How do you define essential?
I am so glad that I do not live in Vermont.
In this time of social distancing, and stay-at-home orders, we all have been faced with tough adjustments. My pantry is unusually full, and every time I go to a store for minor restocking, there is an obligatory trip to the paper supply aisle to see if there are a few stray packages of toilet paper or paper towels. If anyone told me I would get excited about finding a multi-pack of mega rolls six months ago, I would have suggested a short trip to an asylum.
But, I really don’t know what I would have done if I had been told that I couldn’t take my son’s $100 bill from Christmas to the electronics department in Wal-Mart to buy a gaming headset, as is apparently happening in Vermont. Was that headset “essential”? Well, in my world, yes. My kid bought a brand new gaming system which was shipped to our house, and he needed the headset so he could talk with his friends — you know, keeping social distance!
Yes, I “get” it — Vermont is trying to reduce the number of people in a store. So, their logical solution is to order stores to reduce the amount of square feet available to customers to maintain social distancing, right? Also, let’s consider something else that happens to be available in the verboten electronics department — mobile phones and pay-as-you-go refill cards. Communication has universally been deemed “essential” hasn’t it?
While my own children are grown now, I empathize with the mothers of Vermont who are now house-bound with small children, and with only curbside or delivery options available for craft supplies. We won’t get into the issue of the virus living longest on cardboard, and adding extra hands to the transaction, right? Also, not a word about the fact that homemade cloth masks need to be made with cloth — you know, found in the craft or home departments, depending on how fancy one wants to be in that endeavor. Personally, I opted for sewing bed sheets.
I’ve taken to referring to my shopping trips as a pinball game, with the goal of keeping that magic six feet of separation around me. Yes, that has taken me through the generally deserted electronics department of my Wal-Mart, which exists between cleaning supplies and pharmacy, depending on my chosen route. If anyone would prevent me from getting scented wax melts as I breeze by the home section, there might be a homicide. Do not keep a woman trapped in a house with two men who have feet that smell like rotting cheese from getting her air freshening waxy stuff!
Simply counting people, limiting numbers at one time, and covering the floors with stickers 6 feet apart as a reminder should be helpful. Yes, I’ve seen a few people leave Wal-Mart with only “non-essential” items in their carts, but I wonder. Did they get those items just so they wouldn’t do what I just did yesterday — leave the store without purchasing anything because desired necessities were out of stock?
Bluntly, it’s insulting. Apparently there are politicians and medical professionals out there who think that the members of the public in some areas are incapable of making sensible decisions in their own lives. Vermont is a glaring example, but we have our own share of illogical thinking here in Pennsylvania. Companies that make and sell construction supplies are essential and remain open, while the companies that make use of those items are required to close — or file for a waiver. My husband can’t golf here, but his golf league theoretically could take its scheduled trip to Ohio, where golf courses are open. (They’re also open in New York, where they are presumably taking appropriate measures to maintain social distancing, like one-man golf carts, and staggered tee-offs throughout the courses.) Let’s be honest here folks — golf is the epitome of social distancing in sports, until you get to the 19th hole, which in these times is already closed.
We’re facing a totally new situation with this virus, but based on what we do know, it’s possible to keep people reasonably safe from exposure. The last thing we need to do is ignore mental health entirely, which is what seems to be happening at least anecdotally across the country. Much of what Vermont has deemed non-essential is definitely essential for maintaining sanity in a household full of people who were accustomed to spending far more time somewhere else.
For myself, I’m waiting for the inevitable here in Pennsylvania. Sooner or later our governor will have to wake up and realize that he can’t keep the construction industry and golf courses in neutral. It’s spring, and the storms we get each year are starting to rip structures apart, and down trees. Construction starts, and I get my spouse out the door to his office with thousands of square feet and a handful of co-workers. As for the golf? Give it a little time — the spouses of the home-bound golfers will start begging for the courses to open just to get some peace!
Photo by Bruno Kelzer on Unsplash
