Tag: Covid (Page 4 of 5)

Covid Chronicles, 4/13

April 13, 2020 / DB

Well, it is April 13, Easter is behind us, and after a week-plus of fine-to-perfect weather, suddenly it feels like winter again. Currently the winds are roaring, the sky is filled with thick, angry clouds, and the windchill is a nippy 26 degrees. Ah, life in the Midwest!

These last gasps of winter this time of year always suck. Over the past week the trees have all budded out; flowers and ornamental grasses are emerging; and the yard is that almost painful shade of green that comes after some rain, some warm weather, and its first cutting of the year. Everything visual screams spring. And then you step outside. Oh well, soon enough we’ll be bitching about the heat and humidity.

We had a successful, modified Easter Sunday. While we had no direct plans with extended family, we did get almost all of S’ siblings and parents together on a Zoom call. Later we had our own Easter dinner. We had ham – grocery store rather than Honey Baked but it was fine – shrimp, company potatoes. M made deviled eggs. We had a salad. C and L did most of the work on a fancy cake. It didn’t quite turn out like the Pintrest pics but most of the errors were in the parts that I did, so they get an A for their work.

We also had two birthday drive-bys over the weekend. On Saturday we cruised over to the old neighborhood as M’s buddy was turning 16. We ended up hanging out in the street for 30 minutes or so, chatting with many of our old neighbors while casting eyes at our old house to see how much work the new owners had done. Sunday L had a friend turning 12 and we were part of a large parade outside her house.

I love these. It sucks for kids to not be able to have parties, go out to dinner, etc on their birthdays. But these drive-bys will ensure they are special and memorable.

With so much time to waste, I find myself doing a lot of Ebay browsing. I don’t normally spend a ton of time on Ebay. Every now and then I’ll buy something on it, usually for things adjacent to whatever my hobby of the moment is. It’s been years since I’ve sold anything on the platform. These days I find myself looking at golf clubs a lot. My instructor told me to wait to buy clubs until we have my swing more locked in. Who knows when I’ll get to see him again, let alone get out and play. Yet I keep scrolling through clubs I’m interested in, putting ones I like in my Watch List. I’m also spending a lot of time on 2nd Swing and other used club sites. I haven’t bid on anything on Ebay so far. But I have put several clubs into my basket on 2nd Swing and others to reveal their discounted price. I feel like I don’t have much willpower right now and a purchase is bound to happen.

In the real world, the numbers and news seem to be shifting in a more positive direction, even if slowly. In general this is a good thing. Fewer sick people, fewer people dying, less crowded hospitals, etc.

I worry greatly about this news, though. I worry about all the people, encouraged by a large swath of the media and political world, who are using this as an excuse to ignore the scientists and doctors who have warned us about the scale of this pandemic. I worry that the President is going to ignore how the worst numbers were always a long-term projection, not just about April/May, and use it as an excuse to drop social distancing recommendations. I worry that even people who have taken this seriously, who have followed the guidelines for hunkering down, will combine these numbers with their restlessness, with their financial concerns, with their desire to get back to normal, and also will rush to get back to normal too soon.

Outside New York, Seattle, and a few other hot spots, we Americans have been extraordinarily fortunate so far. As bad as our numbers are, they seem to be focused on those distinct areas. Emergency departments in many areas are not seeing the flood of patients they expected. Numbers are trending the right way. But that doesn’t mean this is over. Flattening the curve was never about ending this quickly. It was about giving our health care system a chance to manage the crisis. Part of flattening the curve meant stretching the pandemic out over the course of this year and into next year, when a natural second wave was likely to hit anyway. If we jump back into normalcy too soon, all those worst-case scenarios will come flooding back into the realm of the possible, just in June or July or August rather than April.

This is a deeply sucky time. Until our government(s) demonstrate the ability to manage it properly, we all need to resist the urge to completely jump back into our pre-Covid routines. We may be able to slowly lift restrictions, a few at a time. But the lives we led in February aren’t completely coming back for a long time.

Covid Chronicles, 4/8

April 8, 2020 / DB

One of my memories of April 4, 1988, was what a glorious day it was. Sunny, in the 80s, and perfect. At least in Kansas City. I remember going to Dairy Queen with friends after school and then mowing the lawn in the lead up to the national championship game. It was one of those early spring days in the Midwest that fools you into thinking summer is closer than it actually is.

We are currently in a nice run of similar days. Yesterday it was pushing 80. Today it will again be in the mid–70s. We’ve been able to wear shorts outside for several days. I’ve likely spent too much time in the sun already. There has been a lot of shooting baskets, hitting practice golf balls, taking bike rides, and decorating the driveway with chalk. We even talked about opening the pool, although I’ve put off calling our pool service.

