ISawArkansas

This is speculation at its rawest – not a quilted sales pitch or lopsided ad campaign.

It all started when I heard a tiger in the Bronx Zoo tested positive for coronavirus.

Hmmm. Betcha nobody sneezed on a tiger.

Many of us are taking precautions other than wearing masks and gloves and clothes when we’re out and about. Slippers are inside the front door so we can take off our shoes before getting fully into the house; we’re washing fewer clothes to a load and using warm water and not saying, “Whoa Betsy,” with the detergent amount. New normal.

Vitamin D-3? Check. Turmeric? Check. Magnesium? Check. Plenty of water? Check. But we do all that all the time anyway.

Last night while looking at The New York Times story, “Does My County Have an Epidemic? Estimates Show Hidden Transmission,” it was interesting that the story wasn’t very interesting. But the map was mesmerizing.

It was an imaging map of the United States, with dark red sections indicating population centers on each coast and the upper Midwest, and pink for areas that have far fewer reported cases of this meteoric scourge.

Smart people would have us believe that we’re pink because we’re not as populated as sprawling, popular cities. I wish they would just call us “less dense.”

The map was more interesting than the story because of the color code. Sure, those dark red parts of the country are cramped – beachfronts and financial centers and cultural destinations are full, full, full of people. It’s predictable that where there are more people, there are more opportunities to catch and spread disease.

This NYT map showed a pink line from eastern Montana to western North and South Dakota, down to Nebraska, Kansas, eastern Oklahoma, western Arkansas, then jumping over Dallas and Austin to west Texas. These states are like teeth in a zipper that goes straight from Canada to Mexico.

What if living on top of an aquifer is a virus clean zone? Not perfect, but also not as susceptible to the rapid spread of germs simply because of moving water beneath us. There are huge aquifers underneath that zipper.

From the data presented so far, infection is spreading rapidly through congested areas. They’re called population centers and are very good for commerce.

What if what’s underneath us is doing its best to make this virus uncomfortable, unwelcome?

We already know the healing power of water, for heaven’s sake that’s why Eureka Springs is a town. Lots of towns started because of gold, silver, coal or location to a seaport. The reason to build a town here was because of the water that healed you right up if you drank enough of it.

And this town is aces on beauty.

In the early 1900s a United States Navy physician declared it was the high radium content of the water spurting out of the ground in Eureka Springs that healed people. That was all well and good until people figured out that too much radium kicked their patootie. Radium is a healer and a killer. Ask Marie Curie.

Life is a wonderful puzzle where we keep trying to fit the right pieces into the proper order so we can make a treasure map. Something to hand down, something to guide the next seven generations. Something fun.

So, if this is true and someone wants to buy your property, sell it for information instead of gold, silver or coal. Make them pay your price.