A Bedside Chat in the Coronapocalypse
Length 1:35:16 Date: Mar. 28, 2020
by Dr. Susan Block.
FDR held Fireside Chats. I hold Bedside Chats.
An upper crust “Democratic Socialist” of sorts, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1882 – 1945) was my Mom’s (and Bernie Sanders’) favorite U.S. President.
As the Golden Age of Radio began, FDR’s Fireside Chats warmed the hearts of the American people during cold and difficult times, the Great Depression and World War II.
My Bedside Chats warm you up—in a different way—as we move through the Coronapocalypse.
First Bedside Chats of Gulf War I
Indeed, Bernie’s Fireside Chats have inspired me to resurrect my own Bedside Chats which I started during the very popular first Gulf War—which was led by my fellow Yalie George Bush, Sr.—that Capt’n Max and I actively opposed.
Unfortunately, my Bedside Chats (along with our Desert Susan shows and our “Fanatic Faxes” at the time), though awesome, did not stop the first Gulf War, nor the second, nor the Perma War/occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan that continues to this day.
However, they did set the stage for Capt’n Max and I to fall in love.
Opposing war and making love go together, at least for “Make Love Not War” bonobo sapiens like me and Max.
Within a year of the infamous and horrific Iraqi “turkey shoot” along the “Highway of Death,” one of many war crimes Bush, Sr. and Bush, Jr., along with the notorious Dick Cheney, committed in that desert land, we got married, on April 12, 1992.
Interestingly, tRump, who continues the many decades-old Gulf War Crime tradition in his own quirky, flashy way (eg., assassinating Iraqi General Qasem Soleimani as we rang in the New Year), now wants to resurrect our COVID-19-collapsed economy this coming Easter Sunday which happens to fall on April 12, 2020, our 28th wedding anniversary.
Well, we shall see what fresh horror awaits us on that special date when Mr. Tomato Head fills the churches of America with feverish, sneezing Americans… if we are lucky enough to live that long.
Depressed? Try Deep Rest
So there’s a lot to chat about, and we might as well do it from bed, a nice, comfy, sexy place to chat, rest, relax, make love and chat some more.
It’s my first Beside Chat from the Coronapocalypse.
No bed at the moment. But a lot of us use couches as beds, so I’m on the couch where our in-studio guests usually sit.
Couch Potatoes Unite—six feet apart!
Whether or not we’re headed for another Great Depression, a lot of us are greatly depressed. So perhaps, especially considering the rapid person-to-person transmission of Coronavirus, the best thing to do is just settle in for a Deep Rest.
Couches are great for deep rest, even though people who spend inordinate amounts of time on them are often depressed.
But times have changed! Couch Potatoes are no longer miserable lazy bums. They’re now fine upstanding citizens.
The art of couch potato-ing in the Coronapocalypse: Don’t get depressed; get deep rest.
Do your duty by sitting on your booty… or come on, stretch out, lie down on your couch.
Unless you’re an “essential worker,” you’ve got plenty of time for that right now. Sleep is healing, and even if you can’t sleep, just resting is good for your body, mind and soul.
But don’t forget to get some exercise too!
Think about that as you #ShelterinPlace and #StaytheFuckHome… on your couch, bed, your mom’s couch, Lazy-Boy chair or what-have-you.
Dr. Bonobo’s Bedside Manner
That’s how we do our Bedside Chat. I’m stretched out on the couch, alone except for Dr. Bonobo, my newest Curious George bonobo plushie, given to me by Ana and Miguel when I had my recent sinus surgery.
Yes, just before California went into quarantine, I went into sinus surgery to alleviate my chronic sinusitis, sniffles, sneezing, coughing and occasional pneumonia that sent me into the ER gasping for breath. Eerily enough, I’ve been grappling with essentially the same symptoms as COVID-19 for two years, without having COVID-19. At least, I don’t think I had COVID-19, though I didn’t get tested for that (who has besides celebrities?). Two big differences were that I never had a fever, and I wasn’t at all contagious.
Recovery from the surgery has been somewhat painful but not excruciating (thanks to some kick-ass meds), and I’m starting to feel much better now. Dr. Tong of Kaiser Permanente did an amazing job of this somewhat delicate operation, but Dr. Bonobo’s “bedside manner” has been critical to my recovery.