Alas, as I said, these days are big teases. After today there isn’t a single day in the extended forecast where the high will be above 60. Several days it will only be in the 40s. We have several hard freezes ahead of us at night.[1]

These warm days almost make our lockdown tolerable. It’s like being asked to shelter at home in San Diego. With the weather about to turn, and the national news getting worse each day, the next 7–10 days are going to be a mental struggle.

One horrible story I have not shared yet is that a CHS student was shot and killed two weeks ago. He was a junior, so M did not know him. He was also a very good football player, one of the team’s best defensive backs last year who often returned punts and kicks as well.

The story reveal has been rather strange in the local media. The day of the shooting there was a story about it, saying two men were shot and killed while a juvenile had been taken to the hospital in critical condition. No names were given. M quickly heard through the CHS grapevine that the student had died. We assumed he was the juvenile and there were three fatalities.

A day later there was a story in the paper about his death, with reaction from the football coaches, fellow players, and school administrators. There was no mention in the story of his cause of death or that he had even been involved in the shooting incident.

M later heard a rumor that, whatever caused the event, the football player had jumped in front of his younger brother to protect him during the shooting. So the football player must have been 18 and one of the dead adults while his brother was the juvenile who went to the hospital. We have not heard how he is doing.

The school had a drive-through memorial service, where families could drive up the school hill to pay their respects. There was an online service.

Just an awful story in a terrible time.

S and I took a walk the other night around the high school across the street. There were a few kids on the football field doing workouts. As we approached the soccer fields we saw some guys out playing. Just then another car pulled up and 6–7 more guys hopped out. S and I looked at each other, shook our heads, and she said, “Well, maybe they’re all brothers.” Then they started jumping over and crawling under the fence, or squeezing between the gates to get into the fields. She cringed further, worried one of them would get carved up.

As always, teenage boys aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer.

I’ve been out twice this week, Monday morning for a quick grocery store run and today to Costco for the first time since early February. Both times I wore a mask, as that is now the thing to do. When I first walked into the grocery story Monday, the first 5–8 people I saw were all mask-less and I started to feel self conscious. Fortunately as I got deeper into the store I saw more and more people who were wearing masks. At Costco it was probably 60–40 masks to no masks. I was surprised how many employees were working without masks on.

I get that masks can be hard to find. They are uncomfortable. I was at the grocery store right when they opened at 7:00, so perhaps some people thought they could get in and out without needing one. And some people, honestly, may not have heard that the guidance on whether to wear a mask or not has changed. I refuse to judge people for what they do or do not do. It’s an emotional enough time without people giving you the stink eye. I just hope they are washing their hands thoroughly when they get home.

I’m going out more than I should, mostly because I wanted to get that Costco trip in and with it being Easter week we are slowly putting together a menu for Sunday that will likely require another trip out. I’m justifying all these tripes since I seem healthy, I’m wearing a mask, I’m going as soon as stores open and they are not crowded, and I’m getting in-and-out quick. I’ll likely cut way back next week, though. I get nervous about being out so much.

Speaking of masks, I keep seeing people driving with them on. I understand if they are delivery people who are constantly encountering people. But I’ve seen people who live down the street leave or come back with their masks on. Which I think is really weird. If you’re by yourself in your car, you don’t need to wear the mask. Maybe they just worry they will forget to put it on when they get to their destination if they don’t do it as soon as they get into the car?

One thing I keep thinking of is the long-term effects all of this will have on people. Not in terms of the economy, jobs, finances, etc. More in terms of how my grandparents were scarred for life by the Depression. My mom’s mom, who was a farmer’s wife, could not throw out food to save her life. Even if there was a tiny bite of something left, she would pack it into Tupperware and stash it in the fridge. Those little bites served as lunch additions or snacks between meals. Often on Saturday nights she would pull everything out and lay it out across the table, and you made a plate from the accumulated leftovers from the week. She also let me have root beer floats with my dinner on those nights, so as much as I hated having to eat week-old casserole, I kind of enjoyed those summer, Saturday nights I spent at their house.

But those were the scars that trying to survive in rural Kansas during the Depression left.

How will this period, however long it lasts, affect us? Will Americans begin wearing masks more often? Will we, in general, practice better hand hygiene? Will more people keep their pantries and freezers stocked for potential moments of food supply disruption? Will social distancing become deeply ingrained in our society? Will people who are young kids today always be fearful of strangers, as their parents tell them to stay away from people at the park, while taking walks through the neighborhood, etc.?

There are likely long-term effects that we aren’t aware of yet that our grandkids will laugh at us for in 20–30 years.

Maybe that will kill all the wasps and yellow jackets that have been buzzing around. ↩

Old School Gaming

April 6, 2020 / DB

It should be national championship night. Maybe KU would be playing tonight in the school’s ninth title game seeking their fourth NCAA title. The Chicago Tribune ran a simulation and had the Jayhawks beating Michigan State tonight to indeed grab the 2020 nets. USA Today had KU beating Dayton on a buzzer-beating shot.

