Covid-19


15
Jan 21

Heading into a snowy weekend

The snow arrived during our afternoon walk. I’d spent the day watching demo reels and trying to offer feedback to students — I’m averaging just over 900 words per review this week. So it was a nice break to take a walk. We ran into a colleague who is a public relations professor. She gave us air hugs, which was cute.

A bit later on our walk the first flurries ran into us. They gave us a stinging face sensation, which was less cute.

Late into the evening it tried and tried and, eventually, the snow began to gain some traction. The ground was cooling, the snow kept falling and so now we have a wet version of snow. Fortunately, we didn’t have to go any farther than the yard today. But, for the first time this season, I found myself saying “If the weather and roads aren’t nasty tomorrow.”

Just before I said that we were discussing Covid vaccinations, because it’s nice to have a new thing to discuss. There’s an economist here who’s been modeling the efficacy of all things Covid, and it seems the state administered almost 25,000 doses yesterday, and about 80 percent of those were first doses. The economist figures that if the state can get up to 26,000 doses per day and hold that rate you’ll see 70 percent of Indiana vaccinated by early July.

This, of course, assumes things about supply. And about distribution. And human error. And whether some of those humans will even want the thing that might keep them from getting sick or saving the lives of others.

It seems a fool’s errand to try to understand which states are doing vaccine distribution better than others, for all of those reasons, but mostly because this has been utterly left to the states. But it’s hard, today, to not feel like we’re finally, finally in that motion that leans the body forward in a vigorous walk.

Our employer is looking to become another distribution point. That’d make three in the county. And it would make it even easier for them to mandate vaccination for everyone returning to campus past some certain point. I have no knowledge of the dates that we’re looking at there, but it seems logical. They required flu shots starting December 1st after all. And if you you vaccinate everyone on campus — students and professionals — then it will be interesting to see what will return to “normal,” and how. There’s an expectation that we’ll be there, or trending there by the fall.

Fall. Hard to fathom. And the battle isn’t even over. Far from it, in fact.

But we’re in that first lean. Some of our family members are scheduled for their first dose next week. Oh, happy day. And, in another state, another important person will be eligible to get scheduled next week. These are all great feelings.

So now it’s time to build some momentum, and to redouble our efforts of being safety conscious.

So we’re staying home, and watching the snow. Some of our shrubs are putting on a nice little show this evening.

And you? Are you staying safe? And looking forward to a big, relaxing, productive, busy weekend?


20
Oct 20

A note from there, to here

The family and holiday questions will be tricky.

Here, we’re simply decisive about Thanksgiving. Others’ plans are starting to enter the national dialogue: Anthony Fauci is telling people to not do Thanksgiving now. His kids are at all four corners and the travel would make it a bad idea. The CDC, it seems, is gearing up to push these unpleasant messages.

We’re about to hit a third Covid case peak any minute now. Maybe a travel holiday makes a fourth? No thanks. My worry, and may it go unrealized, is that we see bad numbers by the third week of December based on Thanksgiving. Christmas is already going to be maudlin in that not-normal way, but it’s potentially going to be like that under the specter of “We were that dangerously impulsive over dry turkey?”

There are two primary problems. Say I get a cootie in my day-to-day professional life. Say I took it to people who didn’t have the cooties. People who are older, who have worked hard to stay healthy. I would, of course, never forgive myself for endangering people I care about. That’s the personal problem. The other is travel. For some, who’s family is just across town, getting there probably doesn’t expose yourself or endanger an entire community. Simple car ride, done. To see my mom, that’s somewhat more risky. I’m gassing up at least once, making a bathroom stop or two, and picking up take out along the way. If you were getting on a plane, doing rest stops, making big travel plans, running travel errands, having to hit restaurants along the way? Wholly different model.

Recently, TSA cleared a million travelers for the first time since the spring. Eventually we get to a critical point of mass. People bring their behaviors, their errors, their accidental transference, and it adds up. That airplane the sick guy is on, the people on his flight potentially take the cootie home to others. From the airport bar where he waits for his connection, someone catching a red eye pick it up, and takes it home to their aunties. Same for the guy making the drinks at the airport bar.

