Testing our patience, but not testing potential patients

I think the virus is mocking us. It is surely testing our collective patience.

I'm fully vaxxed and boostered and so, now, as of yesterday, I can go to any restaurant or gin mill in the City of Chicago and/or the County of Cook and eat and drink to my heart's desire. Which I have absolutely no desire to do.

Near as I can tell, most people in my shoes (in my quivering boots, some may say) are reluctant to venture out in the world lest the virus follow us home. It has to be tough to own a bar or a beanery right now.

Part of the timidity of so many among our fully-vaccinated is the deliberately frightening tone of the media coverage. (If you have an extra 4:23 or so, you may wish to watch the video embedded in the linked Substack article by Matt Taibbi and Matt Orfalea -- very dark, but humorous.)

I do not take lightly a disease that has killed more than 820,000 of my fellow Americans (according to figures published by the CDC) since it first came to our shores in early 2020... or maybe late 2019.

But things have changed since COVID-19 first imposed itself on our collective consciousness, right?

We have a vaccine now -- several vaccines, actually, and more in the pipeline -- which, while not always preventing Covid infection entirely, seem very effective at protecting vaccinated persons from the worst consequences of Covid -- like death, for example, or even hospitalization.

Of course, hospitalizations are rising -- soaring, actually, in many places, including right here in Illinois: An IDPH press release dated December 30 states that, as of the evening of December 29, "5,689 individuals in Illinois were reported to be in the hospital with COVID-19. Of those, 1,010 patients were in the ICU and 565 patients with COVID-19 were on ventilators."

But, we are told, repeatedly, that the overwhelming majority of those hospitalized for Covid have not been vaccinated. They are the scoffers. The deniers. The quoted IDPH press release ends with a familiar mantra: "Vaccination is the key to ending this pandemic."

That's right... isn't it?

The scoffers should be a self-correcting problem. Please understand: I am not some ghoul, thirsting for the demise of my 'less enlightened' fellow citizens. There are such persons, as even casual reference to Facebook or Twitter will document. But I am not one of these. Nor am I referring to the several, widely reported deathbed conversions of committed anti-vaxxers.

All I'm getting at is that many scoffers who may not believe there's a serious problem -- who reflexively discount as overblown or even fabricated much of what they see or hear online or in the media (except that which agrees with their preconceived notions) -- will, according to the law of averages, and the relentless spread of the virus, eventually catch the Covid, or someone near and dear to them will. At that point, they will presumably 'get religion' and seek out their shot. It's one thing to refuse to believe in the MSM, it's quite another to deny the evidence of one's own eyes. Or lungs. However -- if the only people they know who get the virus suffer no ill effects or have only mild symptoms -- that's fine, too. It is a matter of scientific fact that some people are naturally more resistant to viruses than others. And if some scoffers possess a natural resistance to COVID-19, then, despite their refusal to be vaccinated, these persons will not clog up the healthcare system. The point is, the pool of susceptible scoffers will continue to diminish and, eventually, dry up.

And, maybe, sooner rather than later.

Because the virus seems to have changed, too.

Several sources -- including, tentatively, provisionally, even Dr. Fauci himself -- are suggesting that the new omicron variant of the Covid bug is more contagious... it will spread around like wildfire, just as current figures would indicate... but it is also less likely to result in death or serious illness.

That's good news. Not that I want another cold virus running through the population each winter -- but I'll take that any day over a potentially lethal virus, especially one with lingering consequences for many of those who ostensibly 'recover.' As Covid first presented.

We've learned a lot about how to deal with Covid... haven't we?

It's not just vaccines: The benefits of mask-wearing -- once controversial even among scientists -- are widely accepted now. It turns out the Japanese, among others, were way ahead of the game on this. I may never ride the subway again without a mask.

And I would like to think we always knew about the benefits of hand-washing. Certainly our mothers did.

Modest measures make a difference.

So why aren't things back to "normal" yet?

Besides the fact that there are so many scaredy-cats like me, and the fact that media outlets get more bucks and clicks if we stay scared, there is the slight problem that COVID-19 is a master of disguise.

