I took part in a coronavirus ritual this week: the birthday drive-by. A friend celebrated his 65th birthday last weekend, and his wife arranged for a celebration he will not forget.
The staging area was at the beginning of their development in New London. We were the second vehicle to arrive, but before long so many cars had gathered that we had to move forward a few driveways. While waiting we took the opportunity to catch up with friends we hadn't seen in weeks, including some whose lives have been turned upside-down by COVID, like a funeral director and a flight attendant.
We'd been told that the procession would begin when the fire trucks arrived -- which they soon did, sirens blaring. The utterly surprised birthday boy was standing by his mailbox, wearing a mask and waving and thanking everyone.
Dearest Partner had made a "Happy Birthday" sign on a big piece of cardboard and held it up through the sunroof as I drove. A friend on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle paused as he approached the house and then revved up the bike and sped by. One couple arrived in their convertible with the top down; the tiara-clad wife (a great-grandmother several times over!) was seated in the back waving like a beauty queen. Amused neighbors watched from their front yards, some recording the spectacle on their phones.
The whole thing was over in just a few minutes, but it was great fun. Our friend, a Navy veteran, has survived some health challenges in recent months, so this was a very happy milestone.
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