About A Stepdad

Each time we have to vote, the government sends out something that tells us what we need. It’s only two things, really –  A voter card and some form of ID (and I’ve worked at the poll stations, so everyone tries very hard to find something that works).

However, there are a few things they don’t tell you.

Thatsa why I’m here.

1. You have to wear pants (or at least, something to cover your underwear or naughty bits). You might have to wear a shirt, too. Maybe shoes. Heck, it could be the whole ‘no pants, no shirt, no shoes.’ things, but I’d need a volunteer to test out that theory.

2. Unlike the blood bank, you don’t get a sticker, a cookie, or a small carton of apple juice. Personally, I think this is a mistake. Our reward for being good citizens (other than, you know, getting a government that works) is a nice feeling. Add a few donuts, a nice cup of coffee, or a Porsche, and you’d increase voting % by orders of magnitude. Heck, even the used car guys don’t have a sale without at least a big blow-up gorilla or something.

3. You have to mask up and social distance. It might say that on the voter ID card, but I forgot to check mine before handing it in. However, no vaccination ID is required.

4. Remember to take a breath mint if you’ve just had a cup of coffee or eaten pickled onions, or else you’re breathing your own horrible breath for a while.

5. You have to bring a cell phone or a book or something to do if you’re in line for a while. In the old days, you might chat with someone about the weather or if Sam was really the hero of Lord of the Rings, but now, with social distancing and masking-up, you’ll be on your own.

6. Be nice to the people behind the voting desk. Like I’ve said, I’ve been there, and it’s stressful. In other years, there were two people there to make sure everything was done right, but this year, it looks like there’s just one, and if they’re like me, they’re muttering don’t ‘f*ck up, don’t f*ck up, don’t f*ck up,’ inside their head a lot (and sweating like they’re at a job interview and first date at the same time).

7. Don’t wear squeaky shoes. You have to walk through a gym, and when there’s only you and your squeaky shoes, you sound like a window washer using no washer on a window.

8. Don’t bring your dog inside. I know this seems like a no-brainer, but why would you do that? Also, it turns out that you can’t leave your dog with the people in the front. However, adding a dog handler may also fall under the ‘how could they make the experience more rewarding?’ thingee.

9. You can’t bring snacks into the voting area. Again, it would help if you got some coming out, but I guess they don’t want crumbs on the floor, anyone slipping on spilled coffee, or people taking their masks off to eat a McMuffin.

10. Voting matters. I know it’s hard to believe sometimes. I know that the individual gets lost in the metadata that governs our world. I know you may think one vote doesn’t matter, but have you ever seen ants make a bridge? That bridge happens because a bunch of individuals get together and say, you know what, we can make a difference here. So, please, take the time to vote.

And that’s it from me. I voted and will write my MP about having coffee and cookies next time.

Vaccination

I had thought that me getting the vaccine would end the pandemic. It didn’t. So much for the world revolving around me.

But let’s ignore me for the moment and see what’s happening around the world. Dow is at 33,799!!!! (an all-time high), but gas here is $1.50 (which seems like an all-time high). There are no shortages in the grocery stores, though the cost of lumber has DOUBLED in the last year. Yes, doubled. I haven’t done a scientific check but seems like a lot more is costing a lot more.

Here in beautiful BC, we have soaring Covid numbers as the new variants take hold. Pretty much all of the Vancouver Canucks are infected, and we’ve seen a rise of 50% in the number of hospitalizations.  Restaurants have been shut down again, and we’ve been advised to avoid indoor gatherings and travel. Schools remain open, as do (much to my surprise) the massive big-box retailers like Costco who are more packed than football stadiums.

However (yes, however), over 1,000,000 vaccines have been jabbed into people, and more are on the way. On Friday, April 9^th, they were doing 60+ but suspended AstraZeneca for people under 55 due to some very, very rare blood-clot complications.

For 55-65, though, they opened up those shots for us!

