Essential Services

The other day my husband got a t-shirt emblazoned with the statement, “Music is Essential.” Since the pandemic hit our shores in a big way last spring, local and state governments have been grappling with which businesses to shutter and which to allow to remain open in order to safeguard people’s health and safety.

From shuttering nearly every imaginable storefront in the early days of COVID-19 to more recent relaxation of rules prohibiting bars and restaurants to reopen, governors and mayors have struggled to appease the dissatisfaction of their constituents and especially of business owners struggling to survive. While most of us agree this pandemic has placed our country in uncharted waters, one of the interesting questions that has come up in talk about “essential services” is the differing definitions of what constitutes “essential.”

Grocers, health service providers, first responders, gas stations, and the like are obviously necessary lifelines. But what about liquor stores? Even in the early days, they remained open as essential businesses. I’m not sure what that says about our culture, but I’m not sorry there has been no shortage of wine during all of this. How about beauty salons? Schools? Daycare centers? It all depends on one’s situation in life.

In today’s Chicago Tribune, an article discussed the way in which European nations are grappling with a second wave of the virus. (“Europeans differ on what is truly essential”) As German Chancellor Angela Merkel pointed out, it’s not practical to shut down the entire economy again. Instead, it must be determined which businesses are necessary. Not surprisingly, the answer depends upon the cultural norms of a country. For instance, in Belgium, chocolate shops are considered essential. In Italy, hair salons are needed to maintain one’s image. In France, books are considered de rigueur, so bookstores remain open. Germans need their autos.

In America, a big country with big dreams, we want everything open. We feel slighted if we can’t patronize our favorite bar, restaurants or salon. We don’t want to cancel our weddings or other festivities. The holidays loom ahead, creating anxiety as families wonder how to celebrate them safely. No one actively wants to spread the coronavirus. But in so many ways, we feel like all the life-affirming activities we’ve enjoyed heretofore are indeed essential.

Getting back to my hubby’s t-shirt, I’d have to agree that music is indeed essential. Luckily we can, for now, enjoy it in the comfort and safety of our own homes.

Boo!

Despite the November-level temperatures that have descended on us like a harbinger of winter, I have been bundling up and taking my daily walks. On my most recent one, I kept seeing the same yard sign on front lawn after front lawn. It showed a cartoon big cat in a ghost costume and sported the announcement, “WE’VE BEEN BOO’D.”

For the uninitiated, being “boo’d” means that someone sneaked up to your door in the weeks before Halloween and deposited a bag or bucket of sweet treats on the doorstep. The signs are apparently a way to indicate that one’s household has already been hit, and booers should spread the wealth in Halloween candy somewhere else.

But the signs also celebrate a simple and neighborly tradition whose sole purpose is to light up the eyes of children. I distinctly remember the joy my children felt when the doorbell rang on a dark autumn evening and we found a decorated bag of goodies left on the doorstep. The goodies came with a piece of paper adorned with a ghost and the message that we’d been boo’d. We were instructed to make four copies of the notice, place ours in a window, and then pay it forward by surprising four other houses in our neighborhood.

I conspired with the kids to target favorite friends on the block and helped them with their covert ops in the dark. We’d all giggle as we ran away or hide behind a shrub to watch someone open the door and discover our gift. Being a mom, I would make sure I had put enough of the same kinds of candy for as many children as I knew resided in the house we were booing. I also added Halloween-themed activity books and other inexpensive trinkets since I knew they were about to be deluged with candy from trick-or-treating.

It was heartwarming to see that the booing tradition is still alive and well in my town. With COVID-19 still severely compromising our lives, it is nice to see people spreading a little joy – and in a socially distant way! Maybe this is the secret to this year’s Halloween dilemma. Instead of having kids go from house to house to garner treats, maybe neighborhoods should organize candy drop-offs to any house with a designated sign indicating they’d like to participate. Not only would it be safer, it would be a way to bring the community together in a tough and politically divisive time.

