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CORONATION Boyd Bauman Barack has vacated in concert with competence, honesty and grace under pressure. We’re uncomfortable with every pretense of comfort coming from the mouth of the less than potentate, upon his golden throne staring at the sun’s golden ring, his limited focus focused on economic systems, while we citizens cringe at every cough coming from our respiratory systems, become acutely aware the gaps in a nation’s care systems, the hourly employed in its systems of commerce, systematic insurance inequalities, systemic gaps in safety nets, 24-7 systems of information, misinformation. I am among the fortunate sons whose family affords our cabin fever, this stir craziness, this March Madness, this quarantine, fr. 1: a period of 40 days, the intervals of trial for Noah, Jesus, and those of us with less-direct lines, less faith in expiration dates. In a final lesson before school closings, my seven-year-old was taught the recommended duration for hand washing: the happy birthday song two times through. This learning curve is steep, but we scrub, and sing, and scrub, as if prepping for some crowning achievement, and though we are a celebratory nation, we seem to be aging at twice our usual rate.
