Coronavirus19 Diary - The Beginning of the 3rd Act

 With vaccines on the horizon I have remarked over the last few days that we are at the beginning of the last act of this saga. Unless it is Shakespeare in which case we would be in the middle of the 4th act with a 5th act to follow, but I digress. In speeches and interviews I am heartened to hear members of a incoming administration speak in full, coherent sentences, who appear to have the ability to create and, hopefully, if congress does not get in their way, enact plans designed to move us through these final months.

There are, however, many who still harbor the hate and division created by the present administration. Once we control the pandemic and right our covid ridden ship we will still have that to deal with. If the country is to survive we will need to bring as many citizens as possible into the fold. 

I no longer, as I once did, fear civil war. I realize the people on both extremes are greatly outnumbered by those tired of chaos and disagreement. I feel many, for the sake of lives marked by peace and calm, are willing to come together to talk about our national troubles and possible solutions to them. It is a strong and important first step forward. Yet is is only one of many steps our country will need to take. Chaos breeds chaos and over the past 4 years chaos has reigned supreme.

It is like a  river which, after a  heavy rain rages, leaves destruction in it's wake. Yet, once the deluge ebbs, returns to a beautiful pathway, home to a mixed bounty of life, moving peacefully forward.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Bumps in the Road

Mid week it was announced, Chicago would have a stay at home advisory in place for 30 days starting the following Monday. On Friday evening I got the call, I was, once again, on furlough. I had expected it might happen. Now working for a small, family owned company, considering the circumstances, I probably would have made a similar decision as they. Once foot traffic was back to an acceptable level I was assured I would be called back.

As I've stated before, during these difficult times we are more fortunate than many. Overcoming boredom would be my greatest challenge. Saturday I eased into my situation, I watched movies and a 1961 BBC Canada production of Macbeth, starring Sean Connery in the title role, that I been interested in for several years which had become available on YouTube. I considered it a homage to the recently deceased actor. 

There is football, although my home team seems to be fumbling about in the dark this season, and my gym is still open. With obsessive attention to sanitation, mandatory mask wearing, temperature checks, occupancy controls and the members self enforcing social distancing I feel relatively safe there. 

My holiday decorating will be toned down this year but we will have a tree. That is a project I can spread out over a couple of days. I'll straighten closets and clean and organize cabinets, once again, as  during the first lock down, taking on the responsibilities of the traditional homemaker of olden days. 

One bright spot was being home to see our President Elect speak and answer questions from reporters. He was informed and statesmanlike. I had almost forgotten what that sounded like. Also, several vaccines show promise.

Once again I repeat to myself a mantra I have repeated often during these benighted times, patience.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Despair, A Moment of Joy and Hope

 Finally on election night I forced myself to bed, depressed, watching Trump lead in several states needed for Biden to win an electoral college majority. My mind refused to rest. Over and over in my head I considered how I, and the country, would survive another 4 years of leadership by a man who was just short of, if not fully deranged. I would wake up and turn on the t.v. to see the latest counts. At 4 a.m. I saw that Wisconsin had been called for Biden and hope began to return.

The next day I felt as if I was jet lagged despite my feet never having left the ground. Over the next few days I watched as Trump's lead in key states began to shrink, disappear and eventually be surpassed by Biden. 

Saturday morning I stepped off the bus on Michigan Ave. enroute to work and encountered a group of people jumping up and down on the sidewalk holding their phones aloft. Horns began to honk. Two young guys came down a side street yelling. I pulled out my phone to see a text message from my husband, two words, "Biden wins". I let out a yell. It was a wild, unintelligible noise. A bubble of anxiety bursting and manifesting itself in a sound which was a mixture of relief and joy.

As I left work later that evening Michigan Ave. was packed with cars, their horns honking, flags flying from their windows. Networks showed people across the country and the world dancing in the streets. It was a moment of near unanimous global euphoria. 

But, as happens after many joyous celebrations, afterward we find our challenges remain. The pandemic worsens and administration officials refuse to acknowledge Biden's victory and assist with a transition, even with Biden receiving a clear majority of both the popular and electoral college votes. There is the question of control of the Senate. Poverty and mass unemployment still run rampant. 

But I still hold hope that we will come through this dark time a stronger union. There will always be extremists on both sides of issues but I have hope that a national leader that promises to bring us together, not attempt daily to drive us apart, will be the beginning a country that I dream of. Even if it is the first small step in a long road, a country where we begin to care and support fellow citizens of both the country and the world.

I have hope.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Future Hopes

 Election eve. I wanted to write this down, today, when I, nor anyone else, knows what the future holds.

I hope that tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, that I find myself living in a country that cares for it's citizens and where it's citizens will begin to care for one another. I find myself living in a country where the chaotic waters of the past few years begin to calm. That I find myself living in a country where we can begin to heal, to unite. A country where we realize that no one group, or ideology, owns it, but that we all share it. Where honesty and decency and respect begin to flourish once more.

I, nor anyone else, knows what the future holds.

I hope

Coronavirus19 Diary - Work and Hope

 I am working. It feels good to say it, or in this case commit it to virtual paper. After 3 months of furlough waiting for a return to my former employer and another 3 months of unemployment after being informed my position was being eliminated, I, once again, get up in the morning and head off, suitably masked of course, to work. 

I am grateful, that through luck, frugality and adhering to a tight budget, we managed to emerge from this period economically unscathed. I feel for those not as fortunate as we. I feel for those lined up at the food bank I pass on my commute. I feel for those losing homes, struggling, victims of an unprepared administration. 

Our country is an imperfect, dysfunctional union. Factions still battle factions. This could have been a period of unification. people working together and taking measures, fair and patriotic ones, that would have made this time less difficult for everyone. But the present administration, selfish and heartless, completely lacking in empathy, does not unite us but spreads hate, fear and division.

My hope is that the country is growing tired of this hate, this division, the countries emotional disease, just as they are growing weary of the still necessary mitigation efforts needed to control the physical disease we are experiencing. My hope is that the goodness and kindness in our country will rise once again to defeat the distress and despair and fear of those, different than us, with whom we share our country. I hope we begin to unite, heal and realize that one side or the other does not own the country but that we are all in this together.  

Coronavirus19 Diary - Observations While Biding My Time

It was 2 weeks prior to the start date that the job offer was made. There were things I needed to accomplish. There were specialized certificates I had to acquire and black pants to find for my new work uniform. There was a bit of this and a bit of that, all to ensure that my return to the workforce would go as smoothly as possible. Despite these preparations, until the start date, I still have some of the excess of time I have had for the last 6 months. I still have the time to observe, in detail, the events going on in the U.S.,  often at break neck speed. 

A legendary woman, her contribution to our nation virtually incalculable, sadly passes away. Within hours of the announcement of her death the political carrion known as the Republican Party are vowing to replace her despite a highly contentious election being held just weeks away, early and absentee voting already underway. The final Supreme Court nominee of the previous administration was put on hold for 8 months by the Republicans. 

A woman is shot 6 times in her bed yet none of the police officers involved are charged with her death. Only one is charged, with reckless endangerment for the shots that penetrated adjacent apartments, not for the shots that penetrated the body of the dead woman. Protesters, the great majority of them peaceful, once again pour into the streets of cities across the nation.

