Sitting on my deck last night listening to beautiful Italian music played via an AppleMusic “Euro Cafe” playlist, felt like an escape. It’s the best I’m going to do this summer, I suppose. Feeling the air on my skin, though, and seeing the evening sun light up my plants for the final time for the day, it seemed pretty darn good. Not Parikia maybe, but also not a place I mind spending my time.
Speaking of time, 2020 is simply not to be believed. This current and continuing crisis has disrupted life in uncountable ways. It’s impossible for me to process at times, like a sick whack-a-mole game of critical situations demanding immediate attention all around us. Even without COVID-19, it has become increasingly more difficult to breathe.
This is not remotely the summer I had planned it to be, but I’m healthy and financially stable and what more than that can you ask for at a time like this? I am incredibly fortunate.
When I hear Edith Piaf belt out “La Vie en Rose,” I can’t help but remember sitting in a ray of sunshine in Montmartre listening to the very same song being played on a crank record player. It’s a wonderful memory of a trip with my oldest son and Aunt and Uncle, a true souvenir. I’ll never forget that day and that trip.
I’d like to believe that I will revisit Paris, and Paros, eventually. If I had a valid passport (waiting on my renewal for nearly 4 months now) and the opportunity to fly somewhere wonderful, I’m not sure if I would go. The world feels a little scary right now. No, I’m not afraid of political protests and movements designed to achieve long necessary antiracist equality in our country. That’s the most positive change I’ve witnessed during this bizarre time, actually.
What I’m afraid of is this virus and our federal government’s complete ineptitude in dealing with it, a statement that almost gives them too much credit seeing that they simply Didn’t Deal With It at all. I’m worried about living in a country where people continue to listen to this, unqualified at best, man in the Oval Office and provide him with respect, and even adoration. I’m frightened to think that there are voters who, more than anything including Rapture, want four more years of this shit show. I’m concerned that I live in a place where somehow wearing a mask as become a political/intellectual statement, instead of the most basic means of protecting one another from the spread of this virus.
Sitting on my deck, wearing the skirt I bought last winter because the color reminded me of Greece, I feel truly lucky to have place to be outdoors, to listen to music and read. It’s not really the beach, nor can I smell the burnt sugar aroma of freshly made crepes, but Andrea Bocelli singing and a glass of rosé sure makes for a cheap getaway.