A Curmudgeonly Take on Covid

     Personal space has a whole new meaning nowadays. Unwanted touching certainly does as well. Even the ordinarily benign statistical terms defining groups as millenials or seniors carry more gravity in this era of 'corona-crisis'.

     For seniors like myself, it means being dragged into a whole new world we had never faced in our lifetimes and one for which we're ill-equipped to handle. Maybe if we'd lived through the Spanish Flu epidemic 100 years ago or the Depression later, we'd know how to thrive hunkered down with dwindling supplies. Or maybe if we'd adapted better to the age of super-technology with its apps and downloads like our children and grandchildren have, we'd be better prepared to order groceries on-line or check our bank statement electronically. I don't think my parents even have a credit card.

     So now I'm adapting to the new normal. I ordered a pizza from my computer at home. That's a first. But I always worry every time I type my credit card into my computer it's going to fall into the hands of a crook (I really should have ordered an extra large pizza so we'd have more leftovers).

     My brother, who was a postman, offered a tip through Facebook that we can order stamps by mail. Sounded good as we were nearly out. So I went on-line and set up an account with USPS. With their levels of security, you would have thought I was applying for a defense contract. They wanted to know my mother's maiden name, even my favorite sport. What if I don't have one? They also wanted me to use a password that's different from any other password I might have on the internet. Seriously? Every website seems to require a password now and I have trouble remembering just one. Heck, I'm a senior. I have trouble remembering what day it is.

     But I soldiered through and created my account. Then I ordered a book of stamps. That cost me $1.30 extra delivery fee and I could expect them in five to seven days. I later found out my post office was still open and I could have bought them myself in five to seven minutes walking time from my house.

     I'm still not ready to order my groceries on-line though. Maybe if they would guarantee toilet paper. However, our local grocery store had a time specifically set aside for seniors. So my wife and I got up early and went.

     It was a madhouse in there. I think every senior in the county was there. Social distancing? Forget it. Shelves stocked with everything? Nope. Many seniors were wearing masks. My wife and I don't have one though I thought afterwards that if we go again, I'll pull out this old over-the-head Halloween rubber skull mask I have. It covers my mouth and is intimidating enough in appearance that it would guarantee social distancing between me and other shoppers. I could even wear my accompanying grim reaper's robe with it. Not only would that guarantee social distancing but it would probably send shoppers scurrying for the exits. I could have the whole store to myself.

     It made me wonder if getting all these vulnerable seniors in the same crowded store at the same time was trying to instill in us what they describe as “herd immunity.”

     For me, most of this comes down to personal responsibility. Like many seniors, I have to shake my head at the lack of personal responsibility many are exhibiting. You can rant about governmental leaders, many of whom have been turned into political punching bags. But it really comes down to us as people to make the changes necessary to get through this.

     What makes me sad personally is seeing how this affects my grandchildren whom we watch a day a week that they're out of school. When my six-year-old found out that they would not be spending their spring break on the beach in Florida as they'd been promised for many months, he cried.

     His nine-year-old brother said, “We were going to go then somebody got infected.” No, it wasn't just SOMEbody as he indicated. I saw the videos on the news. There were lots, lots of people not taking personal responsibility, seniors included.

     I took my grandkids to the local park but had to corral my three-year-old when he ran jubilantly towards his favorite plaything there, the swing. There was another little girl swinging nearby and I didn't want to risk the possibility of them being too close together. That was last week. This week they're closing down playgrounds altogether.

     My elder grandson watched from a distance as a bunch of kids played basketball on a nearby court. That's also not advised, but these kids were younger and probably not as vulnerable. I also saw a few younger folks eating ice cream as they walked back from a local Dairy Queen. This is at a time when our governor has advised people to shelter in place. Is that happening much here in Michigan? I hear even golf courses are open (they've closed since). Maybe they're considered essential businesses. Personal responsibility folks!

     Well, I'm going to shelter in place. No golfing, no Dairy Queen, not even mine and my wife's one and only addiction, Tim Horton coffee, though I may relent there and go to the drive-through if the numbers of infected finally start to flatten. We stocked up on Tim Horton's gift cards so we can zip through quickly.

     So then I stay home, much of the time watching videos from my collection of sci fi apocalyptic movies. Seriously, they're my favorites. I watched Oblivion this week. Also have movies like The Last Man on Earth and 28 Days Later. I love dystopia. Just never thought I'd be living it.

     One movie I have that seems to have an unintended parallel in this Corona-crisis is When Worlds Collide. Today it's a generational collision--the more tech savvy and less vulnerable,younger (and perhaps less personally responsible) generation versus the more vulnerable older generation, one of which (me) is trying to decipher Skype so they can see their grandkids growing up three states over.

     Before the era of social distancing, my wife and I went to see comedian Nate Bargatze at a packed-house concert in Kalamazoo. He personally recounted his own struggle with trying to get a Google Chromebook to connect to Netflix while he stayed overnight at a hotel. He complained to the front desk and two elderly workers tried to help him, but neither could quite jump through all the technological hoops to get it working. Not to worry though, they said, “A millenial will be coming in at 11 p.m. He should be able to help.”

     But 11 o'clock came and went while Nate waited patiently. Finally, he got a call from the front desk. “The millenial didn't show up for work,” he said.

     Got one of the biggest laughs of the night.