Hunting/ Gathering in the Time of Coronavirus

I am now part of the hunter-gatherer society. Don’t worry, I am not roaming around with a weapon in search of a deer to shoot. But two days ago, I did forage for food. Since we are senior citizens in the time of coronavirus that means I ordered groceries from Whole Foods from my iPad.

Finding the items we wanted and clicking on them to put them in my virtual cart took approximately an hour. Some of that had to do with the slowness of my iPad or of our internet. Or both.  I’d rather not admit it, but perhaps some of it also had to do with my clumsy fingers.

An example--it took multiple clicks, at least for me, to get an item in the basket. Then I got to the screen that said which items were not available. And I had to go back and see if I could find something else to substitute. This also took me substantial time but I was proud of myself for being so capable as a coronavirus virtual-shut-in.

The real issue occurred when I went to select a delivery or pick up time. No time slots appeared available for the next several days. And I, the virtual shopper, could not proceed to any later dates. The message appeared, “check back regularly and see if any times or dates open up in the future”. So that is what I did.

In between anything else I was doing that day I checked my Whole Foods order to see if any delivery or pick up slots had opened up. By dinner time I was about to quit checking when suddenly a delivery slot for that night between 9 and 11 PM opened. I immediately scooped up the available slot, added a tip and danced around our kitchen. I was a successful gatherer in these times of coronavirus!

I also accepted Amazon’s suggestion that I sign up for text messages on the status of my order since it included fresh items that needed to be refrigerated immediately upon delivery.

I found my spouse puttering around another room and shared my success story. He did not mimic my happy dance. Instead he responded,

“What were you thinking? Who wants groceries delivered at 11PM at night?”

I refrained from complaining how he had failed to notice I’d spent the whole day trying to get these stupid groceries for pick up or delivery. Instead I said,

“We do. Be happy you are married to a successful

gatherer.”

Luckily, we have those kinds of open, honest, spousal communications.

Later that evening, as we made and ate our dinner from what we already had in store, I received numerous text messages. Some told me about the status of other Amazon packages I had ordered over the last few weeks. Some for other family members or friends, some for us.

Interspersed with the truly boring details of other orders, such as that two bottles of shampoo and contact lens solution were getting ready to be shipped in a few days, I also received real time details on where our fresh food delivery driver was. I was able to follow his or her route around a nearby and then our neighborhood.  Earlier than originally promised and at about the same time our collie’s ears perked up, I received a notice that our groceries had been delivered. Our collie is at least as good, actually better, than the Ring Doorbell in letting us know someone or something is on the porch.

We waited until the driver was no longer on our stoop but safely back in his or her car to open the front door and start carrying the stapled, heavy- duty paper bags into our kitchen.

We emptied everything from the bags, and since we weren’t sure what might be contaminated, washed our hands repeatedly in the process as we unpacked and put groceries away.

As we did so I was a little startled to see what exactly had and had not been delivered. No eggs, even though I had ordered two dozen and had not gotten a notice that they were not available. Or at least I thought I had. Almost four pounds of ground beef were delivered even though I thought I’d ordered one pound. Two GIANT boxes of fresh spinach when I thought I’d ordered one box. But not some of the other vegetables I remembered ordering. Four packages of Italian sausage when I thought I’d ordered one. One can of crushed tomatoes, even though I thought the notice had said they were out of crushed tomatoes. And so on.

As we assessed the situation, we decided it would work out. We froze most of the meat. And looked up recipes for fresh spinach and Italian sausage or ground beef.

As I was wiping down all surfaces with my improvised disinfecting method, a paper towel soaked in rubbing alcohol, a thought occurred to me. Perhaps Whole Foods had not erred at all. Perhaps a more likely a scenario was that my multiple clicks on my iPad had instead resulted in the mass quantities of some items, as well as the absence of other items.

As we eat spinach with every meal during the next few weeks, I’m hoping our teeth don’t turn green. I also suppose I need to reassess my self-rating as a coronavirus-gatherer extraordinaire.

Maybe next I’ll take up hunting.

 

 

Redbuds and Dandelions

As if by secret signal known only to them, the redbuds burst into color one day last week. Appearing in between tall trees, by the wave of springtime's fairy godmother’s wand, the bright purple blooms suddenly are everywhere: in clumps and copses, on manicured lawns, and in the midst of deeply wooded parklands. Some are tall and gangly like teenage boys. Others, pruned and shaped, sit more like well-endowed, plumpish matrons, smartly attired and residing amongst pristine surroundings.