There’s still time to make your own little boo bags and treat some lucky children to a pre-Halloween surprise. It might just bring out the child in you.

Ties That Bind

The other day, my sisters and I braved chilly temps and blustery winds to meet outside for a socially distant get together. At times we could barely hear each other over the wind as we sat in a circle six feet apart, all of us covered from head to toe in warm clothing. Yet we would all say we had a thoroughly wonderful time. Such are the ties that bind.

Throughout this pandemic, people have sought creative ways to stay in touch and to be together. Zoom stockholders are sitting pretty these days as the virtual meeting platform has become a lifeline among colleagues and loved ones. Each Sunday my family meets on Zoom to share the week’s joys and challenges – and to see each other’s beloved faces.

Outdoor dining has been another invaluable resource for safer in-person meetings. Even as the weather has turned cooler, a few judiciously spaced heaters can make the outdoor spaces tolerable, at least for now. Many restaurants have erected tents outside their buildings for further protection from the elements.

Mask wearing has also made brief meetings much less risky. I recently went on a walk with a friend, and our masks did not at all deter our conversation. My piano teacher and I also wear masks for our weekly lesson. These activities have made me feel so much less isolated from those I care about.

The lengths we are willing to go to to see our friends and loved ones are a strong indication of how important personal ties are to people’s emotional and mental well-being. One of the disturbing side effects of the lockdowns was an increase in suicides and drug overdoses. (npr.org, Oct. 14, 2020) We need each other. Let’s remember this simple truth as we near a divisive and bitter presidential election. Let’s strengthen the ties that bind. It’s the only way to get through tough times and come out stronger on the other side.

An Open Heart

“Approach today with gratitude, understanding, and openness, knowing it offers potential and possibilities.”

This was the mantra in yesterday’s virtual yoga class. And as often happens, it was exactly the message I needed.

Since becoming an empty nester, I have been grappling with my purpose. Years of habit and necessity have caused me to develop routines that no longer suit my life. But looking out into the vastness of possibility can be scary.

For so long I have identified with my primary roles as wife and mother. The myriad tasks and responsibilities associated with these roles have made it easy to forget about some of the aspirations I had when I was younger. Perhaps it is time to dust off those dreams and see if they still fit the woman I have become.

I have also lived in the same home for almost 20 years, a home that served my growing family well. It may be time to open my mind toward new places and living situations. For years my husband has longed to live in a warmer climate, and I have resisted the notion. But I think it is time to open myself to his long-held wish.

Our relationship also needs to move into a new phase, one in which the day-to-day needs of our children are not paramount. We now have the freedom to redesign our marriage, so to speak.

All of these changes require an open heart. Thanks to yoga, I have begun to practice that openness more consciously and intentionally. So I begin today – and the next phase of my life – “with gratitude, understanding and openness, knowing it offers potential and possibilities.”

Chickens Coming Home to Roost – in the ‘Burbs?

There has been quite the brouhaha in certain Chicago suburbs this summer over the unlikely proliferation of chicken coops. In Darien and Lincolnshire, local government officials are buying giant bottles of Tylenol to deal with the headache of residents complaining about their neighbors’ Green Acres-style predilections.

Let’s be real here. It’s hard enough dealing with inconsiderate dog owners who let their pets poop all over our property. Just imagine if instead of an alarm clock, you had a rooster next door to wake you up at dawn each day.

I’m all for self-sufficiency. Many people tend large vegetable gardens in their backyards so as to have the freshest produce. Just ask any amateur tomato or zucchini grower about his crop, and he will be as proud as a new papa with a cigar stuck in his mouth. But raising livestock within spitting distance of the barbecue grill? Well, that seems just plain cruel.

I’ve read in the past about complaints over pet pigs being kept in people’s backyards. With all due respect to George Clooney, pigs – and chickens! – belong on farms, not in suburbia.

I have to wonder what is behind this sudden craze for chickens. While goat yoga has been a thing for some time now, at least goats are cute. Chickens are beady-eyed and shrill, stalking and fluttering and leaving streaks of white excrement all over the place. What’s to love about them?

