Here we go again

 

Set-up for a cancelled party,
I think it makes a nice still-life.

When you begin the day by getting the tea bag string so tangled with the spoon, you have to use scissors, you get a hint it might not be your best day! Yesterday I cancelled the small open house I’d been planning for New Year’s Day—come and go for black-eyed peas, ham, and good luck. Only at most twenty people and, I prayed, not all at once because twenty people would crowd the cottage beyond conviviality. The guests were my closest friends, people I knew would be vaccinated, masked, careful. Even so, one good friend wrote that they would come only if they could stay outside, and a neighbor couple sent heartfelt regrets. Still another friend said she was relieved and they had planned to stay on the patio. A grandmother planning a trip to see grandchildren said she was refusing all social invitations as she kept herself virus-free for the visit. As a final blow, the wonderful woman who was going to “spiffy up” the cottage that morning reported she has tested positive.

This was particularly poignant for me. For fifty years or more, I gave an annual tree trimming party with sixty or more guests. I began cooking and freezing things in November. The week of the party I laid dishes out on the table with little notes in them of what went in which dish. (When he saw that, Christian said to Jordan, “You and your mother have a screw loose.”) It was a big deal party—cheese ball, caviar spread, smoked salmon, an annual tradition that I looked forward to and so did my guests. I haven’t done it in at least six years—hard to cook like that when you need a walker, and then in the cottage there was no room.

So this was to be a mini-recreation of tree trimming, and I was excited about it. I’m a bit surprised that instead of sadness, I feel relief. I wouldn’t want anyone to get sick because they came to my cottage. I will say planning a party that doesn’t come off is a great way to straighten your living quarters—Jordan and I put away a lot of the clutter in the cottage, most of it in places where it will not appear again at least for a while. And I sure have stocked up on liquor, including that really good eggnog with the nog in it.

I did offer curbside pickup on the patio for black-eyed peas in the late afternoon on New Year’s Day. I expect it will be a tad too cool for much patio sitting.

I am sad, relieved—and a bit angry. For myself, I am going into quarantine again, just when I’d been working to convince myself I didn’t want to be a recluse. Having stayed home for almost a year, it was hard to get into the routine of going out again. But I was enjoying restaurant dinners and the like—and now, boom! Yesterday alone, there were a thousand new cases in Tarrant County, and the total for the last week is something like 5,500. If people had listened to the science and not the politics and followed the advice, vaccinated, worn masks, kept social distancing, the omicron would not have had so many hosts.

I honestly don’t understand anti-vaxxers and, yes, I am angry at them. They are so self-absorbed with their indignation that they fail to see their folly could not only kill them, it affects the rest of society. We’re all in this damn boat together. It was philosopher John Stuart Mill who believed that individuals should have absolute freedom except when their actions could harm another or the community in general!

This morning I put a pot of peas on to cook (you don’t know how badly I wanted to fill out the alliteration with pickle instead of cook!). Tonight I’ll still be in my jammies, and I’ll cook my favorite comfort food—salmon croquettes. TV? Probably not. Rather a good book, I don’t know if I will last until midnight or not, but I will treat myself to a nightcap of eggnog. I’ll be perfectly happy, but I hope that my New Year’s Eve doesn’t set a pattern for the year.

A Scottish blessing, traditional on Hogmanay (the last day of the old year): “A good New Year to one and all, and many may you see.” And there’s an Irish custom you should know. I’m told it’s traditional to open the door to be sure the old year leaves! An especially good practice this year.

Is this our future?

 

I had a guest for happy hour tonight, a longtime friend of my oldest son. I’ve known him since they were in high school together and, later, tended bar at several restaurants. Back then, I prayed they would find themselves something out of food service, and eventually both did. I’m fond of this man, and when I found out he was in town—actually because left a gift of wine on my porch—I said he couldn’t be in Fort Worth without coming to see me. We settled on five o’clock tonight.

But then he texted, with great honesty, “I am unvaccinated.” I replied we would visit on the patio, socially distanced and masked. He asked if he could stand on the sidewalk and not wear a mask, but I said no. He’d have to stand so far away that I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I am beyond grateful that he cared enough to put on a mask to see me (he apparently never wears one). When he arrived, he reached out and said, “Can I hug you?” and I said, “No. No hugs.” So we sat and visited for almost two hours.

I had jokingly warned him that he would get my mask lecture, and at first, he said he’d submit. But then in a late message, he said, “I’m not looking forward to that lecture.” We visited for maybe twenty minutes until the subject came up, and I asked why he wasn’t vaccinated. He laughed and said, “Boy, you wait twenty minutes, and then boom! You’re right on it.”

Essentially his opinion is that it’s a virus and it’s going to be around forever, and it would do no good for him to vaccinate or mask. The virus he said will continue to mutate and we’ll never beat it. “Now they’re talking about a third shot. And then it will be the fourth. When will it end?”  He repeated what I consider the now a shop-worn line, “We all have to make a decision that’s best for us.” My plea that we vaccinate and mask for others, fell on deaf ears. So did my reminder that the virus mutates in victims, so the more unvaccinated people who get sick, the more opportunities for mutation.

He’s not a Trumper, although he is by no means the liberal that I am. But the vaccination issue for him wasn’t even political. It was just kind of a “it is what it is.” He’s angry about covid because his two sons lost a year and a half of schooling, and he believes that everything that comes along, from evictions to staffing shortage to what-have-you, gets blamed on covid, as though it’s an easy peg to hang all your troubles on. And he thinks the government is too much in our live--in Texas I would agree with him.

I admit I wimped out. I was prepared to go into full campaign mode, convince him, so that by the time he left he’d be headed for the nearest clinic to get vaccinated. It didn’t happen. No way. We had pleasant discussions about a lot of things, some reminiscences, nice talk. We agree about abortion (though he is a good Catholic), and we agree (I think) about Governor Abbott, Daniel Patrick, transgender students, and a lot of other hot-button issues. When we disagreed, it was amicable. The one topic I didn’t bring up was the border wall. He was born in Columbia and in his home, they still speak Spanish, so the Border Patrol was in many ways a logical career choice for him. I didn’t ask about it, didn’t ask what he thinks of the wall, though I wanted to.

I decided friendship and amicable relationships were more important, and in this instance, it was a good decision. But I see it as an omen for the future as we head into a second surge of covid. Are we going to choose our friends—and moderate our discussions—based on what others believe, especially when it goes counter to science or, in some cases, what I consider morality? It’s a hard call. If he had defended Abbott, would I have jumped into the fray? I have distanced myself from the very few friends who were/are ardent trump supporters. But is this dilemma, like his prediction for the virus, always going to be with us? I want peace and friendships, but on the other hand, I feel so desperate to have people follow the science and protect themselves to protect the rest of us. It’s a dilemma.

Your thoughts?