A Deadwood State of Mind

 

The world is quickly going to hell in a handbasket. Questionable elections are underway. People are walking around, armed and angry in the streets. And to make matters worse, a highly contagious disease is ravaging the population. Some folks are recovering, though not all to their pre-illness state of health. But many others are not, and often they are buried with little ceremony up on the hill, just out of town. 

And then I wake up.

To escape the anxieties of election night, November 3, 2020, we binge-watched “Deadwood”. Timothy Olyphant’s Seth Bullock’s efforts to do right, at least most of the time, in opposition to Ian McShane’s Al Swearnegen’s greedy, cutthroat grasping is perhaps a morality play for our time. That’s right, I had been dreaming I was trapped in Deadwood in the late 1800’s rather than living in Kentucky in 2020.

In an effort to forget the current traumas of 2020—pandemic, election fears in the times of Trump, and confrontations between armed and angry people in the streets— the mud, blood, and liquor-soaked noir we’ve been streaming is not that much different than the reality we’ve been trying to escape.

The real-life events of the gold rush in the South Dakota Hills make a striking setting for Deadwood’s poetic, profane, and vulgar dialogue. If all four-letter words and derivates were eliminated, the script would be half as long. But that dialogue and setting, together with the portrayal of the human struggle for money and power produced an award-winning western drama that, to date, we had not gotten around to watching.

Despite the undisputed charms of Olyphant’s character and the opportunities to strike it rich in those South Dakota hills the claustrophobic Deadwood-dreams in which I found myself enveloped, are more nightmare than escape.

Later, having analyzed the available gender roles in the “Deadwood” episodes we’ve seen, my conscious mind concludes that limited opportunities for women may be the reason the thought of living in the actual town of Deadwood is so frightening. Per the series, it seems a woman in 1870’s South Dakota had few occupational choices: prostitute, supervisor of prostitutes, broom-pusher if crippled, or fine lady required to sit in her room and wait for a man to help and protect her.

With Calamity Jane as the exception. Of course, as a non-conventional-for-the-times woman, she was mocked and derided for dressing in sensible clothes, carrying a weapon to protect herself, and speaking as ruggedly as the men. An interesting side note, in real life, just as portrayed in the program, Jane was credited with nursing back to health many of those stricken by the plague of the day, smallpox.

Though there was not much room for gender equality some 150 years ago in the wild west, I have to wonder if there couldn’t have been a place for a woman to open a café or eatery that served decent coffee and nourishing meals. At least my dream-mind wondered that.

Despite these thoughts of possible entrepreneurial opportunities in the old west, in the morning I’m relieved to find myself in the year 2020. Who amongst us wakes with that thought these days?

Maybe we need to consider the progress we have made in the last century and a half. We may have a contagious, scary disease, but we also have modern medicine and science to help us limit the spread and the deaths until vaccines are available. Even though we have yet to find a vaccine against the coronavirus, amazing progress with gene-sequencing and trials is being made.

Many Americans and talking heads are arguing about counting all the ballots, or not counting all the ballots, depending on whether their candidate currently is leading, all lawful election ballots are still being counted in swing states. We also have government institutions at the federal, state, and local levels and do not live in a lawless territory where those guns actually would be necessary. And we have institutions and Constitutional norms to determine the election of our legally-chosen representatives.

A lot of healing of the divisions amongst us is still necessary. But we all are Americans, regardless of how we voted and we still have more in common than what divides us. Protecting each other from the virus, reviving our economy, and returning to a time where we can celebrate with our friends and loved ones in person are priorities, we should be able to jointly work for. We can emulate Olyphant’s Seth Bullock and try to do right by those who cross our paths and treat each other with respect. Surely, in 150 years we’ve come a ways from the wild west.

Living in the Time of Coronavirus: Will I Have to Learn to Drive Again?

I hope you and your families are well. We watch news reports until we can’t stand it anymore. My spouse and I are staying at home except for walking our dog in the park and necessities. My spouse goes out for groceries, every two weeks unless we run out of something we think we REALLY need. Luckily, he is a good shopper, with a mask and an organized list.  When we can’t stand the monotony of eating our own cooking we order carry out. We count ourselves lucky to be able to afford groceries and occasional carry out.

I may forget how to drive if I stay home much longer. But on the positive side I’m getting better at doing my own nails. I write some but not as much as at first with the stay-at-home. The writing is therapeutic for me even if the reading of it is not for you. I tend to write longish essays that I then need to edit and chop into shorter posts. You, my sweet reader, no doubt wonder—how can she drabble on for any longer than this? Well, there is a lot of free time now for some of us.

