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.