Deeds & Words

The second quarter of 2020 was stressful for me. There was a highly contagious, life-threatening virus making the rounds, and absolutely zero national response. We had a president who openly lied about the seriousness, often making things up on the spur of the moment. At least local and state agencies were trying to do right. There was a flood, a torrent of information. A lot of it was wrong, partially wrong, or so badly garbled in translation as to be useless.

I suffered from performance anxiety. I’m not being frivolous or sarcastic; in March and April I felt like any place I went had a new set of social mores and protocols, and I was trying to learn them while I also completed whatever task I was there for. I would turn around and leave the (narrow) aisles of my local grocery store if there were two people in there, because there was no way to get by them and leave social distance. I’d walk all way down a neighboring aisle to come in the other side. And I wasn’t the only one.

At the checkstand; unload the basket but don’t set the basket on the conveyer. Sanitize hands and card. Wipe the stylus of the card reader with a wipe ( which I had to pull out of the zip-sealed sandwich bag in my purse)–or wait, is it use the stylus and then wipe it for the next person? And find time in this process to at least say “Hello” to checkers I’ve seen nearly every day for years, ask how they’re doing. (A few times the answer was, “Stressed, and you?”)

Outdoors, when I wasn’t masked (part of this time there was no mask mandate or even really a mask recommendation), I would step into the gutter or even out into the traffic lanes to give people space. Public health officials recommended six feet of distance; remembering a Mythbuster episode about how far droplets from a sneeze could travel, I tried to allow more.

Hand sanitizer. And wipes. (I gave up trying to wipe the ATM keyboards and screens.) Spare single use masks in my purse, car and tote bag. I’d offer a mask to someone who’d forgotten one, fearful they were anti-maskers who would go off on me. (Note: No one ever did.) And I was always anxious, worried I was doing something wrong, something out of sequence. What if someone got sick because of me?

And then I settled in. Don’t go anywhere unless you have to–check. Six feet of distance–check. Wash hands several times a day–check. Hand sanitizer–check. Wear a mask–check.

I learned how to use Zoom.

Several months later, we had vaccines, and a national response that was effective. I got vaccinated. So did many people around me– more than 50% of the eligible adults in Sonoma County. The surges and hotspots became (at least it seems) less severe and less frequent as more and more people achieved full vaccination. Rules began to relax. That was good, except it got confusing again.

Yesterday California relaxed almost all the safety precautions. Six feet of distance is not required. Indoor dining at full capacity is available. If you’re vaccinated, you don’t have to wear a mask indoors–but we’re on the honor system.

And I’m anxious. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining! Right now in Sonoma County, 73% of people 12+ years old have had at least one vaccine jab. New cases are down to 2 per 100,000. (Yesterday there were zero new cases identified.) Now, strangely, is a lot like March and April, 2020. I don’t have to give people space… but I want to. I don’t need to wear a mask inside, but I don’t want to wear my vaccination card around my neck on a lanyard either. How do people who don’t know me know that I’m vaccinated? After all, so many people were so vocal about not wearing a mask and not getting vaccinated– won’t they just take advantage of this opportunity and lie? Me wearing a mask indoors seems like it’s being respectful and reassuring. It also probably looks like I’m not vaccinated. And so, I dither.

I dither while I’m wearing a mask though. Something else people have begun to talk about–people who wore masks all of last year mostly didn’t get Covid. They didn’t get the flu, and they didn’t get colds. There may be something to this mask stuff.

So, as we back out the lockdown, I’m going to move slowly. I’ll keep my lovely fashion-statement masks, thanks, at least for a while longer. I’ll let people know I’m vaccinated, and I’ll take the face covering off when I know I’m in a group where we have all had our jabs. And the six-to-ten feet thing? I like that. I’ll keep doing it.

There’s an eatery in Mendocino Village whose owner took pride in preventing his employees, or customers, from wearing face coverings during the long months we’re been facing the novel coronavirus. In the early stages of the pandemic he put up a sign that said he’d apply a $5 surcharge to anyone who came into his cafe wearing a mask. In smaller print, it said he might add a charge to anyone who “bragged” about their vaccination. I’m guessing he had to reprint his sign as things progressed in our reckoning with this disease.

I walked by the place on Monday. (For the record, I’m not going to link to it or say the name. I won’t have to; you’ll see his sign in the window.) Some male country singer was blaring out of the speakers; “I’m proud to be an American.” The sound reverberated a little bit, probably off the walls of the empty cafe. There was a person behind the counter and the Open sign was still up, but there wasn’t anyone inside.

The owner has put up a couple of other signs sharing his “philosophy” on endangering people’s health. It includes the statement that people have the “right to breathe,” (that’s about masks) and people have the right to make up their own minds about things (that’s about getting vaccinated). Apparently this second one is inconsistently applied, since people who made up their own mind and wore a mask were subjected to different treatment in his place, but… oh, well.

He also thinks people “have the right to travel,” which is apparently a reference to tourists.(As in, “tourists without masks, come on in!”) Apparently he likes tourists. You know who else likes tourists, or at least feels that they need tourists? EVERY SINGLE MERCHANT in the village of Mendocino, that’s who.

I stopped to take some photos of his signs, and the phrase “virus collaborator” popped into my head. He’s a virus collaborator. He isn’t like people in Europe who willingly worked with the Nazis, or even the people who stood quietly, pretending to look the other way while Donald Trump attempted to dismantle our democracy. He might not even realize he’s collaborating–but a virus’s mission is to colonize. The novel Covid 19’s mission is to colonize as many humans as it can so it can grow and thrive.

Before you ask, the county has fined him at least once, and maybe twice. Another of his signs is one saying anyone coming into his cafe without permission is trespassing, even if they are government officials. I guess he doesn’t like Public Health very much.

I do have to wonder, if he is so proud to be an American, as his choice of music would indicate, why is he so eager to help an alien invader take us over?