Coronavirus and the Duke

As you know from my recent post, I am concerned about the growing coronavirus pandemic.  I feel awful, of course, for the people who fall, or lose loved ones, to the disease, and I sympathize with those whose lives are negatively impacted by the restrictions imposed in attempts to control the virus’s spread.

And, as is usually the case with my family, when the going gets tough, we make jokes about it.

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Don’t take me wrong; I do take the pandemic seriously.  After all, according to the statistics I’ve seen, because of my medical condition, I am at an increased risk of dying if I do contract the coronavirus.  

But there’s only so much one can do to prepare.  And I see no need to give up my sense of humor.

As an older gentleman told me once when our family was going through a particularly tough time, “You might as well laugh, son; cryin’ don’t do no good.”

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A few days ago Scotty, Bobby, and I were texting about the latest COVID-19 news and, of course, the shortages came up.

I take it that most people, especially in the city, normally shop on a week-by-week basis.  I mean, if you only drink a gallon of milk each week, there’s no sense in buying ten gallons, but other, non-perishable items can be bought with an eye toward the future.  Just because you only use one roll of paper towels each week doesn’t mean you should only buy one roll at a time.

After all, what happens if your roll is almost gone and you spill that gallon of milk?

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Some things are cheaper in bulk and, if you have enough room to store them and they are things you’ll need eventually, why not stock up?  Now, I’m not talking about buying ten-years-worth of instant coffee.  I don’t care how much you need your caffeine fix every day, why give up a big chunk of one room so that you can stock up?

Of course, you could come up with novel ways to store stuff, like the guy who bought a couple cases of dried beans.  He covered them with a cloth and used that as a coffee table.  Some of his friends did notice the odd piece of furniture, especially when one of the bags burst open inside the box and it got infested with weevils.  The little beetles started crawling out across the floor one night when he and his date were sitting on the couch watching TV.

His lady-friend leaped up, squealing and dancing around the room.  He tried to salvage the date by pointing out that the bugs were not from one of the bigger species, but just a smaller variety.  It didn’t help. 

I guess she had never heard of the lesser of two weevils.

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Then again, even non-perishables should be purchased with caution.  Last week I read about a woman.  She found that, online, she could buy a case containing 48 rolls of toilet paper for a significant savings over purchasing the same number at Wal-Mart, four rolls at a time.  Thinking ahead at a possible quarantine for the coronavirus, she ordered 48 rolls, planning to store them in an extra closet.

Well, she thought she was ordering 48 rolls.  About a week later a truck pulled up in front of her house to deliver her 48 cases of TP.  Yup, instead of ordering enough to last her family a few weeks, she is now the proud owner of a 12-year supply of toilet paper.

After a little thought, she said, “Well, at least the neighbors should be OK if we get quarantined.”

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The U.S. military has placed a travel limit on all troops.  They are forbidden to travel more than 100 miles unless sent on a mission, or in case of emergency. 

My soldier-son, Bobby, told us he had gone to an area CVS to pick up some toilet paper for a few of his troops who hadn’t planned ahead and were in need.

You might say, they were going to be in deep doo doo if they didn’t get some TP…and soon.

Entering the store, he witnessed a disagreement between a woman and man.  She was demanding that he give up the toilet paper he had in his cart.

The woman was making a spectacle, berating the poor, elderly man.  He stood quietly, trying to hide his embarrassment as she ranted.

The disagreement was ended by a big bull of a man who walked up.  The retired first sergeant was accustomed to having his orders obeyed without question.  He commanded that the woman leave the elderly gentleman alone, which she did.

As the older gentleman walked past, Bobby saw that the man had, not toilet paper, but a couple rolls of paper towels in his cart.

I guess a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.  Or, should I say, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, when a man’s gotta doo doo.

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I read a post last week on one person’s facebook page.  He announced that he had plenty of toilet paper stored up and was willing to sell it for $1 per sheet. 

Ah, the free market system at work.

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Back to my son’s story.

Bobby told me the store had been almost completely sold out of necessary paper, and had been reduced to selling toilet paper, priced at almost $2.00 a roll.  He explained, “They had already sold out of all the cheap stuff.”

I interjected, “What?  They were out of John Wayne toilet paper?”

“John Wayne toilet paper?” he asked.  “What’s that?”

“Yeah, it’s just like John Wayne.  You know, rough, tough, and don’t take no crap off nobody.”

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Like I said, “Cryin’ don’t do no good.”

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