 All the while a dangerous, childish president, who we learn has attempted to turn tax avoidance into a fine art, states he will not guarantee a peaceful transition of power while attempting to throw into question the legitimacy of the upcoming election. Lest we forget, a pandemic is still raging across the country and 850,00 new people file for unemployment each week.

During these abnormal times people are longing for normal. Some states open up exacerbating the risk of new infections and deaths as a result of complications of the virus. Citizens, never adequately protected financially by the government for the necessary shut down, teeter on the edge of poverty and homelessness. 

Mask wearing, a proven deterrent to transmission of the virus becomes a political hot potato. People rail about their rights yet have no issue with trampling on others right to dominion over their own bodies. They wish to legally censure people for who they love. They moan about the lack of morals in the country today, yet do not show the simple human concern to wear a mask to protect others. 

I do not know how it will end. I try to remain optimistic. I remind myself that, according to polls, a majority of my fellow citizens still cling to the values of decency, truthfulness and the acceptance and worth of others. I hope for the best and bide my time as I await a return to work.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Chicago Is Not Dead

 It seems like every day there is another story about a restaurant or bar closing and people proclaiming the death of Chicago. Much of this is blamed on people working from home during the pandemic. Many feel that this is a permanent condition and downtowns will become wastelands of deserted high rises , once busy streets lined with towering, empty boxes of glass and steel. 

Although companies are seeing cost savings on the horizon resulting from work from home models there are problems associated with it. There is a lack of the positive effects of socialization including the spontaneous collaborations that happen when people work together in the same space. While some functions, such as record keeping and routine interoffice communication, can be preformed adequately at home, the ability to react quickly to an unexpected opportunity or obstacle is hampered when people have to be brought together in Zoom meetings or conference calls rather than being brought together in spur of the moment desk side discussions. 

There are human issues as well. Employees that live alone feel isolated. New hires lack mentorship and recognition for the quality of their work. People in small or shared apartments have difficulty creating a space to work efficiently from home. Some I have talked to bemoan the lack of a work/life separation and balance.

It is possible, perhaps even probable, that office occupation will never return to pre-pandemic levels. Chicago's downtown landscape is somewhat unique as it has been redeveloped over the last few decades to include a mix of both residential and commercial spaces. Over the course of it's history Chicago has been forced to reinvent itself several times. It has been burned to the ground, it's once infamous stockyards and meat packing district a thing of the past. Many of the warehouses from that time have been recreated into a art galleries. The riverfront, once pockmarked with parking lots, as seen in the opening credits of the Bob Newhart Show, is now a wall of spectacular late 20th and early 21st century architecture. 

There are signs of a more normal life returning. Although performances cannot be held safely yet, our museums, though not back in full force, are reviving. On recent visits to the Art Institute we, even as members, had to wait in virtual lines to experience socially distanced exhibitions of the work of El Greco and Monet. 

Some restaurants and small businesses have had to permanently close, however, once the pandemic is under control, once it is behind us, others will open in their place. It will take time but 6 months, even a year or longer, is not long enough to kill the drive of the entrepreneur, or merely someone, as I once did, who decides to pursue a desire. Who, aware of the risks, forges ahead, deciding the risks are worth taking a chance to follow a dream.

Coranavirus19 Diary - Fall's Future

 It is beginning to feel like fall. The sun comes in from a different angle, slanting across the landscape instead of warming it from directly above, as it does during summer's apex.

I watch a country in crisis. Led by a man that behaves like the mad Roman emperors of legend, who pits citizen against citizen, perhaps believing that by dividing us he will conquer. It is difficult to look forward to the future during these times, it takes all one's energy just to wade through the present.

We are more fortunate than some. Over time we were able to put away money for a rainy day and things  seem to be opening up in my industry, hard hit by the pandemic and lock down, partial lock down, another great failing by our current leader. I feel for those with children, scraping to get by, once proud working people forced into long lines at food banks.

I have faith that this will someday be history. Another chapter of "I remember when". I have faith that somehow, through either chaos or compassion and compromise, our country will reinvent itself. I do not have faith in what I desire to lie on the other side, a kinder, gentler, more unified society, will come to pass. I will go through time toward the future one moment at a time, waiting, witnessing and trying as I do to make sense of it all.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Unity

I think back on election night 2016, watching with horror and dismay as the results came in and it became apparent that, because of the antiquated Electoral College, a person totally unfit for the position  was to become the President of the United States. I, like a number of others, consoled myself with the belief that the law of the land and our well realized system of checks and balances would keep him from doing too much harm. We have come to discover that he, and an entire political party, have no respect for either. 

This past week I watched with hope and cautious optimism as the Democrats held their virtual convention. The message of unity and inclusion helped heal a small part of the emotional wound within me. We, as a country, are tired, masked, unmasked, confused and confounded. Many are financially devastated. Our systems are broken, our economy shattered. We are divided by fear, distrust and hate. Our problems are many, the solutions coming from our present leader misguided and few. 

On the final night of the convention the man asking for our vote spoke of working together to move us to a brighter future. We are in a dark time, but, we have experienced dark times before and have always  emerged from them. We have fought civil and cultural wars and survived intact. 

Some rail about socialism and the imagined evils associated with it, refusing to acknowledge that police, fire departments, national infrastructure and public schools are paid for, yet not equally used, by all. Socialism is sharing. If you have more than you need you reach out and help someone who does not. The union creates strength, a bond. It is the moral, or if you like, Christian, thing to do. Will there be a financial benefit to those who give? Probably not. Will there be an emotional one? I would hope so.

By working together, by sharing the responsibility, by unifying, we can make it through these dark times. We can re earn the respect of the rest of the world. We can be an example of how a nation, smashed to pieces, can be reassembled into a thing of beauty. 

Coronavirus19 Diary - My Front Yard

 It's across the street from our apartment. A vacant lot really, it's sandwiched between two of the highrises that line Sheridan Road in Chicago's Edgewater district. A concrete walkway runs down the center. Lawn flanks the walkway on either side. There are a half dozen benches, surprisingly comfortable. 10 or 12 trees are spread out, each ringed with a circle of stones at their base. At one end limestone boulders tumble into the blue waters of Lake Michigan. 

It is serene, by city standards. Traffic is a gentle rush. It's mixed with the noise of construction, providing the bass tones of the city's symphony. There is the occasional honk of geese flying by in their V formation. Butterflies float by, small birds hop through the grass, people sit, appropriately distant from one another in these times or walk dogs, enjoying the short season of Chicago sun. 

Technically part of the lakefront, during the height of the lock down it was closed off. Open now it has become a place of refuge. A place to read, write or simply quietly contemplate. It has become my front yard, the difference being that when it snows I won't have to shovel it.

Coronavirus 19 Diary - Rights and Responsibilities

 I am laid off. I have lots of time on my hands. I am living through a deeply historic period in both my country's and the worlds history. So, I catch odd bits and pieces of things, moments I might miss if I was working. Stomach turning Trump press conferences, talking head round table discussions on the talking points of the day. And, more recently, appearances by the Democratic presidential nominee Joe Biden. His introduction of Kamala Harris as his running mate gave me hope, for the first time in a very long time. His remarks the next day on mask wearing were those of a leader and a patriot, one who truly cares about and for his country.

