Last week I heard news that the Covid-19 pandemic may be ending soon. Dr. Anthony Fauci blurted out that he believes the US is beyond the pandemic “phase”, but he later clarified that we seem to be out of the “full-blown explosive pandemic phase“. Well, I guess we’re just going to have to wait a little longer. But it looks like cases are decreasing, and the spread is slowing. However, reports indicate there have been far more deaths due to Covid than was previously reported. I mean, this thing was devastating. More than two years ago when we began hearing the news about people getting sick, we knew it would be in the US soon, but immediately people pushed back against prevailing wisdom. As a result the pandemic swept over this country like the wildfire that is currently scorching large areas of New Mexico.
What I expected back in the summer of 2020 was that we would be rid of this pandemic soon, and we were being promised that it was going to be over, and we could all celebrate. I was really looking forward to that day. I even started compiling a playlist, including Lionel Ritchie and some music from the 21st century. I was going to go to street parties and wave glow sticks and dance. I had the mother of all soundtracks ready on my phone, waiting for the announcement. And I continued to wait.
And wait.
But now that it has gone on for so long I don’t feel much like celebrating. The best I can do right now is treating myself to a good chianti. What it lacks in ebullience it may make up for in its ability to pair well with good pasta. Pop the cork, and, hooray! Well, maybe I have a reason to celebrate even if I don’t much like it. We’re healthy and alive! Most everyone I know survived it. Some things got better during the past two years, but it was stressful and difficult as well. We should all be grateful. So why don’t we feel so great?
Many of you probably feel what I’m feeling: the absolute lack of energy that is required to maintain hope. It’s not that I don’t believe that things will get better. But it looks like we’re never going to be rid of this disease. The world will never be rid of the flu for that matter. So we’re going to have to adapt as a people, as a species. I don’t mean that in the way that organisms adapt to changing parameters over time. We are physically adapting all the time. We need to adapt behaviorally, changing the way we live in some ways. That means staying informed, but not being misinformed. Also we have to be ready to act. Maybe we can maintain our protocols: avoiding close contact, washing hands, and so on. But if you like going to concerts and crowded places, you’re going to have to find ways to boost your immunity. It’s a balancing act going forward.
Where am I? I’m in the gambling stage. I went to an outdoor event with lots of people recently. Bumping into people was unavoidable; proximity was impossible to maintain. People wearing masks were rare. It was as if everyone was certain we’re out of the woods. Yet there was a palpable mood of uncertainty and wariness, like a low cloud promising to bring rain. Even though most everyone at the event was having a good time and happy to be alive, I felt that weight of restraint, like watching your team pull ahead but knowing the other side could come back at any moment.
What we’re experiencing is somewhat of a pyrrhic victory, that is, victory at too great of a cost when you look back. This sort of win doesn’t feel like victory, and we might not recognize it when surveying the damage. In the midst of overcoming Covid we were also facing the possibility of World War III. So now we have much more to worry about. I don’t feel much like celebrating, but I can at least be glad that I’m alive.
Bebop Marmaduke 