In the summer of 1989 I visited Barcelona to see a female friend. Floe was a model from Sarasota, Florida. Her apartment overlooked the Ramblas. We were attracted to each other, however she was faithful to her absent boyfriend. We slept in the same bed without touching. It was a very frustrating experience. One afternoon we went to a city beach. We didn’t go swimming, because countless dead cats floated in the sea. I asked the cabana attendant why.
“The radio announced that you can get AIDS from cats. So now we have ‘gatos de la mar’.”
The government later reassured the fearful citizenry that cats were not responsible for the spread of HIV. The reassured populace resumed their normal level of paranoia and refrained from drowning homosexuals, hemophiliacs, and Haitians, the first vectors of the AIDS epidemic. At the time I suspected these groups would either resist to strenuously or else were too heavy to throw into the Mediterranean.
This last week a similar panic developed after scores of Mexico City residents fell sick with the swine flu. Over a hundred died and government officials rightly responded to the crisis by ordering the public to remain at home. Schools were closed and football games were played without any spectators. Their rapid reaction seemed to work, although the American media whipped their TV viewers into a panic with 24/7 coverage of the deadly breakout.
“Hundreds of people are dead in Texas.” A young woman said at Famous Dave’s Ribs in Des Moines.
“That’s not true.” The only death reported in the USA was a Mexican who sought treatment in Texas. My explanation fell on deaf ears. The young woman was adamant in her opinion. American believe everything if it comes from the TV. “Okay, maybe hundreds are dead in Texas, but I heard of a case of zombie flu in Arizona.”
“Zombie flu?” Her eyes widened in horror having seen the full range of living dead movies while dating high school boys.
“Yes, the dead are walking the earth again.”
“That’s not funny.”
“And not true either.”
I bought her a drink. A shot of tequila calmed her nerves. Her name was Stephanie. Her boyfriend was waiting at home. My hotel was across the road. She didn’t respond to my mentioni of this information. She was a good girl. I order BBQ pig ribs. I’m more scared of mad-cow disease than swine flu.
Zombies too.