Surreal this pandemic. Above and beyond anything most of us have experienced in a lifetime, unless you were alive during the 1918 Spanish flu outbreak; which would mean that you’re 102 and can’t remember anything anyway.
Every day, the prime minister emerges from a door to tell us in no uncertain terms that failure to adhere to the orders issued by the soft-spoken Bonnie Henry, the provincial health boss, will result in fines and even prison terms.
The most important order is to remain two metres away from other persons; which might make sex a bit of a problem, but we must all make sacrifices.
If you have the virus, you are to “self-isolate” which means ‘go to your room young man/woman until I tell you to come out!’
Stay at home, eat drink, gain weight, and watch 12 hours of TV a day.
Those of us accustomed to going to the gym – which is closed – are really going to pack on the pounds.
Oh sure, we can walk or ride the bike unless of course years of jogging and mail delivery haven’t left you with osteoarthritis in the hips and knees.
Fine if you have a home gym or even an exercise bike, but half the fun of going to a gym is the social interaction.
So we sit it out for months, maybe, before we go back to normal – providing there isn’t a second wave (according to the experts).
We seek out low-talkers like Bonnie Henry to assuage our fears, we admire the intellect, the look of deputy PM Freeland in her red dress as she reassures the nation that we’ll come through this unscathed unless – like 100s of young people, you’ve ignored the rules, frolicked on the beach, played volleyball – convinced you’re invulnerable.
And the virus will become a footnote in history, like SARS and Donald Trump.
Tim Tyler, Maple Ridge
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