Musings on the Virus
I’m not sure what to make of the coronavirus.
The primitive part of me believes the planet has begun cleansing itself of an overabundant species that has little respect for its home.
As a person who enjoys entertaining some conspiracies (Napoleon is not buried in Napoleon’s Tomb in Paris; Princess Anastasia did live in New Jersey) I imagine it totally possible that the virus was a biological warfare experiment run amok.
I think I understand the toilet paper hoarding. We are an anal-retentive culture with a cleanliness fetish.
I am convinced that, in the long run, hospitals and the medical establishment, Big Pharm, and insurance companies will benefit.
I am also certain that in the wake of this pandemic, the poor will get poorer, the needy needier, and the rich, richer.
I do not think the airlines, the cruise ship industry, the automakers and—at some point in the very near future—the oil industry, need a bail out. All have enormous assets at a time when borrowing money is almost interest-free. Let them borrow from banks and use the assets as collateral.
Giving each American $1000 or more is problematic. Would this benefit only citizens of voting age and older, or will a family of six with four children get $6000? What about people still employed, living overseas or in the armed forces? Will Green Card holders on their way to citizenship benefit? How about the wealthy, the millionaires and billionaires? (I am a firm believer in Honoré de Balzac’s notion that behind every great fortune lies a great crime.) The complications involved in implementing a massive giveaway are endless, as is the likelihood of scams that, I understand, have already begun to con the unwary.
I am willing to believe that social distancing is necessary, but we’ve been distancing from each other ever since television became popular. The current six-foot separation is the next logical step. The problem for me is that I’m partially deaf, so someone addressing me from two meters away goes unheard. Also, I'm old fashioned. I miss my friends. I miss my writing groups. I miss intense and often meaningless discussions around cups of espresso, and whining and bitching about the sad state of affairs while very aware that I have it pretty damned good. I miss the exchange of ideas and the opinions of others. Several writer friends have suggested we hold virtual meetings using Zoom or some other app, and I’ll probably participate, but every Luddite cell in my body will be protesting...
Also, I feel guilty. So much free time, so many books to finish writing, and I’m not that motivated. I’m not sure why. Many years ago, I would go to Florida for a month, stay in a small apartment and pour out page after page while hardly speaking to anyone. Perhaps my lack of creativity is because this confinement is not voluntary. Today, I stay in my apartment because I neither want to infect nor be infected, but I don’t like it.
We haven’t addressed the problem of conjugal difficulties. People who, after years (or month) together are now no longer enamored will not fare well forced to live in close quarters. We may be expecting a baby boom nine months from now, but in Europe, the divorce boom has begun after only a matter of days.
There is probably an upshot to our present predicament. I understand the skies in China are clearing, and Venice’s canals are pollution-free. I’m sure other benefits will appear in due time, but for now I wonder how all this will turn out, and I do not trust that we will learn much from our mistakes. We so seldom do.
The primitive part of me believes the planet has begun cleansing itself of an overabundant species that has little respect for its home.
As a person who enjoys entertaining some conspiracies (Napoleon is not buried in Napoleon’s Tomb in Paris; Princess Anastasia did live in New Jersey) I imagine it totally possible that the virus was a biological warfare experiment run amok.
I think I understand the toilet paper hoarding. We are an anal-retentive culture with a cleanliness fetish.
I am convinced that, in the long run, hospitals and the medical establishment, Big Pharm, and insurance companies will benefit.
I am also certain that in the wake of this pandemic, the poor will get poorer, the needy needier, and the rich, richer.
I do not think the airlines, the cruise ship industry, the automakers and—at some point in the very near future—the oil industry, need a bail out. All have enormous assets at a time when borrowing money is almost interest-free. Let them borrow from banks and use the assets as collateral.
Giving each American $1000 or more is problematic. Would this benefit only citizens of voting age and older, or will a family of six with four children get $6000? What about people still employed, living overseas or in the armed forces? Will Green Card holders on their way to citizenship benefit? How about the wealthy, the millionaires and billionaires? (I am a firm believer in Honoré de Balzac’s notion that behind every great fortune lies a great crime.) The complications involved in implementing a massive giveaway are endless, as is the likelihood of scams that, I understand, have already begun to con the unwary.
I am willing to believe that social distancing is necessary, but we’ve been distancing from each other ever since television became popular. The current six-foot separation is the next logical step. The problem for me is that I’m partially deaf, so someone addressing me from two meters away goes unheard. Also, I'm old fashioned. I miss my friends. I miss my writing groups. I miss intense and often meaningless discussions around cups of espresso, and whining and bitching about the sad state of affairs while very aware that I have it pretty damned good. I miss the exchange of ideas and the opinions of others. Several writer friends have suggested we hold virtual meetings using Zoom or some other app, and I’ll probably participate, but every Luddite cell in my body will be protesting...
Also, I feel guilty. So much free time, so many books to finish writing, and I’m not that motivated. I’m not sure why. Many years ago, I would go to Florida for a month, stay in a small apartment and pour out page after page while hardly speaking to anyone. Perhaps my lack of creativity is because this confinement is not voluntary. Today, I stay in my apartment because I neither want to infect nor be infected, but I don’t like it.
We haven’t addressed the problem of conjugal difficulties. People who, after years (or month) together are now no longer enamored will not fare well forced to live in close quarters. We may be expecting a baby boom nine months from now, but in Europe, the divorce boom has begun after only a matter of days.
There is probably an upshot to our present predicament. I understand the skies in China are clearing, and Venice’s canals are pollution-free. I’m sure other benefits will appear in due time, but for now I wonder how all this will turn out, and I do not trust that we will learn much from our mistakes. We so seldom do.
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