Time Sensitive

The world as we know it has changed. Seemingly overnight and in ways we haven’t either had a chance to ponder or are too afraid to ponder. Some of us saw it coming and some of us seemed blissfully unaware as we set out to indulge and yet here we are, stuck in the same metaphorical boat. Well, perhaps not a boat. That expression may be passé.   

All kinds of things have changed. Where we go, who we see, how the days are structured. Life has gotten immeasurably harder for most. Homeschooling, working from home, working in dangerous and stressful conditions, losing jobs, making ends meet have all brought us a new reality.  It makes me nostalgic for days gone by. And those days were not all beyond reproach. Simple activities are no longer allowed. A coffee with friends, catching a movie or grabbing a drink are dangerous and socially irresponsible actions. Instead of bemoaning their loss, I have decided to host a dinner party. 

Now, since I have no desire to become sick, infect my family or spread the contagion to anyone I will practice safe social distancing. Prophylactic dinner party. Both fantastical in my hosting and cooking prowess and my intended invitees. The requirements to be invited are strict. One must have had a profound impact on me. Sure, sure the world too of course, but it’s my fantasy and as such I reign supreme. It would be quite pathetic if one had to take a backseat in their own fantasy. Unless that’s your thing then have at it. I, however, have a few favourites who enlighten, soothe, cheer and, frankly stop me cold in their observations of humanity.  My fantasy dinner is a little on the heavy side. But in this day and age, what superfluous conversations can one have? Emergency has rid us of the trappings of luxury. Fashion and sports are out. Reality tv like 

while being watched in our isolated mini worlds seems less real than ever before. We wish we could be catching undisclosed STIs and striking the death knell for feminism, but alas no, we have it worse. 

So while the pandemic rages, and children and the vulnerable are sheltered inside, my dinner party will be fabulous. 

Firstly, I will throw something together at the last minute and it will be delicious. Even in my fantasies I can not find any matching linens and like at home growing up the family will take the last plate as it never matched the others. However, my guests and I will be above all that mundane frivolity. I have invited them there simply for their brains. And as you will see the occasional song. But the songs are, you got it, heavy. 

First to arrive, Rex Murphy. You can see his brain before he rounds the corner. He says hello and due to his extensive vocabulary I stand transfixed by his cerebral presence. Forgetting myself, I stand in the doorway gawking, hoping he speaks more. His brain is a dreamboat. I know he has much to say and his insight will both soothe and ignite righteous anger at all the appropriate people and events. Moving aside, he and his brain settle in for a thoughtful few moments while I answer the door. 

Next guest changes the energy. Perfectly timed as always, Melissa McCarthy has arrived in a flourish of colour and energy and the most magnificent twinkle in her eye. I am smiling from ear to ear and usher her inside. The yin and yang now meet and it’s pure chemistry. The scathing intellect from Newfoundland and the comedic Hollywood star have found balance in the tumultuous world. 

Again the doorbell. Before I open the door I hear a song of pure emotion on the other side. Humour, nostalgia, loss, a reckoning have all landed on my doorstep in the form of one well booted woman, Jann Arden. She is delighted to be invited and says she was so happy to see me at her concerts and wasn’t it a shame she couldn’t invite me on stage to help with some of the more vocally challenging numbers. Hey, it’s my fantasy here. She enters and mentions Rick may stop by later. 

As the guests begin to mingle, and introductions are made, a weightiness is felt. The doorbell rings. I head over to touch the handle and I feel a lifetime worth of pain, determination, and the defiance of odds. I open this door to welcome Max Eisen. He is old now, by his own admittance, small of stature but a backbone of steel forged from a lifetime of inconceivable experiences during world war II and the ghosts thereafter. He has built for himself both a life of love with his family and has given with great personal sacrifice to the world through education. I had the honour of meeting this man at a book signing in December. You remember when we could go to such places? At that time, I was awestruck and unable to say any of the things I should have said. Now, in my fantasy, I have found the perfect combination of words to convey both my sorrow of his and so many others’ experiences and delight of meeting him in a simple greeting. It’s a beautiful and moving moment. 

We are all in. The evening is rife with scintillating conversations. I exchange barbs, commentaries, insights with all. The food is delicious. Dolly and Bruce drop by. I am feeding endless amounts of mashed potatoes to Rex to comfort his fears for humanity and iron rich foods for his brain. For  Melissa, I attempt to pour her a drink but I can barely stand up every time she tells me another seemingly harmless anecdote that critiques the status quo. Jann, while occasionally breaking into song at my hosting abilities, in her self deprecating style has us appreciating life’s journey. As for Mr. Eisen, he is quiet and surveying the scene around him. So much has happened in his life experience and now he finds himself here. This is a raucous and slightly tipsy group with much to share. Mr. Eisen keeps us grounded and connected to the vastness of history and the human experience. I told you, even in my fantasies I still have that darkness. Nothing light here, especially the dessert. 

As the evening winds down, talk turns to reality. The pandemic even invades fantasies. From all there is fear of loss, uncertainty. There is the actual virus, government responses and the human component. For many, we have not seen struggle such as this and are afraid we are ill equipped to understand the sacrifice demanded. The need to hold strong while holding loved ones close and also far from us to protect them plays with our minds. We have fought nothing like this before. We are now so far removed from Disney cruises, Friday night drinks and weekend playdates. We are mobilized and yet quite still. Time is our greatest weapon now. Buy more time, plan, treat and potentially cure. Time is also against us as we are a culture used to wanting more. A soft culture. Amazon prime culture. We see it, we want it, we get it. First world problems if it’s late or shoddy. Neat and tidy vacations, drinks and food and child care done with a swipe of the card. Now we wait. Our wants must wait. 

The mood of the party now reaches a sombre one. Desserts have been consumed. Drinks are low to match the mood. These great minds feel the weight as we all do. We are now in the history books. But we wait to see what the next chapter reveals of our fate. It’s not a choose your own adventure but it’s close. Handle us with care and determination, politicians. We will rise to the challenge as our fate depends on it. I hope there is someone left to write that book and someone there to read it. 

The  guests file out. The dinner party was a success. Bonds formed in our solidarity. Great minds capable of feeling and articulating great emotion. They have had much to discuss. 

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