December 30, 2020

December 30, 2020 

As the year winds down this is usually a time I look over the past year and set some goals for the coming new year. But this year is different. I already did a postmortem on 2020 back in June when it was clear the pandemic made most of my goals impossible. Travel, dinner parties, and museum visits were on indefinite hold. 

Looking forward, even with the optimism of a vaccine in distribution and a regime change in Washington, it’s still hard to pick some goals/activities I’d like to accomplish next year. Even the seemingly easy ones like “read X number of books” is hard since I couldn’t even get motivated enough to read all that much last year. 

Perhaps I’ll revisit this in January. In the meantime I’ll try to come up with something concrete and doable - see my friends again, host a dinner party, take a trip somewhere - I’d love to do those, but I need something to focus on till they can occupy my to-do list.

November 18, 2020

November 18, 2020 

Memento Vivere - Remember you must live. I just discovered this counterpart to the all familiar Memento Mori - remember you must die. The later A common phrase seen on grave stones and numerous other funerary artifacts. It is the stark reminder of our mortality, that our days are limited, and we all ultimately have an expiration date. 

At the surface Memento mori flirts with nihilism - nothing matters, for we will all die and all our accomplishments will eventually vanish into the heat-death of the universe. But dig deeper and you hit the crux of existential meaning: life is fleeting, every decision is important by virtue of the fact that we can only make them once. Our solitary life is all we have, so make the best of it. 

But memento vivere speaks to me it’s a more direct affirmation - particularly now in these pandemic times when it seems most of our lives are dedicated simply to survival. Shelter in place, avoid other people, stock up on supplies, and devise strategies to defend yourself against disease and political unrest. 

Personally, I need this motto now - Remember to live. Confronted with my own mortality I feel myself getting older, being less active, less motivated. Each doctor visit brings me a new procedure, a new drug, a higher dosage, not to mention follow-up appointments to perpetuate the cycle. My brain is often stuck in survival mode, on autopilot, failing even to recognize this mid-life cliché. 

Now, more than ever, it seems important to remind myself to live, to find pleasure in my experiences, indulge my curiosity, and not just perform the same routines, habits, and rituals - avoiding death - Memento Mori. 

As a self proclaimed hedonist, it seems the counterpart makes for a better mantra - Remember you must live - Memento Vivere.

November 7, 2020

November 7, 2020 

I don’t recall having such a sustained feeling of optimism- I mean, perhaps before the pandemic? But I think earlier still - like 4 years ago on the night before Election Day when we (thought) we were about to elect the first woman President. Since then it’s been a long March through kübler Ross to get to this tenuous and uncomfortable acceptance. 

I wonder now, how the Trump supporters will navigate their own Kübler Ross journey. At the moment denial is strong. Mostly I fear for when they enter their anger phase - especially the heavily armed ones who also might turn those weapons on themselves as the depression sets in. Meanwhile among the more seasoned members of the GOP, it seems many have already entered into the bargaining phase. 

I wonder of course when or if we can get to a point of acceptance of each other - to see ourselves as we truly are, with all our flaws and not the heroic or demonic pictures we’ve painted. Biden probably is best suited for that task (honestly, I have to check my own desire for vengeance and purges). He’ll be viewed by some as a Corporate tool, a pawn of Capitalism, as well a revolutionary socialist by others. There are many wounds that need to heal, some reaching back centuries. 

It’s still months away till Inauguration Day, much to process, plan, and prepare - but today it seems doable in a way it didn’t before.

November 5, 2020

November 5, 2020 

Here we are, in the midst of Schroedinger’s election - the votes all cast and yet there is no “winner” until they are all counted. Sitting in this no-mans-land, this purgatory, this liminal space I am both anxious and hopeful. Grateful that we haven’t seen violence here, but apprehensive about it’s coming. 

I’m grateful to be in California, in some ways it’s own nation state that aligns more to my own personal politics. I’m also grateful for friends in other states who are doing their best to taint them blue. I wonder about my foreign friends and relatives, reluctant to visit the states these last 4 years even before the pandemic shut down international travel. 

The wait is frustrating, but it also puts us in a sort of suspended animation. We’re paused, the campaigning is over, and the results? They will come, they will be disputed, recounted, and ultimately confirmed or rejected. 

In the meantime, I’ll go to work, walk the dogs, and scroll through my feeds. I could probably make better use of this time, this moment of pause at the brink of uncertainty. Then again, maybe this is just a moment to savor, to take a breath, to be without a long-term goal, a long exhale, to reflect and prepare. It will not last. 

October 30, 2020

October 30, 2020 

Fucking Beethoven. 

Music can be a gut punch. A swell of emotion that shatters you and leaves you bawling uncontrollably as you try to make sense of the feelings you’ve been suppressing for so long. My glasses filthy from my tears of hope, fear, joy, despair... 

One moment, in a restaurant - celebrating - of all things Oktoberfest - on the night before Halloween - the full moon - the blue moon - and that last weekend before the election. Our friends two tables back, both acknowledged and missed as we recounted all the friends we haven’t seen or touched in so long. 

Then, getting into the car and there was the Ninth. The 4th Movement. The Ode to Joy. Only this was the alternate version, the Ode to “Freedom” - the version that swaps out “freude ” for “freiheit” the version conceived for the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification. The true end of the war. A point almost equidistant from the fall of Nazism and now. 

I sang and Lisa drove, I sang until I started weeping. Beethoven. Fucking Beethoven. The Ninth - the CD we bought before we had a CD player because this was the song we wanted to first hear in its digital perfection. The hope for a future full of progress - of pristine music if nothing else (jet packs anyone?). I wept. I wept until I was empty. I miss so many people, living and dead. 

I still want to unlock and cling to this joy, this optimism for the future - but I’ll suck it back up for now. Dry the tears and clean my glasses. Pour a glass and wait. 

Freude

October 29, 2020

October 29, 2020 

5 days to the election. Within a week it seems that things may finally change - but honesty we know that’s unlikely. Election day will only mark the beginning of the next round of conflict that will likely bleed into January if not later. 

I voted already. This year filled with the angst of making sure my vote would count. Distrust of the mail, a desire to vote in person, but Covid, but lines, but the fear of armed militias roaming the streets. I opted for a drop box - deciding on one by the Blue Line, where there is a manned police substation - presumably a deterrent to tampering, arson, or bombs. Still, I tracked my ballot like an Amazon package, anxiously checking the website until my ballot showed up and accepted at the registrar. 

I can’t remember an election more fraught - though 4 years ago I also opted for a drop box. This year though - conversations of should we own firearms? how much and what should we stock up on? do we need to keep some plywood at hand to board up windows? 

At night we’ve been catching up watching the Mandalorian - a fun romp, but a story that advances each episode with new enemies to kill, or surviving attempts to be killed - is it any wonder that that has become our go-to for conflict resolution? Friday a new episode of The Great British Bake Off drops, and I look forward to watching a competition in which everyone is sad when someone’s batter doesn’t properly rise. I need more models like this, where everyone aspires to be good and no one ever says, “I didn’t come here to make friends.” 

