Landers column: Diary of a socially isolated man

Landers column: Diary of a socially isolated man

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To my readers, I felt it was best to write a column that takes your mind off of the seriousness and uncertainty we all face today. I worry immensely about my family, my friends, and my community. I fear for those who will become sick, and cannot begin to grasp the uncertainty many will face about their careers and financial futures, including me and those I love. We are all at the mercy of the unknown and we are all faced with a very clouded future, but we are in this together. I know my column is an escape for me, so hopefully it will be an escape for you too. It hopefully will bring a smile to your face, if only for a few minutes. As they say, laughter is the best medicine, may this be a dose to help us all.

Week One, Day One: The lock down begins. I am grateful that our natural cycle of family metabolism required us to get our supply of toilet paper from Costco just prior to the hysteria that ensued.

Otherwise, I would have probably been forced to string two toilet brushes together as make shift nun-chucks to fight off the crowds. I also made sure we had plenty of frozen pizzas for the days I was expected to make dinners. Got to sleep in today, and have plenty of time to sort my fishing lures later this week and write my column.

Week One, Day Two: A strange being awoke from the basement and has camped out on my recliner. It is wearing my daughter’s pajamas but has the hair of an electrocuted Phyllis Diller. It occasionally moves, makes strange noises, and ate yogurt, bananas, and a rice cake for breakfast with such speed that Joey Chestnut would be proud. More events are being cancelled and more work from home orders are announced, so any day now I expect some daytime profane and rude text messages from Eric Lorenzen instead of his usual evening ones. Fishing lures still not sorted, column can wait.

Week One, Day Three: The basset hound is beginning to suspect something is up. She has gone over five days without getting a car ride to Starbucks for a whip cream pup cup. She was caught whispering something to the shepherd about stealing the truck keys and whether or not he knows my debit card’s pin number. The mysterious creature on the recliner has learned to entertain itself with dress making templates and re-runs of Dirty Jobs. My wife runs to the grocery store so she doesn’t have to eat another frozen pizza.

Week One, Day Four: I ventured out to the take a look at the fishing lure situation, it was cold in the garage, so I did the brave thing and headed back inside to watch re-runs of Dirty Jobs. Later, I sat down to start column, had an idea to write something witty about Tubie. Like, does he need to social distance from other pool toys? Does he even know how far six feet is? I called the Visitor’s Bureau to see where Tubie is at and he is apparently down on a beach in Florida for Spring Break. Damn inflatables are ruining this country!

Week One, Day Five: Creature on the recliner complains about doing homework but thoroughly enjoyed the evening showing of “Sandlot” for the first time. In lieu of frozen pizza, wife made pork chops, stuffing, and steamed vegetables with Swiss cheese topping for dinner. She doesn’t get it, in times like these, nobody likes a show-off. Went for a drive around town. In case anyone gets really bored, I saw that someone could still buy a cigar, grab some CBD, go paintballing, get a t-shirt of course, or paint some pottery. Comparatively, I also know the places that value the dollar more than their employee’s, or anyone else’s health for that matter.

Week One, Day Six: Watched another depressing news conference that brought tears to my eyes. The damn Bears traded for Nick Foles. As if some people couldn’t be more depressed, the Bears management had a “hold my beer and watch this” moment to add to the depression and anxiety of Bears fans everywhere. Basset hound and German Shepherd disappeared for a while, found later with whip cream on their jowls and the truck is somehow parked sideways in the drive. Discussion in the house is now centered on venturing out to get Twizzlers for my mother-in-law because they go on sale this week. Seriously? I picture myself as Will Smith with my AR- 15 on one side and my trusty German Shepherd on the other, venturing out into the unknown to secure a 5 lb. container of Strawberry Twizzlers in a zombie apocalypse so my mother-in-law has a snack while she watches Blue Bloods. No thanks! Ordered licorice off of Amazon to be delivered directly to mother-in-law’s door. Column is coming along, fishing lures not so much.

Week One, Day Seven: Creature on recliner now has developed odd odor due to a very large intake of leftover corned beef and cabbage, along with a strong desire to watch ‘80s movies. Wife tells me we need to set goals during this extended time together. She suggests things like cleaning screens, windows, carpets, walls (who cleans walls?), and scrapbooking. Obviously, the strain of social isolation is starting to impact her mental clarity. I envision me locked inside the bathroom in the near future with her trying to bust the door down using a Cricut machine while announcing, “Heeerrrree’s Karen!” Besides, I was planning on sorting my fishing lures next week.

Opinions expressed by Brian do not necessarily reflect those of the Dells Events or associations Brian may have. Brian can be reached at

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