Showing posts with label Gridiron Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gridiron Club. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Fight coronavirus: No more elbow bumps! -- March 12, 2020 column


By MARSHA MERCER

Like many others, I’m learning how to live in the time of coronavirus.

I was glad to hear handwashing is the first line of defense against the aggressive disease – until I learned I’ve been washing my hands wrong my whole life.

Simple handwashing is actually a seven-step process involving special attention to tops and bottoms of the hands, each finger and wrist and should last 20 seconds – long enough to sing the “Happy Birthday song” twice, not just once.

Fortunately, “Stayin’ Alive” by the BeeGees and “Jolene, Jolene” by Dolly Parton are among other tunes with 20-second choruses.

I feel guilty touching my face, which I still do countless times an hour, despite my best intentions.

Greetings and good-byes are now fraught with danger. I automatically accepted someone’s outstretched hand for a handshake on Capitol Hill the other day.

“We really shouldn’t,” I stammered.

“It’s OK! I have this!” he assured me, happily waving a bottle of hand sanitizer. 

Somehow, members of Congress and Hill staffers have oodles of hand sanitizer, while the rest of us haunt the empty aisles of CVS, waiting for restocking. But I digress.

If handshakes are 20th century relics, so are air kisses – and don’t even think about an “innocent” peck on the cheek or mouth kisses. Fist bumps are out, and, just as I was getting the hang of them, elbow bumps were too.  

Elbow bumps put us within a meter of each other, and that’s about twice as close as we should be, the director general of the World Health Organization said. Maintaining 6 feet from other people is best.  

“I like to put my hand on my heart when I greet people these days,” tweeted the director general, who has the splendid name Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus. Some members of Congress wave or give Spock’s Vulcan salute.

I’m learning a new vocabulary. “Social distancing” is the term for public health actions designed to contain contagion. When dozens of colleges and universities around the country suspend classes, that’s social distancing, not extended spring break.

Businesses are sending employees home to telework, canceling travel and large meetings. Clubs and volunteer organizations are also choosing to meet virtually or not at all.

The Gridiron Club, Washington’s premier journalism group, canceled its annual white-tie dinner and musical show lampooning politicians for only the second time in 135 years and the first time since 1942.  

The World Health Organization Wednesday declared COVID-19 a pandemic, meaning it is widespread around the world. More than 1,000 Americans have been diagnosed with COVID-19, according to Johns Hopkins University researchers. More than 30 people in the United States have died of the disease.

Many people without symptoms put themselves into self-quarantine after learning they had dinner or interacted in other ways with someone who has been infected.

We’ll likely see less of each other as more people go into personal isolation in months to come.

“Many people in the United States will, at some point in time, either this year or next be exposed to this virus, and there’s a good chance many will become sick,” Dr. Nancy Messonnier, director of the Centers for Disease Control’s National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, said Tuesday, but “we do not expect most people to develop serious illness.”

Most – about 80 percent – will get a mild case, but about 20 percent could get severely ill and die. The disease hits older people hardest, and CDC this week suggested people 60 and over avoid crowds, stock up on groceries and medications, and stay off cruise ships and long plane trips.

For the latest on the disease and staying healthy, avoid the bogus cures and lies on social media. Check out coronavirus.gov.

Among the CDC’s tips besides washing, but not shaking, hands: Avoid sharing food and open windows at home, in offices, taxis and ride-shares and on buses. 

The irony, of course, is many offices, hotels and other commercial buildings are sealed tight so you can’t get a breath of fresh air.

Nor can we wave a magic wand and make coronavirus disappear. But we can learn how to reduce our chances of exposure and infection, and if we get sick: Stay home!

And since coronavirus doesn’t care if you’re a Democrat or Republican, this is a fight we must make together.

©2020 Marsha Mercer. All rights reserved.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Joe Biden's fun times -- March 10, 2013 column


By MARSHA MERCER

At the annual Gridiron Club dinner put on by Washington journalists Saturday night, a singer portraying Joe Biden bragged about the tough jobs he has tackled as vice president.

“I’m not Barack! I am Joe Biden,” he sang to the tune of “I am a Rock.” He’ll serve President Obama’s second term, the Biden character proclaimed. “Not gonna wait til two-thousand sixteen.”

Don’t let anyone tell you “There are no second acts in American lives.” F. Scott Fitzgerald, who wrote that puzzling line, never knew Joe Biden.

Biden is on track to be one of the most influential vice presidents in history. And, no, that’s not damning with faint praise.

It’s a great time to be Joe Biden.

While the boss’s position was still “evolving,” Biden said on NBC’s “Meet the Press” in May that he himself was “absolutely comfortable” with gay marriage. Nudged, Obama came around a few days later, electrifying gay supporters.
  
After the Newtown massacre, Obama turned to Biden to explore gun control efforts. While prospects are dim of much action on Capitol Hill, Biden has kept gun control advocates allied with the president.  
And it was Biden who rescued the nation from the fiscal cliff. Drawing on his four decades in Washington, Biden negotiated a deal with Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., just hours before the Jan. 1 deadline.

No second acts? By proving his own worth as Obama’s right-hand man, Biden’s own star is rising as a leading presidential contender in 2016. Not bad for a guy who had to abandon his 1988 presidential quest amid charges that he had plagiarized other politicians’ speeches.
   
A video surfaced showing parts of Biden’s campaign speech and parts of a speech by British Labor Party leader Neil Kinnock. Biden insisted that he’d failed to attribute the passages to Kinnock only that once, but reporters uncovered similarities with other politicians’ speeches and an unfortunate F in law school for plagiarism. 
 
Voters had all but forgotten that unpleasantness by 2008, when Biden ran again for president. This time he made news by saying what he actually thought about another Democratic contender.

“You got the first mainstream African American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy,” Biden told an interviewer in January 2007. “”I mean that’s storybook, man.”

In Washington, saying what you think is a gaffe, and Biden is a gaffe machine. He’s a character – a boisterous, deal-making politician of the old school who loves to hear himself talk. Obama obviously didn’t hold a grudge, and Biden’s loose lips never seem fatal
.
Biden has known great personal tragedy. He was 29, married with three little kids when he was elected to the Senate in 1972. Weeks later, just before Christmas, his wife and one-year-old daughter were killed in a car crash in Delaware. His young sons, Beau, 4, and Hunter, 3, survived with serious injuries. Biden was on Capitol Hill that afternoon, interviewing potential staffers.

In his shock and grief, Biden planned to give up his Senate seat and return home, but he was persuaded to keep his job. He took the official oath in his sons’ hospital room and began the daily Amtrak commute from Wilmington to Washington. He continued the routine for 36 years.

No second acts? Biden married Jill Jacobs in 1977, and their daughter Ashley was born in 1981.   
After decades in public life, Biden has no shortage of critics. Fox News chief Roger Ailes is quoted in a new book calling Biden “dumb as an ashtray.”

Love him or loathe him, Biden, 70, always seems to be having more fun than most people. At the ceremonial swearing-in of new senators in the old Senate chamber in January, Biden was a jovial, joking host.

“Spread your legs,” he told a new senator’s husband. “You’re going to be frisked.”

Biden’s entertainment quotient was so high that fans petitioned for a C-SPAN reality show trailing him on his daily rounds.

No second acts? Biden perseveres. He may yet have a third.

© 2013 Marsha Mercer. All rights reserved.
30