Shave and a Haircut

My last haircut was towards the beginning of January.  Normally, I would have said that my next cut would be at the end of March / beginning of April.  Well, that plan did not work out.  I made the decision at that time to wait until we could go back out to the places where we used to go.  Like everyone else, I figured that in a few weeks, and just like a big storm, the dark clouds of the pandemic would blow away.  We all know how that went.  During this time, my family said that they would happily cut my hair for me.  I could have used the beard clipper (which on video calls looks like many chose that option).  A month ago, friend of mine suggested I use his barber…a razor.  I made the decision to tough it out and visually show that I am following the guidance provided.  For me, that was as important a point to make as it was to look well groomed. Since the pandemic started, I have been out to shop and a couple of social distance visits, but for the most part, I had started to become comfortable staying close to home and minimizing my trips into the larger world.  My comfort zone did shrink.

And then the guidance changed.   While I do like having long hair (remember the pony tail I use to have?), I was done with the unruly, caveman look.  But truth be told, after so much time at home, like many other people, I have to admit I was nervous to venture forth.  As I said, my comfort zone in the past four months had become more like a small bubble.  A week after the governor gave the OK – I decided to call for an appointment, hoping that it would be a few weeks before they could take me, giving me time to prepare for enlarging my comfort zone.  “How does 6:30 work for you,” the voice kindly asked.  I stammered, “I c-c-cannot m-m-m-make it tonight.”  “I am talking about Friday,” she responded.  I took the appointment and now had to venture out to a place I had not been to before the pandemic even began (the place I used moved locations).

Friday arrived, and with a show of confidence I left my house and my comfort zone.  I grabbed a disposable mask on the way out, having to ditch the bandana that I usually wear.  I was uncomfortable even in my car, when I realized that I had not even turned the car on yet.  I drove to the place and pulled up.  I tentatively walked up to the door, not sure if I was to open it, or needed to be escorted in.  I cannot believe that an action that was normal and natural felt like I was trying something new.  The receptionist saw me, opened the door and took my temperature.  There was one other person there who was finishing up and then they left.  By the time I signed the release form, I was up.  As I sat down, conversation started naturally and we caught up since we last met.  I sat there at ease and then I was finished.  It was a positive experience, though I am still very cautious and continue to remain diligent.  Being smart about how we handle ourselves (metaphor for many things) will lead us to good outcomes.  I had built up some fears about going out and wanting to remain safe.  Believe me, running to the shore to be amongst a crowd is still not an option for myself.  Although we are still in quarantine, every day my comfort zone gets slightly bigger and I feel more comfortable as things start to “get back to normal”.

Observations from Behind the Mask

Dining outside (or eating al fresco), people laughing together and children running up and down the sidewalk – clear signs that summer is here.  I recently got to watch this scene.  While what I was watching would normally be a heart-warming summer scene, it was painfully clear that I was the only one concerned about a mask; the children were running up and down the sidewalk, where unmasked diners (at a safe social distance) were eating.  The parent, mask-less, showed no mind and I saw the father walk up to the next table, say something and pat the guy on the shoulder.

For almost four months, myself, our family and our friends have been listening and following the CDC and government guidelines.  My father is still in Florida and it has been a long time since we have seen each other face-to-face (virtually – of course).  My mother-in-law’s place is keeping the inside and outside world apart in a measure to provide protection.  My family has been working from home since March to minimize the spread of COVID-19.  We wear masks when we go out to protect ourselves and to protect the ones we love and care about.  I was once taught that on an airplane, during the safety talk, there is a reason why when the air mask drops, you use it first, then help others – if you do not, you have jeopardized your health and the person(s) you would have helped.  One needs to be healthy to help those in need. Wearing that mask is a selfless act, a sign that we care and want us all to survive this pandemic.

People have gotten arrested for thinking it was OK to publicly cough on someone – it is not. 

People think that once you wear the mask past the security guard, it is OK to remove it – it is not. 

People want to believe their children are safe and do not need a mask – it is not. 

There was recently a case where a young nurse went to a bar to celebrate something and the whole group caught COVID-19.  Her comment was “I should have known better.”

When states opened up, people forgot about the pandemic and the numbers went up (think of the old commercial, “they told two people, who each told two people…”).

As I stood there, watching the scene at the restaurant, the establishment was following the guidelines; it was the patrons who did not.  Going to the supermarket, the establishment was following the guidelines; it was the shoppers who did not.  It is easy to get lulled into a false sense of comfort, to remove the mask and gain a (false) feeling of freedom.  The risk…it ain’t worth it.  It is not worth for me to catch it, to unknowingly spread it and to hurt others.  I do not like wearing the mask, but happy to do so, and when I do not want to wear it, I will be happy to stay home.