Chapter 246: Post Corona

Corona is changing our world. Post Corona our world, our country, our community will be different.

My grandkids will inherit this world post Corona. What will they inherit? What will a post Corona world look like?

To help me try and understand the future I need to try and understand one of my grandfathers. He survived a depression and two world wars. What would he be thinking about life post Corona? 

Post Corona I imagine more people will work from home. The need for multi-story central offices, morning coffee rituals and transport has shown to be unnecessary. My grandfather would have approved. For him his home and work where inseparable. He began the last day of his life by getting out of bed and turning on the linotype machines.

Post Corona the status of certain workers will change. The status of health care workers will go up. We have been reminded that what they do is important. My grandkids now know that the health of everybody in the community matters for everybody.

Post Corona the status of teachers will go up. Corona has shown that schools are an important part of our communities. Corona has told us that looking after children or a class of children is difficult. Let alone teaching them something. My grandfather always knew this. He always valued and respected both heath care workers and teachers.

Post Corona the attitude of us public to politicians will change. Corona has demonstrated that we like and respect politicians who lead. Politicians who consult with experts, make decisions, pass new laws and inspire people to embrace the new laws. My grandfather always liked politicians who led.

Post Corona my grandkids will inherit decisive politicians.  There will be less focus groups; less single-issue lobby groups; less political marketing; less expert media performers; less celebrity endorsements; less personal hobby horses; less publicity stunts. There will be less sport or arts people publicity endorsing a product they know nothing about.

Post Corona the status of science will increase. People will listen to real, true facts based on objective studies. There will be less vague, nebulous, spiritual feelings.

Post Corona the status of certain jobs will go up. This means the status of other jobs will be less. Jobs involved in marketing, managing and staffing of big sport, music or food events will have less status.  

During Corona Facebook has exploded full of small groups. Groups where people create and post for members of the group. A lot of funny posts. A deluge of local talent has been exposed and given air.

During Corona art has become more local. It has been reflecting what the community is actually thinking and doing.  Post Corona I hope art goes the same way.

Post Corona I imagine less big art events. Less vacuous celebrities famous for being seen.  More local people seeing what other local people can tell them about their community.  More people illuminating their local community to itself. My grandfather would have liked that trend. He was actively local. Local was his life.  After watching the posts my grandkids have uploaded, they like the trend.

Post Corona I imagine local community sport rebounding strongly. My grandfather was always involved with local sport.  After a hard, fair game of cricket, he loved washing the sweat away with a communal beer. 

My grandkids are exhibiting the same behaviour. They play different sports but they love physical activity; learning what their bodies can do; playing by rules and socialising afterwards.

Post Corona newspapers will not dominate the local media.

I speculate that my grandfather would not have seen Facebook as good or bad.  He didn’t see the postman is either good or bad even though the postman bought bad bills and good Christmas cards. He would have seen Facebook as the latest technology.  A way of communicating.

About 100 years ago my grandfather wrote newspaper editorials. He was passionate about a free media in a healthy democracy.

My grandkids never met my grandfather but they share his interest in language, expressing opinions, and a healthy community. The technology available to them is different but they have much in common.  

Post Corona it is the turn of the next link in the chain to continue the story.

Chapter 245 :My life in Hobart

I begin the day with a run down the bike track and across the Domain. Very few people. Most are willing to greet me, say hello, provided I keep my distance and keep on running. People are probably friendly than normal.

After breakfast we take our dog for a walk. The shops are sparsely populated. Unlike a ghost town. No eerie flimsy ghosts floating around. The buildings are big and solid like the background scenery for a film when all the characters have left the stage.  Now the only remaining characters are a few purposeful shoppers. No lingering or window shopping or loitering or chatting or enjoying themselves.

Today is the day we make a special trip to watch a film. I lie back in my seat and wait for the film to start. The toilet is easy to locate and it is easy to find my way back to my seat. Only my family is watching the film. We are in our home.

Watching the film is perfect. The sound, picture, popcorn and finding the toilet is all perfect.  Not quite perfect. Nobody else has seen the same film. When I eventually meet someone, we will not be able to talk about the latest film.

In the afternoon we have to look after some of our grandkids until their parents finish work. Time for another walk. Our dog leads us down the Cornellian Bay track. Kay loves our dog and every dog we approach. Her love of every dog we near frightens me.

The track is lined by dropping casuarinas and native hop bushes. And the track is littered with seed pods. I ask them to collect seed pods to take home. I challenge them to think of ways to use these seed pods. Think of a way to use them in a work of art or make something with them.

Below the track is the bank of the river. We detour down to one of the beaches. Our dog loves to paddle. Run and skip and waddle. We skip stones, count the number of bounces and laugh at our dog.  

We see some piles of native oyster shells.  We talk about the aboriginal people who lived here in the past. The aboriginal people who encountered illnesses and diseases foreign to them. They must have been terrified of these new diseases.

My grandchildren are not stressed about new diseases or anything else. A few more days of school and then school holidays.  Holidays with no camping or any visits anywhere. Holidays where they are stuck with us. They will have to try and think of ways of keeping us amused. Stopping us from getting bored.  

When we return from our walk the grandkids begin drawing. Bruce draws a monster. He tells me it’s obvious what it is. It’s a T-Rex. He is attracted to our coffee making machine. He doesn’t drink coffee and he wants to use our machine. I come to his aid and say: I’d love a cup of coffee. Do I have to make it myself?

I don’t seem to have anyone to talk to. If it happened, I would have to pretend I had never been on a cruise ship. Cruise ship passengers have become the incarnation of evil. Sailing around the world indulging in hedonistic eating and drinking while giving passage to nasty viruses.

It is true that my last cruise gave me intimate knowledge of the medical quarters. But I did not bring any viruses back to Hobart. My only souvenirs were fridge magnets and key rings.