A message to the social planners out there: while my 2020 event calendar is undeniably light to the point of being non-existent, choice weekends in 2021 are already full. There’s no getting around the fact that COVID-19 has been a social game changer. We are at Day 174 of the two-week total shutdown. The wedding I was to have attended in May, was at first pushed back to August and now will happen next August. The entire seasons of two community theatre groups pushed everything into 2021. James Taylor, Hall & Oates and other concerts I have tickets for have been postponed. Elton John, Art Garfunkel, Ringo Starr and a couple of others are moved to the “TBD/God knows when” category. And the charity I volunteer with in November and December has shelved their entire 100-show season.
It was family events that it hurt to miss more than concerts and shows, because they didn’t get makeup dates. April was always a busy birthday month and one son and granddaughter were royally gypped. Wingman, if he were alive, would also have had an April birthday, but wouldn't have been nearly as gracious as either of them. He loved his birthday and would have expected the birthday drive-by (complete with fire trucks) that have become common during the quarantine. There was also no Easter, no Easter egg hunt with the family, no big Italian Easter meal together. The only consolation was that the quarantine allowed me to win the coveted family Devilled Egg contest for the first, and probably only time. I made them, I voted, and I won.
The beginning of the pandemic was like a Bill Murray-less Groundhog’s Day. Construction was deemed essential, so every morning I breezed to work on empty streets. Before my boss arrived, I carefully wiped down door handles, light switches and bathroom and kitchen fixtures. And every afternoon I rolled my eyes behind my computer screen when he said he couldn’t understand why I couldn’t find Charmin toilet paper much less any other brand. Speaking of supplies, I became the female MacGyver figuring out where to get them. The only place selling antibacterial soap and dispensers was on a fitness equipment website. I found a distillery in Pennsylvania making hand sanitizer by the gallon to replace Purell. A veterinary supply website was the only place to buy right-size pumps for the gallon jugs. Schools and parents snagged every web camera in the United States, so I got them directly from China on eBay. If you’re ever having trouble on a scavenger hunt, I’m your gal to find the obscure stuff. Just don’t call me for Charmin.
The Corona Virus made me realize that I could never move to a country like Russia or Venezuela. I don’t have the patience to wait on lines at grocery stores only to find empty produce bins, meat counters and no cleaning supplies. Six months in, and I break the one-way aisle rule regularly because it’s stupid to walk two aisles to grab something five feet from an end.
Try walking an 128 pound dog when the new normal included not only other dog walkers, but all those new walkers, runners, bikers, and people with baby strollers trying to escape the four walls of their homes. When the parks closed, they had nowhere else to walk except our normal potty paths. So while he was busy sniffing the ground, my head was up like a prairie dog trying to avoid having my arm pulled out of its socket. We ducked between cars and zig-zagged across streets like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. Yep, a real thrill a minute minus the movie cameras and stunt doubles.
I don’t mean to make light of the pandemic. When my mom needed surgery this summer, she had to enter the hospital without any of her five children to accompany her. My next door neighbor, a train conductor, and a police detective who lives a couple of units down both had the Corona Virus and have since recovered. Three of my friends’ mothers were not as fortunate. The funerals could only be attended by immediate family and they still haven’t been able to plan memorial services. Along with them, two friends lost their husbands, and they not only had to go through this troubling time without their best friends, but can’t have the support of friends like I had when Wingman died. And let’s not even talk about the millions of people who lost their jobs.
Yet despite all the inconveniences, it hasn’t been all bad. My son used his catering skills to cook chef-quality dinners from food in the freezer. I had time to clean out the garage, then cleaned out all the closets...and filled the garage up again. At night, the neighbors would pull chairs out to the curb and we’d have socially distant get togethers. And everyone in my family has stayed healthy.
People are starting to worry about a second wave of the virus this fall. I refuse to buy into more of the Henny Penny “The sky is falling” hysteria. The only thing I do worry about is how my son is going to homeschool his kids AND work while his wife goes to her in-school teaching job.
Wait, I stand corrected-I do have one worry. What if there is a second wave and I still can’t find Charmin for my boss?
