LOST IN AMERICA

I recently returned from a solo trip to New England, where I visited my sister and her husband in Hampshire and my older brother and his wife in Connecticut. I also shared meals and walks with fifteen Substack readers. I thoroughly enjoyed those five days. I’ll say more below about the new friends I met.

But first, I’ll discuss some road trip logistics that reflect Coronamania themes.

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When I drive, I notice that most people drive reasonably well. Their ability to self-regulate is necessary; while police patrol the roads, there are, thankfully, far too few to enforce all the rules, all the time. The roads are safe largely because humans govern themselves there. Given the disincentive of wrecking their cars or killing or seriously injuring themselves, the vast majority space themselves and maintain sensible speeds and display an appropriate level of caution, and even occasional courtesy. There are relatively few collisions in relation to the number of cars.

Sadly, a small fraction of people drive recklessly and/or are killed or badly injured in crashes. But we don’t shut down highways over this. A few months ago, I was discussing the Covid overreaction with someone who greatly feared The Virus and supported lockdowns and yet, routinely exceeds the speed limit. When I asked him if he would favor a nationwide 25-mph speed limit to save lives, he said, “Of course not!”

He seemed surprised by this question, which some people began asking in mid-March, 2020. He hadn’t considered that, as a society, we accept that many common activities, like high-speed driving, entail risks. We accept these risks, even though we know that some vital people will be killed or badly injured. Yet, during Coronamania, legions exercised extreme, undue caution and demanded that everyone do so, regardless of age. Seeing this made some of us shake our heads. And use unprecedented amounts of profanity.

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I’ve previously noted that, for several reasons, I don’t carry a cell phone. Some people express admiration and say they’d also like to go phone-free. Others evangelize about how important their phones are to them, especially in case of emergencies and thus, suggest that I should carry one.

To each, his/her own.

Principally, I don’t have a phone because I don’t like to carry stuff and know I’d serially leave it behind. I also don’t want to be reachable at all times. And I wish not to distract myself by frequently scrolling through news feeds or social media; I seek more time in the moment or reflecting, planning or being grateful. I’ve found that emergencies are rare and always manageable in one way or another. I’ve seen that many people willingly help strangers, as I also do. Though, given that most people carry phones now, people don’t need others as much in various ways.

Those who’ve advised me to get catch up, device-wise, might feel vindicated when I admit that my recent trip would have gone somewhat better if I had a smartphone. Several nights, I found myself driving after dark on unfamiliar two-lane rural roads or roaring, six-lane highways. While I see the terrain and other cars well enough, it’s become hard to read road signs in the dark, especially at 55-plus mph. Consequently, I missed some turns.

Additionally, on this trip, I noticed that many streets or roads don’t have much, or any, signage. I guess today’s transportation officials reason that most people live in the area where they’re driving and know where they’re going. And those who don’t know a given area have GPS, with voice direction, on their phones. I navigated by single-page paper maps that I’d ripped from a road atlas, which turned out to have insufficient detail when I needed to make various, spontaneous route decisions.

In the daylight, I’ve always been able to orient by the sun and find my way. But on each of the trip’s last two nights, I got lost. One night, I inadvertently found myself on dark, two-lane Eastern Connecticut rural roads for two uncharted hours, with no one around to ask for directions. I didn’t enjoy the process.

The next night, returning to New Jersey from a precious, warm outdoor night-time Nyack, New York sidewalk dinner with a lovely couple, I lost my bearings in unfamiliar Rockland County and involuntarily found myself on the access ramp to the George Washington Bridge, irreversibly bound for Manhattan, and paying the $18 toll. Fortunately, I know the city street scheme and drifted south on the West Side Highway in the darkness. After going six miles, I didn’t see the Lincoln Tunnel left-exit until it was too late to turn abruptly. Thus, I had to go another 60 blocks south to the Holland, then out to Jersey City, from which I know the way home without signs.

On both nights, I wanted to reach my destinations an hour-and-a-half earlier than I did. I didn’t need a phone to keep me from getting lost. I should have brought bigger, more detailed paper maps and studied and magic-markered them before each leg of the trip. My wasted time was my own fault. Unlike the Covophobic, I’ll admit when I was wrong, and accept the consequences, without disrupting anyone else’s life.

