COVID in Memphis – Memphis Flyer

“We handled it really well for many weeks, even through Phase 1. Then it’s almost like a light switch went off and we stopped taking it seriously.” That was Memphis Mayor Jim Strickland earlier this week, talking about the recent rise in local COVID-19 cases during Phase 2.

Similarly, Shelby County Mayor Lee Harris expressed concern that a move back to Phase 1 could happen if infection rates continued to rise. Harris added that he thought it could be avoided “if everyone will do their part.” That would include abiding by the city’s reinvigorated “Mask Up” program and rigorously maintaining Phase 2 regulations.

Memphis and Shelby County aren’t doing badly in the grand scheme of things, but things could get out of hand quickly. We need to wear our masks in public spaces, no exceptions, even in our red suburbs. And it’s worth noting that the average age of those testing positive in Shelby County is skewing younger: A sample of one week in April, May, and June revealed an average age of COVID-infected persons at 58, 43, and 40 respectively, according to information released earlier this week.

The examples set by other states and cities that have dealt with this health crisis on a much more devastating scale have made clear that there are no shortcuts to beating this disease. So why do so many Americans still not believe in medical science? Why are so many Americans still ignoring precautions, refusing to wear a mask, refusing to pay attention to social distancing?

The answer is pretty obvious. They believe the president of the United States, who has downplayed this health crisis from its inception. He’s said it would just … go away. He refuses to wear a mask or encourage others to do so. He’s said we’re testing more than any country on Earth. (Per capita? Not even close.) In fact, under Trump’s failed “leadership,” the United States is now the world’s epicenter for the disease. His oft-stated plan for reducing the infection level is to not to test so many people: “If we didn’t test so much, we wouldn’t have so many cases.” Genius. Does that work with pregnancy tests, as well?

What kind of idiot thinks this way? During the greatest global health crisis of our lives, the only real question is whether the American president is evil or stupid.

Even worse, leaders of the Republican Party have tied themselves to Trump’s moronic policies, apparently believing that he retains some sort of political magic that may possibly even extend to the curing of a disease? Why else would they still fear him and follow his lead, rather than heed the advice of countless infectious disease experts here and around the globe? Trump’s magical thinking has infected almost the entire Republican Party. Even local Trump sycophant, Congressman David Kustoff, was tweeting gushing praise of the Fearless Leader at Trump’s flaccid Tulsa rally. What do these people use for backbones? Or brains?

Blind faith in Trump — or fear of him — is why the rate of COVID-19 infections in the red states of Florida, Alabama, Texas, Arizona, and South Carolina is skyrocketing. The GOP governors of those states have dutifully followed the president’s lead: Masks are for sissies; virus fears are overblown; open the economy as fast as possible.

How has this strategy worked? Not so great. In a press conference on Monday, Texas Governor Greg Abbott said that recent spikes in COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations were “unacceptable … and must be corralled.” Yeehaw. Texas is now averaging 3,500 new cases a day, more than double the average from a month ago.

Unfortunately, Governor Abbott doesn’t intend to actually do anything other than “encourage” better behavior. He offered no plans to scale back business activities or reduce public gatherings. And, of course, he wasn’t wearing a mask during the press conference.

Meanwhile in Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis was saying, “Hold my beer!”

Not really. But in the face of rapidly rising hospitalizations, DeSantis did ask that only patients in ICU who were getting “intensive care” be counted as actual COVID patients. He is apparently unclear on the meaning of “IC.”

Like Abbott, DeSantis shows no sign of retreating from his “keep the state open for business” position, even though, as in Texas, Florida’s cases are rising to new highs almost every day — and even though Florida is home to millions of senior citizens. (Not that being young is much of a protection: In Orlando, 152 cases were just linked to a bar near the campus of Central Florida University.) Hint: That’s gonna hurt business, Ron.

Trump’s magical thinking and his clownish routines about ramp-walking and water-drinking have become the subject of much well-deserved ridicule. But the truth is, none of this is funny anymore.

Humans have worn masks for almost as long as they’ve had faces. Early cultures all over the world used ceremonial masks for religious rites, celebrations of marriage, childbirth, coming of age — and death rituals. Throughout history, humans have worn masks for protection, disguise, performance, entertainment, even sex.

