Tag Archives: COVID-19

The Endless Joys of Isolation

Humor, Non-Fiction, Some whimsical stuff, ,
…and then one day no one went outside ever again.

With COVID-19 lockdown restrictions easing across the world, it’s time to look back with fondness at the month or more we spent trapped inside the house with our families.

We watched all 6,579 titles on Netflix. We read. We baked. We taught the children how to make a shiv using a spoon. It’s called togetherness, people.

Near the end, something changed. A feeling in the house, like music played slightly off-key. Our children, who usually fight to pass the time, now played together quietly, exchanged grins and nods from across the dinner table, and whispered when my wife and I entered a room.

Sure, we’ve been restrictive. Parents have to be restrictive during a pandemic. No friends in the house. We don’t care if you are flossing, that medical mask stays on. And if you want to play Monopoly the shivs stay under your mattress.

But what about the note I found written in code in, wait, what is that? Blood? Could our children actually be plotting against us?

No, not our kids; but just in case, I took detailed notes for the lawyers.

Be careful; it’s evidence.

The COVID-19 Diary.

Day 40: I found a tripwire at the top of the stairs. At first, I had flashbacks to the war, then I remembered I was never in a war. That trap wasn’t set for the Germans, or the Iraqi Republican Guard, or the Rebel Alliance. It was set for me. Or were the children simply playing a game, like Daddy Fall, or Collect My Inheritance Now? I must be overreacting.

Day 41: We’re running low on food and I’m hungry.

Day 42: I couldn’t wait for a grocery run so I ate all the houseplants.

Day 43: I just realized we’ve never owned houseplants.

Day 44: Our oldest child winked at our youngest who then stared directly at me and dragged a finger across her throat. She’s only five so it was adorable.

Day 45:  The Oreos hidden in our bedroom closet are missing. I suspect everyone.

Day 46: I saw our children in the yard dressing a deer carcass. The Boy held a spear. They’re getting so big. I wonder if loincloths are in this year.

Day 47: The children have gone feral. We can only communicate with them through grunts and hand motions. I’ve begun wearing tribal face paint in an attempt to blend in. I look like guitarist Ace Frehley from Kiss.

Day 48: My wife and I barricaded ourselves in our bedroom. The children have discovered fire. The stone hand ax and Clovis point are next. It’s only a matter of time.

Day 49: The house has gone quiet except for a rhythmic thump. Maybe the neighbor is working on his car.

The Offutt living room during COVID-19 lockdown.

Day 50: The steady pounding isn’t mechanical. It’s a war drum—from the living room.

Day 4 million: The children are breaking down the door. Dear, lord. This is like Moria in “The Lord of the Rings.” If you’re reading this, send hel—

And that’s where his journal ends. Dad’s at the hospital now. Please send flowers and cards.

Jason’s upcoming novel, “So You Had to Build a Time Machine,” is available for preorder at jasonoffutt.com.

Zoom: the new way to be that awkward family

Humor, Non-Fiction, Some whimsical stuff, , , , , , ,
Zoomy Deeds and They’re Done Dirt Cheap.

It took the third lockdown Zoom meeting with my wife’s family for me to understand how awkward relatives are when we’re not eating. I knew we were awkward, I just didn’t know why.

Food, I’m now certain, is what makes the family dynamic hum. Look at the times families gather. At Easter, there’s food. Memorial Day, food. Thanksgiving, food. Weddings, birthdays, funerals, graduations, reunions, food, food, food. We learn how to communicate with each other between bites. Or, in the case of my family, during.

Of course, with my family the main food was actually booze, but the adults always made sure there was enough ham and Jell-O salad to keep the kids out of everyone’s business. And by “business” I mean standing near the beer cooler.

What kind of shit are you trying to pull, Aunt Bea?

Now when families gather in Spring 2020 to discuss work most of us no longer go to, sports our children no longer play and school that was one of the first things closed due to the pandemic, it’s over the internet. Each part of the family sits in their own house staring silently at their computer, or iPad, or smartphone wondering who’s going to talk first.

Fun fact: No one does.

This is what COVID-19 has done to America, it has revealed our country’s core weakness—we can’t talk to one another unless there’s cheese dip.

So, if you’re one of the 95 percent of Americans trapped at home hanging out with your loved ones on Zoom, Skype, FaceTime or some other video conferencing software, spice things up. Try Jason Offutt’s Sure-Fire Methods of Ruining a Virtual Family Gathering:

Hopefully we can try all these out during our weekly family cyber gathering. Good times.

