I remember being in 7th grade the first time I was exposed to Purel. As with many a new-fangled product, it was a craze among us partially formed adolescents navigating those tumultuous years.  It had such a strong punch when it hit your nostrils, as if your hairs were burning. For the impatient, it was a welcome way to get a boring but necessary task out of the way without a second thought.

My mom often reminded me that there is no substitute for hand washing with warm water and soap.  ‘However,’ she’d continue, ‘in cases of emergency, sanitizer will do.’ EMERGENCY is the operative state in which we now find ourselves (seemingly in perpetuity … #COVID). I was never big on PureI. I didn’t mind a meaningful 20 seconds at the sink cleansing away microbes and viruses that threaten my life plans. Lately though, you’d think hand sanitizer was a precious metal, what with its triple plus markups on the likes of Amazon and eBay.  Overnight, we went from drowning in Purel to feeling like we entered the black market for any solution comprising 65+ percent isopropyl alcohol.

Had I been one to get sick frequently, I’d find obsessive sanitizing appealing. But it took me 29 years to contract my first flu. I remember sharply a news report on The Today Show circa 2007 about “good bacteria.” It’s the reason I drink kombucha and acquit myself of anxiety around certain germy predicaments. A dermatologist was invited on air with a controversial message about daily showering.  She suggested that showering every other day is sufficient assuming one hasn’t been playing football in the mud.  By 2007, the western world had developed a love affair with antibacterial products to the point that our immune systems were falling out of whack. The time had come for recalibration. It seemed like children everywhere were dealing with peanut and wheat allergies. Schools began creating “peanut free zones.” Little allergy sufferers sometimes had to eat alone seated against cafeteria walls - a saddening sight. Research the link between C-Section births and asthma, allergies and eczema if you want a deep dive into why bacteria is often a friend, not a foe.

I suppose a pandemic is itself an opportunity for recalibration - if we can call swinging to new extremes “recalibration.” In an instant, hand sanitizer and isopropyl alcohol became scorching hot commodities that even online shops were sold out of. Some local businesses saw an opportunity and shifted their focus away from their traditional production to that of sanitizer. A nearby distillery seemed to blaze the trail on a donation basis with one ounce spray bottles of sanitizer made from ethanol, aloe and essential oils. They sold out quickly after each batch was made available on a one-per-customer basis. Donations will help fund a park project. It was around this time that I noticed a local design company called Yield throw their hat in the ring. They’re a progressive manufacturer of furniture, jewelry and accessories. A scroll through their website is pleasing to the eye with its clean, crisp aesthetic. Such a cohesive palette is soothing in the midst of a chaotic crisis that preempts primetime programming almost daily. Their take on hand sanitizer spoke to more than killing germs. The first time I caught a glimpse of the glass spray bottle boasting notes of chamomile, cypress, bergamot and coconut...I knew I was buying into an abstract sense of calm. Sure, the product does what it should by killing germs - but I will be recycling the glass bottle eventually to make way for my own concoction of distilled water and some essential oil blend.  I got in the habit of crafting my own “Febreeze” this way. My brother loves to tease me, preaching that diluted eucalyptus oil is no substitute for anti-microbial spray. My enthusiasm over certain products can be amusing to the more cynically-minded. But purchases are more than transactions. Knowing I was about to get my hands on enough sanitizer for my family that would last at least a couple of months in the midst of a pandemic was major. It was becoming impossible to find in stores. Supporting business owners and staff that I’ve interacted with in person eliminated the mysterious barriers of a big box company. If I were a small business owner, I wouldn’t think twice about buying what some might label a boujee sanitizer (it smells phenomenal.) Something I found comical while checking out online was that financing was available for my purchase of two 4 oz. bottles of sanitizer. I could have made four payments over the course of a month ( I’m grateful that the item was on sale at the time.) Our overwhelming demand for convenience has turned us consumers into real brats - oh well.

My family and I put a spin on our daily walk recently by heading into town to cross the Bridge of Lions.  On the way home, we swung by the post office and there it was waiting for us...a small square box meticulously taped with the words YIELD prominently displayed through and through. The package would have survived a cross-continental flight in my checked luggage without leaking. That level of attention to detail and protective packaging earned my admiration. An isolating global crisis is a great time to #treatyoself and celebrate for the sake of celebrating.  Opening the shipment felt like unwrapping a present from someone.

I know that right here in my little city, meaningful purchases help my neighbors maintain some version of normalcy while livelihoods are threatened. All because we want to see each other succeed.  

It’s not about the sanitizer, people.