Adventures In Shopping, Part II

My wife and I ventured out for supplies.  We visited a few different places, all the while, masked and gloved.  Whilst we were out, I took some pictures of what life is like out there now during quarantine.  We started by filling up our tank at BJs.  Both the gas station attendant and I were masked and gloved.  We dropped off some books that we were getting rid of at the Better World Books bin next to the Regal Theater in Vineland and, in an empty parking lot, I took a picture of the marquee.

The marque reads, “CLOSED FOR NOW – STAY TUNED”, with the “Y” in ‘stay’ hanging askew.  It will be interesting to see how theaters, which were struggling before the appearance of COVID-19, will fare in the new normal on the other side of this. 

Our journey of re-supplying then took us to Taco Bell, which is drive through or delivery only now.  We chose Taco Bell because, to date, they are the chain who has best adapted to life in quarantine. 

They take your order, you drive up to the window, the gloved and masked server holds out the debit card reader, the customer inserts or swipes their card so no there is no physical contact with Taco Bell and the customer at all.  The card reader goes away, and the Taco Bell employee returns with your order inside a plastic receptacle—plastic box—drink holder, which the customer grabs, and takes away.  This is the most efficient, sanitary method of delivery that I have seen put in play in the world of drive-through cuisine.  It beats Wendy’s & McDonald's gloved hands down.  We made certain to thank the Taco Bell worker for being there.

After chowing down on our Taco Bell in a parking lot, we headed over to Aldi.  There was a line of people waiting to get into the store that stretched down the side of the building.

“I don’t know, should we just go to Shoprite?” I asked my wife.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Should we be taking pictures of people?  Someone’s going to kick your ass.”

“No, they’re not,” I said. “They’d have to get out of line.”

As it turns out, that ALDI line was the line that we got into next.

Going into the store, ALDI does all they can to reduce transmission of COVID-19.  There is a masked and gloved employee up front who asks you if you need a cart or not.  If you do then, with Lysol, she wipes down the handle and the two plastic flaps that are designed for baby’s butts and rolls it towards you for use.  The employee then counts who enters and who leaves, thus balancing the number of people who are in the store at one time. 

After our trip to ALDI, we had a few items that we needed so we visited our Shoprite.  My wife went after the list and I waited in a small, socially distanced line (6-feet away between customers) for my turn and when it was my turn, I asked to purchase two lottery tickets, which I did so with quarters left from laundry day.  One could make a compelling argument that I am throwing good quarters away by playing the lottery.  That it is a hidden tax and that the odds are astronomically against winning.  One would be correct on all these points.  I cannot argue one of them.  My only defense against such points is to offer up Doctor Schrödinger and his cat.  COVID-19 has changed the lottery, as well.  The Powerball has cut its payout in half, since not as many people are playing these days.  There are more important matters at hand.  Yet, there I was.  It’s more like Schrödinger’s lottery.

“Thank you for being here.” I told the lady behind the counter.  We have seen each other before, but we have never been properly introduced, so we don’t know each other’s names.  We know each other because we are part of the same community, whether we are in a pandemic or not.  “You are holding together ‘normalcy’, whatever that was.” I said.

She smiled and asked, “How are you doing during all this?”

“Oh, fine, I suppose.  How about you?”

“Well…I miss my family.” She said.  Immediately, I felt horrible for asking the question.  At least in some way work is a respite for this woman for the simple reason she is busy helping others and keeping everything afloat.  She’s so busy at it that she has time to not think about the family that she can’t see due to the self-quarantine rules.  She looked away, suddenly reminded.  I am an ass.

“Much love.” I said to her putting my hands together and bowing—hoping against hope that she gets that chance to see her family soon.  “…Thank you.” 

Thank you, indeed.  If it weren’t for her and people like her—like all of the people that we had social distanced, gloved, and masked contact with today—everything shuts down.  Seriously.  Essential workers have been carrying the early birth-pangs of whatever the new normal is going to look like on their shoulders while trying to maintain what the old normal was.  They put everything on the line to keep things moving forward.  We owe a debt to the essential worker.  They have kept the world going just by showing up to work.  Spoilers—they always have, even without the threat of COVID-19. 

There will be changes ahead.  Major changes.  Sweeping social and economic ones and that’s okay.  Change is how progress is made.  I hope that on the other side of this once the quarantine is lifted and the vaccination is discovered that the reconciliation between the old world—what was and the new world—what it will be, is more enlightened.  There is historical evidence to suggest that this may be the case.  After the black plague came the renaissance—200 plus years of reason, science, thinking, art, and creativity that ushered in the modern era.  After COVID-19?  We are due for an age of enlightenment.  An age where essential workers make a fair wage, where healthcare is no longer a business, where scientists and experts are heeded, where reason is tempered with kindness, where hope for a better tomorrow is feasible for ALL regardless of circumstance, where we shift our priorities from ourselves to others.  Can you imagine such a future?  A future that we would be proud to hand over to our children.  What a future this New Renaissance would be.  I hope I live to see it all come to pass.    

