Here we go again

And by the headline of this blog, I don't mean the holidays.

Slowly and surely, we are being warned about a triumvirate of viruses about to assault us this winter: RSV (respiratory syncytial virus), influenza and Covid.

We're already pretty familiar with the flu and Covid. The flu has been with us for centuries, it seems. Covid (often confused with the flu by those who want to ignore the science) has been with us since late 2019, even though it seems like centuries.

And RSV appears to be the newcomer in this group of three even though it's been around for ages. It's actually a relatively common virus that causes infections in the respiratory tract, and while it can affect adults, it seems to be targeting high-risk infants in its current form, which is probably why it's in the news these days. That and the fact that hospitals are becoming overloaded with patients again.

 RSV can be treated with oxygen therapy.

As far as the flu is concerned, it's my understanding that those medical professionals responsible for preparing the correct flu vaccine with the correct corresponding strain of the flu virus have hit the target this year. There is optimism that the flu shot should be very effective this go around.

And the predicted/anticipated rise in Covid this winter already has us talking about masking, mandates, social distancing and vaccinations, and we barely finished with our turkey.

It'll be interesting to see who's listening. A couple weeks ago, a report came out that Covid was killing twice as many Republicans (who mostly abstained from the science of vaccinations because of their political persuasion to defy logic) as Democrats (who mostly begged for vaccinations). There's some empirical evidence for you. See here.

Kim and I are up to date on all of our vaccinations. In fact, we've also been vaccinated for shingles. Plus, I've gotten the pneumonia shot and recently had an update on my tetanus shot. Just call me Pincushion Bruce. I don't care. I'll take any shot they tell me to if it gets me to my 72nd birthday.

There's one epidemic for which there seems to be no cure. Mass shootings seem to be on the rise again, occurring at a godawful rate of nearly two per day – more than 608 mass shooting this year alone. According to the Gun Violence Archive, which keeps track of these things, there have been 40,133 deaths to gun violence this year, including 614 to mass shootings.

That's a lot of empty seats at the Christmas table.

Why do we insist on killing ourselves this way? What other country eats its own like this?

If only there was a vaccination for gun violence.

Democracy lives

For a while there, I was wondering what was wrong with the American electorate during Tuesday's mid-term elections.

After all, nearly two million people in Georgia cast their ballots for a grossly unqualified former football player who could barely articulate an intelligent sentence to represent their interests in the United States Senate. 

And it wasn't just Georgia. Election deniers and erstwhile extreme right-wing snake oil salesmen were running for offices all across the country: Californian J.D. Vance ran for the Senate seat in Ohio; television doctor Mehmet Oz from New Jersey was running as another carpetbagger for the Senate seat in Pennsylvania; and election denier Ron Johnson was seeking a third term in Wisconsin.

Every election I hear how smart the American people are when they go to the polls, and yet I was holding my breath this time as incompetent candidates were seeking powerful offices and coming unbelievably close to winning their races.

All of this reminded me of something I read years ago about the creation of the Constitution, where some of the Founding Fathers wondered if they could indeed trust the voting public. One delegate, Gouverneur Morris of New York, feared poor people without property (property was being considered as a qualification to vote) would sell their votes to the rich.

Morris was afraid the the country would "abound with mechanics and manufacturers who will receive their bread from their employers" and suggested that "the ignorant and dependent can be as little trusted with the public interest" as small children.

Imagine if there had been fear-mongering FOX News back then. Holy cow.

Anyway, Tuesday's elections came and went. Despite predictions of a red tsunami that would flood the House and Senate with election denying, Social Security stripping Republicans, nearly the opposite happened. John Fetterman, the current lieutenant governor of Pennsylvania who has a Master's degree in business from Harvard University as well as a hoodie from Carrhart, knocked off Oz to win the seat and essentially give the Democrats control of the Senate.

That is fortuitous for the country that has had to wade through currents of lies and misinformation from both sides of the aisle. But President Joe Biden can continue to offer judges and cabinet heads for Senate approval. Those who are still denying that Biden won the election in 2020 – without evidence, mind you – can just shut the hell up.

Indeed, as of today, the House of Representatives is still up for grabs, with the votes of about 20 seats still to be totaled. The Republicans have a paper-thin edge for control at this moment, but it could change. Wouldn't that be something in what was supposed to be a red tsunami year?

All of this gives me a moment to consider that the American electorate might be just smart enough. Yep, too many whackos got too close to gaining office (Vance and Johnson come to mind).

We're not out of the woods yet. We might never be. Democracy – and the will of the people – managed to survive this time. Nevertheless, in order for it to continue to survive, diligence must also be sharpened. We have to decide if democracy is worth fighting for. That means expanding voting rights, not constricting them. That means ending gerrymandering and redlining.

It means not voting for former football players who think part of their family comes from Mars (See here).

It means democracy lives.

 

What a run

There's a symmetry in baseball that is so subtle that not everybody sees it. Or senses it. Or grasps it.

But it's there.

It's not just the 90 feet between bases, where an inch or two longer would see nearly everybody getting thrown out on ground balls at first base, or an inch or two shorter where nearly everybody would beat out infield grounders for base hits.

It's not just the 60 feet, six inches which gives the pitcher just enough time and space to throw a curveball. Or a slider. Or a knuckleball. Or a fast ball.

Or a letters-to-knees strike zone that allows this to happen.

It's not even that the game is played on a perfect diamond. All of these are merely the physical symmetries of the game.

But the game is played on an intangible level, too.

How about the New York Yankees Aaron Judge, who wears uniform number 99? The night he hit his 62nd home run, the Yankees had a record of – wait for it – 99-62. Why would you think the Yankees are not Judge's team?

The intangible symmetry of a No. 6 seed – the Philadelphia Phillies – going against a No. 1 seed – the Houston Astros – for the world championship.

The Astros, not only one of the best teams in the game, but also one of the best organizations, defeated the Phillies 4-1 last night in Game 6 of the best-of-seven series to win their second world championship since 2017, and thereby giving the venerable Dusty Baker his first World Series ring as a manager, something he's been trying for 25 years. He's on a fast train to the Hall of Fame as we speak.

To me, a diehard Phillies fan, the most obvious moment of symmetry came in Game 3, when the Phillies defeated the Astros 7-0 on the strength of five home runs. The very next game, four Houston pitchers combined to throw a no-hitter against the Phils – only the second no-hit game in 119 years of World Series history. Symmetry.

This is baseball. This is what it does. Over the course of a long season, baseball is the symmetry of conflicting emotions, of beautiful diving catches in the outfield and agonizing bobbled double play balls at second base. It's the symmetry of a mediocre team (the Phillies were just six games over .500 – 87-75 – at the end of the regular season) taking on the best there is.

It's the symmetry of a cheesesteak against a nacho plate.

The Phillies got hot at just the right time, winning playoff series against St. Louis, Atlanta and San Diego. They did so with timely hits, incredible late-inning rallies, and a suspect bullpen that somehow seemed to find itself in October.

They were fun to watch.

It was the symmetry of a long season that ended up giving not only a city, but an entire region something to cheer for. The team has youth. It has experience. It has a couple of needs, particulaly in pitching depth, if it wants to reach the next level.

And it all leads to this: as my wife pointed out (she is a non-sports fan, by the way, illustrating yet another example of curious Yin-Yang symmetry in our house), there's also the glorious symmetry of there's always next year.

God help me, I love baseball.