Some things money can't buy in pandemic

This post was published in the Wilson Times May 15, 2020

Congress has appropriated more than $2 trillion to compensate for the loss of jobs and income caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. The spending is unprecedented, greater even than the recovery spending after mortgage markets collapsed in the 2008-09 Great Recession.

Among those receiving funds from Congress’ pandemic spending are laid-off workers, businesses unable to pay workers, individual taxpayers (at the rate of $1,200 each or $2,400 per couple) and big corporations, which lobbied Congress and the Trump administration to let them in on the largesse, too. Even state governments, usually tight-fisted and operating under a balanced budget mandate, have opened their coffers to provide funding to people and businesses insufficiently helped by federal money.

Now, nearly four months after the COVID-19 virus became a household phrase and shoppers panicked and cleaned shelves of toilet paper and other essential items, elected officials are wondering whether this unprecedented spending will be enough to compensate all (or nearly all) Americans for what they lost because of a virus neither they nor their government agencies could predict or subdue.

There are other losses besides the monetary ones. People are dying because of this pandemic. Earlier this week, deaths from COVID-19 topped 80,000 in the United States. No one thinks the virus will stop there.

Each death is a tragedy. Each needless death resulting from poor healthcare, lack of insurance, uncaring others who ignored precautions such as washing hands, cleaning counters, social distancing and wearing face masks, or stay-at-home orders is doubly tragic. Nothing can bring back those who were lost in the pandemic, and that leaves a vacuum felt for years by friends and relatives.

 

Pandemic rules make each death more tragic. Funerals are either limited or forbidden. No one can get a proper sendoff, a comforting farewell, a shared mourning because of limits on crowd sizes.

High school and college seniors are being denied the usual capstone of their studies, a graduation ceremony. Although high school and college leaders have provided recognitions of their graduating class, a neighborhood parade or a sign in the front yard just isn’t the same as that walk across the stage. Some college athletes are missing their last chance at stardom.

Even more disappointed are engaged couples who have planned a wedding months in advance, put down payments on reception catering and venues, plus honeymoon trips. Restrictions on crowds and uncertainties about travel will force them to postpone their ceremony and honeymoon.

Similarly, families who planned vacation trips a year in advance (not an unusual practice) have had to cancel their long-awaited travel, hope for refunds and deal with it if refunds are declined. For many, a 2020 trip was to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a bucket list item. It may be possible to shift some trips to a year later, but for some people, this year’s vacation loss is permanent. Several years ago, a friend with a debilitating and ultimately fatal disease scheduled a series of trips to check off his bucket list of places he had always wanted to see. In 2020, such once-in-a-lifetime trips won’t be possible.

For some people of a certain age, a dream trip canceled this year might be a last chance. A year from now, they might not have the mobility, strength or stamina for such a trip.

We all know that there are some things money can’t buy. There are some things for which no government stimulus can compensate: a life ended too soon, a life-mark ceremony postponed, a long-nurtured dream denied, a life-changing opportunity canceled. Stimulus money can’t make up for the disappointments, the postponements, the tragedies this pandemic has wrought.

Pandemic makes April cruel again

This post was published in the Wilson Times May 8, 2020.

Fourteen years ago, I wrote a column for The Wilson Daily Times titled “Don’t Call April Cruel.” I chided T.S. Eliot for calling April “The Cruelest Month” in his most famous poem, “The Waste Land.”

A few days before the column was published on April 8, 2006, my wife and I had sat on the deck in the back of our house and took in the beauty of spring in eastern North Carolina. Dogwoods, forsythia, azaleas and daffodils were all blooming within our sight lines. Looking at the freshly mowed green grass accented with budding flowers, I wondered how Eliot could call a month so lovely “cruel.”

Eliot accused April of “breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” Bright flowers never last. They wilt and die. All beauty is ephemeral, here today, gone tomorrow. But I just couldn’t agree with Eliot that April is cruel.

Now, 14 Aprils and at least one April tornado later, I’m beginning to see the cruelty of April in a way that the poet never did. April of 2020 has been cruel in hundreds of thousands of ways. A pandemic, sparked by an odd virus has killed about a quarter million people worldwide. North Carolina, still sparkling with April blooms, has recorded more than 400 deaths from the disease.

As of earlier this week, 69,000 Americans have died from the Corona Virus. That is more than all of the Americans killed in the Vietnam War. COVID-19 deaths are especially cruel; family members cannot visit a loved one on his/her deathbed. Traditional funerals are forbidden because they attract more than 10 people, creating a crowd that can spread the virus.

