Social Distancing?
I’ve taken some of my “forced time” off work to clean out my closets. In one, I found a box with a brand new pair of shoes. I kind of remember buying them sometime in the past but forgot I had them. They are white tennis/gym shoes. Since I don’t play tennis or work out in a gym, I christened them as my new pair of walking shoes.
Keeping with the social distancing rules and the guidance from our governor to stay both physically and mentally healthy, I met a friend to walk with – 6 feet apart – at the Crestview Hills Town Center. We parked several parking spots away from each other and walked on opposite sides of the sidewalk. When I wanted to take a break, we sat on opposite ends of a long bench. There were a few other people there – some walking alone and some couples. The couples were allowed and did walk closer together.
How strange it seemed – so empty – with the music still playing.
I was reminded of a scene I once saw on 60 Minutes of the deserted Chernobyl site in the former USSR. They had a nuclear disaster back in 1986 at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. The nearby city of Pripyat was evacuated and has stayed empty to this day except for the few workers still cleaning up the disaster. Music plays to keep up the spirits of the workers. Maybe that’s why the town center kept the music on – to keep our spirits up.
The only places open in the inner circle of the Town Center were First Watch – for carryout only – and Omaha Steaks. We still need to eat and eat well. The shop I miss most is Patty’s Old Fashioned Popcorn. They have actually been closed for several years, but I still miss them. Patty’s has the best cheese popcorn in the Tri-State! I’ve been meaning to visit their Hyde Park location. But right now, I’m not allowed to cross state lines (through no fault of my own).
It was certainly strange to have almost the whole place to ourselves.
Some people were quite creative with the open space. A family of three was taking advantage of the empty Town Center streets and bicycling where the cars usually pack the way. How nice to see. It was actually a nicer scene than the cars vying for parking spots. Too much of our world is reserved for parking spots. It’s more noticeable now.
As my friend and I parted, we wished each other well and went our separate ways. When I passed a local restaurant with a drive-thru, I saw three young men eating their lunch in the parking lot. Each had brought and sat in his own chair, and they observed the “6 feet of separation” rule. We still need the connection to others, even just to see each other and share a meal in the most bizarre way.
We are social beings and that will never change.
This was so evident when I watched the senators in the Kentucky Senate Chambers the other week on KET. During a recess, a few senators couldn’t help but break the “social distancing” rule by holding a lengthy conversation while standing right next to each other. The next week in the Kentucky House Chambers, those sitting up front right beneath the House leaders were sitting right next to each other. I mean right next to each other. No empty chairs between them. My friend and I knew better than that when we sat on the park bench as far apart as possible.
I was tempted to report them to Governor Beshear’s hotline for non-compliance, but they can’t help it. Just like we all can’t help it sometimes. By nature we are social beings. A more startling way to say it is: we are pack animals. It’s in our DNA. We like to travel and hang out in packs. Dogs and other animals like to travel in packs too. Good luck with the 6 feet distancing rule with them. But we can do it, right?
Why is this social distancing request so hard for us to understand and follow through with?
In some ways, the phrase “social distancing” is an oxymoron. Being social has nothing to do with being distant. When one says or even thinks about the phrase, what comes to mind first is “being together with others.” Maybe a better phrase to use is “physical distancing” as Wikipedia suggests.
Also, when you distance yourself from a specific someone at an event or party, it’s typically because you “don’t” want to be around that person, not that you “can’t.”
Maybe it would be more effective if we think of distancing ourselves from others as extending one’s personal space. Personal space is considered two or three feet – at least an arm’s length away. A physically “safe distance” these days is double or triple that.
Another way to look at it is to consider the danger zone. According to the health experts, putting ourselves closer than 6 feet to others puts us in the danger zone. But most of us only view closeness as potentially dangerous if it’s someone we aren’t familiar with or don’t know at all.
“Stranger danger” can perk up our alarm signals. That doesn’t happen with your neighbors, co-workers, friends or even the familiar clerk at the grocery store. These people would never contract something dangerous and give it to me just like I would never do that to them.
How simple these times would be if only wishing that would make it true.
It’s continually repeated to us that to beat this virus, we simply have to stay away from each other. Much easier said than done. Particularly because in times of trouble, the first thing we humans want to do is comfort, support, and be with one another.
One day, we will be together again at places like town centers, malls, restaurants, movie theaters, and sporting events. It won’t be like Chernobyl which is uninhabitable for thousands of years to come. Our buildings are still here and are still suitable for us to gather in. They are just waiting for us to come back. Then we can rebuild the economic infrastructure around them by all of us “being together” when it’s time.
We are in a much better situation than we could be. We can pull together and pick up where we left off, again, when it’s time.
And we may just come away with a deeper understanding of what it means to be human beings and how interconnected we are no matter how much we all see ourselves as independent. On the April 1st episode of the ABC show “Schooled,” I heard the most timely remark – “Life is a group experience.”
We’re learning that the hard way right now in more ways than one, aren’t we?
No fooling!
Lynn James is a lifelong resident of Northern Kentucky and has lived in Boone, Kenton and Campbell counties. She enjoys living and observing real life with real people.