Who Still Remembers COVID?
A pandemic, a punchline, and the art of collective amnesia
A global pandemic, worldwide lockdowns, masks on every face — and now? Mostly a source of jokes and nostalgic tales about hand sanitizer and toilet paper.
It was so long ago. Way back in 2020…
Sometimes it feels like COVID was a bad dream — a shared nightmare humanity had at the same time, woke up in a cold sweat, and then immediately went back to scrolling Instagram as if nothing had happened.
Remember when we argued about which side of the mask faced out? When kids studied on Zoom and parents learned to count to ten before completely losing it?
Today, when someone coughs on the bus, you don’t reach for the sanitizer — you just hope they’re not coughing on you.
But let’s pause for a moment: how did a pandemic that froze the world turn into a passing punchline? And seriously — who still remembers COVID?
The Return to “Normal” — and Our Collective Amnesia
In 2020, the world stopped.
In 2021, it tried to restart.
By 2022, we were half-functional.
By 2023, we only took PCR tests when we needed an excuse to skip work.
And by 2024? COVID was officially downgraded to “former pandemic,” filed somewhere between the Black Death and Angry Birds.
Since then, humanity has devoted itself — religiously — to selective memory loss.
No official declaration, no national ceremony, no solemn minutes of silence. We all just decided, quietly, that we’d rather not remember.
And why not? If we can forget an anniversary, surely we can forget two years of panic, isolation, and “social distancing.”
Empty shelves? Logistics problem, not a pandemic.
No masks at the pharmacy? Good — what is this, Tokyo?
Someone coughing in a movie theater? Just pass them a mint, not the CDC hotline.
A Fairy Tale for the Post-Millennial Generation
Tell kids born after 2020 that there was a time they couldn’t go to the playground, and they’ll stare at you like you just mentioned the Crusades.
“You mean… like, there was no TikTok?” your twelve-year-old gasps, before resuming a video with a talking dog filter.
COVID has become modern mythology. Everyone’s got a personal war story:
“I was in a high-risk group! My grandpa got his third booster before it was cool.”
“I survived lockdown with five kids in an 80-square-meter apartment — and only three wet wipes!”
“I bought a designer mask for $35 and wore it once!”
It’s like military service — if you weren’t there, you just won’t get it.
Economics, Politics, and the Pandemic That Silenced Everything
Of course, it wasn’t all about sourdough and Netflix. COVID wrecked economies, reshaped workplaces, fueled anxiety, and reminded us that maybe, just maybe, scientists know more than your cousin’s Facebook post.
In Israel, COVID became an all-purpose excuse:
Elections? COVID.
Budget deficit? COVID.
Why there’s no teacher’s aide today? Someone was exposed to someone who might have been exposed to someone who coughed on Zoom.
And now? Politicians don’t mention it at all. COVID disappeared like campaign promises. No one wants to recall they pushed for a fourth lockdown or created a “Committee to Examine Committees.”
Where Are They Now?
Like any faded celebrity, the stars of the pandemic have moved on:
The Mask – now used to cover pickles in the fridge, or by people too shy to admit they just have a cold.
Hand sanitizer – those sticky bottles are gone. Who’s left with gummy hands? We are.
Antigen tests – empty boxes that remind us we once poked our own noses “for family.”
Zoom – a respectable workplace tool, still haunted by the ghosts of third-grade despair.
The Vaccines – still around, but now competing with seasonal flu and a chronic case of FOMO.
So, Who Really Remembers COVID?
Parents – when they have a sore throat and need a day off.
Teachers – when kids ask if they can do remote learning “just this once.”
Scientists – because that’s literally their job.
The perpetually bitter – because they’re still mad at how it was handled.
And the rest of us? We remember… but we’d rather not.
Because if COVID taught us anything, it’s that humans adapt, forget, and move on — and eventually, turn it all into stand-up material.
P.S. Maybe we should write this down somewhere. Because next time (and according to the Chinese, there will be a next time), at least we’ll be able to say:
We were there. It was wild. There was sourdough.
Now please pass me a mask — I’ve forgotten which side faces out.
הירשמו כדי לקבל את הפוסטים האחרונים אל המייל שלכם