As he spoke he stated mask wearing is not about your rights, it is about your responsibility. A sense of responsibility, this seems to be one thing in short supply during these times. The current occupant of the White House refuses to take any responsibility for the handling of the virus or the shattering of the economy. The economy, what Trump once touted as his greatest achievement, revealed to be for many a fragile thing, a house of cards. Much of the population jobless, once proud middle class people lining up for hours at food banks, while the extremely wealthy make billions, that's correct billions, as their fellow citizens suffer.They see no responsibility to share these earnings with those less fortunate, or even those that they employ.

The looters take no responsibility for their vandalism and theft. Their families take no responsibility by not questioning where the new, expensive shoes they are wearing came from. Some spokesmen, not all, of the BLM movement suggest that these stolen items are reparations, payback for years of racism, instead of denouncing the looting as an irresponsible act.

Tens of thousands of motorcycle enthusiasts converge on the small town of Sturgis, not wearing masks, irresponsibly putting not only those that call the town home at risk but also those in their own home towns when they return. Politicians irresponsibly send children back to school sans masks or social distancing, putting them, and those that teach them at risk. Denial of a potentially deadly kind.

When the pandemic began there was a catch phrase, "We're all in this together", although we never truly were. My state locked down for 3 and a half months. Our consistent, relatively low positivity rate, despite the irresponsible behavior of some, and phased reopening was the right thing to do. It was difficult, it cost us business and jobs, making glaringly apparent our decades of irresponsible behavior regarding the way we care for our citizens during times of crisis. Other states either did not lock down at all or for a much briefer period, throwing the doors open too early, allowing the virus to spread across them. 

A vaccine is, at best, 4 months away. Patience is what is needed. There will still be sacrifices but if we truly are all in this together what we give up now will aid the future. 

Show compassion, show concern, wear a mask, It's our responsibility.

Coronavirus19 Diary - An Almost Normal Day

The Art Institute, it is one of Chicago's great treasures, indeed, a national one. It to, is plagued by the virus which continues to ravage our country, as well as the world. Shuttered for several months it has just reopened. Albeit with some areas closed, greatly reduced opening hours and 50% of it's former staff. The other 50%, like so many others, laid off, jobless in an unwelcoming employment market. 

Presently unemployed myself I decided to take a break from pursuing job boards and with a friend that is retired, pay it a visit. We have a membership, surprisingly affordable, and generally go 4 to 5 times a year. 

There is an exhibition of the works of El Greco, 4 years in the making. The exhibit, already scheduled to close, was extended. The museum went into it's dormant state just 7 days after it had opened. They were able to extend the loans of the works, gathered from collections around the world. After all, I thought, where would they return them to? Another shuttered museum? While not a huge favorite of mine I knew that it would be my only opportunity to see some of the pieces in the exhibition. 

We arrived at the museum during the first hour which was reserved for members only.With safety protocols and capacity limits in place we gave my name and phone number at the entrance of the special exhibition galleries and wandered other portions of the massive cultural treasure trove, my friend remarked that it was impossible to be bored there, while waiting for a text informing us that we would be the next to enter. 

I have another friend, we have known him for over 20 years, who works in installations at the museum. I reconnected with him a few years back at the neighborhood gym. I once asked him what it was like to hang a Monet, "You get used to it", he replied. He is extremely well educated when it comes to art, surrounded by it during every work day. He mentioned that they had rehung the El Greco show to allow for social distancing. 

A couple of days earlier he had sent, through Messenger, a photo of a newly exhibited Keith Haring work. He mentioned that a Basquait was displayed in the same space. We headed to gallery 293. The large, fantastic, almost garish in a good way, Basquait takes up one wall. The Haring is on the opposite wall  Two large Haring designed terra cotta urns sit to one side of it. The urns, the friend told me, had been in storage "forever". 

We pondered what else remains in storage that we don't see. Over the years I have discovered works pulled from the deepest recesses of the vaults during special exhibitions. There are always surprises in the prints an drawings galleries. Works on paper cannot be displayed for more than 90 days due to their fragility. We discussed what these two artists might have created had they lived. Both died quite young, Haring from AIDS, Basquait from a heroin overdose at the age of 27. 

Our number came up and we returned to the entrance of the special exhibition galleries and entered the dark world of El Greco. Biblical scenes abound. In an example of savvy middle ages marketing, the painter would sometimes paint copy after copy of a work to create name recognition and a more affordable, "mass produced" product. Several examples of these are displayed side by side. 

We discussed the wealth of the Catholic church. Many of his works were commissioned for cathedrals, chapels and other religious spaces. He once had a Cardinal as a patron, living in the Cardinal's palace. A Cardinal having a palace itself a comment on religious priorities. 

Before we left we spent a few minutes in the Asian galleries, amazed at the age of the pieces, some over 3000 years old. My museum "eye in the sky" has told me that the museum wants to expand these galleries as there are thousands more pieces in storage. Plans were being worked on for an expansion pre pandemic.

As we returned home, masked and socially distanced on the capacity limited bus, my friend said it had almost, almost, felt like a normal day. 

Coronavirus19 Diary - Moments

There are moments that happen now that restrictions have been lifted some. There is a tiny park across the street from us. Cordoned off for months as it was technically part of the closed down lakefront, it is once again accessible. I sit on a bench in the hot morning sun and gaze out on the lake. The sun sparkles on the small crests of the ripples which move across the water. Lake Michigan changes color. This day it is a light blue, two shades darker than the pale blue sky above. In the distance, on a horizon streaked with clouds so thin they are almost opaque, three sailboats glide by.

Although the beaches are closed there is a spot on the grass overlooking the lake, about a 25 minute walk from our apartment, where people gather, with appropriate social distancing. It feels good to be among people, even though we need to stay a standard 6 feet away from each other.

But today it is hot and humid. It will perhaps be the hottest day so far this year. So I opt for the tiny park, close to home, where I can quickly seek respite when the baking Midwest sun becomes too much to bear.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Anger

It is the anger which disturbs me most. A world wide pandemic, an opportunity for U.S. citizens to band together, to show support and compassion for others even though isolated from one another. A chance for our increasingly online society to use social media to truly connect at a time when we needed to be physically distant.

But there was no calm, reasoned voice. There was no leader to unify us. States were left on their own to attempt to control a virus that does not respect borders. Locked down states fumed at those with more lenient guidelines. Maskers tempers flare when confronted with those that chose not to wear them. Anti maskers deride those wearing them, calling them sheep....or worse. Armed rebels storm state capitols demanding their perceived rights to return to a pre pandemic time, ignoring reality, and by doing so delaying a future return to more normalcy.

Although it has been ascertained that the mass protests, most peaceful, did not contribute to a surge in cases, there to the message was sheathed in anger. End systemic racism and defund the police were shouts heard through out the gatherings. What was missing were detailed, concrete, workable, fair and just proposals to address these, as well as a myriad of other issues which our country needs to confront. Some took advantage of the anger, fueling the violence we witnessed that first weekend. They deface and topple statues and monuments not seeming to understand that you cannot erase history. But, if you care to study, you can learn from it.

There seems to be a lack of interest in history among many of the young people of today. As advances in technology move at an ever faster pace what happened 15 minutes ago becomes irrelevant. The young are justly angry. Saddled with life long student debt, falling financially behind the generation before them they witness the destruction of the society, economy and ecosystem they are inheriting. Yet, in Chicago, the small surge we have seen in  recent days coincides with the reopening of bars. A third of the new cases are identified as young people in a nightlife heavy neighborhood. Fun first, solutions later, if we get around to them.

