You know the kid. He tells you that he is not three years old anymore; he tells you with pride that he is three and a half. It is likely that we did the same thing back when. At some point, we became irritated when the folks behind the bar asked to see our ID, especially if we were not of age, like college age. Later we bragged about being carded at the local watering hole or fancy restaurant – “I’m 32 and they made me show my ID. Can you imagine that?” Pride has many faces.
When I reached 55 years of age, AARP sent me my first invitation to join their efforts to ply for “seniors.” The invitations came almost weekly for some years. They really wanted me to buy their insurance. Now they send the invitations to people as early as 50 years. Can you believe it? They were calling a 55-year-old a “senior.” No way man! I still had a bounce. Seniors were people over 65 years old, weren’t they? You knew about them but they weren’t in your pod. Despite the continuous denial, the discounts were too enticing. Why not take the senior-discount? Ten percent is ten percent.
Being a little older, just a little mind you, paid off last month. We got our first covid shot, and then the second. Age has its rewards! So now, we can be friendly closer because many other friends have had their two shots too. However, what of those who don’t have the shots yet?
President Trump initiated Operation Warp Speed, which urged pharmaceutical companies to develop vaccines to squelch the covid-19 pandemic. That effort, in spite of fits and starts, resulted in new vaccines produced with relatively new science in record time, not years, but months. Scientists produced not one, but three vaccines to help the world eradicate the scourge. More are on the way. Pundits tell us that the new process for inventing vaccines may go down as the most important scientific effort of the last 100 years. We need to vaccinate 80% of the people in the US and billions across the world. Imagine how that would change the world.
Yet … I don’t get it, but nearly 50% of Trump supporters say they will refuse to take the vaccine when it is available to them. Are they crazy? Are they listening to the unhinged talk-radio folks again? One interviewee said she would not trust a vaccine designed by Biden. Come on lady, the vaccine was designed on Trump’s watch, tested on Trump’s watch, and initial plans for distribution developed on Trump’s watch. It isn’t Biden’s vaccine anyway is it? He didn’t make it. His administration didn’t test it or approve it. They are simply trying to get into people’s arms.
Age gives perspective. We remember what it was like before the measles vaccine. Public Health taped big red or orange “Quarantine” signs to the front door of the house. We remember life before the Salk vaccine for polio: friends, and relatives in iron lungs, legs crippled forever, lungs damaged forever. If the US doesn’t vaccinate enough people, it will not achieve herd immunity and the virus will be with us for years. Much like WWII, Uncle Sam needs you. He needs you to get vaccinated. He needs you to get it for your neighbor’s sake, for the nation’s sake.
Age has its downsides, but hanging out for a while convinces us that a deadly virus couldn’t care less about our political bent, our religious beliefs, our age, our race, our ethnicity, or sexual or gender preference. It attacks all who come in its path. In addition, it can kill you. Beach life during spring break is sure to be a super-spreader. Ballparks opening too soon will kill people needlessly. Age forces you to ask why people and their leaders blatantly disregard basic public health strategies. Ah, what the hell, only 534,000 people have died from the virus. That is only 15% above the normal annual death rate. Can’t be all bad! Off we go, no mask, no social distancing, and no vaccines.
Age has its rewards, but sometimes the things you see happening around you make it seem more like a penalty. After a year of sheltering in place, you can feel like you lost a year, missed friends for too long, missed visiting other places for too long a stretch. However, it also reminds you that all things end, and we will remember 2020-2021 as “those years.”
By the way, I'm not 81, I'm 81 and eleven and a half months.
