One Right Thing

You need your haircut and your manicures. You need your adult beverages and your nights out.

More importantly, you need to work. You need to see your friends. You need hugs.

I get it. Me too.

So you need to open it back up.

I get that too.

Except why was it closed in the first place? To prevent the spread, right? 

The day our world closed here in California, there was only 0.006% of the U.S. population infected (about 20,000 people) and only 260 dead - a 1% death rate.

Today, not quite 2 months later, we are sitting at 0.45% of the population infected (nearly  1.5 million people) and 88,200 people dead – a 6% death rate .

You do understand that that has been while we’ve been in quarantine, right? But, hey, despite that impressive growth it’s still a tiny percentage of the total population.

I’m speculating, it's true. I’m just spit-balling that once we’re all out there milling around with each other the numbers will grow and the percentages will turn grim. Maybe that's not the case. I'll allow that. 

But could you at least wear a mask for a bit? Wash your hands more diligently? Could you go at a slow pace and test the waters first?

No? It’s all or nothing, is it?

I know. You have your convictions. Besides, you probably don’t know anyone personally with it and the folks over 65 can just stay holed up because they are already retired and have no life anyway.

I get it. I really do.

... I think. (Though I may have very strong feelings about how idle people over 65 are…)

But the thing is, it’s not just retired people. It’s not just our parents and grandparents that we need to bubble wrap and protect. 

It's my kid. 

My kid isn’t safe. My kid could die if she caught this. She almost certainly would. She’s more likely to perish from this thing than your granny, so while you are opening the world back up – before the numbers make any real sense and against the advice of doctors and scientists and experts in the field – well, she has to stay inside watching and missing out until the numbers come down enough for her to be safe.

And the part where you are so very unwilling to practice any kind of caution while at the same time so very willing to dole out tough love on me – or more especially on her – that’s the part that really gets under my skin.

“Tough luck.”

“That’s her lot in life, right? We all got something to deal with.”

“Sucks to be her.”

 “… if you want to stay indoors after this! Trust me... we are all better off without you!”

“No one needs you libtards and your masks anyway.”

Listen, I get it. You’re frustrated and stir crazy and probably getting super low on funds. It makes you angry and a bit irrational. But not everything in the world is about you and not everything is on one side or the other of the political divide. Sometimes it’s not about being loyal to a party or flaunting your perceived power. Sometimes the best way to be a citizen of the UNITED States is to unite to protect each other. Sometimes you should just do the goddamn right thing - just one right thing.

Because sometimes it turns out who you are really at war with is a kid. Just a kid. A kid that was born with something she didn’t ask for nor can control. A kid that would very much like to be an adult someday. It’d be great if you would allow her that opportunity.

So shut up and wear the fucking mask.