Thursday, March 11, 2021

A Year Besieged

 Today marks a year of Covid-19 in the U.S.

For me that means a year and 2 days ago I returned from a trip to California, getting my elderly mother back home just before the country closed down.  She had been visiting Texas, had accidentally broken an arm just before flying home, and went through the whole painful process of recovering - well, the first stage of hospitals and rehab - all juuuuust before covid.  Thank god.  We didn't know it, but it would be months before she could have repair surgery and recovered from that.  A painful year - with isolation and worry as frosting.

For me it means a year and 5 days since I was in a theater.  Watching an excellent production of Proof at Murphys Creek Theater in Murphys, California.  (I once designed that show and really liked this production's set!)  A year and eighteen days since I watched the last show I designed: Alabaster at Kitchen Dog Theater, Dallas.  I missed its strike while in California, but that show, my last show, closed a year and two days ago.

Haven't stepped on stage since.

Proof - at Plano Repertory Theatre - sketch & design by Clare Floyd DeVries

So what's different in daily life since a year ago?

While drinking coffee in my car (because coffee shops are not a thing for me nowadays) I jotted down the top few examples:

1)  Masks.  After more than half a million dead in this country, our governor has canceled the state's mask requirement.  (Texas ranks 5th most in the country in new infections.)  Yet today I wore a mask in the coffee hut's drive-though line - as did the coffee hut staff - and then drank it in my car.  I was drinking coffee because someone in my family forgot to take masks this morning for work so I met them part way with masks.  Coffee as good-deed-award!  Then, driving home, I saw two friends walking together in a park, both wearing masks.  Take that, Governor Abbott!  Or, as my favorite comment from the mayor of Austin put it: 

 “From the people who brought you no water and no electricity: no masks.”

Among sensible Texans masks are still a thing.

2)  Distancing.  My household is still cautious, Mr. Governor, sir.  Even though, due to our zip code, we have recently had the first of two vaccine shots.  But we are going out more than a year ago.  This week we ate out twice: once at an early, uncrowded hour on the patio of a favorite restaurant and again one evening at a picnic table outside a fish place.  The pizza was great and the sun that day lovely; the oyster po'boy was also good, but darkness fell and a cool breeze sprang up so that meal was hastier.  Still nice to eat food I didn't personally cook. I'm so tired of my own cooking.  Hot French fries!  Ambrosia!

Since my first vaccine shot I made a couple not-absolutely-necessary excursions.  Well, one.  A bookstore.  It wasn't crowded and I wore a mask and didn't touch much, but I didn't feel I had to grab-n'-go either which was wonderful.  Other than that it's just the grocery store once a week.  Two weeks after I get my second shot I'm planning to first, get a haircut! (it's been since, um, September?) and, second, try on blue jeans.  (I've been living in one pair for a year, wearing PJs or my formal black jeans while THE jeans go round and round in the washing machine and dryer.)  

Sadly, I figured out early on that the most patriotic, helpful thing I personally could do for my fellow citizens in this pandemic was to just stay out of the forking way.  I keep virus from spreading and keep stores uncrowded by staying home.  Sigh.  

3)  Stores.  Stores have changed from a year ago.  Our grocery shelves are mostly full again... kinda.  There's toilet paper!  But fewer brands.  That's true of every shelf - fewer brands and some empty spots where a particular item has run out and not yet been restocked.  Or won't be.  Plenty of hand sanitizer and TP... but no rubbing alcohol.  Lots of soup this week (that aisle was stripped bare during Texas' Deep Freeze!), but fewer brands.  Odds of finding your favorite flavor are iffy.  My store has stopped stocking my favorite tea (Twining's Jasmine Green Tea if you're wondering).  Since it's obvious they don't plan on stocking it again, I'm now ordering it online in big boxes.  I think most folks have an item or twenty they just get online now.  I've noticed grocery can aisles are shorter than in the Before Time, whereas prepared or partially prepared (chopped veg or kits and such) have much more supermarket real estate.  (This struck me as funny during our Deep Freeze weeks.  A friend stocked up for upcoming arctic weather... with freezer/refrigerator food.  The power outage surprised her.  Me, with my weather-proof, unpowered cans, was sympathetic.)

4)  Family and Friends.  A year of Zoom and Skype calls, or regular ol' phone calls, of emails, texts, and, oddly paper letters! later, many casual friendships have disappeared, but other relationships persist.  Now and then I'll synchronize making a cup of coffee with a friend and we'll chat and sip, connected by voices over the aether. It kinda works.  An unexpected problem though: when no one goes anywhere or sees anyone... there's less to talk about.  I've heard about one friend's exciting recent activity four times now - and I react like it's new! every time! because it's just so nice to hear their voice.  On the plus side, I've discovered that it really is possible to make new friends online.  (Carefully, obviously, but it's possible and welcome!)

The hard part is when there is a health issue - as with older relatives there necessarily will be.  Travel by air or car between states is difficult and discouraged; some states have quarantines that add expense and delay; and then hospitals mostly do not allow family to visit.  I'm not arguing with these safety rules!  I only point out that they are hurdles.  I know of folks dealing with illnesses, deaths, funerals, and settling estates during this pandemic... the process is even more painful than before.  And, honestly, this is in a family that's been blessedly, lightly touched by covid, losing one person to date, not more.  And also, for the most part, blessedly untouched by the economic fallout too. 

5) Economy and Society.  The economic fallout from covid is very real.  I see it most, personally, in the state of theater, which is Closed. (I'm out of work, yes, but I'm still housed and fed so I'm grateful.  Others?  Not so lucky.)  Theater will come back - with or without me.  Part-reason for my confidence about that is that more covid-relief seems to be finally on its way from Washington.  That will help.  Vaccinations, proceeding faster now, will help too.  Theater can't reopen until the pandemic is controlled.  The greater political situation... well, who knows?  No one, that's who.  But it looks more hopeful than it did a year ago.

So.  A strange year passing.  And, approaching, comes a strange new "normal."

I look forward to it hopefully.


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