Unless and untill it turns serious, Covid resemmbles an ordinary cold in many cases, or a normal flu in others. The list of typical Covid symptoms is basically a list of complaints that virtually all Chicagoans have between November and April: Clogged sinuses, alternately stuffy and runny nose, sore throat. Some people have Covid and never show any symptoms at all.

How can you stay home when you're sick if you don't know you're sick?

Fever may be an indicator that one has more than a normal cold. But it may be only the flu.

Vomiting or diahhrea may indicate Covid... but may be just a norovirus.

The CDC says testing is the key to determining whether one has Covid or something else.

But existing Covid testing is not recommended, and not as reliable, until five days after potential exposure. Which prevents the early intervention of treatment strategies that may stave off the worst consequences of Covid. And one is contagious with Covid for a day or two before any symptoms appear -- if any appear at all -- so the date of exposure may be difficult, or impossible, to pinpoint. Because of the absence of timely testing, and despite the best of intentions, an infected person, even a vaxxed and boostered one, may wander about unwittingly infecting everyone around.

If there were enough tests to go around, and if these weren't as invasive as the nasal and throat variety that seems to predominate currently, maybe then we could confirm our non-Covid status every time we wish to go abroard in the world. Or perhaps to a saloon.

But the tests would have to be available for the vaxxed and unvaxxed alike. And they'd have to be reliable. And then unicorns would dance in the fairy glens and we would all have jetpacks, too.

Realistically, because reliable, prompt, ubiquitous testing is not and will not be available anytime soon, the only solution may be (a) get your shots, (b) wear masks in crowds or in public indoor spaces, and (c) hope that Covid continues to moderate.

Is it just me? Or is 2021 starting to look more and more like 2020 II?

Sequels can be awful.

COVID trends: Riding for a fall this fall?

It hasn't gone away, you know.

The 'rona is still out there, causing mischief.

Gosh, that makes me sound like a scare-monger, and that's not my intent.

But six rescue workers at the terrible Surfside, Florida condo collapse recently tested positive for COVID-19. They're gone, now, from the site. It was unclear, according to the linked New York Times story, written by Jesus Jiménez, whether any of the six had previously been vaccinated.

That same Times story says that 65% of all Florida residents aged 18 and up have received at least one dose of a coronavirus vaccine, while 56% are fully vaccinated.

Despite it being a much "bluer" state, the Illinois figures seem pretty comparable: More than 72% of all Illinois "adults" have received at least one vaccine dose, while 57% of all Illinois "adults" are fully vaccinated, according to a July 9 announcement from the Illinois Department of Public Health. (Adults is the word IDPH uses, as opposed to persons 18+ or 21+ so I can't say authoritatively, from this, that our comparisons are exact. They must be pretty close, though.)

According to a Times database cited in Jiménez's article, new COVID cases in Florida have risen 55% in the last two weeks.

What would you expect from one of those crazy Red states, right?

Except... in a June 25 report, the IDPH reported 1,744 new COVID-19 cases in Illinois during the preceding week. Two weeks later, in the July 9 weekly update previously linked, IDPH reports 2,945 new or suspected cases... which works out to a nearly 69% increase in a comparable two-week span.

The City of Chicago doesn't report its figures the same way. As of today, however, the City's COVID Dashboard reports a 21% increase in the average number of new COVID cases over last week -- 41 as opposed to 34. So a small number, but increasing nonetheless.

The number of vaccinations is declining in Chicago on a week to week basis -- with 56.5% of all Chicago residents having at least one vaccine dose -- and only 50.5% fully vaccinated. (Why do the City totals continue to lag behind the State? I thought most of the Fox News-viewing Republicans were located outside the City of Chicago.)

On the other hand, Illinois is reporting, as of July 9, "The preliminary seven-day statewide positivity for cases as a percent of total test from July 2-8, 2021 is 1.5%. The preliminary seven-day statewide test positivity from July 2-8, 2021 is 1.7%." That compares favorably with the 5.5% national positive test rate reported by the Mayo Clinic.

That same Mayo Clinic site---as of today---does not show Illinois as a COVID hot spot, not compared with Florida, or Missouri, or Arkansas, or Louisiana. Even Iowa is worse off than we are in Illinois, on a number of COVID cases per 100,000 residents basis, according to the Mayo Clinic site.

