To Do List
1. Do something that makes you laugh.
2. Do something that makes you smile.
3. Talk to someone who makes you feel appreciated.
4. Do something that makes you feel better physically.
5. Do something that improves your mood.
6. Do something that will put you in a better position tomorrow.
7. Do something that will bring a smile to someone’s face.
It’s gallant to reach out
To get back in touch
Perchance to rekindle
Good feelings and such
But do it with caution
Don’t be in a rush
You might find that old friends
Need you as much
As a Chrysler
Parked in their living room
It might be naïve
To expect them to Zoom
Or propose a reunion
Anytime soon
When all hopes of connecting
Are doomed
The virus has two advantages. First, it’s designed to infect as many living beings as possible. That’s how it regenerates itself. If it runs out of bodies to infect, the virus will cease to exist.
Secondly, it mutates very quickly. It mutates for the purpose of being more effective in its mission, i.e. more infectious.
When a mutations is more infectious, it spreads more quickly through the population. The most infectious strains dominate by infecting more beings than the less infectious versions.
New variants are being formed all the time, and that will keep happening until almost EVERYONE is vaccinated. If you had Covid-19 and recovered, I’m glad that you survived, but you may have contributed a new variant in the process.
Existing variants are more dangerous to children and young adults. Vaccines are not as effective at preventing infection by variant strains. Future variants will be even more resistant.
The only was to stop this diabolical scourge is to get as many people vaccinated as possible. It doesn’t matter if you feel fine or if you’ve already had the virus.
The virus has a mission to infect as many people as possible. We need to make stopping it our mission, because left to its own devices, it’s only going to become a more serious problem.
I used to revere the Academy Awards. I didn’t always agree with the results, but I believed that an Oscar represented the highest recognition of excellence in filmmaking.
I became more cynical when I learned that studios and production companies spend millions of dollars lobbying Academy members for their votes. I’m not sure that anyone understands the impact of all of this schmoozing on the final vote tallies, but it suggests that votes are not cast simply based on merit.
Daytime and nighttime talk shows are part of the same marketing engine. People don’t appear on ‘The Tonight Show’ at random. They are booked to promote a specific project, a book, a movie, a television show, an album, a tour, etc. These shows are infomercials for the entertainment industry.
The most egregious marketing schmaltz of all has to be a certain music awards show, the name of which begins with the letter G.
The music industry is driven by numbers - record sales, single plays and downloads, ticket sales, and views of music videos. Record companies have a well-developed formula to maximize those numbers, and it has nothing to do with maximizing the quality of the music.
They recruit young, energetic, visually appealing performers with the potential to connect with large numbers of consumers aged 8 to 29. They pair the performer with a producer, give them a budget, and send them into studios to record songs and make videos. Another big chunk of the budget goes into a marketing blitz.
The awards show is the icing on the cake. As sales and buzz surge, this year’s Big Act does a featured performance early in the show. Later on, they win an award or two, surprise, surprise! The executives and producers involved in the project laugh all the way to the bank.
In a few years, people will wonder whatever became of Big Act. What happened was that there fortune was based more on the quality of their marketing than their ideas. The record companies move on and find new acts to fill the role of Primary Revenue Maker, and Big Act fades into the oblivion of tabloid headlines and reality TV.
Thank goodness for our memories
This isn’t ‘Field Of Dreams’
What’s done is done
What’s gone is gone
The Dead don’t walk out from the corn
You can improve your life in a minute. You can help someone else in two. In five minutes, you can do something good for the world.
When my alarm rang this morning, my first thought was: “Why did I set the alarm? It’s Sunday. I should go back to sleep for a few hours.”
Sometime in the next few minutes I recalled events that had occurred on both Saturday AND Sunday, highlighting the fact that this was indeed Monday morning and I would not have the luxury of sleeping in.
It’s a moment that I will always treasure and the uplifting experience that mankind needed at the time.
On August 1, 2020, a gleaming, conical space capsule parachuted gently into the ocean. It reminded me of the Apollo spacecraft that we had watched return to Earth after missions to the moon. I remember watching those historic moments with my dad. We watched this one together, as well.
I hadn’t seen my parents much during the Covid-19 pandemic. Travel seemed risky for all parties involved.
The last time I had seen them under normal circumstances was the prior November. I wanted to drive out to see them before the winter weather took a turn for the worse. It was a nice visit. Everyone was in good spirits. The one thing that concerned me was that Dad was hunching over more than he ever had. I debated whether to mention something to him, but I didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.
I made another trip in February, 2020 on a weekend with unseasonably mild weather. The virus was not yet widespread in the US, but there were isolated outbreaks, and it was causing unspeakable suffering in places like Italy and Iran. It was only a matter of time before things got worse here. I reasoned that this might be my only chance to see my folks for the year. A widespread quarantine was probably on the horizon.
