Mask On, Mask Off

One of the last vestiges of the pandemic known as Covid has been lifted at long last, at least here in the Pacific Northwest. As of April 3rd, face masks are no longer required in Washington or Oregon healthcare facilities such as doctor's offices, clinics, hospitals, et al., unless of course you've got the Rona or some other nasty ass virus that could spew out of your mouth or nose like a disease loaded squirt gun. Since I am immersed in the healthcare industry (What? You thought I did this for a living?) this is a pretty big baby step in the direction of normalcy once again. I suppose we've gotten to the point of flattening that elusive curve and now for the most part we can see each other's faces again. For aesthetic reasons, some people should re-consider, but that's beside the point. I have been a frontline worker for quite some time even before Covid turned 19, masking and gloving up from Day One in the belief that I was protected from its spread into my fragile lil' system. The removal of said face protection is a relief but still nothing more than symbolic since I gave up wearing one in public long ago. On the job, I'm still erring on the side of caution, having cut back my maskings to about 50%, still donning them in urgent cares and pediatric clinics which are basically giant petri dishes with waiting rooms. In full disclosure, I am of a certain age and have a loved one who is also potentially at risk for whatever I bring home from the trenches, reason enough for me not to expose myself or anyone else for that matter to any airborne disease without personal protection equipment on my person. Of course them thar face coverin's, along with the vaxx, have been mandatory for my job. 

The mask itself has been the cause of many a heated debate since Day One and continues to be so. The mandate set forth requiring its usage in public places didn't sit right with a large chunk of said public. Wearing them restricted the rights of those who fear losing their rights the most as though they have the most to lose. After the lockdowns and vaccine requirements, small wonder why it's been such a hot button issue. In the early days of the plague, nobody knew anything, fumbling around in the dark to stop the spread of the bloody thing completely clueless as how to handle it. Most of the suggestions and/or restrictions were educated guesses for the uneducated masses. Washing hands seemed to be a fine idea for the great unwashed. Social distancing? Well, okay. I have personal space issues anyway, so it worked for me. (Back off, bozo!) Leaving your groceries outside for three days to kill the virus? Umm, sure. Anything leftover after the critters get into 'em is all yours...especially the perishables. 

Whatever they came up with was designed to make us safer or to give the perception of safety anyway. These government mandates were for the good of the public, not to exercise control just to see if they could. Well, maybe that last part has some truth to it after all. Look how many complied as opposed to those who resisted. The odds are in their favor unless this theory becomes fact. No wonder the nay-sayers went further out on the ledge of sanity, decrying the use of "face-diapers" as a rallying cry for the freedom fightin' few, the proud, the intolerant. 

On the other side, masks were felt to be necessary, no matter how irritating, especially in hot weather. Many tried to make the most of it by manning their sewing machines to create cloth masks for family, friends and foes alike, many creatively conceived , but eventually proven to be ineffectual. Of course, that information wasn't forthcoming at the time, so the gesture was deemed noble as opposed to ignorant. That this portion of the public was willing to help at all speaks volumes as opposed to the intolerant labelling them as "sheeple". Many of these "sheeple" were out risking their lives while you guys were sequestered at home in your Cheeto-stained Snuggies uploading endless YouTube videos about how Bill Gates flattened the Earth.

One of the very worst aspects of the mask mandate was its enforcement, making it the responsibility of businesses and operations that were struggling to remain open to the public in the midst of all this chaos. Those that didn't act in accordance to said directives were subject to fines and perhaps even closure in may cases. This forced us to fight among ourselves, a real novel way to take the heat off the Powers that Be. Essential workers: Heroes one minute, adversaries the next. Shameful.

The ramifications from all of this will be felt for the rest of our lives. There will be permanent scarring and wounds that may never heal, on physical mental, spiritual and practical levels. How are going to handle ourselves now that we're finally headed out the other side? And what's going to happen next time? In this day and age, nothing is more certain in this life than a sequel.

For now, the masks are off. So too are the gloves. Let the games begin...again.

The Plague's The Thing

Welcome to the first edition of The Uncertain Times

All the news that'll give you fits

Greetings from the front lines!

I'm one of those folks who is not working from home (or not not working from home as the case    may be). For me, as well as some of many of us out here,it's been business as usual, albeit with some changes to our regular routines.

You see, I work in the healthcare industry. While not directly dealing with patients, I am considered by my organization
as a caregiver. It's actually a catch-all word to give us some sort of dignity or purpose when, if truth be told, we are only employees. This applies to the maintenance staff, food services, etc etc etc. The thing is we're all out here helping
to get the job done collectively. Sure, the nurses, the doctors, et al., are getting much deserved accolades since they are in the thick of battle trying to fight this invisible enemy and care for its many victims. But you know what? We all deserve heaping helpings of praise along with everyone that has been working through this..

The thing is, we "caregivers" don't know we're facing either and it was scary as all get-out in the early days. I myself transport Covid-19 test samples from clinics on a daily basis taking the utmost care that is provided to me while utilizing PPE and sanitizing myself several times a day. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it, along with the lab technicians, medical assistants and anyone else in this wide open field of screams. And, like them, I don't really have a choice.

The fear and anxiety during the first wave has subsided though it hasn't made this pandemic any less serious. Early on, I had an honest to crap melt-down, damn near resulting in a panic attack when dealt with my first specimen. The information given us at the time was limited at best, so don't think that wasn't a reason to freak the frick out. If that wasn't enough, I am constantly reminded of what germy souvenirs I could bring home, endangering the one person I love most in this crazy goddamn world. As more has been learned along the way and the misinformation has been dialed down (despite one Fathead in Chief's diatribe about disinfectant and ultra-violet butt lights), the tension has lowered while the danger unfortunately remains as the hits keep right on a'comin'.

