The pots and pans got played Friday night at 7p.m.  That's when our Hilton Head neighborhood pays noisy tribute to the take out food preppers, Amazon drivers, and firemen who are on the job, for us.

Then, later, was our first Zoom birthday party. About 20 of the Birthday Boy’s friends gathered around our laptops to trade stories and toasts.  The next day, we did a drive-by at his house, treating ourselves to a small glass of champagne. 

t was supposed to be a much bigger deal, this birthday.  The Boy has had several careers and knows hundreds of people.  His hyper-organized wife’s plan had been to host many of those friends for an all-expenses-paid weekend on Hilton Head - gorgeous weather, terrific food, and many rounds of golf. But when the Corona Virus showed up six weeks ago, those plans collapsed. The Boy appreciated that the Virus saved him thousands of dollars in hotel rooms, meals and greens fees.  But he’s always loved a party, Maybe next year.

Back in the real world, I went to the gas station.  Donna’s car said it had enough gas for 93 more miles so I volunteered to fill it up for her.  

It was the first time I’d been driving in six weeks. And I was uncomfortable. Of course, there are some times when you can roll a bowling ball down Route 1, past Red’s and onto the Davey bridge.  But in a warm weather clime like South Carolina, in the winter, well it’s not normal.  There was an other-worldly feeling of isolation on the road.  I wore my face mask and gloves at the gas pump.  At another pump, a young man who looked like a landscaper was also putting gas in his pickup. 

He wore no mask, no hat, no gloves.  And I worried about him.  We’re calling people like him  heroes. They are working almost as if nothing’s changed.  I applaud their youth and strength and optimism.

I hope they’re OK in 14 days.