WHAT A RUSH

            Throughout my entire life, I have known that the world outside my own house was dangerous, vile, poisonous, germ-ridden, and evil. And no one ever understood that. And now, as abruptly as if someone threw a switch, the whole world knows it. The entire world finally understands the obvious. With sudden catch-phrases such as STAY HOME, and SHELTER IN PLACE, and GO HOME AND ISOLATE, and LOCKDOWN, and QUARANTINE, the entire planet has suddenly been educated in a way that I have always been. WHAT A RUSH! The rest of the world finally gets me, in all of my introverted, loner, agoraphobic glory!

            My own otherwise sympathetic parents dragged my anxiety-ridden, at-the-time-teenage ass all over this country. Remember that ad on TV in the early 1960s: "See the USA in your Chevrolet! America is asking you to call!" I'll bet some of you are sitting there singing it, in all of its sing-song-y nauseating glory! Well, my parents took that ad too much to heart, even to the (probably coincidental) fact that we always had Chevys. Thankfully they realized that at least ONE state was worth skipping: Alaska. But they dragged me, crying and screaming, to 49 of the 50 states. Year after year, I would suffer through an entire anxiety-ridden school-year, enduring bullying by many male classmates (and no one cared if we were bullied in those days), enduring bullying by women Phys. Ed. teachers (during the three junior high school years), just waiting for those ten miraculous weeks of reprieve when I could actually experience some degree of calm, only to have two or three of those beloved ten long-awaited and well-earned weeks stolen from me and given over to a different form of anxiety: being carsick some of the time and homesick all of the time. No, we never had a car accident, but I had to fear it every minute of every day, which can make two or three weeks seem incredibly long. No, we never got attacked by a vicious crowd, but there was a lot less of that kind of crap going on in those days. No, we never picked up a germ, but being carsick most of the time achieved much the same result.

            Then, I grew up and became a teacher. Bad move. Never assume, if you're a sickly child, that you will outgrow it as an adult. And schools are by far the worst germ-factories available. Gradually, via one illness after another, I became seriously, chronically long-term ill. And here's the kicker: one supervisor, two principals, and a multitude of kids' parents BLAMED ME! For being sick! And these were the same parents who had sent their sick kids in to infect everyone in the first place, instead of keeping them home in bed as my parents had had sense enough to keep me. (And no, don't bother to say that mothers didn't have jobs in those days; my mother DID, and she took off work to keep me at home when I was ill). Further, I had become a foreign language teacher. Really bad move. Now, I had all of my foreign-language colleagues haranguing me: "Why don't you want to go to France and Spain?!" I wasn't going to explain the whole highly-personal agoraphobia-bit; I simply replied, "I'm a linguist, not a culturist; I leave the latter to the social studies department." It was simpler that way. But really! Talk about minding other people's business!

            And now, during my lifelong-awaited retirement, some friends wonder why I don't want to travel. At least, they've wondered it up to now. But now, they finally get it! The entire world finally gets it! WHAT A RUSH!