When Will It Be Normal Again?

If you've been reading all the COVID-19 coverage online or watching cable news, you must've seen a title of an article or segment that opines about when will we be normal again? As if "normal" is the same for everyone, but I get the point. Let me start with the answer, then the analysis.

When will we be normal again? Never.

Seriously, never. Or at least never in our lifetime, though a lot of people will eventually return to some variation of their previous "normal." But, unless your head is completely full of air or rocks, you must know that if a pandemic like this could happen and it's not that fatal, imagine one where it is not only virulent but kills a large number of those who become infected.

So, we have to accept the fact that there will be a new normal but even how that will look is hard to predict.

Think about dining out in a restaurant. How many do you go to that are packed cheek to jowl with tables and customers and waitstaff? Probably too many to count, right? If you were the owner, how would you reconfigure it?

Here's what I would do:

• Reservations-only seating
• Staff must be checked daily for temperature and perhaps O2 levels
• Customers must be checked for temperature and O2 levels as well
• While in the restaurant, waitstaff must wear masks and surgical gloves (same for kitchen staff, too)
• Remove half the tables or more to allow for 6' minimum social distancing
• Tables, chairs, and other surfaces need to be wiped down thoroughly after each customer leaves

And even this isn't perfect. What if an asymptomatic person comes into the restaurant? No fever, O2 saturation levels are fine, but they're shedding viruses left and right--how do you prevent this? Sure, on-the-spot testing would help, but even if it was available, who could afford to do that every day for every person passing through the doors?

This is just one example. Think of your own and then you start to see the sheer magnitude that this challenge presents.

So "normal," as we used to know if, is history. What happens going forward is up to us as a race because just returning to our old ways will only open the doors for the same kind of pandemic or even worse--the one that will take out humanity altogether.

And what's the most asinine thing I see now are the covidiots protesting that their liberties are being assaulted. My only words to them are these: get with the program or get ready to lose you life or that of your loved one.

Yours in quarantine,

Michael

Tales from the Loop

As I've noted multiple times in this blog, we've been watching new series as we learn about them from our son or from the internet. After weeks of action movies, we've decided to change the mood a bit and began watching Tales from the Loop, an 8-episode series on Amazon Prime that falls in the realm of surrealistic sci-fi (perhaps a redundant term).


Based on the eerie paintings of 36-year-old Swedish artist Simon Stålenhag, the series explores the lives of residents of Mercer, Ohio, a company town where the "industry" is a device called The Loop that is built underground. From all appearances, The Loop is a particle accelerator and the question viewers will consider is whether the strange happenings a result of the device itself or merely an adjunct of a town filled with engineers and scientists.


But that's only the backdrop. The town itself is drab, but the lives of those living there can hardly be described as such. Though we've only watched three episodes thus far, it seems like each episode, though standalone, feature characters that are interconnected linearly from one episode to the next. Certainly, it's not a movie series in the traditional sense.


On the plus side, the cinematography is beautiful, the soundtrack is tight, and the writing is beyond skilled. Figures and structures in Stålenhag's paintings are faithfully reproduced and integrated with the entire story. Whether some of it is CGI or not (I respective it is, though), it's still quite stunning.


On the minus side, it's very slow. If you're used to your series jump-cutting here and there, lots of car crashes, bullets, and bombs, then you may not really enjoy this series so much. However, if you're looking for a more cerebral viewing experience, I say it's worth a try.


The good news is, according to the showrunner, there is enough material for future seasons of Tales from the Loop, though right now, there's no word whether Amazon's interested in renewing the contract. So much in the air right now with impacts from COVID-19, we'll just have to wait and see.


Yours from the Loop,


Michael

Walk Away, Renée

Everyone has songs that become earworms for them. Some of them are common and seem to cross generational boundaries, at least in my experience. Some examples come to mind: Come On, Eileen and Chechez La Femme are two of them I know are earworms for people other than myself.

Then there's Walk Away, Renée, a 1966 hit song by the pop band The Left Banke. The tune was written by Tony Sansone, Bob Calilli, and Michael Brown, though Brown was the principal writer and keyboardist for the band. This song is one of the worst earworms for me and for years, I didn't know why. Now I have an inkling.

If you're not familiar with this tune, here's an early video of them performing it music video style:

The lyrics:

And when I see the sign that points one way
The lot we used to pass by every day

Just walk away, Renée
You won't see me follow you back home
The empty sidewalks on my block are not the same
You're not to blame

From deep inside the tears that I'm forced to cry
From deep inside the pain that I chose to hide

Just walk away, Renée
You won't see me follow you back home
Now as the rain beats down upon my weary eyes
For me it cries

Just walk away, Renée
You won't see me follow you back home
Now as the rain beats down upon my weary eyes
For me it cries

Your name and mine inside a heart upon a wall
Still finds a way to haunt me, though they're so small

Just walk away, Renée
You won't see me follow you back home
The empty sidewalks on my block are not the same
You're not to blame

Now a bit more about the song before I get into the history.