This week pink dogwoods have joined the color parade, along with yellowish-white dogwoods that in time will be more of a true cream. Purple phlox and bright yellow daffodils, along with the host of other early flowers, brave enough to face the occasional evening lows in the ‘30’s, are scattered everywhere. Along with perky dandelions and other wildflowers. Or weeds as some would call them.

Tall trees are covered with yellow-green foliage that looks from a distance like a Monet. Upon closer inspection, the “foliage” is not new leaf growth but little seed pods so delicate they quiver in the slightest breeze, giving a blurry impressionist view of pale chartreuse. From our sunroom windows I daily calculate by the foot the growth of underbrush. A week ago, our neighbors’ houses were fully visible. Now, only the rooftops can be spied. In a month’s time or less I will live in the midst of a forest.

The female cardinal who has tapped on our windows incessantly for the past months finally has quit. The ornamental cherry tree she had inhabited while tapping on our dining room and study windows now looks like a virginal bride, covered in full, fluffy-white blooms. Perhaps the blooms help Ms. Cardinal see that the window is only a reflection and not another female cardinal she needs to furiously run off. Or perhaps there’s a better explanation, she now is busy pursuing more urgent tasks, such as nest-building.

The days are almost summer-like at times. Then other days I pull out my winter coat even for a park walk on a sunny afternoon. A woodpecker on the roof has taken over the tapping for Ms. Cardinal.  Each day we check our collie for ticks. Despite flea and tick preventives, we often pull at least one from her thick fur. “Aa..ah..ah..choo…" Bless all us allergy sufferers. It’s springtime in the Ohio Valley. Wish it would last forever. 

The Redbuds are Back

Yesterday I spotted the first redbud of the season. Today they are everywhere in the park near us. It’s like Momma use to say, “one of you does something you all want to do the same thing.” 

Last year I posted about the first redbuds I saw. This year it’s three weeks earlier for my first redbud sighting. Perhaps the earlier date is the result of climate change. Perhaps it’s a seasonal oddity. Or maybe its nature coming back in full force with springtime when we need it most.  

I’m reposting my redbud essay and photo from last year. Hope you enjoy.

Beauty Tips in Time of Coronavirus

I’ve heard tell our President has grown tired of the coronavirus and may have cabin fever from his “isolation” in the White House. I can relate to having cabin fever—so much so that I’m thinking of trying some new or old beauty methods to keep it interesting, while my spouse and I are stuck at home. These tricks might be useful—or amusing. Just know, I assume no liability if you decide to try any of them at home. 

Decades ago, I used a spoonful of plain or strawberry yogurt for a face mask. It worked so well I even used it for a clear, rosy glow on our wedding day. This was so long ago that brides didn’t generally go for pre-wedding salon appointments. Now that salons are closed in many places these at-home techniques could prove useful or at least diverting again.  

I also recall from my youth using fresh lemon juice as a hair rinse to keep my hair shiny and blond. The lemon rinse made me smell a bit like a fruit drink and attracted flies until I belatedly realized I needed to rinse it out.

Some friends used beer to set their hair and large, empty, orange-juice cans to get smooth, flat hair. The styling technique had the side effect of attracting fraternity boys. You will need to judge for yourself how these methods will be received by your current living companions. 

As far as hair coloring techniques, if you can’t go to the salon and are open to trying new methods, I have a few ideas. Did you know…Alexander the Great used saffron to make his hair shiny and orange?

Diversionary topic, discuss amongst whomever is in your household: Has Trump heard of this trick to make his hair match his face? How would that look? And what is it with powerful leaders and their interest in turning themselves orange?

Anyway, when I mentioned this idea to my spouse as a possible beauty trick he replied, “Do you know how expensive saffron is? Who do you think you are? Alexander the Great?” I replied, “I’m considering it because I’m worth it.”  I didn’t think I better mention my using his stash of beer as a setting lotion. 

On pantry diving, I have discovered no saffron so it’s presently a moot question. But I did find cumin, red pepper and also Hungarian paprika. Any one of which might temporarily restore the red highlights of my youth. But I’m afraid they might also irritate my scalp. So, if anyone out there wants to try some spices or herbs as haircoloring please let us all know how that turns out.  

