Memoir Politics

On-Again, Off-Again

On-Again, Off-Again

COVID-19 is the gift that keeps on giving. We are all so very tired of the Pandemic lifestyle that we are all tending to get lax with our safety measures. After more than a year of being diligent with masking and social distancing, we may not be justified in letting down our guard, but we can probably all agree that we understand why it is happening. So far this summer, we have gone up to Mendocino, we have gone for a 25-person gathering in Utah, we have held a neighborhood meet & greet party with about 50 people and we have driven cross-country through a bunch of red states that are spiking with the Delta Variant infections. While traveling on Rt. 70, whoever we stopped for gas or a rest stop, I was always reaching into my back pocket for my two-layer mask and was pretty good about wearing it whenever we were around other people. Yesterday, I took our friend Candice to see the Midway Museum in San Diego. Kim was tied up and I knew Candice was hankering to see this vintage aircraft carrier since her father was a Navy man, so off we went first thing in the morning.

When we pulled into the pier parking lot directly adjacent to the docked ship, I got out and put on my mask almost as a reflex. It actually had less to do with the learned behavior of the past sixteen months than it had to do with all the recent reporting about the kick-up in infections starting in parts of the country where Republicans are dominant and consequently where there is a lower level of inoculation with the COVID vaccine. The politicized anti-vaccing stance may have some foundation in medical skepticism or distrust of the “liberal” community that is performing the vaccinations, but mostly it seems like a streak of anti-administration libertarianism that is choosing not to believe the scientific community as symbolized by Dr. Anthony Fauci. To agree to a vaccination has been made to feel like a small part of political heresy. Plenty of intelligent Republicans have taken the appropriate precautions to get their vaccinations, but more of them have stayed quiet about it rather than making a grandstand statement that their followers should do likewise. It’s amazing that the fearless leader himself, Donald Trump, got his vaccination early for himself and his family but hasn’t bothered to get out ahead of the issue on behalf of his followers. I guess he feels that would look too much like supporting the Biden COVID battle plan.

As it turned out, Candice had forgotten her mask so we asked if one could be purchased in the gift shop. We were told there were none, but not to worry,they were not required. We all watch news from around the country and the world and we know that in places as nearby as Los Angeles, mask wearing is coming back onto the table as a requirement for indoor gathering. Now, the Midway Museum deserves some analysis from an infectious disease standpoint. To begin with it was a summer Tuesday in a temperate (not too hot and not too cold) climate. The venue is a rather large ship with a hanger deck as its central gathering place. The museum parking lot was almost full when we arrived more or less at opening time. That said that the attraction would be well-attended, even on a Tuesday. This venue attracts about 1 million visitors each year with a higher attendance in the summer. I will presume using my attractions math knowledge that they are operational 330 days per year (all attractions need some down time for heavy renovations and maintenance). That would imply that there were about 4,000 visitors there that day plus staff, so say 4,200. The hanger deck was not packed, but it was well-populated. But with its high ceiling and open bays to the outdoors, it seemed that there was good air flow. But only about 30% of the attraction is on the flight deck (fully in the open air) and the hanger deck, the rest was a series of tours to go through the various parts of the ship.

Even a big ship like the Midway gets very small when you go below deck. The combination of steel bulkheads, low ceilings, narrow hallways and winding tour paths to allow visitors to see all the inner workings of the ship and how its large crew had to live in cramped quarters for extended battle tours. And of course, all visitors have their own pace of proceeding through this or any museum. Some make it a day-long affair while others get in to get a feel and want to get out. I will admit to being more the latter, but suspected and now know Candice to be more the former. But the relative speed of going through the rabbit-warren of the inside of an old aircraft carrier has far less to do with Candice and far more to do with the sheer number of people of differing backgrounds and interests trying to enjoy their tours at a pace that works for them. In other words, it was very slow going in cramped and warm quarters that were getting more and more humid as time went by. I will admit to not putting myself in the situation over the last sixteen months where I had to wear a mask for an extended time in such unpleasant conditions.

Regardless of the discomfort, the crowded nature of the tour of enlisted men’s bunks made me acutely aware that social distancing was being compromised more than I had ever dared for the past sixteen months. It’s one thing to hug your granddaughter and take that risk and its entirely another to share air and sweat and spittle with a group of unknown visitors touring a war ship in the middle of the Navy’s primary West Coast base of operations. Now I was touring the Midway and I am not a red hawkish member of the electorate, but my confidence was low that I was in the majority in the hold of that ship. I suspected that the majority of the visitors were more likely registered Republicans than registered Democrats. That meant that if I could believe the MSNBC news reports (which I generally do) the likely visitors to the Midway that day were probably on average 35% vaccinated (at least the adults). Since I estimate that one third of visitors were children and they are mostly not vaccinated, it is likely that less than 25% of the visitors were vaccinated.

When I went up to the flight deck after finishing the enlisted men’s bunks and such, I took my mask off and noted that it was soaked with sweat. It was not my imagination that it was uncomfortable down in the bowels of the ship. It was also not my imagination that the risks of contracting COVID-19 in that tight space at this time and place in America’s battle against this devastating Pandemic, was unreasonably high.

As I reflect on the day yesterday, I would bet that I was not exposed to the Coronavirus, but I also know that I am glad to have done everything I could to stay safe. I have a feeling that we will all need to be on-again and off-again and perhaps on-again for a while longer.