The Pandemic Blues, Part 8: Being a Worry Wart in the Time of COVID-19

These worries date from July, but they are just as relevant and real in October, and will continue to be, as long as we continue to have our lives ruled by the pandemic, and the country’s haphazard handling of it.
Thanks to the leadership void on the federal level, Americans have been at the mercy of governors like the one in Florida who have opened up their states with little or no restrictions, or like the ones in the Northeast, who every time their cases spike after they relax the rules or move into a new phase, respond with threats to lock us all down again, or revert to an earlier phases when a lot less was open.
With such a contradictory and aimless approach by the federal and state governments --- which leave the vast majority of us just trying to cope every day with our leaders’ abject failures --- it’s little wonder that these worries will unfortunately be with us for a very long while. 
Given that backdrop, here’s a thought: Instead of being patronized and insulted by the federal government’s “leaders” – and being constantly scolded, lectured and threatened by our governors and mayors and other local officials – could someone just actually start CARING A LITTLE about Americans, who justifiably worry that it will be YEARS before any kind of “normalcy” returns. 

This column was published in the July 2020 edition of Jewish Rhode Island of Providence, RI

Ever since I was a kid, I've been a worry wart. I would often redo my homework in a bid for perfection and I'd repeatedly study for tests. Although that gave me reasonably good grades, it was no help when it came to getting a decent score on the math SATs.
Excessive worrying followed me into adulthood, which is why I started going gray in my 20s. It’s never abated, and with that kind of a track record, it's easy to imagine how being in the midst of a pandemic has intensified my worrying. My concerns include many of the larger issues we're all dealing with, and those will be the topic of today’s class: “COVID-19 Pandemic Worrying 101.”
* Virtual vs. real-world living: As I wrote last month, I had tried to make the best of it when a favorite road race and major charitable event were forced online. They turned out well enough as I pushed myself in the 5K despite running alone, and the virtual Relay For Life fundraiser for the American Cancer Society featured many aspects of an in-person relay.
Yet both events left me with an empty feeling, because they weren’t nearly as spiritually or emotionally fulfilling as the live events they had replaced. That’s because the participants thrive on human interaction at such events.
Races, for example, are meant to be both athletic competitions and a chance to socialize, while the strength of a fundraiser such as the relay for life is its human connections. Watching videos of survivors and luminaira --- candles dedicated to cancer victims and survivors --- can be inspirational, but the experience is infinitely more meaningful while being there watching survivors circle a track lit up by the luminaira.
That's important to remember in this era where we've been told repeatedly by government and health officials that we must adhere to “social distancing” as the “new normal.” But those officials’ lack of empathy for what we humans are missing is why I’m extremely worried about our future --- especially when I hear so-called experts speculate that handshakes and hugs will become ancient history. Such an outcome would strip us of our basic humanity.
* Eating out: I worry whether the new limits will ever be lifted to allow us to feel at ease while eating at restaurants. The rules at restaurants in Rhode Island and Massachusetts might be necessary, but they’re still too restrictive to let people feel relaxed. That's why, while the current situation might suit many diners, I prefer getting take-out food and eating it at home, where relaxation is guaranteed.
* Attending concerts, shows and sporting events: I wonder whether those events will ever be the same. Will we all be required to have Smart phones (I still own a “dumb” flip one) to reveal, Big Brother style, our personal medical data, in order to attend? Will we be unable to sit next to anyone, thereby depriving us of companionship and conversations? Will large gatherings be off-limits to people older than 60 as ageism becomes both acceptable and encouraged in a society where senior citizens could be viewed as not part of the general population? Will wearing masks become permanent as government bureaucrats try to impose even more control over our lives in an attempt to eradicate the spread of the common cold and the flu? That may sound extreme, but all bets are off these days.
* Travel: My wife and I will soon be mostly retired, and we had planned on traveling, especially during the winter when a warmer climate would hold more appeal. We also wanted to take some big trips such as visiting Alaska. But now – between the rules in other states, on airlines and at hotels and resorts – I wonder about the feasibility of doing that.
Even taking a short vacation has become problematic. Going to Maine, for instance, where we’ve spent a week in past summers, wouldn't be possible now as the state has a mandatory 14-day quarantine period on all out-of-state tourists except for those from Vermont and New Hampshire unless you can produce a negative test result taken within 72 hours of arriving in Maine --- something that isn't practical  considering the lack of testing for those who are asymptomatic. The bottom line: Traveling has become so restrictive that “stay-cations” appear the only sensible solution for the foreseeable future.
* Schools and colleges: I worry that too many academic institutions will fall back on offering virtual instruction or a mix of classroom and online learning. That approach may be deemed necessary, but it will unquestionably cheat today's students out of what they deserve: a well-rounded education that includes participation in extracurricular activities and sports. Trying to be excessively cautious is one thing, but at what point does that approach become harmful to students?
Although different eras can't be compared, it's telling that when I started school in the late 1950s, I did so without a polio vaccine, and in my early elementary years, I received both the Salk and Sabin vaccines. In addition, in this era when it seems large swaths of the American public are unaware of history beyond what can be found on the latest social media posts, it’s instructive to remember that before immunizations became routine for chicken pox, mumps, measles and German measles, students were expected to get those diseases, and “share” them with their siblings. I got all of those diseases, and the Boston schools were never closed to protect their spread.
Class is over, but I'm still worried about whether we’ll ever get back even part of our “old normal” lives.