Welcome To Quarantine

Hello from whatever-day-this-is of the Great Social Distancing of 2020, as many of us are locked up with our obnoxious kids skulking around the house mindlessly TikTok-dancing and complaining. I’m about to eLearn my foot up their asses. Food supplies are stable for the time being, but not nearly as stable as I once calculated—teenagers, it seems, will EAT THEIR BOREDOM AWAY if left to their own devices. Everyone is relatively healthy. The doubt is setting in, though. Morale is wavering. Tedium is spiking. The 2-year-old is transfixed by the Tennis Channel for whatever reasons, which I did not know existed on cable. Whatever. It keeps him from screeching like a fire alarm for long stretches.
So what are we doing here in this isolated, board-game-storage closet of the site? I’m not sure, exactly. What we’re NOT doing is playing board games. Nobody is. We are already in a claustrophobic tinderbox of tension. A few rounds of Stratego or Monopoly would result in legitimate stabbings or tire-iron attacks, which we do not need right now.    
As was explained to me, the Powers That Be at Indy Monthly want what people did a thousand years ago—in, like, 2008—before everything went horrible and when the internet was fun. They call it … “bloggggg-ing(?)” It stands for electronic logging? I don’t know what it stands for, but I do vaguely remember it.

Multiple posts per day from multiple people on any topic. Get other #SportsDads and girl #SportsDads in here to share their frustrating on-goings or interesting Rice Krispies Treat recipes (“THE SECRET INGREDIANT IS ABSINTHE!”). Get single people and the blessed childless folks to share their on-goings and/or make fun of all us doomed parents on the brink of madness. Get young people, old people, city leaders, TJ Warren, restaurant workers, Pippa Mann, teachers, the lady from those Andy Mohr commercials, bartenders … whoever! Anyone can write ANYTHING, or nothing at all—nothing of importance, that is. Nothing heavy if you don’t want it to be. The world is a bit too heavy at the moment.

Let this little uncontaminated biodome be the drop box for how we’re faring as a city. Let it keep us relatively sane. Maybe that involves writing about erstwhile ways in which we can help people who need it. Maybe that involves writing 400 words on why Nintendo’s RBI Baseball from 1987 is the best video game ever made. Nothing is off the table! Whatever breaks up the monotony and makes us feel even a bit less unconnected than we already feel, let’s get after it. Send us your pitches at digital@indianapolismonthly.com.

If you’re lucky enough to be quarantined at home, we all might as well be quarantined together. Or drunk. But mainly the former.