I guess us tail-end boomers don’t get blood clots. I guess we’re tougher than those under 55 young punk kids. It can’t be that we’re tougher than the 65+ though, because our Baba is 97 and has survived the great depression, WW2, cancer, multiple surgeries and the loss of her husband, and she can still spend a day cooking perogies or quilting a quilt. That’s hard for my generation to beat since we had no great war, no great depression, and the worse thing to happen was the destruction of the Star Wars franchise.

So, yeah, it must be that the data for blood clots says we’re ok. Data never lies, right? Right?

Anyway, they sent out a whole ton of vaccines to the drugstores to administer. Sadly, not all pharmacies got those doses, but here in the lower mainland, we had a pretty good selection and so I signed up right away. I mean, why not? I’m not at all worried about the shot or the blood clots and this is my chance to get to a 59-86% immunity.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World passed along some good advice from friends who’d done this – Sign up on multiple pharmacy sites and when you get a reservation, cancel the other ones.

That made sense, so I booked 6 of the nearest. None had slots available, but after filling out the on-line paperwork, I got an email saying that I hadn’t buggered it up and they’d let me know when a slot became free.

Then, Tuesday, I got the notice. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World was super excited, like I’d won the lottery or gotten my new book published, but me, I was just meh.

Don’t get me wrong, vaccines are a good thing, but even with the vaccine, I can still pass along the virus, so I will still be masked-up, unable to go and visit my friends and family on the Island, and apparently, not sit and write at my favourite restaurants.

No matter, on the day of my appointment, I went down to the pharmacy, stood in a properly social distanced line, and waited for my turn. As I waited, I marveled at how many types of condoms there are these days. Not something I usually shop for but it was as varied as getting a coffee at starbucks. I’ll have a double ribbed, extra large, non-latex, glow in the dark, strawberry flavour one, no whip cream, thank you.

When my name was called, I had to answer all the same questions I’d been asked on-line, then I rolled up my sleeve, looked away and clenched my sphincter. To my surprise, the needle hurt less than giving blood. I had to wait 5 min in case I had a bad reaction, but I didn’t – and that was that.

Two days later, unlike some people, I’ve had no bad reactions. No sweats, no chills, no growth of alien spider eyes. The worst I had to deal with was exhaustion. For two days, I felt like I’d worked a week on a farm. In the cold. With no food.

But by April 9^th, I was fine, and glad to help out society in some small way.

I usually love to celebrate anniversaries. I celebrate June 6th D-Day by watching Saving Private Ryan and staring at my collection of unbuilt tank models.

I celebrate the day I met the boys with a special present for them. I try to do something amazing for The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World on her birthday. And on the day we met. And on the day we got engaged. Aaaand, on the day we got married (which, being old, I often get confused with the day we got engaged – due to them being 2 days apart).

Seems she’s a pretty important part of my life.

But anniversaries are important. They are a reminder of life-changing events.

Some dates, though, I don’t so much celebrate as honor: Aug 4th, 2003, the day Firefly was canceled. Nov 11th, Remembrance Day. Dec 14th, the day my wife died.

But right around now, a whole bunch of pandemic anniversaries begin. If you ask the officials, it’s officially official, the date the pandemic started on March 11^th. We had over 100 cases at that point.

But is that the best date to remember?

On March 8th, our first Covid death occurred. Is that a better day to remember? Or when we reached 1,000,000 deaths world-wide on Sept 29th, 2020? Or when I decided to grow my hair to hippy length, April 15th, 2020 (spoiler alert, I can nearly make a man-bun now, how attractive is that?)

Or should we mark our personal pandemic party on March 13th – a year from when we had to quarantine?

I’m not sure.

So, instead, let’s take a speed run through the last year.

Winter early 2020: Epidemic. Pandemic. Scary warnings. Panic buying. Empty shelves. Quarantine. Lockdown. Travel restrictions. Flattening the curve. Stock market crashing. Gas at 78 cents. No sanitizers. No TP. Riots in the States.

No Ukrainian Easter.

Society collapsing?

