This is lovely. It reminds me of a moment a few months into the first lockdown, when I ventured to the local supermarket for the first time in weeks - some forgettable pop song came on the radio, and the woman at the till started dancing, so I started dancing as well, and we both danced on opposite sides of the perspex screen, grinning at each other while she scanned the groceries and I packed them.
Oh gosh, I so loved this, thankyou! From Aotearoa New Zealand, where we are still masked in supermarkets but not in nightclubs, apparently to protect oldies like me (66), who may be expected to visit the former, but never the latter...
it also really brought home for me the idea that the masks and lockdowns could have only been adapted so willingly and eagerly by people who already spend so much of their lives in the realms of the virtual and abstract.
all the joy and beauty you described so well, the magic and unpredictability in strangers, in even just walking down a city street, in having some dumb fun like drinking and dancing on the spur of the moment--i guess if you've already devalued these things because you're glued to your phone or to some binge-watching etc, then it's not gonna matter to you if the govt takes them away.
(it seems like smartphones plus internet and social media have conditioned us to be passive and subservient zoo animals, but that is a conversation for another time.)
either way, "spreading the contagion of delight" is my new goal for the rest of the year.
When the mask mandate was dropped in Germany at the beginning of April, I was visiting a supermarket on the first maskless day. I couldn´t suppress a big smile when entering the supermarket without a mask covering my face. Unfortunately, many Germans are overcompliant. So I was the lone person not wearing a mask in the whole supermarket, but I did not care as I enjoyed the new (old) situation so much. Since then, more and more people are seen in shops without masks and I am delighted for every person I see without a mask.
Yay for "Babette's Feast."
This is lovely. It reminds me of a moment a few months into the first lockdown, when I ventured to the local supermarket for the first time in weeks - some forgettable pop song came on the radio, and the woman at the till started dancing, so I started dancing as well, and we both danced on opposite sides of the perspex screen, grinning at each other while she scanned the groceries and I packed them.
Nothing is more radically subversive than joy.
Oh gosh, I so loved this, thankyou! From Aotearoa New Zealand, where we are still masked in supermarkets but not in nightclubs, apparently to protect oldies like me (66), who may be expected to visit the former, but never the latter...
wow that was really beautiful...thanks!
it also really brought home for me the idea that the masks and lockdowns could have only been adapted so willingly and eagerly by people who already spend so much of their lives in the realms of the virtual and abstract.
all the joy and beauty you described so well, the magic and unpredictability in strangers, in even just walking down a city street, in having some dumb fun like drinking and dancing on the spur of the moment--i guess if you've already devalued these things because you're glued to your phone or to some binge-watching etc, then it's not gonna matter to you if the govt takes them away.
(it seems like smartphones plus internet and social media have conditioned us to be passive and subservient zoo animals, but that is a conversation for another time.)
either way, "spreading the contagion of delight" is my new goal for the rest of the year.
When the mask mandate was dropped in Germany at the beginning of April, I was visiting a supermarket on the first maskless day. I couldn´t suppress a big smile when entering the supermarket without a mask covering my face. Unfortunately, many Germans are overcompliant. So I was the lone person not wearing a mask in the whole supermarket, but I did not care as I enjoyed the new (old) situation so much. Since then, more and more people are seen in shops without masks and I am delighted for every person I see without a mask.
Loved this essay, Rhyd! It filled me with delight.