Plague Journal, Nothing More To Say
A Thursday morning, still dark outside and I feel exhausted. This morning I’ve nothing in mind to say. I am tired, very tired.
The pandemic is gaining momentum, yet a second wave of infections, certain to grow worse with the coming cold months. This was foreseen as the certain result of official rejection of the seriousness of the covid-19 contagion, and the disparagement of science. Americans are human, all too human. We are inclined to believe in “good times-stories,” to indulge ourselves and forget about fighting a pandemic.
However life is hard. The virus is apolitical and will infect you no matter your party affiliation. Whether riding to Sturgis for a few days, to celebrate the “Harley lifestyle” with your bros, or traveling to Wisconsin to hangout in your favorite pub, the virus returns home with you. Others now ill, are subject to a variety of symptoms, potentially deadly. We will be broken by the truth which we did not accept. And so it goes.
We must rise up, and do what is necessary to survive. A big step in that direction is to vote on November 3rd, to send our science-denying, bloviating President back to where he came from, to a gilded hole, at a golf course or a namesake hotel.
I’ve referenced this song before. It is a good one. It is about not giving up, about overcoming, to find one’s muse, to have a voice.
Gotta keep on rockin’.
Juke Box Hero
By Foreigner
Standing in the rain, with his head hung low
Couldn’t get a ticket, it was a sold out show
Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene
Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream
He heard one guitar, just blew him away
He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day
Bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store
Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure
That one guitar, felt good in his hands
Didn’t take long, to understand
Just one guitar, slung way down low
Was one way ticket, only one way to go
So he started rockin’
Ain’t never gonna stop
Gotta keep on rockin’
Someday he’s gonna make it to the top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
He’s a juke box hero
He took one guitar, juke box hero, stars in his eyes
Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight
In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour
Thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door
Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain
And that one guitar made his whole life change
Now he needs to keep rockin’
He just can’t stop
Gotta keep on rockin’
That boy has got to stay on top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
He’s a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Yeah, juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
With that one guitar he’ll come alive
Come alive tonight
Yeah, he’s gotta keep rockin’
He just can’t stop
Gotta keep on rockin’
That boy has got to stay on top
And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
He’s a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes
Just one guitar, put stars in his eyes
He’s just a juke box hero, aah aah aah
Juke box hero, juke box hero, he’s got stars in his eyes
Stars in his eyes
2 thoughts on “Plague Journal, Nothing More To Say”
Listen you libtard, radical, left-wing, socialist, anti-American, freedom taker, ain’t nobody gonna tell ol’ Billy Biker where to go or what to wear. I been ridin’ my Harley for 50 years and ‘cept for a broken collar bone, ruptured spleen, punctured lung, six fractured ribs, four concussions, and a compound broken leg, nothin’ ever bad happened to me, so get outta my face about wearin’ a goddam freedom suckin’ mask. Me and my biker bros got this under control, ‘specially since this f–in’ so-called disease is a hoax anyway. And them’s that do get sick is a bunch a losers just like them dead loser vets.
So take your [cough] stupid [wheeze] mask crap and shove it [gasp, cough] up your liberal, pinko [cough, cough] ass.
Uh, I ….. can’t …… breath! I just gotta stop smokin’! [cough, cough, gasp]. Ain’t … no … virus [gasp, gasp]……..help! Hey man, get ……. me …….to ……. a . . . . . . hos . . . pi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I laughed out loud! Sorry that you were “outed” by the covid. I never knew you were a member of the Harley Tribe.