The Pandemic Blues, looking back, Part 1

Let's face it: We're all suffering from COVID-19 fatigue, and as the fall arrives, predictions and expectations that we're in it for the long haul --- possibly well into 2021 --- make us feel even more depressed and uneasy, Many of our psyches have been scarred and our nerves frayed by the endless worries and concerns about this novel coronavirus pandemic. 
With that in mind, I thought it'd be instructive to take a look at how long this journey has been by sharing some of the columns that I wrote on the pandemic, starting in March, with the implementation of the lockdown. This review won't necessarily make you feel better about the nation's disjointed and dysfunctional approach to the pandemic -- with each state's confusing and conflicting regulations and no clear national consensus, but it's my hope that it provides you with some perspective on our never-ending battle with this virus.
Stay safe and healthy!

NOTE: This first column I wrote about the pandemic was published online in late March on the Jewish Rhode Island of Providence, RI, website and in its April print edition.

As I write this in mid-March, uncertainty abounds over the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, but one thing is certain: No matter how long the outbreak and its fallout last, it has already hurt the quality of our lives, and has made us care even more deeply about the kinds of activities that we otherwise take for granted.
That's because, even though most Americans realize it's a serious situation, it's hard to accept the severe restrictions imposed on our personal lives because of the virus, since past pandemics, including the H1N1 swine flu outbreak in 2009-10, never reached this level. In those other outbreaks, people, for instance, weren't thrown out of work, closed off from their schools and colleges, told they couldn’t patronize bars and restaurants or were cut off from their houses of worship. Not since 9/11 changed how we travel and made us more vigilant about going about our daily routines has American life been changed so dramatically, and so rapidly.
What's been especially tough about this particular crisis – which has emptied supermarket shelves and drained us of our good humor and much of our positive outlook on life – is that it's stolen from us the very things that make us human.
Think about it. Thanks to a phrase that sounds like it came right out of George Orwell's “1984” – the sterile term “social distancing” – we're now either too panicked or too afraid to greet friends with hugs or handshakes. We also can no longer meet friends for lunch or dinner – or take our spouses and families out for a night on the town, as for a while at least, cinemas, live theater, museums and concerts have been shuttered.
And to make the restrictions even more personal, with Passover approaching, many people are no doubt going to think twice about opening up their Seders to friends and relatives --- something that many of us used to do without thinking.
At least for the foreseeable future, we can no longer count on enjoying the simple pleasures in life, and that's taking a terrible toll on our psyches. The sad truth is that, although corporations hurt by COVID-19 might be bailed out with billions, just as they were after the Great Recession of 2008-09, no one will be able to bail average Americans out of the many missed moments that this COVID-19 scourge is producing. For instance:
* Students may not be able to walk across the stage to accept their high school, undergraduate or graduate degrees.
* College and high school athletes are being cheated out of a whole season of sports, including the ever-popular March Madness.
* Students at every level will have a far less fulfilling education as a result of missing what used to be a normal classroom-based education complete with student-teacher or student-professor interactions.
* Major community events put on by non-profits, which serve a dual purpose of nurturing our need for fellowship and raising essential funds for an agency or a museum, for instance, are being wiped out. The cancellation, for example, of the Attleboro Arts Museum's hugely popular flower show, which brings a smile to the hundreds who attend over four days and raises $30,000 to keep the museum in the black, is merely one such example of how so many charitable groups and non-profits have been adversely affected by this outbreak.
* The absence of sports at all levels has created a particularly painful void in the lives of those of us who embrace athletic events. I'm especially talking about the absence of baseball, which has delivered a blow to the spirits of people like myself who enjoy reading about and watching the games.
In this area, baseball fans in particular look forward all winter to spending spring and summer afternoons and evenings at McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket, where the game's action often takes a back seat to the conversation that ensues between old friends over the three-plus hours that it usually takes to complete an average nine-inning game.
That tradition is as old as the game itself and always reconnects me to the days when I went to Boston Red Sox games at Fenway Park with my Dad. Those years instilled a lifelong love of baseball in me, and that's why it depresses me to think that there’s a chance that there might not be any baseball in 2020.
Such an outcome would be especially distressing in Southeastern Massachusetts and Rhode Island, because that would mean that the 2019 PawSox season will have wound up being its last one since the Triple A farm team of the Red Sox is moving to Worcester for the 2021 season.
Of course, the absence of sports and the other activities that we're missing out on is secondary to the well-being of everyone, so let us hope and pray that the current threat doesn't endure for months -- and that we emerge soon from this unsettling period in good health.