We are all justifiably angry. Spending weeks confined to our homes and apartments, many of us unable to work, this period was, for many reasons, an opportunity squandered. Instead of embracing and comforting one another we continued to squabble, fight and argue, spurred on by the division sowed in the last few years.

Maybe in the back of my mind, that tiny bit that has not surrendered to cynicism, where the remains of my naivete dwell, the place where you can still find that thing some refer to as idealism, I had hoped for seismic change, perhaps I will have to settle for an incremental one. 










Maybe, in the back of my mind, that tiny bit where my naivete

Coronavirus19 Diary - Hope Springs Eternal (I Hope)

At least in my home state we're coming round the bend. Deaths and infection rates are falling. Unfortunately, due to an  inadequate federal response from the beginning, this slow but steady recovery is not being experienced nationwide. As cases and positivity rates rise we have been banned from much international travel. Our country is viewed, by many, as third world. Run by a mad man, many citizens, once holding on to a semblance of middle class status, sliding into poverty. We have become deeply divided by income and ideology, and, we are equipped with enough weapons to make these divisions deadly. It is almost as if the pandemic has taken the U.S. and shook it out like a rug, racism , hatred and anger falling out from the pile and forming a disheartening medley of debris on the ground. We the people becoming me the people. Division being sowed by the highest levels of our government. During these times, when we should have been united, with compassion for one another, I watch as many attempt to scramble to the top, stepping and crawling over those beneath them. The common decency of wearing a mask  to protect the health of others becoming a political act.

Yet, for all this, the future is not entirely without hope. Science, medicine and time have controlled disease in the past. There is a world wide effort by science and medicine to control, or even defeat this one. And we the people still have the power of the vote, which is now as important as any time in our nation's history. We the people need to step up to the responsibility of this precious and valuable right. We the people need to use it's power to recreate a nation of compassion and equality, making America great again.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Every Day Is Tuesday

I've written before about the difficulty during these times remembering what day of the week it is. I was speaking to a friend who, like me, has been furloughed since mid March, "Every day is Tuesday" she quipped. She returns to an abbreviated schedule this week. I, by contrast, am going on 13 weeks of furlough with no return date announced yet.

Everyday becomes a vessel to fill as best one can. By mid June Chicago temperatures are moderate enough for me to enjoy being outdoors. According to several eye witness reports, although the lakefront is officially closed, there are a number of citizens choosing to ignore that. I may engage in this form of non violent civil disobedience later this week as temperatures are predicted to reach torrid levels.

I have watched mini series and movies. New releases, classics, a few "art house" pieces, plus, I'll admit, my fair share of trash. Our house is pristine, buttons have been sewn back onto the shirts they came from, silver has been polished, in some cases brought back from a near hopeless condition. I have taken bike rides and naps. I had lunch with a friend, a moment of near normalcy.

Generally I am quite efficient. My hectic schedule, in normal times, requires me to be so. In these not so normal times I go to Walgreens, then the cleaners, then walk 9 flights upstairs to our apartment, with gyms closed the fire stairs are my personal stairmaster, them ponder what I can do to kill time until tomorrow.

Coronavirus19 Diary - What Will I Do Today

I am still not called back from furlough. It is now 12 weeks. I wake up each morning and try to figure out what I will do to fill the day. At least at this point we can move about the city a bit more. I get on my bike and head out to a park a couple of miles from my house. Riding is one of the times when I feel most normal. If the lakefront were open I would go to the beach, but, alas, it is not. 

The park is lovely and tranquil. At one end is a venerable high school, built in 1929. There are large expanses of lawn punctuated with tall, old trees. Their wide spreading branches offer areas of shade. Some of the park is given over to patches of recreated prairie, lush profusions of natural grasses and brightly colored, knee high wildflowers behind rough wooden fences with narrow paths running through them. They provide safe habitat for butterflies and a buffet for foraging birds. Found throughout parks in the city they are meticulously created. Sown and burned to recreate nature's cycle of death and renewal, mowed to remove invasive plants and promote indigenous growth. I try to imagine the era before the city when this landscape covered much of the Midwest. A woman in a broad brimmed straw hat wanders through one creating in the distance a scene reminiscent of the wealth of the impressionist artworks housed in the still shuttered Art Institute.

I have a lengthy phone conversation with a friend, also furloughed and awaiting a return to work. We met while working together at a jewelry store a couple of years ago. Children scamper and laugh enjoying the sun. Their innocence charms me. It is warm but a soft breeze keeps the temperature comfortable. A small dog comes up to me deciding that I am a friend. It's mom keeps calling it back. Reluctantly it bids me goodbye and returns to her.

I ride through the park before returning home. On the way back I go through what is, in normal times, a bustling area of restaurants and eclectic shops. Things are slowly returning to their former state. Many of the stores are open. People sit at socially distant tables on the sidewalks outside of restaurants. Indoor dining is still not allowed.

I return home, lock up my bicycle in the garage of my building and try to decide what to do with the remainder of my day. I promised my husband that I would bake cookies, that should kill an hour.

Coronavirus19 Diary - The State of Things

This period has showed us that our republic and economy are fragile things. Our long held national ideal, a strong country, the greatest country in the world as my generation had drilled into their heads, united, our very name, a myth. Interferences in our elections prove we can be attacked from without. Hatred, prejudice and ignorance show we can be attacked from within. It shows that we can destroy ourselves if we allow it.

I don't have answers, I feel powerless. My struggles as a gay man to be accepted and respected by society can be blown apart by a single court decision. A nation can be blown apart by the actions of 4 police officers, those sworn to serve and protect, doing the opposite.

The peaceful protests carry a powerful message of what our country can become. The violent infiltrators amid the protesters and actions by some police forces across the country carry a different message, just as powerful.

I look back over my 6 decades pondering how we got here. How, what is touted as a great economy, in a 10 week period, can be lying, for many of my country men, around their feet in shards. It was a house of cards, only a slight move bringing it down, leaving a quarter without work, many financially devastated. It will take them years to recover, if they are able to recover at all. Issues of racial and financial inequality tear us apart. Yet many follow a leader that can not competently lead, blind to this. Some of these suffer under the inequality yet refuse to acknowledge it. They are told, as many of differing views are, that it is us against them.

We need us to become something that includes all. We need to develop a mutual respect for one another as fellow human beings and national neighbors. We need to remake and repair, form a country that is united.

Coronavirus19 Diary - A House Divided

We watch a murder on national television. A man on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back, a policeman on top of him, his knee on his throat, the cuffed man saying "I can't breathe". Within minutes the man is dead. His crime? Trying to use a counterfeit $20 bill. It is days before the officer responsible is charged and arrested. The officer is white, the victim black.

Protests erupt. In Minneapolis, where the incident occurred, they turn violent. There are fires and looting. The president threatens the looters with deadly force. He threatens to set dogs on the protesters, bringing to mind photos of protesters being attacked by police dogs on a bridge in the deep south 60 years ago. He threatens to order the U.S. military to take up arms against U.S. citizens. Chicago's mayor self censors her comments to the president, but makes her meaning clear. Our governor also takes the president to task for his reckless, divisive and hate filled statements.