But for how long?

We're starting to see---and enjoy---in-person events again. In my corner of the City, some people still wear masks. (I don't... but I almost always have a mask with me, just in case I wind up in a crowd or among strangers from whom I can not keep a distance... and I am fully vaccinated, thank you.) In suburban areas, according to my kids, very few seem to be wearing masks anywhere.

And yet... there are specific indications here, not just in Florida, and not just in IDPH press releases, that COVID cases are continuing to pop up. Last Friday the Chief Judge's Office announced another case, this one afflicting an employee of the Adult Probation Department in the Skokie Courthouse.

I know this is not how it is supposed to be... and I can't prove it, certainly... but my hunch, based on lifelong experience, is that, these days, the vast majority of those people still wearing masks are almost certainly vaccinated. Which would mean that a lot of unvaccinated persons are not.

Which, in turn, would presumably mean that things will get worse again... soon?

Even though the mask mandate has been lifted, sort of, go ahead and wear a mask if you want to

Governor Pritzker's latest Executive Order is not a blanket abandonment of the mask mandate.

Masks must still be worn in schools and day care settings and "on planes, buses, trains, and other forms of public transportation and in transportation hubs such as airports and train and bus stations" as well as "in congregate facilities such as correctional facilities and homeless shelters" and "healthcare settings."

For any non-lawyers in the audience, here is how you say "if you're fully vaccinated you don't always have to wear a mask anymore" in Classic Legalese:

Any individual who is not fully vaccinated and who is over age two and able to medically tolerate a face covering (a mask or cloth face covering) shall be required to cover their nose and mouth with a face covering when in a public place and unable to maintain a six-foot social distance. This requirement applies whether in an indoor space, such as a store, or in a public outdoor space where maintaining a six-foot social distance is not always possible.

But, though you can now go maskless, there will still be restrictions on where you can go maskless.

Stores are not required to stop insisting that customers wear masks. Yesterday's Executive Order expressly provides that "Nothing in this Executive Order prevents [covered businesses] from undertaking stricter or additional public health measures; to the contrary, businesses are encouraged to prioritize the health and safety of their workers and customers, and may continue to require face coverings and social distancing, even for those who are fully vaccinated."

So your local grocery, or local law office, can continue to insist that visitors wear masks.

And there is absolutely nothing in this new Order that prevents or discourages individuals from choosing to wear masks wherever and whenever they want.

My wife started making face masks right at the beginning of April 2020, when the CDC first tentatively suggested that -- maybe -- and they're weren't too sure about it, either -- face masks might provide some protection against the spread of the COVID-19 virus. She made masks for us, for our five kids, their respective spouses, and all of our grandchildren who were two years old or older, and she kept on making them throughout the year, in a variety of colors, patterns, and styles.

Our initial deliveries were front-porch or screendoor dropoffs -- covert operations, necessary to avoid detection. Our granddaughters prefer unicorns, rainbows, and sea horses. We all have Bears masks and most of us (there are a couple of dissenters in the family, but we're working on them) have White Sox masks. My wife just finished making me some gray and black masks -- more formal, I thought, for business use.

Because I do intend to use them, and keep on using them, for some time, even if Costco or the Jewel or the Circuit Court of Cook County says I may do without.

I will do this not because I'm afraid exactly -- even though I freely admit to being a practicing coward -- but because I think it a prudent thing to do. For now. Maybe forever on buses, trains, and planes: Because if the mask helps prevent acquisition of the COVID-19 virus it may also spare me from colds and flus and other maladies which, until now, have been an annual winter burden.

And I am not "doubting the science." First of all, there is no such thing as "the science." Scientific knowledge changes more frequently than the weather in Chicago, and sometimes less predictably. And while there may be a consensus on this principle, or that one, at any given moment, consensus is not the be-all and end-all either. After all, at one time there was an absolute scientific consensus that evolution was impossible or that plate tectonics were a fantasy.

Good science is grounded in observation, and I have observed in my own little corner of the world that I just had the healthiest winter I've had in years. The conclusion drawn from this observation appears to be corroborated by media reports that flu cases were down dramatically this winter, and other reports that makers of cough and cold remedies did not have their usual robust sales this past winter.

