Like everybody else, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around our crazy new world.  Every day brings more dire news, increased fears, and new adjustments into our lives. I’m trying to avoid the television except for an hour in the morning (Today on NBC), and a half hour in the evening (NBC news with Lester Holt).  The rest of my information is gotten through social media – Facebook, Flipboard, e-mail (I subscribe to the Washington Post online), and conversations with friends in the U.S. and across the globe on WhatsApp. All sorts of articles, memes, jokes, and stories cross my path, and weird thoughts pop into my head, and since I’m trapped in the apartment, I’m just going to jot them all down here and post ‘em on this blog.

The days are blending together.  When I first retired, I would sometimes forget which day of the week it was.  Monday was easy, because Mark headed back to work. Friday was easy because Mark worked from home.  But I would often have to look at my phone to know whether today was Tuesday or Wednesday, Wednesday from Thursday.  Now Mark is working from home five days a week, and most of the time we both have no idea what day of the week it is.

I get cabin fever.  Mark doesn’t. Last week he didn’t leave the apartment for almost four days straight.  I need to go out for a little bit every day. I’ve been following social distancing guidelines.  It’s relatively easy, since there’s nobody on the streets anymore, and parks are nearly empty.  

But now I’ve gotten more paranoid.  I’m afraid to touch the buttons in the elevator.  I’m aware every time I touch the doorknob to go outside.  If I pass someone on the street and they invade the imaginary six foot radius around me, I become hyper-aware of it.  Friday was a beautiful day, and I went to the nearest park (Madison Square Park) and just sat, read, and watched the world go by, taking occasional photographs.  I called up Mark and convinced him to meet me at the park. We enjoy sitting in the park together, but we both agreed that we’ll probably have to curtail even this seemingly safe activity, as the local news here in New York is reporting truly terrifying numbers.  Yesterday, more than 200 people died from the virus here in New York hospitals. Emergency rooms are overrun, short staffed, and running out of supplies, and the absolute last place I want to be is in one of those ERs. Tomorrow is supposed to be a nice day. As much as I’d like to go to the park, I think I will just go up to the rooftop for some sun and air.  It’s not a roof deck; it’s just a roof. No one ever goes up there, so social distancing won’t be an issue. It’s come to this, I guess. Truly prisoners in our own home.

Today, even though the weather was damp and gloomy, I felt the need to get out.  I decided to head over to 8th avenue to see if the fruit vendor that I like was there today.  He was, and I was able to get some grapes, raspberries, mushrooms, asparagus, mangoes, and clementines, all pretty cheap.  He was wearing a mask and gloves, and I kept my distance as best as I could. My bill was $15, and when he gave me back the change from my twenty, I eyed it suspiciously, as if the five singles were just teeming with virus.  Seriously.

I’ve been saying that the streets are empty, but of course that’s not totally true.  There are always a few people on the street, and the majority of them homeless.

Yesterday I saw a homeless woman who has been in the neighborhood for years.  I haven’t seen her in probably a year, but I see now that she’s still around. She has about 20 shopping carts and Hefty bags worth of belongings, and the way she moves across town is to transport one bag or cart to a new location, and then go back and grab the next one, and then the next one.  She will do this for hours and hours until she’s moved maybe half a block, and then she starts the process all over again. It’s very sad. There is another homeless guy, an Asian man, who has staked out a spot under a scaffold on 6th avenue between 28th and 29th street, and he’s still there. I see that he seems to always have a small stockpile of food next to him; two days ago I saw what looked like two fresh baguettes.  I’m glad to see that he’s getting food somehow. There is one homeless schizophrenic guy who has been in the neighborhood for years. He walks very hunched over. Season after season, year after year, he seems to survive out on the streets here, but I haven’t seen him at all since the pandemic and the social distancing has taken over our lives. I wonder if the homeless know what’s going on. 

Many of them seem to gravitate toward those LinkNYC stations all over the city, and there are constant messages and updates on there, so perhaps they’re reading them, or maybe some city agency has come by and told them why the world seems so different. Their lives are already so difficult.  I can only imagine how this adds another layer of fear and isolation to their lives.

Yesterday, I went shopping for groceries at Fairway.  The store was crowded and there is no way to practice social distancing in that store.

You could actually see the concern in people’s faces as we were forced to pass by each other in the different food aisles and departments.  The store should have a limit to the number of people who are shopping in the store at any one time, and have someone stationed at the door counting the number of people entering and leaving.  I wore a homemade mask, which was basically a bandana, doubled up so that it was basically a two-ply bandana. Some people say that a mask is only necessary for those who are infected. 

 Then I hear some people say that because an infected person might be asymptomatic for a few days and yet be unknowingly spreading the virus, a mask may indeed be helpful in stopping that.  Some people say that if you’re going to wear a mask, that’s one less mask that could be used by hospital workers who really need it. Basically, you can find an array of different ideas and opinions.  I succumbed and bought two masks from a price-gouging guy outside of Eataly on 23rd street and Broadway, for $5.  

If I go outside, I’ll probably wear the bandana.  If I go into a supermarket or bodega, I’ll wear the real mask.  I’m living in the epicenter and I just don’t want to take any chances.

My Facebook news feed is starting to get tedious.  It consists of news articles, angry political commentary, superficial fluff, corny ideas for passing the time in isolation, as well as many attempts at humor.  I have to admit, some of the humor (The Borowitz Report, The Onion) is hilarious. Some friends have sent me a few items that did crack me up. One item contained “best dating pick-up lines to use during this pandemic”. 

• If Covid-19 doesn’t take you out… can I?
• Is that hand sanitizer in your pocket, or are you just happy to be within 6 feet of me?
• You can’t spell virus without U and I
• Do you need toilet paper?  Because baby, I can be your Prince Charmin
• I saw you from across the room.  Stay there. 
• Without you, my life is as empty as the toilet paper aisle in Walmart. 

I’m a rock-n-roll fan, and there was a #CoronavirusBands hashtag game on Twitter of good band names relating to the pandemic:

• Race Against the Vaccine
• The WHO
• Run CDC
• Jessica Symptoms
• Panic at the Costco  
• Wheezer
• The Flu Fighters
• Iron Lung Maiden
• Epidemi Lovato
• Wuhan Clan
• Earth Wind and Fever
• Severe Coldplay
• The Cure

Another great find is this spec script for Seinfeld called “The Quarantine” by Thomas van Kalken

pic.twitter.com/gXo68rejL4

— Seinfeld Current Day (@Seinfeld2000) March 22, 2020

Continue to Part 5