ROBERT TULK
The Beacon

    The flu was always a big thing here on the Northeast coast. Now I know it went all around the Rock. But I live here not there.
    They put this flu in a bad light. Now if it’s so bad, why name it after a good animal? A swine is a pig, and a pig is pork chops. I’m telling you, the only thing you can get better than pork chops are moose steaks. And know what, it’s a wonder we don’t have the common cold named for the moose.
    I wonder, did the sale of pork chops go down? I remember when the Chicken Flu was on the go. Chicken lovers stop eating chicken because they were afraid of getting that terrible flu. Well, I can’t blame them for that. Chicken is one living creature that is not fit to eat. In my opinion, it was better to name the flu after an Eider Duck than a chicken.
    But we always had the influenza disease here. I remember when we used to cough and hack our way over to the school, and did the same thing coming back. When we arrived at death’s door that’s when the torture would start. Now remember, our parents tortured us out of love not hate.
    First there was the Minard Liniment. Now, the old people used this for just about everything. From the colds to headaches to the aching limbs. A whiff of that from the bottle would clean your sinuses up in jig’s time. Now, I have no idea what jig’s time is but that’s what the old people use to say.
    If we didn’t get cured in a day, then came the old reliable for children — the liniment candy. Our parents would mix liniment and molasses together in a small dipper. Then they would set it on the stove to boil. After it boiled, it would be put somewhere to cool off. Then it would become hard as rock. All we had to do was break it into small pieces and pop a piece into our mouth. In five minutes, you could feel the steam whistling from your ears. Usually this got rid of any germs in our bodies, but if it didn’t there was worst to come. Yes, we used to be cook alive.
    First, our parents would come with this heating rub. There was a number of kinds, but Vick’s Vapour Rub was the most popular. This heating rub would be smeared over our bodies. Then we would we wrapped in layers upon layers of blankets and sheets. When this job was finish, we would be put to bed with layers upon layers of quilts upon us. Then they would leave us to cook in our own juice.
Know what? I prefer the needle.
    But not all would. When I went for mine, there were a number of people there. So, trying to settle my nerves while I was waiting, I watch them go for their shots.
    A good many bloody big men walked proudly to the shooting table and bared their shoulder. But as soon as they saw that needle, a transforming took place. They closed their eyes tighter than a fiberglass boat. Then their face would twist up like one of those flatfish in the net. They might be still there, sitting on the chair if the nurse didn’t tell them they could go.
    With the women it was a lot better. They bared their shoulder, put a big smile on their face and calmly look in the distance. Getting a needle didn’t faze them a bit.
    I might be wrong but I’ll say, getting a vaccine is just a way for some businesses to make money. Someone got paid for making that vaccine. Someone got paid for delivering it. But I must say, the ones who jabs that needle in us should get paid a lot more. They are so beautiful, their smiles can turn the Swine flu into bacon.
But there is one thing I can’t figure out. Jerome Kennedy stood on the floor of Confedafool Building saying this group or that group is getting the vaccine. But never did he say that the people who were locked up in the Lakeside Hotel already had theirs. Now who said that crime doesn’t pay.