Until such time, stay home, stay safe, stay healthy. 

The curve is flattening so keep on keeping on.   

Let's Talk About Essential Employees

This morning, at 11:16 am, pandemic time, the power went off.  It is a windy, grey, rainy day and I’m hoping that it is only a felled tree.  The sirens that we are hearing whisper of other possibilities.  I pray that is not the case.  I can imagine the complications that such an emergency provides now with all first responders having to wear gloves and masks—if not full bodies Tyvek suits.  You don’t know what the person in the wrecked vehicle has and you don’t know what you may be passing to them.  Just as the pandemic has changed the rest of the sociological strata—our old ‘normal’—so it has changed, I imagine, how first responders go about their work of saving lives. 

Essential workers of any kind—are precisely that—essential.  I’m saying right here and right now $15.00 an hour for minimum wage needs to happen.  Also, the title, “Minimum Wage” should be changed to “Essential Salary”.  The person flipping burgers and serving us at the drive through is putting their life on the line doing so.  Here in NJ, the person pumping your gas is doing the same.  The cashier at the grocery store—yes, her too.  ALL of them deserve medals.  All of them deserve a livable wage.  When this is over there will be a concerted effort to forget that these days happened.  These ESSENTIAL EMPLOYEES should not be forgotten.

“How would we pay for all these people getting a living wage?”

How can’t we, after this globally shared experience.  These essential workers put everything—their safety, their family’s safety—all of it, on the line every day just by showing up to work.  I’ll go further, if it were not for these essential employees showing up society itself would collapse.  If you think a toilet paper shortage is bad, consider grocery stores being boarded up and closed.  Suddenly, the comforts that we take for granted, we can’t take for granted anymore.  $15.00 an hour is the right thing to do.  

But, not to ignore your original question, hypothetical questioner, how about this.  I work in a cube farm, in a rented floor, in a rented building.  That building requires electricity, water, heat, and upkeep.  That’s a LOT of money going out and for what—a mailing address?  A post office box could accomplish the same for a pittance of the price it takes to keep the lights on in my building.  This quarantine has illustrated that, in all actuality, half of the workforce across the nation could work from home and accomplish the same amount of work.  For both public and private organizations, in the new world order, this is a money saving, viable option.  Suddenly, you are not paying rent, electricity, water, sewer, heat, cooling, and upkeep.  Suddenly, you’re saving money just by having your people work at home.  Suddenly, you have enough to pay essential employees serving their communities $15.00 an hour.

You’re welcome, America. 

Speaking of essential employees and medals—I’m predicting that TIME Magazine’s Person of the Year will be Essential Employees.  It has to be.  The doctors, the nurses, the EMTs, the linemen (who are mobilizing right now to get our electricity up and running again. …I’m running on my laptop battery for this section of the journal), the cashiers, the fire responders, police, truck drivers, people who stock shelves—ALL of them.  They deserve that title, Person of the Year. 

So, @TIME Magazine, what do you say? 

It’s 12:15 and the power just came on.  Thank you, linemen from Atlantic City Electric.  You are essential, not only for electricity but for a functioning version of whatever, ‘normal’ used to be.  You and a host of other essential employees at this unique moment in our history are doing what you do, what you’ve always done—holding everything together.

Thank you.

 

Adventures in Shopping, Part I

The following is my 3/25/20, entry in my COVID-19 journal.  I’ve been keeping it since the beginning.  I thought that this one was fit for human consumption…

3/25/20

Dan and I went out to Shoprite to replenish some supplies.  Dan wore a Pokémon bandana as a facemask.  It was not out of fashion; nearly half of the other shoppers were wearing masks of some sort.  There were plenty of latex gloves in use, too.  Shoprite has remained a beacon of hope in the community.  Seriously.  All the grocery and convenience stores that have stayed open and continue to operate are.  After all, if the stores are open then things can’t be all bad—right?  Right. 

Shoprite has made some changes.  There are signs that say to maintain 6 feet distance in the front of the store.  They have changed their hours to 7:00 am – 9:00 pm.  Disinfectant is being used by cashiers and, the young lady who checked us out spray cleaned the conveyor belt and was wiping it down as she beckoned us into her lane.  There are plexiglass barriers between the cashier and customer now.  It is that way for all points of purchase—except for self-checkout.

