Dear Diary
I saw the other day that a forward-thinking/opportunistic historian in the US is encouraging people to keep diaries over the coming weeks, noting daily life going on around them. Unfortunately I can’t find a link to it right now (I’ll add it if I find it). The suggestion was to use pen and paper if possible; I understand why but I’m going to use this blog to the same purpose, though I’m not sure how frequently I’ll post: unless anything dramatic happens it would be a bit samey day to day.
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There’s something of a ‘phony war’ feeling right now. I’m certain it doesn’t feel like that at the sharp end, but it does for me, in this house, in this street. No doubt that will end the moment it gets closer to home.
I am acutely conscious that we are in a privileged position. The house is large enough for three of us to bounce around in and, because I’m retired, I don’t have issues relating to work. Financially, we’re not immediately vulnerable as we have enough in the bank to tap into if it became necessary.
We haven’t stockpiled, but we do have sufficient, not least because we were quietly preparing for Brexit impacts on the supply chain. I don’t mean large-scale panic hoarding, just getting an extra tin of beans or soup with the weekly shop and putting them aside. I’m quite able to make my own bread and I have enough flour and yeast on hand to manage for a couple of weeks if there are supply problems with sliced bread at the local supermarket. I noticed on Thursday and Friday that stocks of bread flour and yeast were down to zero in two stores, so I guess lots of people have the same idea.
That all sounds like ‘I’m alright Jack’ but that’s not what I mean; it’s an acknowledgement rather than a boast. The virus is no respecter of privilege.
Speaking with neighbours, from the safe distance that we’re all ruefully keeping, everyone seems to feel the same. We have all seen the news from Italy and are well aware that the next period is going to be difficult. So far, everyone I’ve spoken to has been quite phlegmatic about it, though one or two have been fatalistic. This real world response is not the same as–and much more rational than–the online world.
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I mentioned Twitter in my last post, and I’ve since taken fairly ruthless action there. I’ve unfollowed, muted or blocked a significant number of accounts that are getting exciteable and unhelpful. This includes accounts that are still indulging in political point scoring or, in my view, actively seeking to undermine what the government (UK and Scotland) is trying to do.
The last needs some unpacking I think.
I am not an expert on any subject relevant to strategic responses to a widespread outbreak of a virus to which humans have no resistance. I have not the foggiest idea whether the government’s response is the ‘right’ one or not. But I’ve seen an awful lot of comment, some ‘expert’, most not, that looks to me like councils of perfection, questioning and whatabout-ing everything in the name of the hypothetical rather than the very real situation that people are, in good faith, trying to address. None of these, that I have seen at any rate, have seriously grappled with the notion that there might not be a ‘perfect’ response or, if there is, that it might only become clear in retrospect. I suspect that the UK/Scottish government response is as good and as bad as any other. And no, I don’t think Boris wants to cull the elderly and vulnerable
This isn’t helped by thoughtless headlines from journalists looking for the next Exclusive/Breaking/Latest story and publishing without, apparently, any thought for the consequences.
We are a free society and people are free to say and write what they want, just as I am free to invite them to STFU, but in any event I am under no obligation to read or listen to them. This is not the same as sticking my fingers in my ears and singing la-la-la-la, it’s about focusing on what I need to know so that my family, vulnerable relatives and I can stay as safe as is realistically feasible. The time for analysis and response will come, but it is not now.
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More personally: back in the days when I was running, it became second nature to monitor every twinge and ache in my body, assessing whether it was something that could be ignored and run through or something to take more seriously, Something of the same is happening now. I’m 60 with underlying hypertension, and have become acutely aware of every sneeze and snuffle, every vague feeling of discomfort that might be a headache, every cough.
I’ve always been sinusy, and all the symptoms I’ve experienced all of my adult life are now things to be interrogated for ulterior meaning. Am I tired and lethargic because I’m stuffed up and haven’t had enough sleep, or because I’m coming down with something?
Most especially, I’ve become aware of a constant, low-level anxiety. I’m trying to address that through relaxation techniques, but it never quite goes away.
In the meantime I have made a start on the new Hilary Mantel, I’ve been keeping up the 1970 music pages, and I’ve been watching TV online. Westworld is back tonight. Star Trek Picard has been patchy but steadily improving. Season 2 of Altered Carbon was stronger in the second half of its run. I’ve just discovered Devs, and have really enjoyed the first three episodes. For All Mankind series 1 was excellent.
And I have my own writing, which I’ve been neglecting and really ought to revive.
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