We’re living in a real-life horror film
Covid-19 is on the warpath once again, with a new mutant strain — omicron — having gone from an outbreak in faraway-sounding South Africa to showing up on our doorsteps in a matter of days while we’re still facing the effects of the delta variant.
Once again, events are being canceled. Some school districts delayed their post-holiday reopenings as the virus refilled hospitals. Celebrities from Whoopi Goldberg to Hugh Jackman, not to mention a slew of professional athletes, have fallen prey to the virus.
We posted, Tweeted and texted Happy New Year greetings back and forth to each other, making smart remarks about leaving 2021 behind … just as we did about 2020. But covid, a millstone necklace we can’t seem to shake, is already shaping our 2022.
In short, this pandemic has begun to smack of those never-ending horror movies, and their sequels.
How many times are they going to dig Jason (“Friday the 13th”), Freddy (“Nightmare on Elm Street”), Michael Myers (“Halloween”) and Ghostface (“Scream”) back up? How many more times are they going to trot Chucky (“Child’s Play”) back out? How many times will covid rise up and come for us again?
Like these horror figures — which slash their way through a stream of numbered movie encores before filmmakers get the idea to start the franchises over, or worse, repackage them via “versus” features and TV series — covid-19 has repackaged itself, each of its relatives taking on Greek-letter names as the health-as-politics debate marches onward. Just as we think it’s safe to go back into the water … the monster returns. More become ill. More die. And we who have survived cool our heels back at Square One, counting our blessings as we view news alerts about the new cases and death toll or as our Facebook feed reveals friends asking for prayers because they or loved ones have covid. Or we’re in panic mode, having found that we, and/or our own loved ones, have been exposed.
In one way or another, all the most common horror-movie tropes lie here in the continuing pandemic.
■ The partying teenagers/doubters turned-victims. (Actually we’ve gone beyond the unwitting-partying-teens status. We’re on the level of those kids in the Halloween-era Geico insurance commercial — the kids who run back and forth on the scary guy’s property, making bad decisions, because “if you’re in a horror movie … that’s what you do.” We’re hiding behind the chainsaws and making a run for the graveyard as the mist of rapidly-changing recommendations, rules and the debates over them swirl around us.)
■ The “grizzled” old dude warning everybody of the dangers (sorry for
that description, Dr. Anthony Fauci).
■ The naive folk who think it’s safe to go back into the water, because the naive, well-meaning (or hardheaded) official announced that it’s safe to go back into the water.
■ The monster itself … the shadowy figure seen for an instant through a window or out the corner of the eye before disappearing, then reappearing soon afterward to wreak havoc. And which won’t die. It takes various lickings and keeps on ticking.
■ Those who run from the monster (via vaccines and boosters) but stumble and fall mid-chase or climb into cars that won’t start.
Meanwhile, the audience members holler at the screen, repeating the Grizzled Old Dude’s warnings and begging us, the monster’s wouldbe prey, to avoid the danger tropes: Don’t look in the mirror/go into the woods/sit on the toilet/climb into the shower/attend large gatherings/ come within 6 feet of people/ go out without a mask.
In these early days of January, a month that already brings so many of us down with Seasonal Affective Disorder, Covid Affective Disorder is likely as prolific. But if boredom and restlessness are all we have to contend with, we should indeed count those blessings. And we should do what we can to lower the chances of covid awaiting us in a dark basement, standing behind us as we look in the mirror or jumping at us as we vainly attempt to start our cars or get a signal on our cellphones.
If you’re like me, you’re determined not to live in fear. But at the same time, you’ve heeded at least some of the warnings of the Grizzled Old Dude. You’ve gotten the vaxes and booster (along with your flu shot) and sucked it up per the side effects. You’re back to reminding yourself to mask up, even though you dislike doing so because you can’t breathe and makeup gets all over the danged thing. You’re weighing the benefits against the risks when it comes to everything from going to Walmart at 2 p.m. on a Saturday to trying to go on a much-needed vacation.
Because — to mention yet another slasher-movie trope — there needs to be more than just one person left standing at the end of this movie.