Yes, it’s after midnight. Yes, I’m still awake. Time to post on the blog, because I’m too angry and scared to sleep.
Forget the stupid Coronavirus. COVID-19 is freaking pathetic compared to the last two hours of my life.
As in, I just threw on some clothes, put my son into the car-seat, and drove east to escape a tornado.
Everyone is fine; the tornado in question didn’t hit our town at all, even though the warning said it was there, and my husband heard the train-like horror sound that signals one is coming. We just had a short drive, sat in a deserted parking lot in the rain, and checked the radar for about an hour before returning home.
The house is still standing.
But I don’t think I’ve been that scared before. My husband insists I was literally white-knuckled in terror on board a plane once, but according to my own memory of that incident, that was a walk in the tulips compared to this.
I think the only reason I was calm is because I had to get my son and run. I didn’t have time to panic.
But that really leaves the disgusting hysteria over the never-to-be-sufficiently-damned COVID-19 “pandemic” even more absurd than I thought it was two hours ago.
Tornadoes kill people. They can pick up your house and throw it halfway across the county. I’ve seen tornadoes before (this is Texas, after all), but I’ve never been close enough to one to hear it. I’ve never had to run from one before.
There was no place to shelter in our little house. Running was the only option.
So you can take your “pandemic” panic and kiss my Texas ass.
Precautions for COVID-19 prevention are a good idea. If you’re in a high-risk category, or if you care for people who are, you should absolutely protect yourself and those around you.
But the no-more-toilet-paper-in-the-store hysteria is beyond stupid. My sister works in an Aldi warehouse and has been working ten hour days for more than a week, with no end in sight.
The Diocese cancelling all public Masses is patently absurd. The previous precautions, like omitting the sign of peace and removing hymnals from the pews (because COVID-19 can survive for a while on surfaces) were annoying, but sane. Depriving all the Catholics in North Texas of the balm for their souls is unnecessary and utterly ridiculous. It’s people thriving on drama and letting reasonable precautions turn into paranoid delusions.
If St. Charles Borromeo can minister to plague victims in Milan, the least we can do is keep the churches open:
“In the absence of local authorities, he organized the health service, founded or renewed hospitals, sought money and provisions, decreed preventive measures. Most importantly though, he took steps to ensure spiritual help, assistance to the sick and the burial of the dead. Unafraid of being infected, he paid in person, by visiting hospitals, leading penitential processions, being everything to everyone, like a father and true shepherd” (L’anno liturgico – II. Tempo Pasquale e dopo la Pentecoste, Paoline, Alba 1959, pp. 1245-1248).
I don’t have time to worry about COVID-19. I’m too busy with the tornadoes, hail, and flash flooding in my town.
You can panic when you get a tornado warning. Until then, shut up and stop buying all the toilet paper.
Be smart. Wash your hands. Keep some distance. But for the love of all that’s good and holy,