Home > Uncategorized > The year of the Bumpus Hounds….

The year of the Bumpus Hounds….

We’ve all got lots to be thankful for, but one might be forgiven in 2020 for losing the plot. Things are getting crazy again, shutdowns and tears of rage and being told that the simple act of gathering as a family to share a meal is akin to playing a game of Russian Roulette. Facebook erupted yesterday when the Governor announced stopping booze sales at 5pm on Thanksgiving Eve, normally the busiest bar night of the year. Nobody is quite sure how much longer they can hold on. It’s like the threat of an invasion from the Bumpus Hounds is hovering over all of us.

Patience. Toilet paper. Hand Sanitizer. All gone. The only thing we’re not running out of is curse words. It’s a bit refreshing to know that soon grown-ups will be in charge, but it’s gonna take a while for them to clean up the mess the crazy kids made. Meanwhile, my $1200 was gobbled up instantaneously, and that feels like it was a century ago. The government has become a large, tweeting echo chamber. Everybody has fallen, and nobody can get up except for that Jeff Bezos fella. We want to be….I don’t know…..reassured? Spoken to like adults? Told what the plan is for the distribution of these vaccines? What’s the time frame? Covid testing was and is a complete shit-show. Is there any reason to expect a vaccine won’t be? By my count there are 3 different drug companies with vaccines. One is 95% effective, and one is 70% effective. Does that mean one wins and the other is out? Or that some will just have to gamble with the B team? It’s like the paratrooper being reminded as he’s waiting for that tap on his leg that his parachute was made by the lowest bidder.

Not all of us knew somebody who tested positive during the first wave. This time? We all do. Concentric circles. Trying to keep the thing out is like the diner scene from “The Blob”. Or, all of us be like Rod Taylor in “The Birds”…armed with only a hammer and a few nails.

Can you get it again? I just checked online and the answers I got were “yes”, “no”, “maybe”, “we don’t know” and “in 6 months perhaps”.

We live in a nation where 7% of the population believes that chocolate milk comes from brown cows, so our future was pretty terrifying even without 2020 ever happening. Watching this year unravel has been like trying to fix a tangled cassette tape. You’ve got a fighting chance at the beginning….but the longer you drag it out, the more insanely frustrated you get, until you lose your mind and yank it all to smithereens. We’re kinda at that moment right now.

We’ve all got different hats we wear. The musician side of me has no idea what the future holds. Gigs are gone…..a few returned when the weather was warm and tents became a thing, but now the freeze is upon us and they’re gone. At the beginning of the pandemic the live streamed shows were a novelty, and had great support. Virtual tip jars were filled up. Then everybody started doing them and they weren’t a novelty anymore. You’re not walking into a filled bar anymore. You’re standing in the middle of the virtual street tying to wave down cars. But we enjoy playing. So we play. Come join us….or at least honk your horn as you’re driving by.

I’ve seen the Charlie Brown Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, so I have no idea what Times Square has planned for New Year’s Eve. Maybe the ball will drop on somebody’s head. 2020 can’t last forever….and soon the number will roll over, and the suckiness will troll 2021 HARD, and we’ll all regroup in a few weeks and compare notes.

Wear a mask. Keep your social distance. Support and be supportive. Try to understand that behind the mask everybody is a little heart-sick right now. We’re not made for isolation. We need human touch. But we’ve got to get through this. The virus doesn’t move on its own. It has to be carried. And if we can just hunker down long enough for it to wither and die on the proverbial vine, maybe it won’t feel like it does right now…..like it starts to get dark right after lunch.

We’ll soon leave the year of the Bumpus Hounds behind. Time promises nothing but forward movement.

In a bit..


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