Toilet Paper: A Crisis
I first became aware of the COVID-19 pandemic back in February. The national news was focused on a number of cruise ships being denied access to Asian ports of call because of widespread disease among the passengers and crew. In late February the epidemiologist Dr. Campbell was commenting on the impact of COVID-19 in Australia and New Zealand and was bemused by the announcement that the Australian Government had imposed a two roll limit on toilet paper purchases. I was dumbfounded to think that a national government could be concerned about toilet paper.
What does toilet paper have to do with COVID-19? Yet, within a week toilet paper became a subject on our national news broadcasts. Curious, on my next trip to Walmart, I headed straight to the paper products aisle. Although toilet paper was available, the name brands were gone leaving only the cheap stuff. That evening when surfing through the cable and broadcast news channels, I discovered toilet paper — or the lack thereof — was the hot topic. Panic started to impact my judgement. The next morning I arrived early at Old Saybrook’s Walmart and headed directly to paper goods to assess the situation. The shelves were empty! Six of us shoppers stood gobsmacked staring at the empty shelves. This was getting serious. With great concern, I drove to Waterford’s Walmart Supercenter, where I knew the toilet paper section to be three shelves high, five feet deep and sixty feet long. And what did I and ten seemingly like-minded shoppers see? Empty shelves. Not even a torn wrapper! A variety of utterances were heard from my fellow shoppers.
On returning home I inventoried my own household supply: Fifteen rolls still in the bulk package of thirty‑six, seven rolls in ready storage in three bathrooms, and three rolls in service. Clearly, I didn’t have an immediate crisis in my home, but how long would our supply last? Over the next two months, unbeknownst to my spouse, I monitored our home usage and came to the realization that — barring bouts of exceptional digestive distress — two adults, with no visitors, using three bathrooms, consume one roll per bathroom every two weeks.
With tongue in cheek, I earnestly offer up this home grown, unofficial study in hopes that it will prove useful in planning your way out of great TP crises of the future.
Bill Denow
Slipper Days
April 26th, 2020: Today is the beginning of the 35th day of wearing my slippers.
Now, I want to make it clear that I don’t wear them every day all day but I do wear them for the majority of each day. They are very nice slippers. No bunny ears, lamb noses or fluffy pieces on the outside at all. They are almost not really slippers. They are designed to look like moccasins, which may be possible to wear outside. They are lovely blue suede with white tie laces on the toes. And in other times I think that I welcomed the putting on of them.
These are not those times. They remain warm, cozy and welcoming yet they are undeniably slippers which are to be worn inside at the beginning or end of the day. Their function is to bookend the outside time. They are for poking around in the house getting ready to leave and later for suggesting that work time is over so now you can relax. They are for those times and by extension for times of illness only.
Other than that: No. Yet, here I am wearing my slippers again and it is now 12:38 in the afternoon. In the next hour I will put on my boots and go for the mandatory daily walk, then I will come home and put on my slippers again.
Maybe my slipper days will be over soon. Maybe my gardening boots will make their seasonal appearance and we, my boots and I, can get back into the garden. But, I am not even sure if the garden centre will be selling plants this spring. So, hello slippers, my old friends, here we are again.
Jacqueline Jaffe