Nor do I claim to "know more" than the scientists. In today's hyper-politicized America, the Trumpians are shouting that the liberals must now be claiming to "know more" than the scientists because they do not burn their masks as soon as the CDC says it may be safe to put them down. The current braying represents a sarcastic inversion of the recent charges against the Trumpians that they were claiming to "know more" than the scientists when they refused to wear masks or downplayed the seriousness of the virus or whatever.

I will resist the temptation to observe that the present mask-relaxation trend seems less about science and more about peruading the unvaccinated to go ahead and get their shots -- look, the argument seems to be, if you will just get your shots, you too can go without a mask.... Which would be a heck of a lot better argument if the people who still need to get their shots were people who were compliant with the mask regulations in the first place.

And I am not doubting the efficacy of the vaccines by continuing to use a mask when and where I choose. I don't doubt the science. Which means I don't doubt that, as the best available science indicates, unless and until true herd immunity is reached, the virus will continue to mutate and spread and can "break through" even against the vaccinated.

The COVID-19 virus is weird in so many ways. Many people have gotten it without knowing it. Many have gotten it and suffered minimal ill-effects. Many others -- some 586,000 or so of our fellow Americans -- have gotten it and died. And even if that number is exaggerated, or inflated, or whatever the doubters say, the virus is still real and really dangerous. Even if it's not always dangerous: I know someone in the neighborhood who has been in the hospital with COVID-19 since the end of March. She's been on a ventilator and in a medically-induced coma for much of the time. She's showing improvement lately, and we can only hope for her and her family -- none of whom became seriously ill -- that this encouraging trend will continue.

But, in the meantime, I'll continue to keep my masks handy. And I'm OK if you choose to do so, too.

I read this this morning without wearing a mask

I am getting so brave.

(Doonesbury Comic obtained from GoComics.com.)

Looking forward to "getting back to normal" -- but maybe not all at once

I'm see that I'm almost a month late getting to my friend Bonnie McGrath's most recent column on Chicago Now, "Everyone's looking forward to 'getting back to normal' but me," which isn't surprising, I know: A day late and [only] a dollar short would be a victory for me....

I sympathize with much of Bonnie's kind-of-squeamish attitude about the world's halting, uneven return to normalcy.

I've had my shots---no, not at Loretto Hospital, thank you---and my side effects were minimal, even less on the second shot than on the first. (I was feeling pretty smug about that, too, until my kids informed me that really old people are less likely to have troublesome side effects with the vaccine than younger people. Thanks, kids.)

But, like Bonnie, there are some aspects of my former life I am not so anxious to resume.

I'll not be dining out anytime soon. Or going to a movie. Even though I think watching a movie is best done in a theater.

And I'm likewise in no hurry to start taking the train again. I was never a fan of being wedged in a CTA Blue Line car like a sardine. I really didn't like it during the evening rush on hot summer days. I'm tall enough that no one's backpack actually poked me in the eye. But I got punched in the gut with them many times.

I'm told it's much less crowded now.

Still, I'll wait. And when I do go back on the train, I'll be wearing a mask.

I'm in no hurry to ditch wearing a mask in crowds of strangers.

Like a lot of you, I'm sure, my wife and I cut back on our grocery visits during the past year. Lately, though, while we're still going half as often, both our local Jewel and Costco seem twice as crowded. My wife invariably notices people in the stores who aren't properly wearing their masks. He's old enough to know better, she'll hiss, gesturing surreptitiously at someone whose beak has protruded over his mask. I try not to look. I prefer to think we're all still compliant.

Bonnie mentioned that she serves on a number of boards, and she's happy to keep attending them virtually. One of the boards I serve on is having a meeting next month live and in person. And the host suggested we might decide, close to the meeting date, to dispense with the wearing of masks. A couple of board members balked. I suggested that anyone who wants to wear a mask absolutely should, and no one should say them nay. I think that should be the rule for all of us. In any setting. For as long as any of us wants.

But, unlike Bonnie, I'm looking forward to attending meetings in person.

Zoom meetings are better than audio-only telephone conferences, but there is no substitute for seeing a person in person. One can read a room much better, and more accurately, than a screen full of faces.

