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<\/a>Since social distancing began, this friendly formation has become a regular sight on Arthur Street.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n By Nina Joss<\/em><\/p>\n My neighbor Stephen, a soft-spoken 31-year-old in glasses and a stocking cap, stood on the curb in front of his house, holding a large painted sign made of sheet metal.<\/p>\n On it, a balding man with bright eyes held a shot glass full of dark liquid in one hand, his other raising a finger inquisitively in the air. The words \u201cActs Without Discomfort!\u201d were painted in faded letters next to a bottle of Lash\u2019s Bitters, a natural tonic laxative from the 1930s. He held it up for our appraisal.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, this is like Antiques Roadshow!” exclaimed another neighbor, Maureen, standing in the street. “Fifty dollars?!” she guessed.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I\u2019d say something more,” said another neighbor from a few yards away. “Maybe $100?\u201d<\/p>\n Stephen proudly displays one of the many antiques he has collected over the years.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Stephen shook his head and smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s more.”<\/p>\n From browsing my share of antique stores on family road trips over the years, I knew that such things were often worth much more than you’d think at first glance. I wouldn’t pay more than a hundred dollars, but someone out there might. Someone out there might pay way more.<\/p>\n “In the thousands?” I guessed.<\/p>\n Stephen nodded.<\/p>\n His neighbors, a dozen of us who’d gathered around, broke into a chorus of astonished gasps and impressed exclamations.<\/p>\n Four and a half weeks ago I’d never even met Stephen, who’s new to the neighborhood. The antique Lash’s Bitters sign, he said, was just one of many valuable objects he’d collected during his years of dealing antiques, a passion-turned-business he’d adopted from his father when he passed away.<\/p>\n It was also one of the most personal and interesting facts I knew about any of our neighbors, who’ve taken to gathering in the street every night during this strange season of quarantine for a little socially-distanced social hour.<\/p>\n Welcome to Plymouth Pause.<\/p>\n At seven o\u2019clock each evening, the people of Plymouth, Michigan come out of their houses. They come dressed for the weather\u2013in shorts if it\u2019s sunny, in parkas if there\u2019s snow\u2013and they stand in a circle. This six-foot-apart circle is a place of familial banter, random stories, some awkward pauses and a lot of laughs. For 45 minutes every night, they break from the homes that hold them hostage in order to gather as a community.<\/p>\n \u201cIn most things in life, your interactions and your connections come from a commonality. Like you all go to the same school, you\u2019re all in the same family, or you work in the same place,\u201d said Kathleen, my next-door neighbor and long-time family friend. \u201cIn this scenario, you\u2019re from many different backgrounds, you\u2019re different ages, you\u2019re different family configurations and all that. But you can form a connection with those types of people nonetheless.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/a>