I’m surfing Facebook.
Someone posted a video of the coronavirus social-distancing national anthem.
You didn’t know there was a coronavirus social-distancing national anthem?
Yup, it’s “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” by The Police.
Yup, in 1980 you owned that 7-inch 45 rpm record.
In the Eighties, you wore a “Synchronicity” T-shirt with its red, blue and greens swatches of paint.
Yup. the one with the little men housed in the yield signs.
You were a fan.
You went to see The Police in concert and you wore that T-shirt.
Do you still own it?
You jumped and bobbed and screamed out the lyrics to “Message in a Bottle” and “Every Breath You Take.”
You still remember some of the lyrics to “Don’t Stand Next To Me”:
It’s no use
He sees her
He starts to shake he starts to cough
Just like the old man in
That famous book by Nabakov
Don’t stand so close to me
Please don’t stand so close to me.
You never knew the title of that famous book by Nabakov.
You saw the movie “Lolita” but you never connected the two.
But you loved Sting and you loved The Police.
And now you love a woman but fear she may give you a case of corona.
She doesn’t wash her hands.
She never heard of “Purell.”
She shakes and coughs and sneezes like a tavern wench.
She thinks ,”Social distancing is a joke.”
But you can’t get her out of your head like a schoolgirl’s crush on her teacher.
But you think about her with every breath you take.
But you fear death and disease and ill health.
But how do you keep your hands off of her?
Now you are one of those little men yielding to temptation.
How do you tell her, “Either you change you habits or you’re out of your life.”
How do you tell her, “Please don’t stand so close to me?”