Skeeter Davis said it's the end of the world: it's not but it could be

I am an ordinary guy. Actually not so ordinary. I had a university education, a good job. I have a really good pension, no debt, a home we own and quite a bit of ready cash. I'm also vulnerable - being over 70.


Our supermarket emailed a week or so ago saying they'd identified me as one of the vulnerable and therefore I had priority in ordering an online home delivery. It's restricted to one order a week but that's fine. Yesterday we had our delivery; I swear the delivery "boy" was older than me.

We have a garden, not enormous but large enough for my wife to spend hours every day catching up on tidying it up. I have an allotment less than a mile away - I spent three glorious hours there today, turning the soil, tidying up, watching the wild life and thinking what a lucky fucker I was.

Frankly, I'm beginning to suffer  from imposter syndrome. The world's in near total lock-down it appears  to keep me alive, from overwhelming our health services, from bringing charities to their knees. Well that's not me or my wife. We are not by a long chalk the poor, impoverished, infirm, decrepit elderly.

This pandemic has, however, brought me up short and I don't like it. I've never thought of myself as old, but I'm now bracketed in that class. I've started to worry about bone wastage, muscle loss and compromised immune systems and I hate this focus on self, this narrowing of perspective, an unhealthy fear of dying.

Crossing the road when someone walks down towards me on the same side. Greeting neighbours at hailing distance, choosing not to go into a shop because I might get too close to someone who might be a carrier. This is not living this is fear of dying!

And what of all those people not like us who don't have room to self isolate, to recreate in their own gardens. What about people who don't have a very nice regular, assured monthly income. What about the hundreds of thousands, millions who haven't enough cash to last until the safety net kicks in.

Oh there's speculation that this disease will bring about radical changes - for the better - after it's over. What I want to know is not the future I want those who are suffering not to suffer. I want all those stuck in hell holes given some opportunity to walk on the Elysium Fields. I want our elders and betters to stop fucking around and do what they're paid to do. "Get it done."