pandemic

Love On Lockdown: Tips For Dating During The Coronavirus Crisis

Food For Thought, , ,

By Sam Sanders and Anjuli Sastry

Spring is supposed to be romantic — enjoying long dinners on the patio at your corner cafe, introducing your new beau to friends at an outdoor concert, holding hands on an evening stroll … except coronavirus. So, none of that is happening. And yet, people are still seeking love and connection.

In fact, dating apps like Tinder and Bumble have seen the length of user conversations and number of messages increase since shelter-in-place orders went into effect.

But finding love right now feels kind of like the Wild West. The old rules don’t really apply — if you have a good Zoom date, what’s next? And if you’re already in a relationship, great! But how do you hole up with someone 24/7 without going bananas?

It’s Been a Minute host Sam Sanders got some timely advice all about managing love right now. Lane Moore, host of the comedy show Tinder Live and author of the memoir How to Be Alone, shares some tips for virtual dating during the coronavirus pandemic.

(And for those maintaining a relationship during the pandemic, scroll down! We have a few tips on getting through this without biting your partner’s head off.)

1. Don’t force yourself to use dating apps right now.

Nimarta Narang lives in Los Angeles and is a sporadic user of the dating app Hinge. She says she has a bad habit of logging in, making a few matches and then forgetting about the app for a month or two. When she returns after a long silence, those matches aren’t exactly ready to chat.

“I’m finding that during quarantine or the self-isolation period, I’m even worse for some reason,” Narang says.

If dating apps don’t fit into your life right now, don’t force it. “Just take some time off,” Moore suggests. Finding a partner isn’t some sort of assignment you have to complete right now.

She eschews the idea that dating should be easier since people are under lockdown and have more “free time.” “We’re not operating with normal energy in a crisis. If a building is burning, you know, you’re not going to be like, ‘Oh, well, now they’re burning. A lot of time to, like, catch up!’ … You gotta deal with the burning building.”

Her advice: “To not hold yourself to this idea that because you technically, on paper, have more time, that like there’s more productivity or you can focus more. This isn’t the same units of time we’re used to.”

2. Embrace the real you.

Image is an undeniable aspect of virtual dating. So what do you do if you want to create a profile with your best face forward, but don’t have the usual resources?

That question came to us from Jacqueline, who wrote into the podcast Dates & Mates. “Salons and businesses are closed, so one can’t have a makeover done. Is it OK to do the best you can with what you have with items at home?”

While there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look your best, Moore says to consider the double standard. “Women are held to such a disgustingly higher standard that like now you have to maintain, like untold levels of hotness in quarantine.”

Moore acknowledges it might sound sappy, but this is also an opportunity to embrace a more authentic version of yourself. “Maybe now is a good time to be like, ‘This is what I actually look like.’ “

3. Be honest and direct.

Chelsey Smith met a guy online at the beginning of the pandemic. “We have our fourth FaceTime date scheduled for later this week,” she says. “How do we keep momentum if we can’t meet each other in real life?”

Moore says you can get a good idea of chemistry through a video chat. So if everything is going well — you feel comfortable and there are no signs of caginess — she suggests being honest about not knowing how to proceed. “I think that you could just ask him because he’s probably thinking the same thing. It’s entirely possible that he’s thinking like, ‘Oh, how are we going to move through this?’ And who knows, maybe he has an answer,” Moore says.

“It just ultimately comes down to is it worth it to you?”

4. Give yourself some extra grace right now.

This is an evergreen tip for anything pandemic-related: Be easy on yourself. Forgive yourself. This is a hard time. You might not get it all right.

4 Tips For Those Already In A Relationship During The Pandemic

To figure out how to help an existing relationship thrive during the coronavirus crisis, we checked in with Damona Hoffman. She’s a certified dating and relationship coach and host of the podcast Dates & Mates. She’s also under lockdown with her spouse and two children.

Here are four tips to help your relationship survive:

1. Make a plan to spend meaningful time together.

“I recommend setting up an actual date night. There’s so many things that you can do at home to still make it special,” Hoffman says. “Maybe even something nostalgic that reminds you why you’re together in the first place.”

