Covid

It’s 4 a.m. and instead of sleep, powerlessness is on my mind. It’s a concept I’m quite familiar with, being that I’m in recovery: it’s the idea one must embrace to “take the first step.” The idea is, by admitting your powerlessness over whatever behavior or substance you are abusing, you begin on the journey of liberating yourself from the bondage of addiction. It’s a paradox I had a hard time reconciling in my early days of sobering up. A great line about step one in some of the Alcoholics Anonymous literature plays on a loop as I stare at the ceiling. “Who cares to admit complete defeat. Practically no one, of course. Every natural instinct cries out against the idea of personal powerlessness.” However, the list of things I’m powerless over has grown long.

The thing about an annus horribilis is that eventually it's supposed to end. Yet this has not been the case with 2020, which incidentally, according to the Chinese calendar, was a Year of the Rat, proving that the universe can be just a bit too literal sometimes. Dashed were the hopes that 2021 would be a fresh start, that the endless problems of 2020 would dissolve into the ether like so much smoke at a mostly peaceful protest. Instead this year began like it was going to be even more 2020 than 2020 was. Six days into 2021 and we'd already suffered an event so jarring that it's now denoted by just a date.

“Wearing a cloth mask to keep safe from a virus is like installing a chain link fence to keep mosquitoes out of your backyard.” That’s what a doctor friend joked to me in the early days of the pandemic. On 60 Minutes on March 8, 2020, Dr. Anthony Fauci said, “There’s no reason to be walking around with a mask. When you’re in the middle of an outbreak, wearing a mask might make people feel a little bit better and it might even block a droplet, but it’s not providing the perfect protection that people think that it is. And often there are unintended consequences — people keep fiddling with the mask and they keep touching their face.” Just a month later, the CDC guidance changed.

The last two years have felt a lot like a cosmic joke. I sometimes like to recap it to myself, just in the hopes of actually believing everything that’s going on. There’s a virus that strikes the elderly and obese and spares children, and two years later the most common mitigation strategy is putting ineffective and dirty cloth masks on schoolchildren. For adults in many blue areas, we’re forced to wear masks in a restaurant from the door to our table. In New York City, it’s even worse: you have to show proof of a vaccine that doesn’t prevent transmission in order to enter an indoor space, and also wear a mask. Yet it was at just the moment that life became laughably absurd that comedians stopped daring to tell jokes.

This week, my home country of Canada implemented a slew of new travel restrictions in response to Omicron, the newest ideation of what will surely be endless Covid variants. Based on the reports, this variant is mild and nothing to panic about. But hey, why not panic, just to be safe? And by “safe,” I mean “sufficiently naive and fearful so as to ensure we continue to comply with ever-irrational regulations and restrictions, dutifully marching along dressed in useless and humiliating masks that restrict both breathing and communication, and maintaining religious devotion to vaccines that only work in that they reduce symptoms.” Some countries and states have responded to Covid humanely and rationally.

The new Omicron variant of Covid-19 is “mild” and no reason to panic, according to one of the South African doctors who discovered the new strain. Nonetheless, American politicians and public health officials are extending mask mandates, expanding vaccine mandates, and warning of the potential for another lockdown. Pfizer is taking their cues and stepping in to play hero. Despite only having a week or two of research available to them, the pharmaceutical giant insists that preliminary lab results show that three doses of their vaccine work well at neutralizing the Omicron variant. How convenient that the so-called “booster” shot Pfizer and President Joe Biden have been pushing for months is now found to be super effective against this new variant.

As we near the final days of his term, New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio is taking his final shot at children by implementing an indoor vaccine mandate. This means that kids will not be able to dine indoors at restaurants, visit museums or do any number of other cultural activities around the city. Additionally, children ages five to eleven will no longer be able “to participate in high-risk extracurriculars including sports, band, and dance.” The new rules are as cruel as they are pointless. Twenty percent of New York City children ages five to eleven are vaccinated against COVID-19. That number is actually pretty high as kids face an extremely low risk of any kind of poor COVID outcome.

The long preen through the institutions continues. The latest celebrity to decide his presence is desperately needed on the political stage is Mehmet Oz, the famous TV doctor, who is running for Senate as a Republican in Pennsylvania. Dr. Oz's candidacy is expected to be less a tonic for what ails us than a ginseng extract supplement paired with an omega-3 multivitamin. Oz's detractors have accused him of using his popular daytime TV show to peddle junk cures, a charge that's certain to be front and center if he makes it out of the GOP primary. Oz has promoted "miracle" weight loss solutions, including claiming that green coffee extract can burn off the pounds. He's touted a tropical fruit called the garcinia cambogia as a great way to slim down.

One of the most gripping scenes in the classic film Casablanca is at the very beginning, when many of the characters who would feature in the story are seen together in a busy city plaza. Suddenly silent as a small Lisbon-bound plane passes overhead, they all look up, and the audience can see in their faces the cumulating stress of not knowing when, or even if, they would get out of wartime Morocco and fly to America. I never imagined I would experience anything remotely like that until just a few days ago when my twenty-eight-year-old son Zachary and I were wrapping up a long-planned and, due to the coronavirus, frequently postponed vacation to South Africa.

The word malaise, a general feeling of uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify, is creeping into discussions. It's a politically loaded word, following its use by President Jimmy Carter in 1979 to describe the country he could not figure out to how lead. Carter's specific use of the term focused on the energy crisis, when OPEC monkeyed with America's oil supply. But Carter saw that something much deeper was wrong. There wasn't just an oil shortage to manage, but a recession of hope, a crisis of confidence that someone would have to lead America out of. He perceived that we were tired, worn down, unable to come together in common purpose and fix something. It would be interesting to hear what Carter thinks about 2021, when things once again don't work well.