On a recent night, I was walking down Winslow Way on Bainbridge Island, lost in my thoughts.
I had my mask in my shirt pocket. Some people are making wearing a mask into a political issue. I own a bar that I will likely lose due to coronavirus.
This summer, we had brown days from the smoke as wildfires raged. It reminded me of my youth in L.A., when we could not play at recess because of the smog.
We’ve had riots across the country, a repeat of what I witnessed years ago — the same cause but hopefully a different result. We lost the “Notorious RBG.” We’ve had more than 210,000 dead and a president telling us the flu is worse. We have murder hornets.
Why do we even get up in the morning?
Then a kid on a skateboard came around the corner and almost mowed me down. He was mortified: “It’s OK guy, I’m fine.” “Are you sure, mister? I’m so sorry.” “Dude, get back to your buddies and get to skating.”
He took off and joined his buddies, screaming and laughing, a bunch of wild-ass teenagers having a great time.
Maybe things aren’t so bad.
Gerald Simonsen, Bainbridge Island