Alas, there was no tournament this year so we’ll never know if Dot, Dok, Marcus and company could have won four to six games to hang another banner in Allen Fieldhouse.

With the lack of a Final Four this weekend, I reached back to my past to rediscover one of the most beloved teams of my life: the 1988 Jayhawks. I watched the Elite Eight game against Kansas State, the national semifinal game against Duke, and the title game against Oklahoma. Thank goodness for YouTube!

My memories of that 1988 tournament run are, naturally, some of my favorites ever. But it had been awhile since I watched any of these games. Back in the day I watched them often, the tapes of them some of my most sacred possessions. So reviewing the YouTube videos quickly shook free memories that had been gathering dust for years and years. I sensed when big moments were coming, I remembered exact phrases the announcers used.

That ’88 KU squad was about as star-crossed a team as you will ever find. They seemingly couldn’t get a break in the regular season, losing six players to injury, grades, or other issues. Larry Brown had to recruit two football players just to have enough bodies for practice. They lost five of six games and were hoping to end Danny Manning’s career with an NIT home game.

Then, following a 21–11 regular season, KU got every break possible in the NCAA Tournament.

First round opponent Xavier badmouthed host city Lincoln, NE and Manning. The Jayhawks waxed the Musketeers by 13 to open the tournament. Instead of #3 seed NC State, which featured seven players who got NBA minutes, KU faced Murray State in the second round and survived by three to advance to the Sweet 16.

Waiting for them was #7 seed Vanderbilt who had upset the big, physical #2 seed Pittsburgh. Manning abused Will Perdue for 38 points and it was onto the Elite 8 where in-state rival K-State was waiting after knocking off top-seed Purdue. This was likely the greatest team in Purdue history – Troy Lewis, Todd Mitchell, Everette Stephens, and Melvin McCants gave the Boilermakers four studs – and KU would have had no chance against them. In the regional championship game, K-State controlled the game for large stretches of the first 32 minutes until a KU run gave them control and they cruised to a 13-point win. Scooter Barry played the game of his life on a day when Mitch Richmond was harassed by KU’s stifling defense.

Improbably it was back to Kansas City for the 50th Final Four and a meeting with Duke, who had beaten the Jayhawks a month earlier in Lawrence. KU jumped out early, leading 14–0 and 26–4.[1] Duke came roaring back. A three-point shot that could have turned it into a two-point game spun out with about 4:00 left, and Duke never got closer than four after that.

Somehow KU would be playing for the national title. They would take on Oklahoma, who had beaten them twice by eight points in the regular season. That OU team was loaded. Harvey Grant was a first team All Big 8 player on the greatest All Big 8 team of all time: Manning, Grant, Mitch Richmond, Derrick Chievous, and Jeff Grayer. OU also had Stacey King, who would be the 1989 Big 8 player of the year and Mookie Blaylock, one of the greatest defensive guards to ever play in the Big 8. The Sooners had lost just three times, scoring over 100 points an amazing 20 times.

KU famously ran with the Sooners for the first half, 20 minutes of gorgeous basketball than ended in a 50-all tie. The second half was more deliberate, and the teams traded leads until KU stretched out a lead in the closing five minutes. A massive, last second, flip-it-and-hope shot by Chris Piper splashed through as the shot clock expired at the 4:00 mark and KU was up by six. Kemper Arena was a madhouse, sounding more like a game in Lawrence than in a “neutral” setting.

KU closed poorly, though. Manning took two-straight poor, rushed shots that missed.[2] KU missed three of four free throws. Blaylock stole an inbounds pass. But Oklahoma could not take advantage. They got the lead down to two points once, but Scooter Barry and Manning closed the game hitting five of six free throws to clinch the title. Oklahoma, a team with three NBA first round picks, had lost to Manning and a bunch of spare parts. Milt Newton took terrible shots all weekend that all seemed to crawl in. He went 6–6 in the title game. Clint Normore, one of the football players, played 16 minutes, scored seven points, and was also perfect from the field. Piper, a Lawrence High School product who was playing injured, scored eight points and had seven rebounds, which would have tied for a team-best on Oklahoma.

And Manning. Good grief! In one of the greatest title game performance ever, he scored 31, grabbed 18 rebounds, had five steals, two blocks, and two assists.

Danny and the Miracles indeed.

So many feelings went through me watching these games. Manning was so freaking good. He’s the alpha KU player of my life, the clear #1 player in modern program history. But without seeing him in action for so long I forgot how insanely good he was. He had that quick, unstoppable jump hook. When I used to play a lot of pickup ball I tried to mimic Drew Gooden’s jump hook. Gooden’s shot was great, but it was nowhere near Manning’s shot. Manning could pass, flipping quick passes through gaps in the defense. He could dribble pretty well for his size and relative to his era. He was a strong rebounder. He could block shots. What really stuck out, though, was how he was so fundamentally sound and relied on that and not great athleticism to get the job done. He was fast, he was a decent jumper. But KU has had 30 big men who were more athletically impressive than Manning. He was miles beyond anyone else when it came to the basic skills of the game.