It’s not just my trip, but every joker out there doing the same thing, its compounding interest.

If big events — like Sturgis and political rallies and Rose Garden announcements — are super spreaders, then the next level is the travel spreaders set, the micro-event set. I might be coming from a hotspot to a cooler place. Or vice versa, pending my return. Consider whatever your bunch normally does, 25 people in a house the family outgrew two generations ago? No thanks. I’ll give my thanks from afar.

It boils down to degrees of selfishness. I could do Thanksgiving. Or I could try my darnedest to not risk myself, or others, getting sick.

The more vigilant I am now, the slightly more confident I can be that I’m not gambling with the health of my family if I properly isolate myself before Christmas: I have been cautious.

Which is what the holidays should also be right now, cautious. I can continue to be cautious for myself, and others.

Not everyone can stay in as much as I’m able. I appreciate that. Not everyone is built for it. Introverts will inherit the earth. But I can make the considerable, deliberate choice to not travel, to limit my time in public, for a greater good.

My employer has taken great steps to create a proactive safety culture (and an astoundingly successful one, so far) and is spooling up massive amounts of testing to that end. My job isn’t especially forward-facing after we’ve scaled down on-campus operations and I am diligent about limiting my time outside of the house. It’s worth honoring those efforts and my good fortune.

I am fortunate. I can limit time out to help avoid making a lot of stupid, human mistakes. (Just two so far!) It doesn’t guarantee my health, but it reduces my risk. I have been afforded, and undertaken a great many steps to help create, a fair degree of safety. None of that means I feel especially comfortable risking someone’s health at Thanksgiving.

Like all spring and summer, this remains an easy and small and helpful thing we can do right now: avoiding the unnecessary. Sadly, the usual holiday routine falls in there too. It’ll be harder and bigger and families will feel fractured, but nevertheless, it’s the helpful thing we can do.

The considerate thing.


14
Oct 20

Human beings! We saw some!

You have to like the colors. The colors are rather glorious in this, our peak time of the leaf turn.

It turns colder tonight, and we’ll have a few cool days. At some point, eventually, it has to rain — there’s a moderate drought on just now — and then the rest of the leaves will fall and it’ll be stigs and twigs and the long, boring sigh of a gray, drab winter.

But those colors are something else today!

We visited with our friends Mike and Kate for a few minutes this evening. I dropped off a bunch of milk jugs that they’ll use to start some container planting project. They’ve got a quiet spread out beyond the suburbs and we stood in their driveway and enjoyed the waning sunlight and the nice warm air and a view of a few acres of trees and their company for a few minutes. Many jokes were made! Some of them at my expense!

Even their neighbor came over to say hello. He said his wife had recently retired from 45 years at the university library. Nice fellow, the neighbor. I see him when I ride through that area on my bike. He’s always outside puttering around with something. That might be the wife’s doing.

After he left we stood around and talked about their upcoming trip to see family. What an exotic adventure they will have this next week. I wonder what that’s like. Going places. Staring at different walls. Hearing different creaks in the floorboards. Pitching in with some little project at their place, rather than your own. Seeing people.

Sometimes it is nice just to see people. Well, some of them. You’d like to see them more. In limited and carefully controlled doses. But, as they say, 2020.

This came up in our visit. Why is this the hip thing to say? Why do people think that January 2021 is going to be any different from Apritoberember 2020? And what do New Year’s Resolutions even mean anymore?

Something to think about, alas.

Here are some shows the news team produced Tuesday evening. New anchor, a first-time interview and other fun stuff:

And here are some programs the sports gang put together, that I forgot to include late last week:

Tomorrow they will produce more sports. I’ll be there. I’ll share them here. Tonight, I don’t have anything else to share, except for the dishes. If you’re interested in helping there, come on over. I’ll be sure to give you plenty of social distancing.


