Son Of Jab Talking

America loves sequels. I usually don’t but I’ll make an exception this time. This is NOT an April Fool’s joke.

I received my second Pfizer jab this morning. I’d already gotten an apology from the local medical behemoth for the needless confusion caused by one of their minions. As expected, there was plenty of space at the Morial Convention Center. I arrived early and they took me immediately.

One of the volunteers was offering to take pictures. I handed her my phone then this happened:

I never post pictures of myself, but I wanted to mark the occasion. I hadn’t worn that jacket since Carnival 2020. How do I know that? There was a koozie caught during the King Arthur parade in one of the pockets. Note the Krewe du Vieux lapel pin. One could call it my Carnival coat.

I crammed a lot of stuff into the pockets and thought I’d lost my CDC vax card, but it landed on the floor of my study. Is that a so it goes or oh well, what the hell moment? Beats the hell outta me.

I’m hoping that I won’t be Mr. Side Effects this time around. I’m glad that I got jabbed earlier than planned so I can be resurrected on Sunday. It’s just a joke. I’m a heathen but if I were a believer I suppose I’d be Greek Orthodox. And their Easter is late this year: May 2, 2021.

I always think of my favorite cousin at this time of year. She was simultaneously devout and irreverent, which is an unusual combination, but it explains why the favorite cousin thing was mutual. I miss getting a call from her every holiday. FYI, she loved Oscar the cat as much as our readers did.

My childhood memories of Easter Sunday center around food, not church. There was usually roast lamb and other Hellenic delicacies cooked by my blue-eyed Norwegian mother.

I recall decorating hard boiled eggs followed by an egg battle of sorts. I don’t know what else to call it, but it involved bashing your egg into someone else’s egg while saying, “Christos annesti.”

That’s Greek for Christ has risen; even as a kid I thought that was a fairy tale. It’s why it’s called faith.

Back to the original purpose, such as it is, of this post. I intend to keep my guard up until we reach herd immunity. I’m uncertain if that will happen in Louisiana because of all the Trumpers in other parts of the Gret Stet. Plus, we’re surrounded by the stupid sammich I wrote about last month:

Governors Hey Abbott, Edwards, and Tater Tot.

Freedom, man.

Another reason to keep one’s guard up is the latest update from Pfizer. Their vaccine is 91% effective for six months against COVID-19 and some of the other variants. If we don’t reach herd immunity by then, a booster shot might be in order.

A reminder that everyone should get jabbed when their turn comes.

Never underestimate the power of the Gibb: