I didn’t dare go to my very busy pharmacy and stand in line for a prescription, so I used Instacart and a youngish petite blond woman delivered it. We are all using delivery services more these days. Their employees take the chances we are not willing to take, and fulfill a service without which our lives would substantially loose quality and comforts. In addition they are instrumental to our being able to stay safe. We are grateful, yes, yet they are the lowest paid. They have to use their own cars and are not reimbursed for the wear and tear. The husband of a house cleaner I know was a Uber driver and needed new tires which he could not afford, a scenario many of those workers surely face. Even more relevant in an era when health care is more crucial than usual, they have no health benefits. We like the cheap services. Would we use Instacart as much if the charges were higher? And if they were, for many they would no longer be affordable. It’s also the same conflict many of us have with using Amazon, a company who pays their warehouse and delivery workers so little. There are signs that after the pandemic eases the delivery businesses will have to change. There are pressures for them to do so, economic, social, legal. The result is likely to lead to higher prices for having things delivered. When that happens, for it is inevitable, how will our gratitude for all the delivery workers who cushion our lives extend to accept higher charges so that they can have better salaries and better benefits?
Category: Better Relations
Expiration Dates Are Not What They Are
The US Department of Agriculture calls it Food product dating, we know it as expiration dates on the many foods we buy. Except those dates are not as valid as they appear, most products are good way past the printed date and some years past. Sugar, honey, vanilla and other extracts, salt, vinegar can last just about forever. Rice and lentils for example are good for years, except for brown rice which is only good for months. Eggs last far longer than their dates and canned goods unless there are rust or bulges on the cans can last years too. The dates are, according to the NYT article I urge you to look at, arbitrarily arrived at, and do not mean the food item is spoiled. As far as I can tell the dates are decided upon by the manufacturer, therefore tend to be on the conservative side. That wouldn’t be surprising since it would encourage greater consumption. In an era when we need to be mindful of how we use resources, this invites unnecessary waste. In fact the notion of expiration dates not representing the end of product usability is not new. A while back I did a piece on medications which also do not have accurate dating.
Expiration dates are so much part of our culture, we don’t give them much thought and assume if it says January 2022 it is January 2022. This revelation, spurred by the need for many to use what’s in their pantry during being sheltered at home, forces us to think for ourselves, to use our common sense about what is spoiled and what is not. Let’s call it a silver lining from the pandemic.
No Prison Visitations
It’s easy to forget the plight of those who are incarcerated during this coronavirus pandemic. They have no masks, no gloves, some may be given bleach or disinfectant for their cells, many not. There are no provisions that I’ve read about at least to protect neither inmates nor their guards although I’ve read that contamination in such a setting could aggravate the public health crisis. Perhaps it is not an exaggeration to say that given the lack of social isolation inmates are like proverbial sitting ducks. There is though one more consequence, the impact on their families and loved ones. As a precaution to not spread the virus or to bring it in, face to face contacts and visitations have been stopped nationwide in state and federal prisons. And since prisons do not have the staff and often the inclination to keep families informed about the welfare or whereabouts of inmates, families are now left wondering what’s going on with their loved ones. In some cases it is not virus related, but whether the cancer treatments were continuing, or whether the COPD of another was being addressed. I have found, as numerous others have too, that the well-being of someone we love can be more important than our own, that the pains of someone we love can be harder to bear than ours. And so in this time of difficulties, when my heart goes out to so many groups such as refugees, detainees, homeless and so many others, I include the anguish of those who have a family member incarcerated.
A Shortage of Condoms
It’s easy to say that a shortage of condoms is not a big deal, but as it turns out that’s not quite so. Malaysia is on lockdown because of the virus, and that’s where the world’s biggest producer of condoms is. The 3 factories of Karex Bhd have opened up again but are working at only 50% capacity. They produce condoms for many brands including Durex, also for the UK’s NHS as well as for the UN’s Population Fund. When at capacity, they make 100 million condoms a week, so the closures mean a shortage is looming. It will be a while for the factories to come up to capacity and be able to fill the demand. Factories in China, India and Thailand are also on lockdown as of this writing. For countries like Africa and the many NGOs through which the condoms are distributed, it will not take a week or a month but may take at least several months before the shortage can be made up, thus creating another kind of humanitarian crisis, forcing people to have children before they are able to care for them, or perhaps be unduly contaminated by diseases. And it’s doubtful the issue of unwanted pregnancies and disease contamination will be confined to Africa and is bound to also manifest closer to home. A shortage of condoms, inconsequential as it first appears ends up demonstrating how the long arms of the coronavirus reach far and wide, showing us once again how interrelated we are, and how what happens in one distant country can affect all.