The letters ‘BC’ mean a lot of different things to different people. In Canada it’s generally British Columbia. In Connecticut, where I now live, it’s most commonly associated with Boston College. To others it can have meanings as diverse as ‘Backward Compatibility’ or ‘Ballistic Coefficient’ and of course to gazillions of believers around the world it stands for ‘Before Christ’

Following on from current events however, ‘BC ‘may well take on yet another, very different connotation for us all. One whereby, for example, the year 2016 would be renumbered as 4 BC – as in four years ‘Before Coronavirus.’

The before Coronavirus definition of ‘The Good Old Days’ – which for many was a time when we were young, fancy-free and had the rest of our lives ahead of us – has already morphed into the much more immediate past: Like just a couple or three months ago, but months that already seem like an eternity. And there are so many things that we took for granted that we now miss.

There were all those wonderful, crowded flights we used to enjoy. Like those Friday night, inevitably delayed, flights home: Your knees had lost all feeling since the idiot in front rammed his seat back as soon as the wheels were up. They were (again) out of Scotch by the time the cart glacially crept up to your row. Even the Black Diamond Almonds you love so much were regularly sold out – “No, I don’t want Cheese Puffs instead, thank you very much.” Then there was the remote parking shuttle-bus that often took over 30 frigid minutes to pick you up, dooming you to the worst part of rush hour. Ah yes! Looking back, I wonder how many of us, sitting under house arrest are already saying, “Those were the days – I really miss it!

Like when the Uber you called finally showed up – after you’d watched him get lost and creep around the block, not once but twice. Climbing into the back seat at your feet you were greeted with the last rider’s discarded Subway wrapper and – oh look – half the sandwich is there too! Huh, so what? No big deal. I don’t know why I was so silly about it at the time. That said, now I’ve got nowhere to go but if I did, I probably wouldn’t risk doing it by Uber.

And morning commuter train rides into the office. Ah yes, I miss those too. There was always that one guy who seemed hell-bent on making sure the entire carriage heard every word he shouted into his phone. “So listen up – you’d better get this goddam deal nailed down today or you can kiss your @#$%^&* bonus goodbye.” In retrospect – I really kind of miss that guy. Like rubbernecking a traffic accident, it made you feel good you weren’t a part of it. Somehow Zoom meetings from the sterile, solitary safety of my ‘home office’ just don’t give me the same opportunity to gloat.

And all those wonderful nights in cookie-cutter hotels – I’m out of mints already and starting to run low on the little souvenir bottles of shampoo and conditioner. So yes, I suppose it would have been nice if they’d written SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER and BODY LOTION in something bigger than mouse type so that in the shower (without my glasses on) I could read which was which. If you get it wrong, some body lotions are a female dog to rinse out of your hair! But looking back on it now, what the heck. Those little keepsake moments all added some much missed excitement to the start of the workday.

So, when the ‘new normal’ gradually evolves, as it surely will, and we are all able to start moving around again – maybe with fewer hugs, kisses and handshakes than before – could it be that we will be altogether more tolerant of travel’s little annoyances and imperfections? Maybe briefly – but in the long term I frankly doubt it.

And following on from BC, might the letters AD also assume a new meaning other than ‘Anno Domini’ (‘in the year of the Lord’)? Does 2021 perhaps become 01 AD as in year one After Disinfection. Or is a such a question just proof positive that the isolation of house arrest is just slowly starting to drive me into complete madness?