“Did you find everything you were after?” she asked.

“More or less, I’d say.” I said, looking at the newly installed force fields.  “These are a good idea.” I said.

“Yes, although maybe they could be a little bigger.” She replied.  I took a look and, yes, she’s right, maybe they could.  They were erected at the place where the customer is closest to the cashier and not at the card-pad.  “How have you been making out in all this?” she asked us.

“Oh, we’ve been okay. How about you?”

“I’m the one who does the shopping for my grandmother and me.” She said. “I get home, see to things, and then go get what she needs—if we don’t have it already.”

“That’s very good of you.” I said.  She’s a good kid, doing the best she can presented with the circumstances as they are.

“I’ve seen some things here,” she stated. “I had a woman throw chicken at me.”

“That’s horrible!” Dan exclaimed.

“Yeah. I told her that Shoprite had a “one package per person” limit on certain items—including chicken.  She got so mad that she threw it at me.”

“Times like these bring out the best and the worst in people.” I said.  “That’s assault.”

“That’s true.  It’s why there are security guards roaming the store now.”

“Really?” Dan asked.

“Oh, yeah.” She said.

“They must be good,” I volunteered, “I never even saw them.”  For some reason or another, I was thinking that stealth may be beneficial at times as a member of a peacekeeping security force.  …And then it hit me how much things have changed in such a short amount of time.  Two weeks ago, these factors—the 6-foot rule, the masks, the barriers, the security guards—all of it, was to be found in science fiction and not in the ‘real world’, whatever that is.  It hit me that this was the new normal and would be for some time. 

We bid each other the best and went on our way.  She’s a good kid and, most certainly, deserves better than being attacked by a panic-stricken woman who can’t have two trays of chicken because there are other people in the world besides her.

“Thank you for all that you’re doing.” Dan said as we took our leave from her. “Stay safe.”

“You, too.” She said as we left.

So, young lady who checked us out at Shoprite this morning, thank you.  And, once again, to all the workers who are serving their communities at this time, THANK YOU.  You are not and never have been, “just a cashier”, you are a reminder of the normal that was and may be again.  You are hope and there is no price tag on that. 

To my fellow customers, remember, you/we are not the only ships out on the ocean.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and we can get there together—in one piece—if we think of others as we are thinking (and shopping) for ourselves. 

Let’s be good to each other out there.  A little kindness, some reason, and social distancing will help us through to the other side of this pandemic.    

So, thank you to the common everyday people who have been deemed essential—the woman who checks you out at the grocery or convenience store, the medical staff—the nurses and doctors doing everything they can to keep people healthy, EMS workers, the people keeping the electricity going—the linemen and everyone else who stands behind them keeping the juice flowing, the fire and police, the garbage collectors, all the people that we don’t see and take for granted for the mere fact that we don’t see them.  Everyday life is ‘normal’ because of what they do.  “Normal” is a relative term, these days.  Each of those listed here have become heroes just by showing up to work.  Society works because they do.  There is NOTHING common about the common man, there never has been.

Your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Thank you, one and all.

Stay safe, stay healthy.

Confirmation Bias

There is an excellent book review about confirmation bias from the New York Times by Michiko Kakutani concerning Tom Nichols and his book, “The Death of Expertise” (https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/21/books/the-death-of-expertise-explores-how-ignorance-became-a-virtue.html)  The review is entitled, “’The Death of Expertise’ How Ignorance Became A Virtue”.  From the review…

“While the internet has allowed more people more access to more information than ever before, it has also given them the illusion of knowledge when in fact they are drowning in data and cherry-picking what they choose to read. Given an inexhaustible buffet of facts, rumors, lies, serious analysis, crackpot speculation and outright propaganda to browse online, it becomes easy for one to succumb to “confirmation bias” — the tendency, as Nichols puts it, “to look for information that only confirms what we believe, to accept facts that only strengthen our preferred explanations, and to dismiss data that challenge what we accept as truth.”

Citizens of all political persuasions (not to mention members of the Trump administration) can increasingly live in their own news media bubbles, consuming only views similar to their own. When confronted with hard evidence that they are wrong, many will simply double down on their original assertions. “This is the ‘backfire effect,’” Nichols writes, “in which people redouble their efforts to keep their own internal narrative consistent, no matter how clear the indications that they’re wrong.” As a result, extreme views are amplified online, just as fake news and propaganda easily go viral.

