One rainy morning last week I got on the treadmill, cued up a playlist of music from my iTunes, and turned the TV on with the sound off. I’ve discovered most vintage TV shows, like “Matlock,” and “Murder She Wrote,” which old people like me watch, are actually better with no sound. When you’re sweatin’ to the oldies, Andy Griffith and Angela Lansbury are not what Richard Simmons had in mind.
Anyway, that morning “Charlie’s Angels” was on the boob tube. If ever there was a show that benefited from no sound, this was it. Let’s face it, sparkling dialogue wasn’t why the program was a hit back in the late ‘70s. But a most unusual thing happened: I was jealous of the actor in the scene, not because he was snuggling up to the beauteous Cheryl Ladd, but because they were in a busy restaurant, with people talking and drinking and eating while The Carpenters’ “(I Long to Be) Close to You” was on my digital jukebox.
Social distancing is necessary, but it got old fast. It’s playing tricks with my mind.
It seems during every show I watch on TV these days, I’m yelling at the screen because the people aren’t 6 feet apart, aren’t wearing face masks and seem to have no concern for anyone but themselves. Selfish jerks! It’s irrational. Hell, I don’t yell that loudly while I’m watching a presidential press briefing.
I’m even envious of the finches and wrens on our bird feeder. They cluster together with not a care in the world, gorging themselves on nyjer seed and fluttering around like they’re dancing beak to beak.
My wife and I spend a few hours each day working on jigsaw puzzles, many with a nature theme. It’s a great way to pass the time. But we’ve done so many, when we’re outdoors navigating a wooded trail or admiring a river or pond, my brain dissects the image into 1000 pieces that will have to be put together.
Each day, we put on our masks and take a short bike ride or a long walk through our neighborhood. Earth Day was last week, and scientists are reporting pollution isn’t as bad with so few people driving their gas-guzzlers. That’s great. But I’m dismayed by what I see: hundreds of empty nip bottles, mostly Fireball Cinnamon Whisky and Dr. McGillicuddy’s Mentholmint, littering our roadsides. Now that packies aren’t accepting returns, a profusion of empty beer cans and bottles have been discarded on the side of the road, as have tons of used masks and latex gloves. What’s wrong with people?
Most of all, I miss interacting with family and friends and my Item co-workers. I’m sure that’s true of everyone who’s working from home and juggling all aspects of daily life. I always thought I’d enjoy working from home, without the constant interruptions in the workplace. To a certain degree I do; I am much more productive in my makeshift office at the dining room table. But I crave the banter, dark humor, conviviality and helping one another that exists in a newsroom every day.
I’m used to conducting interviews face to face, in a person’s home, an art gallery, theater, or museum. One of The Item’s exceptional young photographers usually joins me, and we all work together to create a package that is visually stunning and interesting. Spending an hour sitting and chatting with someone is often the best part of the job, especially for a features writer who has the liberty to be a bit more creative than a reporter who covers fires, crime and breaking news.
Interviews done over the phone rarely last longer than 30 minutes, and they just aren’t the same. Due to a lack of confidence, I’ve shied away from using FaceTime and Zoom.
Like everyone else, I look forward to the day when we can all share space and time in a concert hall, go to our favorite stores, belly-up to the bar with friends in a pub or restaurant, seek recommendations on new books from library staff, and many of life’s pleasures that we have always taken for granted.
We feel that void every day. We all have a need to be social and communal. Yes, we are all in this together. And hopefully, our staying apart will soon let us be together again.