Maybe suburbanites are enthralled by the idea of going out to the coop to harvest fresh eggs each morning. I say let Phil collect the eggs and ship them to a store near me. Much quieter and more sanitary – at least for me.

So chicken, pig, goat, and other livestock lovers, if you really feel the need to raise anything other than a dog, cat, or perhaps rabbit on your premises, why not go whole hog, so to speak, and move into farm country? I have no doubt that in rural areas with wide open spaces, no one will squawk about your collection of chickens or future sides of bacon.

But chickens in the suburbs? That’s for the birds.

Willful Ignorance

The man walks up to the outdoor seating area of the diner and waits. He has on jeans, a t-shirt, and a day old scruff of beard. Nothing remarkable. Then I notice the screen print on his shirt. It says: “Unmasked. Unmuzzled. Unvaccinated. Unafraid.” Charming.

The man is seated outside, so there is no issue with the statewide mask requirement. After a few minutes, however, he stands up and walks toward the entrance. He hesitates, then pulls out a mask and puts it on before entering the restaurant. “Tough guy,” I mutter to myself under my breath.

I find myself discouraged by the kind of willful ignorance that would inspire someone to wear such a sentiment on his clothing. This is not an innocent “I didn’t know any better” type of ignorance. It’s intentional and in your face. I was just glad there was no altercation at the restaurant where I was peacefully eating breakfast.

Anti-intellectualism began during the Eighties with the election of Ronald Reagan. While Democrats complained that Reagan was not the brightest light bulb in the pack, Republicans accused them of elitism. The GOP started courting less educated, less sophisticated voters, and filled them with disdain for book learnin’. Thus began a cycle of countering Democratic intellectual heavyweights with not so bright “men of the people” – first Clinton followed by Dubya, then Obama succeeded by You-Know-Who.

In every facet of society, conservative anti-intellectualism started to take hold. Anti-science movements by extreme evangelicals in Texas affected the education of every American kid since Texas is the textbook development center of the country. Suddenly evolution is just one theory out of many. A growing number of Americans on both the Left and the Right start to doubt the safety and efficacy of routine childhood vaccines. And Pluto is no longer a planet! (Oh, wait. That last one is, alas, true.)

Conspiracy theories are another feature of willful ignorance. The Obama government was attempting to spy on our children with the advent of the Common Core in education. Hillary Clinton is at the center of a pedophile ring operating out of a Washington D.C. pizza parlor. The Deep State is trying to destroy Donald Trump’s presidency. When Hillary Clinton complained about a “right wing conspiracy” against her husband Bill in the 1990s, Republicans scoffed. Now they are the party of QAnon, a fringe group that believes there is a Satanic cabal out to destroy Trump and the American way of life.

It is no mystery how a shallow and unintelligent man was able to capture the White House. He appeals to the lowest common denominator in society and makes people feel better about their lack of knowledge or intellectual curiosity. When the Atlantic recently reported that Trump had referred to deceased soldiers as “losers” and “suckers,” his response was, “I don’t read that magazine.” Shocker.

Those of us who care deeply about facts and truth need to counter this strain of willful ignorance in American society. Our first job is to remove this president and his Congressional enablers from office. Then we need to regain the intellectual high ground. It’s all very well and good to admit you don’t know what you don’t know. But it’s paramount to insist on finding out.

Rural Free Delivery

One of my least favorite assignments in college was to read a book about the history of the United States Postal Service. Sounds like a cure for insomnia, right? But what stands out in my memory is learning about the institution of Rural Free Delivery in the late 1800s.

Prior to that time, people who did not live in large cities were hard pressed to find ways to communicate with the rest of America. Sending letters and packages was time-consuming and expensive. And many farms and homes were virtually inaccessible. With the advent of Rural Free Delivery, there was a push to improve roads, and residents became more connected with the outside world.

