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April 1 marks the beginning of the fiscal year, in government and probably in a lot of private sector organizations besides. Twenty years ago, when I was working in a federal government library, we had a New Year's party for the Information Management branch, which included a lot of techie types as well as records managers and library personnel. We were all presented with goofy T-shirts reading something like "We conquered the bug!" in both official languages. The bug in question, of course, was the one that threatened to give the computers of the government (and indeed the entire country and the world) a collective nervous breakdown (and lots of viruses too) when the calendar year clicked over from December 31, 1999 to January 1, 2000 - in whatever time zone you happened to be in.
It was a very big deal at the time but in the end, it went surprisingly smoothly (unlike, say, the Phoenix Phiasco). Sadly, the Covid 19 bug looks to be a bit more intractable than the year 2000 bug.
One crisis arising today is the plight of tenants with insecure incomes, employment and health situations who are quite simply incapable of scraping up enough money to pay their rent for the next month, let alone the month after that. Some are advocating for a rent strike and of course, rent relief is certainly necessary for these folks. On the other hand landlords, especially the small-time ones, need a source of income too, both to sustain themselves and their families and also to maintain their tenants' property.
As retirees with stable incomes, we're okay. But today has a personal significance for me as well. It was exactly fourteen years ago today that my mother died (and yes, she had already paid her April rent for her room at the retirement residence). She was 87. As awful as this may sound, I am actually rather relieved that she is not with us today. Far better for her, I feel, for her to have slipped away peacefully in her room with two of her three daughters by her bedside (and the third available by phone and able to fly here for a proper funeral) than to have died under pandemic conditions, likely not fully understanding why none of her family could be with her in person.
As it turned out, we did end up driving past the cemetery yesterday; I fleetingly thought of stopping, but was unsure what visiting protocols might be in place under the "new normal" that prevails these days. When we got home, we watched the latest episode of Father Brown, that took place in 1953 and concerned a choir competition. The song that was playing as the closing credits rolled? Abide with Me, a hymn that was also sung at my mother's funeral. Strange how these things play out, isn't it?
It was a very big deal at the time but in the end, it went surprisingly smoothly (unlike, say, the Phoenix Phiasco). Sadly, the Covid 19 bug looks to be a bit more intractable than the year 2000 bug.
One crisis arising today is the plight of tenants with insecure incomes, employment and health situations who are quite simply incapable of scraping up enough money to pay their rent for the next month, let alone the month after that. Some are advocating for a rent strike and of course, rent relief is certainly necessary for these folks. On the other hand landlords, especially the small-time ones, need a source of income too, both to sustain themselves and their families and also to maintain their tenants' property.
As retirees with stable incomes, we're okay. But today has a personal significance for me as well. It was exactly fourteen years ago today that my mother died (and yes, she had already paid her April rent for her room at the retirement residence). She was 87. As awful as this may sound, I am actually rather relieved that she is not with us today. Far better for her, I feel, for her to have slipped away peacefully in her room with two of her three daughters by her bedside (and the third available by phone and able to fly here for a proper funeral) than to have died under pandemic conditions, likely not fully understanding why none of her family could be with her in person.
As it turned out, we did end up driving past the cemetery yesterday; I fleetingly thought of stopping, but was unsure what visiting protocols might be in place under the "new normal" that prevails these days. When we got home, we watched the latest episode of Father Brown, that took place in 1953 and concerned a choir competition. The song that was playing as the closing credits rolled? Abide with Me, a hymn that was also sung at my mother's funeral. Strange how these things play out, isn't it?