Outside agitators integrate themselves into the crowds inciting violence. By Saturday night we watch as riots rage across the country. Reports come in from Chicago, Atlanta, Denver, Washington D.C. and New York. There are buildings and police cars on fire in Philadelphia. A squad car burns on Chicago's iconic State Street. Businesses are being looted in L.A.

A reporter describes tear gas and rubber bullets being used on a peaceful protest in Minneapolis. In Chicago police are thrown to the ground as some in the crowd attempt to pull their Kevlar vests from them. Women, their arms outstretched, form a circle around the officers to protect them. Store windows are smashed, including two flagship stores of the company I work for, one a historic building which is to many synonymous with Chicago. People, seeing an opportunity, pour into the stores grabbing handfuls of goods. Agitators and thugs overwhelm the protesters who were there with a purpose, demanding justice, exercising their right to assembly.

A reporter stands outside a Target store in L.A. as 2 looters walk off with a 60" T.V. A reporter in Chicago is told by the studio to cut her feed and move to a safer location. An overhead shot shows a small crowd in L.A. destroying a nail salon, dragging an ATM outside attempting to break into it. Masks, mandated for safety, provide anonymity. Another reporter stands in a chain drugstore, it's windows gone, cash registers laying in a shambles on the floor, it's pharmacy's prescription medication and liquor departments stripped bare. Chicago's mayor breaks into T.V. programming to denounce the violence and announce a curfew, joining other mayors taking similar actions across the country.

Texts fly back and forth between me, my friends and my coworkers. By late evening a letter from my company's CEO arrives via email letting us know that stores near affected areas have been closed and all colleagues are safe and accounted for. He asks us to make ourselves available to each other for support and bemoans our not to be able to be with one another in person. He speaks with pride about the diversity of our workforce. His words are eloquent and compassionate. It is a moment of grace and calm amid the chaos.

I have witnessed violent confrontations before. I remember watching the Watts riots, taking place a few miles from our home in southern California, on the news while on vacation at my grandparents home in Oklahoma. I pleaded with my parents to stay at my grandparents. I was a small child, I was scared. I remember the Kent State shootings and the Vietnam anti war protests. Yet each of these were isolated incidents during a turbulent time. I don't recall virtually spontaneous, simultaneous protests of this magnitude erupting nationwide.

For years our nation has been divided and torn apart. Our president, aided by his political party, has continually pitted citizens against one another. His words validate the feelings of those who desire violent confrontation to preserve and defend an imaginary vision of what they feel our country should be. The words "one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all" in the present environment have lost their meaning. The country has veered off it's rails and lost it's path. Rhetorical oil, instead of fueling fires, needs to be poured onto the nation's troubled waters. What we are witnessing today is what the beginning of war looks like but it is not too late to turn back.

The wounds are deep, but with care and compassion they can be healed. I hope we can find the will as a nation to do this and make America, with liberty and justice for all people, at all levels of society, great again.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Good News Bad News

This stay at home life does ebb and flow, thought not with the same volume as normal life.

Good news, my state's rate of infection and deaths are appearing to be heading downward. According to the models used by our government 2 weeks ahead of schedule. As of now the state will begin it's next phase of reopening this weekend.

Bad news, Chicago's move into the next phase is still TBD due to the stubbornness of our mayor. This is rather ridiculous. In border areas one side of the street is the city of Chicago, the other side a suburb. So, if you can't get the goods or service you need you will be able to walk to the corner, cross the street and get it there. This is the mayor, by the way, that managed to get a haircut in the midst of the stay at home order which apparently only applied to some of us.....but I digress.

Good news, on several occasions the sun came out and temperatures rose allowing me the opportunity of getting out on my bike. Pedaling around the city is one of the times I feel most normal these days. I found a park, a short ride away, where I can catch rays this summer if our well coiffed mayor will not allow us to utilize the beaches, with appropriate distancing and safety measures of course. She has stated that when the lakefront opens, if it opens, it will be "about movement" which I take to mean that sitting and quietly enjoying the lake will not be allowed. The lakefront we pay for and for tens of thousands of lakefront apartment dwellers is their only convenient outdoor space....but I digress. 

Bad news, my jobs return date is also TBD. My employer wants to open larger, higher volume, although less profitable, stores in the region first. I understand, I owned a business and still retain some of that mindset. Cash flow is more important than profit right now. So, somewhat like a caged animal, I will continue to pace back and forth, waiting.

Good news, our new couch arrives in a matter of days. Purchased in the dead of winter, due to be delivered in mid April, it's delivery date, due to all this mess, was postponed. Our current couch has pretty much had it's day. Visitors, parties and day to day wear, plus a deluge of use these past 10 weeks watching Netflix and on demand movies, has taken it's toll.

So we wait, mask in hand, asking the age old question, "Can I go out and play?"

Coronavirus19 Diary - Reset

Many of us, because of the excess of time on our hands, have seen them, photos of formerly smoggy skies turned clear blue. Pictures of wildlife popping up in places where it either hasn't been seen before or is rarely witnessed. One memorable image was the coyote walking down the middle of a deserted Michigan Ave in Chicago. In terms of birdlife we have experienced it first hand from our 9th floor apartment. We watched as peregrine falcons dove from the ledge of the Jazz Age building across the street from us. Geese, not a rare sight, but usually seen in our area only high above, have flown by our windows. A duck, somewhat unusual in our neighborhood, cruised by at 9th floor level. And there was the tiny sparrow which came to visit us on our balcony a couple of days in a row. As geese and ducks are not usually seen flying so low, the smaller birds are usually not seen that far up. Many have suggested that we have pushed a global reset button.

On a more personal level, my feet have reset. The layers of callused skin built up over the years from walking a sales floor have been pretty much completely worn away over the past weeks. Despite suggestions to the contrary, men's dress shoes,  if you stand in them all day, are not that comfortable. The chronic weariness from working sans vacations, due to future travel plans now canceled, has abated. Although these days the weariness is becoming increasingly replaced by ennui.

Our apartment has also, in a sense, been reset.I always maintain a clean home, but, during these past weeks, I have engaged in what a friend termed "unnaturally through spring cleaning". There had been some projects, neglected due to lack of time, that have now been completed. 

This time has also given me the time to reflect. I realize I crave structure. The structure of work, of a schedule. I am not the type that can sit idle. Formerly I knew that, for the sake of my sanity as well as, to a lesser extent, financial necessity, after retirement I would still hope to work part time. I thrive on human, face to face interaction. I want to experience, to continually learn, to satisfy my personal curiosity.

My mindset, formerly numbed by the routine of a daily routine, has been reset. When a sense of normalcy returns I look forward to exploring the reset world.

Coronavirus19 Diaries - Endgame

After near disastrous appearances on the Sunday morning talking heads shows our Governor , at his daily televised news conference on Monday, well, clarified, his stay at home order. He had been accused of moving the goal posts regarding the time the state would reopen. The way it had been presented the previous week made it sound as if the order would extend into June. Many began to complain about government overreach. I had a personal concern since my employer had, graciously, been paying the premiums for our medical insurance during the time we were furloughed, but only through May. Many were concerned about making their rent or mortgage payments. Some were concerned about paying their property taxes. Food banks were seeing blocks long lines of cars. Monday the Governor suggested, strongly, careful to not make it absolute, that the state would be able to partially open May 29th, sending many, my husband and myself included, back to work, with certain safety measures in place of course.

