No sniffles. No flu. No respiratory problems of any kind. No big parties. No gigs. No movies in a theater. No concerts. No get-togethers involving more than a handful of people. No seeing any relatives. No new discoveries. No visits to the office. No seeing a single co-worker. No Vegas trips. No Caribbean trips. No Florida trips. No flights anywhere for the first time in 32 years. No sitting at a single damn bar, chatting up the staff and enjoying dinner. One indoor lunch at a rural restaurant with the nearest diner 15 feet away. One socially distanced lake vacation and a dicey beach Saturday that was probably a bad idea. Four trips into D.C. Three day trips that were more than 20 miles away. One shameful riot. One new president. One application for a vaccination. One bit of hope at last. One year I’ll never get back.