New Normal

We watched 1917 last night. The movie, not the year. If you haven’t seen it, I suggest you empty your bladder and get all your snacks and drinks ready before you hit “play”, because there really is no downtime. It starts with two young soldiers walking - forever, it seems - through the Allied trenches, somewhere near the front lines in France, and it doesn’t end until one of the two men (spoiler alert…sorry!) finally makes it across No Man’s Land, through an abandoned Nazi trench, and finally to a location maybe 20 km from where they started to deliver a very important message to the commanding officer. I feel stupid saying it, because how can I know this? - but it seems very realistic. The camera technique - a touch less bumpy than The Blairwitch Project - allowed me to feel like I was right in the trench with them, without also feeling motion sick (except when one of the guys literally put his hand through the chest of a corpse in a ditch - like right THROUGH it). They walked down full streets of trench - it was like a small Trench City - complete with street signs and arrows posted at corners, small tables along the sides of the “streets” where men were playing cards, and rooms - like caves - dug into the mud walls with tarps hanging as makeshift doors. What made these trench streets unlike any street I’ve ever seen were the narrow shelves dug right into the mud walls, where the men rested and slept. And as these two guys walked and walked and walked, they passed many men who were sleeping on these narrow ledges, in full uniform, some with helmets on their heads, all with boots on their feet and guns strapped to their chests. I thought “I could never do that. I could never sleep like that. I could never sleep there…”

But - you know - maybe I could. I am not suggesting that I could be a soldier, or that what these men and women faced (and face) during war is not beyond horrific - and I am not sure if I should even try to make the connection between trench warfare and our current lockdown - but the sleeping soldiers did bring one fact into sharp focus for me, and that was this: We, as humans, really can get used to almost anything. What is obviously true is that these men (the real ones, in the war, not the actors on the set) who were sleeping in the trenches were not comfortable and likely were not sleeping soundly or restfully, but rather sleeping because they could no longer truly do anything BUT sleep, due to utter exhaustion. But the men walking past them were walking and chatting and interacting with a few of the other men, and basically not acting mortified and disgusted and traumatized (that would come later, I’m sure) by what they were seeing, and it was obvious that this had been their reality for quite some time, and that this was - for them - the new normal.

The first time I lined up at the LCBO for wine (I know, I know…it’s cringe-worthy to read about the war and then to read about the liquor store in the very next paragraph. Stay with me…I’d like to believe that all things are permitted in rambling quarantine writing sessions…), I felt like Offred from the Handmaid’s Tale (I even wrote about it, a few posts ago). It was awkward and almost funny to have to stand in a line, behind tape lines on the sidewalk, placed six feet apart. I tried to make a few jokes, but everybody else was so serious - nobody even smiled at me. By the time I was allowed to enter the store, I was honestly pretty freaked out - I rushed to grab whatever was closest, paid the mask-wearing teller on the other side of the plexiglass barrier, and got the hell out. I felt like I was living in a Science Fiction novel. I was not well-adjusted to my reality.

Now, seven weeks later, lining up for groceries and booze is so common place that I am surprised when I can walk right into a store (like the Dollar Store yesterday…what?!). I haven’t even been inside Walmart since this all started because the line is always at least 20 people deep. I drive past Costco before deciding whether to go in or not - and my decision is always based on the length of the line. I don’t go grocery shopping when it’s raining because I don’t want to get wet. Of course. Makes sense. But - two months ago - that would have been a ridiculous thing to say. I have heard that Costco won’t let anyone in without a mask now. That’s new. I was a there last week, without a mask - but I was the minority. Remember when it was unusual and kind of mock-worthy to see someone wearing a medical mask on the street? Ya - me neither.

I am getting used to doing with less, and waiting for what I need. Standing in line is such a pain that I now dislike grocery shopping and I put it off until it is absolutely necessary - which probably saves me some money in the long run - I used to stop in almost every day on my way home from work (before “going to work” meant going to the basement), and I’d definitely buy stuff I didn’t need (I am a sucker for grocery store clothes - and yes, I know that they are unethically made - I try to resist) - but going once a week definitely results in much fuller carts of groceries and much larger final bills. Let’s just say I almost always get the “free…because you spent over $x” deals at the Superstore. I have a freezer full of turkeys to prove it. I have been doing more online shopping lately, but even that has changed. When I used to buy something on Amazon, it would say to expect it in 3-7 days, and it would almost always be on the doorstep the next morning. Like honestly - how is that even possible? Now, though, when I order something (like a new basketball net for our backyard hoop, because we actually use the damn thing now that we are home 24-7), it says it will take 3-4 weeks to arrive, and it actually does take 3-4 weeks to arrive. And it reminds me of when I was a kid, and I would order books at school from Scholastic, and it would take FOREVER for the books to arrive, and then - the day that the package arrived - the teacher would keep the box on her desk ALL DAY, despite all of us kids nagging her to open it up. And - at the very end of the day - she would open it, and call my name, and I would come up and take my brand new books, and I would touch the smooth cover and smell the newness, and then carefully open the cover to trace my fingers over the crisp new pages. And it was always worth the wait.

So, I guess what I am saying is this - we can do this. We have already proven how adaptable we are. When I stand in line now, by the way, people DO joke with me, and we do smile at each other (even with masks on, you can tell when someone is smiling - it’s all in the eyes, I’ve learned). I walked past a neighbour having a socially-distanced birthday party today — about ten people were standing on the street and on the sidewalk, six feet apart from each other, drinks in hand, music playing, while the birthday girl sat on a lawn chair, surrounded by balloons. And I waved and said “Happy Birthday”, because I knew exactly what they were doing - because it has become normal. I automatically get off the sidewalk and walk in the street when someone else approaches me on my walks. We smile and say “gotta choose between getting. Co-vid and getting hit by a car these days”, and we laugh together. Because we really ARE all in this together. And we really can get through it. And things WILL get better. And…and…it will be worth the wait.