The other day it occurred to me what I need during this time of isolation is a drone. I’m not quite sure what it is and I have no idea how to operate it, but I have a feeling when I get one it’ll be just the ticket to happiness. It’s not that I’m unhappy. It’s just that I want to get in step with modern technology. I visualize myself standing in the middle of the road and watching the drone circle around the neighborhood. It will be a great way to check on everyone and see who needs assistance.
Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be of much help to anyone. Although I know how to stack wood, I’ve never used a chainsaw so I couldn’t assist male neighbors as they saw limbs from trees that split during January’s ice storm. I sold all my roasting pans so I couldn’t help women when they cook a chicken or pork loin that, hopefully, didn’t come from an infected meat processing plant. I don’t have the patience to interact with unruly children or growling dogs so I’m no help there. Maybe I should rethink this idea. Unless I become a spy, a drone wouldn’t be of the slightest use to me.
Although it would be totally ineffective as a practical solution to anything, a drone might be a great source of entertainment. I don’t know how high it flies but if it clears the treetops and videos what’s happening around me, it might give me a laugh. They say laughter is good medicine and in these crazy times, everyone needs a hardy guffaw to maintain their mental stability. I think I’ll enlist my friend, Google, and find the best drone to purchase for my new hobby.
Remember the days when “drone” was a verb? We all know people who drone on and on about their troubles. We patiently listen for 15 minutes, but after that it gets boring because we all have problems. Bless his heart, there’s a fellow who calls me twice a week to “lift my spirits.” By the time he’s finished talking I’m so depressed all I want to do is crawl back in bed, pull the covers over my head and forget about everything.
People telephone to offer their support, but their conversation often drifts into negative areas. My caller constantly reminds me I’m getting old and taking care of my place is too much effort. He says I should move to the Soo and live with other old people. By the time the call ends, I’ve aged 10 years.
Now you know why I need a drone. I’m not ready for the knacker’s yard and with a little laughter a drone might delay that final destination.