On March 13, the United States declared a COVID-19 state of emergency. Massachusetts declared its state of emergency on March 10. This week we have reached quite a milestone, our six-month coronaversary.
Could it really only be six months that we’ve been living like this? It feels more like six years since we saw schools, restaurants, gyms, bars, and offices shutter. Haven’t we been wearing face masks since 2016 and suffering through Zoom meetings since, like, Windows 8 was the operating system of choice? No my friends, I’m sorry. It’s been six months, which is about the same amount of time it took my Instacart order of Charmin to arrive.
I think the best way to recognize the anniversary is ignore it for a minute. Pretend it’s like the horse droppings you see on the street during a parade after the Revolutionary War reenactors have gone past. Just avert your eyes. That doesn’t mean you can take your mask off, it just means it’s time to think about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, or whatever tickles your fancy. Just not horse droppings.
To make it easy, I’ll start the conversation. Remember, let’s keep it light, and remain off all things coronavirus, OK? Here we go!
Despite the pandemic, I’ve had quite a year, thanks so much for asking. In February, I went on a Valentine’s Day cruise of the Caribbean on the Regal Princess. On it, I witnessed a mass vow renewal ceremony officiated by Gavin MacLeod (Captain Stubing of “The Love Boat”) and Jill Whelan (his television daughter, Vicki). I got to speak with both of “The Love Boat” actors and couldn’t wait to write the story. But by the time I was home and ready to write, the cruise industry had essentially been shut down because of . . . Oh right, we’re not talking about that.
OK, maybe that’s not a good conversation starter. Let me try this again. In March, I was about to go on the perfect trip. I was going to learn how to play golf in Scotland. I never understood the appeal of golf, but I assumed after this trip I would. I had the cutest golf outfits ready, but the week I was scheduled to leave . . . Hmmm. That’s not really a good example, either.
So, here’s something. I learned a new skill. I love baking, and so I tried making sourdough bread for the first time. Between you and me, I don’t really care for sourdough, but I thought I’d give it a go because everyone was suddenly trying it. It was an unfortunate fad brought about by . . . Jiminy Christmas, this is harder than I thought it would be.
Has it really only been six months?
Let’s see, I’ve had many lovely lunch dates with my cat because . . . Nope. I went to the drive-in twice this year. That was fun. Have you tried the drive-in? The first time it was so cold outside the windows kept fogging up, making it difficult to see the movie. The second time it was pouring rain, and that isn’t ideal. But at least I managed to see a movie from somewhere other than my sofa. Ever since the theaters shut down because of . . . Oops, sorry.
Scratch all of those. I’ve got one good one. I went to a party for Memorial Day. Yes, meaning I was able to hang out with one other couple on their roof deck. Because it was the first time I had been outside for more than seven minutes since February, I ended up with a sunburn on my neck. But the good thing is that my face didn’t burn because it was covered with a . . . Cheese and crackers, this is impossible!
Hmmm. In April, I tried something new with my hair. I cut it myself because . . . Er, sorry can’t go down that path. Let me think of something positive. Hang on, this may take a while. Got it. My trainer told me I’d really gained a lot of mass. That was good until he told me my ever-expanding spare tire was doing all the gaining. For some reason, it’s suddenly considered unhealthy to polish off a can of Pringles for breakfast every morning. What else am I going to do? I’m trapped in the house because of . . .
Fine. I give up. It’s impossible to talk about the six-month coronaversary without talking about the pandemic. I guess the best we can do is try to sidestep it, much the way the poor marching band in a parade has to sidestep all of those gifts the horses have left in the street.