Karl Puschmann is Culture and entertainment writer for the New Zealand Herald. His fascination lies in finding out what drives and inspires creative people.
What a year this week has been. From laughing at all those Australian loonies stocking up on loo paper last Saturday to suddenly planning with military precision the optimum time I should swoop into Pak N' Save on a 'Shock and Store' mission on Wednesday.
The world in NewZealand changed with a frightening pace and I'm not entirely sure we're keeping up. Are we ready? Are we good? I have no idea. Maybe? People who know about these things are saying from behind deeply furrowed brows to - and I'm paraphrasing here - just be cool and we'll be sweet as.
Okay, Jack. Roger that. I'm cooler than a cucumber wearing shades and a spiffy black tux. The only problem is I can't help but notice the extremely serious looks on their faces and the faint glint of fear in their eyes. Although I readily admit I could be projecting here.
I blame Hollywood star and lovable nice guy Tom Hanks. That bastard. He's the one who made it real. After he revealed that he'd tested positive for the virus it felt like the world suddenly sat up and took notice. By this of course I mean regular schmoes like you and I.
Those people with furrowed brows and serious looks on their faces had been taking a lot of notice since the outbreak first broke out of China a month or so ago. But with Hanks Covid-19 had got someone we knew. And that's when those toilet paper-hoarding Aussies stopped looking so silly and started looking like maybe they were on to something...
Still, I've read some very reassuring news on how we're combating it, I'm certain that hands have never been cleaner and the scientific catchphrase 'Flatten the curve' sounds like we're on top of this thing whenever I hear it.
More crucial though, is that the Government came out swinging at the virus. Their jab was made up of solid plans and their counterpunch was a host of safety measures and public messaging designed to stamp it out before it could get stuck in. This has made me feel much better about everything. Unlike some other countries whose initial plans were downright foolhardy and others who tried to bluster their way out of it. At least we seem to be in with a fighting chance.
Bono has shared a new song inspired by the Italians quarantined by coronavirus.
Especially because it appears that all of us Kiwis are united in taking this as seriously as we need to be. Everyone's heeding the warnings and recommendations from the experts.
So after keeping your hands regularly doused in soap, the next big thing, to my best albeit limited, understanding is to not panic. And that, friends, is where things get a little harder.
I don't want to panic but I do want to be prepared and I don't know where the line between the two lies. I don't want to be the only ostrich with my head in the sand and no bog roll in the toilet, if you know what I mean. But how much panic is the right amount of panic? Some? None? Lots? A pinch? A punch? A dash? I simply don't know.
Maybe it's better not to know. On one hand knowledge is power. But with power comes great responsibility. On the other hand ignorance is bliss. Is this what bliss feels like? Gotta say, bliss is a bit s*** to be honest.
VirusFacts2
Still, it's not all bad I guess. This week the Herald trialled having a majority of the team working from home, meaning I got to write this from the comfort of my pyjamas and a big fluffy dressing gown. I could never get away with that at the office.
A small pleasure I'll concede but in times like these you take what you can get, right?
As the sun shone in through my open windows - no reticulated air conditioning! - and I basked in my slovenly comfort - no societal rules on what's sartorially acceptable! - while tearing open a snack pack of Tiny Teddy's bikkies - soz, no lunchbox treat for you tomorrow 5-year-old daughter! - I thought to myself maybe this isn't so bad after all.
And it was right at that moment that I saw U2's vocalist Bono "sharing" a new song. It was a piano ballad he called Let Your Love Be Known that was inspired by the resolve of the quarantined Italians.
As a heavy hand clanged on the piano and Bono strived to hit a falsetto the colour drained from my face and the crumbs of delicious Tiny Teddy bikkies fell from my mouth and onto my fluffy dressing gown as the horrifying truth dawned on me: no matter how bad it seems, things can always get worse.