Today, all these factors have combined to create a maelstrom of unreason that’s not just killing respect for expertise, but also undermining institutions, thwarting rational debate and spreading an epidemic of misinformation. These developments, in turn, threaten to weaken the very foundations of our democracy. As Nichols observes near the end of this book: “Laypeople complain about the rule of experts and they demand greater involvement in complicated national questions, but many of them only express their anger and make these demands after abdicating their own important role in the process: namely, to stay informed and politically literate enough to choose representatives who can act on their behalf.”

“We have seen the enemy, and he is us.” – Pogo

I ran into such a situation this morning on Facebook.  This is not unique—it is one of the byproducts of social media—this “backfire effect”, as Nichols warned about.  There is a meme of one of the sons of Trump at the header with a picture of Nancy Pelosi that read something along the lines of, “Democrats are organizing a special committee to investigate Trump’s actions in the COVID crisis!”  My Facebook friend exclaimed in her repost, “These people are evil!”  Both she and the meme insinuating that democrats are obviously wrong for investigating the president’s actions during this trying time in American history.  This is, of course, her confirmation bias and the backfire effect is that she has doubled down on an exponential scale.  The facts, however, are hard to argue.  Is Trump responsible for COVID-19?  No, a molecule is.  A dangerous molecule, but a molecule, nonetheless.  Could one make a reasonable argument that he was negligent in his response in mobilizing the fight against COVID-19?  Yes.  Without a doubt (simply do a Google search for the president’s statements on the coronavirus from January through April—they’re all there and very well documented).  Should that be investigated by a committee from the House of Representatives?  Yes, indeed.  This is our system, a system of checks and balances.  If one branch becomes unbalanced, then it is up to the other two to right the ship.  This is basic civics.  If the tables were turned and there was a democratic president in the White House during this crisis, rest assured, the republicans would be forming an investigative committee, too. 

To be honest, I have had to beat down my own confirmation bias to stop myself from responding to her post.  Reason should win the day and, ultimately, in the war on ignorance.  But, if we can learn anything from the times that we find ourselves, that’s not a guarantee.  It is, at best, a 50—50 proposition.  At worse, the odds are not in reason’s favor.  Reason, the facts, and the truth—keeping with the season—are often crucified on the cross of confirmation bias.

My Facebook friend and I are on opposite sides of the isle, so to speak.  By succumbing to confirmation bias, we may just as well be standing on different planets.  Therefore, I said nothing on my friend’s wall.  There is no use in arguing with a mind that’s been made up.  Theirs or mine.  I take my shot—they take theirs and then we head to our neutral corners to have our wounds seen to before the bell rings and it’s time for the next round.  It’s ineffective, inefficient communication.  Before we start throwing around big words only designed to make each other look smaller we need to look for that common ground.  We must put aside that voice that tells us that, I must be right because this is what I believe or blindly trust in what we have been told.  We need to hold our own confirmation bias in check before we address the confirmation bias in others.  This will help us in finding common ground.  I’ll go one step further, I would hope that, once the quarantine is lifted this and similar conversations should be face to face and NOT on social media.  It’s easier to empathize with someone if they are a someone—a real person and not an avatar with an agenda that has their mind already made up.

I hope that on the other side of this we can find common ground.  Things are going to be different, but we have the capacity to work together through those differences—those inevitable changes to the world that are ahead of us. 

“How do we get through that?” 

Together.

First Contact Day! ...Early

43 years from now, on 4/5/2063, two earth shattering things will take place.  First, Zefram Cochrane will usher in the age of warp drive by pushing his craft, The Pheonix to warp one.  Secondly, this act gets the attention of another warp capable species, the Vulcans, who will initiate first contact with an alien species.  This is the day that First Contact is established.

Oh yes, 43 years from now ~ after the Eugenics Wars and the plagues.  Things will start to get better.

So, we've got that going for us.

LLAP

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday

It’s Palm Sunday.  A day commemorated by Christians across the globe that marks Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem before thing go bad.  This year, most churches will not be occupied, so there is a distinct lack of palm leaves this year in church going houses across the nation. 

When I was a kid, I enjoyed getting palm leaves on the way out of the church service down at the First Baptist Church of Wildwood.  It also meant that Easter was right around the corner.  Easter is a bit of a disappointment for kids.  Don’t get me wrong, candy is nice—but Christmas is better.  Let’s face facts, wax chocolate sucks—especially in bunny or egg forms. 

Easter, coming up next weekend, is—for believers—what it’s all about.  The resurrection.  This is the largest tenant of the Christian faith—the sacrifice for sin, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Christ’s victory over sin, over death, for you and for me, and—if you believe that, then you to will share in that victory, too.  This is what it is.  The biggest tenant of one of the three biggest religions in the world. 

