social distancing – Welcome to Third Age Thoughts

– Dorn asks why aren’t we better at following the safety rules?

etween the news, social media, and just trying to get groceries, it’s impossible not to be aware of the new three commandments of social engagement: stay home, keep six feet from others, and wear some kind of face covering. But we as a country don’t function very well on rules decreed by experts—we act they way that social pressures dictate we act.

I’m starting to see and feel the strain of the new rules of society colliding with the old ones. Although on my forays to the grocery store I now see almost everyone wearing face covers of some sort, it still hasn’t caught on in our home neighborhood.

Our house is right across from a small sandy Chesapeake Bay beach, and our road ends a little ways beyond in a picturesque inlet overlooking a bird sanctuary, so we see our fair share now of people and families taking a break from being stuck indoors together 24-7. Despite the fact that face masks were recommended three weeks ago for anyone going out, it was only yesterday that I finally saw someone other than Kathleen or me on our street in a face mask.

It was a young boy riding his bike, alone. On closer look, it seemed he was wearing something like a toy plastic nose-and-mouth covering that might have come with a Star Wars game set, but even so, I was encouraged. It told me that somehow, this young boy had picked up on the social cues that made wearing a face mask a thing to do. Maybe that’s the first step towards the hard-headed adults around here trying it. (I have seen one adult here wearing a mask since then, so good news.) And just maybe, some time after that, even the teenagers will join in!

Here’s a shot of the young pioneer. I didn’t want to show his face or give other clues to his identity because he’s just a kid, so you can’t see the mask very well, but you can see that he’s wearing it.

* * *

One of the reasons people resist face masks, I think, is that they violate an unwritten social rule about openness. If people can’t see your face, maybe you’re hiding something. Maybe you’re even up to something nefarious (see Zorro, here). I thought of a way around this—nowadays, any image can be printed easily on fabric, so why not print your nose and mouth on the face mask that is covering your real nose and mouth?

As with so many of my brilliant ideas, someone has already thought of this one. In fact, many people have, and have already commercialized it, and have discovered a whole new market for such masks—people whose smart phones won’t recognize their faces and unlock. They look pretty creepy to me, but hey, gotta keep the phone happy!

* * *

I saw an example the other day of Kathleen being conflicted between the old rules of social etiquette and the new, straying too close to a neighbor and fellow dog-walker, who was not masked. And she even petted his dog!

It seemed to me at the time that she was being too old-school polite to ask our friend to stay back, and keep his dog further away. “I’d never do that!” I thought to myself at the time. Of course, what I didn’t think to myself at the time was that I also didn’t tell him to back off, and didn’t even suggest to Kathleen to back up. I didn’t want to be rude!

Then the very next day our positions were reversed. We had decided to take a drive over to Jefferson Patterson Park, closed except for the walking trails, and take some different fresh air.

Another car pulled along side us and opened their window. In it were an old couple (and by old, I mean older than us, or at least more decrepit-looking). They were flailing around with a map brochure, and asking for directions. I opened my window and tried to help, but couldn’t figure out what they were looking for. So I got out of the car(!!) to get a closer look at the map. Kathleen says I actually touched the map, but I didn’t, I swear! Anyway, after all that I couldn’t help them and they went on their way. Kathleen was having the exact thoughts I about me, that I had had about her the day before! And she reacted in exactly the same way I did, by thinking about it, but not saying it.

Editor’s note: I did so say it! I just didn’t say it in a way that was forceful enough to get into Dorn’s thick head what I was so obviously hinting at!  -K

The moral is that the new three golden rules have got to supersede the old rules of courtesy at least for a while, and if you don’t stay mindful of what you are doing, you can start letting the old rules take sway and not even know it.

Neither Kathleen or I had the presence of mind to tell the other people to stay away or just pull back ourselves, because we didn’t want seem rude to strangers. And we couldn’t even tell each other to pull back, because we didn’t want to seem rude to each other. If we haven’t learned from our mistakes, I guess they can put that on our joint tombstone when they bury us from the covid: “They were polite to the end.”

Thanks,
Dorn
4/20/2020

– In which Dorn records his and Kathleen’s experiment with self‑isolation.

Prologue:

I. The libraries and schools in our county have been shut down since last week, due to the threat of coronavirus. Today our governor ordered that restaurants, bars, gyms and the like are also to be shut down, at least through the end of the month.

II. Some of my siblings and niblings just returned from a jaunt to our ancestral grounds in Norway. (That trip, and its harrowing escape back to the US as the virus was closing borders all around them like the jaws of a gigantic bear trap, is a hearty adventure tale in itself, that I’m hoping one or more of them will write.) They are all back in the US now, and in accordance with the latest wisdom, they are self-quarantining for 14 days before visiting any old people.

One of those siblings is Lona, and one of the places she’s quarantined out of is her own house, because her husband Gordon, who is fully as old as she is, lives there. Today Lona started sharing her quarantine journal on Facebook.

Kathleen and I haven’t been out of the country lately, or (to our knowledge) in contact with any corona-positives (or “Cee-Pees”), but decided it would be wise to socially-distance ourselves away in our little country cottage, “The Lotus Eatery”.

Lona’s example has inspired us to start our own “Cowering in Place” journal.

Cowering in Place, day 1 (3/16/2020).

Having joined in the fun of panic-buying last week, we are confident of having enough toilet paper to last out several extra days of the zombie apocalypse. We’re stocked with foods fresh, frozen, and imperishable. No milk, but plenty of that kind of canned tuna that we don’t like.

One of the universally acknowledged rules of cowering in place is that you have to eat differently than you would normally. So, we pulled the old Spiralizer off the top shelf, dusted it off, and made lo-o-ong strings of spaghetti out of all the veges we could find: zucchini, carrots, beets, pickles. We weren’t brave enough to process the broccoli in the fridge, and the celery and mushrooms just wouldn’t cooperate.

Mixing this with some lemon juice, feta and oil made a tasty salad, that when cooked became a delicious mirepoix. We learned that the safest (perhaps the only safe) way to eat it was with a snail fork (perhaps a tuning fork could be substituted) in one hand and a pair of kitchen scissors in the other.

* * *

The stock market has been spooked by the whole coronavirus thing, which has sent my IRA teetering. I had calibrated my contributions to it down to the penny, so that I didn’t have to work an hour longer than needed to give me an IRA that lasted exactly as long as I did.

You would think that the fear of an unexpectedly early demise from the Chinese Flu would cancel out the fear of living longer than my IRA, but oddly enough it didn’t. Instead, by some weird calculus of human psychology, the two fears were added together! (Bet you didn’t see that coming!)

So we called our IRA guy and asked him to advise us about the money in the IRA. He came armed with charts, graphs, and future projections. ˆ”See?” he told us, “you’re still on track for meeting your retirement goals, despite this market tumble.”

“But what if one of us gets sick?” I asked. “Excellent question! Let’s plan for that! How about we have Kathleen go into a nursing home at this point, and then die at this point three years later. Let’s re-do the math, and …. great, you’re still fine!” (He really said that.)

This was very comforting to me, although Kathleen didn’t seem as reassured. “Why am I the one who gets to die?” “It’s only reasonable,” I said, “I’m the one who arranged the videoconference.”

But she still didn’t seem reconciled to our new plan. I didn’t say it aloud, but i think she was letting her cabin fever jitters get in the way of rationally planning what was best for All Concerned. And it’s only day 1!!

Are you keeping a Cowering in Place Journal? If so, it seems like a good topic for a GUEST POST! Let us know!

Thanks,
Dorn
3/16/2020