For the same reason, I'm anxious to get back to court. Zoom hearings are fine for routine matters, and I know some practitioners who are thrilled to be able to log out of a hearing in Bridgeview and into a hearing in Markham without leaving their kitchen, but, in my opinion, anything serious should really be done with all persons present. Even if we all wear masks.

Bonnie mentioned that she's resumed service as an arbitrator. I got called recently to serve as an arbitrator in Rolling Meadows. I was unreasonably happy to be setting foot in a courthouse again. I think the Deputy Sheriffs were a little concerned.

This past Sunday I was able to attend Mass in person (with masks, definitely) and thereafter able to go to the White Sox game (ditto). I liked being among people again -- but I also liked keeping my distance from those not in my "bubble." Some of this may be a natural function of age---even I have to admit that I am no longer likely to be offered the juvenile lead in any plays---but I think it also, at least in part, a function of my own squeamishness about fully jumping into a pre-pandemic "normalcy."

We'll all have to find a new balance point as Covid (hopefully) ends and we get our lives back. Bonnie's approach and mine may differ somewhat, but not in fundamentals.

There was one sentence, though, in her post that alarmed me---and I quote---"I love cable news running all day as my basic connection to life."

Oh, no! You don't have to subscribe to every position espoused by Glenn Greewald, Bari Weiss, or Matt Taibbi to see the dangers inherent in cable news -- any cable news.

We have been isolated in our houses for a year. Our society was becoming increasingly atomized before that; it is far more so now. How we atomized-individuals reconnect and recombine when we return to the real world will determine whether we will continue to have a civil society. And cable news divides us, forces us into 'silos', and fans our worst instincts.

I submit that the real real world is found on our walks around the neighborhood. Bonnie likes trying to guess the color of her neighbors' walls, the make and model of their fixtures, and what kind of food they have on their tables. My wife likes seeing what kind of flowers people have planted. There's a house in my neighborhood that has a giant RV that takes up almost all the fenced-in backyard. I've seen it parked in the street sometimes, but I've never seen how it gets from the street back into the yard. I wish they'd send out notices when they're going to move the darn thing.

The real world is found in those neighbors we see, even though we now avoid them on our walks, often with a good-natured shrug or wave, not the talking heads on TV. Our "basic connection to life"---in my opinion---are the people who are really in our lives, not just on our screens. One terrible thing about Covid is that so many of the truly important people in our lives were too long reduced to mere images on screens. But we're getting them back in our living rooms now, or at least in our yards. Even if we're not entirely ready for everyone else.

"I am not a cat." Just another practice pitfall we did not anticipate when this two-week shutdown started, 11 months ago

The video itself is presented below, but I can't imagine it will be available indefinitely. For that reason, I've included a still (both the video and the still were obtained from this post on Lowering the Bar, a site I link to on Page One).

When I saw this on the news last night my first thought was there but for the grace of God go I.

One of my sons texted me a different link to this story first thing this morning -- and it occured to me then that I am indeed fortunate not to have all the latest gizmos and whizbangs installed on my creaky old laptop. I could just imagine that this poor lawyer's kids or grandkids got hold of his machine and, in all innocence, left it on a setting the poor lawyer could not un-set. He refers to his "assistant" trying to help him de-cat his image, and I wondered if said assistant might be the kid who got him in this predicament in the first place. And then maybe couldn't remember---in the pressure of the moment---how to fix the problem.

I know your malpractice carrier and the good folks at ARDC will tell you that lawyers need to keep their work machines away from family members -- and this video presents a perfect illustration of why this advice is given -- but the kids or grandkids are not swiping the lawyer's machine to ascertain client confidences or business secrets. They probably would take it only as a last resort: Adobe Reader is no substitute for Fortnite. They would only swipe a lawyer's computer because all the other machines had been taken.

The Texas judge in question released this video for "educational purposes," adding, "It is crucial that this not be used to mock the lawyers."

You'll have no trouble with me, Your Honor. Not on this one. But my kids may be a different story....

Can these numbers possibly be real?

The lead story yesterday on POLITICO's Illinois Playbook was Census Down for the Count, addressing the impact that undercounting may have on particular local communities. This sentence jumped out at me (emphasis mine):

Illinois is ahead of the national average with a 72 percent response rate compared to 69 percent. But Chicago lags at about 55 percent.

