Back in the old days the biggest challenge in life was getting the jacket off a clove of garlic with wet hands.
The old days were before March 1.
Seven weeks later, we’ve all had to go cold turkey on habitual activities and learn to be thrilled with new ones.
It’s so strange that whenever we thought about how rapidly our world could change, it had to do with a New Madrid-quality earthquake or Yellowstone blowing up or a meteor turning left instead of right. It simply didn’t register that human illness could spread like a clueless tornado.
Hugs, handshakes and public assemblies are now a No-No. Mask wearing is standard procedure, meetings are in pajamas, alcohol sales are up for those least likely to enjoy it in sips, and the only thing that’s normal is seeds sprouting out of dirt. Where there were clods and worms last week there are baby scallions and kale this week, a miracle that doesn’t require freedom.
What’s changed isn’t so much restrictions as it is attitude.
Corporate media, the big ones, are as insistent about presenting their view of the world as advertisers and public taste will allow. Yes, advertisers drive the media limo and public taste rides shotgun, and, yes, we all need brain masks to watch the news.
This emotional Taser we’ve all been stunned with is indiscriminate. Viruses probably don’t care about our religion, politics, family tree or addictions. It’s hard for us to deal with something that doesn’t care, it goes against the high we felt when we first smiled and someone smiled back.
So, we wear a mask when we go to the grocery and don’t get weirded out by those who don’t wear one. We have more time to ourselves now, and it would be sillier than ever to judge, argue, persuade or threaten others to do as we do – too time consuming.
Every one of us living on Earth gets 86,400 seconds a day. We can’t bank or trade them, they’re just ours to have. We can use them how we want or how others want to us to. Either way, they are personally ours, and someday, with any luck, they’ll turn into an eternity of thought.
But first we have to deal with these little rubber suits we wear, our bodies.
To be panicky that something will happen to our bodies is a no-win. Of course we don’t want to hurt. We don’t want diseases. We don’t want wrinkles, paralysis, zits or dementia. But we have those things. And we cope, we respond, we stand in solidarity with the body we were issued until it decides to move on.
Why would we invite an invisible speck of contaminated air to slide into the bottom of our lungs and start a family? We wouldn’t. But fear of the Virus Family moving in makes us forget the manners, commandments and methods of living a good life we were taught. We’re spending extra time fighting about how to react to something we don’t understand, and evening news divulges our bickering.
Even if you merely wonder when we’ll be able to start eating bats again, it seems we should be at the height of civility rather one-hankie drop from war with each other.
You know, we can take care of our enemies.