We are totally socially distanced and do not leave the house except for our morning walk. The walking neighbors, who formerly came closer to chat, now move away. Both the humans and the puzzled canines miss their pet-and-greet, but we all must do our part, apart.
I am a faithful and frequent hand washer. So much so that the top of my hands feel and look like parchment and I am hoarse from singing “Happy Birthday” so often. I slather on hand cream but soon have to wash again according to the rules. Why doesn’t someone invent sanitizer with hand cream or hand cream with sanitizer. A rose of Bulgaria scent, please.
Our groceries are delivered. We always obey the rule of sanitizing all foreign objects brought into the house. Wash hands, wipe all containers and cans with sanitizing wipes before shelving, wash all fruits and vegetables in the sink before putting them away, hope no virus lives on anything, wipe counters where any object touched down, wash hands again.
My self-imposed rule is to contact those friends or family I have not been in touch with recently. At least six each day by phone or email. These are pleasant tasks much healthier than staring out the window wondering when we will no longer be housebound.
The only rule I have trouble following is “Do not touch your face!” I understand its importance but often find myself inadvertently breaking the rule. How does one put on glasses and hearing aids without touching one’s face or coming damn close? What do I do when my face has an itch or there is a bit of food between my teeth or hair blows across my face? When we handle (no pun intended) a runny nose with a tissue is that touching our face? I take no chances so I wash my hands and empty the trash.
Makeup is a thing of the past for me as it accentuates the wrinkles, but I am an Arizonan who needs moisture so I wash my hands before applying moisturizer and lip gloss. Then I wash my hands again. Put hand cream on the list. Better buy two.
Pleasure is possible. Zoom and FaceTime are my life lines. Just yesterday I saw my grandson, now approaching 8, play “Fur Elise” for me on the piano. Thank you Joshua, Beethoven and Elise. You made my day.
For many years we held an annual family reunion, often on a luscious tropical beach. This ritual ended when everybody became too busy to attend. But we have just set up a virtual family reunion. Everyone on the same screen will be a wonderful substitute for a beach.
But how I long to see my loved ones in person again. I want to see them as they are, no longer framed by a square or rectangular screen. I confess to being one of those “people who need people” like Barbra Streisand. I miss those now forbidden hugs and group gatherings.
We miss concerts and movies where we share the event with other people. Playing CDs and streaming at least one movie a night is keeping us sane but I long for live music in a hall and watching a movie in a theater. Like all of you out there, I am a social mammal, genetically programmed to live in groups.
I will be able to keep my brain from dissolving thanks to the Humanities Seminars Program. These courses, like all those at the University of Arizona now, will be given online. Go to hsp.arizona.edu to get information about the summer classes. Online registration begins May 11. Learning new things is an antidote to being in jail, I mean housebound.
How strange to have all this time on my hands. I always thought I would tackle big projects “when I had time.” This was a life-long illusion. I have plenty of time now but not much motivation. I read a lot: two daily newspapers, a bunch of magazines. Strangely, for a while I did not read books because I had trouble concentrating but I am back to reading.
Interesting that for me (and several others I talk to) the isolation gets harder not easier, probably because we cannot yet see a realistic endpoint. Our world has changed. I am not foolish enough to think it will ever return to what it was. Too many deaths, too many jobless people, and a jolting look at the magnitude of our inequality. I admit to some sad thoughts that I am too old to see what our new world will be, let alone help to shape it.
Then serendipity happened and I had an epiphany (always wanted to use those two words in one sentence!). The New York Metropolitan Opera house went dark before the end of the season like concert halls and theaters all over the world. The Met Opera, as it is known, did something quite wonderful and creative. They whipped up a four-hour worldwide gala of opera moments streamed live to its subscribers and donors. General Manager Peter Gelb and Music Director Yannick Nezet-Seguin asked Met singers isolated in their own homes to prepare a song of their choice and set up the best audio system they could. Quite a job to do the logistics and time zones. Gelb told the audience at the start he knew the singing would be great but the sound quality less so.
I sat enthralled at my computer for four hours, weeping a bit when I listened to a familiar aria. I loved being able to see the singers in leisure wear and peek at the artists’ homes. We are indeed one world, small enough to both start a world-changing pandemic in a few weeks and to enjoy music together with people halfway around the globe. I felt optimistic that somehow the combination of art and technology would triumph.
My epiphany? Imperfect technology and imperfect humanity together can and should unite to make a better world. Both can become better, especially us people. How? Support good education, deal with world and national inequality, provide health care for all, fund scientific research to conquer diseases like COVID-19, and change our lifestyles to heal and preserve our planet. Let’s go for it ASAP.
Longtime Tucson bar sold, to be redeveloped
