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Could the key to ending the pandemic be as easy as booking everyone a trip to Hawaii?

This spring, my family and I have made a plan to go to two Hawaiian islands.

We’ve already purchased plane tickets, paid for all of our accommodations up front, reserved multiple rental cars, booked a couple of snorkeling tours, and even pre-paid for parking at the airport.

But it’s still just a plan.

In order for us to execute our plan, we will need to take a COVID test that produces a negative result within 72 hours of our departure from the mainland. If one of us tests positive, we can pretty much say aloha to our family trip — because if one of us tests positive, by order of the Hawaiian government, that person will be barred from getting on the airplane. And in that case, of course, none of us would go.

All this is to say: I’m worried about getting COVID right now.

I honestly don’t think I’ve been this worried about getting COVID at any other time during the pandemic. Which doesn’t make a ton of sense, since my whole family has been vaccinated.

In fact, when I first got the Johnson & Johnson shot at Johnson C. Smith University in mid-March, I felt like I’d rounded third base and was headed for home. I didn’t seek out crowded dance parties, but after the two-week waiting period was up, I ate inside a restaurant, I shook the hand of a man who I was writing a story about, and I caught a flight to Philadelphia so I could hug my parents for the first time in over a year.

And early on, I kept thinking to myself, As more and more people get vaccinated, case numbers and hospitalizations and deaths will go down, and by the time we go to Hawaii, all we’ll have to do is show our vaccine cards.

Well, more and more people have gotten vaccinated (though not nearly enough),and case numbers and hospitalizations and deaths have gone down in some parts of the country (though not nearly enough), but over the past few weeks it’s become clear that Hawaii isn’t going to budge on its guidelines before we are supposed to take our trip.

As a result, over the past few weeks, things that I thought would not be concerning to me anymore have concerned me.

Because — while my risk has certainly decreased markedly, and while fully vaccinated individuals are rarely contracting COVID — you just never know. Scientists are still learning how well vaccines prevent you from spreading the virus that causes COVID-19, and how effective they are against new variants.

But scientists have established that vaccinated people who are in proximity to those who are unvaccinated face a higher risk of infection. To steal a line from McClatchy reporter Katie Camero: “It’s like tanning; the more time spent under the sun, the greater your chances of getting sunburned.”

So I’ve taken to wearing a mask more again. Just in case. I’ve taken to trying to stay six feet apart from others again. Just in case. I find myself avoiding crowds and poorly ventilated spaces again. Just in case.

And I’m washing my hands every time I pass a sink again.

Just in case.

An incentive to get vaccinated?

It’s both humiliating and fascinating to consider the rationale for this renewed vigilance. Pre-vaccination, my motivation for wearing a mask and practicing social distancing was trying to keep myself and those around me healthy. Post-vaccination, my behavior as it pertains to the pandemic has become incentivized.

Now, I know there’s been talk about giving people who are hesitant about the vaccines an incentive to get vaccinated — and in some cases it’s actually more than just talk. For example, West Virginia Gov. Jim Justice announced last month that state residents aged 16 to 35 who get vaccinated will receive $100 savings bonds.

The thing is, it’s becoming pretty clear that lots of people don’t want to get the shots, and experts say that’s going to make it unlikely the U.S. will reach herd immunity.

I have another idea, though, to deal with people who are opposed to the vaccine, and who would be wary of being paid to get it. Why don’t we just reward them for testing negative for COVID?

In other words, what if we told an unvaccinated person that they could earn an all-expenses-paid vacation to Hawaii just by testing negative before the trip? If they agree to the conditions, do you think that in the days or weeks beforehand they would be just a little more likely to wear a mask, to stay six feet apart, and to avoid crowds?

I do. I mean, we can argue all day long about politics and COVID and vaccines and conspiracies, but a COVID test is a COVID test and, hey, a free trip to Hawaii is a free trip to Hawaii. Even if you don’t believe in COVID, I think in this case you try to play the odds.

It is of course a ridiculous idea with, quite obviously, no hope of ever being taken seriously. (Although for the record, in order for it to be a proper experiment, we’d probably need applicants to produce several negative COVID tests over a period of several weeks — and everyone “playing” would need to “play” at the same time.)

But my point is not for that idea to be taken seriously. My point is ...

You know, actually, I don’t have a point so much as I have both an observation and a question.

The observation: It’s taken the prospect, however slim, of losing out on a long-awaited family vacation to Hawaii to get me to reassert my dedication to preventing the spread of the virus, to be reacquainted with the idea of letting your guard down having consequences, and to be reminded that this thing ain’t over yet.

The question: What will it take to get others to stay vigilant till we’ve really and truly stamped this thing out?