Finally Getting "Normal" Back Again

Copyright © 2021

by Ralph F. Couey

"I didn't want normal

until I didn't have it anymore."

--Mary Stiefvater

For the past 16 or so months we've lived in a different world.  COVID-19 rewrote the paradigm for life in so many ways, from the macro to the micro, discovering life under restrictions that at one time might have set a revolution in motion.  We got used to most of it, the masks, the isolation, the masks, the distancing, the masks, and a daily visit to the websites where the grim tally of pandemic statistics were paraded before us.  It didn't take long before we began to mourn that thing we used to call "normal life."

In the past couple of months, however, many mainland states began to drop their restrictions, and people began to embrace the "normal" they had missed so much.  Here in Hawai'i, the bar has been set at 70% of the population fully vaccinated at which point all restrictions will be dropped.  But there was an article in the Star-Advertiser, the Honolulu daily paper, about how much convention business Hawai'i was losing because those events were relocating to states where the restrictions were far less draconian.  Predictably, Governor Ige, in a press conference, said that he might not wait until 70% to end the state of emergency.

The thing is, for all intents and purposes, its pretty much over anyway.  There are around a half-million tourists in the islands from all over the place, few if any wearing masks or distancing, and the numbers of new cases are still very low.  I think if Hawai'i was going to have another breakout, it certainly would have happened by now.

So anyway, what I've seen in the past month especially is the way local people have kind of forced the issue.  On Tuesday late afternoon, I had a doctor's appointment downtown, and rather than inflict rush hour traffic on my emotional state, I decided to go to Kapio'lani Park and do my walking.  It's a great place to to that because it's entirely flat and one lap around the outside is exactly two miles.

The park started out as a horse racing venue for King David Kalakaua and named for his Queen Consort.  In 1952, after years of abuse and neglect, the 300-acre space was renovated into the magnificent greenspace it is today, bridging Diamond Head and Waikiki.  I have gone there on afternoons when I'm running early to work.  I park in the big lot off Paki Street, put a beach towel over the hot hood of my Mustang, and spend a few minutes drinking in the beauty.  Usually during the weekday, the park is pretty empty.  But as schools let out and people get off work, the park begins to populate.  That day, I parked the car and began my walk.  

During the varying stages of the pandemic, most public places remained empty, or nearly so.  But once the latest round of restrictions were vacated, people, in a kind of visceral joy, left their homes.  I started walking west from the parking lot, and noticed that the park was a very busy place.  I saw several soccer and lacrosse games in progress, along with the usual crowd of walkers and joggers.  But what I saw most of all were the large numbers of picnickers.  Of course, here it's not a blanket on the ground with sandwiches, but more like a tailgate event. The smell of fresh-cooked meat wafted past me on the wind, reminding me that I had eaten a very early lunch and dinner time was approaching.  There were also couples, reclining on blankets and chairs, some walking and holding hands, living in their own bubble of joy.  Everybody was smiling.  People were gathered and having...fun!  None of the furtive frightened looks as others passed by, no automatic donning of masks, no real effort at social distancing.  It took me a while to recognize the scene for what it was.

Normal.

Yes.  Normal.  Life going on pretty much as it had before the pandemic.  

In 1972, the rock group Chicago released a song entitled "Saturday in the Park."  Robert Lamm, the composer, said that the song came out of a day in Central Park in New York City.  In an interview, he said, 

"And it was really kind of that peace and love thing 

that happened in Central Park 

and in many parks all over the world, 

perhaps on a Saturday, where people just relax 

and enjoy each other’s presence,

 and the activities we observe 

and the feelings we get from feeling 

a part of a day like that."

Lamm apparently saw the explosion of life in all its human cultural forms that day.  I realized that as I continued to loop around Kapi'olani, that I was seeing the same thing, really for the first time in over a year.  The park was alive with sound of laughter, the very air infused with a love for life that just hadn't been around for way too long.  This is what we had all been missing.  The simple act of gathering, freed from fear.

I finished my second lap, and reluctantly left that wonderful scene to return home.  But for the first time in many months, I began to feel some hope and joy.  I knew that folks were sick and tired of being cooped up, and this explosion of partying was a kind of declaration that this terrible thing we've been dealing with for so long is finally close to being completely over.  We talked about it for a bit at work, one of my colleagues remarking, "Normal life was kind of boring, actually."  He paused, and continued, "I'm really kind of ready for boring."

The baseball stadiums are full.  This fall, football will return in front of full houses.  Schools will be back in session and parents will again be going to games, concerts, and plays.  All of this will happen in a scintillating fog of joy, the sun of life rising once again.

The COVID-19 Pandemic has been an historic event, one that those of us who lived through it will talk about forever.  As time goes on, there will be the inevitable distancing between fact and recollection, but there will still be that moment when those stories are told to children yet unborn, who will scarcely believe what they're told.

But we were here, we saw it happen.  Saw the news, felt the fear, lived a horrible life until it all came to an end.  It will forever live in our memory.  And not just the dark times,either.

We will all remember that bright, sunny day when normal became normal once again.