Today we are witnessing a sort of crisis with the U.S. Postal Service, one mostly created by politics and a misunderstanding of the Post Office’s purpose. Never having been designed as a moneymaking institution, suddenly the government is demanding that it become economically competitive.

Meanwhile, rural America is bearing a large portion of the fallout from misguided cost-cutting measures by the current Postmaster General, a political crony of Trump’s. Putting aside the vote-by-mail crisis that threatens to disenfranchise millions of Americans, rural areas are facing terrible backlogs that have resulted in delayed delivery of prescription medication, plants, seeds, and even livestock that small farmers obtain through the U.S. mail. For instance, when Rhiannon Hampton of Maine received delivery of a carton of chicks, most of them were dead. (“Mail crisis hitting rural America hard,” Chicago Tribune, Aug. 25, 2020)

Rural Free Delivery came into existence because the government saw the need to provide a service to Americans despite the cost. Even today, rural areas have difficulty receiving adequate internet service and access to package delivery. The Postal Service is their lifeline. As South Dakotan Gaylene Christensen put it, “‘If these small rural towns lose their post office they lose their identity.” (Tribune) It is the height of irony that the very same people who voted for Trump are suffering under his leadership. I hope they consider that when they go to the polls in November.

COVID Family Values

The coronavirus has made hanging out with your parents cool.

Well, I may be exaggerating just a tad. But the other day my daughter agreed to accompany me on my errands, something we haven’t done together for years. As teenagers, our kids are generally programmed to avoid us like, well, the plague.

After a couple of errands, we decided to treat ourselves to Starbucks. As we adjusted our masks in preparation to go into the store, we saw a classmate of my daughter’s walking toward us flanked by – you guessed it – her parents!

Everywhere I walk in my small town, I see a similar scenario: teenaged and adult children enjoying some quality time with their parents. What is happening here? Has stay-at-home boredom caused the youth of America to snap and actually be caught dead (or rather alive) with their folks?

It’s true that as things have opened up, I’ve seen more gatherings of kids in public places. The news is filled with stories of young partiers making COVID-19 rates soar in some locations. A Wall Street Journal article showed that adolescents and young adults are developmentally driven to congregate with each other. Yet I am still seeing lots more intergenerational bonding around me than I have in the past.

Maybe the fragile nature of our lives has made families more appreciative of having each other in their lives. With coronavirus deaths in America nearing 200,000, too many families are experiencing the loss of a loved one to this dread disease. Staying close to home, to our families, is a way to feel safer in such an environment. But I also think that perhaps the enforced time together has made children appreciate their parents more. Maybe they realize that they actually kind of like old Mom and Dad.

After we picked up our coffees, my daughter and I noticed that a fine art fair had been set up in the park next to the train station. So we meandered over to check out the painting, ceramics, jewelry, and other arts on display. It was a lovely summer day, and we had no pressing engagements. I kept sneaking glances at my daughter, marveling at the glorious 19-year-old she has become. I kept pinching myself to make sure this was all real.

In a week, we will be dropping our daughter off at college more than 1,000 miles away from home. She is so ready, and we are thrilled to be able to see her off on her next stage of life. (Just kidding. I’m an emotional wreck.) I plan to enjoy these last few days of togetherness with her and store them up in my memory banks for years to come.

COVID Mall Madness

Up until recently, I had managed to avoid any trips to our local shopping mall since the state had allowed nonessential businesses to reopen. Never having been a big shopper, I haven’t really missed the mall. But back to school is upon us, and my daughter needed a few things before she leaves for college. So off we went.

The Nordstrom store was fairly empty considering that they were holding their biggest sale of the year. Sale areas were roped off, and gatekeepers were there to make sure not too many people shopped in the same area at the same time. The whole place seemed too bright and curiously devoid of merchandise, as if I’d stepped into a dream about shopping at Nordstrom.

