Weeks Like No Other

These past few weeks have been doozies, all right. Have you been anxious? Have you been scared? Have you been frustrated? Same here. And we’re not alone.

It’s been going around – spread like wildfire by the deadly coronavirus that’s roared through our nation and our world. We were all transported into new territory – charging blindly into an unknown frontier. There was no map to guide us – not one. No one in the world – no one – could give us a clue how all of this would come out.

Yes, we were surrounded by a cacophony of chaos, and our lives were filled with words of warning. Words of dread. Words, yes, of doom. We were being asked to pull together while standing apart.

We all wanted to return to “normal,” but no one – no one – could describe what that “normal” might look like. For sure, it won’t be like the one we all thought we knew back in, say, February.

Yes, the coronavirus broke everything we knew and smashed it into a million pieces. The way we interacted with each other. The way we shopped. The way we traveled. The way we tried to get health care. The way we tried to attend church. The way we wanted to get our car repaired, or get a haircut. The way we wanted to watch sports.

Almost everything we know and care about – broken down – and broken apart – by the coronavirus.

Eventually, some of this stuff will get put back together. But not all of it, and certainly not all in the same way. Those restaurants where we all used to enjoy eating? Some will never recover.

Those department stores that still exist – like Penney’s and Macy’s? Kiss many of them goodbye. Our doctors’ offices? They may have to change the way they look, or do business.

Of course, good things can come from bad events. Maybe, just maybe, the way we conduct ourselves will change for the better. Perhaps more of us will remember not to touch our eyes or mouth or nose – even when we’re not threatened by a deadly virus.

Maybe – just maybe – more of us will remember not to carelessly or thoughtlessly sneeze when we’re inside a restaurant or church or grocery store – without covering that sneeze. Perhaps we’ll all try even harder to wash our hands when we come out of a bathroom – either at home or somewhere else – every single time.

Maybe — just maybe — we won’t even “need” to dine out as much. Maybe there will be other socialization techniques we’ll all develop. Perhaps we’ll even see more people wearing masks more often – and not just because there’s a pandemic.

Maybe – is this too much to hope for? – maybe we’ll decide to be less judgmental toward each other – and move toward being kinder.

There are always, of course, “lessons” to be learned from what we go through. Some might actually help during future catastrophes. Others might get lost under second-guessing, and the recriminations that, more and more, seem to inform our lives.

Beyond the obvious loss of life and the economic devastation we’ll endure – that last thing – the recriminations – could have the worst long-term impact because it will mean we have not learned how to “grow beyond” our current crisis.

Here’s a thought: Instead of falling back into our old, hateful political “corners” when this mess ends – and, yes, this mess eventually will end , and we eventually will get through it – why not try to work toward the common good?

Turn off those political blow-torchers and hate-throwers on cable TV – no matter what the channel – and direct your energies toward actually making life better for you, your family and your friends – so that if this “thing” comes back – or another “thing” shows up – we will have learned how to handle it better.

Of course, things are changing by the moment in the coronavirus story, as some states foolishly rush to re-open in spite of warnings by health experts that it’s too early to do so. So before I forget, I have to tell you about some of the images that burned themselves into my mind during the first weeks of our “shelter in place” orders here Out West:

**Two guys, social-distancing over coffee at an outdoor table, with a tape measure between them to make sure they stayed six feet apart. Yes, my neighbor Paul and I actually did that.

**That same Neighbor Paul, lamenting the lack of live sports programming on TV (sports were canceled, of course) and saying he was so desperate, he was watching “Building Cabins Off the Grid” on some obscure cable channel.

**Neighbor Nick, taking out his garbage, recycling and green-waste cans as I walked by. And when I said, “Practice social-distancing,” he did – moving his garbage, recycling and green-waste cans six feet apart.

**Downtown Paso Robles, virtually deserted on a Saturday afternoon – except for five or six stupid, clueless, “we’re never going to die” young people who were “frolicking” in the park, at distances much closer than six feet.

**A guy getting gas on that same Saturday afternoon at the Valero station at 24th and Spring. He got out of his car with a package of sanitizing wipes and proceeded to wipe off the gas pump with one of the wipes before using it. Yes, I really did that.

Best sight: The blue “X” marks at our nearby Food 4 Less check-out lines, each one six feet from the other to remind us all about social-distancing – and show us what six feet really looks like.

Second-best sight: KSBY-TV (San Luis Obispo) news anchors Richard Gearhart and Carina Corral, alternating “broadcasting from home” to practice social-distancing. And that indispensable weather guy – Dave Hovde – also broadcasting from home, with occasional guest appearances from his dog. Kudos to all!

And, of course, some truly creative sayings cropped up on Facebook. Among them:

**”This quarantine made me realize I have no real hobbies besides going out to eat and spending money.”

** “Self-isolation checklist (with a picture of a glass of red wine): 1. Wash your hands 2. Drink ALL the wine 3. Rinse and repeat.”

**“Alert: DUI checkpoint at the corner of Kitchen and Hallway”

** “I’m trying to practice social-distancing, but the city told me to take the barbed wire down.”

**Can we un-install 2020? This version has a virus.”

And there were also some creative social-distancing “pick up” lines on Facebook:

**“If the coronavirus doesn’t take you out – can I?”

**“Since all the public libraries are closed, I’m checking you out, instead.”

**“I saw you from across the bar. Stay there.”

**”Without you, my life is as empty as the supermarket shelf.”

And there were these words of undeniable wisdom:

**“Do not change your behavior to avoid being infected. Assume you are infected, and try to avoid transmitting it. ”

**“You’re not stuck at home, you’re safe at home. One word can change your attitude, and one cough can change your life.”

Yes, the past few weeks left us worried and scared and frustrated. What’s clear is that this virus has the potential to either bring us closer together – not physically closer – that’s a no-no – but closer as a community of people who collectively did what it took to keep ourselves and those we know safe. Or it could drive us farther apart, with selfish or impatient actions.

We get to decide. Let’s decide wisely. Please.