Dad was in good spirits, and we had several lively discussions. At one point he confided that his doctor had mentioned his change in posture and had advised him to try to stand more upright. I felt relieved that Dad was being looked after.
As I set out for the long drive home, Dad opened the gate at the end of the driveway and saw me off cheerfully, mentioning how much he appreciated me and all that I do. In that moment, I noticed that something didn’t seem right. Dad seemed frail and vulnerable in a way that I had never seen him. I occurred to me that it might be the last time I saw him, and that shook me up a bit, but I didn’t have a clear reason as to why I was having these thoughts. I rationalized that I was panicking over the pandemic. Still, I felt very uneasy as I drove away.
In the coming weeks, the public health situation became much worse. New York City became the global epicenter of the pandemic. Schools and businesses closed on short notice. Hospitals struggled to keep up with a rapidly accelerating disaster. Sports leagues suspended their seasons. Most international travel was banned. Broadway went dark.
I was hoping to drive our for Dad’s eighty-fifth birthday, but everything was changing and travel seemed ill-advised. There was all sorts of talk of quarantines for people coming from various states, and since my area was the hardest hit in the spring, I wasn’t sure whether it would even be feasible.
So, I decided to come up with a gift that I could share remotely. I composed some music for him, a tuba concerto. That may seem like an odd gift, but Dad always loved classical music, and he played the tuba (and guitar) in high school. With his hearing loss, it was difficult for him to enjoy music played on high-pitched instruments like violins and flutes, but he could still enjoy the low roar of the tuba.
I worked on the concerto for about a month, using every free minute to compose and record it. I pushed myself hard and completed the final mix in time for his birthday. I exported a mix of each movement and sent the files to him by email.
Shortly after Dad’s birthday, I began to receive alarming reports from my sisters about his health. He was tired and uncomfortable. He had lost a considerable amount of weight since I had seen him in February, and he was rapidly losing lost interest in his normal activities.
I realized that I needed to drive out to see Dad as soon as possible. New York was doing better at this point, but the virus was causing havoc across the country. After a chaotic trip to the emergency room, it became clear that Dad needed to have specialized scans done, but the schedule for appointments was backed up for weeks. His primary care physician refused to see him, using pandemic restrictions as an excuse.
I rented a car, packed it with water and snacks, masks and cleaning supplies, and drove out to see Dad on Father’s Day weekend. I made as few stops as possible to minimize exposure.
Dad was definitely thinner, but he didn’t look too bad considering all that he’d been through. He didn’t have a lot of energy, but his spirits were high. We enjoyed lively conversations and spent some time watching television programs that he enjoyed.
During one of the conversations, I asked Dad what he had thought of the music that I had sent for his birthday. He confessed that he hadn’t been able to hear it well enough on the computer. His hearing loss had become too profound.
This was disappointing. Not only had I missed his eighty-fifth birthday, but the special gift that I had made foe him was a bust. But somewhere during the weekend I had an idea.
I had copies of the same music on my iPhone, and the iPhone volume goes up pretty loud. I ran out to the car and grabbed my headphones. I gave the headphones on to Dad and asked him to listen.
“Can you hear that?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah!”
Wow! Dad finally got to hear the music that I had written for him while we sat together on Father’s Day. I couldn’t have asked for a more meaningful experience.
It was a wonderful visit, but as I left I had to choke back tears. I didn’t know if I would see Dad again.
The drive back to New York went smoothly. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic. Not many people were traveling.
Parking was impossible when I got back. The normal parking regulations had been suspended. People left their cars in spaces for months. I had to double park while I dashed my suitcase and some bags into my building. I returned the rental car and walked home in bright sunshine. Inside, I cleaned up, got something to eat, and decompressed for a while. I was feeling a lot of emotions.
During the week, another idea occurred to me. Dad was able to hear music played through the earphones of my iPhone. Apple used to make a music playing device called an iPod. I checked the Apple website and, sure enough, they still made one. I placed an order immediately.
It took some effort, but over the course of the next two weeks, I assembled a collection of recordings of the classical music that I had composed over the years. I set up a separate iTunes library and transferred the recordings to the iPod.
Dad’s health was declining rapidly. I wanted to schedule another visit, but it was hard to plan around his rapidly evolving healthcare needs. My sister kept calling, trying to get Dad in for his scans. One Friday, she was able to get him in for a specialized scan when someone cancelled. The radiologist called later in the day and urged them to get Dad to the emergency room. His lung had collapsed.
Dad spent the weekend in the hospital. They patched him up as well as they could. His primary care physician still refused to see him, but one of his partners came to the hospital to relay the results to him and my sister. Dad couldn’t hear the conversation, which may have been a blessing in disguise.
The worst news was confirmed. The diagnosis was lung cancer, which had spread to other organs and into his bones, There was nothing that the doctors could do. It was too late. You can’t turn back the hands of the clock.
