In spite of 55 years of marriage, Jack Schindler and I have almost nothing in common. We don’t like the same movies, television programs, books, music, food, etc.
For example, he likes movies where things blow up, while I like movies where people talk to each other.
I often say the multiplex saved our marriage. We each go to the movie of our choice then meet up afterwards.
You might think that the past four weeks of our captivity would have resulted in an escalating battle of will. But the opposite is true. The quarantine has actually produced a small measure of togetherness.
Jack has gone with me on a number of three- and four-mile walks, and I’ve accompanied him to the grocery store. (Previously, he shopped solo or with his pal Marvin.)
We eat dinner together. We don’t eat the same thing, of course, but we start and finish around the same time at the same table. Baby steps.
We made face masks together. He did the cutting, and I did the sewing.
We made Mandelbrot (Jewish biscotti). I measured ingredients, he stirred.
We’ve even compromised on a few movies and documentaries on television. “Compromise” is the keyword here. He’s never going to enjoy “Ozark” or “The Plot Against America,” and I refuse to watch “Where Eagles Dare,” “Die Hard,” or, for that matter, anything starring Bruce Willis.
The point is that after all these years, we’re discovering a few things we enjoy doing together. Who knew?
In the musical, Fiddler on the Roof, Tevya and Golde look back at their marriage, which had been arranged by their parents, and realize that after all their years together, they, in fact, love each other.
To paraphrase the lyric a little: “It doesn’t change a thing, but even so — after  years, it’s nice to know.”
What new worlds have you discovered while sequestering in place? Please comment here.