NL·Weekend Briefing

Eggnog in October? If it gets you through 2020, who really cares?

Forget politics: what really divides people is eggnog going on sale before Thanksgiving, writes John Gushue. In a year of a pandemic, he says, people are finding simple comforts where they can.

In a pandemic, people are finding simple comforts where they can

It may not even be mid-October, but John Gushue bought a carton of eggnog anyway. (John Gushue/CBC)

In what often seems like a highly polarized political environment, I happened upon a topic that truly puts people on different sides of the fence: eggnog.

On Thursday, I darted into the supermarket to pick up some milk, and — lo and behold — there were cartons of eggnog.

I tweeted about it hours later. "Fa la la la la, la la la la," I wrote, because the melody of Deck the Halls had already become an earworm in my head.

Oh, do people have opinions. Many of the responses to my tweet fell into the "too soon" (and "WAY too soon" camp. There was also the "bring it on" camp (with a suggestion of adding rum).

I happen to agree with everyone here. What I didn't mention in the tweet is that I bought some of the oddly yellow, thickened beverage that Central Dairies produces every year.

Yep, my first reaction was, in a nutshell, to think about what day it was. 'Twas the night — plus two months and 16 other nights — before Christmas. It's hard not to think it's early when people are still thinking about their Thanksgiving menu. (Happy Thanksgiving, by the way. And Merry Christmas, too.)

My second reaction, almost as instantaneous, was to pick up a carton.

I think I agree with Mike Kehoe, who responded to my tweet with, "Why not? It's already been a messed-up year. What's one more thing?"

2020 has been hard on the noggin

Mike's thinking makes perfect sense, especially in the context of all things 2020.

The year of COVID-19 has been a year of upset. So many things have been upended in the pandemic: daily lives, vacations, plans both short-term and long-term, habits.

Our heads hurt. Literally, too. Stress, anxiety, worries, struggling to adapt to a "new normal" that is far from fixed … it all adds up.

A few times over the last month, I've woken up with a heavy feeling. I know from talking with others that I'm not alone; we're all dealing with a messy situation that's well beyond our control. I've been dealing with this by getting on with things and falling into the routines and habits that power us through the morning and the rest of the day: making a cup of coffee has sometimes been just the "click" I need to roll through it.

But I also know I'm parking some feelings that need to be acknowledged. A good walk has been helping (and that's been necessary as I help my right foot and ankle recover from the damage of a broken leg). Family meals have never seemed more important. Putting away my phone — sorry, Twitter, but you're not what I need quite a lot of the time — is essential many evenings.

Cream in your coffee

This is indeed a weird year, in so many ways.

Many workplaces are still adapting, and are nowhere near the state of affairs of early March. Many people are still working from home, to maintain physical distancing guidelines in the office. In bigger cities on the mainland, you read about office districts still seeming kind of hollowed out: closed coffee shops, quiet food courts, fewer deliveries to the water cooler. Indeed, no water cooler conversations, too — the small stuff that used to be part of ordinary lives.

Canadians like their eggnog. They drink around eight million litres of it every year, mostly during Christmas. (John Ulan/Canadian Press)

University students taking classes but not going to campus are, I think, at risk of having something close to a "lost year." While some lectures are being delivered to a camera, other courses involve, basically, notes to be read. Students are also off campus, and missing many of the best qualities of an experience that helps determine who they will be and what they will do.

Many businesses and employers are straining to hold it together. Budgets are tightening. It's hard to imagine that things will immediately recover when a safe vaccine is produced. Recovery will take time. 

Our social lives are different, and our leisure hours, too.

It all adds up. 

But we adapt. We cope, and we manage.

Honestly, I think the eggnog thing fits into adapting, even coping. It's a bit of comfort in a cup, and a moment of ease in a day of disruption. 

Then again, there's something about eggnog — and about timing.

"People have very strong opinions about eggnog," said my colleague Matt McCann, who, by the way, evaluated the beverage as "disgusting."

I admit to getting a kick out of just how divided people can be about something so innocuous. It's as if we need a bit of levity.

I like commercial eggnog (not nearly as much as the genuine article), but generally not until the Christmas holidays are truly upon us.

This year? I'm adapting, and a drop of commercial eggnog in my morning coffee on a sunny October morning is how things are rolling.


Read more from CBC Newfoundland and Labrador

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Gushue

CBC News

John Gushue is the digital senior producer with CBC News in St. John's.

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