It is Day 53 of my quarantine. I do not know about you, but I have been cooped up at home for too long. It has officially passed into the ridiculous zone. Human beings were clearly never intended to live in isolation. I mean, I do not mind being alone at times — alone with my thoughts, on some intractable task, or listening to Miles Davis. But this is getting nutty.
And the trouble is that there is no real end in sight. I watch and listen to a lot of news (I mix it up a bit to ensure I’m getting the full panoply of information), but I have not yet heard a single medical expert unequivocally say that we are anywhere near being in the clear. Worse perhaps are the predictions for when it may be safe to gather in groups at distances closer than six feet.
Twelve months, folks. That is the best estimate I have heard. I hope that is wrong. You see, they still do not have a clue how widespread this damn virus is. At least not to any level of certainty. It has impacted different places in disparately different ways. Attribute it to testing, to the diverse ways and places in which we live, or to logistics and supply chain. You could make the argument that the government response to this whole thing has been largely inept, but really, what is the point? Government is not going to solve this problem. It is a question of time and of science. We are going to have to ride it out.
In the meantime, flowers are starting to bloom in the yard and the grass has started to grow. Spring is here. And I just realized that my lawn mower went on the fritz last winter. So, I will have to figure that one out.
And with the warmer weather, people are beginning to venture out. I have noticed an unprecedented number of people in my neighborhood walking, jogging, riding bikes, with and without dogs. Couples holding hands and trios yapping it up as they walk down the block. People seem to be much more friendly and amenable to a kind “hello” as they walk or ride by. Yesterday, a van with the name of a church on the side drove by with five or six masked people inside, all of whom were yelling blessings out the windows at anyone they saw. That was a first.
People have been baking lots of bread — one of my favorite foods — and there is a lot more cooking at home. I bet that people who have never made more than a drip cup of coffee have now learned some basic cooking skills. Maybe.
Lots of virtual stuff going on, too. Virtual happy hours, virtual conferences, virtual meetings, and virtual interviews. We are all just virtual, now. The pandemic is real, though. Real illness, real lives — and some real heroes, too.
I have been fortunate. I have not had a need to go out often. But when I do, I mask up, wear gloves, and bring my homemade hand sanitizer. It is a mix of alcohol and hand moisturizer to reduce the dryness. I try to limit contact by going during off-hours when I know people are sleeping or eating. Thank goodness that most things we need I have been able to pick up curbside. I actually wear a bandana. And let me just say, there is something incredibly liberating about walking into a retail establishment wearing a bandana and carrying a small spray bottle.
Quarantine started for me on March 12, the day I flew home from the ASU/Ipro Tech Show. We were on the law school campus in downtown Phoenix for two days. People hugged and shook hands and we gathered in rooms for session. It was not until I heard March Madness was canceled, then professional sports, that I became the least bit alarmed. And even though the virus had been the subject of news reports, there were not yet any stay at home orders. I tried to get an earlier flight out of Phoenix. Did not happen.
In the wake of my return home, while the virus began to ravage the East Coast, I woke up every day for the two weeks following the conference wondering if that day would be the day I would start showing symptoms. I still wonder. But I have been fortunate.
Because I work in the legal industry, the pain and anguish the pandemic has brought upon the profession has been real, too. Family, friends, and colleagues — all have been impacted in different ways — but very real, nonetheless.
I feel fortunate. But I am getting tired of the virtual world.
Mike Quartararo
Mike Quartararo is the President of the Association of Certified E-Discovery Specialists (ACEDS), a professional member association providing training and certification in e-discovery. He is also the author of the 2016 book Project Management in Electronic Discovery and a consultant providing e-discovery, project management and legal technology advisory and training services to law firms and Fortune 500 corporations across the globe. You can reach him via email at mquartararo@aceds.org. Follow him on Twitter @mikequartararo.