We were more fortunate than some. However, had the lockdown lasted into June insurance costs could have begun to eat into the the financial reserves I had so painstakingly built over the years. Others lived, as I did throughout much of my life, on a financial knife's edge. People in the hospitality industry are struggling. I would not be surprised if the Governor "clarifies" the opening date for bars and restaurants, with appropriate safety measures in place of course.

As I read comments on articles and Facebook  I am amazed by the people that are predicting the total destruction of civilization post pandemic. They say they, and by extension the rest of society, will never again fly on a plane, go to a restaurant, meet friends for a drink at a bar or enter a theatre. Their lists of what they think people will no longer do go on and on, not verging on, but actually becoming, absurd. Then there are others, becoming more and more vocal as we see the light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, They, like I, still intend to travel, eat out, go to the gym and enjoy theatre and live music. My husband has the attitude that if the others stay home it will just leave more room for the rest of us. My guess is the doomsday prophets were people that never went out that much pre pandemic.

There will be pain. The loss of small, unique businesses, for some a prolonged financial hardship, but eventually, we will return to normal. Thanks Governor for being a little bit clearer about when.

Coronavirus 19 Diary - An Essential Errand

After 3 days of near continuous rain and completely continuous gray skies we woke to bright sun in a clear blue sky and temperatures in the mid 70s. By any standards it was a beautiful day, by Chicago standards in early May it was spectacular.

Our IRS refund check arrived the day the Illinois lock down order went into effect. It had been sitting on the table since then. I decided I could justify riding my bike to the nearest branch on my bike, about 5 miles away, to deposit it and enjoy the rare treat of the lovely mid spring day. As I rode I felt almost normal for the first time in weeks. That is not to say things were normal. Businesses were shuttered, people, including myself, were masked, I was able to make a u turn on the broad street I was riding down, which is so chocked with traffic during normal times that such a maneuver would be impossible.

After contactless banking, putting check and deposit slip into a plastic tube which is then vacuum delivered to the employees inside, my receipt being returned to me in the same manner, I decided to take further advantage of the sunshine.

I rode over to the nearby square and looked at the empty storefront with the For Lease sign in the window that once housed the jewelry store I had worked at for a brief period. I rode past the closed restaurants and bars. I was pleased to see the independent apothecary store was open for orders and curbside pick up. I was glad to see the bookstore, also independent, still there, although closed due to the current crisis. We had once used our windows in the jewelry store to promote it over the global, faceless, menace that is Amazon.

The square is a special place. A charming, old world mix of family owned shops, bars and eateries. A meeting place for the residents of the surrounding area. Although it lacked the crowds of people I had become accustomed to during my employment there that would normally be expected on such a beautiful weekend day there were still a handful on the benches enjoying the sun. I thought back to the weekly concerts held there over the summer featuring local bands of various genres. I remembered the joy and sense of vitality of neighbors dancing, talking, laughing and enjoying life and music together. I wondered if that would happen this summer or if that, like so much else, would be different this year.

I rode past blocks of brownstone apartment buildings interspersed with graceful, yet solid, turn of the century homes along streets whose old trees which shade them were just beginning to return to life. Bright flowers dotted small front yards. Neighbors and friends greeted one another from a social distance, most wearing masks. Children played with siblings in the small yards, gleeful at the opportunity to be able to venture outdoors. I thought of how difficult it must be for them to understand this moment in history.

When a Chicago spring is kind it is special. A promise of what is to come as a reward after a long winter. It is a time of rebirth. Flowers peeking up from the ground, trees sprouting leaves of that special hue of green only seen at this time of year.

Our country, indeed the whole world, has had to reset. As when a computer updates it will take time before the download is complete. But, as with technological updates, I hope that what appears after our screens come back up and we are able to log in again will be better than what we had.

Coronavirus19 Diary - People People

From my kitchen window I can see the train I take to work. There have been times, during the last weeks, when I long to be back on it on my way to my job in the suburbs. I am socially oriented. I have a job that requires this trait. It is difficult for me to not be around others, at work, at the gym, at cultural venues and events. Trips to the grocery store somewhat refresh me allowing me to be, for a brief time, relieved of my isolation. Allow me to be with others.

That being said, being in the retail profession, I have rolled my eyes over the decades more times than I can count. However when people get on my nerves I can vent to a coworker. We roll our eyes in unison as we discuss the actions of rude, clueless or socially clumsy customers. There is a comfort in those moments we share.

I have a concern that these times may make people more dependent on social media. This isolation becoming a permanent fixture in the world. Perhaps the opposite will be true. Perhaps the physical distancing will remind people how interconnected healthy societies need to be.

I am more fortunate then some. I have another person, and a cat, to share with on a day to day basis. I feel for those that live alone. For those who like me crave human interaction. I know there are some that enjoy extended periods of solitude. I am not one of these. I look forward to returning to a world of people.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Random Thoughts on Life and Living

A couple of years ago a man, who I did not know, responded to a comment I made attacking me for my choice and love of an urban lifestyle. He suggested that if society were to fall apart, because of my reliance on advanced civilization and public transportation I would be, and I quote "among the first to die", a statement I found unnecessarily harsh, and, truth be told, somewhat comic. I, in what I admit was a lack of judgement, responded, pointing out that my lifestyle was not for everyone but suited me. He continued in his doomsday attacks predicting my eminent demise until a woman, who I also did not know, came to my defense calling the man, and I quote "a hateful troll", which I also found comic, but in a different way. 

I attempt to understand those that cling to the act of living for the sake of living only. I am not one of these. If the world were to disintegrate into a dystopian Mad Max style wasteland it would be difficult for me to rationalize fighting just to survive. If I cannot experience theater, great art, music or merely the simple pleasure of  lying on a beach listening to the sound of waves lapping at the shore, if my life is not enriching to myself, and ideally to other people I care for or even have a fleeting encounter with, if I cannot laugh or feel joy, it is not life, merely living. 

I see comments as I scroll through articles about the stay at home orders presently in effect where people are willing to quarantine for 12 months, in some cases 18 months, in some cases indefinitely. They react in fear of something they cannot see. They cling to the thought of living, with little regard to life.

I wonder, on occasion, how people under military siege operate. How they find the courage to wake each morning and move through the day. Perhaps it is due to the human capacity for hope. Hope that the next day, next week, next month will be better than the last. That your world, however badly rent apart, will one day begin to mend.

I hold the belief, despite those that tear their emotional hair out on line and in the media, that my world will heal. I will be able to return to my soul enriching urban existence. That we will be allowed to stop marking time sitting at home and return to life.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Abnormal Normal

4 weeks, as of April 15th it had been 4 weeks that we have been "sheltering in place". I have been unemployed a few times in my life. I refer to these periods as being "between jobs". I experience some of the same anxiety now as I did then, not having the knowledge of when or how it will end. When the weather was cooler during those times, as it is now, I did much of what I am doing now. Cleaning, cooking, watching movies (thank God for cable and Netflix). But I was also able to go the gym, go to the Art Institute, travel around the city or ride my bike to while away a bit of time at the Lincoln Park Zoo, one of only 2 free zoos in the U.S.  Today these are not options.

The financial concern of those times, at least for now, is not there. I am furloughed, not laid off. Between my rainy day fund, stimulus checks, tax refund and unemployment we have a revenue stream. Things may be strained as time wears on, at this point noone knows what the future holds.

