Outcasts and Outside

 Funny how being a writer can turn you into someone others might give a wide berth to on a sidewalk, Covid or no Covid.

There I was today, on my way home from my morning walk, repeating over and over, “Boo, Big, Outside, Pariah.” These were all random thoughts that had crossed my mind and I wanted to get them down on paper (or actually computer) before I lost them. And yes, I know I could have used Siri to record them but that still doesn’t come naturally to me and I was also semi-listening to the radio talk show Potus.

          “Boo” and “Big” I’ll leave for another day.

 

First, Pariah.

I was surprised and really disheartened after a recent conversation (safely distanced) with a couple of neighbors. Of course the topic came up of who’s got the vaccine, who’s getting the vaccine, and when we’re getting it.

One (who’s looking forward to her second shot) person’s daughter is a nurse who refuses to get the vaccine. Another member of the group said that due to an extreme reaction to the shingles shot, she won’t get the vaccine either, supposedly on doctor’s advice. Someone else said that another neighbor – a person with his doctorate – also doesn’t plan to get it. His justification seemed to lean toward plain old anti-vaxing bugaboos. 

 What does the future hold in this regard? Will people who refuse simply cancel each other out as they inevitably become infected and survival of the fittest kicks in? Will their options in life diminish if proof of vaccine becomes a thing? Will they become society’s pariahs if we all separate into camps of those who have been vaccinated and those who have not? And more importantly, will they become carriers, the Typhoid Marys of this century?

One thing I'm sure of - I plan to give these types a wider berth than I might have gotten for my sidewalk mutterings.

The second thought, Outside, is from an interview I’d just heard while walking. I can’t remember who the speaker was, but I wonder if they’ll catch me when I steal it for my next book. It’s perfect for my exercise-phobic main character.

          Outside is where you go to get to the next inside.