Friends Conquer COVID
Over the weekend, savage criticism of my long-winded writing style from people I love indicated a need for me to start out these little gifts with something of summary. And so, this edition contains a disquisition on moving beyond COVID life in the company of the best of friends.
Little Signs of Normalcy
The Lady of the Manor and I have been relatively compliant with the (ever-changing, inconsistent, poorly communicated) COVID guidance that we have received over the past fifteen months. We’ve pretty much hewed to whatever it is that America’s Best Governor (Hogan) has told us, both because he seems reasonable and because his pronouncements carry the weight of the law. This week saw several firsts of the COVID era, including eating a meal indoors at a restaurant (Wednesday, Italian, superb), having friends visit for the weekend without masks, and dinner out (indoors, American) with said friends. Additionally, I am resuming routine travel coincident with work.
Of note, the picturesque little Hamlet of St. Michaels, MD—where we ate on Saturday night—had only two days earlier decided to continue its policy of requiring mask wearing out of doors as one walks along the street. I am continually reminded of by the flaks for one of the major political parties that it is the “Party of Science”, but apparently, science is to be ignored when it comes to the danger of COVID transmission outdoors (or in schools). The St. Michaels Chief of Police had during the town’s deliberations on the matter, suggested that enforcing such a requirement would be a waste of time and energy for a police force that would begin dealing with the presence of summer tourists, but the nannies of the town council believed otherwise. So we masked for the brisk walk from where we parked to the restaurant and then sat down and acted like normal people again.
Fourteen years ago this summer I was at a college reunion, and a friend of mine from first year dorm (Metcalf, me first left, he basement left) were talking, when his slightly inebriated wife redirected our conversation (at that point, what being single and 41 in DC was like for me—answer, sublime) to the fact that she had friends to introduce me to. Long story short, one of those friends is the aforementioned Lady of the Manor. They were boarding school chums, and I’d appreciate you not making any Sapphic jokes about that.
Long before I happened into the mix, their young families had been comingling, and there are now various Episcopal Church-sanctioned “Godparenting” relationships involved. All in all, I adjusted to COVID swimmingly, but if I had to identify the thing I missed most, it would be the time spent in the company of this couple. The relationship has not been one-way, as their basement bedroom has always been available to me on those days when business on the western shore suggested an overnight. Upon their departure, I said a little prayer asking that this epidemic be well and truly on its way to being over, as I simply do not want to have to suffer the lack of contact again. The hugs exchanged with Robert and Beth (the first hugs I can remember participating in with anyone not living with me) continue to raise a smile on my face as I write this.
As alluded to earlier, as this rumination lands in your email/arises from your click, I will have passed through two airports, flown on an airplane, and lodged in a hotel. Routine travel has been a part of my life for years, and though its absence was one of the little Godsends of COVID, I find myself excited about it again. There was a time last fall when the virulence of the virus had abated, and I made a couple of trips. That ended when, while I was in Texas, America’s Best Governor suggested that anyone returning to the People’s State of Maryland from a state with a 10% or higher infection rate should quarantine until they have a clean test. As a famous rule follower (excepting speed limits, natch), I came home and spent nearly eight days in Q-Life getting a test and then awaiting the glacial progress of the result.
The bottom line in all of this is that I am declaring an end to my COVID stage. I will continue to follow such guidelines as are promulgated by competent authority, which is aided somewhat by the fact that wearing a mask indoors isn’t a big deal. I will however, likely take on a bit of a more militant stance if the mask wearing is drawn-out by the stupidity, stubborn-ness, and Know-nothingism of the anti-Vax Druids.
The N-Word
The great John McWhorter had an essay on the word in the New York Times this weekend that is well worth the read.
Douthat on Wokeness
More from the Sunday NYT. There is a bit of a contest on re: Wokeness, between those on the right who overstate it, and those on the left who try to minimize it. I tend (unsurprisingly) to think that performative virtue signaling on the left will do more to whip up a reaction on the right than it will impact policy—in the short run. This means that I’m bullish on GOP chances in 2022 and 2024, but the plain truth of the matter is that the longer-term direction of the country is likely moving in the direction of the Woke. The rudder isn’t hard-left, but it is left.
Of note, the Wokeness police seem to have tangled with the wrong Medical Student at Dear Old UVA. I’m gonna wait this one out a little, as I’m wary of New York Post reporting….but this is definitely on my radar.