About one month into lockdown I feel comfortable that my sanity is in a good place and my risk of going all “Shining” on my family is at a minimum. (This is helped by the fact that we live in a modest three-bedroom house and there is no Room 237.) I’ve found that one of the keys to maintaining a sound state of mind while sheltering in place is adopting some new hobbies.
Listening to classical music is not new to me, but the regularity with which I am doing it is. Somehow, given the gravity of the situation we now find ourselves in, classical music seems like the most appropriate soundtrack. Every day now I give myself a large daily dose of Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and the rest of those wig-wearing virtuosos. I particularly like Pachelbel, because if you say his name fast it sounds like you’re saying “Taco Bell” and I enjoy their sauce packets.
Another new hobby that has taken root for me is walking. Of course, I used to walk before the lockdown, but that was a purely utilitarian activity just to get from Point A to Point B. Now I do a specific walk every day—one full circuit around my block that takes me a little over six minutes. It may not sound like much, but of course, I have the added challenge of having to stay at least six feet away from anyone I come across. I come across no one, though, except for one time when I saw a guy coming out of his garage, so I hissed at him and ran away.
There is one hobby I have taken up, though, that has been particularly rewarding, because I can see daily progress. As with any endeavor, when you really put in the work and you can see yourself making significant strides, you feel a real sense of accomplishment. I am, of course, talking about growing facial hair. For the past three weeks I have made a concerted effort to not run a razor across my face. Every day, after I brush my teeth, I look at my razor and shaving cream and actively turn away. And every morning when I get up and look in the bathroom mirror, I see progress being made. At the two week and three day mark I hit a significant milestone when I finally went past the stubble and scruff phases and hit the full-on beard phase. I considered this a major accomplishment since the last time I had a full-on beard was 22 years ago. (For a scintillating account of the history of my facial hair growth, read this blog I wrote in 2013.)
While my beard growing has been seemingly successful, I must report that this particular hobby is not getting universal praise from the rest of the folks on lockdown in this household. While my older son really seems to like this new look (I get the vibe that he thinks the facial hair makes his dad look like less of a man-child) my wife and younger son have been vocal critics. And while the various barbs about my beard being hurled my way by my younger son don’t really bother me (another hobby I’ve taken up over the past month is completely tuning out my kids so I can get work done) the fact that my wife has disdain for my face fuzz is a bit of a concern. After all, she fell in love with a clean shaven gent and now she finds herself cohabitating with a caveman. So, in an effort to keep the peace and avoid my wife being the one to go “Shining” on the rest of us, I’ll probably shave off the beard in the next few days and take up a new hobby. I hear collecting toilet paper is quite popular these days. Maybe I’ll look into that.
