No More Free Lunch

“There is no such thing as a free lunch,”

  nineteenth-century industrialist and philanthropist John Ruskin

physicist Ernst Ising

During America’s era of rapid industrialization saloons near factories often advertised free lunch to workers who patronized their establishment.  In 1934 Mew York mayor Fiorello LaGuardia kicked off his campaign against graft and corruption by proclaiming, “No more free lunch.”  In our time pharmaceutical companies often treat doctors’ offices to sumptuous buffets in order to pitch their newest drugs.  Big tech companies commonly provide free lunch as a perk and device to develop loyalty and camaraderie.  Despite widespread skepticism by Saturday Evening Club (SEC) members, thanks to the efforts of Larry Galler the SEC met electronically for a talk by Tom Ising introduced by the phrase, “There is no such thing as a free lunch.”   Ising began by mentioning that his father Ernst Ising (1900-1998) remains famous from developing a century ago what is known in physics as the Ising model of ferromagnetism.  The son of wealthy Jews and University of Hamburg prodigy, Ernst saw a brilliant career cut sort with Adolf Hitler’s rise to power.  Barred from teaching in 1933, he became headmaster of a school for Jewish children until forced to flee to Luxembourg in 1939 and took a series of menial jobs until the end of World War II. In 1947, after an eight-year struggle, the Ising family was able to emigrate to America. That summer seven-year-old Tom improved his English skills at Tapawingo Farm Camp in Gouldsboro, PA.  After a year in North Dakota, Ernst secured a professorship at Bradley University in Peoria.  He and his wife became naturalized citizens in 1953.

Thomas Ising’s talk was on free market economic theory and the benefits of unfettered capitalism. Afterwards, he received much pushback from the dozen or so members linked through web.zoom.  I argued that capitalists generally try to diminish competition, leading the growth of monopolies.  Income inequality, the inevitable result of unregulated capitalism, led to the Great Depression and has become even more pronounced since the 1980s.  Under Trump's crony capitalism his buddies get a free feast while the other 99% get crumbs. Mike Baird mentioned that he’d once been a Milton Friedman acolyte but that his work with nonprofits had convinced him of the need for governmental safety nets.  Several people reiterated that corporations guided by the profit motive would seek to exploit cheap labor if left unfettered and lauded social welfare states such as Finland where access to free medical care was universal. Others brought up Jean Jacques Rousseau’s social contract and the Declaration of Independence as championing of the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  As President Terry Brendel stated, “All things considered, things went much more smoothly than he expected.”

Consumed by a desire to open up the country in order to win re-election and help his business interests, Trump has squelched reports from his own experts to go slow and encouraged governors to open stores and return to business as usual.  Republican governors, including West Virginia’s Jim Justice, for the most part are obeying him even though Covod-19 deaths are still on the upswing. Outbreaks are especially worrisome at prisons, nursing homes, and meat packing plants that are reopening after Trump issued an executive order relieving companies of liability in the event that stricken employees seek legal redress.  Regarding testing, what initially seemed like incompetence on the federal government’s part now appears to be foot-dragging due to fear that widespread testing would reveal that the virus has infected many more people than would support reopening the economy. Now, as a Presidential food server and the Vice President’s press secretary have tested positive, Trump supporters are claiming that hospitals are exaggerating the numbers of casualties and things not as dire as they appear.  Dr. Anthony Fauci and two other health experts have tested positive and are self-quarantining.  “It is what it is,” as immunologist Anthony Fauci, borrowing a quote from Martin Scorcese’s “The Irishman,” is fond of putting it.

Ray Smock wrote about venturing out to Lowe’s during the pandemic in an essay titled, “Simple Tale from West Virginia, a State NOW OPEN.”

I was out of propane for my Weber. I am a 79-year-old guy in the high-risk category for many reasons, but I wanted to grill while in quarantine.

I risked going to Lowe's in Martinsburg. Propane tanks are outside the store. But I was told I needed to go in to see a cashier to get my refill tank paid for. I asked to give the credit card over the phone so I could stay outside the store. No dice. So I suited up with my mask and safety goggles and surgical gloves and went to the store.