Most of the things we worry about never come to pass - I hope this remains true.

September 23, 2020

September 23, 2020 

We went out to dinner tonight. It wasn’t part of our plan. I mean, we might have hit a drive-thru on our way home - but this... 

And we shouldn’t have - for all the reasons: Covid, we’d already spent our food budget for the month, meals ready for us to make waiting at home. But glancing at our phones, seeing the latest, the GOP reluctance to support the concept of a peaceful transition of government? 

It seems pretty clear that there probably won’t be take-out during the coup. 

We enjoyed the new restaurant - outdoors and socially distanced. Ordered appetizers as well as desert, enjoying each bite as if it might be our last, as November will be here in a blink of the eye.

September 22, 2020

Autumn 

The first day of Fall 

Transition of the seasons 

The Equinox – when Night and Day 

Light and Dark are balanced 

There is the cycle 

There is the timeline 

One repeats 

One never looks back 

For the moment 

Mars rules the night 

Venus the morning 

Neither cares 

My days seem to repeat 

An endless monotony 

Of work, laundry, dishes 

And projects left undone 

There’s comfort in the structure 

But I’ve read enough Foucault 

The cycle is endless 

My timeline is not 

We dance 

Swaying forward and back 

The orbit contains our momentum 

Filling space with movement 

The direction doesn’t matter 

But that we choose it, does 

So once again I ask myself, 

Where do I go from here?

September 20, 2020

September 20, 2020 

I’m one who believed that Ruth Bader Ginsberg was one of our last remaining breaks to keep our nation from slipping into fascism so my emotions this weekend are of grief. I grieve for RBG, but also for a nation that I used to believe took the moral high ground (yes still reconciling with my idealized and propagandize education). It’s a loss of innocence , that we would all act in a way to uphold a moral right, that we are all inherently good. 

 I know that’s strange coming from someone who’s a quite a bit of a moral relativist, but I struggle all the time with “what is the right thing to do?” mostly I side with the existentialists, that we must create our own set of meaning and values for ourselves. I confess, occasionally I have been seduced by Nietzsche and the will to power. I see that explicitly expressed in the current administration despite it cloaking itself in Christian sackcloth. That hypocrisy troubles me. It’s inauthentic to the core Personally though, i feel both soiled and foolish for being duped - presuming that there still might be those who valued integrity. 

The social contract can only work if we all keep our word. It’s the only way to “win”’the prisoner's dilemma as an environment of distrust condemns us all. If the morality of this nation is to be the will of the strong, then we must be stronger. More so, we must also be merciless those currently in power as they’ve proven their unreliability. 

 I hope I am wrong in my pessimism and that we can somehow return to our ideals, that we can look at one another in good faith, that we are working for a common good. But I fear greater conflict is coming before we can have a conversation again.

September 16, 2020

September 16, 2020 

The days all blend as they are subsumed by routine. 

6AM - the alarm first goes off, if I got up now I could get all my morning tasks easily done before work - maybe even claim some time to read or journal 

6:45 is when I usually climb out of bed, take a few moments to fumble for my glasses and cell phone - a “quick” glance at Instagram and Facebook (if nothing major or click-provoking has happened and off to the bathroom where I take a much longer shower than I need to, prefaced with some stretches my doctors recommend. 

7:30 is usually when I emerge, get dressed, take my drugs, take another glance at the phone while I set up a podcast for a dog walk. 

8:00 is when my work day is supposed to start but I’m usually just finishing up my walk. If I was mindful the night before coffee will be ready, otherwise I prepare the pot and feed the dogs and cats. 

Somewhere between 8:15 and 8:30 is when I officially “clock in” top off my coffee and head to the office for work. I easily spend my first 30 minutes staring at my email and calendar to mentally plan my day before jotting some notes. Sometimes I’ll steal 20 minutes to update my journal - more if my phone prompts a distraction. 

Noon is when I try to break for lunch. Lately it’s tossing a salad kit from Trader Joe’s, and sitting with Lisa and the pugs for awhile. Officially my lunch is supposed to take 30 minutes but I like to take an hour and just bump my quitting time back another 30 minutes. I’d like to take a walk during this time, maybe read a chapter in a book, but this hour slips quickly by and soon it is over. 

1:00 and I’m back to work. This is usually my productive time (I am not a morning person) I try to schedule most of my meetings in the afternoon for that reason and otherwise makeup for time I’ve wasted in the morning. 

5PM is when I should call it a day, but because of my late start it’s usually 5:30 before I “clock out.” 

5:30 is “peanut happy hour” - we’ll break for a cocktail, sit in our backyard, and feed the scrub jays peanuts - or we used to - the pugs have discovered that peanuts make great treats, so we crack nuts for them - or they’ll forage what we left out for the birds in the morning. It’s still Summer so the sun is up until 7:00, so we’ll usually have another cocktail or two before sunset. 

7:30 and I’m usually in the kitchen, feeding the dogs and cats before I prep our dinner - lately a kit from Sun Basket, but when we have extra cocktails it may be retrieving the delivery from the front porch, phoning in for pizza, ramen, or tacos. 

8:30 - 9:00 and we’ve wrapped up dinner. I’ll take some time to do the dishes, and if I remember prep some coffee for the next day. I might squeeze in a random chore, put some laundry away, take out some trash - but mostly these things are saved for the weekend. 

9:30 and it’s the late night dog walk. I’ll listen to a podcast, catch some Pokémon and if I’m lucky, take a moment to note the position of the planet planets, or the phase of moon. 

10:00 and it’s really too late to start anything. Maybe we’ll watch an episode of something? We started the Mandalorian recently, but mostly it’s back to the phones and Instagram or Facebook. I might try to read an ebook chapter, or compose another diary entry. Lately there is a lot of eye rolling over the latest political blunder or shared sighs of exasperation at the current disaster, death toll, or ignorant remark. 

11:30 and it’s time for bed, though sometime we’ll linger beyond midnight if something caught our attention or we just can’t sleep. 

This is how most days play out with slight variation. The day is filled and yet so empty. There were similar routines before, they emerge so easily. Most of my aspirations await the weekend, when everything is disrupted - including my plans. I know everyone else has their routines, and honestly I’d like to hear about them, how everyone else cycles through the day finding both comfort and restriction in their rhythms. Sunrise sunset.

September 15, 2020

September 15, 2020 

In my dog walk tonight, I looked up an easily saw Jupiter in the night sky. It has been days since I’ve seen anything but smoke and a cherry red sun. More than that, the smoke and ash did a number on my sinuses, sneezing, coughing, eyes watering - allergies or Covid? 

 In these times you can’t take chances. To be sick is one thing, to get others sick something else - despite the certainty of the fires and their effect on the air, I stayed home to wait it out. Tonight though, seeing Jupiter, planet of luck and abundance I felt the tides have shifted for me. 

