The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

My neighbors down here on the South End are already talking about closing down the borders to keep this coronavirus where it belongs, up north where folks can afford quality health care. I guess they figure we can barely pay for hepa masks, much less a stay in a quarantine cell for fourteen days, assuming we live that long. Panic is breaking out from Elger Bay to the Head. You’d think the threat was nuclear annihilation judging by the chatter over the fences, time to build the equivalent of fallout shelters.

They’re talking checkpoints, border patrols, beach surveillance, possibly a Wall. Every little cough sends them into hair tearing hysteria. Some of the parents refuse to send their toddlers to school and even the Little Church in the Ravine is considering closing its sanctuary for Sunday services, so much for their faith sparing them the wrath of their God. Little Jimmy suggested we all stop getting newspapers, not to reduce the reporting of new flu breakouts in Stanwoodopolis and beyond, but to prevent the delivery guy from becoming our Typhoid Mary. Two Toke sarcastically asked if the mail should be stopped as well and was surprised when the mob cried Of Course! Janet, the newcomer across the highway from us, timidly asked if Amazon Prime deliveries would be curtailed as well. Trust me, not even Ebola would convince the neighbors to stop same day delivery of the treasures they ordered yesterday. And even if they did, you know Amazon would drop them by drone.

The stock market is crashing, countries are closing their borders, cruise ships are anchored offshore with vacationers held prisoner in their petri dishes, the President put his second in command in charge of the Outbreak, the military is canceling war games with South Korea, hospitals are practicing quarantine drills, a school nearby shuttered its doors when a staff member exhibited flu-like symptoms and the news has dropped its primary election mania to keep us fearful citizens constantly updated with fresh death counts.

These are dire times. Precautions must be taken. Borders need to be secured. This could very well be the final message leaving the Black Hole of the South End. We have to protect ourselves. Good luck to the rest of you.

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