December 21, 2021

It’s happening again

Last night I found out that a restaurant we ate at with some friends on Friday, closed due to a staff member coming down with Covid. All of us were vaxed and boosted, so time and circumstances make it very unlikely that any of us will end up with Covid . And yet, there is this persistent anxiety. With breakout cases, new variants, there is always a risk.

In this case I feel more anxiety because the place we went was my suggestion, so I feel some responsibility for any ill outcome for my friends. This seems a new phase of the pandemic, whether there are any forced closures, or stay at home orders or not, the anxiety I feel makes me want to isolate, stay safe, keep others safe.

As the new year looms, I see events coming up on my calendar that I’m not sure will happen. This is, not sure I want to host or attend something that will cause these days of anxiety - not sure its worth it. For the moment, its one day at a time as I listen to my freinds, follow the news and see how this all plays out.

December 13, 2021

 December 13, 2021

I started following poetry accounts on Instagram, which goes against my general rules for following an Instagram account - no memes, images over text, and process over product. But now I’ve found that is one of the best ways to sample poetry. Captured as an image from a printed page you see it’s structure, but also the print pressed into fibers of a physical page, a page that may be yellowed with time, or carry the smudges of repeated reference. 

The other joy is it is a never ending anthology, each page giving me a taste of another poet. A quick quiet moment in my perpetual scroll, that sometimes causes me to pause, and think, and embrace the poem. Poetry can be intimidating, daunting, full of unfamiliar references, difficult to connect to beyond the words - but surprisingly, in my stumbling, I’ll find a poem that connects in ways I didn’t think possible, that its poet and I share a private history or understanding - the inside jokes leap from the page and I hunger for more. 

The unpopularity of poetry and the wisdom of librarians ensure that I can always find a book or two on the Libby app ready to check out and read. Today it’s Catherine Barnett. I am drunk on her words  - and maybe some bourbon. But I am enjoying all these serendipitous adventures. 

 December 8, 2021

Yesterday I went to the audiologist. She confirmed what I already knew, my hearing has gotten worse. That I likely have difficulty following conversations in noisy environments - I do. Apparently she has seen an uptick in visits. It seems that spending COVID in isolation meant many of us were in quieter surroundings, but now that we’ve started going out in public, many of us are having a harder time hearing - not to mention the face masks which strip away the visual cues of speech.

I’m irked by this slow but constant erosion of my senses. It’s aging. My mortality reaching out to give me a poke, a reminder, to take pleasure in the things I still can. My glasses thicken as the the pile of unread books gets taller. And soon hearing aids will bump the higher frequencies so I can engage in conversations, and hear what my friends have to say. Not to mention the music - the ripped CDs and vinyl, the illicit downloads from Napster, the symphonies and chansons, the live performances that almost certainly contributed to my diminished capacity.

The music will go on, stories will continue to be told, and poetry will be writen well beyond my stay here. And as voracious as my appetite for sounds, for art, for experience is there is much I’ll never taste. As much as we contemplate and long for the infinite, it is the limits, the boundaries, and decisions we make that define us through their filters. Which is really to say, or remind myself, to be grateful for all my past indulgences and the pleasures I have now - and yet, I remain irked.

July 3, 2021

July 3, 2021 

Today we got a surprise visit from my niece and her family and I couldn’t have been more delighted. We had a chance to catch up, but also take time to preserve our collective memories. I’d nearly forgotten the road trip we “kidnapped” her on. She told her work that there was a death in the family and she had to go to Germany. We found some vaguely European buildings to photograph in Berkeley in our Kerouacian journey that took us up the California coast. We visited other family and friends, paid homage to Cody’s and City Lights, old growth redwoods, and perhaps a not-so-nude beach. We were a bad influence, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

June 29, 2021

June 29, 2021 

This morning I woke to see one of our scrub jays perched outside my bedroom window. I couldn’t help but think he to was welcoming me home after our week-long trip. The dogs and cats gleefully made their welcome last night as soon as we walked through the door, and now compete for our laps, or the opportunity to press against us while they nap. 

I put fresh nuts out for the Jays and they returned with squawks of joy, each showing me the nut they had chosen before flying it off to their secret stash, before they get discovered by the backyard squirrel. 

The rhythm of the house restored.

June 6, 2021

June 6, 2021 

I know the pandemic has changed me, but I’m not entirely sure how - at least not yet. Will the openness inspire me to take on new adventures, or will it make me cautious and reluctant? Will I find ways to meet new people, forge new connections, or withdraw into myself and my close intimates? 

