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Hunkered down. Staying in our “bunker” almost all of the time, rarely venturing beyond our yard.

Oh, I walk on the road in front of our house, and once or twice a week do the same on our wonderful waterfront. All in the great out of doors, of course.

The four simple requests that have been made of us: wear masks, practice social distancing, wash our hands often, stay home unless necessity (not one’s wants or desires) so requires. Now, is that so hard?

Those things I do.

There have always been among us those who choose not to follow basic practices of safety and health protection. Always.

You know. Won’t wear their safety belts in a vehicle. Won’t wear flotation devices in a boat. Continue to smoke. Refuse to alter their eating habits, which includes lots of animal fats in their vegetables, and lots of good old Southern fried foods. As Jerry Clower once said, “If my momma had known about cholesterol, she would have fried it!”

For those of us who cut out such ways of food preparation and eating, avoid it even if eating take-out, eating southern or soul food now would probably take us off the planet, or at least feel like we were going to expire. Our digestive systems would rebel.

Those dogs you see running all about, in others’ yards; and alongside or in streets and roads (some already dead), are so unfortunate to have owners who either don’t care, or are not very smart. Another southern custom? Sad.

But, hey. Who asked me for my opinions? My observations. Most folks probably could give a rat’s rump about what I think. I get that.

Besides, it’s (so it seems) endemic to the human condition that there is always a segment of our society where some are going to do, or not do, what they damn well please, thank you. Especially so here in our beloved Southland, and especially so among older white males. In other sections of the country too, I suppose, though probably not quite as prevalent as here below the Smith & Wesson line.

We had a friend, who departed this life a few short years ago — too early it seems — who would say, “You can’t save people from themselves.” I think Buster was on to something there, friends.

Enough of all this. Thanks for indulging me such ramblings. Such opinions.

What do I know?

If we meet here again next week, let’s hope we are — you and I — well.

May it be so.