I hate lines. That is, I hate waiting in lines. I have a very special ridiculously expensive credit card that allows me to not wait in airport check in lines. Security and immigration? Walk this way, please.
I don’t know many people that do like lineups. Frankly, I can’t think of a soul. I listened to a delightful program on the BBC World Service hosted by the artist Dessa on standing in line. The podcast, Deeply Human, examines human traits, quoting from both experts and the humans who behave this way.
For instance, Disney theme parks can have very long lines for their rides. Sometimes it can take more than an hour before you board your tram/car/boat ride. But Disney is an expert at managing lines. They post a sign that says, “Your wait from this point is close to an hour”. But, miraculously, after checking your watch, you’re on the ride in 45 minutes. Now you don’t feel as badly about the wait. And in the meantime, Goofy or Mickey has come over for photos and hugs for the kids of all ages, breaking up the monotony. Presto. Waiting is now fun.
There’s a social contract to waiting in line. Take the example of surfers. They paddle out to sea, learning where the best waves will form. They get in line, as the point of the optimal wave break is narrow and they each take turns for the best ride. If you cut in line, called ‘dropping in’, you’re in big trouble. Fist fights are not uncommon.
Some people have taken standing in line and made it a profession. There’s a fellow in New York (where else?) who you can pay to stand in line for you to get a book signed, pick up concert or theatre tickets, and anything else requiring a physical presence. On the Deeply Human episode, “The Standing Line”, he relates that in one lineup for tickets for an event, early birds set up a number of folding chairs to hold their spots, then went away for lunch. As the line formed behind him, people started asking where those front of the line holders were and why were there empty chairs? The line holders starting taking the chairs down, and, this being New York, he called 911. He asked the police to come quickly to keep the inevitable confrontation between the absentee chair holders and the physical line keepers civil.
Etiquette demands that if we’re in line, that we’re physically present. “Hold my spot” only applies for a short time (running back to the grocery aisle to get that missed item, a quick bathroom break). Putting folding chairs in line to hold your spot rubs everyone the wrong way. We’re invested in this line. What gives you your free pass?
Me, I pay for mine to jump the queue at the airport. I’ll sometimes deliberately only pick up eight items at the grocery store so that I can take the express lane. It makes me crazy to see someone put 15 items on that express lane belt. But like most Canadians, I grin and bear it, while identifying the person in front of me with expletives not appropriate for this blog, or resigning myself to the fact that that person is probably just doing the best they can on this day.
We’ve had to wait a lot during this pandemic. We’ve essentially had lines formed for us. We have to wait to get into stores. We have to wait for an appointment for a vaccine. We have to wait to see our loved ones. We’ve been ‘lined up’ without any say in the matter and without any control. I think this is a very difficult part of the pandemic.
There’s a lineup to get essential workers vaccinated. It was also essential to get long term care home occupants vaccinated along with the staff doing this brave, valuable work. A friend from high school received his vaccine in December because he’s an anesthesiologist at a GTA hospital. It’s hard to be more front-line than that. People over 80, over 70, sure, because the virus is almost a death sentence in these age groups.
While my tender age puts me at more risk, it’s not the highest. I’m fortunate to live in a rural area, where the case counts are low, the reproduction rate hovers around one, and the new case trend is pretty flat.
Which got me thinking about who should be next in line for a vaccine. No one is asking us, the general populace, who that should be. Sure, let’s rely on science for input. But let’s add in a little common sense, too. Ten days ago, our area was put into the orange framework. Now we’re in “shutdown”. Not a lot of common sense seems to be reigning these days.
I have booked my first jab, in about 10 days from now. But I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be better for it to go to that nice young fellow checking through my groceries, who’s now are much higher risk from variants? What about the Purolator driver that has dropped off umpteen packages in the last 12 months? Shouldn’t they go first? But they're not on the list. I am. My sole qualification for this is my age.
I’m hoping that during this shutdown reset, the powers that be reexamine what they’re doing and how they’re doing it; from limiting social interactions to vaccine rollout. That they take a look at some best practices overseas and even from the US, which now has one third of their adult population vaccinated.
We’re Canadians. We know what sacrifice means. We know how to step up to the plate when it counts. I like to think that “all for one and one for all” isn’t quite dead yet. If someone needs the vaccine before me, they should have it. But I don't have a say in the matter.
I'll leave you with a short clip of the swans returning to the nearby Allens Lakes. A sure sign of spring.