Lockdown Games (for when you’re really bored)

I got out a glass, left the cupboard door ajar, and poured some milk. Mom jumped up, closed the cupboard and sat down. I got a plate, left the door open again, got a knife, didn't shut the door. Mom’s eyes bugged out. How long could she last? One, two, three . . . She death-gripped her coffee. My toast popped; I brought my plate to the table, leaving the bread out. Four, five . . . Mom's eyes twitched. Six, seven . . . I left crumbs in the butter. Gurgling came from her throat. Eight . . . Oops! Butter dolloped onto the table. Nine . . .

Inspired by Who will help me.

Who will help me.

Just before COVID, I lost my computer to causes unknown. 

     True to form, I was pretty quick buying a replacement, only to let it languish downstairs . . . then the world ended. And why bother at all when any old computer will get you doom-scrolling through Twitter all day? . . . until that one died too, in October, and I moved to my iPhone fulltime.

     Two more months of that, and the fever broke, finally. I unboxed my new-year-old iMac, and plugged it all in. It wasn’t like I’d come to my senses, I just really wanted to download the new Doctor Who special. 

With apologies to Laurie for following up on the loss of her dear Starmen with a story of my inconsequential computer problems.

Starmen

This year we lost our wonderful friend Mike. And our talented pal Tom just two years before that. I often think about the fun times we had in grad school with the one, and in our fledgling adult lives with the other. For some reason, this cautionary tale on the precious impermanence of life and joy always leads me to David Bowie. At one particular-spectacular moment in time Mike, Tom, my parents, my first dog, Prince AND Bowie were all living their lives. A sort of Kuiack-Purvis-Laurette-Gerard-Brillo-Prince-Bowie Confluence. They were all alive. Like me. And most of them were happy.

Inspired by Dying. Photo by Mary Ellen Kelm.