Perspective is the Miracle Cure

I’ve been lax in keeping up with this blog, and now that my area is well over a month into a “safer at home” policy to flatten the curve of COVID-19, I wanted to lend a little perspective. Regarding the virus that has now killed more Americans than were killed in the war in Vietnam, I'll admit, I've been snarky and irreverent at best, asshole-ish at worst. I’m starting to hit the boredom wall and whenever I feel like I should hit the garden with my urban farmer guns a-blazin’, I think about that next episode of The Man in the High Castle and hunker down like a good, brave GenX COVID-19 warrior would do.

We’re now in 2020, and the generation who survived a cataclysmic, man-made, ego-driven event (World War II) nearly gone with the ages. That is, except for the few remaining here with us, now in their 8th or 9th decade of life. My mother is one of them. I think of my 91 year old mother. Mom—friends call her Lou—is not afraid of the virus--not unafraid like the foolish zombie Faux News adherents age 50 and above. Not that at all.

Lou is keeping herself safe, unlike a few misguided folks hankering for a burger at that bastion of “haut cuisine,” Applebee’s, and a haircut, and thankfully has the company of her granddaughter throughout this strange period. But at the beginning of this whole Coronavirus pandemic, going back to January, her words never changed: “If it comes here, I’m not afraid.”  Her words do not come from bravado, although, for someone who stands a full 15 inches shorter than me, she is, as my late father said, “a tough broad.”

Her words speak of struggle and perspective.

We've got our social media and the internet. We've got 24/7 knowledge and pretend facts being rammed down our throats. Mom--bless her heart--she had it easy (I'm being sarcastic here, so work with me on this).

1. Her father left Lithuania when she was barely two years old, to find a better life in Canada. She never saw him again. The few times she has spoken about him, the pain was clearly evident in her eyes.

2. When she was barely 13, she and her mother and brother fled Lithuania. The Soviets (today's Russians, but same belligerence) had invaded her country, instituted laws that were meant to eradicate her country, her culture and her language. What little she had (including her dog) were left behind and she made her way into Nazi-occupied Poland. There, she was placed in a refugee camp, not knowing the language, and just a *scōsh* more hospitable than the Soviet-run home she left.

3. As Soviets advanced toward Germany, she made her way west. She found herself in Dresden. She

Dresden 1945

was there in February 1945. Google Dresden 1945, and you'll understand what I'm getting at. By sheer luck, she was held in a boxcar with other refugees near a train depot on the outskirts of town. Ask her what the heat of phosphorus bombs and the resulting fire coming through the cracks in the boxcar walls felt like a couple of kilometers away from ground zero.

4. She left Germany in the 1950's, to come with her husband, child and mother to a country where, again, she didn't know the language. Using the tools of television and necessity, she learned English, to add to her other portfolio of linguistic talents. Mom started a life with her husband, and while we can’t say it was the American Dream come true, it was (and still is) a good life.

Sophia Loren throwing epic stink-eye

Keep this in perspective. COVID-19 is bad. It's worse than the flu. According to certain reports, it also is contributing to other debilitating ailments that, if you have the misfortune of contracting the disease, and good fortune of surviving, you may have a constant reminder for the rest of your life. And the most insidious of all, we don't know who's carrying it and who is spreading it. Worse than that, we have an incompetent federal response to the pandemic, abdicating responsibility for the safety of the citizenry to (or, worse, committing larceny from) individual states. But we have social networks. We have connections that still keep a bare thread between us, despite social distancing and the occasional “stink eye” look that comes with approaching the six-foot air barrier.

Think about a teenage girl, separated from her mother and brother, making her way through a war-ravaged continent, constantly finding herself to be a stranger in a strange land.

And yet...and YET...she persevered. She has maintained a wry sense of humor. And she's not frightened, except for, maybe, running out of toilet paper.

Keep things in perspective.

Pachamama

Perspective IS the miracle cure. The more you keep things in perspective and empathize with those who have walked this Earth before you and do so with you, the more you will be able to withstand the necessity of social distancing and isolation. Don’t be misguided by AstroTurfing “spontaneous” groups demanding to open up theeconomy before it is time to do so safely and deliberately.

It won't be easy (Lord knows I'm stressed about my 401k being down about the cost of a south side Milwaukee bungalow). Keep your eyes on the prize--we will get through this and rebuild. Most of all DON'T PANIC! Perspective. That’s the key. We are not living in rubble. The air is much easier to breathe. Mother Nature is getting a break from us wreaking havoc on the only home we have (and in a battle between Pachamama and human beings, my money’s always going to be on Pachamama. Don't believe me? Watch the video). 

If a 4' 10", nonagenarian lady with a bright smile and a heavy eastern European accent doesn't sweat it (but still sticks with keeping sequestered at home), neither should we. Stay safe and keep well. And with sincerest respect, stay the fuck home too.

Keep your eyes on the prize. The prize is more important than standard of living. The prize is LIFE.