. . . from going to the beach down the street from my house. This is what this dangerous place looked like this morning.
It’s been closed for the past two months, guarded 24/7 by heavily-armed cops in police cruisers parked blocking the beach entrances. It finally opened today. I walked up there this morning and was greeted with an overhead drone and an armed cop on an ATV buzzing up and down the beach giving everyone dirty looks – apparently his lazy-ass way of “enforcing social distancing rules.” I can go to the beach, but our rulers have determined that I may not sunbathe, surf, engage in “organized activities” like volleyball or playing catch, sit in a chair or cabana, sit or stand under a tent, or workout in “group fitness” with one other person. Walking, running, and swimming alone are OK. I’m sure these rules are all based on decades of peer-reviewed scientific research published in top academic journals and not just the whims of uneducated bureaucratic slobs who work for a small city government. For safety’s sake I think I’ll go grocery shopping instead today and hang out with large, close-contact crowds of panic-stricken sheep desperately searching for toilet paper.
