Have the last laugh at the coronavirus with our humor columnist’s thoughts on the hidden benefits of spending too much time at home.
Illustration by Jan Igoe
Whenever a stranger would sneeze in a crowd—long before our world was seized by a microscopic enemy—most people ignored it. A few would duck and cover, but only the true jet-propelled germaphobe would land in the next area code before anybody could bless the sneezer. That would be me, even without a pandemic.
Now that my natural inclination has a sophisticated name, I’m feeling rather smug about being a trendy “self-isolator” instead of a mere “crazy dog lady.” Besides, this interruption could turn out to be an opportunity.
In the 1600s, when Isaac Newton was avoiding the plague, he stayed home and invented calculus. Some of us have not forgiven him for that, but it was really the plaque’s fault. Sadists immediately adopted it into the high school curriculum and the first kid to flunk beaned Newton on the head with an apple. Instead of apologizing, he went and made gravity a law. Before that, it was optional.
Self-isolation isn’t an imposition for inventors, writers and artists. This is our wheelhouse. Pretending not to be home, letting voicemail grab calls, ignoring texts or inventing excuses to animal shelter-in-place with pets (instead of prepping for a night out with germ-spewing humans) are talents we refined way before society came to value them. Compared to Christopher Knight, however, we’re all rank amateurs.
Knight was 20 when he disappeared into the Maine woods and severed all human contact for almost three decades. An adept lock picker, Knight survived on whatever he could appropriate (aka steal) from neighboring cabins that were closed for the season. His survival skills fascinated Michael Finkel, who wrote The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit.
Unlike philosophers and prophets throughout history who sought inspiration in seclusion, Knight wasn’t looking for the meaning of life. He simply did not like people, even before they started hoarding Charmin and spreading deadly viruses.
With enough creativity, you won’t have to move to Maine just to avoid your fellow humans. There are plenty of ways to get others to do the avoiding for you. For example, you could tattoo your entire body a sparkling turquoise, like a tranquil beach in Aruba. Donnie Snider, a forklift driver from Canada, fell in love with the color and covered every inch of his skin with it. Every inch. I’m guessing the only reason he’s still employed is that whatever he’s forklifting can’t run away.
Another idea: Make friends with life-size dolls, like bodybuilder Yuri Tolochko. He plans to tie the knot with Margo, the silicone seductress he started dating last year. Apparently, Tolochko arranged plastic surgery (for his equally plastic fiancee) to bolster her self-image. Yeah, let’s avoid Yuri until we’re sure crazy isn’t contagious.
So until the virus passes, we can retreat to the woods, create a masterpiece, adopt more dogs, paint ourselves blue or talk to imaginary friends. Maybe get a donkey and a miniature pony like the furry cuties keeping Arnold Schwarzenegger company. (The Terminator movies will never be the same.)
Pretty soon, drones will be able to spot sick people in a crowd. According to mirror.co.uk, they’re testing prototypes that can identify anyone coughing or sneezing from 10 meters away.
Amateurs. I can do it from 25. Easy.
Jan A. Igoe hopes everyone stays happy and healthy. Maybe the quarantine will be over by the time you read this. Just be well and don’t invent any more math.
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