Do you think the world has gone just a tiny bit "drink the Kool-Aid" over the coronavirus threat?
I don’t, by any means, try to make light of those suffering from it, but praise the Lord and pass the ammunition for heaven sake.
An Australian couple, being prepared, managed to buy not 48 rolls, but 48 boxes of toilet paper. You’d think the credit card statement showing a whopping $3,260 for TP might have rung the odd alarm bell, now wouldn’t you? This netted them 2,306 rolls of the seemingly precious commodity, and apart from having to find storage for them, they have had to come up with a way to get rid of them.
"Holy crap," came the response from Mrs. Janetzkis. Not daunted, she and the hubby have turned their disaster to some good. They’re selling the toilet paper at cost as a fundraiser for their daughter’s school. Just makes you all warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it?
An Aussie newspaper – somewhat tongue-in-cheek I feel – has printed eight extra pages – "Emergency Toilet Paper" – in their recent edition; supermarkets are bare-shelved in the toot paper department, so some stores have hired security guards to patrol customers who are evidently close to fisticuffs over the product.
As some wit put it "buy facial tissues – it’s your nose that’s going to run!"
I’ve seen some amazing photos of people trying to protect themselves from the scourge of the millennium. Not having regular medical facemasks available, they’ve taken to new and inventive ways to elude the bug, despite the fact the medical profession has said it’s about as useful as a screen-door on a submarine for those trying to avoid the virus. Wonderful things if you actually have it, but not so much in the prevention department.
Folks have taken to slinging the skin of half an orange over their nose and mouth. Someone donned a rather fashionable half cantaloupe. People have been seen doing the grocery shopping while shrouded – shopper, cart and all, in an enormous top-of-head to floor length plastic bag. Others have been seen sporting an empty water cooler bottle, slightly modified, over their heads.
If you ask me, the world has gone ever so slightly potty.
As you are no doubt aware, Sir and I travel quite often to the California high desert to visit our magnificent aunt, Diamond Lil from Boston. We normally fly into San Diego and drive two hours inland, this usually being the most cost effective, as flying into Palm Springs requires a second mortgage and a bank loan.
We’ve been able to book two round-trip tickets to Palm Springs for $370. Thank you, panic-ridden travelers, you’ve just saved us a bunch.
I will confess as much as I adore the ocean, you couldn’t get me on a cruise-ship for all the money on earth. The idea of possibly being sea-sick, and stuck, for weeks on end, just fills me with horror, and with the stories abounding of passengers and crews coming down with gastro-intestinal woes make me want to hide under the bed. I would rather chew off my left leg than throw up.
So there’s no danger of my being disappointed I can’t go on the "Pacific Germfest" Cruise line. But I’ll bet you can get some amazing bargains about now.
Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.