WWJS?

My thoughts have turned inward over the past couple of weeks. Perhaps it’s coronavirus blues. Or COVID-19 overload. Maybe it’s “Zoom fatigue,” which is a thing now.

More likely, it is because I am focused on the loss of my father, Jimmy John, who died May 20, 2009, already 11 years ago. I’ve decided to embrace my restless heart and see where it leads. Can’t hurt. Might help.

(SCENE: The kitchen table at my parents’ condo, where we spent most visits sipping a glass of Fortissimo California full-bodied red from a gallon jug.)

My father and I are having a conversation about the global pandemic. I’ve wondered how he’d react to what’s happened over the past few months. “WWJS: What Would Jimmy Say?”

I think I know. Here goes:

ME: Hey, Dad, you won’t believe this, but it’s 2020, and we’re living in a global pandemic. The entire state of Michigan has been shut down under a stay-at-home order going on 10 weeks now.

DAD: Hi, Babe. Are you workin’ hard or hardly workin’? Why a shut down?

It’s because of a novel coronavirus that gives you COVID-19 disease. Lots of people are sick. Thousands are dying. It’s highly contagious.

Jesus. That’s terrible. Thank God your mother isn’t here to see this.

No kidding. And yes, it’s horrible. Hugs and kisses have suddenly become weapons. And not visiting friends and family has become an act of love. I haven’t seen people in ages. If we do, we must stay outside. Or we hold Zoom parties online. It’s like “Hollywood Squares.”

Are you out of your mind? Turning 60 has affected your brain. Anyway, I always liked Rose Marie on that game show. Not the host, though.

Seriously, Dad, everything’s canceled. I mean everything – birthday parties, graduations, weddings … even sports. And get this: You must wear a protective mask over your nose and mouth if you go out and also maintain a social distance of at least 6 feet from others.

What? You’re pulling my leg. Your mother used to say I was socially distant. No sports? Sounds like hell on earth to me.

You were sometimes. It’s true about the sports. No baseball. No car racing. No golf. Likely no football this fall either.

What? No Detroit Tigers baseball? No Tiger Woods? He was overrated.

Right. No baseball yet. With golf, they’re allowing pros to play in tournaments on TV but without spectators. And you can play at public courses if you walk or drive a cart by yourself.

Sounds boring. No crowds for those volunteer yahoos to yell “Quiet, please” at? Electric carts are for wimps. I walk all the time now.

Good for you. Rebecca and I mostly stay in the house, watch Netflix, eat too much and pray for warm weather. We try to stay active by walking and doing Jazzercise online. No shopping, except for food, which we pick up at curbside or have delivered.

Your mother would go crazy if she couldn’t shop at Kroger’s.

For sure.

What about eating out? Could I still get my senior coffee at McDonald’s?

Sure, but it’s drive-thru only. You can’t go in and schmooze with the workers. Plus, I’m pretty sure the price of a cup has gone up since your last visit. It’s something like 65 cents, unless you want an espresso, iced mocha or caramel latte. Then it’s about $4.

You’re losing me. I’d never pay that much for a cup of coffee. Thieves!

But gasoline is really cheap. It was even less than a buck a few weeks ago. Not that we’re driving anywhere. Figures.

Supply and demand, Babe. Never let it get below half a tank. Have you checked your oil lately? By the way, how’s your 401(k) doing?

Don’t ask. Businesses shut down or cut back operations to limit the spread of the virus. About 20.5 million people lost their jobs. Unemployment is at its highest since the Great Depression with nearly 15% of Americans out of work. But the government sent us $1,200 to help get through the pandemic. People are struggling.

The government gave you free money? Those damn Democrats must be in charge again. Who’s president? Is it Clinton’s daughter? Glad I’m gone.

Nope. Not Chelsea, Dad. Our president is … wait for it … Donald Trump.

You really should stop pulling my leg, Jin. I may be dead, but I’m not stupid.

(Dad finishes his wine, stands up and gets ready to leave.)

Well, give your old man a hug, Babe. I gotta go see a man about a horse.

You’re going golfing again, aren’t you?

Yeah, but your mother thinks I’m getting the car washed. I have a tee time with Paul. That lucky Irishman still beats me. He knows a guy named Peter at the Pearly Gates Country Club. They say he’s a saint.

Of course, he is.

You be safe. Stay well. Stay home. And wash your hands, Babe. 

I will, Dad. Keep it in the fairway. Hugs to Mom.