By David Glenn Cox
Here we are in day whatever of the lockdown. Thirty days in the hole by myself with only a shaggy cat to keep me company. So, I’m floating the idea of cancelling 2020 altogether. It’s April 13, 2020, and its snowing in Denver for the second day in a row. I read this weather report about E5 tornadoes hitting Mississippi yesterday. Normally a tornado only touches down for just a few minutes with a swath a hundred yards wide. The first tornado was a mile wide on the ground and stayed on the ground for over an hour. The second tornado, yes, this 2020. The second tornado was like a twin following the same path as its brother. These aren’t your Aunty Em tornadoes. These are super storms. Screw you 2020!
A new strain of locust has emerged to plague Africa. Larger and hungrier the new strain is only offered in the 2020 variety.
Meatpackers in Nebraska have shut down their packing houses due to the pandemic. They warn, the food supply is being pushed to the brink. Mile long lines at the food banks, 2020 can just get the hell away from me. I don’t want to talk; we’re done!
What’s going on here? I’m minding my own business despoiling the world living my own version of “Falling Down” when suddenly, Rod Serling is doing a monologue from my living room! Runs on toilet paper empty store shelves this isn’t just about rock stars dying in bunches anymore, this is fucked up.
Living inside an apocalyptic thriller less the superheroes. Soylent Green is made of people! So, we have our pandemic and our economic crisis, our food crisis, our weather crisis and our political crisis. On top of everything else, we have to deal with Trumpzilla. An eighty-foot-tall man child monster. The repository of the emotionally scarred memories of a drug addled upper class rich kid. Ritchie Rich on crack.
I remember the good old days not so long ago when we had to worry school shootings and climate change. Ah, climate change, something bad was going to happen to us years from now. I’m down to my last roll of toilet paper, and the store shelves are empty. The immediacy and in your face nature of 2020! Record low gas prices and no where to go. There’s never been a better time to buy a car until you remember what year it is! Or a better time to buy a house as prices are falling! Mortgage rates at record lows! Prices falling so much, a year from now the price could be even lower. Catch that falling knife. Thanks a bunch 2020!
If your plan was to retire this year, well…when scouting for the appropriate bridge to live under it’s important to locate the necessary amenities. Falling Stock prices will return to their former levels in a few years. What’s wrong with retiring in 2025? I mean, other than its five years from now.
Why are we having this yard sale of calamity? Emptying the garage of every misfortune available and stacking it in the front yard! Affecting everyone of us differently and individually. We all experience this together separately. The seventh game of the world series and Yankee Stadium is empty except for you!
Worried about a job, an income, a home, a wife, a kid and an overstuffed housecat. And not a damn thing you can do about. Come see Disney’s epic and most frightening thrill ride ever! You’ll recoil in horror, laugh until your sides split and cry your eyes out. Coming soon, “The 2020 Experience!”
I want to go home; I want Tara to be the way it was before the war. As a year 2020 sucks. As the threshold of a new decade 2020 has damned the nine years to follow. History will look back with a knowing nod whenever 2020 is mentioned. He was going to retire in 2020. “Oh.”
He opened a restaurant in 2020. “Oh.”
One date to say it all, one date that needs no further explanation.
So, how do we go about cancelling a year and moving on to the next one? My suggestion is first we try to get it to stop snowing in Denver for the second day in a row in April! Then we get Amazon to send everyone in the country a new calendar and May 1st will be May 1st, 2021! Or maybe we just start over May 1st of the year 100 or year one. It’s not likely you’d get confused. Is that the modern year 12 you’re are referring to or the Neolithic year 12?
The medical experts are now are saying it might be safe to come out in May. Almost half of 2020 gone and nothing to show for it but a bad time. If I survive to New Years Eve, I’m going to throw this year out on its ass! If I survive, that’s a 2020 thing to say. You didn’t say that in 2019. People would think you were nuts talking like that in 2019. But of course, this is 2020 and there’s no one around to here anything you say.