Larry Brown coached a perfect game. On a team that had lost most of its depth, he found a way to get decent minutes out of four bench players. He adjusted his offense throughout the night, always a step-ahead of Billy Tubbs. And for a coach known for mentally wearing down his players, he pulled every correct string to get a team that had no business playing for a national title to believe they were the best team on the court that night.

I remember that night, April 4, 1988, vividly. I trust as long as I am alive I will. I realized while watching these grainy copies of old VHS tapes on YouTube how long ago these games were. They were 32 years ago! It is crazy how moments like this, about sports, can stick with you forever.

The 2008 was the greatest KU team ever. But the 1988 team will always be my favorite.

In the game in Lawrence KU lead 28–6 before losing in overtime. ↩
On of my favorite images from the game came during a timeout shortly after Manning’s second miss. As he walked to the bench, Brown walked toward him, smile on his face, pressing his palms down, saying “Calm down! Calm down!” Manning returned Brown’s smile. I love that. You can see that Manning, the best player in college that year, was amped up knowing he was moments away from a national title. It was such a human and authentic moment. ↩

Covid Chronicles, 4/2

April 2, 2020 / DB

The latest in America’s favorite new blog series!

Last night I had my first Zoom meeting with friends. Most of those buddies check in here on the blog occasionally – Nez, E$, Sir Dave, The Piddler – and we’ve been texting often. But it was still great to see their faces, have a conversation, and make a human connection.

Yesterday the Indianapolis mayor extended our city’s shelter in place order through May 1. Not a surprise, and I continue to be fine with moving these dates back slowly rather than going ahead and saying “OK, everything is shut down until June 1/July1/2023 or whatever.”

What was upsetting was that as a part of his order he decided to shut down golf courses. I had not gone out to play golf, mostly because I don’t feel comfortable leaving the girls home alone right now if S has to go to the hospital, and I don’t want to drive 20–30 minutes to get to a course when you’re not supposed to be out of the house. However, I had hoped if the weather dried up a bit I could run up to the pitch and putt course that is five minutes away next week. As many folks have pointed out, on a golf course you’re in a wide open space and even if you have playing partners you can create plenty of distance between others. Meanwhile on the walking trails you are constantly getting within six feet of others.

I get how this is purely about optics and it is pretty low on the list of things to worry about. I guess I’ll have to continue to be content to hit balls in the basement and practice balls in the front yard once it stops raining.

Speaking of indoor golf, I did order myself a practice putting mat a few weeks back. I got a model recommended by a brother-in-law and have been spending about 30 minutes each day on it. Hopefully it makes a difference if I can ever play “real” golf again.

This morning S got a call from the St P’s gym teacher. He is a great guy and we had heard he was checking in on other families. He spoke with her for several minutes just to make sure we were all doing ok and that the girls were getting outside. He doesn’t know us very well – thus the call to S rather than me – and when he asked how we were doing she mentioned that I was the at-home parent and she was a physician and has been in the hospital a few days. That elicited a whole series of questions on her opinion of where we are at and how long this will last. I’m sure that info will get passed along the line.

In global news, it is hard not to get bogged down in numbers. There are the numbers of infected/dead across countries and states. Models for what may happen and when they think it will happen. Numbers of unemployed, dollars for recovery efforts, etc. Just so many numbers, and numbers that change depending on what source you look at.

A detail about numbers I learned Tuesday that amazed me was how the daily reports we get are skewered. The Indiana state health commissioner noted that when they say X deaths were reported on day Y, that doesn’t mean X people actually died that day. Some may have died days ago but their positive test results just came back. I never thought of that, and it suggests that as testing gets better/faster that could shoot the numbers up even higher as the accounting of bodies catches up.

Then this morning I read an article that dove into the number of dead in Italy and Spain. It looked at the historic numbers of people who died in a specific area over a specific time frame, compared that to how many dead were reported over that span this year, then looked at how many of those deaths were officially related to Covid–19.

In one region in Spain the historic number was 500, the 2020 number was 835, but the Covid number was only 121. That means there were an “extra” 214 deaths. Some of those, the study said, were marked down as having general causes of death like pneumonia that could be Civid-related but did not have a positive test. Others simply weren’t tested.

If you figure this will be the case across the globe, the final, true death toll will be much higher than the numbers we are getting now. Yeesh, more good news.

I think I’ve said this before but each day is a constant blend of fascination and terror. There’s the fascination of this totally unique world event. As a history buff of holder of a political science degree, both the daily developments and their long-term ramifications are completely engrossing.

But there’s always that terror to balance. Most studies continue to show that a huge majority of people who get seriously ill from the coronavirus have underlying health issues. One study I saw showed over 80% of Civid-positive people who required hospitalization had a chronic issue like diabetes, heart disease, etc. And for the sickest people, those who require admission to the ICU, the number was even higher.

