PANDEMIC

Today I found myself reflecting upon the possible impact of global pandemic.  Tell-tale common cold symptoms helped me take this initiative.  Sitting here, sniffling my seconds away, an odd thought struck me:  no matter how prepared, fortified, courageous, and William-Wallace-like I may endeavor to be, when the end comes, it might just begin as imperceptibly as a sniff, as inevitably menacing.  I'll feel ill, and then, when 10 days comes and goes, I'll know. 

Pandemic.  

I will know that no amount of planning has vaccinated me for this moment.  I will not be immune to the tides of the end.  I will get sick, wonder what's going on, and perhaps in the last few moments of coherence, I will remember this blog and I will know-it happened.  

This type of aversion towards disastrous disease has quietly imbedded itself in the collective unease in this country, like a germ.  We may not put it into words exactly, but first the economy, next my health, and then the end will come.  Back in 2001, letters burst from bulging mailboxes because no one wanted to contract anthrax.  And although I certainly don't blame my fellow Americans, I do find myself wondering if anthrax was always considered a dangerous biological weapon since its inception sometime in 1600 B.C.  One of the oldest "grazing diseases" recorded, anthrax is mentioned by Homer, Virgil, Hippocrates, and is thought to be the active agent in the Book of Exodus as well.  Maybe people snuck infected skins under dusty doors to bring nations to their knees then too...I just don't know.  

So maybe our scope is a bit narrow—but don't we have reason to be paranoid?  At this point in our rather cataclysmically inclined world, it does seem any and all insanity is quite possible.  Whether it’s my money dissolving somehow in a series of complex overseas trustfund somersaults or suicide bombers resurrecting the kamikaze approach, there seems to be no reason anymore.  Now added to this, I suppose, is the irony that my “money” is really imaginary currency of agreed upon value, so deemed by whoever’s in charge, and since technically anything can happen in imaginary play, perhaps the idea of disappearing items of unreality shouldn’t be so strange.  It’s still annoying though, like a thieving Monopoly banker.  And “suicide bomber” and “resurrection” showing up in the same sentence is just profane, I think you will agree.  And isn’t it just that? 

Now added to all this stress is PANDEMIC.  How long would we last if say, this swine flu thing really took off?  Would I even know what happened?  Probably not.  Like most high school relationships, I’d give it a week.  And like my students, you may deny, deny, and continue to deny this, but in the next moment, inevitably the text will be sent, “You’re a nice guy, but…” You know it’s true.    

So looming ever over us is the horrid possibility of extinction by mutating, evolving disease.  But such was the plague to Europe, small pox to natives, and currently aids in many countries of the world—fortunately our adapting immune systems and science laboratories have caught up in time, before total wipeout.  Will they this time?

But perhaps more importantly, what does it all mean??  Sure, I’ve filled your head with a lot of monologuing in high definition 6 o’clock news style, but why?  Because my nose started running.  This alteration in my sense of normalcy led me toward questions, toward my computer, toward the keyboard, and into realms far beyond.  Are any of these points legitimate?  Who knows.  All I know is that no matter the height of my concern for the human race, foremost on my mind right now is did I bring my tissue with me and do I have cough drops…?