 Of course, seeing Jove - I knew Saturn was also nearby and I could also make out that faint dot - Saturn/Cronus, father of the Gods who consumed them as they were born, yet also a planet signifying wealth if not cruelty. Perhaps this is a time of cruel abundance, profit to be made from misfortune - or acts of cruelty to be perpetrated in response to our fears. I am happy to see the planets again, but I worry about what might be next on the horizon.

September 11, 2020

September 11, 2020 

I took my car in for service today. A couple weeks ago when I was moving my car to avoid a street sweeping ticket - the only reason I get in my car these days - I got the “service due” message. This week, the message read “service overdue” so I made the appointment. 

It’s wild that a thing once so much a part of my daily life has transformed itself into a minor nuisance. I spend hundreds of dollars each month to maintain it, and for months all I do is move it back and forth across the street. For a while I did load up the trunk with old printers, batteries, and other eWaste but I finally dumped that stuff. 

Perhaps some day I’ll commute again? 

But seriously, I’m still on the same tank of gas I had in March, before the pandemic struck. I haven’t washed the car because - well, I haven’t needed any gas. Besides that, with the fire it’s getting wrapped in a thickening blanket of ash. It reminds me of how ancient cities eventually disappear under the steady accumulation of dust. My car slowly becoming part of antiquity - an artifact of different times.

September 8, 2020

September 8, 2020 

Yellow skies again 

Fires still burning 

While snow starts to fall 

Labor Day turns back to a day of labor and I pretend to work gazing into my unopened emails. There are meetings - and I take illegible notes that I’ll decipher over tomorrow’s coffee. My to-do list grows. 

I think about sending notes to my friends, to let them know I’m still thinking of them - I fear we are growing ap I don’t want too get used to this but I fear I am. New routines and rhythms have already been adopted - I need to make sure they include the the things I keep overlooking. 

Slowly I am making progress. I’m a patient man but my impatience wares on me - so I look for the small victories I can celebrate everyday. There will always be more I could have done, but to do something, anything to move me forward needs to be acknowledged. Progress can happen, like the wildflowers growing in the garden - unnoticed till they all start to bloom. The roots are taking hold

September 7, 2020

September 7, 2020 

Woke up this morning to yellow skies. The heatwave has broken and a breeze has set in, but along with the comfort of cooler temps it has also brought the ash and soot or neighboring wild fires. I had thought this might be a day I could sit outdoors again, but instead it’s just another version of apocalypse. 

A quiet day for me, a chance to read some more, catch up on podcasts - but the fires are still burning and threaten people we know, so we keep refreshing the feeds, hoping for containment, or more encouraging news. But like everything else, we can only wait.

September 7, 2020

September 7, 2020 

1AM - just back from a dog walk. Finally temps below 80 so the pugs can take it. Now home, settled in after some treats and they’re ready to call it a day. 

I finished another book today - the Plague, which I started before at the beginning of the pandemic. Part of me Wants to say that now that I finally finished, the pandemic itself can come to an end. The book itself is uncannily timely and the observations spot on from how people react to their personal evolutions through fear, fatigue, and desire. I can only imagine how our own aftermaths will unfold from adulation to a continuing grief. We’ll all be marked for certain. 

Meanwhile as we sheltered in AC to avoid the 105+ temps outside, I took on the task of trying to recreate a cocktail of bourbon, pomegranate, and lemon - delightfully fresh aperitif with a velvety finish - I think I’ve got close, so another win for the day. 

I’ve been making a conscious effort to focus on what I accomplish each day, before I take a look at the unchecked items of my to-do list. When I start there, I feel like Sisyphus watching the rock roll down the hill and feel either resentment or despair - or both. I wonder if I’ve passed my point of wallowing, now that I seem to be getting a few things done - or I’ve just adjusted my expectations to reflect what I really can do? Regardless, I’m feeling better at the moment - so I’ll take that while it lasts.

September 5, 2020

September 5, 2020 

Hot day and supposed to be hotter tomorrow - and yet I was surprisingly productive. Perhaps it was knowing it would be way to hot to do any of the garden tasks on my to do list, but I took advantage of our AC and took on our laundry room pantry which has been accumulating clutter since well before Covid. I’ve also joined a friend’s “Fly Lady” inspired Facebook group and accepted the fact that our housekeeper may never return. 

One of our friends is also spending the weekend with us, no AC of his own and living inland the heat is much more brutal. Unfortunately, I fear my clutter project has made me a poor host. Through we agreed in advance that we would all have our projects to work on, we haven’t seen our friend in months. Fortunately the bulk of my project is done so we can take a little more time for conversation for the rest of the long weekend. 

I suppose this all increases our exposure risk, but that ship has sailed as we occupy the same interior space and hold up together in our air conditioned home - we’re not going anywhere else.

September 2, 2020

September 2, 2020 

Last night we were finally going to start the mandalorian and take advantage of our Disney+ subscription, but we realized we hadn’t seen episode 9 yet, so watched that instead. 

We’ve been going to bed to Audiobooks of Norse and Greek myths so this fit right in in a Bruno Bettelheim way. I was struck by how heavy handed the good versus evil narrative of the Star Wars universe is. Whereas in mythology the gods are fickle, capricious, deeply flawed self serving agents who live in a world beyond good and evil, in Star Wars, the villains are creatures of pure evil only dwelling in fear, hate, and occasional performative acts of loyalty. Thankfully the “good” in this narrative at least display human flaws (if only to underscore that is an essential part of being “good,” 

I find evil villains of this sort perplexing - I mean, say they “win” and have ultimate world/galaxy/universe domination - what do they do in the following day? Have a beer? Hang out with friends? Yell at the neighbor kids? - All things they could do regardless . I suppose one could invoke the will to power as a driving motivation, the desire to dominate, to be alpha prime - but isn’t that another form of inauthentic living? After fighting to have to have power, you then are forced to spend your remaining days being paranoid about loosing it, until one way or another - the heat death of The universe - you ultimately do. I guess you get to make people suffer along the way to force them to acknowledge your power, but isn’t that then a weakness? A strength only possessed when witnessed by all of humanity? I dunno, perhaps Palpatine would have had a more satisfying life experiencing existential dread instead of the force.

August 31, 2020

August 31, 2020 

End of the month, unofficial end of Summer as Lisa started her first day of class today. Now we have to find another new rhythm as we both have 8:00 start times. First on the agenda, reset the coffee maker to have the pot ready we’ll before 8:00. 

We ended the month joining friends for a birthday dinner in LA. We drove through downtown with ease, and I felt a little pang, missing the days when I’d walk among the buildings for food, drink, and art. Museums have yet to reopen, though i suppose street art still flourishes - but I haven’t sought that out. 

It seems things are getting started, school, the upcoming election. Showdowns are looming as we wonder, will the violence continue, will the virus spring back with colder weather? Many have already written off 2020, but we are only two-thirds through it. 

