Random Notes on a New World
My first experience of “social distancing” was as an observant four year old, picking up small sticks as my parents and grandfather felled trees for our new home on Clark’s Corner.
On weekends, we set up camp on the property, two tents, and an outdoor kitchen, with a Coleman stove for my mother to prepare meals.
Each successive weekend, a car or two would ease slowly by, the drivers never waving or stopping with an encouraging ‘Hello!’ My mother, a gregarious Okie, thought this was odd, but didn’t question it. After about a month, the line of cars grew more than occasional; passengers now were taking photographs and my father’s normal jovial demeanor was stretched to the limit.
My grandfather, not terribly astute due to a head injury as a young adult working at the Goodwin Farm up the road, finally stopped traffic by lurching his way up the driveway with a good sized axe and stood in the way of a family-filled station wagon the size of a small boat.
After a short, and slightly terrifying interrogation from my grandfather, and a calming discussion with my father, the frightened driver revealed that Carl Jewett, my uncle’s poker pal, and Town “character”, had let slip that there were Gypsies camped over on Clark’s Corner, and that “folks might want to go for a visit to make them welcome.” Certainly, they came for the visit, but not quite ready yet for the welcome.
As a self-professed “crowd-mongerer” (much like my mother), I still need to connect with folks, the first usually to say hello, share a hug, or a handshake. Going out now is more care-full; in the early days of “50 people—3 feet, and now, 5 people—6 feet”; I find people needing to be out are kind, sharing wry humor within the proscribed 72 inches. And while eyes may belie a certain weariness—smiles and patience have become the universal language.
In this new world of the “Coron-apocalypse”, irony abounds: Muzak for a recent early morning shop (to avoid the masses and hopefully stock up): Bon Jovi, Living on Prayer, and Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy.
Working electronically from home, I now make time to write more letters, send out handmade cards, and when checking in with folks, I’m talking less and listening more. Which somehow makes it feel just a little closer, and a lot less distant.
Mary Oliver