Journal of the Virus Year, Entry 2

I went out today for curbside delivery at HEB. Civilized, though my assistant forgot to speak through the passenger window instead of the driver’s. He did sign for me, though. We’re not low on anything, though I’m making due with only the occasional Coke Zero.

My younger son needs a minor operation for his hearing. This was determined just prior to the lockdown. He’s not getting it anytime soon, obviously. H and I are upset about this, but he and L are happy as clams otherwise.

My graduate students are holding in there. Almost all of them in my stylistics class are sticking with it. I also have two students defending their master’s theses in the next two weeks.

UHD is also hanging in there. We’re going to try a Zoom version of Faculty Senate on Tuesday.

I have lost a lot of writing time. Both my conferences this year, in April and May, have been cancelled, which removes some drafting (alas, I had already written two of the three presentations), but even with that, completing the references in my book keeps getting pushed back. I need to hold the line at May 1 or my summer courses will obliterate my chances.

Our Fearless Leader is about to pass an important milestone. The virus is about to kill more Americans than 9/11. If only he were competent, or able to hire and retain competent subordinates, or even capable of communicating a clear plan by qualified experts about this mess two months ago… but he’s not. He never was. Still pleased with your choice, Trump voters? Are those Supreme Court picks and tax cuts still worth it?

Journal of the Virus Year, Entry 1

Well, shit. The world went to hell damn quick, didn’t it?

I stocked the house pretty well around the end of February. The rush on groceries didn’t begin proper until Friday the 13th of March – apropos. That afternoon, our Fearless Leader declared a state of emergency that was apparent weeks ago, and then everyone who hadn’t been paying attention suddenly decided they didn’t have enough toilet paper for the apocalypse.

I went out anyway that night to the local HEB but they closed early at 8pm. Went to Kroger instead. The basics were gone – paper products, wipes, bread, meat, canned veggies. Some diapers and miscellaneous that might be tough to get later I went ahead and picked up. I could have filled my cart with cake and wine, though.

UHD has gone fully online, like every other university since Seattle. I mostly teach online, so that’s not a big adjustment for me, but it is for others. Also, it’s going to sidetrack Faculty Senate for awhile as much of that happens in person, but I’m working on it, in my new half-day professor, half-day daycare for two kids schedule that I’m dividing up with H.

Big changes are coming for higher education during and after the end of this global crisis, and it’s not just more online courses. A full-blown recession is here. The loss of confidence is not going to lift for a good long time. This means better enrollment for UHD, with millions of suddenly unemployed service workers flocking to degrees for lack of a better option. Though, they will need to take on an unprecedented amount of debt to do so.

Our Fearless Leader doesn’t have the vision or will or ethical foresight to make a New Deal for 2020… so I don’t know. There’s too much in the wind to make predictions other than our now-obvious weakness to a pandemic is going to make ideas that seemed crazy just a month ago rather appealing. A service economy without a reasonable health care system is no longer sustainable.

I suggested to a few folks the other week that the coronavirus selected Biden as the Democratic nominee – he’s the tribal pick, the old seemingly wise male who folks rush to when the storm god gets too angry. Now, as a two-time Sanders primary voter, I am more partial to the cantankerous shamans, Warren among them, touting universal health care and anti-corporate policies. It is ironic that if those ideas had been enacted when Sanders first started advocating for them decades ago, they would have put America in a far better position to combat a pandemic. Now we’re helpless in the face of fools who think a virus checks your voter registration before it kills you, or worse, that anyone not wiping their nose on their neighbor isn’t a real Texan.

Maybe the surge in enrollment will produce a generation more aware of the fragility of life. I’m not optimistic.