On Saturday, March 21, I felt a twinge of panic. I had to service my car in the Portland area, so I drove up from Salem with a plan to do that, get my hair cut at the nearby strip mall, and then run into Fred Meyer to pick up necessities before heading home.

Interstate Five was empty, as it had been for a week. The waiting area at the dealership was reconfigured to allow maximum space between people. I was a week or two overdue for that haircut and believed salons and barber shops would close indefinitely within a couple days, so the shearing had to be done now. The problem was finding a place that was actually open before a mandated closure; it took driving another half hour north to do so. A Fred Meyer was next door, so I went in to grab a few things. It was unnerving. Shelves were bare, employees looked anxious, and many shoppers wandered through the aisles in masks. I got out as quickly as possible and flew back down the freeway.

The surreality of the COVID-19 pandemic continued the following Monday. The office had fewer people than the week before. Some of us talked about regularly feeling on edge. Oregon Governor Kate Brown announced a stay-home order, effective immediately. A few of us essential employees decided since we had the technology, it was safer for us and our families to work from home. Efforts to make this possible had been underway for a few days, and it was time to deploy.

As of last Tuesday I have a radio studio in my home office. When I was a kid I used to pretend I had a radio station in my bedroom. Now it’s actually a reality for the time being and is quickly becoming the new normal. Workflows are evolving to be more efficient with the way work is done at home, and I’m learning new ways to do what used to be automatic. A bonus of being at home is having my daughter nearby as the longest spring break ever continues. She’s very curious about what goes on in Daddy’s office these days, and I let her hang out from time-to-time.

I don’t know how long this goes on, and anxiety lurks in the back of my mind as the news worsens each day. Something has profoundly changed in the world, but it’s not yet clear what that means. Right now I focus on doing my job to the best of my ability and staying well. That’s all I have control over. I also continue playing the ukulele at night, which has a calming effect on my psyche.

I do need to be in the regular studio this Tuesday afternoon for a few hours, and we are advised to carry our Homeland Security letters authorizing unfettered travel during the health crisis. That sentence looks weird to read back, but it’s also part of the new normal, just like continual hand washing.

On that note, be kind to your industrial washed hands. Be well. And though you are working at home, please keep wearing pants. Take care…

I was talking with a friend recently about the various mental states people have as we navigate the coronavirus pandemic. Some think it’s the Apocalypse while others haven’t fully grasped the seriousness of the situation, and there are far more of the latter. My friend called it normalcy bias, which isn’t a new term but one I hadn’t heard before. It is defined as underestimating a disaster and the possible effects by believing that things will be the same in the future as they were in the past.

My friend had a unique view of our present state of affairs in January when he traveled in Asia and saw what was transpiring as people tried to get back home to China and couldn’t. He actually predicted what is happening right now in our own country. I laughed him off, but he continues to be right. So, I had my own normalcy bias. (“That’s not going to happen here!”)

He was also correct about the economy. The financial markets are reacting to great uncertainty and a woeful federal response to the virus that has made a bad situation a full-blown crisis. When the virus is under control we will see the markets stabilize, but no one knows what the economy looks like then. Honestly, that scares me more than the virus ever will. There is plenty of wishful thinking floating around, some of it bordering on delusion, but if the Dow closes over 30,000 points by November, then I’ll be wrong.

With things changing so fast, on not only a daily but an hourly basis, it’s not easy for anyone to wrap their head around the crisis or know how it will play out in its entirety. Major paradigm shifts in our way of life are occurring. Some of these will be long-lasting; others may be short-term, but new shifts we can’t imagine will come from this, too.

I think of two major events that seem similar to our current health crisis, at least on the surface. One is World War II. For years the United States watched Hitler’s armies march across Europe and the Japanese exercise aggression in Asia. Suddenly one morning it became our war too. The fighting required enormous sacrifice and changed the U.S. permanently. The other event is 9/11. That was much more sudden but also brought major enduring shifts in the way we live. How will COVID-19 permanently change things for us? Stay tuned, but I believe that opportunities will arise from the chaos — things we might not have imagined before. When I was a kid I used to pretend I had a radio station in my bedroom. My family thought it was hilarious. Now, I have a real radio station on my desktop at home. Seriously, who saw that coming?

Don’t panic, but do the best you can to understand the gravity of our situation and take necessary precautions, less for yourself and more for those around you. We will get through this. Together. Know that it is okay to let go of normalcy bias, which our brains use to protect us. Life will go on. Keep washing your hands. Oh, and use moisturizer. My hands have aged 30 years in two weeks. Be well, be safe, and find humor in something each day. If you have a small child at home on the longest spring break ever, you’ll find plenty of laughs.