I also am baking bread and doing what housecleaning my arthritis allows. Hell to get old. I now read the obits in the daily paper and am startled to see how many of the dearly departed are the age of my husband, myself, or younger. Not sure how many of those listed have died from coronavirus.

Reading the obituaries makes me think perhaps I should write my own obituary now. At least I could make it a bit funny if I do it while I’m still healthy. Shall I mention my awards in college and law school, as I’ve read in other obits? Or the fact that I’ve been preceded in death by many wonderful and loving collies. If they are in heaven I won’t mind passing to that world, assuming I’m amongst the blessed. Or perhaps I can use what Martindale-Hubbell wants to put on a plaque they continuously try to sell me? No, I think I need to give this more thought.

I’m doing lots of reading and some zoom “cocktail parties”, with my book club and another women’s group. Lots has been written about the best way to Zoom.  Zoom can be challenging for largish groups. But recently we Face Timed with our teenage grandkids. That is not at all challenging or overrated.

I never thought I could value the hugs of loved ones more. But now the coronavirus has taught us those hugs truly are to be cherished.

Living in the Land of Uncertainty

We all are living now in the land of uncertainty. People are staying at home as much as possible, and wearing masks when they have to go out. Health care workers, grocery store clerks, truckers, first responders, teachers and many others are being recognized as the heroes they are. Some for the first time.  Non-essential stores and offices are closed. Online ordering of food is difficult if not impossible. Everyday items we had long come to take for granted have disappeared in many places. The underlying fear of catching a deadly and novel virus competes with dire concerns of a great depression.

My uncertainty is a lot less than the uncertainty for many. But it exists. It’s about day six or seven since I started with a little, hacky cough, tightness in my chest and headache. Since I am given to allergies to nearly everything God or man created, but especially the God-creations, such as grass, pollen, sunlight, trees, cats, wool, dust mites (you get the picture), a little cough and tightness in my chest ordinarily are not unusual enough to give me pause.  

In the time of coronavirus, however, every cough, whether at home or in public, is suspect. My spouse immediately started asking how I felt. Did I have a fever? No. Was I feeling sick? Just a little tired. Could I still taste and smell food? I sure could. Did I have an appetite? Yes. Maybe a little less robust than usual, but food tasted fine. Or it did for the most part. Some few things had a strange aftertaste. Like dark chocolate. Oh—talk about God-created miracles. Please don’t let anything ruin the taste of chocolate.

 This state of affairs continued for several days. My coughs during the night occasionally waking my light-sleeping husband. But not me. I’ve been known to sleep through small and large disasters occurring around me. Since I am a senior and have a history of asthma I yielded to my spouse and other family member’s insistence that “I do something”.  I sent an electronic message to my primary care doctor. My symptoms were so minor I apologized for taking her attention away from what I was sure were more pressing patient issues.

My doctor’s office quickly responded and asked me to come to the office the next morning. I did, following their instructions for safe access. My doctor took my vitals and confirmed my temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen levels were all good. She listened to my lungs and asked pertinent questions about my symptoms. She noted I likely had a virus, the treatment for which was rest, fluids and healthful, easily digestible foods. She reiterated hygiene and safety measures to prevent the spread of the virus in case this was the dreaded COVID 19 and sent me home with a prescription for a new inhaler to use if the tightness in my chest caused any breathing difficulties and instructions to call 911 if I felt at any time I had significant trouble breathing.

When I got home and reported in an email the results to family, in what I thought was a very low-key manner, I was met with calls and questions. Some were concerned that I had not been tested for coronavirus. The only thing scarcer than rolls of toilet paper are COVID 19 tests. While it would be useful to know if the virus I am experiencing is part of the pandemic sweeping the globe, for me right now it makes little difference. I am and have been staying at home. I am not deathly ill. The doctor had assured me that whatever virus I had my spouse most likely already had been exposed so no extraordinary measures to keep him from being exposed were likely to make a difference.  

It would be useful to know if this illness is giving me some immunity to COVID 19. By the time I’m fully better I’m hoping tests will be available to determine that. By then, I could more safely go out and about. And also, possibly donate platelets to others who need help in recovering.  

I’m now in week two of the cough that lingers. I’ve not had any of the symptoms commonly associated with allergies, like itching and sneezing, or the ones I associate with flu or other previous viruses like fever or congestion.  I also don’t feel any worse. In fact, I am cautiously optimistic. I have a little more energy and am a little less headachy. I still don’t feel much like doing chores around the house or putting on makeup. But that’s not a whole lot different than usual.

