Quarantines, Handi Wipes, And Getting Skunked.
We’ll flatten the curve one way or another…maybe.
“It’s time sane minds accept the fact that insane minds have the upper hand.” Hunter S. Thompson
I’ve seen things these past few weeks. To call them irregular would be like calling the president irregular. I ‘m not worried about him. I’m more worried about me. I got “skunked” the other day. I was out for my daily walk. A woman saw me coming and crossed the street.
This woman obviously took her personal safety very seriously. I should have skunked her back to show solidarity, but she was already on the other side of the road. Nobody notices when you skunk them back. You’ve already been skunked. It’s the same as a checkmate.
“I don’t like the smell,” the guy replied. Instant skunk. Everyone moved back in case his civil disobedience devolved into a spitting rampage.
So let’s move on to the guy in the drugstore. He was asked to use hand sanitizer before the cashier would serve him. “I don’t like the smell,” the guy replied. Instant skunk. Everyone moved back in case his civil disobedience devolved into a spitting rampage. Our town has champion spitters.
That’s the thing in any scenario of limited resources and patience. Eventually tempers flare. Down in Texas, one gun dealer took to Facebook, telling people they can’t buy a weapon and leave with it the same day. “Do you see any goddamn guns here?” he yelled, pointing to empty shelves and gun racks. “There’s a ten-day waiting period. That’s the goddamn f***ing law.”
Well, there’s the law and then there are manners. Many people on Facebook felt this gun dealer lacked the latter. “He wasn’t nice at all,” one woman remarked, thanking the Lord her gun was purchased the month before.
All over America, there’s fear in the streets, and fear has a skunkish smell. It’s something the president should worry about, but he’s smelt skunk before. It’s possible he likes the scent of abject distress.
Maybe it’s good will or maybe they know Americans will die in the streets before they give up their civil liberties.
“What do you say to Americans who are scared?” NBC correspondent, Peter Alexander, asked Trump the other week. “You’re a terrible reporter,” Trump responded. What else could he say? America now ranks third in infectious cases worldwide. Even South Korea tests more people in a single day. Now they’re sending America testing kits. Maybe it’s goodwill or maybe they know Americans will die in the streets before they give up their civil liberties.
Infectious disease specialist, Dr. Anthony Fauci, stands behind Trump, making facial expressions. “I can’t just push him off the podium,” Fauci said later, amid rumours Trump is already tired of Fauci contradicting him.
When push comes to shove these days, presidents can say what they want. Most people are too busy buying guns, Handi wipes, beer, liquorice twists and whatever else wards off this corona thingy.
Precautions are good, even if people don’t know how to act in a precautionary world.“Look at this,” a man said the other night on YouTube, showing an empty parking lot covered in discarded masks and disposable gloves. “Who do these people think is going to clean this up?”
Even if grammy goes down next week, at least the kid had fun.
Not the people throwing the stuff, obviously. Death is staring us all in the face. Why niggle over litter? Think of the students coming back from Spring Break in Florida. They left South Beach and Clearwater looking like the first Woodstock. They also took home nine confirmed cases of corona virus. Even if grammy goes down next week, at least the kid had fun.
But what’s the point of harping? We’re creatures of habit, and certain necessities — whether they’re necessities or not — are still expected to be there. Civilized societies don’t make do. That’s why they’re called civilized.
One woman, returning from Mexico, complained that she couldn’t go to her nail salon when she got back. Her friend had her own tale of woe, writing on Facebook: “My nail place is closed until further notice today and I’m due to go. I cried, it was the last straw. My laser eye surgery cancelled. Jack’s 70th birthday, many social functions, LCBO with restricted hours, and our long-awaited France river cruise. But the nail place closing hurt the worst.”
Another friend responded: “Ugly nails for a few more weeks. Ugh!”
Let’s not be judgemental, though. We’re not the first generation to expect our civil liberties — and our nail salons — to remain intact during a worldwide pandemic.
During The Black Death, the aristocracy grew tired of people dying all over the place. Some villages were completely decimated. Rather than deal with the smell, they retreated to their country estates, bringing along musicians, cooks, and a bevy of maids-in-waiting. Unfortunately, the fleas responsible for the plague were already on the food wagons, the musicians, and possibly the maids-in-waiting. Within a week, the festivities turned into a major outbreak.
They came to my town, thinking they could take our supply. We gave them our champion spitters.
But who goes into self-isolation without the essentials? It’s what makes hoarding so common and gamelike. Reports went up on Facebook, notifying people that certain stores were out of toilet paper. People ran to their cars, driving to out-of-the-way places. They came to my town, thinking they could take our supply. We gave them our champion spitters.
Eventually, either common sense prevails, or hoarders as a group realize they can’t do math. Costco posted the other day that they wouldn’t accept returns. “What am I supposed to do with all this toilet paper?” one woman tweeted. She was willing to sell 48 rolls for what she paid. “Fuck you,” a guy wrote and was quickly silenced by others who were sympathetic.
“She’s not trying to make money,” a woman responded. “Give her a break. She’s not even charging tax.”
“Why doesn’t she donate the stuff to a charity?” the guy said.
“I’m broke,” the first woman replied. “All I got is toilet paper.”
“Trade it for food.”
“Have you got any?”
Such is life in the times of pandemic. What we think we need most, we find we need less. Or maybe we just think we need less once we’re starving.
Besides, there are worse things than having no toilet paper, or being skunked, or dealing with a Spring Breaker who comes home with a cough and wants his laundry done before he goes back to school.
Worse still, we’ll all be skunked, or we’ll skunk someone else, or that someone else will record it as a mutual skunking, with no particular point except it’s sensible.
Guess what? He isn’t going back to school. For every act of civil disobedience, the curve refuses to flatten. As long as there’s a curve, we’re staying home, watching our nails grow, and hoping that gun registration doesn’t get lost in the mail or end up at your neighbour’s house.
Worse still, we’ll all be skunked, or we’ll skunk someone else, or that someone else will record it as a mutual skunking, with no particular point except it’s sensible.
That’s what happens, folks. We could be riding this until the next Spring Break when President Trump will be asked again, “What can you say to the scared people out there?” and he’ll reply, “You should have stayed home.”
What else can he say? Is he going to thank the South Koreans again?
He’s done that already. Doing it a second time will only make them big-headed.
Robert Cormack is a satirist, novelist and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Skyhorse Press or Simon and Schuster for more details.
