Bunker Funk Joy
Nobody Knows—
That today was my birthday. Great. When you get to be my age, you WANT to ignore them. My husband has been bugging me for over a week…
“What do you want to do?”
I would have loved to say, “Let’s go see the Redwood Trees!” Ha. Well. That was out. 
Lets just say, I came up with—nothing. Once upon a time, before the Wuhan virus and the Chinese communist BLM takeover, you could go anywhere. Not anymore.
My husband said, “Well, what do you want to do? It’s your day.” Wow. This was REALLY hard. What to do?
I can tell you, and I must admit. I’m BORED to death with shopping the usual BIG stores: Wal-Mart, Target, Kohls, And all the franchises you see from coast to coast…selling the same old stuff, the same old BORING things. Things with no character. No uniqueness. Just plain mass productions.
I’m even bored looking at them. And THEY have all remained open. Besides, I think Steve Jobs had it right. Wear a nice turtleneck, a good pair of jeans, comfortable shoes or shorts, NOBODY in the Mid West gets dressed up anymore.
Sometimes when I see those old forty movies, where the men and women all dress up in suits and beautiful dressed and go dancing on Saturday night…I think “What the hell happened?”
Couples don’t even dance together anymore. The kids just jump up and down. But back to WHAT TO DO?
The biggest attractions in St. Louis were closed. The ZOO was closed. The Botanical Gardens was closed. It was too hot to rent bikes, or even to hike. St. Louis summers can be brutal if your not used to the heat. 
So, we went to St. Charles. St Charles, MO, the main street is the ONLY place left in the whole St. Louis/St. Charles area where a string of about 40 shops amid various restaurants will take you back to the America we all loved. Specialty shops, of every kind. After parking on the cobblestone street, we went into one of my favorite shops, owned by a gay man, who sells…fake flower arrangements, Christmas ornaments, some clothes, little statures, every space is filled with delight.
I went in for this hand lotion that I love. It was invented by a nurse who worked in a burn unit. And of course, the size I was looking for was not in stock.
The owner of the store, followed me into the room, and I picked up the sample display jar.
“We are out of stock on that” he said. “But I can order it for you.”
“Okay, that would be great.”
And then, get this: He said open your purse and just put the sample in, in other words, he was giving me a jar almost full for free.
Now, merchants NEVER do this. This entire street and ALL it’s shops have been shut down due to the mayor. This little street of merchants and small time owners IS filled on various festival days. The 4th of July being the biggest. ALL and EVERY festival has been canceled. People come by the thousands from all over Missouri to attend and these shops thrive on the crowds.
These poor shop owners.
My husband ended up buying me a wooden cardinal bird…because he felt that we should buy something since the man was giving us that lotion for free. The stuff is not cheap.
I swear the guy gave me that free lotion because I had on my head, a USA cap with the number 45 on it. He was so kind. I got the feeling he was that way because of my hat. But he couldn’t say that now, could he?
We left the shop feeling great that someone had been kind to us. We searched for a restaurant that would be open.
We ended up eating outside at a restaurant, and all the table were full. Mostly of old ladies. It was a beautiful day. We split a plate of nachos, and an apple caramel dessert. 
The rest of the day we drove around, went downtown, and saw the empty shell of a city. Filled with BLM signs, and boarded up stores, and crazy drivers.
So, I had to wonder tonight. St. Louis, used to be a great city. It took years for it to fall apart into the sucked out hollow mess it is now. Everybody moved out, and the thugs and criminals moved in.
St. Charles is the last remaining vestibule of sanity, where they still sell paintings of George Washington and old radios. A path where Lewis and Clark started their long journey to the West. A path where the old America still remains.
And their statue was still there. 
And the streets were PACKED with cars. That was a sign that despite what you hear, people long to get outside and walk among other people. I pray that the last place to shop where you can see a hundred different products displayed with the care that only the shop owners who dreamed of having their own little place on the earth to work, survives this war.
This social distancing is insane. Clearly, it’s aim is to destroy the little guy. The little shops. The little working man.
Yes, I was born on Bunker Hill Day. President Trump was born on Flag Day. And so…
Today I decided that MY life, or what’s left of it, matters too.
I am going to start wearing that hat more often.
About
I am a nobody. If the different classes of America were color-coded, I would be in the yucky brown, one rung up from the bottom. I grew up in Naples, Florida and live near the Mississippi River now with my husband and two dogs. I am part of the slowly disappearing middle-class. I was a musician most of my life: drummer/singer/keyboards—but I retired before the plastic surgery flu hit. I have no degrees, which could be a good thing…depending on how you view our educational system. I do have three patents…but that really doesn’t make me a somebody. The one thing that is constant in my life is my OPINIONS, which i have more than perhaps even Carl Sagan could have imagined…mostly political. (yes…my ancestors were crabby buggers)
Hopefully other nobody’s will put their opinions on my site. But, if you happen to be a somebody, you’re more than welcomed to help out.
It’s my Nobody Opinion that Nobody’s Perfect, and Nobody Cares, that Nobody Knows why Nobody Wins, and when that happens, Nobody Wonders, why Nobody Flashes, why Nobody’s Fooled, but then Nobody remembers that Nobody ALWAYS Reports the truth.
You can email me at joyanna_adams@yahoo.com
Joyanna Adams 