Troubled Times...

I must admit that I’m blown away with the almost overnight Tsunami of attention paid to Corona by top government officials across the country.

Check it out:
I personally got a direct call from Anthony Fauci himself! He can usually be found sitting in front of a television camera explaining these kinds of health threats to Americans.

For more than three decades, Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), has served as the face of the federal government during public health threats.

But he was determined to do some things by himself, without the help of aids or secretaries. Tony (he said “Call me Tony” right after I called him Tony.) wanted to speak with an “average American” to ask about the effect of all this Coronavirus talk on their daily lives.

He got my number from the DIA.

Their database has something for everybody and something on everybody. Well it seems that when they look for Mr. Fauci’s “average” guy, my name came up. But there was a problem with that. Given the rather alarming fact that apparently, I was the most average man in America, that fact alone, ejected me immediately from the dead center of the Bell curve. Kicked from the very database that called me king!

Even though I was suddenly as far from average as one could get, T-Man called me anyway. (I evolved to calling him “T” Man as our bonding time continued. I think he kind of liked the label, made him puff up a bit.) He asked me about myself and “WazzzzzzzzzzzzSup?”
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Long story short, that DIA database had me down to a, well, a “T”. It even knows what people WILL do and when.

My report said:

EXTREME INTROVERT!
*Happiest at home with wife and dog only. No solicitors. Best not to approach."
*Likes to be in the kitchen working on something, maybe with Alexa playing some Louvin Brothers stuff.
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After reading me those personality analysis results,
T-Man asked me: “What are you doing right now?”

Me: “I’m in the kitchen working on something, with Alexa playing some Louvin Brothers stuff…But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

T-Man: Yes, I know your entire life in advance, everyone’s actually.

Me: “Well don’t tell me anything, not even a hint!”

T-Man: "OK but go ahead and get out that container of Dungeness Crab you picked. It’s on the top shelf of the fridge next to last night’s cup of butter with Old Bay in it. Get to work.
Your DIA Personality Profile says it’s the best therapy specifically for “introverts who like to cook and play Louvin Brothers music” I mean, that is what you were about to do? Right?"

Me: “You government guys really got your poop in place! Fun visit but goodbye now!”

We both felt better after that exchange. I was assured of doing the right things to avoid getting sick, and T-Man enjoyed his brush with the little people. I understand that he immediately bought a heavy gold chain with a large “T-Man medallion from Amazon Prime. It will be delivered tomorrow between 2 and 4 pm.

He could almost feel it there in his office, dangling loose under his starched white shirt like a heavy third testicle pressing up against his chest. "I'm the T-Man!" he kept saying to himself mentally putting his hand beneath his shirt to fondle and caress his medallion.

Happy for him, I sliced a perfect Blood Orange from our tree in the back yard, pleased to be doing exactly the right thing in these troubled times.