Last year around this time, Nicole and I had some time off and listed ourselves on a Scandinavian flight to Copenhagen. We had plans to go see Norway and the Northern Lights. It never happened. Nicole very suddenly got sick and we canceled everything. We had two weeks off from work commitments, but it was almost entirely used for recovery. At the tail end of our days off, and as Nicole was feeling better, we drove to Palm Springs to try and salvage some semblance of a “vacation.”

I did not know how important that trip was to be. One month later, the country shut down. International flights were virtually nonexistent. We would not travel anywhere for another six months. But for that brief couple days in Palm Springs, we were blissfully ignorant of what was looming on the horizon. And so here I am, roughly one year later on a rare overnight working for the airlines.

Fortunately I have not had many overnights since this all began. It was the first time I had to pack a suitcase in some time, but I was looking forward to seeing Palm Springs again. Our flight arrived late at night, but I would have most of the following day to relax.

Needless to say, things were different this time around. The nearby Sherman’s Deli was open for outdoor seating, but I opted for carry out. Then I went on a hike up the nearby Skyline Trail. It required more rock scrambling than I anticipated. I did not have the best pair of shoes for the job, so I turned back about a third of the way up the mountain. I did get some views of the city below, however.

The state had recently allowed most businesses to reopen and it looked like people were making up for lost time. The streets were quite busy. Bars were packed at 11am. The clientele appeared to be trashy, boisterous, Trumpian types in large groups— taking full advantage of not requiring a mask while eating or drinking. I presumed they were there all day.

The hotel pool area was also open, but with temps in the mid 60s, it wasn’t exactly hot. I did, however, see some snowbirds enjoying the “warm” weather out by the pool. While Palm Springs one year ago was a relaxing respite in the desert, Palm Springs 2021 had me a bit on edge.

With almost an entire year of pandemic protocols under our belts, it seems some people still don’t understand the rules. Or perhaps they simply have been digesting copious amounts of right wing propaganda and think they have some constitutional right to be a weasel fart. Why is there a woman charging off the elevator at me with no mask? Why are there people on busy sidewalks with no masks? You can’t use the excuse that you “forgot it” anymore. It’s been a year. At this point anyone forgetting a mask is just as likely to forget to put on pants.

Somewhat ironically, these maskless rat turds are probably going to get the vaccine before me because they’re selfish as F. If you already don’t care about anyone else, you would have no problem cutting the line or lying about some underlying condition in order to get that little jab in the arm. Mind you, it’s a vaccine for a virus that for months these same people were likely ranting on facebook that it wasn’t any worse than the flu.

While I have been dubbed “essential” since the onset of the pandemic, I am not essential enough to be getting the vaccine anytime soon. I am exposed everyday to germs, captains who share conspiracy theories with me (and don’t wash their hands after using the bathroom), anti-maskers, noses out half-maskers, slow Starbucks-sippers, and folks who don’t realize you can talk on the phone without removing your mask. These are not isolated things; I see these things every day I enter the airport. Unlike teachers or office workers, or many other professions that have an option to work from home, we do not have that luxury as flight crew. So with a year gone by since Nicole was last sick, it’s only a matter of time before I give her some other variant I’ve picked up at work. It’s a very frustrating set of circumstances, and I feel my company, city, and country have all let me down in spectacular fashion.

I am not exhausted due to the early wake ups or the long days. I am exhausted from a year of having to deal with incompetence, negligence, selfishness, and arrogance. It is very mentally taxing. When the flight deck door closes, we as pilots remove our masks. This is due to communication issues over the radios. So for 4 hours or 7 hours or 12 hours a day, I am sitting next to someone whose daily habits are unknown to me. I don’t know who they’ve been with or what they’ve been doing. They do however give me clues when they say things like, “The China virus,” “It’s all about government control,” and “I’m going to hang out with all my Navy buddies after this.” These are all things I’ve heard in the last week alone. These same people are then maskless and breathing on me (and talking loudly because they don’t know volume control) for hours as we touch the same set of buttons. One incident last week had me legitimately worried that I went and got another covid test.

The point is this. I feel that we as flight crew have real concerns that are falling on deaf ears. As Q-anon believers are getting the vaccine, this country has really demonstrated who it thinks are important or shall we say “essential” and who are not. To paraphrase George Orwell, some people are just more “essential” than others. Those that are quiet, follow the rules, and wait patiently get left behind. But if you’re loud enough, people will pay attention to you even if your demands are unethical or morally wrong. In America, being quiet is weakness. I should know. Brian’s my name and being quiet is my game, and it hasn’t gotten me any favors in life. In spite of the many setbacks honesty and integrity has afforded me in the greatest country in the world, I shall continue my fruitless attempts at following the rules. I’ll report back when I get my vaccine sometime in August.