Read Online Barry Friedman - The Old Folks At Home: Warehouse Them or Leave Them on the Ice Floe by Barry Friedman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Barry Friedman
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I came upon a group of three residents. All grumbling. I could make out fragments of conversation: “…locked down.” Grumble, grumble. “…what do they think we are, children?” Grumble, grumble. “…quarantine the ones who are sick.” Grumble, grumble.
Farther down the hall I ran into another small group. All grumbling. I inched my way into the huddle, and one woman asked me what I thought.
“It’s probably for our protection,” I said, meekly.
They all stared at me. One woman bared her teeth. All false, of course.
I added, “So we won’t catch the disease.”
They turned their backs and walked away from me. Already I felt sick to my stomach—and not from any virus, nor or otherwise.
Obviously, I was a pariah. This being my first experience with lock-down, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be angry, although I wasn’t quite sure what I should be angry about.
On my way back to the elevator, I ran into Bob Harris one of the residents with whom I had been friendly.
Bob said, “What do you think of the shut down?” He appeared ready to pounce if I gave the wrong answer.
I said, “It’s really something, isn’t it.” How’s that for being non-committal?.
While I was waiting for the elevator, Chet came along.
I said, “A lot of people are upset about management’s decision to shut down.”
He shrugged. “We’re not doing it as punishment. It’s for their protection. Norvirus is highly contagious. We’re doing what we have to in order to keep it from spreading.”
“I see your point. They’re saying you should quarantine the people who are sick, and free up the rest.”
“The problem with that is some of the people may have been infected, but the symptoms haven’t appeared yet. They’re just as contagious as those who are symptomatic.”
“You have a point.” He was scoring lots of points. I felt like I was back on the debating team in college. My opponents were always able to convince me of their side of the argument. No surprise I was kicked off the team.
“What about the idea of a quarantine?”
He snorted. “How do you lock anybody in their apartment?. We’d be sued for false imprisonment.”
Another point. The score so far was Management 3, Me 0.
“Couldn’t they be put in isolation in the Care Center ?” I thought I’d had him checkmated.
Chet snorted. He did a lot of snorting. “First place, there’s no room in the Care Center . Even if there was, we’d need a corps of nurses and aides who had the know-how of isolation techniques.”
I was clearly no match for him. I was rapidly becoming an advocate for shutting down. Fortunately the elevator came before I could raise a banner in favor of management.
Until I reached my floor.
Bill Haney stood waiting for an elevator going down. He muttered, “This damn shut-down is a bunch of crap, isn’t it?”
“Great pun.”
“Huh?”
“ ‘Bunch of crap.’ Norvirus infection, right? Heh, heh.”
He scowled. “Look, it’s not funny. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
I didn’t know we were divided into teams. Bill was six-two and weighed in at 265 pounds.
“I’m on your side, “ I whimpered.
“Okay. That’s better.”
“Chet says it’s for our protection.”
“Yeah, like I need his protection. The little floozy.”
I was saved by the elevator again.
My head was spinning. Many residents felt that management had over-reacted. No one knew how many had been infected. If it was only one or two individuals, why shut down activities for the remaining 300? These folks had paid their big bucks for amenities and by God they were going to get them come hell or loose stools.
Since I didn’t know the correct answer—if there was one—I decided to stay out of the fight. I’d agree with whoever approached me on the subject. A real diplomat, no?
So I stayed in my apartment and tried to placate Harriet who couldn’t understand why she couldn’t get into the card room.
Chapter
Farther down the hall I ran into another small group. All grumbling. I inched my way into the huddle, and one woman asked me what I thought.
“It’s probably for our protection,” I said, meekly.
They all stared at me. One woman bared her teeth. All false, of course.
I added, “So we won’t catch the disease.”
They turned their backs and walked away from me. Already I felt sick to my stomach—and not from any virus, nor or otherwise.
Obviously, I was a pariah. This being my first experience with lock-down, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be angry, although I wasn’t quite sure what I should be angry about.
On my way back to the elevator, I ran into Bob Harris one of the residents with whom I had been friendly.
Bob said, “What do you think of the shut down?” He appeared ready to pounce if I gave the wrong answer.
I said, “It’s really something, isn’t it.” How’s that for being non-committal?.
While I was waiting for the elevator, Chet came along.
I said, “A lot of people are upset about management’s decision to shut down.”
He shrugged. “We’re not doing it as punishment. It’s for their protection. Norvirus is highly contagious. We’re doing what we have to in order to keep it from spreading.”
“I see your point. They’re saying you should quarantine the people who are sick, and free up the rest.”
“The problem with that is some of the people may have been infected, but the symptoms haven’t appeared yet. They’re just as contagious as those who are symptomatic.”
“You have a point.” He was scoring lots of points. I felt like I was back on the debating team in college. My opponents were always able to convince me of their side of the argument. No surprise I was kicked off the team.
“What about the idea of a quarantine?”
He snorted. “How do you lock anybody in their apartment?. We’d be sued for false imprisonment.”
Another point. The score so far was Management 3, Me 0.
“Couldn’t they be put in isolation in the Care Center ?” I thought I’d had him checkmated.
Chet snorted. He did a lot of snorting. “First place, there’s no room in the Care Center . Even if there was, we’d need a corps of nurses and aides who had the know-how of isolation techniques.”
I was clearly no match for him. I was rapidly becoming an advocate for shutting down. Fortunately the elevator came before I could raise a banner in favor of management.
Until I reached my floor.
Bill Haney stood waiting for an elevator going down. He muttered, “This damn shut-down is a bunch of crap, isn’t it?”
“Great pun.”
“Huh?”
“ ‘Bunch of crap.’ Norvirus infection, right? Heh, heh.”
He scowled. “Look, it’s not funny. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
I didn’t know we were divided into teams. Bill was six-two and weighed in at 265 pounds.
“I’m on your side, “ I whimpered.
“Okay. That’s better.”
“Chet says it’s for our protection.”
“Yeah, like I need his protection. The little floozy.”
I was saved by the elevator again.
My head was spinning. Many residents felt that management had over-reacted. No one knew how many had been infected. If it was only one or two individuals, why shut down activities for the remaining 300? These folks had paid their big bucks for amenities and by God they were going to get them come hell or loose stools.
Since I didn’t know the correct answer—if there was one—I decided to stay out of the fight. I’d agree with whoever approached me on the subject. A real diplomat, no?
So I stayed in my apartment and tried to placate Harriet who couldn’t understand why she couldn’t get into the card room.
Chapter
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