Day 72
Is it a hammer? Is it a trumpet? Whichever one, the first blow has come.
In the county where my habitat is situated, the good people are now allowed a little less isolation. Word came this Friday. Those who want can give haircuts again. Jewelers can go back to extorting young lovers. Groups of up to 25 people may gather, provided they stand apart from one another. Masks are encouraged, but, in the precise language of the law, “You do you.”
To paraphrase a sign I read, this doesn’t mean the Dread Virus is over, it only means there’s beds available at the hospital.
Someone I (used to) respect was loudly touting a graph that showed the quarantine was oppressive because, with the exception of New York, no state ever had its ICU more than half full of Dread Virus patients. As if the optimal balance is to keep the morgues as full as possible without overwhelming them.
I admit I’m not overly excited to rush out and join the throng.
Yes, It will be nice to go hiking again, keeping a furlong between me and anyone else, same as I always did. And I can start getting excited to sit across a patio from the people I’ve missed, one or two at a time. Beyond that, I feel like a mother dog, wanting to fetch her wandering puppies and bring them back to the house. “No, no, my pups. You can’t go outside. You have bread to bake. You have jigsaw puzzles to do, guitars to not practice. You can’t go roaming the wide, wide world.“
Some of my hesitation is legitimate concern. The Virus is still out there, in nearly every town. It will take very little to stoke those embers back up to a good roaring fire. The risk of reopening will be borne most directly by those who have the least say and the fewest options. All of that is true, but I don’t think it’s where my dog-mind is going. My dog-mind is working on the simple premise that outside is dangerous, while inside is safe. It isn’t a nuanced view, nor even a true one, necessarily.
Be that as it may, I have no better guide.
If you need me, I’ll be in my bed on the floor, under my blanket with my favorite squeaky toy. The pups will do what the pups will do, but I’m staying in a while longer.
