I didn’t do anything to become dangerous.
Or maybe it’s more accurate to say, without doing anything, I became dangerous.
Or else you might say, the mere fact that I’m still alive, has made me dangerous.
My designation as a danger to society took place on March 11, 2020, when the World Health Organization (WHO) declared that I would likely become a carrier, in the near future, of a poorly understood but deadly virus called SARS-CoV-2, and that people should avoid getting close to me.
Of course, I wasn’t the only person earmarked by WHO as potentially infectious. They classified pretty much everyone in the world as hazardous to human life. All 7.9 billion of us. According to WHO, we had all become potentially life-threatening menaces. They also told us we were likely to become ourselves victims of deadly family members, malignant acquaintances, and lethal strangers.
WHO also pointed out that the little bats in the neighborhood might also become dangerous carriers. But we already knew that.
I’m pretty much an introvert, and I don’t get out much, which might be part of the reason that I still haven’t caught the COVID virus. At least, I’m pretty sure I haven’t caught it. I did have a mild cough for a few days, and I guess that’s one of the symptoms. But I didn’t want to get tested because I dislike having long sticks pushed up my nose.
Which is not to say that I’ve especially careful about avoiding this modern plague. I don’t wear a mask in public. I talk freely with certain friends in the supermarket. And I’ve successfully avoided getting any vaccinations for almost 18 months now. (The friends who bug me about getting vaccinated are the ones I don’t talk to in the supermarket.)
Not only am I an introvert, I’m also a coward. I don’t like sticks pushed up my nose, and I don’t like needles stuck in my arm, especially when they won’t tell me exactly what’s in the syringe. Maybe they don’t even know, themselves?
But I’m also vain. Wearing a mask is like announcing to the whole world that I’m a coward. (Pay no attention to the fact that I just publicly announced, in the previous paragraph, that I’m a coward.)
In addition to being vain, an introvert, and a coward, I’m also a skeptic. I don’t trust the medical profession. Reason number one, the medical profession designated me a ‘danger to society’ without even knowing anything about me. My ex-wife Darlene also called me a danger to society, but she at least had good justification.
Reason number two, why I don’t trust the doctors and hospitals. They told everyone to get vaccinated, promising that the vaccine would protect us from getting infected. But then it turned out that vaccinated people can get infected same as the unvaccinated people. Smooth move, guys.
Reason number three. They get paid more, when they decide that I’m sick with COVID.
And they get a huge amount of money if they stick me on a ventilator. $39,000 just for hooking me up. I read about it in the newspaper, so I’m pretty sure that’s a real number.
This is totally backwards, in my opinion. Doctors and hospitals should get paid for the people they keep from getting sick.
And people should get paid for staying out of the hospital. Let me tell you, if we had paid people for staying healthy, COVID would have disappeared in no time.
Take me, for an example. Although I’m classified as dangerous, I haven’t actually infected anyone. (Or if I did, it happened when I wasn’t looking.)
Pay me $39,000 and I will stay so healthy… you won’t believe how healthy I can stay.
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.