Ebola, My Dreams

The Girl of My Dreams      by Sunny Clapp

Gorilla My Dreams            by Bugs Bunny

Ebola My Dreams              Not as funny


I mean, I take the A train. I'll keep taking it. Until they put a DO NOT LEAVE sign on my apartment door.

The strange thing about Dr. Craig Spencer, the man who lovingly went to West Africa as a Doctor without a border, is that he is specially trained to deal with public emergencies.  At Columbia University. You imagine they would teach a class in that fine program that mentions something about not getting on the subway to Brooklyn from 147th Street in Manhattan the first twelve days after you return from working closely with Ebola patients.  Seems to me.

But, you know, I've been paranoid about human error since I was born.  So I try to give people like him the benefit of the doubt. That perhaps, he knew what he was doing. If I do not do this sort of optimistic thinking, I simply could never get on a plane for fear of it always crashing.

No need to turn Dr. S into a monster. Chances are, New York City will not turn into the Zombie apocalypse. If just one or two random people from the A train or the bowling alley in Brooklyn get sick with Ebola, friends...all bets are off and I will be able to watch people walking to NJ from my roof over the George Washington Bridge. I'll take pictures.

But what if they don't let people leave? Imagine that. Will people make rafts and try to cross the Hudson? How about human chains? Or up through the Bronx...that's probably the easier way to the mainland if they close the river crossings.

Anyway, no time for a film treatment or for too much obsessing. Business as usual. I'm watching Journey You Tubes. And not just for the tight pants. I'm pretending. Back in 1979, we just had less Ebola. It was a gentler era.