quarantine opposition is ready for a confrontation. Hoping to further obfuscate and downplay the initial failures of the viral immunization trials reported on Friday of Labor Day weekend, the administration sought to organize a parade on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Protestors and supporters began to clash around the country. The decimated ranks of the CDC and DHS couldn’t defend against the administration?s innuendo that the vaccines were too weak, on purpose, to provide immunity. Dr. Fauci arrived at Woods Hole on Cape Cod to begin his research on Horseshoe crabs? blood, one of several ingredients in the next test of five vaccines simultaneously.

You jam the plastic spoon into the frozen ice cream from Ziggy’s, a Seacoast staple with four locations, now one.

Seriously, what did you think would happen?

I studied physics too. Laws of thermodynamics; gravity, frozen ice cream and plastic spoons. Einstein’s predictions about frozen ice cream were overshadowed by his black hole theory. It would be over 100 years before Edie yelled at Brenda, “I broke my f’ing spoon on the stupid ice cream.”

“What did you think would happen?”

Brenda prides herself on being an Air Force brat. Seven homes in 15 years and then Portsmouth NH, heaven on earth, the back gate at Pease, roller skates under the summer street lights, eau d’jet fuel.

“We’ll never move again,” the colonel promises.

She doesn’t.

Edie’s father works at the Navy Base after 22 years and starting as an enlisted man and finishing as Chief of the boats/submarines in the Pacific. He was legendary before he arrived and treated as a god thereafter.

Not so for Edie. Sons of gods often don’t fare well in their fathers’ wake.

He’s laid off from the shipyard. Not even his father could save him. Sorry: would save him.

Brenda’s nursing instructors at Great Bay community college gave her 5/5 and 10/10 and wished they had more students like her. They imagined Obstetrics for her. She saw emergency surgery, especially gun shot wounds. She has a kayak tattoo on her instep and the boat moves as she flexes her foot.

The other pandemic is a psychological/ sociological one, Who will survive individually, as a person, parent, a child, all of the above? And in many cases, all at the same time.

Indulge me, briefly: the graph in my head is labeled “frequency, intensity and duration.” Left and right axes and an added dimension and there you have it…how often for how crazy and for how long can you put up with whatever?

Billy Joel sings, “and Brenda and Eddie would always know how to survive.”