The rock and hard place of coronavirus
Those of you old enough may remember how the American war in Vietnam was summed up in the statement, “We had to destroy the town in order to save it.”
In the case of coronavirus, the effort to limit its impact may be summarized this way: “We must isolate the individual in order to spare him.”
This “social distancing,” which will probably accelerate in the days ahead, as outbreaks mushroom across the country, is oddly in conflict with the simultaneous need for collective action – from all and by all.
Can Americans reconcile these two seemingly contradictory impulses? Can the nation do both at the same time? Can it marry the private to the communal?
Maybe, maybe not.
It’s fairly clear we can manage the public distancing part. We’ve been at that a good long time now.
Here’s a history lesson. What killed vaudeville, the show business circuit that smashed up comics, jugglers, singers, and hoofers? The answer, commercial radio.
Television only accelerated the trend toward home alone-ness. The image of families eating dinner off trays while staring at the small screens in their living rooms goes back to the earliest days of TV in the 1950s.
If radio and television allowed individuals to entertain themselves, the internet practically demands it.
Ladies and gentlemen, here’s … YouTube.
The internet has been an isolating experience. Think about it.
Instead of trudging to libraries, we now borrow books online or look up information on the web. From home.
Instead of community newspapers, we scan the news feeds on our hand-held, pocket-carried devices and cell phones, mitigating the need to ever again make the run from the house to the corner newstand.
Instead of classrooms, we have online learning. An increasing number of students attend college by way of their bedrooms.
Finally, instead of leaving home for political rallies, we consult Facebook and Twitter or turn to television — from the comfort of our favorite chairs. In this day and age, politics is as much private as it is public.
In other words, we Americans are more than able to shelter at home. (Though an extended amount of time — it’s 50-plus days and counting in Wuhan, China — would wear thin, the columnist surmises, even the most contented homebodies.)
This past week has been unprecedented. You know something is seriously wrong when Disneyland is shuttered. And yet, we are being confronted by the same old stale, stupid political blather.
Our politics — the “communal” part of the equation – in the age of coronavirus is awful.
It begins at the top with President Trump.
Who but the president would conceive the virus as a “foreign” threat hatched in China, Europe, or at the border with Mexico?
“The Democratic policy of open borders is a threat to the health and well-being of all Americans,” the president said not long ago. ” “Now you see it with the coronavirus, you see it.”
President Trump called Gov. Jay Inslee of Washington “a snake,” in regard to the pandemic. Still on the subject, he blamed Federal Reserve chief Jerome H. Powell for plunging stock prices.
As for coronavirus test kits, which are in short supply, the president said they are “perfect.” And in a truly mind-bending display of where his mind is at, he likened the “perfect” kits to his “perfect” call to the Ukrainian president a while back.
While the president and his cohorts Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh have been crying coronavirus fraud and fake news, whole bunches of people across the country — the consumers of their drivel – have taken what they’ve said to heart
It’s an alarming fact that there is a marked difference in perspective between Democrats and Republicans when it comes to the virus.
According to SurveyMonkey polling, compared to 31 percent of Democrats, 62 percent of Republicans think news coverage of the threat posed by the virus is “generally exaggerated.”
I may have thought so too, but then the start of the baseball season was postponed. Gee, I hope I don’t have to retreat into my home for a long stretch of time. No March Madness, no baseball, no golf.
What is a homebody to do?
Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown. He can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com.