I don't know, of course, how one can count the percentage of those counted if one does not know the actual count and, if we already know the actual count, how come we're still counting? But, then, it was my inability to complete the 300-level probability and statistics course that kept me from being a math major in college.

But if the compliance percentages are accurate, how can this possibly be?

The first big push for census compliance was underway when the world ended, back in March. We are now entering the eighth month of our two-week shutdown -- but I distinctly recall, during the actual first two weeks of the two-week shutdown, turning on the TV every day at 2:30 p.m., risking exposure, on some days, to whole minutes of Maury if the start of the IDPH briefing was delayed. With all industry, commerce, and ordinary social interaction at a standstill, I was also tuning in most mornings for the City briefing as well. And I also recall, vividly, being annoyed with the Governor and the Mayor prefacing their daily updates on the collapse of civilization as we had known it with virtual commercials about completing the census.

I can't fathom how anyone with a pulse didn't know---in March---about the need to complete and return the census form. I will admit that I hadn't done it before the world ended. But I did do it in March. It gave me something to do while waiting for next press conference.

Now I fully understand that some people, in some communities, may have been reluctant to participate. Even without the Never Ending Pandemic, as the Illinois Playbook noted this morning, referring to Rep. Chuy Garcia's concerns, "many residents born outside of the United States... may fear they’ll be questioned about their citizenship status, something President Donald Trump tried unsuccessfully add to the census." That explains some undercount, surely -- but 45% of the population of the City of Chicago?

The Census Bureau, for its part, said, in a press release Tuesday, that the count is "99.9% complete" with "33.1% counted by census takers and other field data collection operations, and 66.8% of housing units responding online, by phone or by mail." Which is a far cry from 72% compliance in the State of Illinois, or 69% nationally, or 55% in the City of Chicago. Somebody is doing the math wrong.

But, whoever's right, and whoever's wrong on the numbers, if you have not been counted yet, today is the deadline. You must go to the Census 2020 website today and make sure you are not part of the missing .1% -- or the missing 45%.

Laughter is the best medicine...

Except, of course, if you're sick. In that case, efficacious medicine would be infinitely preferable to laughter.

And, if you're not sick, an effective vaccine would do you far more good than even a hearty chuckle.

At the present time, however, we have neither a vaccine to prevent, nor medicine to treat COVID-19. We can merely laugh at our fears.

In this post, therefore, I've collected a number of posts that appeared on Facebook or that I shamelessly stole from others who were aggregating these gags for their own selfish purposes. I can't credit the original creators of this content because I don't know who they were.

But I do know that all of these made me smile. Perhaps some will make you smile as well.

Kind of funny, isn't it, how reality has a way of undermining expectations?

When the schools shut down, this one struck me as 100% true. But, then, my wife, and one of my sons, is a teacher.

But parents are nothing if not resilient...

Fortunately for the future of the world, teachers are not permitted to simply declare victory and retire.

Still, standards and fashions may of necessity be revised on account of the coronavirus shutdowns. Hopefully, however, not to this extent:

When the history of this unhappy time is written, academics will be puzzled by the fact that, to address the threat of a respiratory disease, American consumers hoarded toilet paper.

Yet this is what happened, and the Internet made fun of it accordingly:

We can all hope that this is not an accurate prediction of how a future monument to this time may look:

There are any number of TP-related jokes. Just this morning I saw this one online: Last night someone TPd my house -- and now it's worth $875,000.

I don't think this will work with TP...

...but I believe it is a proven method for starting a potato plant. My ancestors thrived on these... before the blight. If things don't get better soon, we may have to remember how they did it.

It's all too easy to get depressed, watching the news, and reading social media accounts. We are supposed to be hunkering down in our homes -- but first responders and medical personnel aren't allowed to shelter in place. They must brave the storm despite critical shortages of personal protective equipment. Some solutions to ease the PPE shortages will work much better than this, but none will be sillier:

Social distancing is nothing new to me. People have crossed the street to avoid me for years. But it can be hard to handle for some.

