Cleveland.com
Copyright © 2020
by Ralph F. Couey
Written content only
Some hopeful news today. Rates of new infections of the novel corona virus in China, Italy, and Germany appear to have peaked and are decreasing. People in Wuhan, where this all started, have begun to return to work. New York Governor Cuomo in his daily presser, using some of the most careful, cautious, and circumspect language ever to come from a politician, seemed to suggest that the curve in New York state was about to flatten and perhaps to decrease. Other areas in the world, including most of the United States are still seeing increases. But still, it seems that we might be about to turn the corner on this pandemic. To quote Winston Churchill, "Now, this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning." Make no mistake, there are still rough days ahead. But that distant glimmer of light at the far end of this tunnel is beginning to be discernible.
We celebrated Palm Sunday today, marking the day when Jesus Christ entered Jerusalem on a colt, heading towards His penultimate confrontation with the Sanhedrin and Rome. Of course, we did it via teleconference. I have to tell you, it felt a little weird at first. But when folks started checking in, the conversations started, and the sheer joy of people finding each other again made me ache for their physical presence. Yes, I miss the hugs.
This experience is one of those paradigm-changing events in history. Pearl Harbor, the Cuban Missile Crisis, 9/11 were all moments that forever changed us and our way of life. A few days ago, I pondered whether we could recover emotionally from this, and that question still floats in my mind. But I spent some time today considering how our lives will be permanently changed by our passage through this particular crucible.
After December 7th, Americans realized that they could no longer hide from the rest of the world. The economic and military powerhouse that emerged from World War II was a fact of life and forced us to alter our pre-war isolationist thinking. The Cuban Missile Crisis forced us to face, really face the spectre of nuclear annihilation. 9/11 reminded us that no matter how hard we try to hide from the rest of the world, the rest of the world will eventually come hunting for us. Beyond that, these events, especially 9/11 altered the way we live our lives. The whole pattern of air travel became a security event. "If you see something, say something" became the new mantra. Some may have considered that overkill. But I can tell you, having worked in the counter-terror field, the number of potential terror attacks that were stopped because someone noticed something out of kilter and reported same run well into five figures. Of course, up until this event, we still went about our daily lives, but still cast an occasional look over our shoulders.
A pandemic is fundamentally different than geopolitical events. There is no visible enemy. The invisible army of corona virus has as its soldiers innocent people who for the most part were totally unaware of the bio-weapon they were carrying, and completely innocent of any evil intent. The actual enemy is only visible under the most sensitive scientific instruments. When it strikes, it does so out of the clear blue with no warning whatsoever. A pandemic generates a completely different kind of fear; the worst kind, fear of the unknown. And when it finally runs its course, it will leave behind the wreckage of a world completely transformed.
All of us had mothers who constantly badgered us about washing our hands and cleaning our rooms. While we blew them off sometimes, we now know how smart they were. And are. The plain truth is that if the most learned physicians of the 14th century had known what all moms know today about infectious disease, its possible that the infamous Black Plague might not have happened. In the wake of this latest pandemic, nobody, and I mean nobody will ever underestimate the value of clean hands. Not only hands, but environments as well. At work, we will from this point routinely sanitize our computers, keyboards, mice, and phones with strong disinfectant. The familiar smell of sanitizing chemicals will become the perfume of the modern workplace. We used to chuckle at people who went around wearing masks, poo-pooing them as irrepressible hypochondriacs. Nobody's laughing anymore.
Even when we are officially clear of this pandemic, I think there will still be some reluctance to participate in large public gatherings. In this, I'm mainly thinking of sporting events that have become so much a part of our lives. As a Chiefs fan, I saw the gathering of 80,000 screaming disciples at Arrowhead Stadium as a marvelous expression of community. Now I may look at those crowds and wonder how many of them are sick. Social distancing is becoming a part of life now. How many of us will still maintain that 6-foot bubble around themselves? Could being caught in a large crowd, say at a traffic light, become the source of some incipient claustrophobia? Or, more accurately, mysophobia. (Yes, it has a name.)
I could see a situation where public mass transit and the airlines might require showing a vaccination card, or something that identifies the holder as a recovered patient, and thus carrying the antibodies that will make them immune from further infection. Knowing now the infection threat of a cough or sneeze, people suffering from a simple cold, or even allergies could become pariahs, spurned and feared by others. No longer will employers insist that people with slight or moderate illnesses gut through the day at work. The new orders? If you're ill, stay at home. Also, those businesses which formerly were reluctant to allow telecommuting on the grounds that people who work from home are inherently less productive are likely to alter their thinking. They may be looking at the square footage filled with cubicles and computers and decide that that is an expense they don't need and physically downsize. Because of that, the most popular and demanded new space in any house will be the home office. Perhaps two of them.
Most businesses are shuttered. Those who still can are offering their wares through carryout and online ordering. But the social businesses -- restaurants, bars, clubs, bowling alleys -- are for the most part small businesses. Major chains will likely survive and come back. But for those neighborhood hangouts, the owners won't have the financial resources to pay months of rent or mortgage payments while waiting for the all-clear to be sounded. Once they close, they'll be gone for good.
The only source of glee in all this has been the dramatic downturn in traffic. Daily commutes, for those of us still required to work, have become a joyful journey at highway speeds, instead of the snail-like pace of before. Gasoline, the lifeblood of any vehicle, is as cheap as its been in decades, as the global price of crude oil continues to sink. Of course, now that we can fill our tanks on the cheap, there's no place to go.
Hawai'i lives and dies on the tourist dollar. On a normal day, there are around a quarter of a million visitors on the island, staying in hotels, eating in restaurants, and buying cheesy souvenirs. Waikiki, the heart of the tourist mecca is a ghost town, stores and eateries closed, and the streets populated by the homeless and HPD foot patrols. For some reason, people are still coming here, although the numbers are in the two-digit range. I don't know why. They will have to quarantine in their hotel rooms for two weeks, and even if they can afford to stay that long, nothing is open. City and county beaches, all museums and attractions, bars, restaurants, clubs, everything and anything someone would come here to see are unavailable. Local police on all the islands are daily arresting visitors who think the quarantine rules don't apply to them.
Cheryl and I snuck out last week and found a state beach up at Ka'ena Point that was still open. And vacant. We needed some decompression time, and sitting there on the sand listening to the calming sounds of the surf was wonderful. A part of me feels guilty because technically we were violating the rules. But our emotional health is on firmer ground today, so I feel assuaged.
There are likely a thousand other elements that will irrevocably change because of this experience, most of which we won't realize at first. But if the statisticians are right, and this thing is beginning to slope downwards, then we can begin to confront that new reality. Some change will be for the better, others will not. But I think we should take a mental snapshot of this event and how it affected our lives and our world. We should collect and save these stories as a way of informing future generations of what life was like during the Great COVID-19 Pandemic.
Not that they would believe a word of it.
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