Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
My business is essential, at least according to DoD guidelines – our customers build the trucks your cable, power, cell phone, and sundry other utility and delivery companies use to make staying at home a bit less awful. In many respects you could say this shutdown passed us by: you cannot do manufacturing at home, engineers are next to useless after a few weeks if they lack for hardware to test, while everyone else has been needed to answer the phones, place orders, receive goods, and ship. We only had 2 people working from home during the entirety of the shutdown, and 1 person on reduced hours because daycares were basically shut. But our industrial park was otherwise a ghost town tucked behind a ghostly strip mall, with ghostly commuters on drives to work and home again.
As Ohio rapidly progressed through one closure after another, until all that was left were the “essential” businesses, everything took on an unreal character. The last weekend before the stores were largely ordered shut was, of course, the great toilet-paper panic. I was in our grocery several nights before the panic, and the only things the stores were out of were chicken broth and Combos, and that one was because they were BOGO. 4 days later the store was picked clean, except for fresh fruits and vegetables (I don’t know why kale is perfectly suitable for other uses).