I ran into my friend Steve, looking over the ice cream flavors at Natural Grocers.
I mean: Steve was looking over the flavors.
I don’t ever need to look over the flavors, because I always buy chocolate. But this is a free country, and if some people want to stand there for five minutes, examining ice cream labels, that’s fine by me.
At any rate, it gave me and Steve a chance to catch up on the latest.
He was wearing a Western-print bandana over his face, and a blue “Biden/Harris” t-shirt, so I was careful to stay socially distanced.
When Steve and I run into one another, I usually start right off asking about his health. Because I know we’re going to wind up talking about it anyway, sooner or later.
“So how did your COVID test turn out?” I asked.
There are people who like to talk about their health issues, and others who are tight-lipped about anything that even hints at possible human frailty. Steve loves to talk about his health, especially the various drugs he’s taking for his various ailments, and their side effects. Heck, he can talk for half an hour about a hangnail. Eloquently, and with feeling.
“Well, I’m feeling pretty positive about my negative test,” he told me. “Although there’s a part of me that’s feeling negative, because if the test was positive, then I could just have my damned COVID infection, and get this whole thing over with. I mean, I’m fairly positive that we’re all going to get it, sooner or later.”
“Well, that’s a pretty negative way of looking at the situation,” I suggested.
“Not at all,” he argued. “If you can’t feel positive about being positive, then you’re probably going to spend your life worrying, and just generally feeling negative.”
“I can see your point,” I conceded. Reluctantly. “But there are a lot of people out there who have tested positive, and ended up feeling pretty negative about it.”
“True.”
“Although I’ve heard that you can’t always be positive, when the test is negative, because it might be a false negative,” I reminded him. “Or a false positive.”
“Which is another reason why I’m a little bit negative about the push to get everyone tested,” Steve admitted. “You can never be positive about the results, even if you’re negative.”
I then mentioned that I thought it was weird, the way the public health professionals talk about a ‘positive test’ when it actually means that you’re sick and possibly going to die.
Steve laughed. “You know, I’ve wondered the same thing. If the test is positive, they should be calling it a ‘negative test’ — especially since they can’t be positive about whether it’s truly negative, or positive.”
“I never thought of it that way,” I chuckled. “How can they call a test ‘positive’ when they can’t be positive that it’s positive?”
“But just think how confusing it would be,” Steve mused, “if they called all the tests ‘negative’ because they couldn’t be positive about the positive ones. We’d all develop negative feelings about the public health industry.”
“If we haven’t already, you mean,” I snorted.
“Yeah.”
At that point, the conversation sort of petered out, and it felt like time to change the subject.
“So, what flavor ice cream are you thinking of buying?” I asked. Just being friendly.
“I was thinking maybe Sea Salt Caramel. But I’m not positive…” he said, hesitantly.
“Well, I’m positive. I’m always positive,” I told him, in a confident tone.
Steve looked surprised, and then he snickered. “Good thing I was wearing my bandana…”
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.