 I know I want to celebrate the vaccinations, the social occasions, the occupation of public spaces - but I’m also reluctant. Steeped in my habits of isolation I’m not sure who I am in the company of others. For the moment I seem more voyeur than participant, there’s an ideal out there is like to emulate but uncertain if I can pull it off. At some point I will have to jump in and find out.

May 16, 2021

Is it over? I spent most of yesterday with a group of friends I last saw all together 14 months ago. Unmasked, we hugged - and hugged again, shared our stories and picked up where we left off. At one point I was searching for some photos of a past gathering and was rather surprised to see how many things can happen in a year, an ordinary year. 

Today we saw (participated?) in a theater event at UCLA - A Thousand Ways by 600 Highwaymen - a unique and fascinating experience on its own. But returning to Royce Hall, the windy drive up Sunset, and pulling into a silent empty campus was other-worldly. COVID restrictions still in play - we were still participating in theater, a live performance.

We’re not there yet, but things are returning. And while I have moments of anxiety - do I still connect with my friends? Can I share my darker thoughts, will I recognize this stranger again and will she recognize me? - I take comfort in the deep breaths that fog my glasses, the muffled voices behind the facemasks, and how they will dissolve into the memories of this time - when it is over.

May 13, 2021

May 13, 2021 

In another transition phase - as the vaccinated have mask restrictions relaxed we seem one step closer to the post-pandemic world. This weekend I’ll be hanging out with a group of friends that I haven’t hung out with in 14 months. Dinner parties are possible again. 

Meanwhile, I still work from home with no sense of when or even if that is going to change - and as much as I miss my lunchtime strolls downtown, I’m hoping this change sticks for a little longer. 

I’m excited to see my friends again, to have real time conversations in real life. But honestly, the things we used during this time to keep in touch, video calls, texts, emails, sometimes even pen and ink - need to continue. It’s all too easy to think we’ll see someone again soon enough - and begin the slow drift from friend to stranger. There’s nothing like face to face but so many ways to stay connected and make sure those sweet moments happen.

April 11, 2021

April 11, 2021

Spent the evening on LinkedIn for the first time in I don’t know how long. What a strange alternate universe, presenting our “professional” selves overly conscious of our “Branding” and entirely inauthenticity. And yet, there I am looking at updating my profile, tweaking my job history to make me look more attractive to future potential hiring supervisors - hating every moment. 

But I browse the cliches, the “out of the box thinkers,” the “entrepreneurs,” - all the things we are supposed to value, but really don’t. Still we build our facades in the hopes that no one will really look through them to judge us with any accuracy. There is always Twitter to display our snarky hot takes, Facebook to enumerate and demarcate the boundaries of our tribe. Instagram for our fantasy life come true. 

But is it really any different - from the high school clubs joined to get into a better college, the clothes we wear to also signal our status and subculture. Social media gets a lot of blame for perpetuating our inauthenticity, but we’re we ever really “authentic” in the first place. Then again who are we if not our aspirations and our fantasies - that liminal angst between being and becoming, the shortcomings we hope to overcome. 

March 21, 2021

March 21, 2021 

I got vaccinated last week, this week. It seems the vaccinations are working their way through the people I know. It’s happening, perhaps not as quickly as I’d like, but it seems progress is being made. 

Already I see conflicts between the haves and have-nots. A food thread I follow asked if people are ready to dine in. Among the answers: “ Hell no, not till I’m vaccinated” along with “Hell yes, I’ve been vaccinated.” So now we wait for everyone to catch up. 

Being in the vax camp I can gloat a bit, and spin fantasies of dinner parties with my vaxed friends. But the vaccination is just the first step. There’s a waiting period for your body’ immune response - first signs at 2 weeks, recommendations to stay isolated for at least another 28 days and a full 56 days till the vaccine has its maximum effect. 

While all this happens many households are split and so have to wait till the last person is vaccinated before they can think about such trivial things as dinner parties. So we’re in this odd place where one looks to their “COVID 19” as a welcome increase in BMI perhaps qualifying them for an earlier tier, all our ailments are welcome now to get us through this transition. Let’s get through this one health crisis first.

February 17, 2021

February 17, 2021 

Loss. It’s a feeling of loss. You might say grief, but it’s not as deep as that. Melancholy? Sure, but maybe with a touch of regret - or is it resentment? Both are certainly present, whether or not they’re in this particular mix. 

Today is my mother’s Birthday, which now occurs 3 days after the anniversary of her death. She would have been 93 - closing in on that century mark. Is she even of this time anymore? 

