In the interest of self-quarantining, self-isolating and social distancing – and all the craziness this damn coronavirus requires – I send you this report from Massachusetts.
I admit I was caught flat-footed about this epidemic/pandemic two weeks ago due to a meeting and probably because I wasn’t paying much attention to Covid-19.
After the meeting, I went to Shaw’s, the local grocer. It was mobbed. The entire town – population about 13,000 – was in a shark-like frenzy, snapping up whatever it could, from paper towels to toilet paper to cleaning supplies, especially sanitizing hand wipes. It’s nearly out of eggs, and there was a substantial run on meat and pasta.
Up until yesterday, it was the same at every store – no toilet paper or paper towels and damn few cleaning supplies, even at Costco. I was surprised to discover the local Target was out of printer paper. So I went to Wal-Mart, where I found two boxes – totaling 10,000 sheets – for $60.00.
There was a bright spot, however. Wegman’s, another grocer, was selling paper towels and toilet paper on Friday. To be sure, they put limits on how much customers could buy. I snatched up one of each.
1984 or Ray Bradbury?
What’s worrisome is how much behavior has changed. Several people wear surgical masks. Where they once acknowledged one another with a friendly greeting, now it’s about avoidance in the aisles. They scoot away, like sand crabs on a beach.
The state’s public K – 12 schools are closed until at least May 4 but, as I see it, the kids won’t see the inside of a classroom until late August or early September. There’s some attempt at digital schooling but it’s limited to homework assignments sent via email. There’s no such thing as video conferencing a class but word now is that's about to change. I fear that high school graduation for many, including my sons, will be delayed by a year, maybe longer.
At least the liquor stores are open. They’re deemed an “essential business” by the state’s government. Although I'm suspicious about that. I think state officials want us so drunk we won’t notice what they’re doing.
On Saturday, I noticed a blinking sign outside a town’s fire and police department. It blinked, “Why are you out?” followed by “Go home.”
How is one supposed to take that message, especially if they work at a grocery store? Or they own a liquor store? Or, like a local baker, are holding onto to dear life to survive this crisis?
Will the fire and police department put them on their payroll or fund their businesses?
I'm also noticing civil disobedience.
A high school athletic field near me was closed in the middle of last week. The week prior, it was filled with high school kids, parents and others as a place to stay in shape. Then, it was shut down. On Thursday and Friday, sunny days with temperatures in the 60s, a few people returned – despite the town’s order.
Better yet, while driving on a house-lined street last Thursday, I saw a man, appearing to be in his 60s, sitting on a lawn chair in his driveway sipping a martini. He was doing the same on Friday. It seemed to be his way of telling the establishment to shove it.
Those of us wishing to take a walk are likely to become Leonard Mead in Ray Bradbury’s “The Pedestrian.” The police will arrest us because all we want to do is live.