Game night, sip and paint, stargazing, anything! “When’s the last time that you took a moment to go outside and actually look up at the stars? Get your little blanket to cuddle up, keep it cute.”

2. Don’t expect your partner to be your everything.

Your significant other might be the only person you’re getting within 6 feet of, but they can’t fulfill your every emotional need. Expecting one person to check every box is a recipe for disappointment and resentment.

“Rather than looking at your partner as just your best friend and your intimate partner,” Hoffman says, “try to find other avenues and other people in your support network that you can connect with virtually or [through] a distance hangout.” That way, the pressure is off your partner to be your sole support.

3. When feathers are ruffled, listen and take breaks.

Fights with your partner during lockdown are different. You can’t go get advice over drinks with your friends. You may not even be able to move to a different room. What’s the solution?

“What I would love to see people do is to focus on listening and understanding right now,” Hoffman says. “It’s really easy when you are in an argument to try to be heard and to impress your perspective on the other person. But especially right now, there are a lot of problems that do not have a solution, that will not be resolved by you making your point.”

If you’re in a fight, try putting a pause on the conversation and doing something else. “It might just be folding the laundry,” Hoffman says. “Then set a time that you and your partner can come back and have this discussion. So say, ‘Why don’t we talk about this tonight after the kids go to bed or tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to talk to my therapist?’ “

Even in lockdown, there are lots of ways to access therapy, from virtual appointments to apps, Hoffman says. “Use the tools that we have available so that you can be your best self in the relationship.” (Here are more tips on accessing therapy from home.)

4. Don’t ignore the elephant in the room.

This is a tumultuous, isolating and uncertain time. If you find yourself turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms or addictions, don’t try to sweep them under the rug. It probably won’t work very well, and doing so “really can be a silent relationship killer,” Hoffman says. “These are the exact kind of things that you need your partner to be your support system on.”

Hoffman says to talk about the elephant in the room. “If you just shine a light on it so that everyone knows it’s here,” she says, “then you can actually talk about what’s going on.”

From ‘Parks And Recreation,’ A Brief But Delightful Return To Pawnee

Television, ,

By Linda Holmes

It’s been five years since Parks and Recreation ended its run, after a final season that jumped forward into the future — specifically, to 2017. We haven’t got the nifty transparent touchscreens their 2017 showed. Instead, we have a pandemic, and we have social distancing, and we are doing without many of our comforts, large and small. But for a half-hour on Thursday night, we did not have to be without our friends from Pawnee.

The special, conceived, written and filmed during the weeks of isolation that have idled much of Hollywood, began — after an intro from Paul Rudd’s lovable rich dummy Bobby Newport, who’s living an oblivious life in Switzerland — with Leslie (Amy Poehler) and Ben (Adam Scott) checking in via video chat. He was at home with their kids; she was somewhere else. He’s in Congress; she works for the Department of the Interior. There are nods to the things he’s done to amuse himself during lonely moments in the past, from his Claymation experiment to his complicated board game, Cones of Dunshire. She’s worried about him.

But Leslie, being Leslie, is running a phone tree with all her former colleagues, because she checks in on everybody to make sure they’re all right. She calls up Ron (Nick Offerman), who’s out in his workshop in the woods — and he’s still doing battle with his second ex-wife, played by Offerman’s wife Megan Mullally. What makes that particularly funny is that Ron is with Tammy 2, but the show is otherwise stuck with the limitations of actors who can’t be in scenes together, even though the story would have them living together. This is sometimes solved with humor, as when April (Aubrey Plaza) is not with Andy (Chris Pratt) because he’s locked himself in the shed (classic Andy). It’s sometimes solved with simple logic, as with Ben and Leslie’s busy jobs, or when Ann (Rashida Jones) is quarantining separately from Chris (Rob Lowe) and their kids because she’s still working as a nurse. It is a pure quirk of casting and the intersection with reality, but it’s also very funny, that out of all these people, only Ron and Tammy 2 can be together.

