The pandemic diaries Chapter2
March 27, 2020
It’s my turn to talk. I’m Tommy West, Logan’s husband, and a big hello to everybody out there. I’m the knucklehead Phys-Ed-teacher-half of the two of us. Pandemic is supposed to be over in another week, but I don’t believe it. I talked with Aunt Kamesha yesterday, she’s a Nurse Practitioner, sorta like a doctor, just easier to talk to. She says this thing is very contagious, and won’t be over in a week or even a month. What a downer. Most people in our home town, Stoneport, don’t believe her. I’m a believer. If she told me the moon was made of green cheese, I’d hitch a ride and take a fork with me. It’s probably delicious.
Anyway, she says that some things are going on that don’t make any sense. The US Government and all the State governments have done a lot of elaborate planning based on some sort of mathematical model that she doesn’t think is right. Now, Aunt Kamesha is a great nurse and an awesome person, but she’s not a math genius. Doesn’t have to be with Logan and Antoine available. Me, I’m good for clearing the table and doing the dishes. Anyway, Aunt Kamesha says that the virus is very contagious and expects people to be catching it well into the summer. She also says that the fatality rate the model uses is a red flag: No other coronavirus has had that kind of fatality, its either been much higher or much lower.
That picture behind me on the desk is me, Logan, Antoine and Aunt Kamesha. You might be wondering how two white good ole’ boys wound up with a black Aunt and a black brother. The easiest answer is to read Logan’s book, Four Seconds on the Clock. You can skip mine, it’s kinda embarrassing how stupid we were as college freshmen.
The whole building is owned by the Minotaurs, and we got this apartment as part of our signing bonus. There’s a bunch of floors, and each floor has four apartments plus a community space. Ever since we all moved in, we’ve tried to get together one night a week. Me, Logan, Antoine and his fiancé, Maia, Tree and Ralph Robles and his girlfriend/partner in crime and love/whatever else, Becca. We were supposed to get together tonight, but I don’t know if that’s allowed. I mean, we’re supposed to stay in, but I don’t know if that means stay in our own apartments or inside the building, or on our floor, or what. We’ve invited the new woman, Deanna, to join us. She’s got some corporate job, and seems nice. Cute, too. Yes, I notice cute women. I’m not quite blind.
Our apartment has a view of the Lake, and it’s pretty empty. Not that it’s usually crowded in March, but there aren’t any sail boats or tour boats out. You know this shit is serious when they close the casinos.
Antoine wants me and Logan to be his groomsmen at the wedding. Mister Jake is going to be his Best Man. I like Mister Jake, but he is a little weird. I mean, why does he have to use the same tea bag three straight days? He’s driving a 2001 Chevy that looks like crap, and doesn’t even subscribe to the newspaper. Woody does. That’s Woodrow Wilson, the famous football player from back in the day when Stoneport was a football school. He’s real forgetful, and Alejandro convinced him to move in with Mister Jake who needed Woody’s help to eat all the food and help with the chores. Actually, Mister Jake is taking care of Woody, and that’s OK. I think Woody, on some level, knows what’s going on. So, Woody subscribes to the paper and Mister Jake reads it. I think he’s just cheap, but he’s been very generous with Maia.
If the pandemic isn’t done in a week, it will be Logan’s turn to talk to you. I suggested we set it up so that people could send message to us during broadcasts. I think we’re gonna do that tomorrow.
Take care and stay healthy.