Yet everyday you hear stories of people in their 30s, 40s, and 50s who were otherwise healthy and suddenly got sick and deteriorated rapidly. My first thought is wondering how many of these people had some undiagnosed illness that had already chipped away at their immune systems and prevented their bodies from fighting off the virus. But even then, that leaves a section of people who were indeed relatively healthy and succumbed quickly.

That’s the stuff that scares the crap out of me. I’m being careful in my travels outside of the house. When we take a walk or see the neighbors at the mailbox I am careful to keep a distance from others. I wash my hands often. What if there is already some bomb ticking inside of me, though, that I wouldn’t otherwise have discovered for years that has knocked my immune system down just enough that, should I get infected, makes fighting it troublesome?

This is a minor worry compared to that for S, though. She’s having to go into hospitals and medical offices several days a week. She’s seeing patients occasionally. While in most cases she is isolated from people who have tested positive, by being out of the home and in an environment where sick people pass through, her risk factor is much higher.

The odds are very low that either of us will get sick, and then that either of us will get seriously ill. But those odds are still greater than zero, and the more stories you hear about people here in the US dying, the more you think about the worst cases and all the implications that come with that.

Hey, happy Thursday!

Covid Chronicles, 3/30

March 30, 2020 / DB

Happy spring break, everyone! So excited to leave dreary, cold Indiana behind for a week in sunny, warm…

Well shit. We weren’t even supposed to go someplace warm, but it is still crappy to remain stuck at home rather than on day two of skiing in Colorado. Who knows, maybe staying home means one of us didn’t break a leg or blow out an ACL on the slopes. Regardless of what is going on here, we are glad the resorts shut down as the Keystone-Vail corridor is apparently a hotspot thanks to at least one person who traveled from Italy to that area in early March.

The past week has been very boring. The stress and excitement of the first week of being stuck at home wore off. The girls got into a routine, but that routine was not ideal. If she didn’t have an early class meeting, M was sleeping until 10 or so before she woke to get started on her assignments for the day. She was generally busy all day, each day. C and L again got most of their work done early in the week and spent the rest of the week on screens large and small. L got outside quite a bit, as the weather was decent most of the week. We played a lot of HORSE and took a few bike rides.

I did have to re-teach myself some fifth grade math – dividing fractions – as L got a little stuck and her online resources weren’t clear in what she was supposed to be doing. I had to break down and call a friend who used to be a math teacher to make sure I was on the right track. Math is my biggest worry for the two younger girls. I hate for them to get behind or I teach them something wrong and it affects how they perform in the future. I imagine teachers all over the country are trying to figure out how to avoid this, and lesson plans next fall will be adjusted to make sure kids aren’t too far behind.

We’ve been pretty hands off with their eLearning, though. We let them know we are available to help, remind them to check in with their teachers if they run into issues, and make sure assignments are being completed. They all seem to be getting everything turned in and getting full credit, so we will continue to let them operate independently when they jump back in next week.

Last Wednesday was an absolutely glorious day. It was in the upper 60s, the skies were clear, the winds were calm. Our street was a constant stream of dog walkers, runners, and bikers. We adjusted our meal plan for the week to throw some burgers on the grill, as it was the perfect grilling day. While we were outside we could smell other people’s grills and hear folks playing music outside. In the evening there were fireworks scattered about. It was an impromptu celebration of the beautiful weather and an opportunity it get outside after just over a week of most of the world staying inside.[1]

In these strange times people are doing strange things. For example, over the weekend the Indy radio station that plays Christmas music between Thanksgiving and Christmas pulled out all those tunes from Friday evening through last night. Even I, the “Christmas Music Must Only Be Played During the Holidays” zealot tuned in for a bit. I felt weird doing it, not because it was out of season, but because I didn’t know how it made me feel. Was this a momentary adjustment to bring some joy to a grim time? Or was it a sign that the end of the world was nigh and we might as well enjoy things we may never get a chance to enjoy again?

It felt especially weird to listen to the station Saturday. We had the windows open to enjoy the near–80 degree weather, there were thunderstorm watches and warnings, and late in the evening we had a torrential downpour that flooded our yard. It didn’t exactly look a lot like Christmas.

I made a grocery run early Sunday. It was designed to be a small, quick trip so I went to the grocery store around the corner. I had been there two weeks earlier and found it was very much picked over. Things seem to have stabilized, though, as I was able to get just about everything on my list plus a number of additions I made on the fly.

It is a sign of the times that you leave a grocery store with an immense feeling of relief if you get 90% of what you needed.

Normally we run our pantry and fridge/freezer pretty tight. I will shop early each week and plan on 3–4 dinner ideas, knowing we’ll squeeze in a leftover night, likely a dinner out, maybe a “cereal for dinner” night, and then figure out a plan for the weekend when Friday rolls around.