I finished a book today. My first since Covid, and one that hopefully breaks this chain. I read the Philosopher Queens, an awesome collection of short biographies and overviews of 20 female philosophers from antiquity to present. A great read, and a book destined to reside in my desktop instead of bookshelf as it presents a sort of amuse bouche of each thinker, but includes an appendix listing primary and secondary sources for each, along with a list of dozens of other women philosophers not included in the text (volume II?). I should mention I was also a contributor to this project, so perhaps have a little bias. Honestly though, I received my BA in philosophy in 1984 without studying a single female philosopher - that is a tragic gap I’m still trying to fill. The book inspired me to add Angela Davis to my list, seems appropriate for these times - four months left of 2020.

August 27, 2020

August 27, 2020 

It’s been awhile. I want to say it’s because the days blend into an indistinguishable monotony, each day no different than the next. But that isn’t true. As I look back there were significant moments, that stand out in my mind. The problem is owning them as they mark moments of erosion to my own intentions. 

Covid still rages, the numbers keep climbing, and yet I’ve gone out, had dinner outdoors, had my hair cut in a parking lot, and gone on trips with people from other households. Perhaps enough time has passed that I can say these things with the arrogant smirk of “see we’re all still okay.” But I still think of those things and wonder if I should have - those moments of unplanned interactions with strangers when I said to myself - well I’ve already gone this far. 

It’s a weird sort of guilt, these pandemic secrets where we’ve broken our quarantine, survived, and justify it retroactively - if only to ourselves. These stolen pleasures fraught with anxiety that prevent us from fully indulging ourselves in them. 

So here I am, still waiting things out, still working from home and occasionally breaking the monotony in secret stolen moments that I’m still not ready to fully confess.

July 17, 2020

July 17, 2020 

Today is Disneyland’s 65th Birthday. It’s closed today and I’m thankful for that. At the end of last year after being away from the park for so long, I made going to Disneyland today one of my resolutions. Of course at the time I made that pledge, I was thinking back some 15 and longer years ago when we got annual passes and started to meet other pass holders and cast members on message boards. Before long, Disneyland became the center of my social life, visiting weekly, meeting up with an ever growing diverse group of friends, many of whom I continue to be close to. 

I miss those days and so hoped I could capture a bit of that nostalgia and magic if I were to return today. But things changed. For a moment it looked like this might be the day Disneyland reopened, and I thought about going - not for the nostalgia, but rather as a check box, to be able to say I was there and to report on what would be a much darker version than of my original imagination. I would have gone, just to leave and be able to talk about it. So I’m glad I didn’t have to do that and I can wait another 5 or 10 years till I feel compelled again. 

I still miss the people, the friends who would have spent the day with me. We still are in touch through Facebook, zoom, and sometimes even that antiquated message board we put up when we realized as much as Disneyland was the thing that brought us together, we had far more interesting things to share. I wish I could be getting together in person with those people, share a drink in the hotel bar, stand in line for a ride, or spend an hour outside a restroom trying to decide on the next thing to do. It’s the company I miss, and it’s hard not to feel that when such a marker hits.

July 9, 2020

July 9, 2020 

Skin hunger - could there be a more poetic term? I’ve seen it used in reference to social distancing and how we’ve all been avoiding touch. No hugs, no handshakes - and while we can see each other in chat screens, or masked at 6 feet, contact continues to be avoided, shopping left on the porch, or placed in your car by someone gloved. Skin hunger - the longing for touch. 

I’m lucky, I’ve got Lisa, and while she may be doing overnights at the moment I see her everyday and get those moments of touch - the hug and kiss before she leaves, but also that causal incidental touch of passing objects between us, moving between narrow doorways, or just the simple lean. I’ve also become acutely aware of how our pets also crave contact, the dogs press into me every chance they get, and honestly I’ve never appreciated it as much as I have now. Friends, I’ve only seen and heard. Strangers - on rare occasion, by accident - hand brushing against hand as I pass on my card for what should have been a contactless transaction. A blush, a recoil, an apologetic glance. But there is also a longing for that shoulder tap to get your attention, the press of hand to interrupt your motion, or that kick under the table to stop you from telling that story again. 

Most of us are visual, fewer aural, and an even a smaller portion of us tactile in the way we primarily engage the world. Still, we rely on all our senses and are now realizing how important yet subtle we use touch to engage the world and navigate our relationships. Skin hunger, when will we feed that again?

July 3, 2020

July 3, 2020 

Up late making potato salad for tomorrow’s social distancing BBQ - my mom’s recipe, so halfway through I had to pull out one of my mom’s wine glasses and give myself a generous pour from the box. Cheers mom, I wish you were here - but then again the way things have evolved recently you’d be reliving your wartime memories, so perhaps it is best that you now Rest In Peace - just know there are still moments that you’re here with me. 

With Lisa doing overnights I’m living a weird double life. She leaves at Nine at I suddenly have a burst of productivity, doing those chores I’ve been avoiding all day, dishes, laundry, etc. But lately I’ve also been falling down the Sound Cloud rabbit hole. It usually starts with an Instagram post from some random person I follow in France, Belgium, or Japan - some musical link that catches my ear, that I’ll Shazam or look up and follow a trail - the genres are not limited so I’m listening to Eurorap with Billie Brelok, New French pop with SuperBravo, or contemporary punk with Lungbutter. Regardless, I can’t seem to get enough new music, and so I find myself drifting into the next day with absolutely no regrets. 

We’ve been relaxing our quarantine lately, we’ve eaten out now in a couple places even while it seems that option will be restricted once again - and honestly probably should. Still I’m missing the brunches and dinner parties we used to have and that play of group Solidarity mixed with intimate tête-à-têtes. Tomorrow we’ll spend the afternoon with some friends and neighbors - cocktails, BBQ, conversation - to fill some of that gap.

June 22, 2020

June 22, 2020 

Got back my test results, and despite managing to stay on the right side of borderline, my blood sugar finally crossed over into diabetic territory - so off to find some ways to get some more steps in and avoid the lure of the carbs. 

I also confirmed that that weird flu I had at the end of February, was in fact just a weird flu and not a mild case of the Covid. So no immunity (not that a positive antibody test can assure that yet) and I’ve added to my risk factors. 

Swell. I’m still hoping I can turn this around, I know what I need to do, I know what’s worked for me in the past. I’m just annoyed that the DTLA habits I set up for myself aren’t anything I’m going to return to - and so, I have to find another way to do it here.

June 21, 2020

June 21, 2020 

Father’s Day, Solstice, another weekend down. This weekend we brought in gardeners to clear weeds, cut back vines, trim trees - and I have to say they transformed our environment in a matter of hours. I keep thinking this is something I should be able to do myself, but at the rate I was going, I could barely keep up with the new growth. I have to thank Lisa for making it happen, bypassing my best intentions. 

This afternoon we spent some time putting the patio furniture back in place, cleaning off the tables, the fountain and then just sitting back with the dogs, having a beer in our backyard - mild summer day. That’s all I really wanted - and now I have it on the first day of Summer. I will enjoy that space. 