In the range of serious tips, I’ve read that both mayonnaise and olive oil are wonderful hair conditioners. And I think mayonnaise also is supposed to suffocate head lice. Though with restrictions of movements and social distancing, the spread of head lice, common colds, and even air and water pollution are bound to be decreased.

Just be careful if you decide to use any of these techniques in your home. You don’t want to slip on olive oil in your shower or turn your bathtub orange.  If Trump succeeds in vanquishign the virus by Easter, as he confidently predicts he will, you can always cover your orange or strangely glossy hair with an Easter bonnet.  

Staying Busy in the Time of Coronavirus

There are still plenty of things to keep the average stay-at-home senior busy.

My plans for the typical day include reading the paper, thinking about what we can put together for dinner, and engaging in one or more of my new hobbies, including:

·      Calling friends I’d ordinarily see

·      Calling friends I don’t ordinarily see

·      Writing and blogging

·      Exercising

·      Trying homemade beauty techniques or beauty products stashed in the backs of cabinets

·      Taking photos of plants and flowers inside and outside our house

·      Ironing shirts that ordinarily go to the cleaners. (Just kidding—I haven’t gotten that bored yet.)

·      Scrounging back of cupboards, closets and drawers for useful, edible or amusing items

·      Checking online to see what is available. For example, is toilet paper available online and if is, is it a recognizable brand or something possibly weird? Are the 5 star reviews or 1 star reviews to be believed? So far it appears there are some exotic brands available. I have no idea what they cost, how long shipping takes, or whether they are the best thing since "Don't squeeze the Charmin" commercials raised American expectations for tp or disintegrating tissue paper. As our modest supply dwindles this will have to move from hobbies to chores list. 

·      Watching and trying to identify birds I see in our yard. My spouse’s search of his closet netted binoculars which I plan to use to help in this pursuit. So, neighbors, please know I am not spying on you if you happen to see me looking out the window with binoculars. But be on notice to not engage in any odd backyard behavior like burying bodies wrapped in rolled carpets. These are scary times. I will call 911 more quickly than Jimmy Stewart sent Grace Kelly to check on the funny goings outside his Rear Window.

Little, Unexpected Joys in the Time of Coronavirus

Over the weekend and while we are both feeling healthy, we made a quick stop at a neighborhood grocery to pick up some fresh produce, and whatever staples were available.

 

I found tangerines, bananas, milk, the last package of fresh meat—chicken thighs--and a few other pantry items we were getting low on. I was looking for toilet paper—none found, and also Cheerios or rice Chex since I have a gluten allergy and cannot eat a lot of cereals. To my surprise, while there were no regular Cheerios there were all sorts of different varieties: cinnamon apple, honey nut crunch, raspberry crunch (ok, I made that one up but there were some other very strange ones I don’t recall) and also chocolate Cheerios.  

I had never even heard of chocolate Cheerios. In ordinary times, even if I had, I wouldn’t have considered buying them. I was reasonably sure they were more expensive, higher in calories, sugar, and other non-healthy ingredients not found in ordinary Cheerios. But chocolate! I don’t know about you, but chocolate causes me to feel happy, at least in a temporary burst. Must be endorphins or serotonin or some other chemical reaction because I suddenly feel like I’m in love and all is right with the world, even if for just a few minutes. So, I gave into my inner child. After all, these are difficult times for all of us.  

I have eaten a lot of Cheerios in the last few years after my celiac disease diagnosis. They are reasonably healthy, easily transportable and, even if a bit boring, they are a quick breakfast or snack solution for me. But I had just about gotten to the point I could not look at Cheerios without wanting to gag.  I do not want to cause chocolate Cheerios to become as scarce as toilet paper, so I will only say they are a fun variation in breakfast foods during difficult times. But, if you should find some, please buy just one box from the shelf and leave the rest for someone who might also really need a chocolate high right now. Like me.

Guilt in the Time of Coronavirus

Right now, people around the world are suffering from the coronavirus. Some are desperately sick. Others, the first responders and medical personnel, are trying to care for the sick, make do with shortages, and make the best decisions they can, thinking selflessly of others first.   

Sadly, a large number of people are mourning deaths of loved ones from this pandemic. Some people are scared and depressed as they follow the news of the deaths and illnesses. Many isolated people are lonely. Some people have pre-existing conditions that are going untreated, illnesses besides the coronavirus. Both my husband and I have postponed, or had postponed for us, preventive checkups for previous cancers, dental and eye doctor appointments. Not to add to the fear, but there is no doubt that many likely have heart disease, cancer, and any number of other conditions that are not being detected but lie in wait for them. 

