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.
Tuesday, June 16, 2020
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
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.
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.
Friday, June 5, 2020
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.
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.
Sunday, May 31, 2020
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.
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.
Thursday, May 28, 2020
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?"
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?"
Tuesday, May 19, 2020
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
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.
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.
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