How old were you when the pandemic started in old-time and modern Phoenix?

I had stopped in for my early morning coffee, during my ride, and couldn't help but notice that the young man behind the counter was having some difficulties understanding me through my mask and the plexiglass shield that separated us. I've learned to wait until I get eye contact, and say very clearly and distinctly "Senior coffee, two Splendas, please". The word coffee seems to go through, but the next part can be kinda tricky so I hold up two fingers, like a peace sign. I actually don't insist on the brand name of Splenda, it's just that it's easier for people to understand than "zero-calorie sweetener" or Equal. Sorry, Equal.

That's usually all that I say, but this morning I asked the young man, whom I presumed to be in his late teens or early twenties, "I'm going to ask you a personal question - how old were you when the pandemic started?" It's not something that I usually ask, and I wouldn't have been offended if he hadn't answered, but he did, and he said, "Twenty". He will remember the year 2020, and I couldn't help later on thinking that it would be something that he could tell his grandchildren someday.

Since there hasn't been a worldwide pandemic for over 100 years, I can't imagine anyone today would remember the one in 1918. It's conceivable that people today would have been alive back then, but I can't imagine that they'd remember much. But this is the way that I think. Let's time-travel.

Since I'm writing this on September 24th, 2020, we can go forwards and imagine looking back, or we can go backwards, and imagine looking back. Either way, people would remember, and then after 100 years it would fade away. Most of the people I know had never even heard of the pandemic of 1918, and how many people it killed (500 million worldwide), and that even in places like Phoenix masks were required, by law. And yes, there were the "scoff-law" people, who formed anti-mask societies, that isn't new, either.

Today I thought that it would be fun to time-travel into the future. My dad lived to be 96, and I imagine that, if I don't get run over by a truck while pedaling around Peoria (a suburb of Phoenix), I'll be good for that, if not more.

I turned sixty-two in April of 2020, and so if I look back from the vantage point of my nineties, that will be thirty years in the future. There will be a lot of young people for whom all of this will just sound fantastic. And I'm sure that as they look into my eyes, they'll wonder if it's just senility, or my imagination, running away with me?

But I was there when it all began. Well, the 2020 one, not the 1918 one, and if you're reading this, you'll be old enough to remember, and you can share this part of history.

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