Some people have stepped up to make masks at home or other protective gear in creative ways. Young people have offered to shop or run errands for others who are at greater risk. Teachers are posting lessons, reading books and offering other learning opportunities on Facebook. People can and have pulled together to help during this crisis in amazing ways.  

There are the lucky ones, who, so far, have avoided serious illness. Since tests are not available, they have no way of knowing whether they might be contagious. They are stuck at home, trying to do their level best to not go crazy during these stressful times. And, those of us raised on Catholic or other religious or cultural guilt, feel that deep in their bones we should be doing more.  

My sewing thread collection is over forty years old, as are my sewing skills. If push came to shove, I probably could fashion a mask on my 47-year-old sewing machine. It wouldn’t be pretty and it wouldn’t likely hold together for long. I also wouldn’t wish that on anyone if they had another choice. Now that I’ve seen reports of groups with actual sewing skills making thousands of masks and I also saw masks being sold on Amazon today at reasonable prices, I’ve decided I need to continue to put my guilt to work in some other way more suited to my talents, such as they are. Posting blogs that I hope are a bit humorous and diverting for others facing these difficult times is what I have chosen to continue doing. My hope is that each of us will continue to do all that we can to help take care of ourselves and each other.

Love, Beauty, and Goofiness in the Time of Coronavirus

Somehow the coronavirus has cured any writer’s block I’ve had over the past year. You will have to decide for yourself whether that is a good thing.

Just about a year ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was one of the lucky ones, a lumpectomy, actually two surgeries, since the first didn’t get clear margins, followed by a bad infection that landed me in the emergency room, followed by twenty-three radiation treatments and a lot of fatigue. But I eventually made a full recovery and returned to normal activities. At that point I thought a lot about writing on thoughts of

But I didn’t write. Instead, I self-imposed a new test for publishing my musings—Do I have anything to say that hasn’t already been said, and probably better?  By that standard, the answer always seemed to be “no”.

 Now, I have another reason to feel grateful and lucky—that my diagnosis and medical treatments did not occur during a pandemic. I’ve also found my writer’s block “cured”, and not just because I have more free time on my hands. Truth be told, as a retired person, I have plenty of free time.

But now I again feel the need to share the thoughts rambling around in my head. Ordinarily, those thoughts do nothing but ping from one side of my brain to another. Maybe some come out in conversations. But a lot of them are lost into my synapses that comprise my increasingly short-term memory.  

Perhaps my so-called insights with a mix of goofiness do not seem to be too excessively represented in the things I read. Or maybe I need to write based on my need to connect.  Or maybe it's a little of both.

Today I listened to the New Yorker podcast, “How Humanity Survives Pandemics” where they discussed the natural human desire to connect. We are a social species. One reporter said she’d received more phone calls in the last week than she had in the last year, some calls from friends she had not spoken to in a year.

 

Recently, I also called and emailed friends and relatives I hadn’t been in contact with for a while, thinking to myself it would be good to check on them. Such calls and emails probably are at least as good for me as for them.  

 

I love to see friends and even acquaintances in large, happy gatherings. Such gatherings energize me. I also love small gatherings like dinners or movie nights with friends or family. Those types of groups give me a warm energy as well. But I also love spending time at home with just my spouse and dog. I think those times restore my energy levels.

I’m pretty sure I would not love being alone without a spouse, friend, or pet. I hope I do not have to find out what it is like to be completely alone. That’s one of the aspects of this pandemic that seems the worst.  

Dying from a disease like the coronavirus must be awful but perhaps not among the absolute worst ways to die.

 

Optional diversionary goofiness—compete online, by social media or other ways, to see who can come up with the most more awful ways to die. I have to give acknowledgement to my granddaughter for this particular goofiness diversion. She seems to have inherited a dark sense of humor from someone or several someones in the family. 

Back to what in my opinion makes this highly contagious virus particularly awful are the stories of people dying in isolation without the contact of loved ones to comfort them. Also, with funerals cancelled for the same reason, survivors cannot share hugs and tears of comfort.  

I’ve seen the recommendations for self-quarantine for those infected—no close contact with family or other household members. My spouse and I would both be able to follow those instructions if needed to keep the other safe. Our collie dog, not so much. She has no sense of social distancing. And as social a species humanity may be, some canines are even more so. I hope that is not a bridge we need to cross.  