Seemed like it.

Spring 2020: Social distancing. Masking up. Banging pots for brave front-line workers. Binge eating. Binge buying. Binge watching rom-coms. Numbers getting better. Bonnie Henry becomes a superstar. Spring break turns into summer break. F…ing murder hornets arrive. The-Oldest graduates – virtually.

Summer 2020: Visits with family. Small gatherings allowed. Good weather brings bad behavior – big parties, no masks, no care. Clusters. Community spread. Numbers rising. Eating at home. Isolation. Doom-scrolling. Zoom sessions.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World’s friends make a happy birthday video for her 50^th.

Fall 2020: Schools reopen. Churches remain closed. Retirement homes locked down. Some sports being played. Hockey for The-Youngest has no games. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World returns to the library. The-Oldest starts college – online. Markets back up. Unneeded BC election. Gas price at $1.36. Biden elected.

Winter late 2020 early 2021: Hope. 90% effective vaccinations coming online. Numbers rising again. No big family Christmas. No family New Years. No Ukrainian Christmas. Gretsky’s dad dies. UK bans the word breast-feeding (it’s now chest-feeding? And what I am supposed to cook for supper now, skiness, bonesless chicken chest???)

Everyone’s getting fed up, like people waiting in line too long for a milk shake at the drive thru.

But I feel like it won’t be long until we’re past all this so if we celebrate anything, let’s celebrate surviving a damn tough year. Let’s thank the front-line workers, teachers, and everyone who had to work – for being heroes. Let’s remember those beloved moments we lost (the hug from a Baba, the drink with a friend, the laughter of family) as well as the people we lost during this pandemic.

And let’s celebrate like hell when we can all finally be together, again, no matter what date it is.

Ok, so it’s now February 4^th.  How are we doing, world? Doing ok? Getting lots of sleep? Hydrating well?

See, the reason I ask is that you’re looking a little ragged – like a hungover sixteen-year-old who’s just staggered out of the bathroom after spending the night hugging the toilet and praying for death.

Lie down on the couch. Tell me all about it.

So what’s happening lately? Upset that some rich, entitled asshats decided it was a good idea to head to an isolated community and jump the line to get a vaccine? (Here) I totally get that they should be buried up to their necks in frozen seal pee and have polar bears gnaw on them, but that’s not likely to happen. I’m sorry people can be such selfish pricks.

Are you worried about what’s happening in the stock market? Concerned some hedge funds getting their butts handed to them by a bunch of Reddit groupies that decided to use a form of crowd-funding to make some money? (Here) I totally get that it’s like some nerdy pirates seizing a ship and then turning its guns on the fort.  Fun stuff. And who couldn’t kind of root them on? Likely it’ll end badly, but mad props to the pirates, right? – they’re fighting a rigged system by trying to re-rig the system.

Is it that you can’t get on a plane, go to a sunny, beachy place and sip colored drinks with umbrellas in them? (Here) Is it getting you down you can’t plan anything fun? I totally get that. Me? I would love to see Ireland, again, though there’s less sun there, in fact, no sun, and the last time I asked for an umbrella in my drink, the bartender replied, “Not in a fooking whiskey, you donkey-faced gobshite.”  I feel your pain, though.

Or are you thinking that censorship is getting way out of hand? Google going after 100,000 posts against Robin Hood Brokerage who are protecting the rich? Trump banned from Twitter? I totally get your concern that free speech is in jeopardy, and not from the government, but from unelected billionaire technocrats who have decided what you can or cannot say or do.

Let me paraphrase something written in the US Holocaust museum. First they came for the Trump supporters, and I did not speak out because I didn’t like them much, either. Then they came for the Reddit nerdlings in chat rooms who wanted to reshape the stock market, and I did not speak out because what the hell is Reddit? Then they came for anyone who disagrees with their political views, and I did not speak out because I was watching cat fail videos on YouTube. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

You’re right to be worried about those things, world. It’s ok to feel what you’re feeling. Here’s a glass of Irish whiskey. No umbrella. Drink up.

