Yes, with this damndemic, we’re all on edge, feeling threatened, often nervous, uptight, vulnerable as COVID-19 surges. Every night we hear on the news what the death toll is up to. Sounds even higher on CNN.
So much talk of death. We can see the grim reaper in our rear-view mirror, on tattoos, hiding under tables, waving at us in crowded places.
Death’s door is behind us or worse, beside us. Waiting for us to enter!
Life and death have always hung out together . . . alongside us! Without our knowing, they’ve traveled with us, accompanied us to bars, events, on trips and parades, protests and political rallies. They’re inseparable!
Death tags along as life drives home after parties, flies along with us on private jets, goes on cruises, mountain climbs and other adventures, risking the perils of such undertakings as skydiving . . . online dating.
So, you’re LIFE. One day you board a plane. Who’s in the middle seat next to you? Guess who? DEATH! How wonderful. How delightful.
“Do you mind sitting somewhere else, Mr. Death?” Life asks Death.
“No, I’m comfortable right where I am, next to you, Mr. Life. One day we’re going to be ONE! Inseparable.”
“Let’s hope we’re not on a Boeing 737 Max and that there’ll soon be a vaccine so I can tell you to get lost, Mr. Death. Go to hell, Mr. Death.”
“Oh, that will just delay our coming together, Mr. Life, but it’s still early. Still inevitable.”
“Well, may it take a long time as you’re no fun. In fact, you’re a creepy killjoy and I wish you’d drop to where you came from, Deadsville.
“Oh relax, Mr. Life. Take off that stupid mask, snug up to that beautiful blonde beside you, have a couple tequila daiquiri.
“Oh, you’re advising ME how to live now?”
“Yes. And then, Mr. Happy Life, I want you to go in the jolly john, take a snort of cocaine, inhale deeply on that herbal cigarette of yours Get high. Be happy. And we’ll be together sooner. How’d you like that?”
“Being inseparable with you, I’d rather be dead.”