It’s great to be able to breathe with my mouth closed again!
I just hope I continue to feel this good for a while, as opposed to getting punched, strangled, put back into the hospital and possibly murdered by this damn Coronavirus.
By the way, Dr. Bonobo’s surgical mask is not taking any from a real medical worker, since we used it before on a bonobo head as well as a Corona model when we didn’t know that supplies were scarce.
If you play with masks as props like we do, please recycle them!
Physical Distancing, Not Social Distancing
We do pose for a selfie where we’re about three feet apart.
Later I whip her beautiful bare bottom from a distance of maybe four feet.
Capt’n Max takes up his post behind me on my left, offering wry commentary as he puffs on a big smelly (I can smell again!) joint, perched on a high Captain’s chair overlooking the studio, maintaining his “physical distance” from everybody else
I prefer the term “physical distancing” to “social distancing” because unlike the virtual “viruses” that “infect” our digital systems, the Coronavirus is a physical bug.
Photo 1: Selfie. Photos 2-6: Harry Sapien
So there’s no reason we can’t keep socializing through “social” media, the phone, webcam, etc., as well as balconies, as long as we’re six feet apart.
Indeed, there are a lot of good reasons to socialize more than ever through our vice-filled devices, as long as we practice physical distancing, staying six feet apart from each other’s droplet-filled breath that could contain the deadly virus… even if we feel fine.
Maintaining that distance while producing a show or podcast with a crew is fairly challenging but not impossible.
Plus some of us wear masks, and Unscene Abe even wears gloves.
Messages in the Coronapocalypse
After we chat a bit, messages start coming in from our feed, kicking off with Sheena Carector who quotes Mayor of Seattle Jenny Durkan (who happens to be that great city’s second consecutive openly LGBT mayor):
“We still have almost no testing in the Seattle area. We’re running blind in many ways. We can not win if we have the hunger games, state versus state, city versus city. We’ve got to come together as a country & the nation needs to lead.”
Indeed, the Trumpus is openly disdainful of the pleas for federal help in obtaining much-needed ventilators, masks and gowns from another Democratic leader, Governor Gretchen Whitmer, telling V.P. Mike Pence not to call “the woman in Michigan” because she’s not “appreciative” or “nice” enough to him.
What a Pussy Ass Bitch (thanks for that on-point name, Chrissy Teigan)!
Seriously, this is tantamount to genocide due to tRumped-up hurt feelings. The Trumpenstein didn’t cause the virus, but thanks to his insatiable craving for personal praise, Americans are dying in Michigan, Washington, New York, California—everywhere.
Mr. Tomato Head’s ignorant and arrogant verbiage is deadly; thus our determination to keep him under gag order with an empty Corona beer bottle throughout my Bedside Chat is more vital than ever.
The little tRumpty Dumpty squeezy head we keep under gag order with one of Sunshine’s balloons tied around his obnoxious mouth.
Too bad we can only do this with tRump effigies on DrSuzy.Tv, but we do our best.
Speaking of Corona beer, this is Bonoboville’s current beverage of choice.
No, it doesn’t cause or cure the Coronavirus, but many people are staying away from it just because of the name, so we’re doing our part for the hops industry by downing a few bottles per show.
We’re not trying to mock the seriousness of the situation, though a little gallows humor goes a long way toward making it tolerable. Laughter is a mental orgasm, folks!
Plus we’re just trying to say: Don’t blame the beer!
More messages come in exhorting us to “Stay Safe,” “Stay Sexy” and “Stay Safe and Sexy,” including one from best-selling author of Wired to Create, Dr. Scott Barry Kaufman, whom I met in 2008 at Sex Week at Yale. Then Scott joined us for our 26th Wedding Anniversary and interviewed me on his Psychology Podcast about The Bonobo Way, which he called “AMAZING… The Bonobo Way shines a light on humanity’s capacity for peace.”
Self-actualizing while self-isolating is an interesting challenge.
Violet Coxxx on Cam
In keeping with the Quarantine, we don’t have any in-studio guests, enabling me to luxuriate on the couch the guests usually sit on.
