Pandemic Days March 2020

What a time to be alive!

March 19, 2020

I’ve always been a news hound. I got that from my dad, who had been listening to news since the early radio days. But these times we’re seeing today are something beyond all that. There are so many layers.

1. The virus is a serious threat to some groups.

2. The hype and fear is largely media-driven and is way out of proportion to the actual threat

3. The president’s opponents hit him for being unable to do anything right.

4. The president’s opponents seem unable to do anything right themselves.

5. People are mostly calm and sympathetic.

6. Some people are incredibly stupid, deserving no respect.

7. The president works tirelessly to manage the crisis while needling the annoying ankle-biter press midgets.

8. The press seems to work tirelessly to make him look bad and trip him up whenever possible.

Some semi-random notes:

Yesterday our cordial UPS man brought a package and paused just a moment to chat. He said he had lots of toilet paper, diapers, and chicken coops. Sort that one!

Today I decided to spread some cash around to some area restaurants. In Greencastle I went to a sandwich place I had never visited before.  It’s raining. I had a flyer that promised a good sandwich at a good price. I called ahead, but the message said online orders or in person. When I got there I waded through a flooded, potholed parking area, saw the broken front window repaired with wide black tape to look like a crude spider web, then pulled on the door handle. Locked. I heard a voice from around the side saying I have to come to the walk-up window. I splashed over there. “I’d like a couple of sandwiches,” I said, waving the large mail promo card. Hesitation. “We’re about to close.” They had opened at 10, about an hour and a quarter before. They’re due to be open until evening. I hesitate. The frazzled guy in the dirty window leans down and says, “but tell me what you want and I’ll make it up for you.” Pause. “You’ll be our last customer today. We’re gonna close.” That sounds a little ominous. “For how long,” I ask. “Until the pandemic is over.” Before I can ask why, it spills. “The federal government is going to shut everything down. They’re already calling out the National Guard.” I look at him in disbelief. We both pause. I finally look through the low window at him and say, “Look, I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. They’re not going to close everything down. I just want to help you stay in business.” He immediately recoils and spits the words at me: “Then just get the hell out of here!! As I turn toward the car I say, “No problem. That I can do.” I get in the car, roll the window down and toss my advertising card with menu list stapled in the corner out into the watery parking area. I turn around and splash my way out. 

As it turns out, I probably saved myself from a case of salmonella or worse, but I kept wondering why people would join the panic, and why would anyone ever treat a customer like that? I was hoping to discover a good sandwich place and help ease the economic pain a bit. But I know one thing I’ll never do after this is over, and that is to go back there and buy anything.