Life by Art: Part Six
Jesse Hulse
To hunker down, or not.
Sometimes it takes a national crisis, a cataclysmic event, or as in this case, a worldwide pandemic to allow a new set of linguistic terminology to seep into our culture. Several words and catchphrases that may have been around for some time have recently taken root into new meanings. I don’t think I’ve used the expression “hunker down” more than a handful of times in my entire life and yet so far this year alone, if I had a dime for every time I read or used it in a sentence, I’d be in the top 1% for sure. For those still not acquainted with it, the dictionary defines it like this:
hunker down [huhng-ker doun] : 1. to crouch or squat on one’s heels. 2a. to hide out or take shelter, often for just a few hours or less, as from a pursuer or a storm. 2b. to settle in to the safety of one’s home or other designated shelter for a potentially prolonged time, as would be necessitated by a natural disaster or an outbreak of a contagious disease. 3. to hold resolutely or stubbornly to a policy, opinion, etc., when confronted by criticism, opposition, or unfavorable circumstances. 4. to give one’s full and earnest attention to a project, assignment, or other obligation.
Pretty much on target, right? I thought by providing a definition, it might help clear up any misinterpretations of what it actually means. The correct number, as it applies to this writing is, of course, 2b. Or not 2b. And yes, that is totally the question.
Let me throw in a few others — face-mask, social-distance, hand sanitizer, binge-watch (FYI: 5 stars for The Handmaid’s Tale), online wine & spirits order, and curbside pickup. All fairly innocuous and tolerable terms for the most part. But, combine them with quarantine, PPE, ventilators, vaccines, frontline workers, then add in a healthy dose of frustration, a cup of boredom, a pinch of stimulus, and a whole lot of unemployment — and things end up sounding, well, more like a recipe for disaster. I was going to include toilet paper in that list, but that didn’t seem right when using a cooking analogy. But, yes, toilet paper hoarding. Who’d of thought that was a thing?
Of course, words only pale to the number 110,000. A mile-marker everyone should be made aware of and deeply saddened by. To put it into a relatable perspective: take a completely packed Phillies game at Citizens Bank Park plus a full-capacity stadium at Lincoln Financial Field for one Eagle’s game — men, women, and children. Friends. Family. Co-workers. All Americans. And, all gone. In the virtual blink of an eye. How do we put that in perspective? How do we hunker down for that realization?
So, for those of you who interpret hunker down as just your crazy neighbor’s excuse to wear a mask in the grocery store, or New York City’s problem, or an issue for Minnesota to deal with, or Sweden, or Timbuktu. Just know that it applies to all of us. From the top down, left to right, inside out. Of course, everyone has their own opinion on what to do next, and while some voices are louder than others, the virus can’t hear them and simply doesn’t care.
By definition, all of us are affected in one way or another. And yes, some will weather the ****storm better than others, and for many, life will eventually return to semi-normal (or as a recently viewed license plate read, ABNORML). The good news is that current national trends may be showing cases in Pennsylvania starting to wane, or plateau anyway. But it’s not quite over with yet folks, so we need to have a little more patience. Remember to tiptoe in, test the waters first, and most of all, remain resilient. And for everyone’s sake, just use common sense. Please.
Maybe it’s a small sacrifice to make in the face of things much larger than ourselves?
Loud and Clear (magazine illustration) by Jesse C. Hulse
® Jesse C. Hulse. All rights reserved.