“The sun came out today. We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field.”
I got back from a trip to New York in March of 2020, and I went into self-quarantine, as soon as I got back to Lancaster. During this year, I only left my apartment when it was absolutely necessary, like when I ran out of liquor. Even then, I always masked up and wore disposable gloves. Shortly, after I got my second shot of the Covid vaccine, many of the government restrictions on masks and social distancing were lifted. But, after a year of rarely ranging further than my front door, where the packages were dropped off by various delivery persons, I found myself not wanting to leave the house.
I went to the supermarket, for the first time in a year, last month. Everyone was wearing a mask, and I was glad to comply with that minor inconvenience, to be able to pick up steaks, chickens, cheese, and other perishable things that online supermarkets don’t regularly deliver, things I haven’t had in a long time. However, I haven’t been back to the supermarket since. I make a shopping list now, but I just order what I can get online, instead of going. It must have something to do with inertia. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, while and object at rest tends to stay at rest, and I’ve been resting for over a year. Like Morgan Freeman’s character, Red, in The Shawshank Redemption, I have become “institutionalized.” I’ve been living in self-quarantine so long, that I’m used to it. We feared social contact for so long that a mild form of Agoraphobia set in, not an extreme fear of the outside, just less interest in it. All this was despite the months of yammering on about all the things I would do when restrictions were lifted. Now that I could do what I wanted, I just didn’t feel like doing anything or going anywhere.
Most of the people I met in the past year were online. All the courses I took this year were online. I learned to play the e-sax and a few guitar chords from watching online videos. No place to go, only meant no traffic to deal with, no buses to take, no rushing around. Bars were closed, but liquor stores were open. Medical Marijuana appeared on the scene, to ease my aching hip, even though I wasn’t walking anywhere. The year 2020 could have inspired another Tale of Two Cities story from Charles Dickens. I was the worst of times, but it had its moments.
But now, I’ve had both shots. It’s time to shake off complacency, and get back to normal, normal. To go outside. To talk Face-to-face with people. To be part of a cheering crowd. …and The Lancaster Barnstormers came to the rescue.
Last week, the Barnstormers played their arch rival, the York Revolution, in a spring training game. Admission was free, people, who had their shots, didn’t have to wear masks, and hot dogs were only a buck. There was no excuse to sit around the house, any longer. So, I finally got out of the house and spent 3 gloriously social hours at the ballpark.
It wasn’t very crowded, so social distancing wouldn’t have been a problem, but it wasn’t required. The only change I noticed was that cash was no longer accepted. Purchases had to be made using plastic. It felt weird buying a $1 hot dog with a credit card. So, I added some beers, every time, just so that some bank manager wouldn’t flag my purchase as unusual.
The score was 4-2 in favor of York, as they headed into the bottom of the 9th. The Stormers put the tying runs on with only one out and the Blake Gailen came to the plate, representing the winning run. He’s been on the club for ages, and he is the club’s all-time leading homerun hitter. We held our collective breath as he swung. A ground ball up the middle resulted in a double play. Game over. NB. It still felt great just to get “out with the crowd.”
Peace & Love, and all of the above,