Michael's Corner

The following is not an anecdote:

During the height of the COVID-19 crisis, I stood behind a man at the checkout line at ShopRite. He captured my attention not because he was double-masked and wearing gloves but because he was double-masked, wearing gloves, and had a shopping cart chockful of cases of Sprite, bags of chips, and various containers of dips. I felt an inclination to ask the man if he thought the mask and gloves would protect him from the contents in his cart and if the family he was bringing home these “goodies” to were required to run for their masks and gloves before they began sipping and munching away. Naturally, I did not engage the man as I had wished. Not for fear of being told, “Go fuck yourself,” or “Mind your own goddamn business”—we have all had someone tell us as much a time or two—but because my intuition hinted that the implication and its irony would have floated painlessly passed his ears. He—and this applies to many—seemed unaware he epitomized a walking contradiction: someone armed to the teeth against one disease while rolling out the proverbial red carpet to welcome others.

     This man exemplified an all too familiar theme in the “land of excess:” those who lead reckless lives and make irresponsible choices, hoping big pharma will swoop in and “save their bacon,” or “them from bacon.” A strange phenomenon has swept through the Land of the Free. Either Americans consciously decided they could live disconnected from their bodies, or this disassociation, subliminally, is a consequence of many machinations: the internet, social media, gaming, and the mental junk food we routinely consume (politics) instead of paying attention to our own lives and those who depend on us.

     We are only days away from 2025. It’s high time we stopped blaming technology and the rot spewed on 24-hour-a-day cable networks for our sagging health and sedentary lifestyles, resulting in our expanding figures, and grasp the concept we are not avatars of the digital age but real-live flesh and blood creatures that suffer real-life consequences. We must reacclimate ourselves to what our bodies are, their purpose and importance, and reconcile that our accessories—smartphones, Apple watches, and Fitbits—are toys, not items we are condemned to obey. Exercise is not just a nifty three-syllable word that begins and ends with an “e;” it’s a concept that requires moderate to vigorous engagement. If you have become a mental midget counting steps with a Fitbit or similar device as you browse Target or Home Depot, stop! You’ll know that you “stepped” enough not when your delicate tootsies hurt from the inadequate shoes you wore when meandering about but when your quadriceps burn from performing legitimate exercise. Also, interacting with nature and drawing fresh air into our lungs must not remain a concept that makes us warm and fuzzy because we know the possibility exists; it, too, requires initiative and effort.   

     Woe is he who spends hours spiffing up his ride but all day vaping. Woe is she who drops two hundred bucks on a highlighting job but five mornings a week breakfasting at the drive-thru window of Dunkin Donuts.

     Four years ago, Marianne Williamson took what resulted in a feeble stab at becoming president. Nevertheless, she did raise a poignant issue; unfortunately, it resonated with too few people. She said—I may be paraphrasing—“We don’t do healthcare in America; we do health crisis management.”  

     Those of us who grew up in the 70s might remember a word that has disappeared from the American ethos: prevention. In recent times, many sported their masks and gloves, rocked the new lingo “social distance,” lined up for vaccinations, and patted themselves on the back for being “good citizens,” but what have they done since? Your body is not a rent-a-car. You cannot turn it in; you’re stuck with it.

It could run like this:

Or it could run like that:

We have the power to be a guiding force in our lives. Let’s tap into it for ourselves, our country, and our loved ones.