When we get through this, I want to keep the bit about all of the restaurants on the street. I want more downtown areas to be cordoned off to cars. When we get through this, I want to see the Smuin Ballet perform on risers on O’Farrell Street at John’s Steakhouse, and see my favorite authors on Zoom for free. When we get through this I want to remember how close I got to some people because the world got smaller. I want to see The Dance-Along Nutcracker in person donning a tutu. When we get through this I want to go to a bookstore and the library and stay at each for hours, seated criss-cross apple sauce in front of the stacks obstructing traffic and not caring. I want to see movies all day long and eat popcorn and Red Vines until they make me sick.
When we get through this, I want to dance in a room with other human beings. I want to throw down a mat with people and pose some downward dogs. It’s likely we will never have public props again or be able to blow out candles on a cake. Think about that. When we get through this, I am ready to drive or fly or take a ship or a hot air balloon to a faraway place and eat exotic foods and sleep in a house on stilts with an outdoor shower where ferns are growing. When we get through this, I want to keep doing things outside but never take for granted again that I can be inside, with other humans, closer than 6 feet. I want to see my 97-year-old friend. I want to hug people. I want to breathe near them.