I see them right now, the little monsters. The boys are standing in the empty patch of grass that lies just beyond my shed, the backyard of a house that has been on the market for a while. One of them has a ball. The other three are chasing him, getting closer every second. Six feet? I’d say they’re about six inches apart. Not a single one is wearing a mask.
This is not the first time I have encountered these miscreants. Not only are they almost certainly trespassing on the property of whoever has been trying to sell the blue house for more than a year now. They are violating whatever has replaced the now-expired statutory emergency declaration as the pretext for my governor’s shelter-in-place order, a misdemeanor in the state of Michigan.
And I’m glad. What am I supposed to do? Open my window and politely inform them that they are not observing the Centers for Disease Control-approved six-feet rule? (They would get more leeway if we were in Europe, where the authorities maintain that distances be kept to 1.5 meters.) Call the cops and demand an immediate halting of this dangerous activity, i.e, a game for which the politest name is muckle? The mind reels.