At the time it almost seemed cute. Fun, in a way. Like I was in a movie. I remember walking my dog on a deserted golf course. The only human on a golf course on a clear warm day in March. I took my dog off the leash and let her chase birds. The birds weren’t used to being chased by a dog. They were used to golfers in carts. I felt like Will Smith in “I Am Legend.” Just my dog and me, and the birds. No one on the golf course. Avoid the zombies. There’s one hidden waiting to bite me on the neck and turn me into a zombie. There weren’t even cars on the road.
That was three years ago when we as a nation were cowed into believing COVID was like an invading army of zombies. Hide the kids! Or just hide. If we just stayed inside, hid in the dark for two weeks, we’d be saved. Fauci would save us. Don’t touch your face! Don’t touch anything! Horde the toilet paper! The glib litter man will save us all.
