Here it is, born of this damned virus that has everybody’s knickers in a twist . A new concept comes into being… social distancing.

I can’t help but say ‘Good luck with that one !’

The idea, of course, is for folks to stay as far from each other as possible. As though the country isn’t already divided .

I hate to beat an old war drum, but you may remember my past description of my old 7th grade teacher, Mrs. Berger. Being cruel kids, we furtively called her Pocahontas. (Meaning no disrespect to a recent presidential candidate of the same name .)

Mrs. Berger wrote the manuscript on social distancing… with a ruler ! School dances had their protocol . Rapturous slow-dancing bodies had to maintain a six inch berth. What chance did a virus have ?

I suppose, living at Tuckaway , that we maintain a sort of built-in social distancing. Is a half mile entry to the property sufficient? I suspect not. After all, Corona has already made a bee line from its source, a distance further than Tucker Lane.

So, here we are living in a culture that wouldn’t seem to stand a chance. Socially, we are huggers and kissers to the nth degree. The distancing protocol just isn’t in our DNA .

In a country of ideas, I hope we come up with a better one.