Relatively
speaking, we are not all in this together, in the same boat or up the same
creek, and brother, if you think that, you may want to reconsider that actually
we’re all in the same barrel, like a barrel of fish that covid19 is getting set
to shoot into, knocking us off one at a time. As our esteemed experts have told us, it’s
time to duck and cover because, it’s not as if
we’re all gonna catch this virus, it’s just a question of when. We will all get it to some degree
and as we read and hear, some of us will get it so bad that we wind up as a
smiling photo on the obit page. We’ve been hit below the waterline. “Mortality
is now the wallpaper in the room” as Tom Piazza would say.
So
what do we do? We self quarantine to ‘flatten the curve’; we do this so that we
give our overworked healthcare system a chance to get those most immediate
cases taken care of so that they’re not overcrowded when our time comes should
we get that bad, Lord knows, there’s others in that line ahead of us that need
care. If we’re lucky at all we will only experience a mild smack down, a mere
medical mugging. If we’re lucky.
We
make some semblance of our life in lockdown, we limit our exposure, wear masks,
wash our hands constantly, disinfect items that are going to be inside our
sanctuaries and then we sit back and wait as if the ‘all clear’ sirens of the
planet are going to wail. “Ollie Ollie oxen free!” “Come out, come out,
wherever you are!”
Good
self shut-ins do many things similar. We stay up just a little bit later. We sleep
in later with some degree of guilt. We make coffee, tea, smoothies, and feed
the cat, walk the dog, shower, shave and put on clean underwear. We clean our
domiciles to a fault and because there’s not much else we can get away doing
early in the day, we sit on our porches with a cup of something, an old
newspaper, book or magazine and wait for someone to pass by so that we can wave
and say hello; people all over the neighborhood use their dogs as an excuse to
get out of the house and walk about, some forget to take the dog.
We
wash dishes, make the bed and wonder what we’re gonna do with that ten pound
bag of potatoes that we panic shopped; every time we use the bathroom we check
our supply of toilet paper, hand soap and no bath towel goes unlaundered. We
care about other people and wonder how the less fortunate are making out now
that the bills keep coming in. We panic and call the bank to make sure that at
least we are still semi-solvent. We check our email, FaceBook and intsagram and
wonder what will be on our menu today. Will we finally perfect that grilled
cheese sandwich? We try again to get through to the unemployment folks. We wait
for word that someone we know hasn’t bought the farm. We don’t use the word
‘Die’. We take naps, baths and disdainfully watch our muscle tone disappear.
Objectively,
we’re happy as clams; think, all this time to do whatever we want to do, except
what we’ve all been doing before this pandemic struck the world like a plague.
Now, we can read, cook, catch up with mail and bills and learn the words to
Funky Cold Medina. We can take pictures of inane subjects and post them for the
world to see: our cat’s hairballs, our disastrous attempts at cooking, our
selfies making funny faces and outdated photos of our families. At times we
share a notice of another person’s passing. We’re essentially bored as sh*t. It
helps if you’re quarantined with another biped or at the very least a critter,
they act as a sounding board, someone to share meals, perspectives, chores and a
warm blooded comfort with; it’s reassuring to see more movement in the place
besides the desk top and/or the ceiling fan. There are those people that on a
good day that professes not to be telly watchers, but I tell you this, without
the one in our house we would be a couple of snapping turtles.
We
tune in to our daily dose of evening news on three channels drinking coffee and
having a homemade cookie or two. We have a ‘Happy Hour’ on the bed with the
critters with cold beer and potato chips and we stream entertainment on the
smart TV with dinner and drinks. Then it’s time to walk the cur, have a
nightcap on the porch, make some hot tea and read until bedtime, we sleep
(perchance to dream) wake up and do it all again. Sometimes we plan an outing
for the early afternoon. Tomorrow we’re gonna clean under the refrigerator. We
don’t mention our phantom symptoms.
At
home, social distancing takes on a whole new meaning, double digit days self
quarantined together can be exhausting; it’s a thin line between selflessness
and selfishness and a fluctuation between hugging and hiding. Know when to seek
solace and when to seek solitude. The need for understanding, patience and
respect for personal space has never been greater. Do things in tandem but
don’t forget to charge your own batteries.
Now here's your motivational mantra: This
is a once in a lifetime experience, we’re up against the ropes; we can come out
of this chumps or champs, there’s no such thing as “we’ll get ‘em next round”
This is the telling round. Let’s collectively bring out the champs within us. Do the right thing.
1 comment:
What a great find! in day umpteen thousand of the quarantine. Your day and night sound eerily like mine, sans cur. I found you through googling the origins of Gospel Tent at Jazz Fest and what you wrote was so good I copied and pasted the article in its entirety into my novel as your writing is potent and bang on! http://phillamancusa.blogspot.com/2017/07/gospel-tent.html
It will be hard not to plagiarize as I'd written "golden gowns" and then found you wrote "four glorious goldenrod gowned..." Hats off, Sir. That's beautiful. I will read more of your work with that nightcap on the front porch. To the present!
Christine Maynard
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