Satirical Semite: Corona Hangover

I am a fan of Chinese culture. There is the elegance of Tai Chi and the ancient Chinese energy-healing systems I learned from Taoist master Mantak Chia. Amazon shopping lists are made easier with Chinese-manufactured products, and daily life would be harder without them. It’s just that last month I received another export from China and joined the chic club of coronavirus patients. COVID is the gift that keeps on taking. It wasn’t on my wish list, and this time Amazon Prime won’t accept returns.

I was fully vaccinated months ago, patriotically receiving the AstraZeneca Oxford vaccine that was developed in England. The vaccine debate rages, from discussions about the safety of the injections to the civil liberty infringements of government-imposed vaccination. Last week Judge James Shapiro in Illinois forbade an unvaccinated mother from seeing her son, twisting a child support hearing into a politically-weaponized vaccine statement. The decision was later reversed. 

Despite immunization, I still spent six days in bed with a cough that was so intense I nearly evacuated my guts. Even now I am experiencing daily post-COVID fatigue. Fortunately I didn’t lose my sense of taste or smell, and I’ll try to keep my comments in good taste even though the alleged coronavirus cover-ups smell increasingly fishy.  

I was very careful at the beginning of the pandemic. I got shouted at by a man in a kosher market in West L.A. who asked me to step away from the cucumbers because he was within a five-feet radius of my cart. So I moved away by an extra length of two cucumbers. That’s English cucumbers, rather than Persian cucumbers, because the former are approximately three times the length of the latter, not that I’m showing off. Anyway, the angry Angeleno seemed happy with double English cucumber radial distance. 

The “I’ve had enough of social distancing” attitude was pervasive after 18 months and the “isn’t this nice we’re back in a bar without a mask?” approach was indeed nice. Until, three days later, after my first trip to a bar at my first indoor maskless event, I found myself shivering, achy, coughy and lying in bed. Several others from the party also came down with it. Nevertheless I take full responsibility for my choices and the resulting cost. Things could be worse. The ongoing post-COVID fatigue may be uncomfortable, but I didn’t end up in the hospital, and it’s still far better than being stuck outside the airport in Kabul.  

The ongoing post-COVID fatigue may be uncomfortable, but I didn’t end up in the hospital, and it’s still far better than being stuck outside the airport in Kabul.

I became so bored at home that I completed an American history home-study course, by watching “The People vs O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story” on Netflix. The parts I liked best were the helicopter shots circling the Spring Street Courthouse and seeing the getaway chase on the 405. It was an exciting distraction from the coronavirus. Whatever works. As they say, “if the glove fits, wear it,” unless of course you’re O.J. and the blood-stained gloves didn’t quite fit. 

At what point can ungloved fingers be pointed and blame be apportioned for the spread of COVID? The UK Sunday Times recently ran a feature about the great cover-up and how the World Health Organization has been corrupted by China in a long-term political power move that began in response to their embarrassment over the SARS outbreak in 2003. According to the report, in 2017 the Chinese ally Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, an Ethiopian official, was installed as Director-General of the World Health Organization, and he put off declaring an international emergency at the start of pandemic so as not to embarrass China, although he could have saved many lives had he declared it earlier. 

Was the virus deliberately created in a lab or in the Wuhan wet market? Does it make a difference? The viral horse has bolted, the flu has flown the coop, and the bat’s out of the bag. 

With life after coronavirus, sometimes you’ve just got to stop and smell the roses. At least, that is, if your nose still works.

Marcus J Freed is an actor, writer and business consultant. www.marcusjfreed.com