Driving Down to Delaware? Perhaps.
Hopefully, by continuing to move around the Northeast, the face mask, now a part of Retarded Chic, will begin to disappear and be replaced by, uh, faces?
Our ongoing quest to rediscover the Northeastern United States, we have taken VOLUNTARY trips to Maine, Pennsylvania, and upstate New York. Recently, due to CV19 Hysteria, we have escaped to Long Island . . . word of warning about LI. If you take the LIE, you will be bombarded every ten miles with a sign that says, "Stay Home. Save Lives." and "#FlattenTheCurve." I am hoping the dorks in the Highway Department paid attention to the news and eliminated one of the signs.
We #FlattenedTheCurve two weeks ago.
Sorry for the digression. Long Island and Connecticut have been our refuge from The City That Used To Know How, New York. The Big Apple is now The City That Can't Organize A Closet.
Long Island, strictly a day trip, provided respite from the crushing dopiness of a population which shredded the First Amendment over the last six weeks, then onto Connecticut as I've blogged.
However, its small community coziness is starting to wear on us. Lee and I are, and always have been, city folk. Some people are. Some are not. We need the city with the noise, crowds, expense, and inconvenience. We are willing to trade that for culture, socializing, dance classes, wine bars, book signings, movie theaters, and on and on and on.
Now we don't have that. We still have our stupidly expensive apartment, but if you're going to spend the kind of money we do on housing, you don't want to live in Des Moines, which is what New York turned into on March 16th.
If this national dementia does not resolve by Memorial Day, we are heading to the beaches in Delaware and Maryland for the month of June, and possibly longer.
We'll find an enclave and bask in the joys of something. I'll also get a haircut, because Delaware has not capitulated to that absolute ridiculousness of shutting down barbershops and salons.
For that alone, it's worth the trek.