The first minute of my 15 in observation from my second vaccine was the exact moment I noticed that per FB I was no longer listed as married to my wife so hooboy am I hoping that the sequel to this story has a much happier character arc for me than the COVID stretch did!
The recent months have helped me reflect on something I have to rein in once in a while, and that's the envy of what those around me are enjoying what I do not or cannot. It came to a head shortly after we moved to town, and found a growing church. I had an upside-down mortgage back home, rented an absolute craphole of a place thanks to moving on two weeks' notice, and we drove beat up cars. The promotion was nice, but rebuilding Rome didn't take a day either.
Every Sunday, happy families in their best dress casual, with enthusiastic kids, pulling in beside us in a shiny new people moving road fortress. The inferiority complex was feasting at this all-you-can-eat buffet of showiness. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that I'm just not that person, nor did I want the second mortgage just to get something that would sit in a parking lot while I sat at a desk drilling through databases and procedure documents.
I sit here in Florida, still befuddled at the snail's pace of vaccine eligibility changes. I have to combat jealousy as I hear friends all around the nation boasting that they are going in for first or second doses, or read headlines that the state an hour away is essentially opening the gates for everyone. I cheer for every last one of my friends who have gotten to the front of the line, and encourage those who haven't to at least get in the line. I have no idea how long I'll be waiting.
But, that's ok. Maybe that's where the story ends. The job isn't done. The work carries on, the light at the end of the tunnel is visible. The apprehension is waning and encouragement is taking its place.
Let's just pray there's no sequel. And thirty years from now, I don't want to hear about a remake, either.
As my wife and I were walking into the hospital to get our second jab, a woman leaving was attacked by a presumably rabid (and rather large) racoon. I didn't attach much significance to the even until right now, but it must have some place in some story arc (definitely for the woman attack, I suppose).
Side notes--I'm guessing if you're going to be attacked by a racoon, there's no better place than right outside of a hospital. Security treated the episode like an active shooter incident (having people run for cover while the racoon was roaming around, but without an explanation) so people coming to get their vaccines were fleeing back to their cars and running for cover.
I'm so happy you got the vaccine! I work in a field where I was lucky to get my shots early on. The second Moderna shot put me on my ass. I had a very similar reaction to the whole experience; like you I am over the moon to have these things in my arm and each social media picture of a friend holding their CDC Card brings me a new sense of relief every time I see one. But at the same time there is this sense that nothing is or will ever be bookended.
I think a lot about the stories of people who went through the Great Depression keeping money in their mattresses. I think I am always going to have 3-4 boxes of masks in my linen closest for the rest of my life now. I don't know if the movie has an ending - maybe it's more like The Simpsons where it's always here but becomes more and more like white noise as the years go on.
I don't have a good film in mind for the transition here but I feel the reality is going to be a bit like the end of a British ww2 film if it reflected the aftermath - sure, it's a party, but sugar and chocolate are going to be on rationing until 1953. (That probably isn't the exact year, but both my parents, born during the war, get misty eyed when they recall that day, and they were fortunate enough to get chocolate etc. from overseas relatives or via other what we'll call informal imports). So there will be some level of catharsis and then picking up the pieces.
For me, part of that catharsis will probably be slightly unpleasant - my parents are now wholly vaccinated, and I'm getting my second shot next Friday, so at some point in April I'm going to visit... but my father, who has taken a beating in the health department over the last several years, has stage 4 cancer and after 2 extended hospital / rehab stays in the last 9 months (chemo-driven seizures and blood poisoning) is starting to show some cognitive damage, which has always been his main (unspoken) worry about age-driven decline. I'm just pleased that I can go to see the folks (and my brother and his family) without having to worry that I could inadvertently be infecting people along the way.
On a more cheerful note, my wife and daughters will be able to go back to Vermont this summer to work at / attend summer camp, which has been a defining time of their year since 2009, so even if I probably won't be able to pop in to see them per usual, that's a welcome return to "normal."
On a more abstract level... I'm not a terribly cheery person, but there have been some decisions I've made in the past that were driven by some sense of optimism. Having children was one of them. Another was becoming a US citizen, on the basis that it's a civic identity tied into an evolutionary process of self-government, and on that basis is more appealing than the half-assed tiara worshipping overly centralized country I'm from originally. I fear that the last year might have been the straw that broke that particular camel's back.
How we should end this movie is a deep internal look at how we much farther we need to go as a community to where we "think" we are, how we are going to end this movie is like either Justice League movie, more potholes than there are blogs to fill, and us all saying let's not do that again.
December 2019 I was sitting in a health law conference and a speaker from John Hopkins University was presenting on a Red Team simulation about a global pandemic, and I thought yeah this is just the movie Contagion, oh little did I know.
Whether we knowingly do it, I think we will carry this for the rest of our lifetime. It may not be 25lb bags of rice, but there may be a 5lb bag and a bag of dried beans tucked away in the back of a pantry. Maybe a cloth mask worn during flu season. Hand sanitizer every place. Picking up the phone to call someone more often.