Some of the faithful, instead of calling it Easter, call it Resurrection Day.  Some of the faithful call this Resurrection Week, starting today.  Today, however, is Palm Sunday.  As per a quick look at Wikipedia, “Palm Sunday is a Christian moveable feast that falls on the Sunday before Easter. The feast commemorates Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, an event mentioned in each of the four canonical Gospels.”  It may be identified as a “moveable feast” but there are no decent feasts that I am aware of surrounding it.  None that I have ever taken part in, mind you.  The best you can hope for are a substandard pastry called, “Hot Crossed Buns”.  No, you’re going to have to wait until next Sunday for the spiral ham with all the trimmings.  THAT’s a feast.  Before the feast, children wake up Easter morning to see what the Easter Bunny has left them in their baskets.  This is one of the more ridiculous aspects of this whole thing.  I suppose someone wanted to exploit a religious remembrance to make a profit.  He was probably a chocolatier. 

I blame you Willy Wonka! 

Of course, I’d be wrong.  As it turns out (as per a little internet sleuthing, https://time.com/3767518/easter-bunny-origins-history/) the Easter Bunny is, probably, a Germanic tradition about an egg bearing hare that leaves eggs in a nest, called an, “Osterhase” or Easter Hare.  Behold the research…

“According to some sources, the Easter bunny first arrived in America in the 1700s with German immigrants who settled in Pennsylvania and transported their tradition of an egg-laying hare called “Osterhase” or “Oschter Haws.” Their children made nests in which this creature could lay its colored eggs. Eventually, the custom spread across the U.S. and the fabled rabbit’s Easter morning deliveries expanded to include chocolate and other types of candy and gifts, while decorated baskets replaced nests. Additionally, children often left out carrots for the bunny in case he got hungry from all his hopping.”

So, there you have it.  The Easter Bunny is a pagan.  Perhaps he is a Christian Pagan?  It could happen—this is, after all, the age of grace and I don’t know what the Osterhase takes on faith.

But I’m getting far ahead of myself.  This is Palm Sunday—Easter’s precursor.  The same people who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem will be the same people who scream for his blood, come Friday.  And they’ll get it.  Who killed Jesus?  We did.  Humanity.    

We haven’t really changed at all, have we?  We rail against so many things, we set up our barricades, our preconceived notions, our confirmation biases, circle the wagons, come hell or high water to be ‘right’, to be on the side of the argument that justifies our own conclusions.  Blind to the fact that we may be miscarrying the truth, justice, or subverting the basic reality of any given situation for our own gain.

“Give us Barabbas!” We’ll be shouting come Friday.  And we’ll get him.  Thanks to our confirmation bias we are completely oblivious to the fact that we are about to crucify the truth.

Fortunately, there will be ham come next Sunday.

Selah.

It's Been A While!

Gentle Readers

I wrote something recently and said to myself, “Say, this would be worth putting onto Chicken Scratch!”  So, the fates brought me back to my blog of yore.  I looked at the date of the last post and my jaw dropped.  “Thursday, March 14, 2019”, it read.

“Has it been that long?” I thought to myself.  How is that possible?  I mean, I’ve been writing… all sorts of things, really!  They just have not made their way here. “Has it really been over a year!”  Yes, it has been.

“Why is that,” you ask?

Well, there are several reasons why it has been a year since my last post.  It could be that Chicken Scratch never really found an audience.  It could be that my content stinks and the writing isn’t any good.  It could be that it is never seen to be read.  It could be that we live in a post-blogger world.  I never felt that the interaction that I had envisioned when I launched this ship back in 2005.  Most of the articles I write now are for social media, where there is an audience, where people interact, and ideas have the possibility of being shared and discussed.  Now I am, certainly, not giving social media the anointing of being the beacon of “the truth” that we have all been waiting for.  No—its user driven, and many of its users haven’t found Jesus or science or don’t believe facts or are just your garden variety, confirmation biased, assholes.  Of course, there are also those who think, who are receptive to new ideas & discussion, those who are open minded.  People those who can empathize, can be kind, can move the world towards—ever so slightly—a better place.  That was always my hope with Chicken Scratch.  After reviewing the blog, I hope that this was usually the case.  Even with the events of 2016—both personal and worldwide and the events right up to today, March 25, 2020 (why hello there COVID-19, pandemic).  Abed and Troy were right—this just may be the Darkest Timeline.

Even though, Chicken Scratch’s author, me—Evil Chicken has been horrible at blogging in the traditional sense, I believe there is still a place for it in this world.  A place to throw up the occasional article, journal entry, or idea.  Those aren’t illegal yet, right, ideas—ideas, I mean?

Well, we shall see what we shall see.

It’s good to see you once again, Gentle Reader.

Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into…