An odd Memorial Day picnic for these times.

Like millions of other Americans, my wife and I wanted to get together and share food, drinks and conversation with our longtime friends during the Memorial Day weekend.

But that’s not so easily done these days, is it?

Should we even suggest such a thing? Would it be safe?

God knows we had all been warned about the dangers. The New York Times last weekend posted a story under the heading “Smarter Living” titled “How to have a safer pandemic Memorial Day.”

“Is it OK to visit family and friends this weekend?” the alarming article began. “From our infection-control standpoint, the answer is no. You shouldn’t be mixing households until the new infection numbers in your area are much lower.”

The story darkly warned: “The mixing of households can add fuel to the viral fire.”

The story’s writer, Erin Bromage, said that if you are so reckless as to mix, you should “vet your guests” to “make sure they have the same level of concern for the risks of infection as your household.”

Bromage also advised: “create separate

dining spaces; use disposable utensils, plates and cutlery; create a hand-washing station; guests should bring their own food, drink, ice and coolers; keep your distance; wear masks; create physical barriers so that you don’t drift closer to one another” and “create an obstacle-free path directly to the bathroom.” Also, have guests use paper towels when touching doors and faucets. Let the good times roll, eh?

But we decided to go for it. You can’t go by everything you read in the New York Times. My wife asked Amy and Tom, two of our dearest friends, if they would be willing to risk meeting with us at a park for a picnic last Sunday. They live about an hour north of us, in Granby, so my wife suggested we “meet halfway.”

Amy said they really wanted to see us too; we hadn’t seen one another face-to-face since before mid-March, when Connecticut went into lockdown. We had done a “Zoom cocktail” but as many of us have learned, it’s not quite the same.

Although Amy liked the concept of a picnic, she was worried about doing it in a park. What about using the public bathrooms there? Might they be a source of infection? And so she invited us to come to their home, to their spacious back deck. They were willing to risk hosting two people from New Haven, which has had 2,182 residents test positive for the coronavirus. Granby has had 20.

Amy and Tom’s daughter Haylee, who is home for a prolonged period because she is on furlough from her job near Boston, would also be there. And so would their cat Benny and their black Lab, Luke. We asked if we could bring our dog Olive; they said: no problem. We haven’t reached the point where we’re worried that our dogs are spreading the virus.

Before we left home we bought our own sandwiches and wine. We understood this was not going to be like any other Memorial Day weekend gathering. There would be no standing near each other at the grill, touching one another and touching shared surfaces, plates and utensils.

When we pulled into their driveway we applied hand sanitizer, put on our masks and carefully approached the front door. Mistake! Amy stood on the other side of the door and told us to walk around to the deck. It was better for us not to go inside.

But we were pleasantly surprised to see that Amy wasn’t wearing a mask. So we took ours off, too.

Hugs? Kisses? Handshakes? Fuhgedaboudit. That’s all so yesterday. We waved and smiled from a safe distance. My wife and I sat down at least six feet away from Amy, Tom and Haylee. They had their food and drinks on their table; we had our food and drinks on our table, properly segregated.

Tom knows I like IPA beer, so he had generously bought me several cans of different local brews. They were arranged in a bag at my feet.

Tom and Amy asked us to please use the bathroom off of the garage and not the one near the bedrooms. It was OK to go through the house to get to that lower bathroom. But when nature called and I got down there, I took my mask out of my pocket to turn the doorknob and the faucet and use the flusher on the toilet. I felt like a crook in a crime show who is afraid of leaving his fingerprints.

Later in the afternoon, when Tom made some coffee for me, I thoughtlessly went with him into the kitchen and talked to him while he brewed it. Afterward I wondered if I had stepped over the line by being there. But if I made him uncomfortable, he didn’t let on. He let me stay.

Of course the virus dominated our conversation during the entire visit. How could it not? Well, we did discuss some of the shows we’ve been bingeing on, such as “Succession.”

All in all it was great catching up with our old friends. It sure beats Zooming.

But man, it was kind of weird.