A cock-eyed optimist?

So dear Bobby can see a light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel, can he?

Isuppose it has to be part of a politicians DNA to be incurably optimistic. The scientists who know – (and no, I am not including the government mouthpiece Charmaine among these) – are less confident. What do I think? Who cares, I don’t pretend to have either superior scientific knowledge or to be particularly psychic. But since you ask… I would urge extreme caution. Yes even for you lucky bleeders (not literally, I trust) who have already been punctured. There is still a hell of a lot of folk out there who are testing positive to the virus, on a daily basis.

We are informed – and I have no reason to doubt this – that living through the current pandemic is the most important and impactful thing that will happen to all of us alive today. Yes, more important than experiencing a war or a revolution or seeing one of our esteemed singing stars coming last in the Eurovision Song Contest or even through seeing Italy win the World Cup… twice in my lifetime. Oh how we celebrated – and I still can’t remember where I was when I woke up with the biggest hangover of my short (at the time) life. No, this is the big one, the event to tell your grandchildren about. “Yes kids, we survived (I hope) Covid-19!”: “Wow nannu, that’s really awesome!”

Well yes it would be if we make it, but now I see that even mere survival could be in doubt. Got past one, got rolled over by mutation number two, three or 194. So before we go flinging open all the doors, currently bolted and barred to us we should just pause a moment. It would seem that the fly in the opening-up ointment are these bloody Covid mutations or variants. It would seem that just as science has got a handle on the Kent variant, a South African one pops up. And as soon as that one gets neutralised… the Brazilian option gets a hold. Then on through the Indian, Canadian, Nigerian and Angolan variations. Which makes me wonder whether we’ll also experience Latvian, Mongolian, Tunisian and a myriad other variations on a viral theme? I’m told that this is fairly typical viral activity. As soon as an effective vaccine for one strain is developed, the virus finds a new way to infect cells by mutating to a new strain. So I guess we’ll just have to soldier on and keep (metaphorically) taking the top-up jabs.

And now… (as the Monty Python troupe used to say)… for something completely different.

Last week a very good friend of mine called me. We chatted for a while on the phone about the prospects of Inter winning Serie A. You know… important stuff like that. Then the chat got around to discussing the recent demise of Queen Elisabeth’s husband, Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. A man with quite a strong link and affection for the Maltese Islands and who had his funeral yesterday week. Now my friend is not a callous man, but he informed me that upon seeing his wife sobbing as she watched the ceremony on TV, far from empathising with her, he let fly with: “What the hell are you blubbing for; it isn’t a royal wedding, it’s only a royal funeral.” You couldn’t make it up.