We have been on lockdown here in the San Francisco Bay Area for five days. That sounds like the beginning of a story about the Donner Party. Meg and I were in Truckee just last week, so the Donner Party is on my mind. We haven’t turned to cannibalism yet, but it is hard to get groceries delivered. Still no toilet paper. Now wishing I had saved those cloth diapers from when my kids were babies.
The rest of the state has joined us on lockdown. And New York and Illinois. Most of the country may not be far behind. The rough economic patch that began with the sub-prime loan meltdown became known as the Great Recession. This one may be called the “Great Grinding to a Halt.”
It is very strange to sit in your house all day. We’re not used to that. Who knows when we might turn on each other. “The Shining” comes to Palo Alto.
This is more than Day 5. We’ve all seen it coming and gradually cut back our activities. My last trip into the wild was to pick up something at a store on March 3. Since then it has been nods from six feet. So, by that reckoning, this is Day 17.
We go out for walks, but we walk across the street when we see other walkers coming toward us, or they do. We all smile and wave, but we keep up a steady pace. Ever since I read that the virus hangs in the air for a bit, I have tried to avoid walking behind people, to stay out of their vapor trail. I think of the jets I see going overhead and I imagine a virus contrail.
I don’t have any heartwarming stories of neighbors selflessly helping others. Mostly we are all keeping to ourselves, as we have been ordered to do, and as is sensible. A very few idiots seem to think the rules don’t apply to them, or their gardeners, but by and large, we all seem to be playing ball. We’re trying to flatten the curve so that when we do get sick, as most of us will, there will be ventilators for everyone who needs them.
The alternative of rationing medical care based on some judgment of who should live and who should die doesn’t seem attractive.
We talk by phone to our children, all grown up and far away, and wish we could be there to keep them from being lonely. I suppose we imagine playing games with them like when they were young. Probably their worst nightmare.
We’re all a little stoic, and a little scared.
And we have a long way to go. This is only Day 5 of likely a hundred or more, off and on. I would say that, with all that time on my hands, all my clutter will be organized by the time we come out of this. But probably not. Right now, my mind is more cluttered than my drawers.
“A very few idiots seem to think the rules don’t apply to them, or their gardeners, but by and large, we all seem to be playing ball.”
ReplyDeleteCount me as one of your idiots.
You may have seen me driving to work, but you may not have read the fine print of Santa Clara County’s Public health order. They ask for businesses to continue "The minimum necessary activities to maintain the value of a business’s inventory, ensure security, process payroll and employee benefits, or for related functions. And, the minimum necessary activities to facilitate employees of the business being able to continue to work remotely from their residences."
I've been put in the "Minimum Basic Operations" category, so I'll still be going to work, but there will be almost no one here. (Five well separated people in a 35,000 sq ft building.)
Some empathy is deserved. We had four hours to setup remote operations for the R&D engineers and essentially shutdown a manufacturing facility. There were lots of questions that had to be quickly answered. And, with no known time horizon, there were many worried workers who depend on the company for their income and health care. Needless to say, our deliveries to research labs around the world will be delayed. But, yeah, I still drive to work.
Antonio Orozco, and his son and father, are another matter. I missed the opportunity to virtue signal my understanding of exponential pandemic growth by letting my lawn grow, opting instead to have him increase his fees, effective immediately, and continue to do his good work. It seemed a reasonable risk as they all live together in a small house in Mountain View anyway, and the income will help him to keep his family safe.
Mac, thank you for describing your perception of this craziness that is all around us now. It's so hard, for each person in a different way. May we flatten the curve, and may everyone have access to the care they need, for this virus and for all of their health / illness situations! I'm impressed that you're continuing to write! I will try . . . soon!
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