Still not getting a smartphone.

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Far more importantly, the readers I met on this trip were excellent company and made all of the driving more than worthwhile. These people have led interesting lives, doing such stuff as traveling the world on surfing safaris, being underwater for months on a nuclear submarine, living in West Africa or South Africa, walking across the US, testifying before legislatures regarding the mRNA jabs, starting various businesses and being public-facing MDs dealing with all of the panic and governmental overreach. At least two were yoga instructors. One was a massage therapist. Most had raised, or were raising, kids. Several are artists. One left a successful investment career to become a regenerative farmer. Two were carpenters; that skillset has always impressed me.

And more. I remember all of their names and nearly all of what they told me. But as with any of the many discussions I’ve had with readers in-person or on the phone, I’ll treat their identities and any identifying details as confidential.

Several had vaxx-injured children or friends and told me how doctors had denied that the shots could hurt anyone. Others lost jobs for defying the vaxx mandates.

All had lost friends and many had become estranged from family over the lockdowns, masks and shots. Some expressed sadness about this. Nearly all told stories of parents, children, siblings or friends who used to like them and who formerly recognized their ability to think, suddenly label and dismiss them as “MAGA Trumpers,” “conspiracy theorists,” “selfish” and “anti-vaxxers,” as if the latter were some moral or intellectual failing.

Many lamented that people with whom they had discussed many other topics, cut off any discussion of the lockdowns, closures, masks, tests and shots. All the people I met on my trip said that others had dismissed their views because “they weren’t MDs” and were told to “stay in their lane.”

Thankfully, few of my fellow Covid dissidents clashed with their spouses regarding the NPIs or the shots. I’ve heard such stories from others. These make me cringe. A home should be a place of refuge.

My New England hosts didn’t need others’ affirmation to know they were right when they said the lockdowns. masks, tests and shots were all wrong. They just wanted to to not be locked out of places where they found human company and fun or to take shots experimental shots they didn’t need. All of those I met expressed themselves clearly and logically. They showed a command of facts unknown by the general public. They had read up and applied logic. They didn’t go along to get along or to be re-included in gatherings.

Some said they‘ve been able to sustain relationships by pretending that the lockdowns, closures, mask, test and vaxx mandates never happened or by putting this elephant-in-the-room topic off-limits. I don’t think less of those who’ve avoided confrontation. I’m just unable to compartmentalize in this way. I thought all aspects of the Scamdemic have deserved—required—discussion.

The whole ordeal made me lose trust and respect for those who bought the hysteria. I value good judgment in others. Being around those with poor judgment brings me down.

I’ve been blessed with new friends. From first looking into each other’s eyes and grasping each other’s hands and wrapping our arms around each other, there’s a palpable sense of shared experience, kinship and affinity between us dissidents. We’ve been hated or ghosted by many others, who remain unwilling to admit they were wrong to support the lockdowns, masks and shots.

Those few who approach an apology insist that they “couldn’t have known.” That’s neither true nor contrite. Invokers of this excuse fail to take responsibility for not thinking and refusing to engage in open-minded dialogue when it mattered.

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As I often have, during the conversations on my trip, I alternated between basking in the Covid skeptics’ lucidity and sanity and wishing I had known these people in 2020, when I felt alienated from much of the world that had bought the lies and lost their heads. I knew sensible people, though rare, were out there; lockdowns, closures, masks and tests were so obviously unhelpful and destructive. The shots were, at best, unneeded. I just didn’t know how to find the sane. We remain a minority. But by now, I’ve met many of you. It feels great!

I didn’t need affirmation to prove I’ve been right to say, from Day 1, that the Covid reaction was a Scam. But just so I could keep my faith in at least some of humanity, I have needed others to tell me they shared my objections to the NPIs and shots. Deep and sincere thanks for being such people.

As reader Susie said, “It means so much to connect with people who have critical thinking skills and understand what has been happening. Too many people are not curious and are even willfully determined not to open their eyes.”

To those who made time for me in early November, thanks! Y’all are awesome, unforgettable and always welcome to my house, three miles from the New Jersey Turnpike, Exit 9. You can even show up unannounced. Others have.

I guess their smartphones came in handy.