ANXIETIES

Dear George, 

 Between the volatile international situation, the ups and downs of the pandemic, and daily Republican atrocities, the world is becoming increasingly unpredictable and dangerous, and my sense is that these macroscopic tensions are filtering down to the nitty gritty details of our personal lives. In my own case, I’ve come to feel more and more that the entire world around me is disintegrating. Here are a few examples. 

The End of Musical Parking. When we go to the symphony, there are two main parking garages. One, directly across from Music Hall costs $15, and the second, behind Music Hall on Central Parkway is $10. Needless to say, we always park at the latter. On our last visit we were shocked to find that, despite being an hour early, the sign at our parking garage entrance said FULL. We pulled in anyway, and the attendant explained that it was opening night for the professional soccer team down the street, and their patrons had taken up all the spaces. Dismayed, we went to the more expensive garage, but they too were FULL. Though against my principles, I decided to use Valet Parking for $20. No luck, the valet guy said; they were restricted to a total of 10 spaces for pre-paid customers because of the soccer game. Likewise, all of the open-air parking lots in the vicinity were full. After some cogitation, I dropped Katja off to go to the symphony by herself, returned home, and came back two hours later to pick her up. Not only did my $90 ticket go to waste, but I anticipate this being a regular problem in the future. 

Demented Driving. I was backing our of our driveway a few weeks ago when I heard a loud thud and my car came to an abrupt stop. I looked in the mirror and discovered I’d backed into a pickup truck that was waiting for the traffic light to change. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve backed out of that driveway a thousand times without incident. I suspect I was looking right and left but not behind me. The pickup driver was miffed and unpleasant. He said he’d paid $50 thousand dollars for his truck, and he planned to keep it in mint condition. We discovered a small scratch at the bottom of his front door which he said was my fault. He asked for my insurance info, but I said I preferred to pay out of pocket. He was on his way to Northside and said he would go to the body shop and get an estimate. He didn’t call back that day, nor did he call the next. In my mind, I imagined he was searching around for an estimate that would involve replacing his entire door at a cost of several thousand dollars. Weeks later he still hasn’t called. My rational mind tells me that he won’t ever be calling for a minor scratch that probably wasn’t even my fault. However, my lizard mind still goes into a state of panic whenever the phone rings. 

Insane Driving. While my fender bender involved a speed of 2 or 3 miles per hour, the drivers on the major street in front of our house, Ludlow Avenue, have gone insane during the pandemic, regularly reaching speeds of 50 to 60. There are at least six places on our block where tire tracks on the lawn indicate that cars have careened off the roadway, sometimes knocking over lamp posts, fire hydrants, or sections of front porches. Wary that our sidewalk is now a battlefield, I’ve taken to walking our dog Iko on the back streets. 

Uninvited Guests. I was annoyed a couple of years ago when our insurance company insisted that we trim the oak tree next to our house to keep animals from climbing up and getting into the house. We did have some trimming done, but apparently not enough since we’ve started hearing loud thumping noises from our attic. These are large animals — not squirrels or chipmunks. In my mind I envision small black bears, but raccoons or opossums are a more likely possibility. Following a suggestion from the Internet, I started playing WLW talk radio loudly in the attic. This seemed to help for a few days, but now the thumping has resumed. As an Upper Peninsula guy, I’m mildly comfortable with sharing our house with wildlife, but I remain nervous about the potential destruction. 

Miscellany. There are so many other sources of anxiety in my life that it’s hard to list them all. All our services have become unreliable. Many days we get no mail, newspaper delivery is haphazard, and sometimes we get no trash pickup. My spouse forgets to lock the car door and the patio door, leaving us vulnerable to the many burglars who are roaming about our neighborhood. We lost HBO MAX for a week for no reason, our bedroom TV has stopped showing any programs, and my word-processing program on the computer is acting up so that I’ve decided to never close it. Gas and food prices have shot up. Perhaps because of the food shortages hordes of little crawling bugs visit our kitchen counter and sink late at night. Our gardener billed us a thousand dollars for raking leaves in the autumn and winter. My triglycerides are much too high. The dog sporadically gets diarrhea. On top of all this, because of my advanced age my doctor won’t give me the tranquilizer I’ve relied on for years. I am hopeful that we can just come to accept that the world is crumbling around us and manage to carry on despite it all.

Love, 

Dave