But we do have guests via webcam, starting with one of our favorites, Violet Coxxx of GasMaskGirl, adorable, spankable porn star and winner of the “Best Bonobo Way Book-Spanking” and “Best Submissive” 2019 SUZY awards.
Violet’s doing fine and looking beautiful and sexy.
She’s not exactly self-isolating, since she’s an “essential worker” in her regular job, out there on the front lines helping people survive.
But she’s not shooting porn at the moment, at least not with other people.
Sexual solitaire is the way to go—in private life and in porn right now.
I encourage Violet to get into doing more solo sex scenes in the Coronapocalypse.
She does have fantasies of doing Medical Fetish doctor/patient porn. This is already a popular genre which I believe is only going to rise as the COVID-19 cases mount.
Sunshine volunteers to be Nurse Coxxx’s “patient.” Something to look forward to after the quarantine.
Meanwhile, GasMaskGirl (who met Violet through DrSuzy.Tv) has temporarily suspended shooting, not so much because of the quarantine, as because Manny, the producer, is traveling through Europe.
Traveling?! I feel like a schoolmarm scolding a missing student when I call out Manny on this obviously dangerous behavior—towards himself and every human he encounters—but I can’t just let it go, like it’s no big deal.
As a lifelong freedom fighter, I feel it’s terrible to put these restrictions on travel and even on our movements in our own neighborhoods—and we don’t know if these freedoms will ever fully come back to us—but this is the way to “flatten the curve,” as the scientists say.
Yes, airfares are cheap right now, but that’s because nobody should be flying!
I wonder if Manny is wearing his gas mask on these planes he flying around on.
I have never been so sad to be so right.
Now we’re all wearing masks… if we can get them. They’re mostly surgical masks and the more effective N95 masks, unless we’re Matt Gaetz being a wise guy.
Or is Matt Gaetz secretly a GasMaskGirl?
Seriously, this unfunny Congressional clown who opposed paid sick leave and mocked COVID-19 victims went under quarantine using paid sick leave!
I mean, humor’s great and all, but the House voting on the Coronavirus Response Package, with American lives on the line, is not the time or place for it.
If and when she gets asked to act in Coronavirus porn, Violet is down to don a sex-friendly hazmat suit and get busy.
She’s also down to do a virtual Bonoboville Communion with us.
Violet doesn’t drink and we’re running out of time, so we dispense with Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style.
We just show each other our boobies.
#GoBonobos for Breast Therapy!
It’s a pretty pared-down, but still perked-up Communion.
It certainly hits the spot in an otherwise serious show.
However, we could–and we will!–do more in future Bedside Chats.
Next time we’ll go with Sunshine’s suggestion to lick the sacred salt off our own nipples and waterboard ourselves.
That will be the epitome of safer-sex self-Communion.
Isolate! Hibernate! Masturbate!
Sex in self-isolation should pretty much be limited to the person you’re self-isolating with, like me and Capt’n Max. Hopefully, you can trust this person is not having sex, or even kissing (especially kissing) or even touching anyone else. Capt’n Max and I are together almost 24/7 mostly in the isolated back of Villa Bonobo, except when we do the show in the main studio when we maintain our six foot (or at least three foot) physical distancing rule. We’re fortunate to be able to isolate to this degree, unlike many Americans, though we’re still a bit exposed.
And all it takes is a bit of spit.
Yep, a little load of COVID-19-infected saliva is the equivalent of a bomb load in the Coronavirus War.
The rhyme makes it easy to remember, though I’m sure you wouldn’t forget it anyway.
We’ve been saying that for years, but now the authorities are finally coming around to agreeing with us.
It can even be therapeutic.
Luzer Twersky in RV Isolation
Our next webcam guests were supposed to be actress Daniele Watts and Rawkstar Chef Be*Live, “pansensual” winners of the 2019 Suzy Awards for “Most Bonobo Couple” and “Best Married Sex” and stars of our Splosh ‘n’ Art Speakeasy Journal.
But they have a last-minute family emergency. This is an all-too typical occurrence out on the edge of the Coronapocalypse, so we’re disappointed, but not surprised.
Nor are we totally derailed thanks to our network of friends and lovers #StayingtheFuckHome right now.
