Shelter In Place for Dummies
Maybe the President needs a PR firm to convince people that this silent storm, this pandemic, is the real deal. The messaging could be something catchy like “We need to fix the d#%m roads!” only include some light-and-fluffy verbiage that will make people feel safe.
I was unsure what to expect after the Governor’s crippling mandate considering her entire campaign can be summed up with a single talking point, It’s time to fix the d#%m roads. Now that the shelter in place order is in effect, whether the roads are pristine or in a state of disrepair, d#%med or otherwise, we lack the freedom to travel and to enjoy the places those roads can take us, and the ability to connect with those we care about. When we are told we must stay home and away from other people, in essence, we are told we must accept an unfamiliar definition of freedom.
Having spent the better part of my first week home and in place, I thought I would feel empty and unproductive. On the contrary, I decided to make the most of my sequester by embracing Ferris Bueller’s mindset. The weather was too nice to let my time go to waste. So what did I do? I took walks with my wife and son, and of course, the Wonder Pup, I haven’t seen much of my son these past few months with all of the long hours I have been putting in. The fact that he shaved his head is leading me to believe that either I am completely out of touch or he has too much time on his hands.
Nothing is as simple as it was even a month ago. A quick trip to the local Stuff Mart requires advanced planning to ensure we hit the trample-free hours of 8:00-9:00 AM — the hour that is reserved for the elderly and disabled. Hang-tags are optional, of course. I’m afraid that I would confuse my son if we were to hit the corner liquor store or the local dispensary and stock up on staples that the government identified as “essential.”
It must be the idea that is still throwing me off; that I am not permitted to move about freely, even if it’s for my own safety and the safety of others. Keeping up with all the warnings is a full-time activity in its self. I am told that I am not in a high-risk group, but it’s difficult to know for certain. To adopt a mindset that the cardboard box that my Cocoa Puffs came in could kill me before the sugar and the preservatives in the cereal will, requires a new way of thinking, that in itself, could help me embrace my diet. Nonetheless, I am open to change and if this is what it means to shelter in place, I will certainly do my part.
It might help if I could feel safer. Perhaps I would feel differently if the plastic bubble I bought to protect my investment portfolio would have shown up a few months earlier. Maybe, if it was sourced from someplace other than the birthplace of the virus, and if it was shipped in something different from a virus encrusted container along with other virus-covered boxes, and hand-delivered by a virus exposed package delivery service.
It was Rohm Emanuel, an Obama hack, who offered this advice to those seeking public office, Never let a crisis go to waste! This past week, the lemmings did just that — politicizing their message to pit neighbor against neighbor and state against state. It was naive to think that a few trillion dollars of pork will buy unity and bipartisanship. Instead, the stage is set with the same shameless cast of characters, promising oversight, moral clarity, all cloaked in righteous indignation.
I wonder how differently people would heed the warnings if the political grandstanding were shelved, the t-shirts are put back in the dresser drawers, and a message of hope and comfort is extended to those that are hurting and feel helpless. The campaign slogans will keep for another year; as will the condition of the d#%m roads. If they haven’t gotten better during the past decade, I find it hard to believe that regurgitating a talking point will do the trick. If nothing else, maybe its time for a new generation of bean counters. They can start by peeling off a few billion dollars to fix the d#%m website so the recently unemployed can file a claim. Chances are, they’re working with their own idea of what’s essential.
Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing,
I apologize for the coarse language used by the Pup. She wanted to forcefully emphasize a point but is still a little fuzzy on the definition of essential.
Al and this faithful, but clemency-seeking sidekick, Ivy the Wonder Pup.
I can see why you’re confused, pup. The lines between essential and criminally prosecutable are fine; and blurry. No pun intended.