The reunion plans continue to move along, in a semi-uncontrolled trajectory. There was some kerfuffle last week regarding a former classmate who, for reasons unknown to me, was purposely not invited. All I know is that he contacted one of the committee members a week ago (probably via email), and whatever he said caused the two guys on our committee (4 ♀, 2 ♂, which is a bigger proportion of men than I remember for high school functions) to decide that we needed to hire an armed guard for our event. One of the guys said he'd pay for it, I suspect to prevent anyone from protesting.
Rather than protest, I asked whether this might be a good time to reconsider event insurance (I got shot down in flames the last time I brought it up). I also suggested that if the problem (whatever it was) was that serious then we needed to consider alerting the venue and the local constabulary. I got a thumbs up on the event insurance and a thumbs down on alerting anyone outside our committee. I was informed that the last thing we needed was the local police sitting at the venue's exit watching everybody leave at the end of the night (i.e. watching for drunk driving). I bought the insurance. I shook my head at the rest of it. And I privately decided that if there was going to be an armed guard there then I'd have some unfortunate emergency the night of the event and be unable to attend.
OK, it has to be said: Called in armed security because of a major threat, but don't tell anybody else about a major threat because we might get caught DUI? What the fuck, people?
The guys finally decided not to get armed security for the night. I've been getting lots of exercise shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders. Whatever is going on, I am forced to wonder if, contrary to popular opinion, males are the flightier gender.
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I haven't really written much since COVID-19 hit. I know it's over for most of you, but it has upended my way of life, and while things have normalized for me, it's a new normal. I'm in my late sixties, on several immunosuppressants, have a minor heart condition (that I'm scheduled to have reevaluated in October), and have diabetes (which I have managed to control to what's called "prediabetic" level). Immunizations will not work as well for me. I'm at higher risk of serious illness, and higher risk for Long COVID. So I take measures to reduce my risks.
I don't go to to high risk events. I do not go to inside restaurants. When I'm in a moderate risk situation, I mask. I've gotten looser with masking since back in the bad old days of COVID, when I masked every time I had to go out of the house. But since pretty much nobody is still masking around these parts, I'm in a very visible minority. [As an aside, I find it remarkable how many strangers take my best interests to heart and try to explain to me why I'm being obsessive-compulsive/overly cautious/ a Democrat/ a hypochondriac/ a sheep (my personal favorite) when all COVID does any more is give you the sniffles. I go into this in detail simply because it does affect my plans for the reunion.
We have nearly 200 people coming in from literally coast to coast to attend. That makes it, by my own perhaps questionable definition, a High Risk Event. These people are coming in via plane, via long-distance car trips, via Greyhound bus for all I know. They have a chance of being exposed to and incubating any virus or bug when they attend the reunion. I do not have a problem with this, as our 50th is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and there is no choice but to take some risks if one wishes to attend. But I would be a fool to not acknowledge this.
I will be masked. I haven't made a big deal about it to the committee members, but I did let them know early on that I was immunosuppressed and would be masked at the reunion. There are a few that are acting like they've just found out about this and simply can't understand. One of the other committee members is aghast that I'm not planning to eat dinner and drink with everyone. Another one doesn't understand why I'm not coming to the pre-party (yes, you read that correctly) the night before at a local restaurant that is so popular it is known for having spill-over into the parking lot. Not a lot of sympathy, but plenty of "Oh, it'll be OK just this once."
Whatever.
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Just to prove I'm not a total grump - here is a picture of my COVID adoption kitty, Perry Mason.
