Another Park, Another Sunday

I woke up with that old Doobie Brothers song in my head this morning. In case you're not familiar:

If I were inclined to interpret this, I'd say that's the way life has become for many of us. Some religious-minded people welcome Sunday as their special day to connect with God and their community. For them, being kept away from weekly services has been challenging, but fortunately, a lot of houses of worship are shifting to an online format to accommodate the demand from their respective flocks.

For the rest of us (at least those of us currently working and recent retirees), by Sunday evening, there was always a fear of dread because the next day would start a new week of stress at the office or whatever one called their workplace.

There are many (too many!) Americans furloughed right now, perhaps permanently. The new unemployment claims just got released and it's shocking to see how badly this pandemic has impacted businesses, particularly small ones. And those lucky ones who have jobs they can telecommute to (or is it from?), they're working ungodly hours to make up for the reductions in force their companies are implementing.

When every day feels like Sunday, you'd think you'd have some level of peace of mind. Generally speaking, that's how it is to be retired for many people. You do lose track of what day it is because unless you've structured your life to do so, there is no schedule you absolutely need to follow. Do as little or as much as you want, no one's looking over your shoulder.

I tend to like schedules and live by them and yet I still sometimes have to double-check what day it is. I can only imagine how younger people, especially those trying to work at home with kids, are adjusting.

Yours in waiting,
Michael

Reading in Self-Isolation

Like most writers, I love to read and always have. When I was a kid, Santa or my parents or both would make sure I had stacks of books in lieu of toys, though I got plenty of those, too. Same with Easter, birthdays, and pretty much any other holiday.

I devoured books and almost always could be found with a book in my hand or the latest Hardy Boys mystery bookmarked on my nightstand. A true bibliophile.

Back in the day, Scholastic Book Club (which I note is still around) would have our teachers hand out a catalog every year--maybe before the holidays, I don't remember--and my mom and I would go through the whole thing and I would pick out the ones I wanted.

I didn't get every choice, but I got a lot of them. They would arrive in a big box, though I don't remember whether it came to the school or directly to our home via the post office. Either way, I would be awash in reading material for a few months.

So naturally, this self-isolation is working out well for us readers. On Goodreads.com, I signed up to read fifty books this year. Last year, I exceeded that by twenty-four! I read them mostly by e-reader and in audio format. The latter is perfect for me while I'm doing other mundane tasks that require little or no concentration (housecleaning, working out, food prep, for example).

The thing is I have all the time in the world to read as it is. Officially retired from the 9-to-5 grind for almost seven years, I adjusted easily to my new normal once we were able to move into our new house. That allowed me time for writing and reading to my heart's content...that is when I'm not doing some of my other hobbies.

I'm not bragging--I know the heartache working people have right now. The uncertainty of one's job when you have a family to raise or college loans to pay off sometimes seems overwhelming. I know if I was still working, I'd be sweating out this pandemic for more reasons than running out of toilet paper.

What I'm saying is if you're at home anyway and you're not working, why not pick up a book? I'm not even suggesting reading mine (though that would be nice 😆), but I think reading is good for the brain, if not as an escape, then as another source of knowledge.

Yours in the word,
Michael