WHO GETS WHAT WHEN: Naturally, I should have been elated. I’d just turned 65 when Governor Gavin Newsom gave the orders that people my age could now get vaccinated. I’d won the lottery. Maybe the vaccine isn’t a bulletproof vest, but it’s at least a heavy raincoat. With all the infected sputum spray out there, maybe a raincoat is just what I need.
Then, as I contemplated my good fortune, it dawned on me that I had just been bumped ahead of my son, who works at Trader Joe’s where he and his colleagues had been standing in the essential workers’ batter’s box waiting to get vaccinated. That suddenly makes the public health math both tricky and uncomfortable.
Being an older white male and undeniably tougher than dirt, I am less likely to get infected than my otherwise invulnerable son, though I’m more likely to get seriously sick if I do. But he is much more likely to come into contact with infected people. Grocery stores remain one of the few spots where people absolutely must gather. No matter how conscientiously customers are required to follow safety procedures, such places are vectors. And since my son lives at home, that matters to the whole family. What happens at Trader Joe’s — or any other essential food outlet — does not necessarily stay at Trader Joe’s.