Day 41

Pandemic. It’s hard for me to make sense of the fact that, as a pandemic, the Dread Virus is happening everywhere. That’s bad. Of course it’s bad to have a deadly virus attacking people in every part of the world. But there’s something amazing, even inspiring, about the fact that the whole world is sharing this common experience.

Think how many languages are being used right now to moan about being stuck in the house. In every corner of the world, families of every kind and color are ready to strangle each other. Everybody gets to be a member of the Dread Virus Isolation Club.

I know that doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll be beating our swords into plowshares. Fear engenders distrust and all that. Shared isolation is still isolating. But it’s not nothing, to have a big compelling piece of history to which we’re all part owners.

On the other hand, it’s annoying that everyone else is going through the same stuff I am. Every day six things happen to me that are weirder and more interesting than anything I did last year. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say the last 41 days have been more storygenic than the entire decade between 2007 and 2017. But all the weird stuff that happened to me this month happened to everybody else, too. It feels unfair, in such a big adventure, to know that nobody’s ever going to fill up my wine glass at Thanksgiving and goad me in to telling that amazing pandemic story one more time, for the cousins who haven’t heard it yet.

At least I hope not.

Here’s to a boring pandemic for me and for all.