Day 52

At this point, it's dawned on me that given my age and given the amount of time this virus will still be around, I'm never going to see another live show again.

Given even the most optimistic of conditions, a vaccine is not likely to be in distribution until August 2021.  That is, if everything goes well and there's no interference, political, social, or natural.  I probably won't be the first one to get vaccinated, so I wouldn't expect a clinician to be sticking me until late, let's say December, 2021.  I'll be 67 years old.

There are those who say that at 65 I'm already too old to go to shows and they may be right.  But I don't care - I like music and I'm past the point of caring what other people think.  But 67?  After I've been away for two years?  And that's assuming that shows will resume as soon as a vaccine is available once again.  That's assuming that there's even clubs like The Earl still around and bands still playing the music that I like.

Back when I was last at The Earl in February to see a show by the up-and-coming Atlanta singer Mattiel (her song Count Your Blessings was recently featured in the FX show Better Things), I had no idea that was going to be the last show of my life.  Had I known, would I have acted different?  Would I have enjoyed the show more, or would my expectations for "the last show ever in my life" been so high that nothing could meet them?  I probably wouldn't have chosen that particular show to be my last ever.

There's a life lesson here.  Enjoy every show like it's the last one ever in your life.  Given that we're all going to die but none of us know when, any show may be our last.  Any meal may be our last - shouldn't we eat each one as if it were?  Every day, every physical act of love, every movie, every book, every conversation could be our last.

Impermanence is swift; life-and-death is the great matter.  Read this post as if these were the last words you will ever hear.