Leave John Wayne out of this
Just when we thought it was safe to go out for a burger … the bug’s back.
And in record numbers, too. Think of the disappointment – all those folks crowding their local pubs for a Budweiser who got corona instead.
The virus is spreading again, but am I scared? Yup, you betcha, and I’m not ashamed to say so either. Truth is, there are quite a number of things that scare me – things like tetanus, colon cancer, pyorrhea, and dengue. Yellow jackets too – I really try not to step on a nest of ‘em. I learned that lesson when I was three-years-old in a bad encounter with a hive of bumble bees in Dad’s hayfield.
As for colon cancer, remembering how it claimed my aunts’ lives makes the colonoscopy prep go down a lot easier.
Yeah, we learn things from fear. To this day the memory of a red Toyota plowing into my Honda at 60 miles an hour on highway 61 keeps my seatbelt buckled.
And 125,000 Americans dead from COVID-19 is enough to put a mask on my face while I wander the aisles at Walmart.
Go ahead, call it fear if you want. I guess I’d just call it common sense.
You’ve heard about common sense. It’s that all too rare human quality deeply rooted in lived experience, astute observation, and self-preservation. It’s that bit of evolutionary one-upmanship that gave Og the Caveman the insight that, after he’d done a dumb thing, not to do that dumb thing again – and after he saw Ug do a dumb thing, he wouln’t do that dumb thing either.
Consequently, we outlasted the saber tooth and are here to deal with COVID – at which much of the rest of the world is doing reasonably well. We Americans, on the other hand, seem to be at a Darwinian disadvantage.
Somehow a significant number of us have gotten the notion that dealing with the virus is akin to the plot of an old John Wayne movie – a high noon facedown in the middle of Main Street. There’s this macho thing – and its feminine equivalent – that taking measures to keep ourselves and our neighbors safe is somehow cowardly, an ovine and un-American response to an existential challenge. The sense of it is reminiscent of the attitude of a carload of 1960s high school boys out for a joy ride. We’d hit the curves on highway 76 with tires squealing, but there wasn’t a buckled seat belt among us – nobody was about to look like a chicken in front of the guys. It took a $100 fine for not wearing a belt to break that mindset for good, and because it did, despite the best efforts of that aforementioned Toyota, I’m here to tell about it.
Dealing with this virus is just about that simple, and just about that effective. COVID-19 is spread by sharing air with somebody who’s got it. We share more air inside than out, and if we’re inside, the smaller the room and the longer we’re there the more air we share. Think of it this way: If I’m standing next to you and I fart, would you rather we be stuck in an elevator or out in an open field on a breezy day.
I thought you’d get it.
And as for wearing a mask, it’s an effective way for each of us to keep our bugs to ourselves. If I don’t spray you and you don’t spray me, we can both go about our business without doing time in intensive care. It’s sort of like a viral four-way stop – so don’t be the Iowa driver who screws it up for the rest of us.
And for anybody who thinks putting on a mask is some sort of violation of their constitutional rights and God-given freedoms – did you wear pants when you last went to Kwik Trip?
It’s not hard, folks. Really, it’s not hard.