By Buddy Early, May 2020 Issue.

As I am writing this, I have been quarantined in my apartment due to the

Coronavirus pandemic for, oh, I guess about six months. Actually it’s been 13

days. Either way I’m going to need someone to tell me if I’ve lost weight or

gained weight when we are done with this. I can’t tell.

Speaking of tangents, it’s impossible at

this time to tell when we might be done with this, thanks to young

people who think you can have as many as you want over to a house party as long

as you know them. (Coronavirus only spreads amongst strangers, apparently.) If

you ask me, “social distancing” is a phrase that was never specific enough, and

it has led to people interpreting it in some peculiar ways. Words that should

have been used instead were quarantine, isolation, and stay the fuck home.

One thing I know is that, despite not

knowing when, we will get through this. But who knows what the world

will be like when we emerge from quarantining, or even by the time you are

reading these words. Maybe everything will be business as usual. Maybe we will

be a better society. Maybe we surface into a world greater than anything we’ve

ever known before? Perhaps, miraculously, we will have flying cars, pills that

taste like an entire meal, and robots that perform sex acts. (“Alexa: give me a

hand job.”) That would be cool, huh?

Or maybe we will have entered the

apocalypse we’ve all been preparing for. Sure, I’ve watched too much of The

Walking Dead and numerous end-of-the-world films — so many that I could

give a Top 10 list — so my imagination runs wild at the slightest suggestion of

“everything is different from now on.”

Maybe this column is the first of several

that will serve to educate the next civilization about what life was like.

Maybe it’s my charge to help them understand the former Earth. Maybe I’m the

last chance we have to impart wisdom and knowledge to those who come after us.

If that is the case then they are in big

trouble. They’d be better off learning about B.C. (Before Corona) from Chrissy

Teigen or maybe or one of those TV judges. They all seem pretty smart.

Nonetheless, if it is up to me, I suppose

I’m not one to shirk my responsibilities. My words to the next civilization,

however, would be brief. The list of things I will not tell them about

is much longer than the list of things I will tell them:

I will not tell them about The Bible, or about religion at all.

I will not tell them about Capitalism, borders, or patriotism.

I will not tell them about how two men sitting upright in bed together

on thirtysomething was a milestone, and how it led to countless

advertisers pulling their commercials.

I will not tell them that Crash beat Brokeback Mountain and

Munich in a Best Picture race.

I will not tell them about cancel culture, NASCAR, or podcasts.

Still, there are a few things I will tell them:

I will tell them about Law & Order, but not about Law

& Order: Criminal Intent.

I will tell them about rediscovering Little Debbie products in the

waning days of the pandemic.

So, if you’re keeping track: I will tell

them about

Law & Order

and Little Debbies. Yep, that’s all.

But that’s all stinkin’ thinkin’ — as Al

Franken would say. Maybe it’s the Little Debbies Zebra Cakes talking, but

despite my imagination running amok I still choose to think we come out of this

as a better society. Not just the same, but better.

I am hopeful that when things return to

normal, they won’t be … well, normal. We will transform into a nation that is

more kind, more patient, more selfless and understanding. We will achieve

perspective and appreciate cultures, leading to less racism, sexism and

homophobia. We will come to an agreement that people are worth more than $7.25

an hour and nobody needs, or deserves, a billion dollars. We will be ashamed

that it took a crisis like this to accept that healthcare is a right, not a

privilege.

This utopia sure seems like pie-in-the-sky given our B.C. point of view.  But in A.C., maybe we get smart.