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Carnes: Little did we know how little we knew

In a brief bout of unprecedented innocence during the third week of last March, we sat back on our collective backsides (or couches for some) and watched the world come to an almost complete halt.

Markets crashed, businesses shut their doors, store shelves emptied, I-70 traffic became nonexistent, and most glaring around here – the ski mountains closed, while we were left staring at each other, thinking, “What the hell do we do now?”

My wife and I had just returned from skiing in Snowbird and visiting family in Utah, listening intently to news reports all the way home, beginning to finally believe there might really be something to the whole COVID thing.



Little did we know it would be our last time skiing until 2021.

That week we attended a bowling fundraiser for Battle Mountain Seniors at Bol in Vail, I had a blast doing a ride-along on the Turtle Bus for a Vail Valley Magazine article, but the Town of Vail ski races, which I have had the pleasure of announcing for years now, had been canceled for the first time in memory for anything other than snow conditions.



The week ended with a wonderful dinner at Vin48 over in the boat building in Avon.

Little did we know it would be our last indoor dining experience for three months.

First actual day of quarantine was her birthday, and we binged-watched “The Umbrella Academy.” Happy friggin’ birthday, honey! We binged-watched the second season about six months later.

The first week we drove to Glenwood for a previously scheduled truck service, complete with uncomfortable masks and everyone looking at everyone else with mutual suspicion. We emptied her office up in Beaver Creek and began our first of dozens of puzzles.

The next week we binge-watched “Tiger King.” Don’t know how many hours it was, but I do know we can never get them back. Other binges included “Upload,” “Money Heist,” “The Boys” and finally got around to watching the final season of “Wilfred.”

First month ended with delivering tax stuff to Mr. Accountant and starting my weekly “Formal Friday” videos, which continued for a month or so before I got bored. Their predictably pitiful production value still makes them squeamishly enjoyable to watch, if you’re bored.

By the time we finished 90 days of actual quarantine, I had learned to use “comorbidities” and “efficacy” in a sentence. Not that I did, mind you, but I knew how just in case.

Little did I know that a year later we still wouldn’t leave the house very often, and when we do it’s with a mask. I still can’t shake hands and feel silly every time an “air high-five” or pretend hug comes my way. But we do it because we want this crap to end.

Little did we know the health and safety of friends and family would become politicized to the point that some still refuse to be vaccinated because their savior told them it was a fake flu and a worldwide conspiracy for Bill Gates to take over the world, or something along those lines, depending upon the week.

If only we had known how little we knew.


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