OK, so we have a pandemic with over 100,000 deaths in this country, a collapsed economy with millions out of work, police murdering Black people on television and a president with “authoritarian tendencies” (code words for hankering to be a fascist dictator).
What else could happen? What’s left?
The oceans could rise and flood coastal areas. Rhinos could be dying out because some folks think their horns will enhance their masculine prowess. Elephants could disappear because people have an insatiable need for carved ivory. The Amazon could be destroyed so gold-diggers can dig for gold leading to rising temperatures world-wide. Toilet paper could become scarce. Or the police could start beating up old people.
Oh yeah, all that is already happening. But what hasn’t happened yet?
An asteroid could crash into the earth and cause total extinction of mankind along with the cancellation of at least one season of daytime television and drastic interference with cellphone operation.
Aliens could invade from another solar system, colonize the planet, and require all earthlings to paint their skin orange.
Perhaps the thong could rip out from a favorite pair of Flip-flops. The damage is irreparable. There goes $12.99 down the drain.
Perhaps your mother-in-law could move in, requiring extensive research into mother-in-law jokes.
You could wake up one morning and find that your car has a flat tire. And you haven’t driven it anywhere in two months.
You might find yourself unfriended by your best friend over political differences. Now you have no friends. (Oh yeah, that already happened.)
Perhaps your neighbor’s dog might once again start barking at 1 a.m. When it stops at 3 a.m., a mighty yowling might begin as cats engage in a fierce territorial battle over rights to the steps in front of your house.
Worse than that, your kitchen might be invaded by ants (again).
And even worse, a skunk might establish residence under your deck, and no animal control service is willing to remove the creature.
Even though you haven’t shopped in months, you discover that the owners of all your favorite big box stores are NRA-supporting, homophobic major donors to the Republican party. Where can you go now for your essential items like balloons, ribbons, screws, and cheapo batteries?
Perhaps you left a library book out in the rain. Now you dread the moment (any year now) when the public libraries re-open and you are afraid that your library card might be revoked as punishment for showing insufficient respect for books.
Speaking of wet, you could find that for the fifth day in a row, the newspaper has arrived soaked. And it hadn’t even rained in a week.
You could discover that deer have eaten an entire rosebush just as it was about to bloom.
You might find that you have suddenly developed an allergy to Oreos, a unique and untreatable condition never before seen in the history of medical science. The symptoms are best not discussed in public.
So you’re off cookies, but you still have coffee. But what if your coffee spilled onto your laptop destroying a lifetime of irreplaceable pictures recording the growth of your favorite stand of poison ivy?
You might wake up and realize that you forgot to put out your garbage in time for pick-up. You are now stuck for another week with a bin full of dirty diapers and the temperature is in the 90s.
And, finally, the coup de grace, the ultimate in agony and misfortune, you stub your toe on the kitchen table and hop around the house shrieking for over half an hour.
Even though it seems that the above unbearable possibilities might be just ahead, do keep a sense of proportion. There is still a pandemic, still economic collapse, still police brutality, and still the imminent threat of a madman destroying the American democracy.
Forget about your toe. When will this ghastly confluence stop?