The same New Yorker podcast mentioned some of the remarkable ways people have taken to lift their and other’s spirits in these difficult times: In China and Italy, group singing from balconies (ah, to be non-infected and on stay-at-home orders in an Italian neighborhood of opera singers). In Iran, doctors and nurses of both genders, after donning full-protective-coronavirus-battle array, dancing together, an activity normally forbidden by the Ayatollah.  

I think you can mark all of these activities in the “goofiness” category. But in a very good way in a time sorely in need of goofiness.  So, adapted from the WWII British motto, I propose a new slogan:

Keep Calm and Carry-On but Go for Some Love, Beauty and Goofiness.

Crazy Ways of Coping in the Time of Coronavirus

Schools are closed in Kentucky as in many states. Restaurants and bars also are closed here. Salons and gyms were ordered closed yesterday.  Many other venues we’d ordinarily go to are closing to help slow the spread of this particularly contagious and particularly deadly virus.  

We’re told to exercise social distancing, self-quarantine if we may have been exposed. And we’re told by our “youngsters” to “Stay the f---at home”. At least they care. Or they’re just relishing the chance for turn-around in giving unsolicited advice. No, I’m going with they care.  

So how are we to cope? This is a time of coming up with novel strategies for a novel virus.  

Many have responded by rushing to all still-open stores by buying hand sanitizer (Ok, that makes some sense.), toilet paper (Not really so sensible in huge bulk quantities unless your home cooking is really bad), and firearms (Just crazy. The virus is too small to effectively eliminate with bullets and the virus has yet to turn any victim into a brain-eating zombie.)  

Some folks also have rushed to hair salons for color and cuts. Before they have to stay home for weeks. I’ve got to ask—does anyone you live with not know your hair grows and is a different color than given by nature?  

This particular behavior brings to my, somewhat-warped mind an old episode of I love Lucy. Lucy and Ricky who, in the midst of one of their more nasty squabbles, have divided their home into “his” and “hers” sections. Somehow, Lucy got the half with the kitchen and Ricky got the half with the bathroom. Lucy, uttered, in what was shocking dialogue for the times (remember this was the 1950s), “There’s going to be a lot more brown roots around here.” 

But enough with remembrances of simpler times past. Though if you can find I Love Lucy re-runs on a TV station or streaming, it surely will be a mood-lifter.  

Given that the CDC now recommends medical professionals caring for coronavirus patients who have run out of masks use scarves or bandanas we can all use some creative coping mechanisms. Maybe that's why Trump's latest new medical person-in-charge, Dr. Deborah Brix, as she stands silky shoulder-to-shoulder with the President and Vice President as they emphatically stated at today's news conference there is no shortage of protective equipment or tests, wears all those silk scarves--for when the masks run out at the White House.

 

I promised some coping mechanisms for some coronavirus problems. I didn’t say any of them would actually work. But maybe they will give you a laugh. Or, who knows, maybe some of them will work. So here they are:

·      Order a clear, plastic, bubble umbrella as a self-protection device for when you absolutely have to go out shopping. If nothing else it will help with the social distancing as other shoppers will decide you are a risk because you are half-crazy. I’d suggest spraying with cleaner or disinfectant when you get home. I don’t know what the CDC guidelines are—probably still “Stay home.” But, if you order a bubble umbrella, at least on rainy days, even in non-apocalyptic times, you can use it as just an umbrella.

·      Order a bidet toilet seat—or add-on bidet sprayer for when the toilet paper runs out. I’ve heard the Japanese swear by these devices as much cleaner than toilet paper. If you have unlimited cash or credit, go for the “Rolls-Royce” model with not only water but warm air dryer, night light and heat. If you go for the top of the line, I may break my self-imposed, staying-home mantra to come visit your home—I promise with trusty bubble umbrella in place—to check it out.  

·      This one’s for those kiddos stuck at home and their parents who think half-crazy would be an improved state of mind, why don’t the cable channels, network channels, or whomever start showing school lessons? After all, not everyone has high speed internet but most people have a TV.  Grade school classes could start early in the mornings. Afternoons, evenings and the wee hours would be reserved for high school and college-age folks. Teachers could assign tests or papers based on the lessons and collect them at some future, theoretical time when it’s safe to congregate again. In anticipation that many students would fail to complete the assignments, creative writing assignments could be doled out to explain what happened to their homework.