I know that week two of COVID 19 often is a turning point where some people get better and some suddenly take a turn for the worse. So, I’m going to continue to follow my doctor’s advice: rest, fluids and stay at home.

As we all live in the land of uncertainty, I am wondering what I might find on Netflix today—and if Netflix will freeze up like it did last night. Maybe at some point we will all learn who is and who is not immune to coronavirus and have a vaccine for those who are not yet immune. Then we can emerge from the land of uncertainty and rebuild our world, perhaps in a kinder, better, and safer world for all of God’s creations.

Dreams in the Time of the Coronavirus

I have a rather profound question for you, dear readers: If Jimmy Buffet is singing in the background of your dream, no matter how otherwise horrible the dream, can it be a nightmare?

I, like other friends with whom I’ve spoken—by phone I assure you--have had disturbing dreams lately. But so far, I am the only one who’s nightmares have been punctuated by a soundtrack of what ordinarily is happy, beach-going, margaritas-drinking music.

It can be difficult to think and write happy thoughts. We all have family, friends, and ourselves to worry about. I am worried about dear relatives who have come down with this awful virus. I also am worried about our adult children, teenage grandchildren, and flocks of friends and other relatives who so far are remaining healthy, that is, if you don’t count stir-craziness.

Worries invade my thoughts throughout the days and no doubt are reflected in my dreams at night. I don’t generally remember my dreams. But I expect they are somewhere stewing in my psyche and reflect some of what is going on in our increasingly dystopian world.

For two nights in a row I kicked my husband while we were both sound asleep, jolting him awake. What dream demons I was destroying I have no idea.  To his credit my spouse refused my offer that I move to the guest room. Now he wears shin and knee guards to bed. Not really, but we have placed a large pillow near my legs and between us, so he has at least a chance of waking without bruises. And also, of getting a half-way decent night of sleep.

My spouse is not the only one in the family who has been subject to sudden awakenings. This morning, far earlier than I usually get up, our collie urgently paced and cried near my side of the bed. Thinking she needed to go outside urgently, I jumped out of bed. Well, that’s not exactly accurate either. I “jumped” as quickly as a senior who was sound asleep and also taking blood pressure medicine can jump out of bed without falling on her head.  

I tried to lead our collie to the back door so she could go into the yard. She refused to budge. Then I tried to lead her to the front windows in case her disturbance was caused by a three-dog walk by a neighbor that occurs twice a day. She refused to check out the front windows. So, I did the only thing one can do with a collie--I followed her.

She led me to the closed bathroom door. Thinking my husband was in the bathroom and perhaps in distress, I knocked and then opened the door. As he emerged from the shower, I asked him if everything was ok. He said he was fine and had closed the door so that the light wouldn’t wake me. Meanwhile, our dog had laid down and was sleeping, apparently quite happily, on the cold bathroom floor.

Dogs are smarter than we sometimes credit them. One of our sons has a black lab who has learned to open doors, particularly the one to the back yard and all the doors where food is kept. Obviously, our collie is even smarter. She has learned to manipulate her humans to open whatever doors she wants to go through.

After I saw that both my spouse and dog were fine, I went back to bed and fell asleep again. Only to be abruptly awakened sometime later by a phone call. The phone call was of no consequence except it caused me to know what I was dreaming at the time.

And a truly unusual dream it was, complete with a background soundtrack and activities that no doubt someone could interpret as meaning something in the time of coronavirus.  

Jimmy Buffett was singing over and over, “I don’t know where I’m a- gonna go when the volcano blow” as I and a number of other people were trapped in a nearly-ready-to-erupt volcano in North Korea. We were guarded by military officials who didn’t understand we were all in danger. Despite our panic, some of us had hacked into the guards’ phones and other electronic devices and we were starting to play warnings about the volcano when my actual phone rang.

I remain optimistic during this virus outbreak. Just as I feel sure we would have convinced those guards to help us escape, I think we will work together to create and find solutions, vaccines, medicines, supplies, physical distancing and whatever else it takes to defeat this threat.

Our world may well be changed from BC (the Time Before Coronavirus) to AC (after Coronavirus). We are losing and will lose many people to this terrible disease. We will learn how to collectively grieve. We will learn how to accomplish a lot more work as well as socializing, using technology so we can maintain distance. We will learn how to plan ahead for the next big disaster, having supplies and supply chains better organized to respond when disaster strikes.

Another, actually profound question presents itself: will we also recognize the value of diversity for our collective survival? I hope we learn to value the least of us, the elderly, the immigrant, the poor person. They or their child may hold the solution to our next pandemic or disaster.    

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.  

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.

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.