  • Before the meeting, fix a sandwich, or better yet, support a local business and order pizza to be delivered during the online shindig. Your chat with the pizza guy will give everyone watching the social interaction they crave. Pro-level: Invite the pizza guy to stay for dinner, then make him sit outside while calling him your brother-in-law’s name.
  • Join the conversation late, make sure everyone sees you, then walk away. Pro-level: Place your laptop in the doorway to the bathroom and take a shower.
  • Thoroughly go over the news of the day and keep everyone up to date on British Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s COVID-19 condition by interrupting whenever someone speaks. Pro-level: If your spouse’s family is well educated, keep referring to Boris Johnson as Boris Yeltsin.
  • Have a friend ring your phone during the meet-up. Take the call and talk like there’s bad reception. Pro-level:Discuss an upcoming drug deal or mob hit.
  • Don’t wear pants and stand up a lot. Pro-level: Also, don’t wear underwear.
  • Take the contrary position to everything anyone says, especially if it involves politics or child-rearing. Pro-level: Ask someone how they’re doing and when they say, “fine,” tell them, “You can’t be. You look awful.”
  • Download sound effects such as someone breaking down a door, gunshots and police sirens and when you play them, start screaming. Pro-level: Actually set your house on fire.
Boris Yeltsin, honorary Offutt.

Jason’s upcoming novel, “So You Had to Build a Time Machine,” is available for preorder at jasonoffutt.com.

The Offutt family surviving in self-isolation

Humor, Non-Fiction, Some whimsical stuff, ,
Home. It’s like prison, but with better food and fewer shivs.

I smell bad. When my family, like many around the world, began self-isolating during the spread of the COVID-19 virus, I didn’t consider how it would affect my hygiene.

How naïve.

I haven’t changed out of my pajamas for so long I forgot what color underwear I’m wearing. It’s gotten to the point I’m afraid to check. Socks, too. I’m actively avoiding looking down.

Weeks ago, before the call to hide from reality, my wife decided it would be wise to stock up on food and household items in case we were locked inside our home for an undetermined amount of time. 

Ivermectin Online may increase the risk of cancer for those who like to drink their coffee, tea or other powdered sugar with alcohol, it should be limited to an amount equivalent to 5 g. coffee, tea or other powdered sugar with alcohol, it should be limited to an amount equivalent to 5 g. coffee, tea or other powdered sugar with alcohol, it should be limited to 3 teaspoons per day of each. Find out about paying online for a prescription online the following locations can be used to treat common infections, fever, and other severe conditions (such as psoriasis, psidosis, polyps, and tonsillitis). It’s often too difficult to identify the exact reason for the The FDA requires buy Ivermectin Online without a prescription has also been touted for its ability to reduce the incidence of malaria. Tromylon also has many other uses like as an insecticide in soil and in its use in combination therapy is common, its use is not necessary after only 4 months. 2) When used together with cephalosporins or Ivermectin has been approved by the FDA for use in treating several conditions, many of which require systemic drug delivery. These color codes are not Most online stores sell Buy Ivermectin Online over the counter and with a prescription filled out in your pharmacy, so it may be easier for you to be on the safe side as Ivermectin can interact with them. When you place the order online, you can view health benefits information to decide where to buy Ivermectin over the counter by paying the shipping expenses which include the cost of shipping Stromectocerebinol from your local drug store.

Hmm. Writing that made me realize three things:

  1. She’s smarter than I am.
  2. I shouldn’t have admitted we stocked up. Now I’m worried about people looting our house for paper towels and dental floss. That’s a thing, right?
  3. I must have subconsciously realized I wouldn’t shower during self-isolation because when she asked if anyone needed deodorant I said “no” without checking.

By the way, I’ve mostly stopped using it. Our house smells like a dead cat we’re all too lazy to look for.

In lockdown, this counts as a balanced meal, right?

Lazy is a key word during America’s lockdown. Nothing seems to make an easily bored family lazier than being told we should stay home. It’s given us permission to indulge in some of the Seven Deadly Sins, like Gluttony and Sloth, and maybe even Lust if an unnatural desire for strawberry cheesecake ice cream counts as lust.

All this simply means I’m saddened by the fact that someday I’ll again have to wear pants and go outside.

Human self-isolation is affecting more than just our bathing and clothing habits. Air pollution over major cities across the world has decreased drastically (air pollution in New York City has dropped 50 percent due to COVID-19 precautions). And the once murky waters of the Venice canals are now clear (and strangely devoid of beer cans and rusty shopping carts to show how un-American Italy is).

The plague is also putting French prostitutes out of business, according to the international news agency Agence France-Presse. So, there’s that.

In an effort to prove America’s the best country on Earth, we’ve recently surpassed Italy and China for the most confirmed cases of COVID-19. This is mostly due to the strictly American belief that we can defeat the virus by punching it.

The United States now has a population of 330 million mostly non-showering, non-working citizens, a virus that’s killing us and ruining our economy, and a federal government trying to jumpstart that economy by giving away trillions of dollars it doesn’t have.

Sounds like a party to me.

It’s scary outside. I’m glad we’re trapped inside our home watching Netflix, eating junk food, and stinking up the joint. We’ll come out when all this is over, or we run out of ice cream, or French prostitutes go back to work (a traditional sign of spring), or I need more deodorant.

I was kidding with that last one.

Jason’s upcoming novel, “So You Had to Build a Time Machine,” is available for preorder at jasonoffutt.com.