·      Start fun, family cooking projects to cook from items in the back of the pantry. For example, yesterday I made gluten-free bread from a package that had been in the pantry for, oh, five, maybe ten years. I knew there was something not quite right when the yeast failed to fizz even a little bit despite the recipe saying it would. The final result was not so much bread as matzah or communion wafer-loaf. But a fun project that amused me for several hours, including scrounging until I found an old bottle of cider vinegar, and the eventual cleanup of every bowl and measuring cup we own.

·      Discourage ill-advised spousal cooking plans. For example, my husband, ordinarily an excellent and thoughtful cook, suggested his own cooking from the back of the pantry project—spicy, black bean casserole. The thought of ingesting that and the likely intestinal distress from my gastritis (and had he forgotten there’s a toilet paper shortage going on), gave me emotional distress. If he follows through, I may eat the rest of my left-over project—stale, gluten-free, flat bread. Hmm…maybe with peanut butter or jelly? Or canned tuna? Time for another pantry check. And an internet search on do-it-yourself gel polish removal. Maybe with something I find in the back of the pantry.

Book Club in the Time of Coronavirus

The Big C is no longer Cancer but Coronavirus. No doubt these are unprecedented circumstances and scary times for most of us, prompting widespread closures as well as crazy panic buying. Not only toilet paper but all paper supplies are either nonexistent or in short supply at our local grocery. But gun sales are up.

 

Really??? Maybe we should call this the Go-Crazy Virus. Coronavirus generally does not cause diarrhea. But people are preparing to guard their toilet paper stashes with deadly force?

 

There is reason for staying calm. Although Coronavirus is very contagious, about 80% of infected people will have mild symptoms at worse. On the other hand, there is reason for taking precautions. Those over age 60 or with pre-existing health conditions are at much greater risk of dying from this virus.

 

No one seems to know why advanced age makes it so much more deadly. That in itself is scary. But it’s also scary to admit that being over 60 is advanced age. Is God, nature, or something more sinister trying to weed us boomers and oldsters out?

 

When I started writing this piece last week, Kentucky had 6 cases. At that time, I had read an Atlantic article which made a good case that early stage quarantine is the only way to stop the spread of this virus. Today, I read that some cancer surgeries are being postponed to save room in hospitals for the expected tsunami of Coronavirus cases. So much for our early stage measures to stem the tide of the new and scarier Big C.

 

With all the home quarantine, social distancing, and venues of amusement closing now, here’s a new game—line of Presidential succession and age/health lottery. How far down the line do you have to go to find someone under 60 who also looks sort of healthy and is likely to survive COVID19?

 

I think you get to Mark Esper, Secretary of Defense. But it’s a judgment call—we likely all can agree Secretary of State Pompeo doesn’t look healthy. But Vice President Pence is only 60 and looks healthy-ish. I personally thought he was older. Must be his white hair.

 

What happens if Trump dies from the novel Big C, Pence becomes Prez, then gets sick, and another VP who is young and healthy is installed before Pence succumbs.

 

Or, what happens if Trump and Pence both quickly succumb to the virus?  Nancy Pelosi is next in line—but what if she is infected? All of these people are in public life and until very recently have been shaking lots of hands, mingling in crowds, and the like and are well past the age of 60. Any or all of them could become infected and are at higher risk of dying.

 

Does the Speaker of the House even have to be a member of the House? Something in the back of my head said no. When I looked it up, I found the back of my head notion is correct. The House of Representatives, now controlled by Democrats and whose average age is slightly under 60, could pick Kamala Harris or Mayor Pete to be Speaker and then she or he would become President.

 

Or maybe Kiefer Sutherland ends up Prez after all. I know—I’ve gotten silly at this point. Too much time on my hands. But if you’ll bear with me, I have another question? Will he be Invincible Jack Bauer from 24 or the ordinary mortal from “Designated Survivor”?

 

And what happens to Democratic candidates if the same death surge of oldsters occurs? Bernie and Biden are both in their late 70’s. Prime targets for a negative outcome from this novel virus. Are we left with Tulsi Gabbard? Even if she’s a Russian plant at least she dresses well.

 

 Anyway, Coronavirus Lottery could make a good parlor game if we were all still able to meet in our parlors. But the latest guidelines say no more than ten in your parlor. Or you can play it by text or facetiming.  Maybe this is a game app waiting to be developed.

