Under lockdown in the Lakewood Ranch area, we can still be kind

A single bicycle rider buzzed down Lakewood Main Street at lunchtime on a quiet Monday.

Way too quiet, due to the coronavirus.

"It's a ghost town." the cyclist yelled as he passed.

At this point, area merchants would take ghosts.

The rider, along with a person cleaning at Paris Bistrot were the only humans in sight, Empty doesn't do the scene justice. Perhaps abandoned would work better.

Welcome to the world of the unknown.

I guess that is what bugs me most, that I don't have any timeline for all this. President Trump talks about his 15-day program to stop the spread, and I would do a jig at the Main Street fountain if that were, indeed, an accurate prognosis. That's March 31. We can all hope.

Certainly, the federal government knows more than we do about whether they have some kind of vaccine or handy-dandy, at-home kit to test yourself for COVID-19 coming down the pike in massive proportions. Everyone going on a cruise ship takes the test, and if they're negative, it's time to let the Mai Tais flow.

My cruise is scheduled for April 25. Can you tell?

In the meantime, I'll put little umbrellas in my drinks at home and wish for the best.

All our East County businesses are wishing for the best as well, and they don't even want to consider the worst. They have no timelines, either, and they aren't worried about going on a cruise. They are worried about their employees losing their homes, their apartments, and their way of life. They worry whether they will be met with an ice cold economy when they return, something that would extend the misery.

It's something to ponder as we sit on the couch and select our next binge-watching session. But if you aren't waiting for Ozark's return on March 27, you might ponder lending a hand to a local business, those guys who support the Little Leaguers, the Humane Society and Meals on Wheels.

Perhaps that takes the form of a phone call to let the owner(s) know you will be back as soon as we get the green light. Maybe it means a few more take-out orders than you normally would be inclined to buy over the course of a week.

I asked Karen and Rich Medford of Sirius Day Spa how the public could help them.

It had to be a tough question for a couple who always are on the giving end.

Rich Medford had an answer, though. "Don't cancel your membership," he said.

There you have it. Those who use their services, take note.

For others, keeping an auto repair appointment might mean a lot, or buying that clothing item from the boutique.

If we can't help a local business, we might at least attempt to help each other. Everyone can keep the kind words flowing.

Deb Robertson of Greenbrook has been walking around her neighborhood each morning just to get outside and to feel like she isn't quarantining herself.

"It's very calming," she said. "And it helps me keep a good perspective on life."

While walking, she has come upon what she believes to be a growing trend. She said people are creating rainbows and putting them on their windows or their balconies. This week, she saw several rainbows drawn on the sidewalks of her community.

"It's people doing something nice to make other people smile as they walk by," she said.

One said, "Count your rainbows, not your thunderstorms."

Yes, Deb, I guess we all have to remember that to make a rainbow, you need a little rain.

Too bad we don't have a weatherman to tell us when the coronavirus deluge will stop.

Perhaps our feeling is best described by Pat Erskine, the 90-year-old mother of Let's Create Art owner Leda Francis.

Erskine has been asking her daughter, "How long do you think they will keep us locked up?"

I wish I knew.