This is the next in the “Outside My Window” series about daily life during the pandemic.
It’s Over
It took less than a month. In the first week of May, I officiated a track meet in Columbus. Everyone, kids, coaches, parents, wore masks. “Social Distancing” was still a “thing”, and we all took pains to avoid crowds. We were still a world restricted by the pandemic. I officiated my last meet in Chillicothe three weeks later. Masks were few to be seen – none of the officials wore one. A few kids, a few elderly spectators, but other than those it was a “mask free” environment. There were crowds in the stands, a record showing for Southeastern High School.
The world turned quickly. The death and infection rates here in Ohio plummeted. Over 50% of adults are vaccinated, with a part of the rest already infected and over the disease. So the spread slowed. It doesn’t really mean “it’s over”. Over 250 died from COVID in Ohio in May. The Butcher’s Bill from the pandemic stands at 20,000 deaths in Ohio. But only 503 are being treated in hospitals now, down from the many thousands that nearly overwhelmed some facilities.
COVID statistics are reported in the weekend newspapers, alongside the baseball scores and the horse racing results. But they’ve lost their impact: to folks here in Ohio, it’s over.
Normal Life
My family went to a “fancy” restaurant last week to celebrate a birthday. It was the first time since – I’m not sure, maybe Christmas of 2019 – that we went to an “upscale” place. Life was normal: crowds at the bar, no Friday reservations available until after 8, the servers excited to be busy. It was as if COVID hadn’t even happened. We had a great time, with seafood and steaks and wine.
I wrote my first essay on the pandemic on March 16, 2020 (Crisis in a Small Town). It was about how our small town of Pataskala was reacting to the pandemic, even though the actual disease hadn’t touched us yet. Sure there were fights over toilet paper at the local grocery, but there were also lots of stories about a town pulling together in crisis. The local restaurants quickly switched to full carry-out modes, and one of the bars (Ziggy’s) even found a way to carry-out their mixed drinks.
Variants
So here we are, more than a year later. And for the moment, our crisis is over. We still hear of the dreaded “variants” that somehow might escape all of the defenses. And we are still reading about the tragedy of COVID – now ravaging India and other parts of the world. Ohio has almost half-a-million COVID vaccinations ready to expire. We can’t send them to India, but we could put them in Ohioans arms to protect them and keep the rest of us safe. But those vaccines will likely go to waste. Even a million-dollar lottery isn’t enough to get some to roll up their sleeves.
So the next step in COVID is to be charitable. All of the billions of dollars spent to develop and produce enough vaccines for the United States, need to be re-directed to saving the rest of the world. And it’s not just charity, it’s self-interest. The fewer people with COVID, the less chance of a mutation in the virus that would circumvent the vaccinations. Stop the spread, stop the variants: protect us all.
I keep thinking back to the flu epidemic of 1918, the “Spanish Flu” (it just as likely originated in Kansas). They thought it was over after the first wave, but the second mutated strain that came back with the Armies from World War I was even more deadly. We know a whole lot more about viruses today. The solutions are really common sense. But common sense doesn’t seem to be much of a driving force in today’s world. We’ll see if there’s another essay in 2022 about life and COVID.
Ohio
Meanwhile it’s back to normal here in Ohio. We are going to a long awaited family reunion next weekend in Cleveland. There’s another Pole Vault Camp (yes, there is such a thing) to coach this week, and maybe Jenn and I will take in a ballgame soon. There’s nothing like a minor league game on “dime a dog night”, sitting in the bleacher seats in the hot sun, beer and dog in hand, rooting for the Clippers. I hear they play the Toledo Mud Hens this week. That’s about as normal as life can get.
The Outside My Window Series
- Crisis in a Small Town – (3/16/20)
- St Patrick’s Day – (3/17/20)
- Plagues and Floods – (3/21/20)
- Stories from Lockdown – (4/1/20)
- Out My Front Window – Part One (4/21/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Two (4/23/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Three (4/26/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Four (5/13/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Five (6/3/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Six (7/3/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Seven (7/31/20)
- Outside My Window – Inshallah (8/13/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Eight (9/15/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Nine (9/25/20)
- Outside My Window – Part Ten (10/9/20)
- Outside My Window – Part 11 (11/29/20)
- Outside My Window – Post-Truth World (12/16/20)
- Waiting for the Shot (3/11/21)
- Outside My Window – Part 15 (5/26/21)
- Outside My Window – Part 16 (6/13/21)
