Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 30 Lockdown
Saturday, April 25: SA Lockdown Day 30; C&K Quarantine Day 15
We are officially out of quarantine. Two weeks ago, yesterday, we arrived back in US.
Weird how being in Lockdown feels routine, normal sort of . . . in such an abnormal way… We’re all zooming, chatting with folks we never chatted with before, making friends with strangers—connected via shared separation. Or are we connecting because at 6-feet apart it’s safe? There’s a hook…
Worldwide: 2.8 million confirmed CoVid cases; more than 197,000 people have died.
Reminds me of how back in the days when were flew three-across-share-the elbow-rest we’d avoid talking to row mates entire hours-long flights until, in those finite minutes between wheels-down and exodus the plane would erupt in happy houresk chatter while everyone exchanged cheery “where you headed?” “Is this home for you?” “Enjoy your day!” chit-chat. There was a hook…
We’d go to serious lengths to limit conversation. A friend proudly relayed how on Southwest Flights (without unassigned seats), after shimmying into a window seat she’d casually “leave” a crumpled tissue on the seat beside her to dissuade would-be seatmates. Imagine the terror said tissue would strike now? I feigned sleep—including slack jaw and when necessary drool in demand. I wonder now, how I’d act?
It’s a push me-pull you: At the same time we’re ordering designer facemasks—Should Facemasks Be A Fashion Statement?—and signature sanitizer (here’s a recipe—add your own scent), we’re already lamenting the “good-ole days” of crowds & grand gatherings—wondering if we’ll ever get to cram thousands into a stadium—or even hundreds at a wedding again. Will tots of today get to rock shoulder-to-shoulder in a million-lipped hiss of Bu-bu-bu-Benny-and-the-jetssssssssss?
The New York Times recently solicited snippets of readers/viewers pre-pandimic memories and received over 700 submissions from around the world. Here’s the link.
A season or so ago, the New York Times launched a column called Modern Love, featuring personally essays of sweet-meets, etc. which spun into a podcast and then series. If you need some feel-good viewing, click on. Here’s the Modern Love trailer.
And now, capitalizing or sense of time rushing—and standing still—and impermanence the NYT has branched out into flash essays—100 words or less, called—bite-sized snippets in tumultuous times and love stories. If you have one, submit yours here Tiny Love Stories. Or, if, like me, it feels good to know what’s going on “over there” because I’m so over what’s happening “in here,” read on. And here’s the link to more:
“Will the Dishwasher End Us?
Big fight today before grocery shopping about the proper way to load knives into the dishwasher. A small yet pivotal moment in our shelter-at-home lives. Do we cause a scene in the Trader Joe’s line? Do we forgo collaboration on the grocery list? It’s drizzling, gray. The people behind us are a little too close. He’s wearing the jacket that my father gave him. I laugh, pull him toward me, say, “This is the dumbest fight I’ve ever been in.” He nods, kisses me. If we have to be stuck, at least we’re stuck together. — Madison Olivieri”