Afternoon statistics – Status of Germany – Grocery shopping during the “window” for seniors – Yeast unavailable – A sourdough starter – Hiking on the Pimmit Run Trail – Personal disqualifications for Orthodox Judaism – The Baal Shem Tov contrasted with his followers – Justin Trudeau – Losses among health care workers – Work on the Metro – The works of Thomas Mann and prevalence of illness in his fiction – Unhealthiness of American lifestyles – Evening statistics
Today’s statistics as of 12:00 PM — # of cases worldwide: 2,118,741; # of deaths worldwide: 141,913; # of cases U.S.: 652,996; # of deaths U.S.: 33,387. The incidence of occurrence in the U.S. is now 0.2% but in Spain it is almost twice as much. In Belgium the incidence rate is over 0.3% — and, surprisingly, in Switzerland as well.
Germany is planning to reopen gradually. Some small businesses will be allowed to operate after April 20th; schools will open on May 4th. But large gatherings are prohibited until the end of August, including religious gatherings. Angela Merkel voluntarily went into quarantine after coming in contact with a physician who tested positive for the virus, but she ultimately tested negative and returned to her office earlier this month.
Today I went to Safeway during the “window” of time allotted to seniors. The window is 7:00 – 9:00 AM, Tuesdays and Thursdays. It evidently is done by the honor system: no one was checking customers’ ages as people entered the store. However, it seems to be working; apart from the cashiers, there were no young people to be seen. I was able to find most of the items on my list, which means that I can avoid the stores for the next three days or so. One of the items I could not find was yeast, which has virtually vanished off of the shelves of the stores all over the area. I am now trying to make a sourdough starter on my own.
I went out on the Potomac Heritage Trail near Turkey Run, but had to give it up eventually. I should have known better; that part of the PHT is best attempted in summer or winter, when the river’s water levels are lower. In the spring and autumn portions of the trail, especially in that area, tend to get submerged. After a couple of miles I returned to my car and went to the Pimmit Run Trail, starting at the Marie Leven Preserve and doing a there-and-back to the junction with the PHT. To my surprise I encountered only one other person on the trail. It was a chilly day, to be sure, and the section of the Pimmit Run Trail that I covered can be quite a scramble in places – but still, I was surprised to see such a paucity of hikers when so many of the other trails are swarming with them. Wildlife is becoming bolder. I saw a fox walking along the bank of the river opposite to mine. It did not appear overly concerned by my presence, whereas normally foxes run away whenever they spot a human. This one merely walked by without quickening its pace. The parking area at the Marie Leven Preserve was closed, of course, but there are no restrictions on the residual streets nearby. Driving back and forth to the trailheads has become very pleasant now that traffic has lightened so much.
It may be noticed that I mention hiking a good deal in the course of these notes, and it is true that I like to be on the trails as often as possible. I would not have had much success as an Orthodox Jew. I take great offence in particular at the following pronouncement: “One who, while walking by the way of reviewing his studies, interrupts his study and says ‘How beautiful is that tree, how beautiful is that field,’ it is as if he is deserving of death” – the silliest statement in the entire Talmud, strong though the competition is. However, I might have gotten along fairly well with the Baal Shem Tov. He, at least, enjoyed being out of doors. As a child he was continually roaming in the woods and the fields, despite the attempts of his elders to restrain him; he savored the magnificent scenery of the Carpathian Mountains during the seven years that he lived in that region (which he later referred to as the happiest period of his life); and one of his parables talks of a naïve boy who experiences religious fervor in a forest rather than in a synagogue. I suppose all religious movements diverge from the precepts of their founders to some extent, but I believe that he in particular would be rather dismayed at the sight of his professed followers studying Talmudic commentaries to the exclusion of every single other activity and squandering their intellectual energy in debates about minor points of religious etiquette. However, everyone must choose for himself in such matters.
Since I’ve been so critical of Donald Trump these past several days, it is only fair to note the idiosyncrasies of other national leaders – of the one for our neighbor to the North, for example. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, after ordering Canadians to avoid visiting vacation cottages and family reunions as part of the nation’s stay-at-home order (with people being stopped by the police and fined for crossing provincial borders), blithely took a jaunt with his family to Harrington Lake for the Easter weekend. He seems willing to evade laws that he has laid down for everyone else. Perhaps he and Donald Trump should meet to exchange pointers with each other on how best to achieve this goal.