The conversation shifted toward palliative care. The mission would be to make Dad as comfortable as possible and let him spend his final days at home.
I rented a car for the weekend that crossed from July into August. It’s a beautiful time of year to be in the country. The fireflies were still in season.
Dad was much weaker now. He could barely walk. I was stunned to see what the disease had done to him in a few weeks’ time. Still, we spent as much time together as his energy level permitted.
I gave dad his present, the iPod with all of my music. He wasn’t able to work it with his hands, so I showed my sisters how to play it for him. He could hear the music, though. I cursed myself for not having the idea to give him something like this years earlier, but at least he had it now.
That Saturday we watched the television as the space capsule decoupled from the station and began its slow descent. On Sunday, we watched the splashdown, just as we had so many years before with the Apollo missions.
Dad felt tired and said that he was going to bed. I gave him a hug and kissed him. He was warm, and he smelled the way that he always had. It brought back memories of him holding me in his arms when I was a small child.
I wanted to give Dad something to look forward to, so I told him that I would be back in three weeks. “Okay!” he acknowledged with enthusiasm.
Dad lived for sixteen more days. He passed quietly in the middle of the night with my mother and sisters by his side while listening to music that I wrote for him in headphones.
Philando Castillo did not resist arrest. He was cooperating calmly. Breonna Taylor did not resist arrest. She was sleeping in her bed. Tamir Rice did not resist arrest. He was a 12-year-old kid playing with a toy gun when a cop shot him dead from a moving car. George Floyd broke down emotionally when he saw police officers because he was terrified for his life, with good reason. He was killed while lying on the ground in handcuffs. Elijah McClain was a gentle, 140-pound autistic boy who played his violin for kittens at the animal shelter. He had committed no crime and could not understand why police officers were confronting him. Instead of trying to calm him down, officers put McClain in an illegal choke hold and injected him with powerful sedatives.
THIS HAS TO STOP. IT JUST HAS TO STOP.
I understand that police officers do a difficult and dangerous job, but unless someone poses an immediate threat, deadly force should not be deployed. People should not be shot, choked, drugged, or have their neck broken in a violent arrest unless the lives of other citizens are in grave danger and there is no other option. Police officers should spend less time at the shooting range and more time in de-escalation training.
Remembering my Aunt Vivian, who had to have been one of the most fun aunts in history and probably one of the loudest. Vivian had a larger than life personality and a laugh that could shake the foundation. She loved dogs and cared for many, loved gardening and put her heart and soul into growing plants, and loved to bake cookies and cakes and pies and hams and her specialty, pineapple upside-down cake. She could bake enough to feed a small army and often did. She was a wonderful lady, and we miss her.
When you lie
Your fortunes fly
When you tell the truth
You lose
Don’t argue
That that this is cynical
When schemers
Reach the pinnacle
The world
Gives more to liars
Than it ever gave
The pious
You don’t have to believe it
There one sure way
To confirm it
Speak the truth
To someone dear
About something
That they can’t handle
And
Once they know
Watch
How fast they go
Sometimes
You show
The Horse where to go
And
Sometimes
The Horse shows you
Sometimes
You believe
That you have what you need
And
Sometimes
You need something new
Be like a plant:
- Get plenty of sunshine
- Rest when it’s dark
- Bloom when you’re ready
- Make the most of your quiet time
- Bear fruit
- Reduce carbon
- Get though the winter however you can
- Realize that a little rain is good for you
It’s better to have a soft heart and a hard **** than the other way around.
By the way, **** means body. What did you think I meant? 😄
When I was a small child, large, unfamiliar, sometimes smelly people would appear out of nowhere and try to hug and kiss me. It was terrifying.
I get the sense that for women, that terror never ends.
When the pandemic ushered in a new era of social distancing, closures, and lockdowns, people realized that they would have more free time, and with that free time, the opportunity to accomplish big projects such as catching up on reading or studying a new language.
I’m sure that we have all accomplished some fun and useful things during our months of isolation. Even if it was watching lots of programming on streaming services, it was still something that you would not have had time for under normal circumstances.
If you haven’t accomplished as much as you had hoped, take heart. You didn’t really have as much free time as you thought you would.
Sure, you did have to give up some treasured activities, and you had to spend more time at home, but you were also faced with an entirely new set of challenges. How do you continue working when you can’t go to an office, or if you don’t work in an office, how do you get to work safely and stay safe while you’re there? How do you register for unemployment when the website can’t handle the sudden surge in traffic? How do you find toilet paper and hand sanitizer when the store shelves are bare? How do you keep up with prescriptions and medical procedures?
Surviving this pandemic has not been easy. Give yourself credit that for everything that you have done that got you this far. You really have accomplished a lot in the past year even if it wasn’t the way that you expected to use your sudden windfall of free time.
