Panic? Me?

Even though I live about two miles from one of the Richardson, Texas  schools that’s been closed down because of a confirmed swine flu case,  and even though my daughter easily could have had contact with some people from that school, I’m not panicking.

 Even though I’ve been sneezing with an itchy throat the past few days, I’m not panicking. Not panicking. Springtime. Windy. Outdoors a lot. Mucho allergens blowing back and forth.  No nausea. Muscle soreness? Uh, yeah, but I’ve been doing some yard work.

Not panicking. Not.

But, unpanickingly, I do want to give two cheers, or at least a mild kudo, to Joe Biden, unnecessarily pilloried, it seems to me, for commensensical comments about avoiding confined spaces full of people whose swine flu rating you don’t  know.  It just seems clear to me that if you are on an airplane for two or three hours and a seatmate has the stuff, you stand a bigger chance of picking it up than you would walking past the same guy in a parking lot.

Likewise with the subway. I was in New York a few  weeks ago and caught the crosstown shuttle between Times Square and Grand Central.  We were so packed in I couldn’t even move my arms, which were pinned at my side. Whatever my submates were exhaling, I was inhaling.

Oh, well. I have a history of defending strange statements by administration officials.


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