If you have any influence with Biden, ask him to send more vaccine to us here in Canada. I'm getting my first shot Saturday, but Canada has a real supply problem, and my second shot isn't scheduled until July. I'm only getting a shot this week because I'm old. Fewer than 10% of us have had even one shot. Ask your buddy Joe to ship more. Send him a picture of Holly, that might help.
I’m currently in “refresh the screen” purgatory in my quest for a vaccine, and it’s discouraging, but at least I got one for my mother. In the meantime, I can focus on enjoying all footage of the gleefully evil Sheevy Palpatine. I stan a wrinkly emperor who giggles as he roasts me with lightning bolts. I don’t know why I find him so entertaining. “Somehow Palpatine returned.” Me: “Ok, that makes sense, they explained everything, works for me!”
I haven’t seen The Graduate in its entirety so this may be off base but today’s post made me think of the final shot in that movie. The two characters get on the bus and at first they’re happy, but the moment passes and you can see the uncertainty on their faces as they realize what’s to come. I’m scheduled to get my second shot in two weeks and I’m sure in that moment I’ll be happy and probably relieved. But there will be some level of uncertainty and anxiety that will stay with me for quite some time. The structural issues that were in place before the pandemic and caused many to suffer more than necessary throughout it are still largely in place. It’s hard to feel comfort knowing that.
My 25 lb bag of rice moment I think is going to be one of two concerts.
The first one is that my dad and I have tickets to see one of our favorite bands, Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit, in St. Augustine (we have seen them a couple times before). The concert was originally scheduled for April of 2020, then pushed back to August of 2020, then rescheduled for April of 2021, and finally rescheduled for July of 2021. As of now, it is still on his website. Finally getting to see that show will be a moment to feel like this has passed.
The second option is a band that I have become obsessed with in the pandemic is American Aquarium. I have listened to their 2020 album that Scott shared here in the newsletter a ton (I was in the top .1% on Spotify). That then bled into their back catalog too. They did 5 remote shows in August that were phenomenal (one for each of their last 5 albums) and made that desire to see them grow even more.
Now that the pandemic is somewhat easing and I only have 2 more daycare payments left, I have started to create a "Bucket List" of sorts of bands I want to see and they're at the top of the list. So, whenever they schedule a North/Central Florida show I will be there and that will be a surreal moment also.
Both of those shows will involve a few adult beverages, relief, and maybe some tears (I mean both of those acts kind of lend itself to that). It will be awesome!
The first minute of my 15 in observation from my second vaccine was the exact moment I noticed that per FB I was no longer listed as married to my wife so hooboy am I hoping that the sequel to this story has a much happier character arc for me than the COVID stretch did!
Congrats, Scott.
The recent months have helped me reflect on something I have to rein in once in a while, and that's the envy of what those around me are enjoying what I do not or cannot. It came to a head shortly after we moved to town, and found a growing church. I had an upside-down mortgage back home, rented an absolute craphole of a place thanks to moving on two weeks' notice, and we drove beat up cars. The promotion was nice, but rebuilding Rome didn't take a day either.
Every Sunday, happy families in their best dress casual, with enthusiastic kids, pulling in beside us in a shiny new people moving road fortress. The inferiority complex was feasting at this all-you-can-eat buffet of showiness. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that I'm just not that person, nor did I want the second mortgage just to get something that would sit in a parking lot while I sat at a desk drilling through databases and procedure documents.
I sit here in Florida, still befuddled at the snail's pace of vaccine eligibility changes. I have to combat jealousy as I hear friends all around the nation boasting that they are going in for first or second doses, or read headlines that the state an hour away is essentially opening the gates for everyone. I cheer for every last one of my friends who have gotten to the front of the line, and encourage those who haven't to at least get in the line. I have no idea how long I'll be waiting.
But, that's ok. Maybe that's where the story ends. The job isn't done. The work carries on, the light at the end of the tunnel is visible. The apprehension is waning and encouragement is taking its place.
Let's just pray there's no sequel. And thirty years from now, I don't want to hear about a remake, either.
As my wife and I were walking into the hospital to get our second jab, a woman leaving was attacked by a presumably rabid (and rather large) racoon. I didn't attach much significance to the even until right now, but it must have some place in some story arc (definitely for the woman attack, I suppose).
Side notes--I'm guessing if you're going to be attacked by a racoon, there's no better place than right outside of a hospital. Security treated the episode like an active shooter incident (having people run for cover while the racoon was roaming around, but without an explanation) so people coming to get their vaccines were fleeing back to their cars and running for cover.
I'm so happy you got the vaccine! I work in a field where I was lucky to get my shots early on. The second Moderna shot put me on my ass. I had a very similar reaction to the whole experience; like you I am over the moon to have these things in my arm and each social media picture of a friend holding their CDC Card brings me a new sense of relief every time I see one. But at the same time there is this sense that nothing is or will ever be bookended.
I think a lot about the stories of people who went through the Great Depression keeping money in their mattresses. I think I am always going to have 3-4 boxes of masks in my linen closest for the rest of my life now. I don't know if the movie has an ending - maybe it's more like The Simpsons where it's always here but becomes more and more like white noise as the years go on.
