Hi y'all. I gotta hurry. I have only 40-minutes until supper comes out of the oven. We're on this whacko diet. So, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit to eat but apparently timing is part of the weight loss campaign.
I wrote yesterday that west Texas weather and Covid-19 have a lot in common. I wrote that seems to change daily. I was wrong. West Texas weather may change daily, but Covid-19 changes hourly.
(30-minutes to supper)
The MGM closed it's hotels and casinos. Several states shut down restaurants and bars. The White House issued an advisory to keep gatherings to 10-people or less. All this happened between 8:00am and 2:00pm. We had cloudy skies all day. Nothing changed.
Today was my day to get a good dose of social distancing and deal with the 10-person advisory. The first caught me off guard. The latter shocked me into reality.
Here's what happened. I went to the grocery store as usual early this morning. Jonathon, the manager, told me we can hope for more toilet paper on Thursday. Oh crap. I couldn't resist.
(24-minutes to supper)
The real developments began on my second trip to town. I had to run a few errands including stamps at the post office. I ran into our local newspaper publishers outside the building. I had a couple questions about the second element of my day as he's the expert on the matter. We talked like we were a couple of seventh graders dancing. We kept our distance and moved in circles, just like I did in 1975. One of our local undertakers was leaving. He offered his hand for a shake and it was the publisher who only offered his elbow. Wow! Bam! There it was. Social distancing first and then the blatant no touching. I felt so rude.
The second issue is boring but surprising, at least to me. I'm president of our local economic development board. We had to cancel our monthly meeting today due to Covid-19 fears. We tried to find a way to hold the meeting as a teleconference, but we couldn't do that due to the Open Meetings Act.
(17-minutes to supper)
Teresa and I remain holed up out in the country. Small town America might be the safest, calmest part of the country. Gracie, the dog, is fine. In fact, I was thinking this might be a good time to be a dog, cow, lamb or any animal.
(14-minutes to supper)
Supper's coming up. I wish I were excited. This diet works, but as a true southerner... it's absolutely terrible to not look forward to eating. It sucks and let me explain that. The phrase "It Sucks" has at least two definitions.
The first definition is literal. It sucks means it really sucks. But the second definition is ironic. For example if you ask me "How did it feel to win the $1,000,000 lottery" and I said, "It didn't suck," means it's great.
The diet really sucks... but it works.
Bill Robertson
What I wouldn't give for a #1 Combo at McDonalds or at least a good bag of Fritos. (8-minutes to supper)
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