Social distancing used to mean giving the weirdest kid on the bus some “space” on long rides home after a high school fencing meet. Maybe it was his acne caused by excessive face touching or a certain unarticulated quality that placed him in the pantheon of adolescent outcasts. In later years, such behavior denoted bullying. The darker side of pacificism is total indifference. We didn’t care whether you lived or cried. This means something much different in the last 72 hours or so.
In an effort to maintain good health, we’re being told to avoid kissing and hugging in public. What in private still demonstrates questionable judgment. In some cases, companies are sending people home. This a huge boon for the working-from-home crowd. Good, honest, enterprising folks who’ve been banging the drum of unshaven, remote work for years. They believe, rightfully so, that the best work goes on behind closed doors and in the privacy of your own home. Without the long eye of Johnny HR, people are free to kick back and really get down to business. Your boss can't see you but most importantly, he can't cough on you.
There are those who see darker repercussions to what’s transpiring. That in keeping our distance we’ll lose what makes us compassionate human beings. I’m not buying it. And dear God, I hope you’re not selling it.
The social fabric could benefit from a little gentle fraying. The torn quilt of an era that's perfectly antiquated. The fabric has been nearly threadbare since Silicon Valley desperadoes came into town on palominos made of money. Microchip misanthropes telling us what to do and how to think. To me, large social gatherings have always been disgusting displays of idiocy and mass delusion. Is there a worse moment in human history than Woodstock aka The Triumph of the Hippie?
We’ve been on our own for a long while and that’s just fine. Who needs a hug when you can wave? Handshakes should’ve gone out of fashion with the bowler hat and opium den. Give me a thumbs up and move on with your life. Touching someone is the sort of intimacy I thought we were past. Stare, grin, smile. All three convey varied emotions and nuance that make every cheek peck totally superfluous.
Mobs aren’t exactly innocent throughout the years either. Large groups have done everything from burn heretics at the stake to shame sports fans into doing the wave. Both evil in their own way. Emails don’t require unnecessary fluids like the insane practice of licking envelopes. It’s 2020, friends. If I want your DNA, there are much, much easier ways to get it. There are websites devoted to the subject, so while I appreciate the gesture, please don’t drop it in the mail. Ok?
This is what's called, "individual effervescence." Quite a concept.
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