Very important first point: I'm fine. I've been fine. My week with COVID has been about as uneventful as a week with COVID can be.
But I have it, manifesting in a positive test result last Saturday and a county-mandated quarantine since then. I've suffered nothing worse than cold symptoms--the cough, the sneeze, the throat, the nose, the weariness, the temperature slightly north of what 1967 one-hit wonder Keith would have preferred--and it never even felt like one of my more miserable colds. It was, all in all, more in line with the symptoms of what I usually refer to as "April." I thank the makers of Moderna for that. And here I thought those three super-science shots didn't give me super powers.
Nonetheless, I couldn't be around people. My wife Brenda and I share a small split-level home. Our daughter Meghan offered Brenda space at her house, but Brenda declined, justifiably concerned with the possibility of carrying COVID cooties from our house to Meghan's house.
So, in our modest quarters, Brenda and I sequestered to the extent we were able. I took over our bedroom, Brenda moved into Meghan's old room. I commandeered the downstairs bathroom, Brenda assumed control of the upstairs facility. We eat at opposite ends of our lengthy dining room table. When watching TV, Brenda sits on the couch in our family room while I remain in the kitchen. For conversations, the spots we've staked out in our living room are far more than six feet apart. We share the office, but at different times. We disinfect surfaces and respect boundaries. We remain masked. Brenda has continued to test negative throughout my quarantine so far. I pray that trend continues.
One unusual side effect of COVID is its Red Kryptonite influence on dreams. Man, some of my dreams this week have been off-the-wall, and that's coming from someone whose untethered imagination can make dreams a freakin' wild frontier in normal times.
In one recent night's vision, Brenda and I were part of a gathering at a diner or club, a small group of family and friends, including Pete and Maura Kennedy. One of the Yardbirds walked in, and immediately got into a to-do with Pete Kennedy. As we witnessed those events unfurl, I told Brenda that the same exact thing had happened decades ago between this rude Yardbird and Maura's brother Joe Boudreau when Joe and I were teens. Stupid Yardbird! I went over to tell Maura about the coincidence, but she was too busy chatting with Liza Minelli and my cousin Donna to even acknowledge my presence. I shrugged at my ex-wife Chrissie Hynde as Brenda and I excused ourselves from this crazy scene.
And...CUT!
When I started writing this post, the above was supposed to be the cute li'l capper to a brief tale of my COVID week, shrugging off this pause in my life as I reached the end of my quarantine. Instead, an unexpected second positive test now means I'll be extending my stay at home even further.
I did not see that coming. I know I'm lucky that I'm not really sick. And I understand that I'm toxic in the moment, and that I can't return to the world just yet. The mask stays on. Contact remains distant. Maybe I'll close my eyes and pick a fight with a Yardbird. Hey, after the way he treated Pete Kennedy and Joe Boudreau, it's not like he doesn't have it coming. Stupid Yardbird.
Stupid COVID.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl airs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, and on the web at http://sparksyracuse.org/ You can read about our history here.
I'm on Twitter @CafarelliCarl
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