#StayAtHome aka When Will it End & Other Musings

New Yorkers are a resourceful group for the most part, but we are also impatient, easily distracted, and busy. We are very, very busy. Don’t ask us what’s our hurry, you’ll be met with a bleary-eyed scowl of contempt. Don’t believe me? Ever walked down a street in mid-town Manhattan in the middle of the day? Everyone is rushing. People dart, purposefully, in and out of any who seem to have all the time in the world – aka tourists. You take your life in your hands just to walk a few blocks. At least this was the case before. Before #stayathome was a thing. Before our streets looked like this…

You can always tell the New Yorker from the rest of the pedestrians. We’re the ones who are waiting for the light to change like race horses out of the starting gate, jockeying for position, ensuring we’re the first to begin crossing seconds before the light actually changes, because that’s what we do. It’s in our blood. Even those of us who weren’t born and raised in New York City, that need to get across the street before the rest of the pack, and don’t kid yourself, it is a need; it’s part of our DNA. It’s probably what attracted us to NYC in the first place.

So telling us that we must stay home, not for weeks, but for months and months, that we mustn’t venture out unless we are in need of something essential, which might explain the run on toilet paper (for actual reasons see note below) merely an excuse to leave the house – is cruel and unusual punishment. Picture a race horse cooped up in a tiny stall for months on end and you’ll get a good idea of what it’s like for NYers. By the way, race horses are routinely given small animals to placate them, like a goat, sheep or chicken and though we’re not allowed to keep such animals in our homes here in New York City, dog walking has never seemed more enticing and exciting.

Which also explains why a trip to Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s feels like a thrilling adventure. My husband and I refer to it as a “date”. As in, “hey honey, want to go out?” And the other responds, “Absolutely, which will it be?”

“I was thinking of shaking things up!”

“Oh, really?!!”

“What do you say we head over to Gristede’s just to take a look.”

“Going downmarket, are we?”

“I can do Wholefoods, just thought it’d be fun to spread the love.”

“Absolutely! Gristede’s will be fun!”

And off we go, hand in hand, reveling in our courage and sheer inventiveness to try new things, still, after so many decades of marriage.

This is what the lockdown has done to us. We are a changed group. New Yorkers, known for their edginess are becoming downright pedestrian. We wear sweatpants and wander around in slippers, our hair unbrushed, sometimes for days. When we venture out we stroll, no longer needing to rush, we stop in the middle of the street to take photographs of flowers and our city, now unrecognizable. We smile at each other, even stop to chat with complete strangers. We even wave to our neighbors. People we’ve never exchanged two words with, we now know their names and the names of their children and pets. We know intimate details about each other, such as whether we tested positive for antibodies. I’m telling you, it’s a changed world…

*Fun Fact: I did a little research and learned that one of the main reasons there continues to be a run on TP is due to the fact that everyone is now at home and not going into their offices, which stock an inferior type of TP, versus the coveted TP most of us prefer. Evidently the machines producing the inferior, industrial brand TP are different from the machines churning out the more luxurious, cushiony and soft TP we use at home and therefore the production is not able to keep up with demand. For those of you wanting to know more – https://www.usatoday.com/story/money/2020/04/08/coronavirus-shortage-where-has-all-the-toilet-paper-gone/2964143001/

6 thoughts on “#StayAtHome aka When Will it End & Other Musings

  1. Thanks for the little giggle. A way with words. We feel the same. We went to a hardware store the other day and it was exciting. Hey, I got to buy a new plastic container for my threads! Take care. Embrace the slowness because the fast paced life will eventually return.

    Like

  2. I got so tickled readying your post. I’m from a very small town Of under 800. Compared to NY things here are excruciatingly slow. But we love it. We know most of our neighbors by name. My neighborhood has a little better than an acre average per home. Some have small live stock, some with ducks and so on.
    My husband grew up out here so when we were on our way home my husband (date) back then kept waving at people as they drove by. I said, you know all these people? In return he said no, it’s just what we do out here. If someone doesn’t wave it’s a sure thing they don’t live here. Yes, I was from the city! Little did I know then I too would be living out here.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. So I’m in south Florida and. Most days are beautiful. I am amazed at the number of people walking, riding their bikes. I try to get outside on the weekends since I’ve been working from home now with my husband for months. When we float in the pool we can actually feel the vitamin d sinking into us. It’s quite an odd feeling but soothing at the same time. Our big date is to do a drive through somewhere and find a shady spot in a parking lot to eat in the car..we really only do that to promote the local businesses in the area. I am finally going to my local quilt shop tomorrow so I’m pretty excited about that!

    Like

Leave a Reply to Joyce Breeden Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.