Tomorrow all New York City gyms will reopen with an array of rules and regulations, but they’ll be open for business, for the first time in over 5 months.
I heard a lady say, how awful she thought it was. All those sweaty bodies in an enclosed space.
Her friend said, so what…it’s life, and the show must go on.
This made me think as I made my way home.
I’ve just finished two books on Teddy Roosevelt who lost his mother to Typhoid Fever, and without a vaccine, still went back to work.
Twenty years before that, Lincoln lost his 11 year-old son, Willie, to it also, and still went to Gettysburg.
Life didn’t stop because people were dying, and this is during a time when washing your hands and donning facial covering wasn’t even suggested.
It gave me resolve that, the second woman made a great point, that sweaty bodies or not, we need to carry on.
My seamstress who won’t sew for fear someone’s dress or skirt will infect her, needs to get her needles back out.
A former hairdresser of mine, who makes everyone bring a towel, has to dig out his Tide and do a load of his own.
The woman down the hall that sprays Lysol in front of her as she heads to the elevator, should switch to a sweeter scent like Chanel Number 5, or a little Verbena, from L’ Occitane.
My long winded point?
Enough is enough.
Let’s live, why don’t we. leaving fear to fend for itself.
My true sense.