When Kevin Stitt was elected governor of Oklahoma, having just come out of the bad dream that was the troublesome Mary Fallin, little did we know about the absolute nightmare we were about to enter the moment he was sworn into office.
As his family gathered around together to celebrate the season and take this year’s celebratory photograph, many Oklahoma families wouldn’t be as fortunate – the Center for Disease Control and Johns Hopkins University had just listed Oklahoma as the worst state in America for Covid deaths, with 248 per 100,000 people.
It might not seem like a lot, but when it finally hits someone you love, you’ll realize that demographics don’t matter anymore.
Instead of, like a responsible leader, trying to combat this evil problem, Stitt not only got the only doctors he trusts—his spin doctors—on the story claiming it was all falsified nonsense, but doubled-down and said that, despite the Omicron variant sweeping the country clean, he will no longer be receiving any more boosters because he’s (supposedly) had Covid and his doctor is, you know, cool with it.
My mom uses that same interminable excuse.
Despite (apparently) coming down with Covid last year, she believes that not only is she now immune, but her power-upped system is now rival to that of Jesus Christ, or, even better, Kevin Stitt. To hear her sing his praises of his physical well-being, you don’t really know just how bad he’s brainwashed this state and the people in it until it hits home and there’s nothing you can do about it.
I went over to my brother’s in Norman for Christmas Eve. I couldn’t enjoy myself; every time I looked at my mom, all I could imagine was cinematically standing over her grave this time next year, blaming myself for not being “good enough” to save her life; it’ll thoroughly ruin Christmas for the rest of my life, I’m sure.
Death is bad, but the families that are left behind are the ones that will suffer even worse; knowing that begging and pleading wasn’t enough to get a pair of shots because you weren’t an elected official with an R in front of your name is what can metaphorically kill you inside; I guess if you have someone that doesn’t care about themselves, let alone those around them, the best you can do is mentally write them off as already dead.
I guess what I’m trying to say is harden your heart now, people. These anti-vaxxers know the cost and refuse to pay the fee; they’ll hold Stitt up as a golden calf until their time comes and they’re in a hospital bed hooked up to a ventilator. I sincerely hope Stitt shows up and says hello as your gasping for your last gulps of oxygen.
As for Stitt, he’s up for reelection soon. While I’d like to say that, in this election, we’ll take him down for good, the truth is Oklahoma is a state that likes to stick a finger in a light socket over and over again, getting madder and madder each time but never once stopping—and I mean that on both sides.
Welcome to 2022. We’ll never change, and we’ll never learn our lesson, but at least we'll be among the first to die.
Follow Louis on Twitter at @LouisFowler and Instagram at @louisfowler78.