Friday I had my first post- Covid doctors appointment. It was in person, so missed out on the telemedicine experience, but there was blood work to be had. I’ve gained the Covid 19, I knew that - but now it’s clear that work at home is here to stay and I’ll have to work in some new habits to a be more active, probably walking the neighborhood without the pugs. All this is transitioning my way of thinking, that this is a temporary moment instead of a permanent shift. Sure, there is more change to come - but these changes will be more about new situations than returning to anything familiar.

June 14, 2020

June 14, 2020 

We actually dined out this weekend - and honestly I remain conflicted about it. On the one hand it was great to go to a familiar place, see the same faces (albeit masked) and get to catch up like old friends. Also great to hear, “shall I get your favorite beer” to have indulge the fantasy that everything is back to normal again. Of course it’s not. 

We went in that in between time that is neither lunch nor dinner so social distancing wasn’t a problem. In fact as a patron I felt safer dining than I do when I walk the dog, with people out walking or having graduation parties on their front lawns - I’m constantly crossing the street, reversing course, or just stepping up a driveway to minimize contact. But that’s the selfish perspective - the risk isn’t to the patron, it’s to the server who get to deal with patrons who take the rules less seriously. 

Again, I have the privilege to work at home, to be safe, and still have an income. The people working these jobs don’t have that luxury and are stuck pretending everything is fine to the shittiest of clients. So I did my part, to perpetuate the capitalist machine, to contribute to the local economy, to generate income for my neighbors and participate in their exploitation. I hope we find better ways as we work through this.

June 10, 2020

June 10, 2020 

Moved my car again for street sweeping, still a full tank 3 months later. The spider webs are now accumulating twigs, leaves, and other vegetation, soon my car will evolve into a mobile shrubbery. Rumor has it that my work is planning on selling their downtown headquarters, which is sad because working downtown was one of my favorite things about my work. Of course the downtown I loved doesn’t exist anymore, vanished like Weimar Berlin - or perhaps just biding away for now as outdoor cafes seem ready to spring into existence. 

I’ve been trying to stay in the moment by focusing on what is the best thing I can do now - sometimes, that’s nap, do the dishes, or make that doctors appointment - but I find I need some future thinking to keep me motivated, thoughts about where I’m headed, what I hope to accomplish - how to create that philosophy store, or epicurean garden. 

Disneyland announced it would try to open on its 65th birthday (July 17, 2020). Most people I know think it’s too soon, but one of my goals for the year was to attend Disneyland’s birthday so I’m sort of torn about it, as if It were to happen at all I’d go alone and then probably have to go into a 14 day quarantine. But I have a number of things on my 2020 list that I can no longer do as I originally imagined. It’s probably time to revisit that list and modify it accordingly - find my post-COVID, pre-election goals that go beyond exploiting my privilege yet bring me some sense of fulfillment. Everything is a work in progress.

June 7, 2020

June 7, 2020 

The weekend is once again over, and once again I have little to show for it - a haircut, which in these times is actually significant and borders on political. Is Covid over, is it safe to do such things? In my weekend out, I saw plenty of folks unmasked, crowded on streets, which are now being filled with patio diners. The restaurants and shops seem to be mostly struggling to comply. 

Actually, I think most of us are trying to find ways to make things sustainable over the long term. We had a visit from friends for a Birthday celebration, we saw each other masked at 20 feet for about 20 minutes. Was that okay? Certainly safer than meeting at a restaurant for dinner. Is there a way to safely expand one’s pod? 

And while contemplating this, word of someone I know having died, with Covid aa a likely contributor. My last conversation with her touched on my cancelled appointment in Santa Monica, where she once lived and that she hadn’t seen me in person since her father’s funeral. From what I gather from mutual friends, her relationships were carried out mostly online, messenger, Facebook, words with friends is how she interacted with the world and what I feel worse about is that none of us had seen her recently in person, not even masked, at 20 feet for 20 minutes. 

Meanwhile, I feel I should say something about the protests, that I support them, that we need to look beyond labeling individuals as racist or not, but start to find ways to dismantle the institutional racism that gets perpetuated in our infrastructure. My manicured feed though, will likely have 99% agreement on that. I’m glad though that the current messaging has included notice that in our attempt to confront our own, often ignorant racism, that we will make mistakes, and that we need to find ways to acknowledge our failings so we can move beyond them. 

A few years ago I recognized that my education had some severe gaps by not including women and people of color in its curriculum. My major was in philosophy which prides itself in challenging assumptions, but I found that one the real downsides of privilege is that it blinds you from seeing it - leaving so many assumptions unchallenged. I feel I’ve been playing catch up, only reading James Baldwin or Belle Hooks in the last two years. That’s my personal project, but more will have to change, and I will have to challenge myself to help make it happen. It’s hard to see the flaws in a system you have benefited itself from.

June 5, 2020

June 5, 2020 

Another week down, this one filled with curfews, angers, and fears. Lisa has work again which has brought us downtown at least once a day - I don’t know which is more surreal, the empty streets of Covid we saw last, or this week’s boarded store fronts patrolled by the National Guard. I keep hearing that restrictions are being eased, but it seems even more places are closed. 

I see in Paris, The cafes and streets crowded with the mostly unmasked, celebrating their release from quarantine and a return to normal life. I don’t see that happening for us anytime soon. And yet, tomorrow I have a hair appointment - so hows that for a moment of denial and privilege? It’s almost embarrassing considering the ongoing struggles taking place across the nation. But it will feel good to support a friend and small business.

May 31, 2020

May 31, 2020 

Helicopters overhead as stores within walking distance are being looted, nowhere near where protests Took place earlier today. Fireworks echo and plums of smoke fill the air from local fires. People Complained about “safer areas home” mask requirements for Covid 19 and now we’re in a real lockdown as the National Guard deploys. 

We just bought ourselves a giant TV so we could read subtitles more comfortably and now we watch the news, pointing out the familiar places being looted and burned. We invested in our anxiety, as coverage continues we will not sleep. 

I know these fears, this discomfort pales in comparison with those with less privilege, but I’m disappointed that we got to this point where the shops and restaurants that made up my community, that suffered from Covid, now face this obstacle which may just destroy them. I knew we would never come out of this the same, but there were still parts of the community that I hoped would endure. Now I’m not so certain. I hope we find a way out of this, and I hope we can preserve the good that once existed before this. Right now, I grieve.

May 30, 2020

May 30, 2020 

What a day, I watched the Spacex launch and felt as giddy as that 8 year-old self who watched the Apollo launches. But that sandwiched between the protest and riot events, it seems anything I can say is just an embarrassing expression of my own privilege. 

We now live in a world where division is encouraged over unity. Social media monetizes our outrage and fear, so has no incentive to prevent it. We have a president who cavalierly threatens violence. Is it no wonder that we find ourselves here? 

This is what it looks like when people express their radical freedom, this is the anarchy that underlies all institutions that fail to benefit their constituents. 

No curfews yet for Long Beach, but more protests scheduled for tomorrow. This hasn’t ended yet, National Guard expected in LA tomorrow and so curfews, martial law, fear of riots are added to Covid to keep us “safe at home.”