The store had re-routed entry to one entrance so a counter could check off the people going in. I walked in the only entrance and was immediately confronted by a group of unmasked customers waiting at the return desk. They were all standing in a tight cluster. I tried to go around them. But all other aisles were blocked to route traffic in a certain direction. I squeezed by the unmasked customers coming within 2 feet of them because they were blocking the aisle.

I went to the first person I saw with a register who had no customers only to be told that I needed to go to one of the "regular" check-out lanes to pay for my propane. I walked half the length of the store passing a dozen customers not wearing masks.

The young woman at the check-out was wearing a homemade mask that kept falling off her nose. She constantly touched her face to get the mask in place.

She was a most friendly West Virginian, who called me honey. I put in my credit card and punched the keys to enter my pin. I got my receipt and exited the store. The clerk had to call someone to go out and unlock the propane tanks.  So I waited by the entrance while dozens of unmasked customers went in. The person with the key to the propane cage never showed up. Luckily for me, the propane delivery guy in a big truck pulled up. He was a very friendly guy, although unmasked. He took my empty and gave me a new canister right off the truck. He even offered to carry it to my car. I joked with him that steaks always tasted better when the propane was fresh. He had, I'm sure, heard that one before and replied, "we made this propane fresh this morning."

So it goes in Wild and Wonderful, and Wide Open West Virginia. By the way, the county in which I live and shop is a current Covid hot spot. We are the second largest metropolitan area in a mostly rural state of 1.6 million souls. Metropolitan is too big a word to describe the Martinsburg area. But the virus has no idea of what urban and rural means. It just likes people in close proximity.

A historian, Smock added: “We haven't learned a single lesson from the flu pandemic of 1918-19. Those cities and states that bit the bullet and practiced self-distancing, and quarantine, fared so much better than those who tried to open too soon.” 

More cautious than most Republican governors, Indiana’s Eric Holcomb has kept controls on Lake and Marion counties, given the alarming increase of cases in the Gary and Indianapolis areas, and recommended safety procedures regarding masks and social distancing elsewhere.  When Toni and I have gone to grocery stores or pharmacies, the vat majority of shoppers and clerks are wearing masks.  Stores have designated shopping lanes one-way and marked off six-foot distances in check-out lines.  While people flocked to Lake Michigan beaches last weekend and a few disgruntled ministers and protestors urged defiance, most Hoosiers are exhibiting common sense. Let’s hope that continues to be true.

Former Lake County sheriff Roy Dominguez dropped off “Frank Mrvan for Congress” t-shirts for Toni and me after I told him we were supporters.  He was wearing gloves and kept six feet away from me as we chatted but responded to my offer of an elbow bump.  We both agreed that the endorsement of outgoing Congressman Peter Visclosky was encouraging, given Hammond mayor Tom McDermott’s clout among county officeholders. Mrvan has the support of most labor unions and seems most likely to represent the interests of the entire Congressional district.

Scene from The Visitor

I’m a big Richard Jenkins fan after loving him in the mini-series “Olive Kitteridge” (2014) as a gentle small-town druggist and husband of the indomitable Olive.  He was a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role in “The Shape of Water” (2017). Coming across “The Visitor” (2007), for which Jenkins received an Oscar nomination playing a burnt-out professor who forms a bond with a Syrian and Senegalese immigrant couple, I was hooked.  It was a tear-jerker, and I found it incredibly moving.  If it had ended more happily, I’d have gotten Toni to watch it again with me. Roger Ebert wrote:

    Richard Jenkins is an actor who can move his head half an inch and provide the turning point of a film. That happens in "The Visitor," where he plays a man around 60 who has essentially shut down all of his emotions. A professor, he has been teaching the same class for years and cares nothing about it. He coldly rejects a student's late paper without even enquiring about the "personal problems" that made it late. He makes an elderly piano teacher figure out for herself why she will not be needed again. His lips form a straight line that neither smiles nor frown. Jenkins creates a surprisingly touching, very quiet, character study. Not all actors have to call out to us. The better ones make us call out to them.

Toni received a half-dozen Mothers Day calls and Dave’s family arrived with Chinese food at mid-afternoon. There were no hugs or kisses and separate tables for dinner, but we didn’t always observe the six-foot admonition.  It was great to have them over.  On Facebook Dave posted a photo of Toni and Angie and wrote how important Toni had been in his life.