– in which Dorn visits the outside world.
oday is Monday, which means it’s time to go into the big city of Prince Frederick and pick up our curbside delivery of groceries. I’ve got all my Personal Protective Equipment, and a plan in place to avoid all interchange of molecules with store staff, or, well, anyone. The groceries will go in the back of the pickup, loaded by a store loader, while I supervise by phone from the cab with the windows rolled up and the ventilation turned off.
On the drive up, I wondered what I would see in town? Martial law? Smoking ruins? Flying cars and jetpacks? I felt a little like I was channeling Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day: if the streets were bare except for the occasional masked and gloved figure furtively rushing on some unavoidable errand, then six more long weeks of viral winter await. If, on the other hand, the streets were full of clusters of people going about their business without a care in the world, then (I could deduce) we are not practicing our physical distancing or taking other precautions to “flatten the curve”, and the covid tsunami will come fast and hard, and then be over (for the survivors) more quickly. Neither scenario seemed very attractive, but I was hoping for the first one.
But things looked almost the same as they always look in Prince Frederick. The restaurants and stores that were closed were dark, true, with only one or two cars in the lot, but the open stores—the Walmarts, the Safeways—seemed as busy as they ever are on a Monday mid-morning.
I didn’t see a single person with a mask or gloves on going into or out of the stores, although I also didn’t see any groups of more than two people standing within six feet of each other. If I weren’t watching for it, I don’t think I’d have noticed any difference from a normal Monday.
The normalcy of it all reminded me of one of those shows where the hero spends the whole show in the bomb shelter expecting there to be nothing left of the world outside, then at the end he goes out, and everything is all fine. Surely that was the plot of some Twilight Zone episode!
Once in the Safeway parking lot, surrounded by strolling shoppers in ones and twos, I was surprised to feel suddenly pulled by a strong desire to behave as if this were just an ordinary plague-free Monday. Maybe just pop in the store and pick up the few things I didn’t remember to put into the order, or help the young clerk load my bags into the truck. I didn’t actually think this was a good idea, and didn’t actually do it, but the feeling was still there, strong. That herd instinct’ll sure creep up on you, won’t it.
So I stayed in the car, and the young lady came out an put several bags of groceries in the back, we waved through the window-glass, and I was off. The second I was out of sight of all those shoppers acting like we weren’t in a covid-lockdown, the herd instinct evaporated and I was my old skeert self again.
I was curious to see which groceries I had actually received, and which they were out of, or put limitations on. It felt kind of like having one of those scratch-off cards that promises every one’s a winner, but you don’t know if you’ll just be a normal winner of a 25¢ off coupon, or a big winner of everything your heart desired.
At home, after the required sterilization procedures of myself and my produce, I took stock. I made out pretty good—I got almost all the fresh fruit and veggies on our list. Only a few important items were missing, which we weren’t yet out of. All in all, the hunting expedition seemed a success.
Of course, we won’t really know for five to ten days, when it becomes clear whether I dodged all the virus germs during my time out.
Our pup is celebrating a birthday! Archie turned 14 human years old yesterday, which, depending on how you calculate it, makes him the equivalent of somewhere between 73 and 98 dog-years old. I tried out different dog-year formulas on Archie (here), and decided I liked best the one that makes him 73. That seems about right for his current energy level and attitude about life—he’s starting to get cranky and unwilling to listen to helpful suggestions about what he should do and not do (kind of like me, who is also in that age ballpark). Happy birthday Archie!
HOARD-O-METER:
Velveeta
Toilet paper
Coffee
Broccoli
Green peppers
Milk
Chocolate
Twizzlers
Thanks,
Dorn
3/30/2020