Out in the mall area, masked shoppers waited in socially distanced lines to go into various shops. Popular places like the Apple Store had little tents to keep out the sun. I just could not imagine waiting in these lines to pick up a new bra from Victoria’s Secret or a candle from Bath & Body Works. And I wondered aloud to my daughter what Christmas shopping was going to look like in the year of COVID-19.

Up in the food court area, things seemed a bit more normal. There were fewer tables in order to keep diners spaced apart. But people noshed on sandwiches and ice cream without their masks, so it felt a little more like the old days. The one sign that things were not what they seemed was the shuttered AMC movie theater. I have read that AMC is planning to reopen soon with 15 cent movie tickets to lure people back. Moviegoing has already taken a huge hit from the plethora of technology and streaming services that allow viewers to enjoy entertainment in the comfort of their homes. I can’t imagine setting foot into a movie theater any time soon.

Our shopping expedition was a bust. I was reluctant to go into stores, and my daughter found nothing to buy in the couple of places we entered. We ended up with a pair of athletic socks and, at least in my case, the knowledge that there would be no temptation to revisit the mall anytime soon.

Online shopping has been a huge help to us all during the coronavirus shutdown. I have been able to find what I need without leaving the safety of my home. Even furnishing my daughter’s dorm room can be done remotely. But the convenience of the internet has caused shopping malls to become increasingly obsolete. Even before COVID-19, malls were struggling to find a new recipe to attract customers. After my outing the other day, I fear that coronavirus may sound the death knell of the mall as we know it.

Where are the mall rats to go?

Read Me a Story

If you’re in need of a little TLC, why not have Tom Hanks tell you a story? With just a smart phone and a library card, you can listen to everyone’s favorite Bosom Buddy read an audiobook such as my current title, The Dutch House by Ann Patchett.

Audiobooks are the ideal way to spend long hours driving or walking. In the past few  years, I’ve had occasion to make out-of-state trips by myself and decided to “read” a novel along the way. I listened to an Irishwoman voice the many characters in Maeve Binchey’s Minding Frankie. I loved Claire Danes’ dramatic rendering of The Handmaid’s Tale, a book I’d read many years ago and wanted to revisit. I even managed to complete such must-read titles as Little Women and Anne of Green Gables, all while clocking the miles.

I can listen to an audiobook while accomplishing other tasks. Chopping vegetables or folding laundry are mundane and repetitive activities that are much improved by listening to a good story. And audiobooks have even improved my fitness. If I’m listening to a gripping book such as Emma Donoghue’s Room while out walking, I am much more likely to want to walk farther and for longer periods of time. I also prefer listening to watching TV when I am on a treadmill. It’s hard to focus on a screen with my whole body in motion but easy to listen to a disembodied voice while learning about The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg.

The key to a good audiobook is, of course, a good reader. Sometimes authors read their own work successfully. Malcolm Gladwell has a great voice and reads all of his own books. But many authors are great at creating the written word but not so gifted at speaking it. A good reader – essentially a voice actor – can bring their work alive. Such is the case with Tom Hanks’s wonderful narration of The Dutch House.

I hadn’t been planning to read Ann Patchett’s newest novel. I’d read one of her books in the past and hadn’t loved it. But Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich wrote a piece on recommended reading, and Hanks’s audiobook was one of her suggestions. The Dutch House is a story of a family and the centrality of the house to their development, trials and tribulations. Hanks has that warm and folksy timbre to his voice with just enough sass to enliven the first person narration and the brother-sister dynamic in the book.

There is a reason that being read to is such a cherished childhood memory for so many people. The warmth of a story cascading over us, allowing our imagination to conjure worlds while safely tucked under the arm of a loved one. Currently my daughter is rereading the Harry Potter series by listening to a succession of actors and ordinary readers voice the likes of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Snape and the rest. I fondly remember reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to a couple of my kids when they were younger. I’m sure that listening to the series recaptures some of that childhood for my youngest.

So if you have no time to read or your eyes are just too tired at the end of the day, give an audiobook a try. In these troubled times, it can’t hurt to be lulled to sleep by the likes of Tom Hanks.