 

Or, it could be the basis of a movie script, which we might end up having to stream rather than see in theaters. By the point in time when a movie is released about the new Big C will the worst of this pandemic be past? Will it have mutated where it’s killing most of humanity? Or will a new pandemic have taken its place?

 

I was predicting it was only a question of time before the MAGA groups and Democratic rallies spread the disease even further. But the President and Presidential candidates alike are taking steps to cancel those large groups. Governors across the country are starting to do the same.

 

Now, there are 25 cases in Kentucky and the Governor, in a very sensible and sober response, similar to some other governors, has closed all restaurants and bars across the state.

 

President Trump has been exposed to more than one person who is now confirmed to be infected. Notably, Trump was finally tested, even though he did not quarantine or even maintain safe distances with other people during the interim.

 

News reports state the White House says Trump has tested negative. But since he lies about everything, why should we believe him? Maybe it’s true and maybe it’s a lie. Also, it’s particularly hard to assess Trump’s health status when the color of his skin keeps to an unnatural shade of orange at all times.   

 

Last week my book club met with about 8-10 members, most of whom are a bit younger than I and are still working. At the time there were no warnings about avoiding small gatherings such as this. Nevertheless, before the meeting, planned for a restaurant, I shared the recommendations from the Atlantic article for early social distancing.

 

My fellow book lovers were all, “Meh, I’m more at risk at work than at book club.” One even has a compromised immune system. So, rather than look like the only coward, I went. We shared discussions of the book, a couple bottles of wine and also of hand sanitizer, but no common appetizers. And none of the usual hugs. Was it safe or foolish to get together?  Or more like playing music on a sinking Titanic? Who knows?

 

A large gathering in Louisville in about the same time frame, a fund-raiser at the art museum, now has resulted in a number of Louisville’s and Kentucky’s movers and shakers (the Governor ,the Mayor, a Congressional Representative to name a few) needing to self-quarantine and/or be tested after two attendees were subsequently diagnosed with the coronavirus.

 

For my retired spouse and me, most of the events we had planned over the next month, plays, concerts and dinners, now have been cancelled. We are cancelling non-urgent doctors’ appointments as the experts recommend for people over age 60.

 

We are told we will likely have scarce medical resources if we do not successfully slow the spread (or flatten the curve as the statisticians like to say) of the virus. If I hate to admit that age 60 or 65 is advanced age, I even less like the idea of perhaps rationing ventilators based on age, as they apparently have had to do in places such as Italy. In China the sickest people reportedly never made it to hospitals so the rationing wasn’t as much of a problem.

 

Sure, I’ll give up a ventilator for my children or grandchildren. But for some abstract millennial? Yes, that might be fair but not particularly palatable.

 

I have to wonder why we can’t manufacture more ventilators in the time before we desperately need them. During World War II, automobile and other factories were re-tooled to manufacture B-24s and tanks. Couldn’t we pretty quickly do the same for necessary hospital equipment? If hand sanitizer can be produced by New York prisoners, surely masks, ventilators, and gowns, could be produced in adequate numbers by manufacturers of somewhat similar products. At the same time, pop-up hospitals could be designed and built by the Corp of Engineers.

 

We also need to start preparations now for the November election. A federal law requiring mail-in ballots could be passed with sufficient appropriations to cover the cost. State election registries have the lists of registered voters and their addresses. Why not print mail-in ballots with the name and address of each registered voter on the reverse side? On-site drop off points as well as a mail-in option would avoid close contact by voters and would assure a paper record for any ballots that might be challenged.

 

With leadership and cooperative efforts these problems can be solved. America, like the rest of the world now has a common enemy. It’s not an attack from another planet but it may as well be. We should mobilize as if we were engaged in a war for the world. We are. And we should stop hoarding toilet paper and guns. Neither will save you from this virus.

 

Book Club in the Time of Coronavirus

The Big C is no longer Cancer but Coronavirus. No doubt these are unprecedented circumstances and scary times for most of us, prompting widespread closures as well as crazy panic buying. Not only toilet paper but all paper supplies are either nonexistent or in short supply at our local grocery. But gun sales are up.

 

Really??? Maybe we should call this the Go-Crazy Virus. Coronavirus generally does not cause diarrhea. But people are preparing to guard their toilet paper stashes with deadly force?

 

There is reason for staying calm. Although Coronavirus is very contagious, about 80% of infected people will have mild symptoms at worse. On the other hand, there is reason for taking precautions. Those over age 60 or