Op/Ed
Jessie Raymond: Is there really a lighter side to a pandemic?

Perhaps you’ve been wondering, as I have, about the protocol for writing a humor column during a pandemic.
I couldn’t find an official ruling, so I’m working on the premise that it’s acceptable to joke around in the face of an unprecedented, growing, global viral outbreak as long as you maintain a constant sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.
That works for me.
But the writing has been tough; pandemics are generally not that funny. I’ve been trying all week to make the term “flatten the curve” into a double entendre, and I’ve got nothing.
Usually, I’m not a worrier; I just assume things will be fine. Remember how, years ago, swarms of killer bees were supposedly migrating up from South America to kill us all? I didn’t panic. And the bees still aren’t here.
I tend to take most dire warnings with a grain of salt. I’ve always been unflappable that way.
But this is different.
I’ve heard a few people insist that this whole coronavirus thing is overblown. “It’s no worse than the flu,” they say, defiantly licking the nearest handrail.
Thanks, but I prefer to take my COVID-19 cues from medical experts and epidemiologists. And every one of them is concerned.
I’m not just afraid of catching and spreading coronavirus; I’m freaked out by the social and economic impacts we’re already seeing. My blissfully uneventful life is being upended by a worldwide situation that is now affecting Vermont.
I hate to say it, but these days I’m downright flappable.
I worry about the health of loved ones. I worry about how our community is going to weather the hit to businesses and workers. I worry that our cat doesn’t like me that much (granted, that has nothing to do with coronavirus).
If there’s any bright side at all for Mark and me, it’s that staying home — our default setting — is now encouraged. In this critical moment, we’re not boring homebodies; we’re masters of “social distancing.”
I admit I’m a tiny bit gleeful to embrace self-isolation, but I liked it better when we were doing it just because we’re dull. Under the current circumstances, it feels scary.
The old me, the one who scoffed at killer bees, is gone. The new me is wary and distracted, and for good reason. In my opinion, if you’re sleeping well these days, you’re not paying attention.
For many of us, this crisis is the first time we’ve ever faced the possibility of hardship. In my whole life I’ve been — at worst — mildly inconvenienced a few times. And that was brutal.
What if we don’t have enough of what we need in the coming months? (See the thing about not sleeping, above.)
And that brings me to the two-ply elephant in the room.
Desperate to exercise perceived control over this situation, some people have set out to acquire a lifetime supply of toilet paper.
It doesn’t seem that practical to me, but I get it.
Mark and I are not similarly stockpiling Charmin, but only because we are lucky enough to have a bidet, or as Mark calls it, “that sprayer thingy on the toilet.” Our hearty endorsement of this magical device deserves a column of its own, but for now I’ll just say it frees us from the urge to hoard TP. And that lets us direct our anxieties to other irrational behaviors.
For me, it’s bulk buying vegetable seeds to fight my hopefully unfounded fear of food insecurity.
I’m not much of a gardener. I know very well the long, laborious distance between buying colorful seed packets (fun and easy!) and actually putting a meaningful amount of food on the table (lots of work!). Too bad the seed packets themselves aren’t edible; I’d be able to feed all of Addison County.
I know my frantic seed buying is ridiculous. But at a time like this, I think we can all be forgiven for exhibiting some eccentric behaviors. There’s a level of uncertainty associated with this pandemic that is unlike anything most of us have ever lived through, and it’s putting us on edge.
So I hope, as we stumble blindly into the unknowable future, we can still share a (nervous) laugh now and then — preferably from the safety of our own homes.
Remember: We’re all in this together. Just not literally.
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