Waxing lyrical with a big, beautiful smile or my face today, almost blinded by those lights looming large at the end of that tunnel.
I’m absolutely chuffed to bits that we have been the first nation to approve the Pfizer/BioNTech coronavirus vaccine for widespread use – and that it’s coming to Wales sooner than we can say ‘save our hospitality industry.’
Totally get that our older, more vulnerable, people will be first in the queue. Care home residents and staff, health and social care workers and the over-80s are on the starting blocks, and in my view, its damn right that they should be too.
But I‘m not going to lie to you, I’m equally excited that as an over ‘nifty at 50,’ it won’t be long before I’m rolling up my shirt sleeve and looking that saviour needle straight in the eye.
I’ve also heard that I’ll now be in line for a flu jab for the first time ever, so may find myself hastily rolling up the other side too. Typical working class me see – if it’s free, I’m having it!
Seriously though, in my view, the vaccine, is our awesome opportunity to snatch back that, largely lush, life most of us were living before we were thrust into that long, lonely, Lockdown way of living that has been, quite frankly, brutal.
The loss of lives and livelihoods, the dire disruption of our kids’ education, the massive mental health explosion, the care home crisis, the missed medical diagnoses, and the absolute absence of any sort of social scene – apart from periodic pub trips, and Saturday supermarket shopping. What a nightmare.
I believe that it’s all about balancing the tangible Covid-19 threat, against the deep disruption it causes to our educational, medical, and social fabric – a state of play that has been deeply divisive for us a country, and as a nation.
It has exposed the economic and racial inequalities rife in our society, and shown the harsh truth of how your life chances can be so blatantly based on where you live, or the colour of your skin.
My respect to those who take the difficult decisions, the key workers who keep our country going (and I don’t just mean the so sacred NHS), the millions who play the game of ‘hands, face, space’ to stay safe, and the valiant volunteers who often go over and above to keep their communities cohesive.
Let’s give a shout out too to those smashing scientists who worked tirelessly around the clock to try to give our soul-tired society a glimmer of hope.
For me, if an easily effective, super safe vaccine with an extremely rare risk of any sort of side effects comes along to blitz the bleak and barren backdrop of the queer quarantine, then what’s not to love.
Yeah, yeah, I know what some might say, and that’s the usual rallying cry of not knowing what’s in it blah, blah, blah. But as someone sagely pointed out to me the other day, no one really has a Scooby what’s in our sausages do they, but we still eat them anyway.
Also makes chuckle that the keyboard warriors who keep mooting this mantra can never hand on heart say that they know exactly what is in everything they have constantly consumed – legally or illegally.
I was literally laughing out loud at this one, “I have a Facebook pal from the old days in my pub screaming about “am not taking a vaccine, you don’t know what’s in it” – this is the same guy who used to buy ecstasy pills off a one eyed guy called Ganga Gary.
Thanks for that @JaneyGodley.
Mind you, it’s pertinent to point out here, that vaccination is not mandatory you can take part in the attempt to kick start our knackered nation, or sit it out on the side lines – your call.
Call me controversial, which you will amongst other things I expect, but I’m also happy, once the deed is done, to have a valid vaccination identification card tucked neatly in my little leopard-print purse.
For me, this is a necessary evil especially if rumoured plans for sports stadiums, cinemas, concert halls and other of my fabulous favourite venues to demand proof of that pandemic prick are true.
If I have to flash a piece of plastic to live my life normally again then I’m up for it – please come back to me, my lovely life of the pre-Coronavirus world all is forgiven
I can’t cope without culture. I ache for my arts, crave for my cinema, and must have my live music soon.
Truth be told, I’m so stir crazy I’m even fondly reminiscing the halcyon days of the sly smack in the head, the flying pints of pee, and singing badly to Morning Glory with all those lairy louts at the gorgeous Liam Gallagher Gigs.
I miss that – and enough to hop along to the health centre as soon as my vaccination letter lands on the mat.
Taxi for Jones.
Sue Vincent-Jones, writing as Mrs SVJ, is a Barry born journalist, editor, and communications specialist. She blogs about Barry – and her life in the wider world, through the eyes of a, quirky and queer, local girl done good.
Sue’s Views is the reboot of her much-loved infamous B&D opinion column from back in the day. Also recently resurrected in Style Of The City Magazine, it focuses on the hot topics we are all talking about in beautiful Barry, and beyond – the good, the bad…and the ugly.