I’m about two months into this quarantine business.
Some people haven’t taken Covid-19 seriously. In the words of one Rodney Dangerfield: Take my Coronvirus, please!
Yes, there’s a group of folks in the United States that dismiss this virus as a hoax. The workings of the deep state or something. At least, that’s what my social media tells me. That’s fine. Hard to explain why the wealthiest people in the world would throw money away to throw money away. Seems like the deep state would be smarter about adding to their deep hoards of deep wealth. Even harder to explain mass graves in New York City. But people are entitled to their opinions. As for me and my family? We’ve been socially distant for about sixty days. I’d love to think there was an end in sight. But who knows?
Samson is slated to enter Kindergarten next fall. There was a virtual orientation for parents last week. No thanks. Too many Zoom meetings.
Last year, we took Solomon to visit the Kindergarten classrooms at his school. Ferguson Township Elementary. What a blast. He was bursting with enthusiasm. So eager to start school. We were looking forward to doing the same with Samson this spring. We were excited for Solomon to give his little brother a tour. That won’t happen now. Lots of little things won’t happen now. Samson’s graduation from preschool. Solomon’s last day of school party. I’m not even sure we can get Samson the shots he needs for Kindergarten. Our doctor is only scheduling essential visits.
What a strange spring! Take my Covid-19, Rodney, if’n you please.
I suspect this summer will be strange as well.
The Tanner family usually makes a pilgrimage home to Minnesota. A fifteen-hour car ride with brief stops in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin or, God forbid, Elyria, Ohio. This trip probably won’t happen now. Doesn’t seem smart to risk the byways. Or the highways. I miss our family. Miss our friends. The Mississippi River. Summit Extra Pale Ale. Cecil’s Jewish Deli. I even planned on taking Solomon to a Twins game this summer. Who knows if the Twins will even play a game this summer?
Incidentally, I was excited about the Minnesota Twins this year. We were coming into this season with the highest projections the Twins have had since the early 90’s. Since I was a pudgy boy who hung on every pitch. Now? Well, Rodney, take those projections, please! They don’t mean anything. The Covid monster got to them, too. What a jerk. I’m starting to think the only way the Twins will win another World Series in my lifetime is if Kirby Puckett rises from the dead. Stranger things have happened. See: The United States circa 2020.
Anyway, this summer will be different. I’m doubtful that we’ll be able to take the boys to the pool. Camping. To Meyer’s Dairy for ice cream. We’ll come up with versions of these things, sure. But it won’t be the same.
There’s that saying about change being the only thing that is constant. Religious people might beg to differ. A higher power that remain the same. But it does seem like the things of this world are always in flux. Ebbing. Evolving. Changing and dying and something new is born. So it is with living things. These last two months have certainly provoked different habits in me, for sure. A much different routine.
I have my health. My family has their health. I won’t get a cost of living raise this summer, but I still have a job. So these are things to give thanks for.
Two months of quarantine? I’ve become a virtual teacher. A virtual improvisor. A virtual playwright. I’ve even helped develop a vaccine! These things are the more public aspects of my quarantine persona. There’s the more authentic side of me, too.
I’ve tried to be kind to my wife. Peaceful in the face of Solomon and Samson’s pent up energy. I’ve kept to a routine. Run in the morning. Write and work. Play video games. Make sure we have enough food. Mow the lawn. Do the dishes. Make the best of spending each and everyday at home. Trying to limit the spread of enzymes.
I’m too months deep into one of the stranger experiences of my life. That’s all.