Preparing for May Day
Like many ignorant Americans, I was troubled when Generalissimo Trump declared “total authority” in the pandemic crisis and commanded our governors to reopen the nation by May 1.
Too soon! What about how the highly contagious COVID-19 and patriotic COVID-19 deniers continue to spread illness and death to new places and people? And forgive my insolence, what about the Constitution?
To confess on a personal note, I’m also worried: Suddenly I have less than two weeks to stop quarantining and return to normal life? Too soon!
Yes, I know: By selecting May Day, Jefe de Estado Trump was just being ironical to trigger the libs, for it pleases his base. He knew:
1. “Mayday” is the universal signal of distress and life-threatening emergencies. Which the coronacrisis continues to be with “devastating levels of pain and grief,” as the New York governor said mutinously to decorated Five-Star Admiral and Chief of Naval Operations Trump.
2. As my deep internet research and sources confirm, “May Day is a public holiday usually celebrated on 1 May,” according to Wikipedia. “It is an ancient festival of Spring and a current traditional spring holiday in many European cultures. Dances, singing, and cake are usually part of the festivities.”
Not to question El Supremo Trump, but I, for one, am not ready to sing and dance.
Not in public, ever. Only in my viral YouTube home videos performing hilarious quarantining reinterpretations of R.E.M.’s “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine),” “Stand (In the Place Where You Live),” and “Everybody Hurts.”
Cake is a different story. (Not the band; the actual baked good.) Cake is especially tasty and essential during quarantining pandemics. I’m more than primed for May Day cake. Make mine red velvet.
Yet as I’ve devolved into full-on Fred Flintstone — unshaven, barefoot, in the same tattered animal-print outfit every day, randomly blurting “yabba dabba doo”— the May 1 return to normalcy is stress-making.
In fealty to Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of America Trump, however, I’d better get started on my post-pandemic reentry.
My extensive Google Keep checklist leads with:
1. Reacquaint with personal care professionals
If they’re still in business. While respecting that even pre-pandemic, I always looked like I needed a haircut 20 minutes after a haircut. It’s my weird hair.
Post-pandemic, I’ll miss how formerly polished GQ “Men of the Year” gents like Clooney rocked the sexy Ted Kaczynski/Unabomber at his most cabin-feverish and made the internet “thirsty.”
When this pandemic is over, barbers, stylists, colorists, mani-pedi salonists, swimsuit-area tonsorial sculptors and other body managers will have their long-overdue retribution for years of suffering our aging, decaying, desiccating, hirsute-ly sprouting bodies, and most of all, serving as resentful co-conspirators in our tragic denial.
2. Ease off the cake
Also, the booze. Going cold turkey is easy if we’re talking about not eating cold turkey, which can be dry and flavorless.
It’s harder when one’s pandemic go-to breakfast has been “Irish Coffee Cake” (one part cake, five parts Bushmills).
3. Get back to work
Respond within two days to “urgent” emails received at 2 am. Produce spreadsheets and whatever gibberish that’s urgently needed/not needed yesterday.
Go to in-person meetings and dress for success squeezing into compression jeans and Bonobos slim-fit dress shirts for the Millennial Business Cool. Ask colleagues, “Hey, sorry, do we need to use video conferencing anymore? I mean, guys, we’re all in the same room together. Bob, you’re sitting right next to me.”
As you die faster, clear calendar for organizational productivity meetings, including all-day blue-sky ideation whiteboard sessions where stupid ideas aren’t, followed by “Way of Working” off-sites to positively promulgate impactive impacting for efficiency strategies enhanced by disciplined agile collaborative transformation.
Also revive Mad Lib word salad buzzword bingo skills and condescending chortling like you’re Dilbert or John Krasinski in “The Office” and superior to your idiot colleagues and definitely your boss.
4. Renew social skills
Such as walking up to friends and saying “Hey, nice to see you!” and shaking hands. In the flesh. Without worry about Latex glove allergies. Or when greeting new or old colleagues or LinkedIn connections, not knowing whether to shake hands or lightly business hug, knowing that going in wrong is always awkward.
5. Reject science
I quarantined for nothing — Covid-19 deaths are falling short of the exaggerated liberal Deep State scientist claims meant to re-impeach El Comandante Trump. And don’t tell me quarantining is why the Covid-19 deaths are falling short.
From now on, for me, no more internists, dentists, dermatologists or God forbid, oncologists or cardiologists trying to save my health and life. Don’t get me started on “epidemiologists” like “Doctor” Tony Fauci.
El Supremo Trump was right all along about the Covid. He knows more than the doctors. That’s why doctors keep asking, “how do you know so much about this?” Duh! It’s because of his natural ability.
So when His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Trump says suffering dry cough, splitting headaches, 105 temps, gasping for breath, fever dreams, and family and friends and selves who sicken and die from the “Chinese/Wuhan Flu” is our duty to save America like we did in WWII, who am I to argue?
Forgive me, I just wish Dr. El Caudillo de America Trump, M.D., wasn’t too backed up to see me, and also if he could take my insurance.
6. Be for what’s happening
Trust our Dear Leader and his official state media that America beat the pandemic. Mission Accomplished. I just need to take my chloroquine and get back to work restoring the economy before November.
Unless the 2020 elections are postponed until further notice because voting in person or by mail will be fraudulent by failing to reelect our Dear Leader. Nobody wants that, he declared.
Jeffrey Denny is a Washington writer.