“Normal” life has come to a close. Efforts to contain the rapidly spreading virus have escalated from “social distancing” and frequent hand washing to closed schools, mandatory closing of restaurants, bars and other “non-essential” businesses. People you know are wearing facemasks to prevent spreading the invisible virus. Millions are out of work because their businesses closed or laid them off. Thirty million Americans have filed for unemployment benefits.

This April has brought out the best and the worst in us. Millions of healthcare workers are risking their own lives to treat and comfort sick patients. People are looking out for their neighbors. Families, unable to visit loved ones’ homes, are adopting video technology to create “virtual visits” with parents, children, grandchildren and others.

And the worst: Our divided politics have been ripped further asunder. Family celebrations (weddings, funerals, birthdays and anniversaries) have had to be canceled or postponed. Business owners eager to reopen their shops have chosen profits over their neighbors’ and employees’ right to live. Some “liberate” protesters carried assault weapons into the Michigan State Capitol, apparently to intimidate the state workers and elected officials there. Loud insults and implied threats have added to the cruelty of this pandemic

Perhaps cruelest of all is this: We don’t know this virus’ life cycle. Can it be stopped by the measures already undertaken? Will a relaxing of these measures invite a second wave of COVID-19 later this year? Will the insidious virus become a seasonal threat, leaving us to fight the virus month after month, year after year? Will our lives, our schedules, our workplaces, our businesses, our nonprofits, our churches, our schools, our arts and culture change drastically and permanently because of a virus that is only visible through electron microscopes?

Instead of worrying about the cruelty of April, we could have 12 cruel months every year.

ReOpen N.C. protest turn angry and ugly

Forget about being in this all together, united. Protests against public health restrictions have turned ugly.

This morning's (April 29) News & Observer quoted a Reopen North Carolina protester asking, "What will we do when the food runs out?" and answering himself: "We'll eat the health care workers!"

Another protester proclaimed at the Reopen rally outside the Legislative Building: "If we hanged traitors like our forefathers did, we'd all be back at work."

How did this protest effort turn so nasty, so vile, so quickly? The protesters have come prepared. They carry professionally printed signs. They wear costumes or clothing that evoke America and Uncle Sam. Some clothing originated with the Trump campaign. These well-organized protests with a thousand people, parade permits, attorneys, etc. don't just happen. A lot of money and a lot of planning go into them.

These protesters are largely Republicans, and the legislators who express support for the protests are nearly all Republicans, but it seems unlikely that the GOP would risk its political future by vocally and financially supporting a movement opposed by two-thirds of Americans polled.

These protests are aimed at disrupting trust in government, sowing doubts about the competence and fairness of elected officials, and inflaming worries and panic about the future. Even the most vile and insidious of Americans would not join efforts to undermine elections and other democratic elections for ephemeral gains.

It seems likely, though I've seen no evidence of it, that foreign powers intent on weakening American institutions are sowing these seeds of doubt and stirring the fires of anger and hatred this election year. We know, from U.S. intelligence reports, that Russia, China and other nations are using social media and other tools to divide and weaken American institutions and other western democracies. It is logical that these adversaries would use the COVID-19 pandemic to turn Americans against each other and against their own elected officials.

We need to see who is financing and masterminding these protests.

 

Life in the Time of Corona Virus, 4.11.20

This post was published in the Wilson Times April 21, 2020

I wore a mask over my nose and mouth this morning, the same mask I wore to the grocery store earlier in the week to protect me from the Corona virus. Today the mask protects my sinuses from the pollen. I was outside to shovel five big piles of raked and swept pollen into a compost bin, to be buried in the landfill.

String-like tassels from three big oaks and comma-shaped pods from a half-dozen pines blanket the lawn and asphalt driveway.

The trees’ reproductive dust fell like snowflakes, soft and weightless. The wind picked up, and it was snowing pollen horizontally, coating cars, streets and outdoor furniture. The trees’ determination to survive coats my sinuses and my skin.

It took some time to get accustomed to the mask over my face, but medical professionals recommended them for everyone, so I complied in the hope that I might not be infected or might avoid infecting others. Wearing the mask for more than a few minutes tugs at my ears and requires me to remove the mask to wipe my nose, which drains each pollen season.