Walk Away, Renée is classified as one in the "baroque pop" genre, one of many that employed the use of classical music instruments such as strings and harpsichords. Other bands, such as The Beach Boys, The Beatles, Procol Harem, The Zombies released music in this genre, but The Left Banke was an early progenitor of the style.

Michael Brown was only sixteen when he wrote the song, which after reading the lyrics, you wonder how someone so young could be so introspective about matters of the heart. Though unrequited love has long been a topic of pop songs over the entire history of pop music (even prior to the rock era), the lyrics capture the angst missing from many of them, at least to me.

Brown's muse was Renée Fladen, a singer in her own right and the girlfriend of Tom Finn, the band's bassist. According to Brown, he had a major, yet unrequited, crush on Fladen. So much did he love her that when it came time to record the harpsichord part in the studio and finding Fladen there to watch the session, his hands shook so much, he had to leave. Later, he returned to the studio to record the missing part.

In the video above, the blonde walking away during the song's bridge is Renée herself.

I think the reason the song gets in my head and won't leave right away is that I feel the young man's pain in the lyrics, and even though he wasn't the lead singer of the song (Steve Martin Caro was), it's haunting beauty is evident in every syllable. This resonates with me and probably why the song's been covered so many times.

Michael Brown died on March 19, 2015, after a battle with heart disease. Steve Martin Caro died on January 14, 2020, also from heart disease.

Here's another of Michael Brown joining the band for Walk Away, Renée just prior to his death (in 2013). As you can see, he's not physically well and his playing is a bit rusty. But nonetheless, it's a treasure it's been captured for posterity.

RIP, Michael Brown and Steve Martin Caro!

Yours in music,

Michael

Nextdoor.com Exposed!

As I believe I mentioned in previous posts, I belong to NextDoor.com for our local neighborhood. This is a website that allows residents in particular neighborhoods to interact online. There's the usual run of things posted, like items for sale, groups forming, questions about service providers, and the rest. Nothing earth-shattering.

Then there are discussions on other topics of supposed public interest others to participate in and enjoy. Because we live in a very red district in a red (almost purple) state, many of the posts tend toward the political, and they are pro-Trump to the max.

And woe to anyone who dares to offer a contrary opinion! In fact, the MAGA crowd infiltrates discussions started by non-Trumpers and tries to bully everyone into submission with their idiotic Fox News talking points.

This behavior has recently led to the liberal among us to start our own subgroup where we can share our frustrations and disgust with the orange-tinged maniac in the White House. This forum has been a source of relief from reading the threads in the public space.

Of course, these days, the biggest topic of discussion is the anger at the ongoing stay-at-home orders, especially when it comes to restrictions on the use of the common facilities here such as the swimming pool and sports courts.

The management here is strictly adhering to Republican Governor Doug Ducey's restrictions on the entire state, but that doesn't matter to the MAGAts around here. They complain ad nauseam about how unfair it is, it's government overreach, our liberties are being trampled, and all the rest of the BS the right is spewing right now.

The unavailability of the public pool here seems to tweak these crotchety old farts the most, though. They don't swim. They soak and chat. It's where cliques of friends gather together and gossip about other cliques. It's just like high school. Very few of them actually swim.

They're all upset because they can't meet with their tribe at the (literal) watering hole. It's beyond laughable reading the complaints tumbling forth (with misspellings and poor grammar, by the way). There are a few notables who truly love hearing themselves "talk." One woman has started two, maybe three separate threads on the pool and she doesn't even use it (by her own admission)!

I swear, I'll never live in an "active senior living community again." I may be sixty, but my mind isn't old and dusty like these folks, and God willing, will never be.

Yours in amusement,

Michael

UV Light and Disinfectant -- A Descent into the Abyss

Donald Trump is nuts.

There, I said it. For years, the man has exhibited signs of mental illness, primarily malignant narcissism. His current behavior borders on sociopathy, at least according to a number of mental health care professionals, and to my mind, he always has.

However, beginning with his birtherism BS during the Obama years, he's been demonstrating even more symptoms of mental degradation, and since he's become President, based on the words he speaks and the tweets he posts, he has further descended into the abyss with no end in sight.

Some have suggested this is due to years of illegal drug use. Others have posited that it's symptoms of late-stage syphilis. I'm not convinced either of these is true.

Instead, I believe Trump suffers from early-onset dementia, which only tends to exacerbate his already known mental illness.

My mother-in-law suffered from depression (and possibly other issues) and when her dementia began to manifest in earnest, it was not only difficult to differentiate that behavior from her behavior before she went on antidepressants, but it seemed the two worked synergistically (and not in a good way).

Yesterday, Trump seriously--not sarcastically, as he's trying to say now--mused how ingesting/injecting disinfectant and UV light into the body of those infected with COVID-19 should be looked into as a possible treatment.

