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To Perseverate Or Not To Perseverate, That Is The Question

Now that Trump is almost gone and he is almost nothing more than a puss-filled memory, I am so relieved that I don’t have to perseverate over that evil, self-serving creature, I don’t have to allow him to invade every crevice of my waking or unwaking mind, remove every atom of life-sustaining oxygen in the room to leave me suffocating and pleading for air, begging for life.

Thanks God that’s almost over although I understand he has been urging his circle of followers who live primarily in Idaho and rural Pennsylvania to crawl out from under the damp, dirty rocks they call home and descend and demonstrate in Washington because the election was totally fixed even though every lawsuit to that effect has failed and his followers include bastards, beasts, bleeders, blighters, boors, bounders, buggers, buzzards, cads, chuffs, churls, clowns, creeps, cruds, crumbs, curs, dirtbags, dogs, finks, heels, hounds, jerks, jokers, louses, louts, pills, rats, rat finks, reptiles, rotters, schmucks, scum, scumbags, scuzzballs, skunks, sleazes, sleazebags, sleazeballs, slime, slimeballs, slobs, snakes, so-and-sos, sods, stinkards, stinkers, swine, toads varmint and vermin. Those were the only synonyms I could find.

I am so glad that the Trumpian perseveration is nearly over and I can get back on the road to mental health, although it will be a long, tricky path and I may never make it there but I’ll try. It’s so strange because until 2016, I viewed Trump as nothing more than a fat man with small hands, a clown, a charlatan and a money grubbing liar and after 2016 I viewed him as nothing more than a clown, a fat man with small hands, a charlatan and a money grubbing liar. It’s like the record keeps skipping and there’s nobody around to move the needle past the scratch that causes the skipping. But finally the needle has been moved, and the record removed.

Now I can get on with the business of perseverating over COVID- 19, as it invades every crevice of my waking or unwaking mind, removing every atom of oxygen in the room to leave me suffocating and pleading for air. Phew, that’s a relief.

While Trump was actually president, I actually had nightmares about him in which he would never leave and I would see him leading his country through the next century and I had continual and painful cold sores on my mouth while I was forced to eat lemons while I kept trying to wake up but could not find my car. So now I’m having nightmares about COVID-19 that will never leave through the next century and I keep trying to wake up, and I can’t. Last night, while in slumber, I was convinced that my throat was sore and that my chest was congested and that I probably couldn’t taste anything. Fortunately I woke up without a sore throat and my chest was no more congested than it ever was and I was able to taste the sausage on my egg, cheese and sausage sandwich from Dunkin Donuts. i have awakened to one more day without the virus and for that I am grateful.

I understand that the vaccine will be a bit slower making its way to people who do not work in a hospital, are not old and don’t have some underlying condition, which means that it may be five years before the vaccine is available for me and many, many others. I will now take a moment to scream, so hold your ears as this will be a primal noise of the volume like nothing you have heard before, except for the noise of my son’s incessant snoring.

Well, I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore and I make my New Year’s resolution to never again perseverate over Trump or the pandemic. Instead, I will perseverate over what I can perseverate about, if that makes any sense, and it probably doesn’t. But perseverating over COVID-19 is better than perseverating over Trump because at least the virus just looks like a basketball with weird spikes sticking out of it and it doesn’t have an otherworldly orange comb-over and a wife made of cream cheese and a vice president who looks like there should be a wick sticking out of his head so the wax can be lit as he melts away into political oblivion forever and he cries as his political life fades in the sunset.

However, it is the waiting that drives me batty because, hello, my life is ticking by and wouldn’t that be a kick if I drop dead the day after I get the vaccine. That would be a real howl and it could happen. I would like to know right now when the vaccine will come my way because I feel like I felt when my mother would say “soon” when I asked when we could leave my boring cousin’s home.

And after I finally get the viral protection I will dance the night away at a bar where I can’t move because it’s so crowded and the next day I’ll go to the Somerset Patriots baseball game where the crush of fans seems never to move as I wait for my sausage and peppers sandwich and my overpriced, watered down beer so I can sit in the stands, watch the curve balls curve and feel the sun baking me. I just hope I’m not dead yet.

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Journalist for 40 years and now a creative writer

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Phil Garber

Phil Garber

Journalist for 40 years and now a creative writer

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