One Small Voice: I’ve got those Old Pandemic Blues

by Lynn Mandaville

When I sit down to write a column for Townbroadcast, two things always cross my mind.

First is, who am I that my opinions are worth a grain of salt?   I can usually dismiss this one quickly.  Who is any of us who writes or responds to the ideas expressed here?  We are equally important and insignificant.

Second is, how do I organize my thoughts into cogent, logical essays about whatever topic has become the itch that needs to be scratched?  This is the struggle.

Some weeks it is so easy, because I’ve been thinking on an idea for so long and posing questions to myself, that it writes itself.

Some weeks I have an idea that needs to be researched, and that takes time.

Some weeks I start to write and realize that my logic is wrong, or that I’ve discovered a glitch in my philosophy that reveals my own hypocrisy or bigotry.  These are tough ones, because they involve some serious introspection, and even a rewrite of my beliefs, an admission that I was wrong about something.

Then there is now.

This is a new conundrum.

We are living through a crisis event that has shaken up almost every aspect of our existence as Americans.  I am having a time of it, trying to reconcile the contradictions of reason, like which is worse for the nation, the health consequences (what disabilities or long-term effects will result, or death) or the financial ones (bankruptcies, loss of life savings, loss of a  business, loss of a job).

I cannot put together anything much deeper than to simply pose questions or put forth ponderables.

I cannot decide whether it’s more important to delve into the serious side of the pandemic, or to uplift the lighter side of the ways people are trying to keep a light of hope and understanding shining in dark times.

I wonder if anyone else is feeling the same way.

So today I offer a medley of my greatest hits for week five.  I call it “I’ve Got Those Old Pandemic Blues.”

Body Count

I hate that every day the lead story in the news is the tally of overnight deaths in the U.S. and abroad.  It has, from the very start, jarred me to the core in the same way the daily body count did in the ’60s and ’70s regarding fatalities in the Vietnam War.   Were we supposed to be relieved then that so few American soldiers had died, while at the same time be thrilled at the huge numbers of Vietcong who had been killed?

Every day I’m saddened at the huge numbers that have passed in a 24-hour span, while I’m also relieved that in some places the numbers seem to be declining.  (And being oh, so glad, that no one I know or love is yet among the victims.)

Isolation

Way back at the beginning of this global event, when we began self-isolating, there was a meme going around that said, basically, “Pandemic 2020:  I’ve Been Training For This My Whole Life.”

It is cute gallows humor aimed at those of us who are, by nature, introverts, who prefer to be alone with our thoughts, alone in our pursuits, or in small groups of people with whom we feel safe and secure.  Like my little family, we are perfectly content to go long stretches of time without interacting with others.  Like me and my eldest son, we have been loners since childhood, so we’re experts at isolation.  We’ve rarely been victims of cabin fever.

This part of the pandemic isn’t difficult for us, so we have to dig deep to understand people who are so restless to get back out there that they would repress, or at least underplay, the danger of this virus we don’t yet know enough about so they can get back to normal.

Leadership

We have elected all kinds of folks to lead us through normal times.  And when there are no unusual circumstances, most of them do an admirable job.

These are not normal times.  This is where each of us has to re-evaluate the criteria by which we have chosen our leaders.

So far, Andrew Cuomo, governor of New York, has shown himself to be decisive and firm in his resolve to shut down his state and advocate for New York City, the pandemic epicenter in the U.S.  Cuomo speaks plainly.  His decisions seem based on facts and research.  He relies on experts in various fields to guide him.  He instills confidence that his people are in good hands.

I can’t comment on Michigan’s governor, Gretchen Whitmer, because I don’t follow your politics as closely as I did when I lived in Wayland.

I can, however, comment on my Arizona governor, Doug Ducey.

Mr. Ducey appears to be a man who manages just fine as a governor during uneventful times.  He’s quite comfortable delegating the handling of “normal” tough issues, like he did when Arizona teachers raised the issue of inadequate pay for educators in our state.  Just hand it off to the State Superintendent for the tough questions, for the PR portion dealing with the press.  Ducey seemed to be of the mind that it would all work out in the end.

But when it comes to dealing with this pandemic, Gov. Ducey is as perplexed as any ordinary Joe or Josephine.  When it came to declaring a quarantine, he didn’t know whether to “sh*t or go blind” (as Pop used to say).  He took a wait-and-see attitude, looking to Washington for guidance.

