A pandemic diary: Letter to younger self

October 16, 2020

You’ve probably heard of and maybe indulged in the exercise of writing a letter to your younger self. The idea is to take stock, reflect, set down the big lessons of the past, and promise to live by them in the future.

That’s all well and good, but I’ve already made a reverse bucket list of the dumb things I did and great things I didn’t at various stops on life’s elevator. (“First floor: Childhood. Watch out for measles, bullies, and sixth-grade math. Second floor: Adolescence. Eh, just forget it.”) My 20, 30, and 40-year-old selves were so hopeless that I don’t even want them in my head. Besides, all I could offer would be cliches: “Check your tires. Buy Microsoft stock ( not Netscape).”

The only previous-edition Dave who could actually use my advice is the 65-year-old geezer who emerged last fall, and like all of us had no idea he was about to tumble into the slop. He’d wish he’d known these things, but maybe y’all can still appreciate some of them.

• Rent a warehouse and fill it to the rafters with toilet paper. You’ll thank me in March.
• Forget the wardrobe upgrade. Those sweatpants from the last millennium, the ones with the barbecue sauce and motor oil stains, will be just fine!
• If you live with a spouse or partner, make a rule that only one of you is allowed to go bonkers at a time. (This comes from my brother-in-law, who learned it while cooped up on a bus with his band.)
• You’ll hear a lot from a man named Fauci. Trust him.
• When watching football, please don’t scream at the top of your lungs to make up for all the fans who aren’t in the stands.
• FFS don’t shell out 70 bucks so your school will put your face on a piece of cardboard in a seat. You’ll be deeply, seriously embarrassed about that one when this is over. Give the money to a food bank instead.
• Try not to get riled every time you see some nincompoop in public without a mask. It’ll happen a lot more often than you think. Just keep wearing yours.
• There will be ways to vote and make your voice heard safely.

Last but not least, music will help you through the rough days and make the better ones feel right. Since I’m writing to my younger self, I’ll close with these words: “I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.” Makes sense to me. Take care and be safe.

Originally published at http://davesswan.wordpress.com on October 16, 2020.

Recent posts

A pandemic diary: It’s five o’ clock somewhere!
One man, one vote
My new short story