May 26, 2020

May 26, 2020 

On Monday of Memorial Day Weekend, I finally took on the front yard as the weeds were getting some height and we’ve already had our warnings from the city. In retrospect I should have done this on Saturday or Sunday when it was cooler, but procrastination doesn’t work that way. Meanwhile the vines are reclaiming the backyard - maybe next weekend. 

Today it’s back to work, and as things open up I wonder how they’ll work. It already seems that some people feel we’re done and everything’s okay. Most of the people I know will probably continue to shelter in place for now. I have an opthamologist appointment next week, which will mark the first time a stranger will be in my face. Later that week I’ve a tentative hair appointment scheduled - more likely to occur since it will take place across county lines, but if it doesn’t - I’m getting to ponytail length so I may resurrect my look from the 90s. 

 Our neighborhood seems to have broken out the fireworks and explosives for the Summer. Fireworks are illegal in Long Beach which means nothing to the crowd who feel their rights are being infringed upon. Not to mention it’s nearly impossible to stop. Dashiell is now afraid to go out at night, and honestly I don’t blame him as skyrockets which at least leave a sparkly trail to enjoy have been replaced by window rattling explosions. Somehow I thought the current environment would suppress such things, but I guess spending time in same place just makes you want to blow shit up. Me, is just like to go have a beer somewhere.

May 23, 2020

May 23, 2020 

Started out the day with a plan to clear some of the clutter from my office. That ended up being a nostalgic detour through some of my moms papers stashed in an ancient PeeChee folder. I found old passports, immunization records, birth announcements, documents from her immigration to first Canada, then the United States, and poetry. Poems from my father that she had kept, a poem from my grandfather to my father on the sorrows of aging, a letter to my mom from a cousin all in verse. Poems meticulously typed on Onion skin paper to safely and economically make the journey overseas. Google Photos and Google lens are now helping me translate the German and I have a new project. 

Beyond that though it has me wondering about what artifacts we leave each other now? Photographs and memes, a private chat conversation, an email? The technology changes, but we all long to preserve that piece of ourselves that is uniquely us - or so we presume. Somewhere in my garage is a stash of letters I have kept from the time before email. I may find poetry there as well, another project in my future perhaps, but I really think I just want to write more and share the stories of the people I knew who can no longer tell them.

May 22, 2020

May 22, 2020 

Another week passed, has anything changed Restrictions relaxing, but it seems just the same. I finally made some progress in clearing some clutter from my work place, but I think that was spurred from speculative conversations about how we’d never return to our building - given social distancing it makes total sense - 29 floors, as many as 5,000 employees and only 2 people allowed in an elevator at anyone time. Days would be spent waiting for the elevator to go to work followed by waiting for the elevator to go home. Until those logistics change I’ll be working from home, so I better get comfortable here. 

It’s Memorial Day weekend, and I’m happy for the extra day, though honestly in the current situation will it be any different? Check in with me later and we’ll see. For the moment I’m optimistic - perhaps I’ll make a dent in that to do list, or the extra day will provide yet another reason to procrastinate, to set things aside for a time when things are better, more auspicious, or me just more desperate to get things done.

May 20, 2020

May 20, 2020

Today my work day is identical to yesterday’s. The meetings that were supposed to happen got rescheduled, so is this really a different day? It’s like the Ship of Theseus problem expressed in time - as each day gets replicated plank by plank, meeting by meeting, dog walk by dog walk isn’t it really just the same day? 

I feel I’m in a losing battle with entropy - then again, in the big picture entropy conquers us all. In Phillip K Dick’s “Do Androids Dream if Electric Sheep,” (and not in the film adaptation Bladerunner),he introduces the concept of “kipple.” Kipple is the clutter and debris that seems to spontaneously generate and accumulate in abandoned spaces. It self replicates. Case in point, we receive a package from amazon, later that day there are several empty boxes and packaging materials all over the living room. I carry it all out to the trash, only to later find a empty box from Trader Joe’s in the kitchen. I go to bed and in the morning there’s a fresh pile of boxes in the living room plus the box in the kitchen. Philip K. Dick was on to something - and you should read the book if you haven’t. And it’s not just the boxes, it’s dishes and glassware, dirty laundry - everyday the kipple advances.

May 18, 2020

May 18, 2020 

Feeling a bit better today, starting week 9? I guess? of work under quarantine/SIP - still getting into that rhythm. 

I’ve been thinking about narrative again - that our lives are predicated on the stories we construct about ourselves - and we are stuck in this place that has interrupted our narrative. It’s hard to tell which way we are heading and so unclear what to say about this moment. In the end it will be captured as a moment of reflection, coming to understand one’s purpose, taking a rest before carrying on, a moment to succumb to the seduction of indolence, a test of character, an exhausting delay. But for now we don’t quite know what this moment will be in our future stories. 

I find myself wanting to delve into Bettelheim and Jung - to dig into the primordial archetypes. The story is unfamiliar to us, but common enough if we sink back a few generations. The Spanish Flu, the Plague, all have stories to tell, stories we’ve ignored and are now living them fresh. Tales of the hubris of those believing themselves exempt from nature, tales of nihilistic abandon of those believed condemned, tales of sacrifice and survival, tales of grift and compassion. These stories are old but new to us again, ready to take on the stamp of our retelling with the details that make them our own. 

I wonder myself what story I will tell, or be told, about me in these times. I hope it’s a good one though.

May 17, 2020

May 17, 2020 

The day started out strong, though restful and lazy. But my eyes started to feel itchy, the the sinus behind my eyes started bothering me. Allergies? Dehydration? I don’t know but it kind of killed the evening for me. Drinking lots of water, taking some Benadryl hoping to feel better in the morning.

May 16, 2020

May 16, 2020 

Tonight we participated in an online cooking class sponsored by one of our local still closed restaurants. I am exhausted. Three courses prepared in around an hour, I felt constantly behind: wait what am I preparing now? Was that snap peas or English peas? Is this the herb blend - or is it the garnish? I mean there are herbs here? 

Mind you the ingredients had all been prepared in advance in all their own containers, but by the time we were finished every available inch of counter space was covered and efforts to keep courses separate failed almost immediately as we move the iPad around to find the best viewing for the moment. 

Lisa and I made a good tag team, one of us preparing one item while the other watched to capture the next steps - grabbing the 8” sauce pan, no wait the 10” leave the stove on! We need another pan! Where’s a trivet? Ultimately a variety of pots and pans covered the stove as well as the sink. 

The end results we delicious. And it was nice to take breath, and have a few bites at the table leaving the kitchen behind. We prepared much more than we could eat in one setting - tomorrow we can feast again. But I think next time we seek out a cooking class, I’ll pick something simpler - perhaps grill cheese would be a good start? 

I recall my mom watching the Galloping Gourmet on TV - I don’t remember her ever making anything along with Graham Kerr, but I do recall she always poured a glass of wine and toasted and drank along with him as he cooked - I imagine that was a drinking game played out by many a mom in the 70’s taking the edge off before the kids came home and commandeered the TV for the next after school special, and the real dinner prepared. 

