Postcards as a national distraction
Lock the doors! Shutter the windows! If not, the authorities will take care of things for you. Today, another public health teleconference, with increased restrictions. To protect us, because there are among us those too stunned to do so on a personal basis.
Effective tonight, no more than two outsiders in your home. The schools will close. Oddly, the essential services include alcohol and gambling services, with inhibited entry to the related facilities. As for inhibitions…
I’m taking this all in stride. Really short strides; I haven’t been outside the homestead in over a year. My needs are humble. Others will have to decide if the limitations are too much. I swear, there are those among us who resemble the legendary lemmings.
My attention lies elsewhere. The final match of the Scotties will begin, close to bedtime (Alberta is a world away). The same octet as a year ago, with the same drive to win. Should be interesting. And tomorrow, I’ll have to find something else to distract me.
Perhaps I’ll receive a postcard! Our national mail service has a brave new plan. Every household will get a franked unit of public mail (the postcard, sent to one, read by many). I guess the carriers don’t have enough junk mail on hand, so now we’ll call on the nation to spew millions of simple messages. And if I don’t receive one, I will have to assume that I’ve fallen into a state of anonymity.
As of today, my big old database has reached 103K names. What started as a simple recognition that I had children and siblings has turned into a faceless blob.
