Coping with COVID-19 at the Costco

There were lines at the Costco Saturday. Turns out they were titrating customers 50 at a time into the store. This was clearly some sort of coronavirus anti-crowding measure which was itself creating a crowd outside the store.

In our post-COVID-19 world the lines gave me pause as did the utter silence when I opened the back door of my house to let the cat out at 5 a.m. this morning and was struck by the deafening silence outdoors – broken, of course, by the hum and rattle of neighborhood heat exchangers. The cat would have none of it. He gave a sniff and then ducked back into the house. 

Like me, maybe the cat sensed something missing. What was missing was the distant roar of jet engines from Washington-Dulles International Airport – 15 miles away. This is a new kind of silent spring.

There are pictures in the paper, The Washington Post, of the empty streets of New York City, which I can’t help but contrast with the still-bustling local highways of Northern Virginia. The volume of traffic Saturday suggested a unique level of denial. Where could all these people be going on a Saturday with so many stores closed? Are people just driving out of habit? Are they stir-crazy?

Maybe we haven’t closed enough stores in Northern Virginia. The Washington Post says Mayor Muriel Bowser in Washington, DC, and Maryland’s Governor Larry Hogan have been more severe in their COVID-19 response than has Virginia’s Governor Ralph Northam.

Many restaurants are still open with Chuy’s in Fairfax serving food from a tent to drive-by customers and a nearby pizzeria in Fairfax with a packed lobby and a one-and-a-half hour wait for pies. One-and-a-half hours for a pie? It may be “New York pizza,” but that shouldn’t mean flying them in from New York.

The CNN Website reports on a West Virginia couple suffering the symptoms of COVID-19’s onset unable to get tested while politicians tout the state’s lack of an infection – a claim which ended last week. The New York Times details the falteringly slow response to the crisis in Italy which has yet to “flatten” its curve. Experts say our pace of infections and fatalities in the U.S. is climbing at a rate still paralleling that of Italy.

Since my gym closed and I have taken up outdoor walking I grow concerned as I see experts and politicians indicating that “proper” pandemic response measures ought to include more serious steps which would forbid going outdoors. I consider the number of cars still driving around and assume – hope – that my walking will not be sanctioned – as it has been in New York.

Walking is turning into a crowd creating endeavor in my neighborhood as a growing volume of local pedestrians “rediscover” the walking paths in our development. Dog walkers, bikers, joggers, couples, kids, families. I decide it may be better to walk along the local highway where there are paths and fewer people.

Premium gas at the Costco is $2.15, regular is $1.85, which is awesome, but there’s nowhere to drive, so who needs cheap gas? (The lines are not surprisingly short for this cheap gas.)

I’m worried about my 93-year-old mother, but a visit is out of the question. Mom’s happy to chat on the phone, though. What happens when the hospital where she gets regular treatments is overwhelmed with COVID-19 sufferers?

Are we over-reacting? Are we under-reacting? I’ve never heard silence like the silence I “heard” this morning – okay, the Muir Woods near San Francisco with its lack of insects and birds is no-doubt quieter – and outside my brother’s house in Northwest Connecticut at night, too, is very quiet – and very dark. Still.

It’s unnerving, this COVID-19 interregnum. But it can be inspiring as well. It’s a good time for asking questions and reconsidering. I’m going to take another two hour walk this morning and do just that. Better than waiting in line at the Costco. I’m sure we’ll run out of toilet paper one of these days. For now, I want to "enjoy the silence." (Apologies to Depeche Mode.)