There are questions.Will the family wedding we were to attend in July still take place, or will it be postponed? When will we be called back to our jobs? Will the calluses built up on the bottom of my feet from standing all day in dress shoes be fully healed by the time I return to work? So many questions.

My husband asked, while watching a Netflix series we are following, how long we had been quarantined. When I replied "4 weeks" he said "I guess that's why this is beginning to feel normal".

Coronavirus19 Diary - Is That All You Got?

As I sit at home waiting out another of the rough patches of life  I think back on what I have been through over the years. It helps to keep me sane.

Coming of age in a fairly conservative suburban area of San Francisco in the 1970's there was the gay bashing, both physical and verbal I suffered through in my teens. There was AIDS in the 80's. A young gay man, I like to brag of being a club kid before the term was coined, living in "gay Mecca", as San Francisco was sometimes referred to in that era, we began to hear of "gay cancer". In those early days an AIDS diagnosis was a 6 month death sentence. We witnessed the deaths of scores, then hundreds, eventually thousands. Today it is a treatable condition. HIV positive people now live complete lives. This took years because research, due to prejudice, was often met by obstacles that sometimes seemed almost insurmountable. With this virus the entire world is working frantically to come up with treatments and vaccines.

Due to a retail business failing caused by gentrification of the neighborhood it was in, an odd irony, there were the 18 months of my adult life lived under the poverty level. I made it through this period, both financially and emotionally, because of my own grit and determination, as well as the occasional largess of friends. 

Later I lost  2 jobs in the space of one year. One due to a booming economy and the city's desire to redevelop the downtown corner where the tux shop I managed was located. The second was due to the economic meltdown after 9/11. 9/11 also brought redevelopment to a halt. For several years the tux shop that had been closed sat empty. The site has since been developed and is now the studio for the Joffery Ballet.

The great recession caused another job loss, that one resulted in a nerve shattering 6 months of unemployment. It also caused a loss in the value of our home, although we were not as hard hit as some.

Today we have some money put away for retirement and equity in our condo. We will most likely be able to live off of our investments  and social security in our "golden years" when we stop working full time, supplemented by part time work to add extra financial security and to keep us from going mad due to inactivity. We live, by the standards of some, frugally. Frugally, however, includes season tickets to Chicago's Goodman theater and a membership to the Art Institute. Then there are the multiple vacations we have taken over the years, including the 9 days in Europe in 2019.

Will it be annoying to wear a mask? Absolutely! Not being able to hug friends will perhaps be the most difficult temporary sacrifice. But I will get through this, even though there may be further sacrifices ahead.

Go ahead life, hit me again. Is that all you got?

Coronavirus19 Diary - Maybe Shelter at Home is Getting to Me

I have way too much time on my hands. This led me to getting into an online argument on Facebook with several people I do not know about the film Brokeback Mountain. I, and at least one other person I do know, as gay men of a certain age, found the film offensive. To me it reverted back to decades of negative depictions of gay men and gay life in Hollywood movies.

After years of work to gain acceptance I get frustrated with the media of today. It appears that gay men are only acceptable to mainstream America if we are clowns. The stereotypical couple on Modern family with it's swishy, overly hysterical gay character, or the over the top drag of RuPaul's Drag Race come immediately to mind. Depictions of  "normal" gay men are difficult to find. Depictions of "normal" gay couples are even more rare. The mentors of a gay life of work and family life, without drag or campy drama, virtually non existent.

I remember the struggle to get where we are, the experiences of coming of age in a time when we had to hide in fear. I sometimes get frustrated with younger gay men who do not seem to have an understanding or respect for what it took to obtain the rights they take for granted.

Perhaps, due to the death toll of AIDS, we lost most of the elders that would normally pass an oral history from one generation to the next. Perhaps the youth of today are too engrossed with what happened 15 minutes ago to look back at the history that brought them to this moment we are in now. Perhaps I just need to lie down and take a nap.

Coronavirus19 Diary - Bandito Style

It is a process when we leave the house, on the rare cases when we leave the house. It is early spring in Chicago. That means changing from the sweat pants or pajamas into long pants, tee shirt, sweatshirt and jacket to dress appropriately for the still mostly cool weather. I shower out of respect for the others I might encounter outside the confines of our home and because, frankly it feels good, both physically and emotionally, a normal activity, as opposed to the abnormality that is our new normal during this time. Then, as I step out the door, I don the final accessory, newly acquired from our neighborhood hardware store, a face mask, making me look as if I am about to engage in either extensive home renovation or a bank robbery.

It feels like a city under siege. The usually busy street is almost devoid of humanity. The few individuals scurrying down the sidewalk bear a wary, often weary look. Many, like I, are wearing face masks. Not for our own protection but for the protection of others.

As I move down the aisles of our neighborhood grocery store I engage in the now familiar 6 foot distance dance. The mask can be difficult to breath through. I speak briefly to the young woman checking me out. I find myself starved for human contact, however fleeting. I return home past the now silent barber shop, usually a busy beehive of activity, closed stores, a  gym, one of a chain, it's doors locked, it's lights out, it's machines idle and thinly staffed restaurants, only take out and delivery available during this odd moment in time. 

As I come through the back door of our building I run into our resident engineer, also wearing a mask. We greet one another and exchange a few words from a safe distance before I head up the stairs to my life for the time being, It's confines being the walls of our apartment, playing out behind our front door.

Coronavirus19 Diary - A Sense of Unity

I wonder what will happen on the other side of this. Will a stronger push be made for single payer health insurance? Millions are filing for unemployment meaning they are losing their employer sponsored health insurance. Many had none to begin with meaning a medical crisis could have them facing financial ruin. I do believe that much of the presently tattered economy will heal but this will take time. Healing could take years for some in our society who, through no fault of their own, live on a financial knife edge. It is heartening to see some high level executives, including the company I work for, forgo compensation to mitigate the adverse economic effects of the rank and file. Will a portion of that corporate largess carry on after this crisis has passed.

Communities are coming together to assist others as well as each other. Congress worked together, almost in unison, to pass a stimulus package, which, although flawed, shows that, faced with a crisis, the parties can work with one another. Will this greater, though not yet whole, spirit of concern, cooperation and compromise continue after we come through this and begin to return to our usual, I don't know if they will ever be normal again, lives?

We are under siege. Like places throughout history that have experienced sieges of a military kind we will go out, access the damage and work to rebuild and restore what needs to be rebuilt and restored. We need to keep the spirit of cooperation and unity alive. After the crisis has passed we need to unite to repair and restore as we have united to get us through this period.

Coronavirus19 Diary - The Luxury of Time

The luxury of time. When I am working I yearn for it. Now that I am furloughed I have an excess of it. I struggle to fill it, as opposed to my usual life when I struggle to find it. Now I drag tasks out instead of completing them as quickly and efficiently as possible. I stay up later than usual, wake up later than usual, savoring it, knowing that at some point I will once again have to wake up when the sky is still dark. In my usual life I am in suits and ties 5 days a week. Now I dress in pajamas, or track pants or gym shorts when I leave the apartment to go to the grocery store, do laundry or run up and down the fire stairs in our building, trying to keep as fit as possible while gyms are closed. I take on tasks I had put off because I lacked time. I still have other tasks planned before I return to work, because, right now, I have time.

