You are the owner of this article.
Fitz's Opinion: A cartoonist's guide to surviving the hunker bunker together
editor's pick

Fitz's Opinion: A cartoonist's guide to surviving the hunker bunker together

Fitz column mug

David Fitzsimmons

The following column is the opinion and analysis of the writer.

Thank you, Gov. Ducey for extending the stay-at-home guidelines. My wife and I are hanging in there. This morning I woke up, went to my window, threw open the sash and asked the boy down below, “Tell me lad, what day is it?”

“Why, it’s Christmas Day, sir. Or it could be Saturday. To be honest, sir, I don’t have a clue what month is.”

“Such a fine lad. Asymptomatic? Tell me is that toilet paper still in the window of the shop around the corner?”

“Why, yes it is, sir!”

I threw him a sanitized farthing in a baggie.

We are doing fine. Talk with your roomie. We discussed the divorce rate among sheltering couples last night. I looked her in the visor shield and said, “We’re so lucky we get along. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“How much?”

“Lots.”

“ Not enough.”

“I am not letting you out of the basement.”

“I’m not telling you where I hid the Lysol. I can hear your keys, Kathy Bates.”

Here is a typical good day at our “shelter”:

Wake

Breakfast

Back to bed

Binge watch Prime

Lament no one reads anymore

Lunch

Wonder why kids are so quiet

Binge watch Netflix

Lament no one reads anymore

Binge watch news

Lament no one reads anymore

Wonder what kids are doing online

Dinner

Lament no one interacts with kids anymore

Sleep

COVID-19 nightmare

Sleep

Political nightmare

Sleep

COVID-19 nightmare

Sleep

Repeat until Jupiter applies for statehood.

Simplify. Wear the same ensemble for three months.

My wife admires my choices. “I like the way your flesh has merged, on a cellular level, with your sweatpants.

“You have so many stains on your sweatpants they look like a fashion line from Jackson Pollock’s kitchen.

“I don’t need to be tested for COVID. I still can smell your sweat pants two rooms away.”

To which I replied, “I thought you should know I found the cherry-flavored lip balm you’re using right now. Yesterday. On a park bench. A bat dropped it.”

Cultivate good humor.

“Did you just trim your own hair or did a Dewalt power tool salesman give it a go at Home Depot?”

She’s so funny.

“Hello. You’re wearing the mask I discarded yesterday while shopping at Virus-Mart. And it’s on backward.”

She does get on my nerves. Caution. Knee slapping can shed the virus which can live up to three days in a guffaw.

Keep your shopping lists. They are records of this historic time. Here’s our Virus-Mart list from yesterday. Or maybe Tuesday. Is it Cinco de Mayo already?

Untouched vintage roll of immaculate toilet paper in the original plastic wrap.

(At auction? Priceless.)

Nerf Lysol Disinfectant Blaster Soaker

Ralph Lauren N95 Respirator Mask

Keg of Febreze

Pine-Sol Crystal Light

Pangolin repellent

Bleach cocktail mixer

Tide Pod samosas.

Sneezing can alarm your shelter mate. I sneezed on Thursday. Or was it 1917? Calm your roomie. “Can you believe these allergies? It’s nothing, probably hantavirus.”

Keep your chatter upbeat.

Stay connected to your neighbors. We are.

“Do our neighbors need anything?”

“Well, how would I know?”

“Your tone is hostile. Have you talked to them lately?

“I would if you’d let me out of the basement.”

“Tell me where the Lysol is.”

“Check the fridge.”

“That’s where you left your car keys last month.”

“Exactly.”

Make lists for fun. Here’s a list of our six favorite movies:

“Pandemic”

“Pandemic 2” with Vin Diesel

“Pandemic 3: Revenge of the Boomers” with Diesel, Denzel, Neeson, Willis, Freeman, Stallone, Schwarzenegger and “Sharknado”

“Dolittle,” which according to Ellen is an overlooked children’s classic about my work ethic at home.

“Outbreak” about an acne outbreak caused by evil dermatologists.

“Idiocracy” a sci fi thriller that predicted the present moment with uncanny accuracy. Nostradamus gives it two decomposed thumbs-up.

Try crafting. We made a St. Fauci candle. It’s lit.

Tomorrow we will probably paint happy faces on our masks, talk about the upcoming depression, how to dress for it, will there still be a country, how to set Joe Exotic’s Tiger Park as your virtual background on Zoom and how long will it be before the president asks if the Arizona sun is the same sun as the regular sun.

Stay safe, stay well, stay sane. The Lysol’s in the microwave.

David Fitzsimmons: tooner@tucson.com.

Catch the latest in Opinion

* I understand and agree that registration on or use of this site constitutes agreement to its user agreement and privacy policy.

Related to this story

Most Popular

Get up-to-the-minute news sent straight to your device.

Topics

News Alerts

Breaking News