Day 38

It's been a while since we've let the Video Games Desk get anything to say, but they've been a tremendous help getting us through this stay-at-home pandemic.  

At the start of March, back when we still didn't know how crazy all this was going to get, we started playing Hitman 2.  We played for nearly the entire month and still had a long, long way to go before we ultimately burned out on it.  We set it aside for a while and started Far Cry Primal back on March 27.

Primal is set in prehistoric, neolithic time and your character, equipped with a bow and arrow, some clubs, and a spear, battles other Stone Age tribesmen as well as woolly rhinoceroses, saber-tooth tigers, and mammoths.   It was fun at first but after some 60-odd hours I began to burn out on that game too, well before I was finished.

Hitman 2 seemed like a breath of fresh air when I recently picked it back up again after a month of Primal.

Lately, I've been playing both games, usually a morning or early afternoon round of Hitman and a late afternoon or evening session of Primal.  I found that by having another game available as an outlet if I got frustrated by the tedium of the first has helped me enjoy both games more.  Don't feel like sneaking my way into some drug lord's headquarters again?  No problem, I'll grab a spear and take on a dire-wolf.  Tired of hiding out in caves?  No problem, I'll infiltrate an auto-racing cartel in Miami.   

The routine lately has been to alternate walks around the park with rounds of playing one game or the other and episodes of various Netflix series.  The rhythm of the routine fills the day and passes the time.  

Today, they announced the next Assassin's Creed game.  It will apparently be set in England during Viking times and will be released at the end of this year, should civilization make it to year's end. To be honest, I'm ready to start playing it right now.

Day 37

Worldwide, the coronavirus pandemic has infected more than 3,100,000 people, killing at least 225,300 people in 177 countries,

In the United States, more than one million people have been infected and at least 60,400 have died, more than in all the years of the Vietnam War.

Here in Georgia, the virus was infected 24,000 people, roughly 2.3 people for every 1,000, and killed 1,079 people, roughly 1 of  every 23 people infected.  Despite these grim statistics, restaurants, bowling alleys, tattoo parlors, and spas are open again for business.

Atlanta's Fulton County has suffered 114 deaths from the virus, with 0.27% of the population infected.  The number of new cases is doubling every 26 days.  

Here in this pile of bricks on a hill that I call home, no one has been infected yet.  One human and two felines have so far successfully managed to shelter in place and social distance their way to safety.  So far.

I walk two miles a day around the park across from my home, a quarter-mile loop.  Two laps, four times a day.  I cross to the opposite side of the street if I so much as see another person approaching. In between my laps, I pass the time indoors reading, listening to music, playing video games, and bingeing on Netflix.  And blogging.

I got up early one morning and braved the supermarket while they were stocking the shelves, and have the whole toilet paper and paper towels problem taken care of, at least for now.

Even under the best of circumstances, a vaccine for the virus is still at least a year away, probably more.  But today it was announced that treatment with an experimental antiviral drug, remdesivir, may speed recovery in victims of the virus. The FDA is likely to issue an emergency approval for remdesivir, and eventually the drug could be the first approved treatment for covid-19.

Hope.

We Are Not In The Same Boat

You've probably already read this elsewhere (it's all over social media), but if not and just because I wanted to include it in this blog, here's a timely piece written by an unknown author:

I heard that we are all in the same boat, but it's not like that. We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat.

Your ship could be shipwrecked and mine might not be. Or vice versa.

For some, quarantine is optimal. A moment of reflection, of re-connection, easy in flip flops, with a cocktail or coffee.  For others, this is a desperate financial & family crisis.

For some that live alone they're facing endless loneliness. While for others it is peace, rest & time with their mother, father, sons & daughters.

With the $600 weekly increase in unemployment some are bringing in more money to their households than they were working.  Others are working more hours for less money due to pay cuts or loss in sales.

Some families of 4 just received $3400 from the stimulus while other families of 4 saw $0.

Some were concerned about getting a certain candy for Easter while others were concerned if there would be enough bread, milk and eggs for the weekend.

Some want to go back to work because they don't qualify for unemployment and are running out of money.  Others want to kill those who break the quarantine.

Some are home spending 2-3 hours/day helping their child with online schooling while others are spending 2-3 hours/day to educate their children on top of a 10-12 hour workday.

Some have experienced the near death of the virus, some have already lost someone from it and some are not sure if their loved ones are going to make it.  Others don't believe this is a big deal.

Some have faith in God and expect miracles during this 2020. Others say the worst is yet to come.

So, friends, we are not in the same boat. We are going through a time when our perceptions and needs are completely different.

Each of us will emerge, in our own way, from this storm. It is very important to see beyond what is seen at first glance. Not just looking, actually seeing.