Now I keep a very detailed list of how many dinner options we have. Where we are normally good for a few nights, and I often have to run out to grab a few things multiple times during the week, I currently have us set up to get through at least a week, likely closer to two. Our freezer is jam-packed and I’m making plans to have some electrical work done to add a freezer to the basement once this is over. I’m constantly checking the list to assure myself that I don’t need to venture out to a store again for a few days.

It is these little obsessions that give you an anchor in these uncertain times.

Test note ↩

Covid Chronicles, 3/25

March 25, 2020 / DB

I find myself bouncing between hope and despair quite often these days. The numbers from Italy and Spain are so staggering, and our country’s reaction so inept, that it is difficult not to live in great fear of what comes next. But I also know that despite all the issues we have had in preparing for this, America tends to do pretty well at crisis once we can get moving in the right direction. We have tons of amazing scientists working on the problem. The best pharmaceutical, bio-tech, and straight tech companies in the history of man are focused on finding solutions. Whole swaths of our manufacturing base will eventually pivot to fight this. I’m not much for prayer, but I do pray that we get our big, American machine cranked up in time to make a difference.

Indiana officially entered lockdown today. I chuckled to hear that beauty salons were absolutely packed up until midnight last night. I say that because S had her monthly hair check-in a week ago and was thrilled that she got in before things shut down. Especially since she had to film a video for her health network.

We are letting M and C color their hair. I’m not sure what they picked but I know orders have been placed and packages are en route. I’m kind of excited to see what they picked. L wasn’t interested but did ask if she could do a mohawk or something. We think she was kidding but we said absolutely not.

I’ve noticed significantly less traffic on the main road outside our house today, so perhaps people are taking the shut down seriously.

I went out for groceries first thing Tuesday and although it was just before 7:00, it was still strange for there to be so little traffic. It felt more like a Sunday morning.

No issues at the grocery store. I got 90% of what I needed, but that was also because I went to a bigger grocery store a few miles away instead of the ones closer to our house. I did my shopping in 30 minutes or so then got in line. There was a single line for all registers, even the self-check out ones, that stretched about halfway through the store. It took me a little over half an hour to finally reach the register, which wasn’t terrible. People were being polite, although there was very little interaction. I tried to smile and say excuse me to everyone, but most people would mutter something back and not make eye contact.

The entire time I was in the store I kept thinking, “I hope I don’t pick up any germs while I’m here.” I’m not normally a germaphobe but I think we all are now.

I had a little tickle in my throat last week that seemed to go away quickly. Except for there was always a little hint of pain still there, like that warning you get a few days before a cold. I wondered if I was really fighting something off or if it was just nerves. Yesterday I was a little sneezy and my throat began hurting again. Today, fine. Never any Covid-specific symptoms. As bad as spring colds can be, it’s kind of funny that you are relieved if you begin exhibiting signs that are more cold-related. “Sneezing, itchy eyes, sinus headache? Thank goodness!”

A couple times I’ve tried to write about the economic impact of all this. It always ends up being too daunting, though. Because the fact is our economy is fucked, and fucked real good. I like to think that whenever this ends, society will pick right back up and get moving again. I realize that’s pretty naive, though. It is going to be very difficult to get all the gears of the economy turning again, and large swaths of the world will be affected by this for a long time. I also think about these billions and trillions we will be spending in the coming months and wonder where those dollars come from. Eventually we have to pay the bills which is a whole other level of crap to dump on an economy that is attempting to restart.

So from that perspective I have an understanding of what people who are arguing that we shouldn’t kill the economy to kill the virus are getting at. There are likely some ways to split the difference, as South Korea has done, but our country does not seem prepared or willing to take the steps required to pull off that balancing act.

And I, too, have been disheartened by those graphs that show how controlling the coronavirus now likely means another spike or two later this year. Our sacrifices now seem futile if we may have to scurry inside again in six months.

But these people who continue to argue that we should be back to normal in two weeks are utterly insane. Their comparisons to how the seasonal flu, car accidents, etc do not interrupt the economy are so insulting and infuriating. Yes, tens of thousands of people die from the flu every year. BUT NOT ALL AT ONCE. Hospitals aren’t so overrun with flu victims that they can’t see the “normal” sick and injured people.

I am fed up with being stuck in the house. And it’s not been two weeks yet. I get queasy when I look at our retirement accounts. I’m sad that we’ve already cancelled one trip and may end up having to cancel another one later this year. I fear the long-term effects this disruption is going to have on the economy, my kids’ education, my wife’s career, and society as a whole.

But, fuck, look at what is happening in Europe, what is beginning to happen in the US, and realize this is just the beginning, and tell me saving tens of millions of people isn’t worth whatever it costs.

Our political leaders have an impossible task. I trust the ones who are speaking to us honestly, who are focused on keeping as many people healthy as possible, and who understand that while it will be an immense challenge to come back from this, we can’t be measured in response to our immediate threats for fear of what comes after.