More than 3,500 years ago, the Chinese were using masks in healing ceremonies. African cultures have long utilized elaborate carved masks. As early as the fifth century B.C., the ancient Greeks began incorporating masks into theater productions — sad masks for tragedy, smiling masks for comedy or satire.

In Europe during the Renaissance, fashionable masks worn at balls and parties attended by nobility and royalty became de rigueur. The use of masks then spread to become a staple of theater and ballet productions.

Masks have also long been a trope in literature throughout the centuries. Think The Phantom of the Opera, The Man in the Iron Mask, The Mark of Zorro. And subsequently, of course, in film and television: Friday the 13th, Halloween, The Lone Ranger, Batman, Spider-Man, countless other Marvel characters, even Star Wars. Masks have been worn by villains and bandits and pirates — and by many a hero, usually working incognito to save mankind. Or Gotham City.

Now, masks are everywhere you look. We’re all characters in a crappy new worldwide release called COVID-19: Revenge of the Super Virus. You can tell the heroes in this flick; they wear masks. Many of them work in hospitals. Others spend their days making sure the rest of us ordinary citizens can get food and medicine and mail — and their packages delivered. Others work in warehouses and factories, making and shipping our food and other essential goods. Others keep our streets and homes safe.

Most people are showing their support for the heroes by wearing masks — not just in sympathy, but in the knowledge that if more of us wear masks, fewer of us will get the plague, and the sooner all of us can show our faces again.

There aren’t really many villains in this flick, but there are plenty of fools. Like Ohio Republican state Representative Nino Vitale, who says he won’t wear a mask because he was made in God’s image and it would be a sin to cover his visage, since, well, he looks like God. Other folks don’t think we need to wear masks because they believe this whole COVID-19 thing is overblown, no worse than the flu. Time to get back to business.

And so we are doing just that, with many states, including Tennessee, allowing most businesses to open with restrictions. It’s worth noting that most of these states are ignoring the guidelines President Trump himself issued that would indicate when they could safely reopen: 14 days of declining numbers of coronavirus cases and deaths. That metric has only been achieved in a few states, including New York and New Jersey, where the pandemic was at its worst but now has been turned. Most states in the country are still seeing rises in case numbers and deaths.

No matter. The new plan appears to be to go back to the pre-COVID routine as soon as possible, to get people back to work and off unemployment, and to get the economy restarted. What is mostly left unsaid is that we’re going to accept as the cost of doing business a prolonged excess of mortality among our citizens, particularly older Americans and those with underlying health conditions. Those deaths are simply the investment we’re willing to make, and we’re hoping for a robust ROI.

In the process, we’re also creating more working-class heroes, whether they want to be one or not. Y’all mask up and get to work. Meemaw needs her Cracker Barrel. Daddy needs an oil change. Preacher needs his collection plate filled up.

I truly hope it works, but the prospects are not great. The only measures that have slowed the virus anywhere around the globe are staying home, social distancing, wearing masks, and massive testing. As of this writing, 70,000 Americans have died of COVID; the latest projections have 135,000 of us dying by August 1st. And we’re easing restrictions.

The U.S. is the world’s poster child for how not to handle a pandemic. We now have one-third of the world’s cases — and that percentage is rising. Using the president’s logic, Americans should be banned from international travel by most countries, since the U.S. is now the primary incubator/generator of coronavirus.

South Korea and the U.S. both had their first COVID death on the same day in February. South Korea has had 254 deaths in the 75 days since. That’s because the S.K. government took aggressive and preemptive action, testing thousands of people a day early on and enforcing strict stay-at-home orders. Conversely, in February, the U.S. president denied it was a problem, said it would go away, said it was a hoax, said it was overblown, ignored the science. He was wrong on every count.

And I hope I’m wrong in thinking we’re reopening the economy too soon, but many experts say we’re risking a resurgence that could stretch this thing out for months, and could, at worst, provoke another round of closings and more economic distress. The American strategy goes against what every other country in the world has done that has managed to get COVID under control. But maybe we’ll get lucky. I truly hope so. I’m ready for a print Flyer every week — and a margarita with friends on a crowded patio. And hanging with my family. And visiting my mother in her assisted living facility. Can’t happen soon enough.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a great collection of masks — paper ones for quick trips to the gas station; a nice African-cloth model for Walgreens and the grocery store; and a snazzy black number with a ventilator for formal occasions. I hope someday soon they’ll just be souvenirs of this horrible time.

But I’m not holding my breath. Just covering it for a while longer.