Coronavirus19 Diary - A Beginning a Middle and an End

Earlier this week one of the talking heads on a news show described this pandemic as having "a beginning, a middle and an end". Somehow this helped.

Man is a social animal. Early on in our history this was necessary. There was safety in numbers. We, working together, could take down larger prey, gather more, not to mention that it takes 2 to mate and rearing and protecting young is easier in a group.

But now our social groups are stressed, modified. They exist online or on our phones. The face to face, the hugs, the incidental human contact are, for this moment in time, put on hold. The thought of an end when we are in the social isolation of the moment gives me solace, helps me see the light at the end of this tunnel.

Coronavirus19 Diary - A Trip to a Grocery Store

It is becoming surreal. Being in retail I sometimes forget what day of the week it is. Now I truly forget what day of the week it is. I keep track by my phone and laptop. I check in for news from my employer, it is scant. The governor has issued a stay at home mandate extending a week longer than I or my employer anticipated. It is too cool for walks. A trip to the local grocery store reminds me of propaganda photos from the 1970s of Soviet shops with empty and half filled shelves.

We are more fortunate than some. We have a balcony to step out on for fresh air. I'm getting paid for at least a portion of this time away from work. I use the service stairs for exercise. We have managed our finances well over the years and no longer live paycheck to paycheck.

3 weeks is a blip in my life. A moment really. By late afternoon the sun comes out breaking through the gray skies of the past few days. It feels like a soft kiss, a sweet promise.

This transcends nations. This has no borders, even as we rush to secure them. This is shared by all humanity. As is being said, "We all are in this together".

Coronavirus19 Diary - 3/19/20 - Attacking Home Improvement Projects

Cloudy, rainy, my husband has to have emergency dental surgery due to pain. The t.v. news is exhausting.

I am dying for exercise. Since I have a load of laundry to do anyway I decide to use the stairs instead of the elevator. We live on the 9th floor, the laundry room is on the 1st. 9 floors down, 9 floors up, repeat 3 times, twice carrying laundry. It helped. I may do it several times over the next days.

Quite some time ago one of my husbands clients gave us a cache of quite tarnished silver plate dishes. 2 sizes of parfait cups, sherbet cups, small liqueur cups. We have never had the time to restore it to it's original splendor. Now seems the perfect opportunity. From under the black patina gleaming metal appears, although it takes 3, sometimes 4, go arounds before the transformation is complete.

The furniture store calls to schedule the delivery of our new sofa. I explain our situation and that I can't schedule anything until, once again, I have full contact with my employer. I quip that "When this is over we will know what everyone's real hair color is." She quips back "And what their eyebrows truly look like." My husband adds later "Then there are those women with the nails" fluttering his fingers.

I look at the calendar and realize how many days I have before I return to work. I learn I will receive pay for 3/4 of my normal working hours, better than nothing at all. When you come right down to it where am I going to spend it right now anyway.

Coronavirus19 Diary - 3/18/20 - Rainy days and Wednesdays

God has an odd sense of humor. I am attempting to maintain a sense of normalcy. So, suffering from cabin fever I showered, dressed and went downstairs to take a short walk, we are allowed to do that as long as a certain distance from others is maintained, and was met with the beginning of a rain that would continue for the remainder of the day. The light, misty type of rain that envelopes you leaving you, oddly, as drenched as a cloudburst. Still, I stood out in the air under the canopy that covers the carriage entrance in the front of our building, watching the scant foot and auto traffic pass by.

I collected our mail on my way upstairs. Our income tax return check had arrived. It will be a while before we will be able to put it in the bank. I nap, watch t.v., make banana bread to use up some overripe fruit. I make certain I eat and consume an adequate number of calories and drink enough liquid. With out a life rhythm you can fall into ennui, where the normal functions of existence come through your mind and then pass out again without being acted on.

My husband texts me letting me know that the beauty salon he works at voted to shut down until April 1st. It feels as if it is January with 20 degrees below zero wind chills and 4 feet of snow outside. 

Netflix may become my best friend.

Coronavirus19 Diary - 3/17/2020 - Leaving Work

It started in China, moved to Europe and, in short order, arrived on the U.S. shore. We learned a new term "social distancing". Life started to change. Companies had those that could work from home. Bars, restaurants, some retailers and fitness centers started to close or greatly curtail their business hours. People were requested to stay home. The stock market fell, then rose, then fell again becoming an economic roller coaster.

I work in fine jewelry for a venerable, legendary, well known and respected department store. Out of concern for the health and safety of their employees, and after several days of almost non-existent foot traffic, somewhat heartening, it mean't many were taking the suggestion to avoid contact with others seriously, my employer made the decision to place us on a 2 week paid furlough. We spent much of our final work day securing everything of high value. Jewelry, designer handbags and sunglasses, It left many cases bare. The effect was eerie and somewhat melancholy.

Our store is one of the smaller ones in the chain. Our staff is less than 100 people. We spend a great deal of time together. The word "family" is often used when referring to the store staff. An illness or death in a coworkers family is a sorrow shared by all. A birth or the antics of a small child is a joy similarly shared. We know the names of spouses, children and even pets. We celebrate and commiserate as one does with others one cares about. We vent about one another as family members do.

On the last day we shared plans and projects for the next 2 weeks. We bid one another goodbye. We could not hug one another. Our departure, like the physical store, had a melancholy air. 

Austria and Prague 2019 - Final Thoughts

Neither I nor my husband had visited these three cities before. It was unexplored territory for both of us.

Vienna awed us with it's architecture, confused us with it's maze of streets and plazas and delighted us with it's pastries. Yet, for all this, it is a big city and like many big cities it feels somewhat gritty, it's people pleasant but with an undertone of coldness and reserve.

Salzburg is lovely and charming, almost perky. It is touristy because it deserves to be. It reminded me of one of those rare people, beautiful and gracious, seemingly unaware of their attractiveness. It seemed to say "Oh, I guess I'm pretty, I don't think about it much" before asking you to stay for dinner. The wonderful people we met there seem to know that they reside in a very special place, appreciate it and enjoy sharing it with others.

Prague is, in a word, awesome. The locals we talked to were generally wonderful and welcoming. Many of the men possess what I began to call the Prague swagger. They walk down the street, arms and legs held slightly out, shoulders moving up and down as they make their way through the city. It was accentuated by the tight tee shirts and jeans worn by most on account of the warm weather of the early fall. The city is vast, with over one million residents. I know there is more to it then the small morsel we saw, but that morsel was enough to leave us with pleasant memories that will be with us as long as memory holds.

Although it is always wonderful to be home, it is after all home, my anchor, my personal space in the world, I love seeking out and experiencing other places, cultures, histories and people. Occasionally I get melancholy about the state of our country. I see the windmills and solar panels which abound in Europe and compare this to the U.S. practice of fracking, with all the environmental degradation that goes with it. Going to almost absurd lengths to extract a non renewable fuel that is quickly becoming obsolete in much of the rest of the world. I see, despite the personal difficulty we experienced, an efficient and affordable rail system, as well as urban public transit that would put U.S. cities to shame. Happily, Chicago is an exception to this. I see health care and educational opportunities available to everyone regardless of income level, class or birthright. I hope one day the U.S. will once again become a welcome neighbor to the world, willing to face it's faults, embrace that which is beautiful about us and show compassion for the world and each other. Occasionally I meet 4 young people from Washington state and I have hope.