What's Your Comfort Level?

     A couple days ago I saw a rather unsettling news bulletin that was issued through our local health department. It asked that any people who had visited the local mall or a nearby Meier grocery store at specified times a week ago get tested immediately for Covid 19. The new more contagious strain ravaging the United Kingdom was here in our own county.

    It's moments like these that test your comfort level during the ongoing pandemic. Wendy and I avoid shopping except at times when we know the stores will be as empty of shoppers as possible. I did shop at the grocery store mentioned in the health bulletin, but very early in the day. And not on the day of the possible exposure. Whew!

    My brother and his wife are leaving Michigan this week, driving to warmer climes at a condo they rented in Key Largo, Florida. Their comfort level with this virus is higher than mine. I'd love to go warmer places but not before I get my vaccination. Another younger brother who lives 200 miles north in upper Michigan said the same. He's not a fan of Michigan winters either, but he would rather hunker down here than travel cross country.

    My wife and I try as much as possible to support the local businesses, ordering take-out meals and getting drive-through coffee at our favorite Tim Horton's. We even purchased a new automobile, though it was before the latest Covid scare I mentioned. When we showed it off to my sister-in-law's family and gave them a ride, my wife noticed my twenty-something nephew was wearing a mask inside our new car during the ride. Since he lives in a bubble pretty much, I guess he was worried about us. That tells you something about his comfort level.

    Then there is my sister Sue who occasionally orders books on-line at her local library which is located in a small town more than 100 miles north of us here in southeast Michigan. In the past, she'd pull up curbside to the library, make a phone call to someone within, and they would come out and place the book in her car through the open passenger's side window.

    But most recently when Sue went to pick up a book, they asked that she open her trunk before they came out with the book. Since she drives a truck, she figured she'd just do as before, just roll down the passenger's side window. She did that and waited. But the library clerk who came outside saw the open window and called out that she was not supposed to get that close to my sister's truck.

    Now Sue was wearing a mask as was the librarian. It's a big truck so there easily was six feet of distance between them. The library staff person would have to do a flying leap through the open window to breach the six-foot barrier. My sister said to throw the book, which the staff person did, flinging the book through the open window. “And she spun around so fast like my truck was a big, red virus.” Sue wrote me. She just hoped the book wasn't damaged.

    I responded that at our library, which is open just for pick-up, you just enter masked, follow the arrows on the floor, tell the librarians who are all behind big plexi-glass screens who you are and what book you're here for, and they will check you out and give you the book. No book flinging or trunk opening necessary.

    Bringing books back at our library is easier, since they have a drop box outside where you just deposit your reading material. But then a few days after I took a book back to the library, I got an overdue notice by e-mail for that same book. I e-mailed back that I had dropped off the book earlier that week.

    Here was the response I got: “All items are being quarantined for 6 days before they are checked in with the date they were returned. Please feel free to check your account after 7 days to confirm that the items have been removed from your account.”

    Guess that tells you something about my library's comfort level with books.