When We Get Back to Normal...

When We Get Back

To Normal…

An innocent enough phrase, for a less-than-innocent phase. A phrase I’ve used in the past, “When we get back to Normal…” sometimes relating to returning from a vacation (since I live in Normal, IL), listing all the chores that I’d need to get going. Sometimes relating to a need to return to a state of normalcy from an upheaval. It’s never seemed quite so monumental as it does now. In fact, it seems to have evolved to a slightly different wording: “IF we get back to normal…” Ominous.

It seems that our entire planet, our civilization, our lifestyle, has been taken hostage by a microscopic entity referred to as Covid-19 or the Coronavirus. Every facet of our lives has been affected; from work, to socializing, to how we spend our leisure time. We’ve been directed (wisely, I believe) to work from home if possible, to keep six feet away from others when out, to not touch our faces (I never realized how often I do this!), to wash our hands frequently, to disinfect our environment, etc. Essentially we must avoid all physical human contact, but if we can’t avoid contact, we need to sterilize all possible areas of contamination from this contact.

At my house, my wife is lucky enough to be able to work from home. Her employer (Illinois State University) provided the staff in her department with laptops that were somehow (magically, I think) directly connected with each individual’s computer at the office. There were a few glitches at first, but within a couple of days, it appeared to work smoothly. She has her “home office” set up in her craft room. So between emails, video meetings, and phone calls, she can do a bit of basket weaving while enjoying a movie. It appears to me that her work goes on as best it can, given the circumstances. She still does her weekly grocery shopping as before, with one glaring difference. The stores do not allow customers to use their own bags, so we are now accumulating a number of plastic grocery store bags, sigh.

My world is also a bit unsettled, in my mind, anyway. Most of what I normally do this time of the year, I’m doing. Perhaps to the beat of a different drummer, but this world keeps on turning. I’m still working, since our state government has designated bicycle shops as “essential” services, due to our connection with peoples’ transportation. That first week after the Governor’s March 14 announcement of “shelter in place”, I worked a normal work week.The notable difference was the lack of customer traffic in the front of the store. Due to this slowdown, by week’s end I’d finished most all of the service tickets in the shop. Friday afternoon I was informed that I should not come in to work until I was needed. I completely understood, and that next week I did a few basement and garage projects that had been floating around in my head, waiting until I could find the time. I had actually started one of these projects a few weeks before, working several hours on my days off. I found myself wishing I’d waited to start, so I would have more to occupy my now-abundant free time. Thursday I got a message from my shop’s owner that he could use my help with repairs on Friday. I gladly went in, and also worked two days the following week. So, in those first couple weeks of the slowdown, I worked a total of three days of my usual schedule of eight.

Apparently, by now the bicycle riding public had grown tired of staying at home, and the shop service department was getting more repairs daily, so we had to improvise a work schedule to deal with the upswing. To minimize our exposure, we split the four mechanics into two shifts, two working seven until noon, and the other two working from noon until six. I was put on the “late” shift, for several legitimate reasons. It works for me, I don’t have to set an alarm to get to work by noon (although I find myself a creature of habit, waking from my slumber by 5:30 most every morning.) This allows me ample time for a couple cups of coffee, perusal of the morning paper, and….well, anything that tickles my fancy. Weather permitting, I have time to get out for a couple of hours on a bike.

When I ride, the world is simultaneously the same as before...and yet eerily different. I ride on familiar roads (at this stage, there aren’t many unfamiliar roads nearby), seeing familiar sights. The traffic seems a bit lighter than before, but that may be in my mind. I ride past a farmer finishing harvesting last fall’s corn crop, waving as I do. I wonder what calamity caused him to not finish last fall, but I don’t know his plight. It’s definitely spring now, and I see the expected usual farm activity in the fields. Farmers are out tilling, spreading chemicals, and I expect to soon see the planters out sowing the seeds of the 2020 crops. 

The first few times as I prepared to ride, I instinctively reached for my riding “wallet” containing a credit card and some cash for a late ride refreshment. Nope, I’m not going to be in need of that...none of the places I’d regularly stop at would be open. Sigh. I miss those stops. I miss my friends. I miss together. I understand why we’re doing this, and I agree that we must do this. It’s an adjustment, but an adjustment we need to make to ensure people live. That’s what it all comes down to. We (I) do this, we make sacrifices, so we can save lives. I’m willing, and I hope you are too. In time, this will be in our rearview mirror, and maybe we can get...

...Back to Normal