JOHN DEMONT: Welcome to the new world of QR codes
Adopt the technology, we are told. Make him your friend and ally. Let it awaken, dare we say improve, every aspect of your life.
These are words that I do my best to live by.
Just recently, for example, I bought a Kindle and read my first book there â some outside in pitch darkness, entire chapters in bed late at night, the font magnified to the point that only a few paragraphs filled the filter.
I’ve had mixed results with my Sonos, but I thank a new platform daily that turns audio recordings into real words that I can see on a screen and turn into columns like this.
So it was with unwarranted confidence that I greeted the arrival of Nova Scotia’s new proof of vaccine application on Friday.
A QR code is a type of barcode that can be read by a digital device such as a smartphone. Nova Scotia now uses the standard Canadian proof of vaccine which features a QR code. (Original versions uploaded before October 1 are also still acceptable as proof of vaccination.) pic.twitter.com/t0FVnyTNZc
– Governor of Nova Scotia (@nsgov) 22 October 2021
As you probably know, it’s called VaxCheckNS and allows us to join forces with other provinces that are making what’s called the QR code the standard for vaccine verification across the country.
To that I say not too early, because I believe in vaccines and masks and anything that helps us all stay safe.
Except that I wondered on Friday, what exactly is a QR code?
My colleagues at the Chronicle Herald informed me that I was already using them, whenever I visited the occasional restaurant and groggery and needed to check in first, in case the plague descended while I was at the hospital. inside.
Life gets complicated in this province if we don’t have our own QR code.
To do this, all you need is a health insurance card number and an email address.
Plug them into the provincial government website. As long as you are double-vaxed, on time, a satisfactory ping will sound, indicating that your proof of vaccination, the QR code, has landed in your inbox.
I looked at mine a bit on Friday, because it’s a funny little thing that reminds me of a postage stamp version of the sight when Han Solo took the Millennium Falcon into hyperdrive.
You better keep your code. When you show up at a restaurant or tea room, the person at the door will run the new app on them.
If you are fully vaccinated, a small green hunter box will appear with a check mark and a nice “Confirmed!” “
Those who aren’t fully vaccinated – whether they just haven’t, or may not have plans to get dubbed like NHLer Evander Kane, who was suspended without pay afterwards being caught using a fake COVID vaccination card – get a different greeting: âSorry! and an accusing “Unable to Confirm”, all in a red box, at which point I imagine the fireworks will begin.
With the help of my son, I saved my QR code on my smartphone, where it is now in a place of honor with my photos of spouse, children, dog, a pile of wood that I recently put in, gnarled garlic I grew and a tiny trout I once caught.
While that seemed like a triumph enough for a day, this system, I understand, is the new normal. A dry test was necessary.
I might have strutted a bit, as arrogant as a 19-year-old legally entering a bar for the first time, as I walked up the steps of Bridgewater on Friday afternoon.
Alas, the sign on the front door only said take out, and the woman at the window told me that rather than checking immunization status, they wanted their customers to continue to “feel at home.” ‘comfortable’ for the moment.
She sent me to an establishment down the street. I opened a door saying masks were mandatory indoors and no one would have a seat without proof of vaccination.
I might have smiled a little when a masked waitress approached me. In my mind, maybe a marching band played as I pulled my iPhone out of my pocket.
Did I bloom wildly, like a magician casting a spell, sifting through the photos?
I can’t really remember. I remember, however, that when I showed her my QR code, she didn’t do anything high-tech on it.
She leaned forward until the writing stating that I had received a pair of vaccines was visible.
She asked me for an ID, proving that I was really me.
Then, to my disappointment – my shoulders as I think about it now may have slumped – she said, âInside or outside. “