Newspaper horoscopes used to be prepared months in advance. If this had really been prepared some months ago, it would have been quite impressive:

Pets were overjoyed when the work from home orders came out.

But even for Man's Best Friend, too much of a good thing can become a problem....

There are very few places that we can go during the lockdown, and the grocery is one of them. This church sign offers shoppers a tip from the Old Testament that is very relevant.

Somebody else was channeling their inner Steven Wright when they posted this gem:

They said a mask and gloves were enough to go to the grocery store.

They lied. Everybody else had clothes on.

But even though the grocery store is a permitted destination, it is not necessarily a safe place to go. In fact, you are only as safe at the grocery as the store's least careful customer. That's why this one made me laugh so hard. That, and the fact that I am of a certain age and level of nerdiness:

I initially thought to close this collection with something snarky, like this:

But this seems more appropriate to the seriousness of the times:

If you're supposed to stay home, stay home. And if you can't stay home, because you are keeping the rest of us fed, or keeping us safe, God bless you. Either way, be well.

I admit to a certain amount of distraction on this morning before the primary....

I know, as the proprietor of a political website, even one focused on the bottom of the ballot, that I am supposed to be fully engaged in the primary, and I will, I promise, get back to it, though I didn't get back to it yesterday as I thought I would.

Instead of engaged, I am confused.

Why are we doing this?

Every other social activity has been curtailed in the last week.

Sure, I understand momentum and money, lots of money, behind the election machinery. But there was a lot of money, much more money in fact, in pro sports, and in the collegiate tournaments. And momentum? The build-up to the NCAA basketball tournaments is more astounding every year. But the tournaments got cancelled anyway.

My youngest son is an assistant baseball coach at Illinois Tech (what we used to call the Illinois Institute of Technology). First, his spring training trip got cancelled. Then, his season. It's a D-III school, so the seniors on his team who were robbed of their final season were spared the discomfiture of crying before prying television cameras, as some local athletes, in higher profile programs, were not. But there were tears, just the same. And now my son is cleaning out his desk at school (he teaches in a south suburban middle school) trying to set his students up to learn from home for the foreseeable future.

My oldest son travels for a living. That went by the boards. For relaxation, he watches sporting events. He was planning on using some miles for a Spring Training trip to Arizona to see the budding White Sox powerhouse. Gone, all gone. With their busy schedules, he and his wife don't cook a lot at home; they dine out regularly.

Yesterday, that was taken away, too.

I could go on, but everyone reading this has their own stories, some far more serious. We are all disrupted. All at sea.

I know these harsh restrictions are imposed as much for my benefit as anyone's. I am in reasonably good health -- coughing and sneezing and dripping off and on since before Christmas, battling congestion and fatigue -- but my grandchildren are young, and they have nothing to give me but their germs. That was funnier a week or two ago. Besides, my wife (a teacher, too) has come home all winter with stories about this family or that one succumbing first to Influenza A, then Influenza B, then strep; at our worst, we were doing better than so many. The point is, I've been largely vertical all winter, able to help out with transport to or from school or doctor or to pick up and deliver sundries.

Now, I'm told, I'm at particular risk. A cancer survivor, I have far less colon than standard issue. But I think the real concern may be that, before I was 30, I had sarcoidosis. It was asymptomatic -- found by accident, really, while a surgeon was rummaging around in my chest looking for something else. This latest plague creates real problems with breathing, inexplicably worse in some than others. As the kid in high school who always finished last in the mile run -- even behind the really fat kid -- and, mind you, I was not a smoker then -- I'm a little concerned about whether my lungs will be equal to the virus when I get it.

So I'm worried about myself. And my kids. And my grandkids. And the economy. How long can people remain on salary 'working from home?' Money is evaporating in the stock market just as fast as if stacks of cash were piled in bushels and burned. Probably faster. And hourly workers in restaurants and bars, and those dependent on tips, are going to be without funds for the foreseeable future. How long must we hide in our homes until this contagion is contained?

And, yet, the election -- and only the election -- must go on.

The one in November, sure. That must happen regardless. But a primary? It could be done in August as easily as March.

But, no, we are told, it must happen, and it must happen tomorrow on schedule.

So... yes, I'm a little distracted this morning. Sorry.