My wife made my mask from scraps of cloth left from all the years she sewed clothes for our children and gifts for others. She put the mask together quickly from instructions in a newspaper. The rumble of her sewing machine resonated through the house for the first time in months as she worked. Newspapers, which provided the concept and the pattern, and home sewing machines are both becoming rare. What will we do at the next pandemic?

For four weeks, the grocery store has had no facial tissues or toilet paper. Hoarding and panic buying are to blame, we’re told, but that doesn’t fill the paper products shelf. I recall during my newspaper days someone telling me that newsprint was just one step above toilet paper. Maybe we’ll be forced to upgrade to newsprint. Until the papers we subscribe to quit print publication altogether, I guess we’ll have a sufficient supply of a necessary product, despite hoarders.

We order takeout from our favorite local restaurants in the hope that they will survive the stay-at-home orders that have emptied their dining rooms.

We have developed the habit of avoiding close encounters with other people so the virus won’t spread. We are staying home for the same reason. We don’t want to be responsible for illness or death of others.

We have canceled two trips we had planned for this year. This was to be the year we would really take advantage of our free time as retirees. We would travel to places we’d never seen. We’d cross an ocean for the first time. But an invisible disrupter forced a revision in our plans. Our planned trips amount to nothing compared to the potential hazards if we are not vigilant in avoiding other people and washing our hands repeatedly.

I like being home, a comfortable, quiet and familiar space. Rules of fashion don’t apply here. I can wear the same jeans all week, and no one notices. But personal hygiene rules our lives. I have washed my hands so many times my skin is dry and flaking. Kitchen counters are cleaner than ever.

But the virus can strike anyone, and it’s especially dangerous for older people (like us). A cousin’s friend far away wrote a gut-wrenching account of watching her husband die from COVID-19. Because of the virus, she was not allowed into his hospital room to say goodbye, to hold his hand, to give him a last kiss, to share tearful farewells.

The thought of dying alone in some hospital isolation ward without any family members in the room, then forgoing any funeral or memorial that might attract more than 10 people provides the motivation for me to observe social distancing, wash my hands frequently, stay home, and wear a face mask when I leave the house.

A pandemic has the power to change society, culture and civilization. Already, pundits are predicting changes in retail, governance, travel, Internet use, shopping, civic clubs, religious observances, funerals, sports event, family reunions and so on.

While everyday life continues, the virus lurks unseen, waiting for an opening and shading our every thought. Songwriter John Prine died from COVID-19 last week, leaving these timely words from my favorite of his songs, “Hello in There”: “But old people just grow lonesome, waiting for someone to say, ‘Hello in there.’”

Corona Virus shutdown looks like an apocalypse

The NCAA has canceled March Madness? The NBA has canceled its season? The Atlantic Coast Conference has canceled its 66-year-old basketball tournament, along with tournaments and scheduled games in all other sports? Major League Baseball is delaying opening day? Colleges and universities are canceling in-person classes and replacing them with online classes? Broadway shows are being canceled? The Masters golf tournament has been postponed — The Masters!

If these aren't signs of the apocalypse, I don't know what is.

The NCAA basketball championship game was played nearly 40 years ago hours after a failed attempt to assassinate the president, who was still hospitalized and in serious danger at tip-off.

This Covid-19 virus must be truly virulent to disrupt American life so thoroughly. The World Health Organization has declared the outbreak of this new disease to be a pandemic — a disease that endangers the entire world.

Although some irresponsible individuals in and out of government have attempted to minimize the dangers and impact of the new corona virus, top scientists in U.S. health agencies have strongly urged action to avoid spread of the disease. Without such actions, the rate of infection could grow exponentially, ultimately overwhelming the health care system as hospitals run out of beds, equipment and medicines. Each infected person is likely to infect more than two people they encounter. It's not influenza, which has a much lower fatality rate.

Because of a slow initial response by officials, the United States still does not have adequate numbers of test kits for the virus, allowing the virus to continue its spread. Although "Quarantine" signs have not gone up on people's doors, as they did in earlier smallpox and polio epidemics, limiting contacts and practicing good hygiene are essential to preventing a far greater crisis.

Covid-19 is said to be especially hazardous for people 65 and older, especially those with heart or lung disease or a compromised immune system. As an older-than-65 man with a not-noticeable heart condition, I am paying close attention to this corona virus. I'm not panic-buying Clorox or toilet paper, but I am washing my hands more often and more carefully than in the past.

I am also hoping for government leaders to be more transparent, empathetic, honest, scientific, prepared and trustworthy in the future.