So we fill in their spot with another one of our favorite guests: Luzer Twersky, four-time SUZY award winner for “Funniest Fundamentalist Refugee,” not to mention a couple of “Best Actor” awards for his luminous portrayal of a Hasidic cuckold in Félix & Meira, most recently seen on Sunshine’s first show as my on-camera assistant, “Sunshine Luzer Pride” when he’d just shot No Name Restaurant in Israel, Jordan and Palestine. In this soon-to-be-released German film, Luzer plays a Brooklyn Jew who gets lost in the desert and is saved by a Bedouin.
Luzer gets around, in more ways than one.
He’s a very social single guy, but he also has his solitary side and, like so many of us, he’s currently getting more “in touch” with that aspect of himself… in more ways than one.
Up until this vile virus clamped down on the very throat of humanity, Luzer has been actively into meeting women on all the dating apps. Recently, he connected with a gal on Bumble and, with no restaurants or bars open, they agreed to meet in a park and stay six feet apart, physical-distancing.
Since they couldn’t touch, they agreed to tell each other something to the effect of “I want to touch you,” if they felt the urge.
Sounds like a potentially interesting tease, but in practice—at least for Luzer and his date—it just felt awkward and not very erotic.
This has led ladies’ man Luzer to practice more of what I’ve long been preaching: self-pleasure is better.
He even tweeted my mantra the other day, “Make love to someone you love, even if that someone is you.”
What about social accompaniment? Luzer’s had a little phone sex, but no webcam yet. For that, he might want to enhance his lighting set-up in his RV (a very nice one he bought from a longtime DrSuzy.Tv fan). Also, he might trim his Coronapocalypse-outgrown beard.
His preference for human contact in conjunction with his solo sex endeavors is sexting. And no, he doesn’t care that there’s a digital record of his texted declarations of passion.
He says they were slow to follow New York’s quarantine orders, being suspicious of government policies.
Like like many religious groups (only more so, says Luzer), believing that such policies are a threat to their religious freedom, thwarting their regular ritual gatherings and reminding them of Nazi restrictions on the Jews of the early 20th century.
Nevertheless, when the Satmar Rebbe himself was diagnosed with COVID-19, the community changed their tune and went into lockdown.
Eros and Thanatos
With no in-studio guests, there’s not much to do at the end of the show, except of course, to flog my on-cam producer, from a six-foot physical distance.
Guests or no guests, the Bonoboville crew has to eat, and Ana cooks up a feast for the people!
Photo 1: Selfie. Photos 2-6: Sunshine McCane.
We eat Ana’s ambrosia and drink our Coronas, six, or maybe three or four feet apart, obsessively washing our hands and trying, in vain, not to touch our faces.
One thing we’ve learned from this pandemic is that everyone touches their face, even Dr. Fauci.
It’s a little stressful, but fun to be doing a live show again.
Fingers crossed (but not legs) that we all stay well. Unfortunately, that is nowhere near a given, considering the way this vicious virus is spreading faster and faster, an invisible wildfire of demon microbes.
There’s no doubt I’m scared of it, but also so grateful to be healthy for these precious moments that may or may not turn into years.
Being pansensual, I love to touch, kiss and hug (almost) everybody.
That’s something I can no longer do for who knows how long?
I’m incredibly grateful there’s one person I can touch, my person of almost three decades, my “witness” to my life and times, my Capt’n Max.
Maybe it’s the panicky tension releasing, or maybe it’s the steroids that Dr. Tong has me on to help me recover from the sinus surgery (which make me wired and horny), but our post-show sex is especially orgasmic.
They say all dark clouds have silver linings. In the midst of great terror and madness, there is often a bit of pleasure, if you can find it.
But then what? In the continuing Coronapocalypse, with our loved ones and ourselves at imminent risk (if not already sick or gone), we will have to make our peace with the opposite of Eros, the spirit of sex and love, which is Thanatos, the grim but inescapable spirit of death.
I say that and I truly mean it, but I have to admit, I don’t know quite how to do it.
Meanwhile, as I attempt to negotiate my peace with dreaded Thanatos, I will go on with my resurrected Bedside Chats in the Coronapocalypse, trying my best to help you (and me) live life to the Eros-powered fullest throughout this pandemic, sharing love, pleasure, humor, wealth and solidarity (it’s The Bonobo Way)… in isolation.
© March 28, 2020 Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 213-291-9497.
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