But tonight we succeeded, we made the meal as shown on TV. We enjoyed the fruits of our labor. But now after (most) of the dishes are done, I’ll raise a glass to my mom and her celebrity crush and say cheers.

May 14, 2020

May 14, 2020 

I woke up this morning feeling depressed and entirely unmotivated. Two snoring pugs presses up against me and I thought it would be foolish to leave such a dog pile. But I had work, a meeting at 9:00 - which is actually plenty of time but I dreaded the process. Shower, get dressed, walk the dogs, pour some coffee, and pretend to be productive. 

I took a long hot shower. One of the joys of a tankless water heater is that it never runs out of hot water so you can stay as long as you please. They say these are good for the environment, but I know better. Sometimes my moods need a good cleaning, a power wash and steam. This was one of those mornings where I just let the water flow over me in a sort of transcendental consciousness - I could have been chanting on, but instead my brain played an ear worm medley of Jobim and Astrude Gilberto. Hot languid bossanova beats till I was ready to emerge into the silence of the house. 

My mood did shift as I slowly accepted my obligations for the day, knowing they would soon be behind me ticking off each task, each meeting, each chore. There will always be more to do, and it’s will be there again tomorrow. 

I know I get repetitious, and my thoughts tend to wallow, but it’s hard to escape it. I hope if I’m at least honest about that, I might find a path to overcome it. Nihilism is too easy, and always available - good for that downward spiral. But even if nothing matters, there is something that matters to me, if not to anyone else. That’s what I seek on days like today, and sometimes that takes shape in the sounds of bossanova in a long hot shower.

May 13, 2020

May 13, 2020 

We’ve hit the two month mark, and once again this might only be the halfway mark - but halfway to what?  

I’ve started to pair my podcast listening with my dog walks so slowly catching up on my backlog. I’ve gained the weekends, but my 2+ hours a day commute is hard to compete with. I’m still spending too much time on social media, but I’ve stopped all the refreshing of the Covid stat websites. I still look on occasion as various parties claim things are getting better, to confirm they are really getting worse. 

I haven’t finished a single book in the past two months. I saw an article about the reason it is so difficult to read now, but I only got as far as the headline. That said, poetry has caught my ear on more than a few occasions and I wonder if that’s the medium I need to explore right now - something to transcend the memes and the latest opinion piece on mask etiquette. 

Work continues to take up my productive time - not that I’m terribly productive, but after working I have a hard time getting motivated to do any of the things around the house I’d like to do. 

 I haven’t made bread, or composed a replica of a Getty artwork using toilet paper rolls, but earlier in the week I crafted a decent champagne cocktail. We all have our preferred media. Exploring the bar, I mixed some gin, absinthe, a little maraschino topped off with Prosecco - Death in the Cherry Orchard, it seemed to hit the spot. Tonight though, it’s bourbon on ice. Some days are steeped in entropy, but there are little victories on the way. Perhaps these wins will lead to clues on how the next weeks or months unfold? Or at least where the pleasure may lie.

May 12, 2020

May 12, 2020 

This morning we got a surprise visit from a friend on her way to pick up her order at the Beer Lab, our local, brewery bakery, and now general store in that old-timey sense of having supplies like flour, yeast, and rye. We briefly chatted from our porch, probably maintaining a good 20’ feet between us. It was great to see her, but also strangely awkward - no invitation to come in for a cup of coffee. No real privacy either as other people walking down the street unknowingly intruded on our conversation. It’s hard not to be able to have any intimacy with our friends. 

In the evening I walked our dogs and must have easily encountered 20 or more people, walking down the street. No more than 3 wore masks - and while I understand they aren’t required for exercise or walking dogs, fewer than half made an effort to maintain a minimum 6 foot distance as they passed me. I feel judged, but I’m also judging others. I’m resentful of the strangers who approach me, when I can’t approach my friends. 

Word is out that for us in LA County, this will likely continue through July. Seeing the numbers, I have to say that’s likely and more over the right thing to do. I’m still privileged to have my job which will probably continue through this extended confinement. However, I’m still hoping to find some opportunities, to find ways of sharing intimacy with our friends even as we remain apart.

May 11, 2020

May 11, 2020 

Away a couple days and it doesn’t seem to matter. Restrictions eased, and my behavior is no different. France also is no longer in lockdown, and my Instagram feeds from France haven’t changed much either. 

Meanwhile, I think we’ve started week 8 of whatever we have come to call this - self-isolation, quarantine, shelter in place, safe at home - and it’s getting harder to differentiate the days. Today it was work followed by an experimentation on champagne cocktails - end the day listening to Bossanova. A new batch of groceries delivered followed by a wish of having planned differently. It’s hard to be spontaneous. I have a longing for road trips and beat poetry, to leave the routine. But here we are and I remain grateful for it despite the resentment. 

I know I need to take charge of the time. There are opportunities, ways to think differently about just about everything. Instead I wait. But what am I really waiting for? A new routine, a new rhythm, A new set of expectations? Now is the time to rewrite them all and still the inertia prevails. Tomorrow, there is always tomorrow - until there isn’t.

May 8, 2020

May 8, 2020 

Today was the first easing of restrictions for Californians. Small retail is now open. Not that I went out to buy anything. The day went as many others in the past. I worked from home, had a cocktail when I finished, made dinner, walked and fed the dogs, had a video chat with friends. 

I suppose I now have a few more alternatives - book stores, for example should be open - of course amazon already killed the local bookstores I would have loved to have visited. Not sure if the library is open yet. I’m waiting for that one because in order to complete the acquisition of a library card, they have to verify my identity in person. Until I do that, I can’t access any of their online content. Meanwhile we’re exploring refinancing our house - so far every transaction has been completed with a phone call or a phone app. I guess the final paperwork will require a physical meeting, but no mention of that yet. 

This weekend we will pick up some more plants for the garden. Perhaps we’ll take a drive. I would like to see all the ships in the harbor - I hears their horns echoing across the morning clouds. I’d also like to see the bioluminescence that’s going on with the current red tide. The parking lots remain closed, but I figure there must be a way to get close enough to see it. 

More things can be open, but I’ve got my routine. Maybe when the museums and galleries return? I really miss stopping to have breakfast or a beer while going about our day - but last week we stockpiled on all the things we need and those places are way down on the list to eventually reopen. So until then, I guess we’ll keep keeping to ourselves and watch to see if the numbers rise or fall.

May 7, 2020

May 7, 2020 

Epistemology. Epistemology is a sub-genre of philosophy that concerns itself with questions about knowledge - that is how we come to know things. As a former philosophy major, this was easily one of my least favorite disciplines - sure it gave us the Scientific Method, but existentialism was just way more sexy to me. 

