I suppose I'm trying not to be trapped by the four walls of my home and the three walls of my heart, during these strange times. The orders which we as a society have received is that we should take shelter within our homes and stay busy in essence; the problem with that rhetoric is I don't feel at home while in my home.
Somewhere my father is rolling eyes and you know what, I'm rolling mine right back at him. There's a weird feeling now, I mean being an adult and all, I find myself asking my parents where they've been and who've they been hanging around. Look, my dad probably still thinks that he can ground me and to be honest, he miiiight be able to if I'm not on my game.
In all seriousness though, this Coronavirus is spreading like wildfire and the elderly are the ones taking the full force of its symptoms. There are some estimates flying around which state that 56% of Californians will be infected by the virus within the span of the next 18 months. The number is almost 80% in places like New York.
I mean, how was this missed, could things have been handled differently, who's to blame? The answers to all of these questions will not be answered any time soon and the alternatives we're being given have their limitations as well.
The last time I was quarantined was back in the winter of 1993 after I caught the chickenpox, in Mendota, CA (don't ask, just know that I knew something was off during our basketball game and it went downhill from there). "Dad, I feel like someone scratched me on my stomach... Wait why are there ten more scratches on my stomach".
This one fateful night not only knocked me out of playing basketball for two and a half weeks, it also nearly cost our team a chance at going to the playoffs. The one friend who braved coming to visit me at home, looked at me and said, "You have ten bumps on you, you're lucky, I don't know why you're even being quarantined".
You see that single visit caused me to lobby for my freedom, lobby for my place in the classroom, away from the Nintendo, cereal, and warm blankets; I wanted my freedom like Cinque in Amistad. The one glaring problem I had was that I was sick, infectious, and you guessed it... I was under the watchful eyes of a group of Africans who stated I had to remain QUARANTINED.
Fast forward some twenty seven years almost, I'm again faced with this word, the only benefit being that I'm not sick or in the midst of something truly important, like setting the single season basketball scoring record at school.
This go-round, my thoughts are what are trapped in many a way, I'm wondering what the next moves are. Do I continue to drive or do I stop, kneel, and see where my eyes and heart take me.
IF you look close enough, you'll see the light, you'll see the reflection of something truly beautiful; it's before us, not behind us. It's funny how we can be trapped but still free, I need to remember this lesson.
(Note to self, always make sure the train isn't approaching, behind you, smh)