Or lockdown level 4 as we call it here in South Africa.
Unlike the old Pop Will Eat Itself classic referenced in the title of this post I can’t even scoot off to the drive through and order Big Mac and Fries to go, although theoretically I could probably arrange it via WhatsApp or some other medium to eventually arrive in a lukewarm box of misery.
I listened to a poem this morning penned by the Welsh entertainer Max Boyce. Entitled, When Just The Tide Went Out he wrote it in tribute to the NHS and frontline workers in the UK who are so valiantly fighting to keep the corona virus at bay.
After hearing it through the first time I played it for my wife, and, only a few lines in, I couldn’t stop myself from crying.
The swell of emotion took me completely by surprise, but it was acute and visceral and has left me thinking about it for the rest of the day.