We are all on different ships during this storm experiencing a very different journey.

Trees

When we look at trees, we speculate about the conditions and the circumstances that led to their appearance, but we don't pass judgement on the tree.  We see a tree that's twisted and gnarled, and we think, "That tree was beaten hard by the wind for many years," but we don't blame the tree for the wind.  We see another tree that's stunted and small, and we think, "That tree grew on bare rock.  It's amazing how life perseveres even in the face of adversity," but we don't blame the tree for the adversity.  We might see a third tree that's stately and tall and think, "Some acorn found itself some good soil and sun and grew to this big tree," but we don't praise the tree for selecting the sun and the soil.

We're not that way with people.  We see someone homeless on the street, and part of us blames the person for bad decisions and lifestyle choices we think they might have made.  We see another person that's diseased or deformed and we want to avoid that person partially out of fear of contracting whatever that person has, but mostly because that person makes us feel uncomfortable about ourselves.  We see another person, healthy, wealthy, and good-looking, and think "There's a person who's done well in life," and grant them privileges and waive burdens they otherwise would have to bear.

I've been spending a lot of my pandemic shelter-in-place time walking around the block in my neighborhood, and noticing small details about the trees and wildlife that I've somehow missed for some 15 years now.  I've actually come to not only appreciate but to actually love my neighborhood more than ever before.  The run of beautiful weather we've been having, notwithstanding the all-too-frequent tornado watches, hasn't hurt my appreciation.

I have noticed in the past that one certain tree across from the house next door to mine had some names and other graffiti carved into it.  The son of my elderly neighbors once told me that he remembers carving the names when he was a kid back in the 1960s.  I imagine carving initials into a tree is probably considered "cruel" in some circles and at best "unnecessary" in others, but I don't find fault with the kids who did the carving - I did much the same thing when I was their age and the tree frankly seems fine.   Now, I actually like and can appreciate the unusual texture it gives the trunk of that particular tree, an unusual patina compared to the rest of its neighbors.

Another tree just a few yards down has the name "Patton" carved into it.  Today, I met the carver and learned the story.  While I was on one of my many walks of the day, I saw that a man had pulled his car over and was taking a picture of the carving.  As I passed, I politely introduced myself and he volunteered that he had carved the tree back in 2000.  He used to live in the neighborhood, next door to me but on the other side of my elderly neighbors whose son had carved the other tree, and Patton was his daughter.  Today, he had dropped her off for an appointment at nearby Piedmont Hospital (I didn't ask why), and while he was waiting, he wanted to get a picture to let her know that her name was still on the tree.  We chatted for a moment or two and dropped a few neighborhood names, and then he was on his way.

Now, whenever I pass the tree, I know that there's a woman by that name and the tree bears testimony not only to her existence, but to a father's love for his daughter.

Lessons learned from the pandemic:

1. It's a mistake to rely on employers to provide our health insurance.  When a pandemic hits, businesses shut down and people lose their jobs - along with the health insurance they most need at that time.  Without access to affordable health care, the pandemic lasts even longer and claims more victims, both with and without  health insurance.


2. The pandemic thrives on economic inequality.  The poor and minorities have a higher propensity toward malnutrition, diabetes, obesity, and other underlying conditions and are more likely to suffer and die from a virus like covid-19.  But the poor and minorities are also the ones most likely to be providing essential services like driving delivery trucks, sanitation, cashiers, and emergency response.  When a pandemic hits, it takes away the base, the very foundation, that society is built upon.  We'll get by fine with a few less architects and stock analysts - we have a problem when our power goes out and there's no one left to repair the lines.


3. As populations continue to rise and as we pack ourselves into denser and denser cities, our health is more of a public resource than ever before.  When our neighbors get sick, our probability of becoming infected is greater than ever.  Your microbiome and my microbiome are interconnected like never before.


4. People who hoard resources, be it ventilators, face masks, toilet paper, or food, will be remembered in history as the villains of this pandemic.  Until the resources are equitably shared so we're all equally protected, the virus will continue to thrive and won't go away.


5. When I go to the supermarket, I have to don PPE like I were going to a hazmat site.  Nitrile gloves and a dust mask, and because the dust mask fogs my glasses, I have to coat the lenses with a film of soapy water before I leave and let them air dry.  The whole preparation takes a good 15 minutes.  I'm experienced at doing this - I used to work in hazmat response - and I still find it unnerving.  I can't imagine what it's like to the uninitiated.  


6. Impermanence is swift; life-and-death is the great matter.  We should appreciate the gift of life while we have it, and not cling to the illusion that it will never end.

