re: WFDT

Friend,

Ms. Sarah is a neighbor, a widow, actually, and I have made her a meal or two over the years. Of late, she has taken a kind eye to me and brings me a meal every few weeks now. I have asked her not to package it in styrofoam -- it is terrible for the environment, and I've always liked Pyrex and Tupperware. Still, though, she insists on her cheap disposables.

I was doing yard work this afternoon. When she approached I was trimming a little raised area of Asiatic jasmine. That greenery is hardy and pretty, but beastly if you let it get out of hand. I was using a battery operated hedge trimmer when I felt a tap on the back of my shoulder. Is that the back or is it the shoulder?, I've always wondered.

"TulaneLSU, TulaneLSU."

I could see she was yelling, but with my ear protection and goggles, her voice was muffled and hardly audible. Her lips were glossed with dark red coloring and she was wearing so much cakey white powder that her face had lost all the wrinkles I knew she had and her cheeks blended into her forehead with nay a disruption. I have always thought makeup makes women look absurd.

Once I removed my protective wear, she tried to hug me. In olden days, I might have given a side hug, but we are in pandemic days and physical contact frightens me more than usual. As she went in for the hug, I backed up and took out a mask from my back pocket, where I always keep a spare for the one who has none, following John the Baptizer's precept in Luke 3, or if you prefer, Jesus's teaching on the Mount.

Having properly protected myself from her aerosolized particles, I was ready to speak. "Oh, Ms. Sarah, you really are too generous." I could see and smell the food package.

"TulaneLSU, it is the least I could do for you. I would really like it if you came over later for hot chocolate. Mother tells me how much you love hot chocolate, especially the kind from Williams-Sonoma."

Every fiber in my body knows it is rude to decline an offer like that one. I was raised with good manners, and if a lady invites you to her house, it means you should accept, making sure, of course, to have a chaperone with you so that no licentiousness has a way to creep into places unwanted. In normal times, I would have accepted the invite, quickly cleaned up, and gotten Mother to join us. I might even have baked fresh chocolate chip cookies to bring with us.

But things are so different now. I fear this virus, and I am not close to being as social as I once was. I fear getting ill. I fear spreading it to someone else. What are viruses?

I really do not understand the nature of a virus. They are said not to be alive. They are in a category all their own. They have no will to live, but they want to make copies of themselves. Do viruses serve any positive function in the world? One can find good in every living being, even bacteria, but viruses? Viruses exist to destroy, kill, and replicate in order to destroy and kill. Ever since taking an introductory class on virology at Tulane, where the professor focused on the mechanics of viruses, I have contemplated viruses' teleological existence. My most sincere belief is that viruses are little fabrications of the devil. I say fabrications because the devil cannot create, so the devil, instead, takes little pieces of life, twists and distorts them, and fabricates a virus. Satan, if you will, has constructed these armies of fragments of life, little microscopic Frankensteins, to go out into God's good world and maim, sicken, and destroy. It's all a consequence of our Fall, but still the devil's doing.

Looking at the ground, ashamed, I responded, "Ms. Sarah, I with much regret must inform you that neither I nor Mother feels safe entering another's house. Please accept my apology and regrets for this evening."

Ms. Sarah seemed disappointed, as her eyes glossed, not quite to the point of tears, but certain disappointment. "It's okay, TulaneLSU. You could call me tonight and we could talk on the phone if that would be better? Anyway, I made you this meal."

"What's in it?!" I was quite excited.

"A pork chop and broccoli with a cheese sauce. The sauce is a secret family recipe that I think you'll enjoy."

"You have no idea! I cannot wait." I was so excited, I ran inside, took a photo and devoured the pork chop and broccoli. By the time I realized how rude I had been, Ms. Sarah was gone. I could not thank her, but I may call her to thank her, so long as it is okay to call a single woman after 8:00 during the week. Is that acceptable etiquette?

Anyway, my meal tonight was delicious and I will try to cajole Ms. Sarah into sharing it with me. If she does, I shall share the recipe with you.



Yours,
TulaneLSU