Covid Chronicles, 3/21

March 21, 2020 / DB

Our first week of home schooling/working is in the books. The girls all did about as well as we could have hoped. They’re bored, bummed they are not seeing their friends, and it can be a struggle to get them out of their rooms. But so far, so good, for the most part.

M was scheduled to have her first in-car driving lesson today. We were a little surprised the company didn’t cancel appointments, so we went ahead and cancelled it on our own. They sent a message saying they were taking extra care to sanitize cars between appointments. But that doesn’t guarantee her instructor would not be carrying the coronavirus or that he got everything cleaned from the previous student. I was also worried about the chance that once S begins taking the occasional shift in her office, she could encounter someone who is a carrier and transfer that to us, which M could in turn pass along to her instructor. Like most things, it was just better to keep M at home. We’ll get driver’s ed knocked out at some point.

Yesterday L and I went outside before the weather changed. We threw a football and baseball for a bit in the glorious, warm spring morning. Then, seeing the low part of our yard was flooded from the mid-week rains, she decided she wanted to build a boat and see if it floated. After a couple of attempts she fashioned a pretty sturdy craft out of foil, paper, packing tape, and twigs. She christened it the SS Corona and we spent 20 minutes experimenting with the current and winds to see how well it did.

While we were outside our neighbor came out to say hello. He is pushing 70 and had just moved his 92-year-old mother home to get her away from her assisted living center. With that in mind, we chatted across the narrow side street that separates our homes, never getting within six feet of each other.

Our homes face a main street that is normally very busy. As we spoke a car drove down the main street and just laid on its horn the entire time it passed. We didn’t see anyone in front of them, pulling into their path, etc. Neither of us recognized the car. We looked at each other and shrugged. We weren’t sure if they were just being jerks or if they were honking at us because we were conversing across 8 feet of asphalt.

I made a grocery run Thursday morning. I got most of what I needed, although it took stops at two stores. I was unable to get any ground beef or fresh chicken breasts. Fortunately I had some beef in the freezer and grabbed one of the last packages of frozen chicken. I guess it’s just a matter of when you hit the store in relation to their re-stock times. My first trip down the bread aisle found the racks totally empty. Ten minutes later restocking was in progress and I was able to grab a loaf. I’m debating whether to give Costco a try next week. I’ve heard they are limiting how many customers can be in the building at once and want to go on a dry day so I’m not in line in the rain if I can’t get inside right away.

Two more local pieces of news. Thursday afternoon they announced that all Indiana schools would remain closed through at least May 1. In his announcement the governor admitted it would take a minor miracle for schools to open again this academic year. I think we all know that but I approve of the incremental closings. Better to leave some glimmer of hope. Hey, who would have thought kids would be begging to go back to school?!

Earlier today CYO officially cancelled all spring sports. That bummed C and L out, as they held out hope that kickball and track would still happen, even if under compressed time tables. That also means I am officially done as kickball coordinator. I have promised my successor that I will guide her through the fall season since she did not get a chance to shadow me through the spring season.

Finally, I have chilled on the news a little bit, and feel better for it. I’ve taken more to checking the Washington Post and Guardian’s daily live blogs than read through every story. I’ve found this gives me a good overview of what is happening, direct links to the stories that require closer reading, and are easier to disengage from once I’m caught up. I recommend them both.

Friday Reading Assignment

March 20, 2020 / DB

There is so much information about Covid–19 out there right now it is easy to get overwhelmed. Especially when the news is bad, as was the case earlier this week with the release of a British study that suggested the strategies the national governments of both the UK and US were taking would simply push the flood of sick people out until late this year or early next year.

The situation is fluid, though, as everyone seems to be saying.

I just finished reading the article linked to below. I don’t know whether the science and assumptions behind it are accurate or wildly off-base. I do know while most of it is extremely sobering, it ends on a very hopeful note. Social distancing combined with better testing and stronger efforts to isolate infected citizens can mean this period of lockdown we are currently in can end relatively soon and that it can dramatically reduce both the direct effects of Covid and the collateral damage. Going from tens of millions infected to tens of thousands would be a massive change.

As more states and local governments issue Shelter in Place orders, this piece suggests that the short-term pain, frustration, and isolation caused by these orders will absolutely be worth it. Hopefully soon.

Coronavirus: The Hammer and the Dance

Covid Chronicles, 3/18

March 18, 2020 / DB

I’m not sure if these posts are useful or interesting. But I feel like I need both an outlet and a way to document this bleak moment in history. I’ve probably read too many post-apocalyptic novels where some artifact of an earlier age is discovered and helps explain how the new world came to be and am angling to leave my own artifact. If you’re reading this from a Covid-free future, hello! Apologies for we residents of the 21st century for fucking up the planet.

