A summer without song

There’s a good reason the well-heeled name their boats things like “Serendipity” or “Freedom” or “Footloose.”

In our most idyllic imaginings, summers are spontaneous, unscripted, lazy, hazy, crazy and carefree. They’re devoted to sun-kissed recreation, free-ranging road trip or thrilling sudden romance.

And music? Summers have music. You couldn’t have a campfire or pool party or feel-good seasonal flick without it. Like John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John cooing “Summer Nights” at each other in “Grease.” “Summer loving, Had me a blast, Summer loving, happened so fast …”

And speaking of “Footloose,” what about dancing? Summers have dancing. Like Kevin Bacon leading local teens in dancing the night away in Bible-thumping small-town Oklahoma.

Or like Chubby Checker urging everyone to “twist again like we did last summer.” Well, not so fast, Mr. Checker, et al. That was then. This is now. This summer, spontaneity and exuberance, singing and dancing in communal spaces, are the last things the doctors are ordering.

The prescription is for planning and wariness, for distance And for stifling whatever music is in you and ordering your dance-happy feet to sit this one, in fact to sit this entire season, out.

The reopening from the COVID-19 lockdown in Ontario — while obviously welcome after the past three months — is turning out to be something less than the grand affair we’d been hoping for.

Ontario patios might be re-opening and tippy-toeing into Stage 2, but hold the singing and tripping the light fantastic.

The Ontario government — fast becoming, even if for good reason, the mother of all nanny states — has banned singing and dancing in its plan to reopen businesses shuttered by the deadly outbreak.

Documents obtained by the Canadian Press also say singing is banned in child-care settings and discouraged — surely the work of the devil — in places of worship, which were approved last week for reopening across the province.

To be sure, the decisions are based on science, not some joy-squashing cult or religious sect.

After all, if even talking sends potentially hazardous droplets into the air, imagine the microscopic maelstrom of saliva and nasal secretions if we’re singing, shouting, dancing, panting or otherwise whooping and hollering.

Ontario’s guidelines vary slightly by sector, with the advice for restaurants saying that “no dancing or singing may be permitted in the outdoor dining areas,” the only ones cleared for use during Stage 2.

So, if you’re at an outdoor patio, masked and socially distanced, and hear, say, Kim Mitchell and “Patio Lanterns” kick up, don’t sing along. Not a note. Hum it to yourself. “Who was gonna be, Who would be the first to dance? Who was gonna be, Who would be the first to kiss?” We won’t have that kind of thing. Not this summer. If you do patronize the song-and-dance-free patios of the province, remember also the warnings against using the washroom or sharing condiments and be prepared for longer than normal wait times, due to cleaning and hygiene procedures.

All in all, it’s enough to make staying home with a good book sound like the more exciting option.

Meanwhile, the guidelines for places of worship, currently allowed to operate at 30-per-cent capacity province-wide, are more specific.

The government says congregational singing or chanting should be suspended, leaving singing duties to a cantor or soloist positioned at least four metres from worshippers.

Recommendations for the child-care sector, also cleared to resume limited operations, discourage singing indoors. The Health Ministry’s guidelines for day camps counsels against indoor singing and encourages standard physical-distancing protocols for singing outdoors.

This re-opening is sounding a lot like pie without ice cream, hot dogs without mustard, Bryan Adams without his first real six-string back in the summer of ’69.

And don’t even think of singing along.

This summer, spontaneity and exuberance, singing and dancing in communal spaces, are the last things the doctors are ordering