COVID and Laughter
The second week of the COVID quarantine meanders like a weed through our gardens. They are choking the breath. Here life is lived outside, yet this insidious weed has chased the retirees from the Plaza and the Malecon. Young men no longer gather on steps drinking cold beer and wafting marijuana. Every morning I enjoyed my coffee watching the hustling and bustling on the street below me as parents walked young children to school and women did their daily shopping. Now the street is eerily empty. Schools are vacant and businesses shuttered. Occasionally a woman will go the tienda next door and come back with a quart of milk or orange juice. This morning as I drank coffee and planned my day, laughter erupted at the house next door. Uproarious, deep belly laughter from the men and high pitched shrieks from women and children. The sound died down and then bellowed out again. Suddenly I was back with my Aunt Janis, Uncle Forrest, Aunt Annie Mae and Uncle Jim telling stories that bro...