I don't have a good film in mind for the transition here but I feel the reality is going to be a bit like the end of a British ww2 film if it reflected the aftermath - sure, it's a party, but sugar and chocolate are going to be on rationing until 1953. (That probably isn't the exact year, but both my parents, born during the war, get misty eyed when they recall that day, and they were fortunate enough to get chocolate etc. from overseas relatives or via other what we'll call informal imports). So there will be some level of catharsis and then picking up the pieces.
For me, part of that catharsis will probably be slightly unpleasant - my parents are now wholly vaccinated, and I'm getting my second shot next Friday, so at some point in April I'm going to visit... but my father, who has taken a beating in the health department over the last several years, has stage 4 cancer and after 2 extended hospital / rehab stays in the last 9 months (chemo-driven seizures and blood poisoning) is starting to show some cognitive damage, which has always been his main (unspoken) worry about age-driven decline. I'm just pleased that I can go to see the folks (and my brother and his family) without having to worry that I could inadvertently be infecting people along the way.
On a more cheerful note, my wife and daughters will be able to go back to Vermont this summer to work at / attend summer camp, which has been a defining time of their year since 2009, so even if I probably won't be able to pop in to see them per usual, that's a welcome return to "normal."
On a more abstract level... I'm not a terribly cheery person, but there have been some decisions I've made in the past that were driven by some sense of optimism. Having children was one of them. Another was becoming a US citizen, on the basis that it's a civic identity tied into an evolutionary process of self-government, and on that basis is more appealing than the half-assed tiara worshipping overly centralized country I'm from originally. I fear that the last year might have been the straw that broke that particular camel's back.
How we should end this movie is a deep internal look at how we much farther we need to go as a community to where we "think" we are, how we are going to end this movie is like either Justice League movie, more potholes than there are blogs to fill, and us all saying let's not do that again.
December 2019 I was sitting in a health law conference and a speaker from John Hopkins University was presenting on a Red Team simulation about a global pandemic, and I thought yeah this is just the movie Contagion, oh little did I know.
Whether we knowingly do it, I think we will carry this for the rest of our lifetime. It may not be 25lb bags of rice, but there may be a 5lb bag and a bag of dried beans tucked away in the back of a pantry. Maybe a cloth mask worn during flu season. Hand sanitizer every place. Picking up the phone to call someone more often.
If you have any influence with Biden, ask him to send more vaccine to us here in Canada. I'm getting my first shot Saturday, but Canada has a real supply problem, and my second shot isn't scheduled until July. I'm only getting a shot this week because I'm old. Fewer than 10% of us have had even one shot. Ask your buddy Joe to ship more. Send him a picture of Holly, that might help.
I’m currently in “refresh the screen” purgatory in my quest for a vaccine, and it’s discouraging, but at least I got one for my mother. In the meantime, I can focus on enjoying all footage of the gleefully evil Sheevy Palpatine. I stan a wrinkly emperor who giggles as he roasts me with lightning bolts. I don’t know why I find him so entertaining. “Somehow Palpatine returned.” Me: “Ok, that makes sense, they explained everything, works for me!”
I haven’t seen The Graduate in its entirety so this may be off base but today’s post made me think of the final shot in that movie. The two characters get on the bus and at first they’re happy, but the moment passes and you can see the uncertainty on their faces as they realize what’s to come. I’m scheduled to get my second shot in two weeks and I’m sure in that moment I’ll be happy and probably relieved. But there will be some level of uncertainty and anxiety that will stay with me for quite some time. The structural issues that were in place before the pandemic and caused many to suffer more than necessary throughout it are still largely in place. It’s hard to feel comfort knowing that.
This really hit home for me. I’m a month removed from my second Pfizer dose. Yes, I’m very grateful. But not much has changed. It’s an odd feeling.
Glad you got the shot. We're still a ways out. I need to get my hustle on and figure out some place to get it earlier than May
My 25 lb bag of rice moment I think is going to be one of two concerts.
The first one is that my dad and I have tickets to see one of our favorite bands, Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit, in St. Augustine (we have seen them a couple times before). The concert was originally scheduled for April of 2020, then pushed back to August of 2020, then rescheduled for April of 2021, and finally rescheduled for July of 2021. As of now, it is still on his website. Finally getting to see that show will be a moment to feel like this has passed.
The second option is a band that I have become obsessed with in the pandemic is American Aquarium. I have listened to their 2020 album that Scott shared here in the newsletter a ton (I was in the top .1% on Spotify). That then bled into their back catalog too. They did 5 remote shows in August that were phenomenal (one for each of their last 5 albums) and made that desire to see them grow even more.
Now that the pandemic is somewhat easing and I only have 2 more daycare payments left, I have started to create a "Bucket List" of sorts of bands I want to see and they're at the top of the list. So, whenever they schedule a North/Central Florida show I will be there and that will be a surreal moment also.
Both of those shows will involve a few adult beverages, relief, and maybe some tears (I mean both of those acts kind of lend itself to that). It will be awesome!