Better?

I thought so. It’s easy to focus on the moron who’s told that a restaurant has a no-mask-no-service policy, then yells and screams at the staff like a 2-year-old being told they have to put on pants to run around outside. Sure it’s easy to focus on the Governor of NY covering up the true death toll at the retirement homes or that Tom Brady plays for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

But take a deep breath, world. Avoid looking at the big clusterf*cks. Look at the little things. Look at a father who had to stay home due to Covid and now has the chance to walk his kids to school. Look at how I’ve learned to wear a mask without it fogging up my glasses. Look at how some of us (well, not me, but others) have bettered themselves by volunteering, donating to charity, leaving painted rocks with inspirational messages on the walking trails or simply doing the right thing because it’s the right thing. Look at the dew on the flowers, the frost on a spiderweb, the way the sun sets fire to the horizon sometimes.

There’s goodness and beauty out there, world. I promise you. Look no farther than the Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World.

Now, here, take the bottle with you. I’ll send you a link to the cat fail videos. (Here)

Good News Top 5.

Ok, with the pandemic kicking into high gear, again, and all sorts of bad news pumping through our media venues, it’s time to look on the bright side. So here are the top 5 things in the good news department.

1) A vaccine is here (and, a whole host of them coming), and let’s be clear on this, we did it FAST!!!!

Ok, the ‘we’ part kinda hints that I had something to do with it – and perhaps I did by shouting ‘where’s the vaccine?’ at the TV a lot but I doubt I’ll get any credit.

Anyway, the vaccines will hit the US and UK quickly, but being typically Canadian and somewhat disorganized at the best of times, we’re looking at dribbling our doses out – so it looks like the whole population won’t be inoculated until September. Still, the faster the world recovers, the less it’ll spread, the faster our economy will recover, and the less lives will be lost. Good news, me thinks. Good news, indeed.

2) There is a whole mash-up of new words to use in daily conversations.

I can totally verbize Covid now. “Lots of coviding out there, yesterday.” Meaning people partying without masks or social distancing., Then there’s ‘maskhole,’ or ‘covidiot,’ which basically means the same thing. Or look at ‘Quaranteam’. Super clever.

But my personal favourite is ‘doomscrolling’, that horrible habit of looking at CNN, Facebook, Instagram or Twitter to find super bad news like an addict getting a daily fix of despair, fear, and anger. (And if you want a reason they’re pumping the bad stuff, look here.)

3) Testing is now easy to access.

Oh, I know this for a fact as I had to go get tested, and, ok, sure, it feels like a plumber snaking out a huge clump of hair from your nose, but this fun experience can be yours by simply going online, booking a time, and driving to a drive-thru test site, (where, sadly, they do not serve coffee or donuts and didn’t laugh once when I suggested they do).

It can all get done in about 5 min (plus waiting time, which for me was another 15 min), which is awesome, and it’s good to know the resources are there for testing. I hear that somewhere they use a mouthwash, but not in Langley where we still do driving tests in flinstone mobiles.

4) We’ve made great strides in treating infected people. I know this doesn’t get a lot of play on the news, but there are a lot more treatment options, more drugs that work, and a better ability to recognize a covid patient in the first place. More here.

5) Locally, we seem to be trying really, really hard. Masking-up in our Save-On (last time I was there) was 100%. Plus, there is a decent amount of evidence showing that masking-up and social distancing works.

I know it’s confusing (mask, no mask, hydroxychloroquine good, hydroxychloroquine bad), and it seems like the health officials are fumbling around like 2-year-olds trying to figure out how to open the child-proof gates, but hey, they’re trying to learn what works (and what doesn’t) as fast as possible.

So, yes, super good news. I mean, look at the Black Death. It killed 200+ million people and lasted for 4 years.

But let’s not forget the best news. Most of us have survived this. We adapted. Overcame. Improvised.

Gunny Highway would be proud of us.

So, be safe, be healthy, and respect this new world.