Unfortunately, the president was also using wait-and-see as his strategy.  And to this day, Gov. Ducey is still looking to others to find out which way the wind is blowing.  If the public cries out loudly enough he’ll make a change, but he won’t make a hard decision all on his own.  Right now he is all aflutter over the concept of reopening the economy.  Should he be cautious, or should he fall in with the president’s cavalier attitude?  Unfortunately, it seems our leader has left leadership up to the people.

Change

I’ve heard it said often by many of the talking heads that the only sure thing about the pandemic is that we’ll come out on the other side significantly changed, that life as we know it will not be as it used to be.

Some people offer ideas on specifics, but most seem to think the only certainty is that many things will be different.

It’s become a daily exercise in our house to speculate on what changes will come out of this.  For example, what behind-the-scenes preparations will become normal for television programming?  What has been learned as the nightly talk shows and morning news shows have morphed from studio productions with live audiences, to remote, solo performances from one’s personal “dead” space at home, or from home offices without production assistants?

What has been learned about such tools as Zoom to bridge the gap of close-proximity production to widely scattered collaboration?  And how might what’s being learned be applied to our national emergency broadcast system?  You know, that thing we occasionally see or hear on TV with the yellow, bull’s-eye type logo and the screeching wail that is tested periodically according to FCC rules?

We also wonder what will be learned about methods of public education because teachers are teaching from their home “classrooms” and kids are now showing their parents firsthand what all is involved in transmitting knowledge to children five days a week.  Will remote learning become part of public education to alleviate class sizes?  Will people develop a deeper appreciation for the skills required to educate kids? Will taxpayers come out of this with a different attitude toward financial compensation for the professionals who teach our kids?

And what about our environment?  Will average people gain a more thoughtful outlook on how human activities impact our planet?  I’ve seen before and after pictures of some of the most polluted cities in the world.  Beijing, China, was particularly striking by its loss of camouflaging smog.  Major cities are reporting that those with asthma and other pulmonary conditions are experiencing a significant decline in major respiratory events now that there are so many fewer cars on the road.  National parks are reporting that animal populations are migrating into the areas normally clogged with park visitors.  The National Zoo reported that their pandas have, at long last, successfully mated.  Is it possible that they are shy and haven’t felt comfortable copulating in view of zoo-goers?

Will we learn new strategies for how to handle our new “toxic waste?”  People are taking to wearing disposable gloves when shopping.  People are carrying disinfecting wipes to cleanse surfaces before and after touching them.  But some of them seem perplexed as to how to dispose of those things.  Finding themselves without a convenient trash can, they are stripping off those gloves and leaving them on the parking lot.  They are leaving the wipes behind at the site of the cleaning.  There seems to be a need for change in how to dispose of this trash.

Finally, because there are simply too many changes to ponder, there is how we will greet one another and share space in highly populated environments such as stores, concerts, sporting events, etc.  Will we take to shaking hands again, or will we adopt a new way of starting and ending a social exchange?  Will it be elbow bumps, or maybe an air-high-five?  And will we be less likely to crowd one another around the produce that’s on sale, or at the clearance rack?  Will we fill sports stadiums only half or one third full, seating spectators every third seat?  Will the middle seat on airplanes disappear for good?  It will be interesting to see if anything like that comes out of this.

Only time will tell.  The longer we are quarantined, the more ingrained new behavior will become.  We’ll see it first in our children, who are little sponges when it comes to learning.  Already there are 5-year-olds who know the concept of six feet apart for safety.  They are already singing when they wash their hands, even though they don’t fully grasp the idea of germs and infection and hygiene.  And a lot of us are carrying disinfecting wipes as a matter of course, where before we weren’t germaphobes.

I am, by nature, a cautious person.  I’m what they call risk averse.  I make lists, I sketch, I write first and second drafts.  I plan and anticipate and worry.  It came with my DNA.

So this time of uncertainty is disorienting and uncomfortable.

The news brings us stories that make us laugh and make us mourn.  Stories that make us want to take control, and stories that make us feel helpless.

It’s definitely a roller coaster of moods and attitudes, and I don’t feel emotionally equipped to handle this as I would like.

If you are in my boat, you have my sympathy.  I hope we can reach shore soon and tie up at a new dock more familiar to what we have known.