STAY AWAY

When you come right down to it, all of this social distancing isn’t really such a bad thing.  As a matter of fact, with a few folks, six feet away from me isn’t nearly far enough. For instance, a former neighbor, who, after downing several martinis, would always say to me, “You never let me hug you,” and I would always reply to him, “You are absolutely right.”
Usually, I like being with people, but New Yorking my way through a crowd is not my idea of fun, although recently, my elbow has become my new best friend.

I live in a senior residence and my neighbors and I have been asked to “shelter in place.” That means no leaving the premises other than for doctor appointments. Groceries are delivered, meals are ordered by phone and are left at apartment doors, and all activities have been transferred to our television screens. As a matter of fact, I just finished doing Yoga in my living room. This afternoon, I will watch a movie and tonight a Broadway musical. So what’s with the elbow?

Every morning I take the elevator to the main floor, so I can leave for my daily walk around the property. Three times around is about 2 miles. In order to push the elevator button, I use my elbow, and then I elbow swipe the door exit button. Then I  get some foam from the Purell machine, and wipe off my elbow. Exit means you can get out any door, but you can’t get back in since all codes have been disabled. There is only one main entrance where I yell into a microphone, “I am here.” Then I am let into the front  entrance, and someone from the concierge desk meets me, and hits me on the forehead with a thermometer. So far, I have not used my elbow in retaliation.

Outdoor walks are my salvation because the weather is nice, the property is beautiful, and I assume that my neighbors who shout at me from their balconies are shouting nice things. Occasionally, I meet another walking neighbor, and we kind of chat from a distance. At least I can get close enough to pet their dogs.

These days, my television set is my second best friend. Yesterday, I watched a cooking competition from England, and a documentary called “Bathtubs Over Broadway.” It’s about Industrial Musicals made for sales meetings in the 1950’s, 60’s and 70’s. By the time I turned off the set, I could have flown to Washington, DC with a stop-over in Dallas.

It has been five weeks and three bottles of wine so far.  I am doing great! I am remaining positive and hopeful that soon brilliant minds out there (not in Washington, DC) will find a solution for this terrible pandemic. I have called everyone in my rolodex and most of them knew who I am. I pray that soon I will be able to stand a little closer to my friends, and that the airlines will be required to remove their middle seats.

Esther Blumenfeld