What I've observed while being out here in the world when the rest of you weren't is that it has all seemed so normal, especially with Spring in full bloom. At the same time, the populace is being infected and dying by an invisible enemy, putting everyone all on high alert. Since then, it's been slow going during these last few weeks. A lack of human presence on the streets has such an eerie calm. Add a heaping helping of the fear factor and you've got the new normal. If I had to give it a name, I'd call it Paranoid Boredom.

One of my big concerns these days is that this constant high alert has begun to dull the senses to the point of causing a lackadaisical response. Mistakes will be made if those of us out here are too complacent about it all. My temperature is taken a couple of times a day when I enter a hospital or clinic, but I've noticed that those manning these stations don't bother to look up from their phones when someone enters their area. Surprise, surprise. Mostly, the utmost care is being taken in businesses I still have to visit and I for one am grateful for their diligence.

Please go the edge of Flat Earth and jump the fuck off

The quarantine is helping and hurting at the same time. The Covid  is being held at bay as a result but human-and inhuman-nature is making a bunch of loonies in the process, most of which didn't have far to go to begin with. Sure was east to topple over that basket of deplorables and there they are, semi-autos and Confederate flags in hand, yelling "Our Bodies, Ourselves". (Say what?) Yeah, the economy is in the dumper and people do indeed have to get back to the high cost of living again. I'm employed while so many are not. I'm not speaking from a lofty, elitist position, just another working stiff. I'm still making the same shit wages I was before all this, trying to make ends meet. This thing is going to get dragged out even further with more deaths on the way if stupidity rules the waves. Slow your roll, people. Heed the words of The Outlaw Josey Wales : "Dyin' ain't much of a livin' boy."

In the meantime, I'll be out there again tomorrow, dealing with the Corona-Covid contagion, dodging the sickies and fighting the good fight for you, for me and for a paycheck.

Why?
Because I have to.
It's my job.

Corona My House

Ground zero?

In the words of the Wicked Witch of the West,
"Oh, what a world....what a world..."

Yeah, it's gone nuts out there alright. I should say it's already gone nuts and now it's just flat out insane. The pandemic they've been warning us about forever and a day is now upon us and what do we do? Hoard toilet paper. Yeah, we're fine. Lordy lordy, what is we gonna do?

I have two perspectives, not because I'm bi-polar or bi-coastal for that matter. I'm more BOGO as in Bi One Get One. I'm also spinning off the rails so bear with me as I attempt to put two thoughts together and come up with a blog.

On one hand, I have what is known as my day job, the one that pays most of the bills and that, my dear friends, is in the healthcare field. I am, as the main character in my book,
RED ASPHALT, a laboratory courier. That means I pick up and deliver, among other things, blood, urine and other bodily fluids for my employer's clinical lab. Naturally, we have been testing for Covid-19 at the hospitals and clinics in our network. Hooray. I'm on the front lines. Of course, we've been bombarded by tons of information regarding this outbreak and guess what? We still don't know what the hell we're doing, making it up as we go along. On Friday, I couldn't get that goddamn HBO mini-series CHERNOBYL out of my head. I began to feel like one of the first responders to that clusterfuck. "Boris, go down to the core and clean up. Take this mop. Hold your breath. You will be fine." The stress has just begun and my own melt-down is imminent.

My other job, actually my vocation, is an independent writer, a fashionable term for someone w/o representation. Among my works are pieces for the theater, though that's a catch-all phrase as well. I write melodramas and interactive murder mysteries which have been fairly lucrative for yours truly in the past decade. This year alone, the first six months in fact, I had four productions scheduled, one having wrapped up just last month in Texas. However, everything is on hold as of this moment in time that changes by the hour. Actors Studio Inc. has a scheduled benefit performance of MURDER: THE FINAL FRONTIER on March 21, the first in my adopted state of Oregon which was to be followed up by another the following Saturday. As of today, show #2 is cancelled. Another of the same show in the Los Angeles area is on hold while a production of SONG OF THE CANYON KID in Texas this May is up in the air, shall we say? Meanwhile, acting as another playwright's agent, I was able wrangle a production of Michael K. Young's CASE OF THE MYSTERIOUS CRAVAT, a major coup, I felt. However, at this writing, a show set for two weeks hence is suddenly a big question mark. When it suddenly dawns on you that the survival of this particular art form is predicated on putting butts in seats, it's time to rethink your options. And in terms of survival itself, it's a lose-lose proposition. Social distancing. That's not entertainment.

(UPDATE: Actors Theater Inc. cancelled their March 21 show on 3/16. The next day, the Rogue Theater pulled the plug on THE CASE OF THE MYSTERIOUS CRAVAT and, alas and alack, SONG OF THE CANYON KID is a no-go in Texas this year)

My problems, especially of the latter, are comparatively minor and I acknowledge that. People are sick and dying, businesses and facilities are closing left and right and the world is on lockdown. On the other hand, which I continually wash for twenty seconds at a time, the former, meaning that dreaded day job, is disconcerting because it also boils down to the same thing, spouted by that wise sage Donald Rumsfeld, former Secretary of Defense of the good ol' US of A:

"There are known knowns; there are things that we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know."

What a soothsayer. That was 18 years ago. Match that up with anything that's been spouted in the last couple of weeks and you've got yourself The New Reality.

Tomorrow I head back into the void. It's another day and the sun will come out. Everything else is anybody's guess. Hopefully, the answer won't be blowing in the wind. I can only hold my breath for so long.

Take care, people. We'll meet again. Don't know where. Don't know when.