The episode, written by show creator Michael Schur and a virtual room of the show’s former writers, finds some very clever ways to incorporate the oddities of video calling. Tom (Aziz Ansari) and Donna (Retta) are using the same tropical background on their call together, because they are always looking for ways to live well. To treat themselves, as it were. And Garry (or Jerry, or Terry, or whatever they’re calling him right now) (Jim O’Hehir) is unable to figure out how to turn off the camera filters that make him look like a dog or a baby.

But one of the reasons I tried — oh, I really tried — to keep my expectations low with this special is that Parks has always been, for me, a show about togetherness. At weddings, at funerals, at parties and weird public events, it’s typically been at the height of its powers when a group connects. And I’ve seen enough Zoom calls to know that groups of faces on a screen have their charms, but they can’t really get to the emotional place that a group hug wants to go.

I was wrong to doubt.

Because of course they found the perfect final moment; of course. It wasn’t just the “Bye Bye Li’l Sebastian” singalong (although it was that, obviously). It was that we got a little slice of what became my favorite story of love in all of Pawnee when Ron reminded Leslie to stop taking care of everybody else and let people take care of her. This group of writers found a true character beat, one that made sense for the moment and is absolutely what the Ron we know would need to tell the Leslie we know, that they could write into this special. Mostly, yes, it’s just a visit — with the whole gang, with Joan Calamezzo and Perd Hapley and Dennis Feinstein and Jean-Ralphio. And that was such a spirit-lifter that it would have been really fine.

But then there was that little bauble of a reminder that even though they’ve been separated for years, even before social distancing, these people still love each other, and they still know each other. It’s so funny now to look back at the great feature Vulture did in early April in which writers speculated about what their COVID-19 episodes would look like. Schur said a lot of things that didn’t come true in the special, quite. But he also said this: “Ron would be thrilled because now there’s a reason for him to be alone with no one bothering him. But he would worry about Leslie.” And that little bit of emotional realness in an entry that’s largely jokes, is the part that survived.

That, and the lighters, and the singing … well, I cried, of course. But it was the nice kind of crying. Maybe I even needed it. And hey, sometimes that’s all you can ask for from a visit with old friends.

Head Back To Hyrule: When This World Is Uncertain, Return To Game Worlds That Aren’t

Food For Thought, ,

by Glen Weldon

When it comes to videogames, I’m no bitter-ender.

If anything, I’m a dilettante. I’ve played many games with gusto for hours upon hours, to near-completion, only to get distracted by something — work, husband, dog, whatever — that keeps me away from them for a few days. By the time I pick up the controller again, everything about the game in question — my location, my objectives, whatever the hell the L3 button does — has been wiped from memory. I’m a babe in the virtual woods, but my opponents don’t know that. They know only that I’m at a relatively high level, that I’ve unlocked most of the map, and I’ve secured myself the good armor. They come at me with their advanced-level ferocity, and proceed to wipe the floor with me.

It’s dispiriting, so, over and over again, game after game, I bail, thinking I’ll come back to this. Someday. When there’s time.

And now? Today? With the world as it is, there’s anxiety and uncertainty — plenty of both.

But also, finally, there’s time. Lots and lots and lots of it.

Some will eat through the hours they’ll be spending at home with books, movies, television shows and games they’ve never encountered, enriching their experience with novel discoveries. I’ll be doing … some of that.

But what I’ve already started doing is returning to games set in vast worlds full of panoramic landscapes and lonely vistas, with craggy mountains and undulating seas, with bustling cities and sun-dappled meadows. It’s supremely comforting to find yourself wandering paths you’ve wandered before, their every turn and twist lodged somewhere in your muscle memory. It’s satisfying to look at the world map and see its every once-feathery boundary has sharpened into rigorous clarity. Because the secret of open-world gaming is that you determine just how open any given game is. Yes, you can diligently tick off the objectives like some kind of grade-grubbing grind, or you can, lovingly, chill. Here’s what I’m playing/chilling with now, and what I’m playing/chilling with them on.

The vast and immersive 

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Switch)

Sure, in this latest Legend of Zelda game, you could do what the game wants you to do, and collect the things that will help you fight the other things that will help you to rescue the princess. Or you could do what I do, and ride your little horsey through Hyrule’s breathtaking valleys and mountains and hills and rivers until you find a nice spot to watch the clouds pass by as butterflies flutter around you.

Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (PS4)

It’s a bit harder to avoid combat in this game than it is in BotW, but you can do it — I believe in you. Me, I always plays as a Mage, so for me “combat” is more just “backing quickly away from the scary thing coming at me while throwing panicked fireballs at it,” but whatever. If you follow the story path, you’ll learn to talk to dragons, but you’ll have to fight a lot of them, too. Why not just visit villages and learn how to forge your own armor and weapons? Treat it like the Learning Annex, if the Learning Annex had mudcrabs.

Red Dead Redemption 2 (PS4)

See Breath of the Wild, above, in re: riding your little horsey. Only this time it’s the Old West, instead of a fairy tale kingdom, and you’re a cowboy, not an elf. Also you probably don’t smell very good.

Shenmue 3 (PS4)

You’re young martial artist Ryo Hazuki, and you’re tracking down your father’s killer in and around the the vast city of Guilin, China. Sure, go ahead and fight folk a lot, if that’s your thing. Or you could just wander the city and forage herbs, and gamble, and drive a forklift (long story).

The fun and frustrating

Marvel’s Spider-Man (PS4)

The story elements of the game are strong and challenging, but who’s kidding who — the best part of this, and of any Spidey game, is web-slinging your way from Battery Park to Washington Heights, while pausing to perch atop the Chrysler Building and just … look. (Note: This is the rare game I’ve played to 100% completion, unlocking every unlockable thing, up to and including the ability to play as Spider-Man dressed only in his tighty-whities, and sending him strolling though the Ramble in Central Park.)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order (PS4)

As much as I love fighting baddies with a lightsaber — and love it I do, though I’m terrible at it — this game turned out to be less open than I’d hoped. Several levels feel a bit too Tomb Raider-y for their own good. (Why do I have to keep jumping off ledges to grab a rope? I’m a Jedi! With the Force! I should make the rope come to me!)

God of War (PS4)

Everyone’s favorite bald, muscle-bound gruff-but-not-particularly-lovable demigod Kratos is back, with his plucky son in tow, and this time he’s on a quest through the realm of Norse mythology, though he’s characteristically unhappy about being the plaything of a whole new set of gods. The game keeps pushing you to the next objective, but don’t let it boss you around — stop in one of its more gorgeous settings to smell the lutefisk.

The weirdly addictive

Northgard (Switch)

I mentioned, on a recent episode of Pop Culture Happy Hour, how much I love old-school Real-Time Strategy games like Age of Empires and Battle for Middle-Earth, in which you start with a town center and a villager and gradually grow your settlement, collecting supplies and building armies with which to swarm your enemies. It’s a genre of gaming that’s fallen on hard times, recently, with the move to online, where people can purchase upgrades and proceed to kick your butt.

Me, I love the relaxing atmosphere of building up your town and seeing all your little villagers toiling away happily. I asked listeners to send me suggestions of modern strategy games they liked and a listener (Thanks, Houston Taylor!) suggested this one, and man, does it scratch precisely the right itch.

You’re in charge of a village of Vikings who must survive harsh winters and mythical beasts and … other Viking tribes. The graphics are simple but charming, and while I’m still mastering the controls on the Switch, it’s exactly the right soothing/engrossing/addictive fuel mixture I’ve been hungering for, as I settle in for a long quarantine.

A note on massive multiplayer online games

They’re not for me. Or at least, they weren’t.

I’ve tried a few, over the years, but … well. The nature of having to play with or against strangers always rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, if I wanted to get gay slurs hurled at me by a nine-year-old I could just walk out my door, without paying a monthly subscription.

But now … I don’t know. Even this early into social distancing, the notion of entering a virtual space and seeing teeming throngs of other people’s avatars just sort of … walking around? And going up to them, and interacting? I imagine it’d feel wholly different, today.

I mean, inevitably I’d be the noob getting repeatedly pwned by some jerk who’s camping at the respawn. But I can’t help thinking that before too long I’ll be grateful for a little human contact-by-proxy, even if takes the form of utter, thorough and unremitting pwnage.