Sometimes, an early symptom of coronavirus is the loss of taste and smell. Tuesday is garbage day, so when I run, being downwind in the wake of empty containers reassures me I am not infected.

Many neighbors run, so I intentionally social-distance and try to stay outside of their “wake.” Are little virus particles flying off their clothes, or have they just sneezed or coughed? I can’t take a chance. My wife says, “Dr. Paranoid.”

Growing up, our 80-something-year-old neighbor, Mrs. Blakeslee, would make popcorn for us. I always got excited, coming home from school and smelling the “wake” of her heavy perfume near our front door, knowing there would be popcorn waiting inside. Pavlov’s dog.

Our old TV was always on the blink, so Mrs. Blakeslee would invite my brothers and me over and, of course, make popcorn. One day, my mom dropped in and heard us continually passing gas (darn popcorn). We were boys. She was appalled and made us apologize.

From there on, TV would not only be interrupted by commercials, but also by “Excuse me, Mrs. Blakeslee, excuse me, Mrs. Blakeslee.”

Even as young boys, we already learned wisely to practice social distancing.

Gene Uzawa Dorio, M.D., is a geriatric house-call physician who serves as president of the Los Angeles County Commission for Older Adults and Assemblyman to the California Senior Legislature. He has practiced in the Santa Clarita Valley for 32 years.