Dreaming of the Masters

Ornette Coleman's Dancing In Your Head album came out in 1977 while I was in college.  At the time, it was considered a controversial record.

Even among my fellow university jazz aficionados, the album was not well received.  "It's not only not jazz," I was told, "it's not even music!" 

"Just . . . listen . . . to it," they complained, to which I replied, "Yes, just listen to it!"  Polyrhythms and harmolodic funk were still relatively new then, and it's taken literally decades for the public to catch up to what Coleman was doing in 1977.

Theme From a Symphony was the album's opening cut, and got some limited airplay on WBUR's late-night jazz programming.

Day 32

I'm not going to talk about the pandemic today.  I'm not going to talk about the biggest current event of my lifetime, one that impacts my own, personal life more directly than Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, or even Vietnam ever had.  I'm not going to talk about the virus that may very well have a major impact on world history, that may turn out to be a toppler of empires, the catalyst that precipitates the end of civilization, the Exterminating Angel, the Destroyer of Delights.  I'm not going to talk about it.

I just realized I have nothing left to say.  

Day 31

Cheatin' Brian Kemp, the man who stole the Georgia election away from Stacey Abrams, apparently didn't bother informing mayors about his decision before announcing that the businesses most likely to spread coronavirus - salons, bowling alleys, tattoo parlors, and so on - will be open for business tomorrow.  Georgia's shelter-in-place order doesn't end until April 30 but Kemp is reopening nonessential businesses almost a week earlier, which would encourage Georgians to break his own order. 

Trump hung Kemp out to dry for his decision during yesterday's coronavirus briefing and when even Donald Trump thinks you’re stupid, you’re probably Brian Kemp.  According to Stephen Robinson of Wonkette, "The president, who never met a mad scheme he didn't like, denounced Kemp's plan to turn Georgia into a statewide morgue — even though Kemp was clearly, obviously, transparently reopening ridiculous businesses that will most spread coronavirus in order to butter up Trump. Trump's the man who egged on the protesters demanding we 'reopen' the states. Now all of a sudden, when a sycophant does what he demanded, he's President Measure Twice Cut Once."  

As Trump put it during yesterday's briefing: 

I told the governor of Georgia, Brian Kemp, that I disagree strongly with his decision to open certain facilities, which are in violation of the Phase 1 guidelines, for the incredible people of Georgia. They're incredible. I love those people. They're great. They've been strong, resolute. But at the same time, [Kemp] must do what he thinks is right. I want him to do what he thinks is right. But I disagree with him on what he's doing.

Trump said it was “too soon" to reopen spas, beauty salons, tattoo parlors, and barbershops.  "I love those people who use all those things . . . I love them. They can wait a little bit longer . . . just a little bit, not much. Because safety has to predominate."

Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms said she was “perplexed" by Kemp's choice to reopen now and didn't think it was "based on anything that is logical." Savannah Mayor Van Johnson slammed Kemp as “reckless."  Even South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham, who suddenly realized that Georgia was a neighboring state, tweeted, "I have great respect for Governor Kemp and believe that future re-openings can occur rather quickly but we must get Phase I right."

Meanwhile, Georgia is in its third tornado watch in the last 10 days. There was a brief thundershower this morning but it passed quickly and without incident, and the rain has since let up for much of the day.  A second wave of storms is forecast to hit later tonight, but it looks like the worst of it is hitting south Georgia and missing Atlanta.  That sucks for the people of Albany, Georgia, who are already suffering one of the nation's highest mortality rates from covid-19 even before Cheatin' Brian Kemp opened up the nail salons and massage parlors, but so far "only" severe thunderstorms are forecast for Atlanta.

Day 30

Day 29

First of all, yes, Georgia Republican Gov. Brian Kemp really does wear a fleece that says "Brian Kemp, The Governor of Georgia" on it.  

Monday, in a move that breaks from the majority of state leaders and defies the warnings of many public health officials, Kemp announced  that certain businesses in Georgia can reopen this week. Specifically, he said that fitness centers, bowling alleys, tattoo studios, barbers, hair and nail salons, and massage parlors can reopen as early Friday, April 24, causing many Georgians to wonder if Kemp knows there are other businesses in the state other than massage parlors, tattoo studios, bowling alleys and barber shops.  Theaters and restaurants will be allowed to open on Monday, April 27, while bars and night clubs will remain closed for now.

Not April 30th when his previous but belated shelter-in-place order would have expired.  Not May 1 when Trump's national order runs out.  This Friday, April 24, because why not?