THIS from a man who was strenuously promoting the use of hydroxychloroquine to treat novel coronavirus, a practice now dismissed by the CDC as potentially fatal based on data from clinical trials. And now he's talking about using Lysol and black lights? IN the body?

There's already been at least one case of someone ingesting disinfectant to get rid of COVID-19, which, of course, landed him in the hospital. Fortunately, he survived this stupidity despite Darwin's theory.

How many more covidiots will do the same because Trump thought it was a good idea?

Serious, people, this guy is without a doubt, 100% certifiable. And yet, he remains in office. Clearly, he's a candidate for invoking the 25th amendment, but he's not going anywhere until we vote him out.

Let's hope we actually do.

Yours in amazement,

Michael 

Bloody Hot

We made the decision to move from the Los Angeles metro area back in 2013 after both my wife and I had suffered through some serious illnesses. Our thought was simple: life's too damn short to spend it working our asses off to pay bills, especially a huge mortgage which, if you ask anybody, is the only kind of mortgage you can get because houses are so damn expenses.

Despite the fact we knew we'd miss Southern California, it turned out to be a smart choice, at least from an economic perspective. The cost of living in California continued to rise in the interposing years since our move. Mounting expenses grew at a much higher rate than income in the same period...basically, a no-win situation.

I had another reason for not wanting to move. Not being close to the "film capital of the world" while I had so many scripts in progress (and in the hopper, so to speak) meant I would be getting out of the game when I hadn't even gotten a chance to make a name for myself in the entertainment business.

Anyway, we had been looking at the Phoenix area for years as the place to retire because the cost of housing and living, in general, is about a third less than Los Angeles. We merely accelerated the timeline by ten years. No biggie.

One thing everyone knows about Phoenix is it's hot as hell during the summer. I'm talking triple-digits-for-weeks-on-end kind of hot. What they don't tell you the heat doesn't dissipate much at night. You can still have 100+ heat at mostly any time of day. But we were naive at the time and figured the similarity in weather between California and Arizona would be acceptable.

It's not. Trust me.

Without relief for such a long period, year-round residents basically shelter in place, only venturing out when necessary. Either that or you travel out of the state for a couple of months--just to escape. Of course, California is a popular destination spot for Arizonans (particularly San Diego). Others, go to Utah and other ski resort areas to take advantage of the lower summer rates.

So, when we saw on the TV weather report that we're about to hit our first triple-digit days, we were dismayed beyond belief. With temps in the 90s this week (as a ramp-up to the 100+ days to come this weekend), we've already shifted our walking time to the morning.

But what will happen when it's too hot for even early in the morning, which is always the case? Without a gym to go to, we're going to have to get creative in ways to get our cardio in.

The problem? We have no ideas right now.

Yours in confusion,

Michael

True Confessions of a Flour Buyer

We did our twice-monthly shopping trip into town yesterday. With our bandana face masks on our faces and surgical gloves on our hands, we stopped store after store to get all the items we would need for a couple more weeks.

We couldn't find many paper products, particularly toilet paper. After more than a month of this, I've concluded that some covidiot is hoarding it all. With any luck, they'll be stuck with it until the end of their days, though more than likely they're selling it on the black market for 10x what it cost him/her.

Think about that. Toilet paper unavailable for over a moment. It boggles the mind.

At one store we went to, a downscale store that caters to the Spanish-speaking community, we hit the jackpot. I was in one aisle, my wife was in another. She hurried to find me to tell me that they had a lot of all-purpose flour on their shelves!

Excited, I followed her and sure enough, there were several bags sitting there. I took a look to make sure there were no signs and picked up three bags. Then we went to check out.

As my masked cashier rang me up, she narrowed her eyes disapprovingly.

"Only two bags," she said.
"Two? There was no sign," I replied. I turned to my wife. "Did you see any sign?"
"No, there was no sign."

The cashier just shook her head and rang us up anyway. I apologized profusely, but I don't think she believed I was being sincere.

Do you know that bothered me for the rest of the day? This is a small store. The same people work there all the time. Save for the fact I was wearing a mask, this cashier knows me. I'm so embarrassed, I don't know if I want to go back there again.

Of course, that's silly. We love that place (the prices are great and they have a wonderful selection of produce). But still, I feel bad even though what I did wasn't intentional.

Okay, now that I've confessed my sins to you, gentle reader (👋), I'll move onto the rest of our trip.

The summary we were able to score chicken, steaks, and ground beef, along with fresh produce. No TP, as noted. No Excedrin, but there was a manufacturing issue before the COVID-19 pandemic broke out (we ended up getting the store brand from Walgreens). No Chlorox II, for some reason. No hydrogen peroxide, either.

So, reviewing all this, I'd say we did pretty good. Now in a couple of weeks, when prescriptions need to be refilled, we'll be going back out again.

Yours in retail bliss,

Michael