We’ve had losses of health care professionals whom we can ill afford to spare. Ronald Verrier, initially from Haiti, was a surgeon in the Bronx who worked day after day with an overwhelming number of patients as the virus ravaged New York City. He developed symptoms in early April and had to take to his bed, but he continued to call in to meetings with his colleagues from his home during the last week of his life until April 7th, the day before he died. Vianna Thompson was a nurse in Reno, NV, who treated a colleague who had contracted the virus, came down with it herself, and died four days later. Daisy Doronilla, a nurse for the Hudson County jail in New Jersey, developed a cough in mid-March, was hospitalized on March 21st, put on a ventilator on March 22nd, and died on April 5th. Jeff Baumbach, a nurse at a hospital in Stockton, CA, had worked for 28 years with patients suffering from infectious diseases without catching as much as a cold, but in March he developed symptoms, was put on a ventilator on March 26th, and died on March 31st. Technically speaking his death was listed as pneumonia, but the virus undoubtedly precipitated matters, since his health up to time of his final illness had been impeccable. Alvin Simmons, a cleaner for a hospital in Rochester, NY, displayed symptoms on March 11th, was hospitalized on March 13th, and died on March 17th. This death is especially worrisome, because it was the first recorded case at the hospital; up to this point, there had been no reason to suspect that any part of the facility was harboring the virus. Debbie Accad, a nursing coordinator at a hospital in Detroit, complained of feeling ill on March 16th, was hospitalized on March 20th, and died on March 30th. In all of these cases the speed with which the illness progressed is the most alarming factor. Verrier, for instance, was reported as being confident and “in good spirits” on April 7th, but died on the following day.
Because the ridership of the Metro had decreased so substantially, construction on the Silver Line can be moved ahead of schedule. It is much easier to shut down lines temporarily. Initially a complete shutdown was proposed for 15-16 weeks, but it appears that this may be reduced to as little as three weeks.
It is a little curious going over some of the works of Thomas Mann under these circumstances. Illness is continually recurring. The Magic Mountain, of course, takes place in a sanatorium, and the protagonist of Death in Venice dies in the middle of cholera epidemic, so it is not surprising that none of the characters in these two works are prime specimens. But still – it is a bit strange. In The Magic Mountain, it’s assumed as a matter of course that all visitors, even if they are not in the least tubercular, will need an adjustment period to acclimatize to the altitude of Davos – which is less than that of Denver. Hans Castorp is orphaned at the age of seven and James Tienappel, one of his few living relatives, is not particularly robust. In Buddenbrooks hardly anyone is healthy. Johann gets rheumatic in his early forties. Thomas has a hemorrhage in his twenties and dies of a stroke at the age of forty-eight. Klara dies of tuberculosis before she is thirty. Christian dwells on his cramps and fevers and internal pains at wearisome length, but they are genuine ailments, not the fancies of a hypochondriac (although he certainly is one). Antonie has digestive issues. Her second child dies at birth. Johann the younger succumbs to typhoid when he is in his teens. Johannes Friedemann (“Little Herr Friedemann”) is another early orphan, his father dying in Johannes’ infancy and his mother following before he turns twenty-one. Tonio Kröger also loses his father at an early age although his mother, most unaccountably, appears to be still living when he reaches adulthood. Frau Cornelius (“Disorder and Early Sorrow”) is worn down and chronically fatigued, and she ought to be staying at a spa for a “cure,” except that the family’s precarious financial situation as a result of the runaway inflation makes this course of action impossible – this detail has no bearing on the plot and is merely thrown in casually. Adrian Leverkühn, in Doctor Faustus, certainly self-destructs by contracting syphilis as a result of his dissipations; but his librettist Rüdiger Schildknapp, despite his imposing physical presence, is actually rather frail, with a tendency to be tubercular, and Adrian’s nephew Nepomuk dies in childhood from meningitis. There simply is no getting away from disease in his writings. Since Mann is considered to be one of the great German realistic writers, it leads me to wonder . . .
. . . can it be? . . .
. . . is it possible? . . .
. . . that the Germans of that time, far from being a Herrenvolk, were actually a rather sickly and suffering people?
Today, of course, the boot is on the other foot. The lifestyle of the average American is much less healthy than that of the average German. We eat too much and our habits are too sedentary. The number of obese people among our population, and of morbidly obese in particular, is a matter of wonder to foreign visitors, and our life expectancy is less than that of several European nations, partly on account of the high incidence of heart disease. When I visited Garmisch-Partenkirchen some years ago, I encountered several people in their seventies and beyond who took to the Alpine trails as a matter of course. No doubt they were moving more slowly than at the rate they had possessed in their youth, but it never would have occurred to them to remain inactive. Americans in general disdain to walk, and they pay for this preference in their old age, with bent spines, inflexible knees, and fragile hips. I see plenty of examples at the assisted-living facility where my mother lives, in some cases among people whose age is not much greater than my own.
Today’s statistics as of 9:00 PM — # of cases worldwide: 2,182,058; # of deaths worldwide: 145,516; # of cases U.S.: 677,570; # of deaths U.S.: 34,617. Our case incidence rate now exceeds 0.2%.