This morning Françoise Cactus, from the band Stereo Total passed away. Age 57 - 2 years my junior - breast cancer. Stereo Total is the band I always made sure to see whenever they were in town - which seemed to be every couple of years. The duo had a niche popularity, playing the clubs not the ballrooms or stadiums - with their stripped down instruments barely a step up from street musicians. They toyed with genres, had a quirky sense of humor, and they were best seen live. I was looking forward to seeing them again, convincing more friends to join me in my fandom. 

The pandemic put things on pause - but not everything. Lives went on despite their truncated experiences. Business have closed that will never come back, other illnesses progressed, entropy continued and the time that would be spent with other events, concerts, readings, or adventures was spent waiting, sheltering in place, mostly isolated. This is the loss I felt today, the erosion of time, getting older with nothing to show for it. 

Spending the evening listening to Stereo Total I have to remember the flip side - to experience loss you must have something first to lose. I’m grateful for the music, the joy it makes me feel - even today. I’m grateful for all the artists, musicians, performers who have added so much to my life. I’m grateful for my friends who have shared in so many adventures, connections, and experiences. Gratitude balances the melancholy.

January 23, 2021

The last day of my 58th year - the night before steeped in talk of mortality, how we have honored the dead, how we hope ourselves will be honored, or remembered, the absurdity the transience of life where the tragic can transform instantly to the comedic and the quickly back again. One step closer. 

Today, it was partaking in one of those rituals of remembrance, this one for my mom, sharing one of her favorite things, a fondu with friends. A long slow dinner party preparing intimate bites between sips and stories. To my friends this is now a ritual associated with me, to my mom this was a ritual associated with her sister. A monument in practice, a tradition perhaps, but one that evolves with each iteration. 

Tonight the conversation continues with no agenda but to connect with each other, to be present in the moment. Memento Vivere - the future will come regardles

January 22, 2021

January 22, 2021 

A crow visited the backyard this morning. I’ve been putting out peanuts for the Jays for some time now. They call to me when they want to be fed, and on a few occasions, I’ve caught them peeking into the bedroom window to see if I’m there. A squirrel has learned of our routine and often waits behind the foliage of the wall, before claiming his share. But this morning a crow showed up. 

Lisa heard his call first, thinking it the squirrel who often chirps in protest of the dogs and cats who may be watching. It was the percussive clicking trill that Miyazaki forest creatures make - and crows. He was perched on a strand of fairy lights, looking at the nuts, the surroundings - as I lifted my phone to take a picture he flew off. Perhaps I spooked him, but he now knows where we are. 

One of my goals for last year was to friend a crow. So many of my goals were left undone last year as the pandemic struck, this was more a fanciful wish. But today, a crow came to visit - messenger from Odin? A happenstance perhaps, but I take it as a sign, things are changing and the things I have been unable to accomplish seem possible again.

January 21, 2021

January 21, 2021 

We went to bed last night talking about poetry - not the likelihood of national guard deployment, not which of our neighbors might vandalize our house, but poetry. 

Clearly the inaugural moment that stands out in my mind was poet Amanda Gorman, her thoughtful, powerful, playful words that comforted and challenged me. An LA poet, I’m embarrassed to confess I didn’t know about until her appearance on the dais. Less that two years ago she spoke at MOCA, back before the pandemic and I was a regular visitor. How could I miss her? 

Every time I encounter poetry in my life it moves me and delights me - yet I rarely seek it out. Maybe it’s the need to hear it that prevent me from picking up texts? Though, when I do, I often find pieces I love to share by reading aloud. Poetry must be spoken. Still, I’m not sure where my ambivalence comes from - too much bad poetry? The need for it to be actively engaged? An arcane medium pushed aside by playlists and podcast? Once again it seems something I ought to engage with and explore in the hopes of a future filled with more poetry and perchance less fear or violence.

January 2, 2021

January 2, 2021 

It’s a new year and this year I get to start it off with a medical procedure, a colonoscopy to be exact - my new doctor in reviewing my chart noted I was overdue. So after all the indulgences of the holidays I get to start things off with a cleanse. Today started the first round of restrictions, no fiber, no raw veggies, no nuts, no seeds, no whole wheat. Tomorrow I move on to clear liquids - oh and a COVID test - results required before the Monday procedure. 

Honestly, I’m surprised it’s still scheduled. It’s been postponed twice already for various reasons including the need to be performed at a hospital. With COVID cases hitting new highs daily, I’m surprised they have room for me. Lisa gets to drop me off and pick me up, not being allowed in the building herself, and with the current closures can maybe do a drive through Starbucks and wait in the car - do parking lots have WiFi now? I’ll be glad when this is behind me, the electoral votes counted, the inauguration performed, and the spikes from Christmas and New Year, start their hopeful decline. There are still obstacles to overcome, but at least for the moment, a path is suggested.