Thanks for the Memories!

I keep a handwritten journal, but its just full of minor kvetching and reminders of quotidian tasks. Dozens of notebooks now, which I intend to soon destroy. (Which may be gratuitous since my handwriting is illegible. Really. Even to me.)

Reviewing some of our former posts here, about the halcyon days BC (before Covid), the beginning of the pandemic, the privations of company and entertainment which stretched into a dreary winter, a cold spring, a summer studded with brightly- coloured canopies and umbrellas, like fungi growing on the dead dark interiors of our bars and restaurants. No hugging, kissing, no singing!

All I want to say is, although these are not happy memories, I’m so grateful that they’re preserved here. We on Unleashed were prescient and clear-sighted about this awful episode from the beginning—and we know we aren’t kidding ourselves about that because we can read our own reactions and our own predictions here, recorded (legibly!) in real time!

So thank you, dear Simon and the Ettes, and all our other followers ‘round this battered Ol’ sphere. Keep writing stuff down! As Yeats said:

“Of old the world on dreaming fed,/Grey truth is now her painted toy./Yet still she turns her restless head/. But oh! sick children of the world!/ Of all the many changing things/In dreary dancing past us whirled,/ Words alone are certain good!”