My normal days – you know, a week ago – normally involved a lot of sitting around. Sure, I ran errands daily, hit the gym, and tries to do other things to keep active, but I also had stretches each day when I was stuck in a chair or on a couch, dicking around on the internet, reading, or maybe cranking out some content for this site.

So this week has not been a huge change for me. The only difference is the girls are here with me and I’m limited in where I can go if I do want to leave the house.

In recent years I’ve tuned out the news quite a bit. I believe the American media has become toxic and more interested in generating views/ratings/clicks than advancing legitimate discussion on any issue, political or otherwise. Some are worse than others, but I am deeply disappointed by the state of most of our media.

Over the past week I’ve reverted to teenage me and become totally news-obsessed. I’m constantly flipping through a collection of news sources, have added some Covid-related follows on Twitter, and so on. It started with the dopamine rush of how powerful and vital TV was from last Wednesday night when the NBA fell apart through Friday afternoon when the NCAA cancelled the tournament.

I needed to find a way to keep that buzz going. Sitting on my ass, running down the battery on my iPad while jumping from the Washington Post to the Guardian to Talking Points Memo to Vox to Andy Slavitt’s Twitter storms is the best way to get it.

This elevated sense of excitement, uncertainty, and fear was exhilarating for awhile. But after a week, it’s starting to wear me down. Yet, with things happening so quickly it is difficult to disconnect and give myself time to breath knowing taking even an hour off will require catching up on at least three things that on a normal day would be massive news.

I’m going to begin making a concerted effort to put the iPad down and do other things. The world will go on, hopefully, without me keeping my head submerged in the flood of news.

I think I’m generally a realist who remains steady in tense moments. I don’t freak out in the face of tornado warnings, power outages, etc. That has served me well over the past week. I know there is no interruption in our food supply. I know the hoarding of toilet paper is silly.

But, man, you make a trip to Target and see empty shelves where the toilet paper should be and you start to wonder what you should be grabbing. A mental switch flips and you realize how the psychology of hoarding works. Even as I tell myself there is no need to start grabbing, say, bandages and shampoo, there is this tickle deep inside of me that wants to begin filling a shopping cart with anything we could possibly use.

Covid Chronicles, 3/17

March 17, 2020 / DB

The strangeness continues.

My last trip to the gym was last Wednesday. Thursday and Friday I was too busy being glued to the TV to run across the street to get a workout in. By Saturday I thought it best to avoid the gym. You can see my gym’s parking lot from our house, and over the past five days I’ve watched the crowds there get smaller each day. I have a friend who is a workout fiend and I still saw her car over there yesterday.

Doesn’t matter anymore, as all gyms have closed down as of this morning. We have a bench, some weights, and a treadmill in the basement, so I can still do some modified workouts. I can’t run much anymore, though, so I fear not having access to the elliptical machines will mean some of the 10 pounds I’ve lost since Christmas will return.

I do most of my podcast listening at the gym, so I’ve fallen behind. It’s been very odd to listen to podcasts that were recorded last Monday and Tuesday, when the market was beginning to crater and everything else was still hypothetical. They are a reminder of how quickly events spiraled and how long a week can feel.

I’ve been listening to the new bulletins on the BBC World Service a lot. I enjoy their more neutral, relaxed approach to the news. The BBC is also good for getting a broader perspective, as they often place developments in Europe ahead of the latest US news.

Last night I was listening to a bulletin and L walked through the room, heard voices coming out of my iPad but saw a black screen, and gave me a strange look. When the news summary ended she asked, “How does that work?” I explained that it was a radio broadcast that I was streaming. “Oh, I thought the news was just on TV.”

My mind was blown.

As I shared yesterday, C had an ortho appointment. We drove up to the office, walked in, she went to the computer to check in and the ladies at the desk asked if they could help us. Which they never do. “Uh oh,” I thought.

I told them C had an appointment and they apologized and said they had cancelled all visits, I should have received a call. I didn’t remember my phone ringing but as we re-booked I checked. Nope, no call, no voice mails.

As we left we tried to pull up the Panera menu to place a carry-out order, but the site refused to load. In fact no website was working and my email wasn’t loading. I powered my phone off, let it sit for a moment, and powered back on. Once it came online up popped a voice mail the ortho office left an hour earlier. Crap.

It looks like all the Colorado resorts shut down for the season today, which should make it easier to get refunds for everything we reserved. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not all that important. But it is one less thing to stress about.

I think the girls are already bored. L knocked out almost all of her assignments for the week today. M is whining about not being able to see her friends. It has been hard not to share every new development with them. We try to be honest and help them to understand what is happening. But I am feeling bad when each day brings some new disappointment to share. Today I’m struggling with how to share the possibility that this may go on much longer than people are currently expecting. Wiping out spring break was disappointing enough. We have a very big trip scheduled for late July, and based on some charts I’m seeing, I’m starting to believe it is in real jeopardy. I don’t even want to mention that to the girls yet, but at some point we may have to share that possibility.