It's so contagious, the hospitals can't keep up! Everywhere you go, folks are testing positive - for hope!
Masks won't matter, unless you're the next Yankee catcher. (Are you under 40? Then you could be!) We're all gonna catch it by Feb. 17 - just three weeks and two days away - when MLB camps open. Surely, the owners and players will reach an agreement by then. They won't let such a silly thing as money stand in their way.
Forget Pfizer. Think about Pfreddie Pfreeman, whom the Yanks will surely sign - along with a top CF, a glove-wiz SS and a No. 2 starter. Hal Steinbrenner won't accept anything less than a world championship... to keep up his father's legacy.
By then, Vlad Putin will have come to his senses and realized that the world needs love, not war. We'll share a laugh, thinking about how things almost got out of hand on that Ukrainian border. In the end, it was just a game of RISK.
By then, the Chinese Olympics will have reminded everyone about the need for global harmony, rekindling calls for peace. Superpower billionaires will meet for yacht parties in the South China Sea.
By then, Covid numbers will be down to nothing. America will reach "herd immunity" through cannabis and over-the-counter medications favored by regular Joes, rather than the lab-coated needle-necks who have always hated drinking in bars, to begin with. Why did we ever listen to them?
By then, movie houses will be full, as Oscar Fever sweeps the nation. (Don't sleep on "Ghostbusters: After Life," maintaining the momentum from "Ghostbusters II.") Kim and Ye will patch things up, and Pete Davidson will be dating Suzyn Waldman. Meanwhile, The Master will be rehearsing his homer holler: "Oh, Pfreddie, you are Ready!"
Come on, people, let's meet on the beaches to watch the icebergs float by. Wall Street is ready to bloom, Buffalo can win the Golden Snowball, and we'll always have Bitcoin. I can't remember being so optimistic - well, not since maybe October of 1962. It's all coming together. Sing us a song, Adele!