Bunch of Yahoos

In the US, ordinary government-distrusting anti-vaxxers are being recruited by armed extremists to participate in rallies protesting government actions to control the spread of COVID-19.

In Ontario, ordinary government-distrusting anti-vaxxers are being recruited to participate in rallies, too. 

Bring the kids! Protesters being interviewed at Queen's Park, Saturday May 16 2020.

Another protester, another interview. Saturday May 16 2020.

I saw these people on my afternoon walk on Saturday. I stopped and, keeping my distance, talked to one of them, a fifty-something white guy wearing mirrored sunglasses. I asked him who organized the protest.

He pointed to a man standing by the John A. MacDonald statue. That guy had reached out to different groups to come together at Queen's Park to make a statement. Or statements. The size of the crowd was the point.

The man I talked to told me he was a construction worker from Collingwood. He disagreed with the government response to the virus. He thought the early estimates of how many deaths would come from COVID were "junk science" used to excuse authoritarian government action. Just because a lot of people died from the 1918 pandemic is no reason to believe that the same will happen now. We know more, he said, and people can be trusted to make their own decisions about what's risky and what's not. The government's emergency powers should be used only when there is a war on. And so on.

I noticed there weren't a lot of people wearing masks or social distancing at the rally, so I asked him if he was worried that he would be exposed to the virus and take it back to Collingwood and the people he cared about there.

He didn't think so. Besides, he said, he didn't have anyone back home to expose.

I'm not surprised.

Knock on Your Door

Last week's tiny peek into the pandemic turned out to be just the start of COVID making itself manifest at my door. Like the first time, there was food involved.

On Monday night after dinner, there was a knock on our basement door, the one that opens to the subterranean corridor that connects all the condo units. It was one of our neighbours, bearing COVID baking: sugar cookies and cinnamon buns, more calories than two men over sixty could safely burn on their own. We said we could help them out. That's what neighbours are for.

On Tuesday night, just before dinner, there was a knock on our front door. Someone had left several bags of groceries on our front step and then scrammed so fast I couldn't see anyone when I looked up and down the street. We hadn't ordered groceries. There was no receipt or transaction record, but one of the bags said "Cornershop." 

While Bruce brought the food indoors, I e-mailed all the condo neighbours to see if the order was theirs. I also called the two most likely to get their groceries this way. But no one had ordered groceries. So I got online and, after some frustrating fails on their unintuitive web site, connected with Cornershop customer support. I sent them a message with my address and the approximate time of the delivery, saying I had groceries that belonged to someone else.

I got a response almost right away reassuring me someone was on it.

I was glad they were looking into it, but because we didn't know how long this was going to take, Bruce put all the meat - bacon, pork chops and chicken breasts - in the fridge and all the frozen food - 2 kg of peeled raw shrimp and a box of Haagen Das ice cream bars - in the freezer.

There was also a 10 kg bag of white rice, four litres of milk, 18 eggs, two tubs of rice pudding, five avocados, a bag of mini round Tostitos, one banana, a box of ant traps, a spray bottle of bathroom cleaner and ... Paw Patrol bubble bath.

It was strange having someone else's groceries in my house. I worried about what I would do with them if the owner didn't show up. We don't have ants, or a bathtub. And Bruce dislikes avocados.

A few minutes after hearing from Cornershop, I went to the kitchen to start supper. Through the kitchen window I saw a young man on the sidewalk in front of our door, searching for something and frowning.

I figured I knew who he was, so I opened the door and called to him. He motioned to me that he was deaf. He didn't seem to think I knew why he was there. He tapped out an explanation on his phone and held it up for me to read.

He was from #2-284 Sherbourne Street. One property north of us. I fished his food out of our fridge and freezer, and loaded him up with his groceries. 

After he was gone, I sounded the all clear to my neighbours. 

I also suggested avoiding Cornershop. They rely too heavily on the kindness of strangers.

Thanks for reading!

Keep your distance!

Karen