26
Aug 20

Kindly wear a mask

A friend of ours made us some really clever artistic masks. She found this pattern, which you can download for a minimal charitable donation. And since she’s crafty, she’s been making her friends — even us! — masks. She says it takes about 10 minutes per mask. I figured that’s for a person who really knows their way around the sewing machine. And then I saw tutorial video, using that pattern, and it took 14 minutes. And that was with the extra “Hey, look at this, because this is a tutorial and I am trying to show you the finer points of making this thing.” So it takes her 10 minutes, and she’s a charming friend who wants the people she cares about to be safe. And stylish.

And because I want the people I care about to be safe, I have a lot of masks now. I have three or four of these custom masks. I’ll wear these on days when I don’t have to interact closely with too many people. I have two the university sent me, which I’ll keep in the office as backups. I a big stack of high quality masks, which I’ll wear for those instances where I do have to work closely with others.

You can’t go onto our campus without wearing a mask. You’re not supposed to go into any non-private building in this county without a mask.

Listening to anecdotes of people I know well, and watching the grim numbers climb and climb and climb, and knowing what I’ve given up this year, I’ve come to a simple formulation. If you can’t wrap your mind around these simple concepts, I don’t have a lot of time for you.

We’re almost six months into this now. This didn’t sneak up on you. This is not a surprise. Something transmitted via droplets, or air, involves your respiratory system. (The external elements of which include your mouth and nose, if you are confused.) Take the necessary precautions. Avoid close contact with people whenever you can. Stay away from crowds. Don’t do silly things like restaurants or big communal events. Wash your hands. Wear a mask.

Yes. Your friends are your friends. Sure, you know them. Of course they are nice people. They wouldn’t be your friends, otherwise. We aren’t talking about sharing needles. And it’d be silly to think they’d willingly do anything maliciously to you. They’re your friends, after all, but we aren’t talking about stealing your wallet.

When your charming, kind, sweet, professional, talented, educated, well-traveled, erudite friends hang out with you, sans precautions, you’re at risk. And so are they. Now this is where logic comes in and it gets fuzzy, but concentrate. If they’re hanging out with you in such a devil-may-care attitude it’s likely they are doing it with their other friends, too. And so on and so on. When one person down that chain gets sick, that’s where it begins, and it comes to you. And then you bring it to people you care about.

You must be proactive. The more proactive you can be, the better. Now, here’s the really, really tricky part. We don’t have to leave this to the fates. You can do those simple things — avoid close contact, crowds, restaurants and communal events and washing your hands and wearing a mask — for yourself and for others. Including those people you would say you care about.

Can’t do that? You’re reckless. You’re selfish.

These are facts; they aren’t up for discussion.


21
Aug 20

Free S&H

Do you know that moment when you’re on a great sale on a website? You put a few things in your cart and then you realize you’re just a few dollars shy of reaching the almost mythical free shipping threshold. You sit there for a while, wondering what sort of algorithms the company used to arrive here.

Sure, they’re not going to ship at a big loss. So that’s the first level. But, then, you have to think about the prices of things on offer. How do they set the tiers such that you’re so often thiiiis close to the free shipping? It’s a sales and marketing ploy, of course, but a brilliant one. And it’s a commonly successful one, too. You knew exactly what we’re talking about here. You’ve been there. We’ve all been there. Just the other day I was there, within three bucks.

And so what do you do?

You try to estimate the amount of shipping. Is that more than you wish to pay? Does this add some definition to the items you’re considering buying? Is the shipping a deal breaker? Or, alternatively, is there something else that you can throw in? Something small that will just nudge you into that free shipping category.

Which is funny because, of course, the three, now four things you’re buying won’t arrive at the same time. That was the case today, when part of my shipment arrived. I’d ordered a few shirts and this tie. It cost five bucks, and “earned” me the free shipping.

Joke’s on them. I need to retire a similar-looking yellow tie, anyway. And a fine, brand new piece of neckwear for just $5? A good joke, indeed.

Joke’s on me. I haven’t worn a tie since March. Who knows when we’ll do that again.