Miami Herald (Sunday)

Carl Hiaasen: Let’s take a COVID-19 victory tour of Georgia,

- BY CARL HIAASEN chiaasen@miamiheral­d.com

You’re bored out of your skull. The kids won’t quit fighting over the Xbox. But gas is cheap, so celebrate the premature reopening of the country with a patriotic Screw Corona Family Road Trip!

First stop is the great state of Georgia, which — despite a continuing rise in COVID-19 cases — unshuttere­d some truly essential businesses last week on the orders of Gov. Brian “I Make Florida Look Smart” Kemp.

Day One: Go bowling in Brunswick!

I know what you’re thinking, but here’s a safety tip: Squirt three drops of hand sanitizer in each of the finger holes before using the bowling balls at the alley.

If you’re out of sanitizer, an eye-dropper full of Listerine will work. Well, might work. Also, moonshine.

And those nasty rental shoes? Three words: Lysol, Lysol, Lysol.

Day Two: Get a massage in Macon!

It sounds too good to be true, but Gov. Kemp also put massage parlors at the top of his list of businesses to reopen.

You might be wondering how safe social distancing can be maintained in a small closed room where some random stranger is rubbing your body with rank patchouli oil (which, FYI — is not a cure for the virus).

When asked about the apparent risks, White House COVID expert Dr. Deborah Birx basically shrugged and said Americans are good at being “creative.”

So, in the midst of a global pandemic, what is a creative massage?

Don’t be surprised to see your Macon masseuse break out one of those telescopin­g poles that golfers carry for scooping balls out of ponds. Imagine it extended to a length of 6 feet with a portable belt sander duct-taped to the tip . . . well, hello, Dreamland.

Day Three: Get inked in Atlanta!

Georgia’s tattoo parlors are cleared to open, thanks to Kemp, while a baffled nation asks: WTF?

Surely no governor with half a brain would make such a decision unless these establishm­ents were a critical segment of the state’s economy. When you think of Georgia, don’t you automatica­lly think of peanuts, Peachtree Street and tramp stamps?

Remember what Dr. Birx said about getting creative. Before visiting an ink emporium, make sure your hazmat suit has a generous rear flap so that the tattoo artist will have ample space to wield his needle.

And get yourself a special vacation memory to take back home.

For instance, on one butt cheek: “Spring Break

2020.”

On the other: A little red, white and blue respirator.

Day Four: As your tour of CDC-defying states rolls on, stop in Charleston to browse the newly reopened flea market or unwind with some volleyball at a tiki bar on Myrtle Beach.

The governor of South Carolina says it’s perfectly safe, and he’s way smarter than all those worrywart infectious-disease specialist­s.

Day Five: Haircut and a waxing in Chattanoog­a! Thank you, Gov. Bill Lee!

Day Six: Auto races in South Dakota!

Gentlemen, wipe down your steering wheels, and start your engines.

We’re talking dirt-track fun at the Port Jefferson Speedway. It’s now open to the public, so cram your loved ones into the bleachers and pray that exhaust fumes can kill aerosolize­d coronaviru­s (Yikes, they don’t).

On your drive out of South Dakota, steer clear of Sioux Falls. It’s one of the country’s most dangerous COVID-19 hotspots, due to a massive outbreak at a pork-processing plant.

Speaking of which, you might also want to take a pass on the corndogs at the race track.

Day Seven: Vegas, baby! If Las Vegas Mayor Carolyn Goodman gets her way, Sin City will be wide open again when you and rest of the Griswolds hit the Strip. Despite Nevada’s rising number of COVID deaths and hospitaliz­ations, Goodman wants the virus itself to decide which hotels and casinos are safe.

In her own words: “Let the businesses open, and competitio­n will destroy that business if, in fact, they become evident that they have the disease. It’s that simple.”

Now that is high-stakes gambling.

If you catch a terrible contagious disease in Vegas, it won’t stay in Vegas. But if you die from it, your family still gets to pocket your winnings.

Now, if only Barry Manilow would de-quarantine at the Mandalay!

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