WATCH YOUR STEP
A sign in Wascana Centre reminds users of the proper space to leave when practising social distancing on Thursday.
Welcome to the brave new world of social distancing — or, as I used to call it, dating.
Those were the days in which the separation was often measured by a 10-foot pole.
But now, in response to the COVID -19 pandemic, people are advised to avoid one another by at least six feet.
How is this working?
In a valiant attempt to answer that question, I conducted an informal survey that is guaranteed to be accurate within 95 per cent at least five per cent of the time.
During a late afternoon walk around Wascana Lake on a mild Monday, I decided to count the number of people with whom I crossed paths during one lap.
Over the course of a 50-minute stroll, I counted 289 complete strangers.
The good news: 274 of them maintained a social distance.
The bad news: 15 meandering souls infringed upon the six-foot zone, even though I was on the far right side of the pavement. (If need be, I quickly darted to my extreme right, even if it meant walking on the road, immersing my feet in mud, or alarming a duck.)
Approximately 5.19031142 per cent of the park-goers were seemingly oblivious to the need for social distancing.
On average, there was a tooclose-for-comfort moment every three minutes and 20 seconds.
The worst offenders? Those who walked side-by-side — two abreast in eight cases; three abreast in one.
(Suggestion: When approaching someone who is moving in the opposite direction, pairs or trios should momentarily walk single file to allow for a healthy distance.)
The worst region? The west side, where six of the eight sideby-side duos were duly noted.
The other six people who infringed upon my treasured personal space broke down as follows: Two cyclists, two joggers and two solo strollers who walked on the yellow line in the middle of the path.
Move over!
Some other stats …
People wearing masks: Three. People who sneered at me: Two.
People who did not clean up after their dogs: Two.
(We presume that one of the, er, autographs was left by a dog, although the elephantine size of the deposit did create reasonable doubt.)
As anyone who has perused my sports columns can verify, I am a fancier of statistics — perhaps excessively so.
If you want to know Cody Fajardo’s completion percentage (a team-record 71.0 in 2019), George Reed’s career rushing-yardage total (16,116) or how many receiving yards Joey Walters amassed for the 1981 Saskatchewan Roughriders (1,715), just ask me and I will instantly respond by boring you into submission.
And now, for variety ... uh, more stats!
Regina Leader-post articles in which “social distancing ” is mentioned, 1896 to 2019: Six.
Saskatoon Starphoenix references to “social distancing ” over the same period: Four.
Both newspapers’ totals for 2020: 21.
“Social distancing ” has suddenly, surprisingly, become part of our lexicon.
And maybe, just maybe, the message is sinking in.
There were some encouraging signs — in more ways than one — on Wednesday, when this correspondent embarked on an early evening walk around the lake.
Mere seconds after the trundling began, I saw the first of 12 signs that had been posted along the path earlier in the day.
The message: “Thank you for practicing SOCIAL DISTANCING. Keep a distance of 2 metres (6 feet) from others.”
Some quibbling: (a) It should be “practising,” not “practicing”; and, (b) Two metres is actually 6.56168 feet.
Nitpicking aside, it was nice to see the strategically placed cautionary messages — which prompted a second informal survey.
The sample size was considerably smaller, because the latest walk took place at a non-peak period on a chillier day. It began to snow as soon as I arrived at the park.
In any event, the latest data provided a modicum of hope.
Of the 46 people with whom I shared the path, not a single one was a social-distance violator.
Granted, the park wasn’t nearly as busy, but 46-for-46 is preferable to 274-for-289.
More than once, people who had been walking side-by-side transitioned to single file as I approached them. The assumption was that they were embracing the fine art of social distancing, although it might have been my cologne.
Here’s hoping that common sense — as opposed to an uncommon scent — was the reason for six feet of separation.