Right after I finished cooking lunch, the power went out. This was not a surprise with the recent hurricane, now a tropical storm, arriving in NJ. My street almost always loses power when a major storm comes through our area. After four days of cooking in the dark with the background music of multiple generators around us, we finally received an update from the power company—it would take another week to get the electricity back. Suddenly I felt tired. I reached for my cell phone and reserved a table for dinner on Saturday. I justified it to myself: our wedding anniversary was coming up, so we would celebrate with our kids.
On the side of the restaurant, there was a row of tables to accommodate COVID-19 social distancing. The sun was low but not low enough to be behind the buildings. Occasional breezes provided relief from the late afternoon sun.
I was happy with a glass of sangria that we had brought from home. Soon appetizers came and I was in heaven. Then, people at the table in front of me started a video call. Each person shouted at the phone, and we could also hear the person talking on the other end of the call. I tried to stay cool: let them enjoy it for a while, it’ll end soon.
Our main dishes came, and then, the people behind me started a video call. When the lady spoke, I felt as if she was talking right into my ear. My husband turned around and stared at her for a while, but she didn’t care. At first, I thought she might feel as if she were at the beach, enjoying unrestricted freedom under the sun. But the strange thing was that she didn’t seem to notice us at all.
These people were not young. They looked rather established and amiable. I’d have expected those same people to scold someone else for invading other people’s space by starting a video call at a restaurant. What is happening? Is America regressing to a nation of children?
It was clear that none of these people had malicious intent. They looked nonchalant and innocent. Then, it suddenly hit me: this is a side effect of COVID-19.
We have all been staying at home with only our closest family members for so long that we can sometimes forget that other people still exist. These diners lived in their small bubbles and it no longer occurred to them that people around them could hear them talking. Beyond the boundaries of their bubbles, other living beings ceased to exist or matter.
Should I wave at them and say “we can hear you!” or tell myself “this too shall pass” and be tolerant? I decided to behave like an adult in front of my kids: enjoy our dinner and skip dessert. After all, we are also suffering from another COVID-19 consequence – gaining weight.
One of my blunders was probably caused by my boredom of this very secluded life. One night, I suddenly decided that I would shave my forehead for the first time since my wedding. I thought that somehow it would cheer me up. I picked up a razor in the shower, and the next moment I heard an unexpected sound. I ran to the mirror and turned on the light. The end of my left eyebrow was gone, and I had a meeting the next day. I don’t know why I didn’t think about using the mirror and light in the first place. During my meeting on the patio of a diner with the sun hitting my face in ninety-degree weather, I prayed that my penciled-in brow wouldn’t melt away.
My kids, on the other hand, seem to manage their lives without many faux pas. I believe it has something to do with the fact that they go out with their friends rather frequently for tennis, soccer and just to hang out. Humans are social animals and we may deteriorate as social beings if we don’t share space with others. Isolation isn’t good for us. I sometimes wonder what we will be like next spring after another multi-month stay-at-home order. Will we suddenly be able to remember how to socialize with people when social-distancing is no longer necessary?
Like my eyebrow that is growing back slowly, I hope we’ll slowly but surely regain our sense as social beings and start feeling connected again with people outside our bubbles, whom we may currently consider strangers. We may all need to re-learn some of the basic social skills then, including when to share and not to share our private conversations in a public space.
It’ll be an adventure that we go through as a society. Some mishaps and emotional injuries will be inevitable, but I’m sure we’ll somehow come out of it in one piece. It is also possible that our journey to a new normalcy will make us kinder and more compassionate towards others. That happened after 9/11 and after the 2008 financial crisis. It is a dream of sorts, but I need to hold onto that dream tightly. Because that is the only thought that can carry me through a tough fall and an even more desperate winter until I see the first signs of spring in my garden.
Meanwhile, let me imagine an America where we’ll become social butterflies coming out of our cocoons. We can shake hands for a starter. What a concept!
I always enjoy reading your blogs. Interesting perspective! Hope all is well. xo Nancy
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