Everything is getting cancelled: opera, plays, sports, travel, school, campaign rallies. Canned goods and staples are getting plucked from grocery shelves. We decided to postpone a small dinner party we had scheduled for this week, all in the name of social distancing.
Was that a necessary action? I don’t know. But we’re all responsible for the potential spread of the coronavirus and the only sure way to do your part is not to expose yourself or others. And inviting people into my home, even my friends — well, that’s my bunker. Home is where I ride out storms.
It’s not that hard for me, this social distancing and hunkering down. I’m a writer. I work from home. I’m often alone. I can go for days without interacting with anyone except my family. I haven’t even started my car in two days.
Most people don’t have that advantage (I do consider those things an advantage). Most people have to get to work. They have to ride on public transit. Their jobs put them in contact with many people. And then there are those who still think this coronavirus thing is a hoax, a liberal conspiracy, a deep-state maneuver. To them I say: Please go hide in your own bunker. And stay there.
It’s a good time to settle in and read a novel. Try STASH. Or CLEAN BREAK. And wash your hands.
