MountainMornings

Some people say it’s much too personal to ask others about their vaccine status; but not me.

We decided to take one last tour of a house in Nashville yesterday. This little beauty had just come on the market, and on Redfin’s realty site you can schedule a same day tour. So Bob and I had lunch, packed up the Bride’s Frenchie puppy Watson, and headed out the door with hope in our hearts.

We are puppy-sitting this week while the Bride is vacationing with the Groom’s family. He’s a handful but an awfully cute and funny one. When he’s not racing down the fence after the ever-present dog walker, he’s chasing the birds away from our feeder.

As we pulled up to this 2,200 sq ft house, a young woman in short shorts opened the door all smiles. At Redfin you work with one real estate agent, but they have associates who only show houses and are on a payroll. We’ve met quite a few associates this summer, all young and in “transition” – one of Ada’s favorite words. Like “peculiar!”

I asked our latest Redfinner point blank, “Are you vaccinated?” Or maybe I said, “You are vaccinated, right…” with Watson in one hand and my mask in the other. She replied,

“Oh no, let me run and get my mask.”

Lucky for me Bob was already down the block checking out the neighborhood. There was a huge modern monolithic house being built two doors down and tons of lawn signs saying, “NO Richland builders!” As you probably know, city developers like to make money, so they tend to buy and demolish one old house on one lot, and put up two “tall skinnies.” Maybe Richland builders are putting up huge/mega/homes with huge/mega garage apartments for the Air BnB market?

Last month we were met by a Redfin agent, in a different part of town, who was also unvaccinated. But at least she had a reason; she said she was fresh off of chemotherapy for cancer. You just can’t argue with that. So we masked-up and walked through the prettiest Southern Victorian you’d ever see. In fact, we were outbid on that very house.

But while strolling through yet another high-ceilinged-fireplace room, this associate mentioned she was planning a trip to Ghana and she had to get a yellow fever vaccine last week. She was a smart, young woman, impeccably dressed, who could somehow live with this contradiction: YES to yellow fever – NO to Covid 19.

Yesterday, as we were leaving our last tour, Bob and I sat on the front porch swing and asked this young woman in shorts why she’s not vaccinated. I may have even said, “If you don’t mind my asking…” She answered like a politician, which is to say she didn’t answer. We pressed, was she waiting for the FDA to approve it, maybe she didn’t have time with all the animals she has rescued at home? She dodged and deflected, finally coming back with routine things about the house.

I pointed out that Bob was a real doctor, if she had any questions, any questions at all… She didn’t. She was still all smiles and nice as could be, but I was acutely aware that she was endangering me, my grandchildren, and the rest of the planet. Spoiler alert, we didn’t bid on the house but not because of her; it just wasn’t our perfectly imperfect house.

I thought about that country singer’s analogy of neighbors running with buckets of water if your house is on fire. People who refuse to be vaccinated, because they listen to Fox news and flirt with conspiracy theories, are not only voyeurs to our collective suffering. They are pouring more fuel on this fire. Don’t show me hospital confessions of people gasping for breath and begging finally for the vaccine. I don’t have the time or the inclination to watch people dying from their own stupidity or misinformation.

Oh, is that going too far, am I getting too personal?