Last year though, I read Gloria Origgi’s “Reputation: What it is and why it Matters” which announced the death of the Information Age with that of the age of reputation. Sure science gives us the tools to come to know new things, but most of us don’t spend our days doing controlled experiments to test our hypotheses - rather we rely on trusted sources to do that vetting for us. Unfortunately that means we are now at a place where information has been politicized, we have our own trusted sources (that reinforce our beliefs) and distrusted sources which our sources discredit. 

So here we are, fundamentally divided, exasperated that the other side can’t see the truths which to us are self-evident. We don’t trust the other’s sources to be telling the truth. Ultimately we’ll fall back on that scientific method, but that doesn’t yield immediate results we can act on right away, it’s slow and deliberate by design because it’s objective is to bring us closer to truth - not necessarily what we should do right now. And while it gives us a way to predict the future, it advances when it’s predictions fail. It gives us better hindsight than foresight. In the end we’ll learn which of us was closer to the truth, but it may not matter then.

May 5, 2020

May 5, 2020 

What is it about friends - what is it that they contribute so much to ones we’ll bring and happiness? Sure there is being seen, being acknowledged - but there’s that joy of sharing - the music discovered, the cocktail experiment, the travel adventure - just the shared experience that is so much greater than the things one experiences on their own. 

Epicures, the first true hedonist knew: “Of all the things which wisdom provides to make us entirely happy, much the greatest is the possession of friendship” 

We celebrate now as we can, through zoom chats, emails, phone calls, conversations across the social distance the real connection was never something physical, and yet there is something about occupying the same space or time. We still need to be “together” in some way. Confinement has been a challenge to be sure, but it is comforting that we are finding ways around it, that we can still share our experiences, laugh at the absurdity, and remain optimistic that we’ll get together again in the bar, that club, that vacation home, or our own kitchens and living rooms where we prepare each other feasts from our discoveries. It won’t happen tomorrow, but we all know it will come.

May 4, 2020

May 4, 2020 

The best laid plans... the day to day monotony makes for them. The expectation that this day will go as the last, as that went like the one before. Sometimes there are variations - mostly by what’s been most recently completed from the to-do list but we all know that once the laundry and dishes are done, there will be more laundry and dishes to do. 

It’s the unexpected that marks the days, the things that break from the normal routine. Sometimes it can be quite awful, the death of a pet, a neighbor’s car vandalized, but sometimes it can be a delight. Today we spent our evening video conferencing with friends. Unexpected conversations made us adjust our routine. Pot stickers replaced the planned meal, that and new snacks from Trader Joe’s. The dogs didn’t get their late night walk either. But I’ll be up again at dawn, without any regrets because I love chatting with our friends, people we haven’t heard from since before Covid - continuing to catch up even as the organizers signed off to go fulfill their own obligations. There is something about these interactions, ideas shared, loving slights of self-deprecation, riffing on the concept of “murder kittens” My heart is full, and the laundry will still be waiting for me in the dryer.

May 3, 2020

May 3, 2020 

Today I was stopped in my tracks taking out the trash by a half dozen butterflies fluttering about me. Of course as anyone else in this day and age I quickly pulled out my cellphone to capture this delicate ballet and was not disappointed. The aerial dance went on and I was just another object to be circumnavigated or avoided. I was delighted and as I added this edition to my Instagram feed I couldn’t help but notice how much of my feed has become a celebration of our urban flora and fauna. 

Perhaps it’s spring. It’s hard not to notice the season’s stunning entrance with the profusion of blooms and now all these butterflies making their appearance. Perhaps it’s just that these otherwise subtle changes leap out of the monotony. Whichever it is, I can’t deny that noticing these things delight me and being me pleasure. An extension of gratitude I suppose, an acknowledgement of lives conducted independent, parallel, and indifferent to my own.

May 2, 2020

May 2, 2020 

Some days it seems like you can only get one thing done. Today it was shopping. Gone are the days when you could pick everything up in one place, or just drop in to pick something up. This is now an all day campaign. Suiting up with mask and gloves - now add hat, because chances are you’ll be standing out in the sun for awhile before you even get to a store. 

Our strategy is to start with the big box store - if they have something, they’ll have it in abundance so you may as well stock up in hopes you won’t have to go back for at least a month. Then there’s Trader Joe’s - we know they can fill our basic needs ( including snacks and liquor) but so does everyone else. The good thing about Trader Joe’s now though, is even if there’s a line snaking around the building - if there’s a parking space you’ll get in and out quicker than pre-Covid Trader Joe’s. 

The challenge then, is the specialty items. Do we need to pick up prescriptions at CVS? Condensed milk for that key lime pie? Or for heaven's sake did we really run out of Angostura bitters again? Did we really make that many Manhattans? 

At the end - should we not abandon the quest on the way - we start to think about take-out as it’s now close to dinner time and the weeds are still in the garden and the clothes remain unlaundered. Tomorrow’s another day - at least we got the shopping done. Mostly.

May 1, 2020

May 1,  2020 

Last night’s Walpurgis Nacht celebration began with margaritas - which for some reason are one of my most potent of cocktails (should I ever offer one, decline - unless you are prepared to stay the night) - and followed with Kirschwasser as I felt I needed something more culturally appropriate. Needless to say after a few great zoom chats, Houseparties, and IM’s I was done for the day - that honestly needed to be a pre-covid Friday. 

So work this morning was a slow start - mostly due to resentment though rather than any ill feelings. 

But May Day - a day mostly ignored in the US, but full of pagan erotic fertility, communist gender display, and celebration of the working class. Today we had protestors not marching for better working conditions, pay, or healthcare - rather protests for the consumer class, the desire to buy things and make themselves more desirable, to go to the beach and be free from the consequences of their actions. To stay in denial, that the world has not changed. But the world is constantly changing whether we accept it or not and those who can adapt to the change better suited than those who resist. We’ve a long way to settle, to find where the change takes us. May we all be better off in the May Days to come.

April 29, 2020

April 29, 2020 

Venus is at its brightest tonight, which means that now it will start to fade. The dimming evening star will start to sink slowly each night into the horizon until it vanishes once again from the night sky. 

Venus, planet of love. Does this also mark the peak of our goodwill to each other? Will our love start to fade and sink lower and lower to the ground and then be hidden from our view? 

Once we thought we were the center of the universe. We’ve since learned the universe is expanding - that finding its center has no real meaning. We are in motion, dancing with the stars, the planets, the continents, and our friends as well as our enemies. The center is just a point of view. 

We watch the cycles, the repetitions - the orbit of the plants, the vibrations atoms, and the progress of the seasons. The flowers that bloom, the leaves that fall, the fruit that ripens and then rots. 

Our rhythm was interrupted, the rhythm of calendars and clocks - notifications and alarms. The markings of time we’ve relentlessly scored into patterns we discovered. But there were more severe interruptions. Life and death has its own rhythm, the later inescapable - that alone may make compassion fade, when the lives saved are both unknown and temporary. 

Come June though, the fading Evening Star will re-emerge as the Morning Star and climb again into the sky. Perhaps that will mark our weariness of the cynicism and we can again show our compassion. A chance to make something new, or at least find a new rhythm.