Mask in place, and with madame’s shopping list held in hands protected by thin plastic gloves, I strolled into the big box grocery store for the basics of everyday living in these bizarre times.
Milk, eggs, vegetables, flour, dairy products, a six-pack and our favorite frozen pizza or two were on the list of staples one needs to make life easier in these stressful days. Liquid soap and “some kind of sanitizing agent” had question marks next to each item.
Not now. Maybe later, is the implication.
The expected horde of shoppers with massive cartloads of goods were not to be seen, but how can you stock up for a month when there are empty shelves scattered higgledy-piggledy throughout the store. Although the pizza section was barren and there was no soap or any kind of sanitizer, one could sense people were careful of each other’s presence.
The 6-feet rule, well maybe 4 1/2 feet, was in operation. Often, when passing another person similarly shielded, there would be a casual glance or a nod toward the other. It was a case of different masks pulling oars in the same boat.
There were other stores with empty shelves. Why bother, I thought. I need to check with Bob. In these distressful days, some turn to religion for support, some to alcohol for comfort. I rely on Bob for guidance. He never fails to provide cheer.
Bob is a nearly 3-foot high stuffed doll in the shape of a leading character in the popular Minion movies. These days Bob sits in the front window our house, its googly eyes staring toward the street. Because of the events of the day, its mouth is covered by an oversize mask. Minions, as you probably know, do not have noses.
The doll is a vital prop for the South Cook Section of the National Council of Jewish Women’s Traveling Players. The 57-year-old community project is comprised of a dozen women of different faiths who perform original musical skits two Thursdays a month in schools for children with special needs from Chicago Heights to Northbrook.
Each member of the troupe portrays a well-known character, such as Sponge Bob or Mickey Mouse, as they interact with students and staff in song and skits. The message they deliver is one of acceptance and self-esteem.
We need that that memo delivered to all of us in a time that defies logic.
We want to be free to live a normal life, but we do not want to spit into the wind of a pandemic. We want to keep stores open and people working, but open doors may more easily expose both worker and customer to the virus. We wish our houses of worship to re-open and our senior living facilities to be safe, and are repelled by protest signs, some of which blame a religion for the virus while others suggest that the old and weak probably need to die so others can go to work.
We establish free food pantries for the hungry while grocery stores see patrons scoop up frozen pizzas and paper towels by the dozens. Soap is at a premium but you can stock up on a couple of six-packs for the weekend. No problem.
We take precautions. We wear face masks out of doors and when not wearing protective gloves routinely wash our hands four, five, six times a day. Gas for our cars is cheap but we have fewer places to go. We disinfect our mail but not its contents, which often asks for payment from those without money.
Some pay attention to the advice and warnings from the medical professionals while others heed the appalling drivel coming from those in political power. Please do not drink a Clorox cocktail.
We live in hope that when a “new normal” arrives, it will carry a catalogue of promises to be kept.
There will come a time when face masks will be stashed in the bottom drawers of our lives; when date nights will help fill the tables at restaurants, when birthday parties will again be celebrated and there will again be baseball.
There will be a time when children will again laugh at Bob and realize they too are deserving of goodness. Until then, a simple nod of recognition is good enough.
Stay safe.
Jerry Shnay is a freelance columnist for the Daily Southtown.
