This afternoon, a messy two-car auto accident occurred outside my home, an ambulance quickly arrived and I found myself being reminded that there are other problems in the world beside the one we're all confronting. A much-less-bad bit of bad news I also saw is that Nate 'n Al's Delicatessen — one of those places that felt as much a part of Southern California as the coastline — is closing for good tomorrow and not intending to reopen when the Zombie Apocalypse has ended.
I am not filling this blog with articles about Trumpian incompetence and arrogance because I'm largely avoiding the news just now and I also figure you can find such articles easily these days. They're certainly plentiful and you have all the time in the world to do that for yourself. At least, we can hope we have all the time in the world. If you go looking for articles, don't miss this one.
One does get the impression that if we want him to do the right thing, we have to all kiss his heinie, tell him he's the greatest friggin' President ever and promise him a second and maybe a third term. If Trump was a lifeguard and you were drowning, he wouldn't lift a finger to rescue you until you promised to be sufficiently grateful.
Someplace on this blog, I think I recently wrote that the phrase, "We need to work together and compromise" had come to mean, "You need to do everything my way." Lately, even in what little news I do read, it seems that "We need to deal with this on a non-partisan basis" means "I get to criticize you but don't you dare say a bad word about me, you slimeball."
And I think I've just had my fill of politics for the weekend. Car crashes aside, things are fine around here. Lydia and Murphy are out in the yard. I'm unworried about supplies. I'm writing the stuff I'm writing. Not too many friends are calling to talk about how terrible things are.
I'm confident it will end and that things will be "sorta normal" again but "sorta normal" will be a long time in the future. Even after the coronavirus becomes a minimal threat, there'll be a slow crawl back towards — but never quite reaching — The Way Things Were. Some things just ain't going to ever be the same again.
Seems like some people are waiting for the day when someone yells "All clear!" and within 48 hours, everything will reopen and the world will be as it was and we can even shake hands again and buy all the toilet paper we want at Costco. The first problem with that is that no one's going to declare "All clear!," at least no one we'll trust. As Election Day draws closer, a certain person I don't want to think about anymore this weekend will probably yell it every day while he insists he and he alone saved us.
What I'm guessing will happen is that at some point, contracting the virus will be 10% less likely and after a while, another 10% less likely…and so on and so on. Everyone will have to decide for themselves how "less likely" it has to get before we'll end our personal isolations. You may decide it's time to go to crowded places again well before I do.
Businesses will have to decide how "less likely" it should be before they reopen and of course, that'll be a chicken-and-egg conundrum: My hair-cutter will resume cutting hair when he feels customers are willing to come in…and customers will consider going in once he reopens. Anyway, that's my answer to folks who ask, "When will it end?" My answer is gradually and at different times for each of us. But it will end.