At the beginning of the closure we were still innocent, and we had pedagogical programs for children. Now our mission is just to survive the day • Father's voice counts for hours

• Illustration: Ze'ev Engelmayer

Those long, dreary days, which look like just one big, never-ending day, have thrown me into a difficult and strange time from my distant 1920s. I would then get up every morning at a regular ritual of no choice, sit down in front of the TV and open it on the split channel. Every morning, I would look at the date on the screen, which insisted on changing, even though everything remained the same, concentrating mainly on spiral evasion of thoughts that were fluttering.

So today I'm not avoiding thoughts but kids squirting in all directions, but the principle remains - every day everything looks the same, except for the date and the numbers that are constantly updated on the screen, and I have to somehow survive this character test and get out of it. Not at all simple, especially as I write this paragraph I refer to the residue of Danny Vanilla.

One of my weekends in the fridge (come on) I came across a note that was stuck to the door. "The program for tomorrow: 8:30 - Gymnastics + a ball with the kids in the yard. 10:00 - Creation. After lunch - Improving reading and writing skills." It was almost touching to see how innocent we were on the third day of the closure. Since then, of course, pedagogical programs have been abandoned. Our mission now is just to survive the day, and the task of the children is to continue to weaken our character by all means available to them.

Don't be confused, my kids are no less charming than any other kid whose pictures / gigs I was exposed to on Facebook. But it seems that they - just like us - understand that we are not meant to spend that much time together, so they look at us more than ever. And, with each passing day, that test only gets more and more significant, and yes, sometimes one of them squeals, and all you have to do is just join it in a second voice. But being strong for them is the right thing to do, no matter what the cost, so Rabak, be strong.

Books in the future about this stressful period will tell us that together was what kept our heads above water. It is not the little sense of loneliness that we all seem to unite around in a narrow time, but the simple fact that everyone is really together in this fray. Everyone suffers, everyone groans under the burden, they all cling to their fingertips. And many troubles is just over half a consolation.

It also seems that in the last few weeks, more than ever, people are putting out their truth on social networks. Apparently the cooking time inside the pressure cooker is doing its job, and people are looking to unload, even at the expense of the image they have been careful to cultivate. It may be that a day after we remove the protective masks from the Corona we will return to wearing the usual protective masks, but at this point in time a small slit is formed, through which you can look at the neighbor and see that his lawn is equally injured.

Undoubtedly, the money we save now on fuel and abroad will be spent on marriage counselors at the end. Such a stressful period must come with a price tag, and the news that the education system will enter the delusional bridge by September 1 does not add up. For the sake of everyone's mental health, let's hope this Not really going to happen.

I do not have the tools to know if this is the most difficult period in the history of the country, but it is certainly the odd one. The dark streets, the distance interaction, the scared and confused people, the famous hotels that are filled with Corona patients, the sporadic news of Angela Merkel getting into isolation and the first American senator in Corona - it all reminds us of too many stressful movie screenplays we've seen.

When that is over, nothing will be the same anymore. It is difficult to explain exactly why, but it is quite clear that the collective human consciousness will undergo a change that it has not seen since the 1960s. And now, as the universe's cards blend in and the professionals flatten the curve for us, we just have to reinvent ourselves and our family. Small.

back

The back is another of the silent victims of this epidemic, secretly degenerating with us on the couch. Despite all the progress in the world, these damn back pains have yet to find a solution. Unless you want to do exercise every morning, a 16/8 diet, or any other insane activity.

Back implantation. It would have solved everything. But where, the doctors and scientists are now busy with this corona, and after the corona they will find other things that are far more important than back pain. In a few years, our brains will be put into eternal capsules, and those capsules will still wake up each morning with back pain that has no solution.

TV

As soon as I realized that this era was going to be fixed in Naama's memory and encouraged just as the Gulf War era was set in my memory, I put VH1 Classic on TV. We'll have some similar childhood memories. It did not work. The bloated haircuts of yesteryear left little impression on the children, and very quickly they wanted to return to the more colorful channels.

My long viewing hours with the kids during this week of isolation have proven to be a lot different since the primetime TV shows of my childhood. The way to convey the messages to children has been perfected, and even the messages themselves - to us have pushed down the throats of values ​​like "community," and today pushing individual values ​​of individuality - but at "unifying" times like this, it seems that television has been and remains a cynical tool to make children sing the anthem of The establishment.

Zoom

Like "Hubei Province" and "Epidemiological Investigation," this word has also entered our lives with the Corona epidemic. The video calling app is firmly in tune with the spirit of the time and is considered an increasing trend in the world. In fact, this is one of the only companies whose value on the stock exchange is only increasing during this difficult time.

This week, Naama's kindergarten teacher made a video call with all the children to demand their safety and read a story to them. I uploaded the wetsap to my home computer and joined the conversation. The preschooler was super nice, and most of the kids smiled, but there was something bleak about looking at how they communicated - like a quick glimpse into the future - to see their little heads wobble from strange angles, looking pretty lost in the designated squares they were in, like consciousnesses still searching for their place.

The kindergarten teacher told them a story about some fox coming out of the house to look for friends. It felt real to me, and then not real. A bit like this epidemic and everything that goes through the world.

shishabat@israelhayom.co.il