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Brian Kemp cheated his way into office by continuing to act as Secretary of State while running in the very election his office was in charge of supervising.  As Secretary of State, Kemp nullified the registrations of thousands of voters, mostly black and Latinx, while he was running against a woman of color (the formidable Stacey Abrams).  Kemp ran a campaign ad where he pointed a shotgun at a teenage boy and another where he said he may have to use his pickup truck to round up "illegals" on his own.  He campaigned as the "trumpiest" candidate in the race, as Georgia's home-grown version of the Donald.

Despite enormous pressure otherwise, including an endorsement from the Donald himself for a different candidate, he picked the politically inexperienced multi-millionaire Kelly Loeffler for the Senate seat vacated by Johnny Isakson.  Loeffler promptly got caught with her hand in the cookie jar after it was learned that she dumped stock after a closed-door Senate hearing on the coronavirus pandemic, although she continued to publicly say that there was no crisis, everything was under control.

And his coup de grace, the crowning achievement of his record of dumbness, was declaring at the beginning of April that it was only learned "within the past 24 hours" that the coronavirus can be transmitted by people without visible symptoms (Dr. Fauci  told us that in a late January press briefing, with Kemp's precious Donald standing right next to him).   

Stupid is as stupid does, and in this case, Kemp's stupidity is going to get his constituents killed.  It's an act of criminally negligent homicide, and I can only hope that I'm not one of the victims.  Make no mistake about it, the death rate here in Georgia - both in total numbers and in percentage - will rise.

Some say he's doing it to curry favor with his boyfriend and role model, the Donald.  Others say it's to purge the unemployment roles.  Low-wage workers can't continue receiving unemployment benefits if they willingly choose not to work. Kemp is forcing them to decide to either starve or contract a highly infectious and physically debilitating illness. 

Whatever the motives, its reckless and irresponsible.  He's made it that much more dangerous to live in this state, where, by the way, its legal to carry concealed weapons in all of the businesses listed above.  

I don't want to sound overdramatic, but it may get me, a Georgia resident, killed.   But at least I'll die comforted by the knowledge that Kemp's approval ratings with the MAGA base is solid. 

Day 28

The death toll in New York City from the coronaviris pandemic has now surpassed 10,000 people.  

Ten thousand people.  In a city of 8.4 million.  That's more than one per thousand.

One out of every thousand New Yorkers have died from covid-19.  That's beyond tragic.  That's bordering on the unthinkable.

Impermanence is swift; life-and-death is the great matter.  What was here today is gone tomorrow.  

My heart goes out to everyone who's lost someone to this awful disease, this opportunistic killer. Words can't express the sorrow and tragedy.

Stay safe, my surviving friends.  Wash your hands and stay inside.

Please.

Day 27

Demonstrators across the country violated social-distancing orders to call for the reopening of states and the American economy.  Yesterday alone, people gathered in Indianapolis, Annapolis, Austin, Carson City, Salt Lake City, Wisconsin, and elsewhere.  

I don't agree with the protesters and personally feel that the only way to get the country, nay the world, back on track is to continue to "flatten the curve," increase testing and exposure tracing, and properly supply hospitals and the front-line workers with the PPE and equipment they need to treat the sick and the infected.  But that's just my opinion.

What I find upsetting are my liberal and progressive friends and acquaintances on social media making fun on the protesters.  "Good," they've written, "let them all break quarantine and catch the covid-19.  Darwinian selection.  They many fewer Republican voters come November." 

First of all, while I know they're not seriously wishing death on those who disagree with them, they're still blaming the behavior on the protester's ignorance and they're not listening to what the protesters are actually saying.  Sure, there are some yahoos in the crowd saying that the pandemic isn't real or that the threat is overstated, and the so-called "president" is unnecessarily politicizing the protests. But others are saying that they're aware of the risks, but their lives are in limbo, they're out of food and money, and they're willing to face the dangers to return to work in order to feed their families. A $1,200 stimulus check helps, sure, but they've got a spouse and children and elderly parents to take care of, and $1,200 won't cut it given how long the shut-down is predicted to last.

Again, I disagree, but I'm sympathetic to their plight.  I don't wish death, either tongue-in-cheek or real, on them.  I wish that they had a real social safety net that wouldn't make them have to choose between bringing a deadly virus into their home or watching their children starve.  

If only.  If we only had a guaranteed living wage, payable to workers even when their employer goes out of business, this wouldn't exist.  If we only hadn't stigmatized "socialism" to the point where many Americans think there's something shameful if not downright subversive about accepting financial assistance.  If we had only earmarked for the workers even a small portion of the trillions of bail-out dollars being provided to the large corporations, without worrying if some of the workers would be getting more money from the assistance than they were getting whilst employed.

I'm not optimistic about our future.  Viruses have bought down empires throughout history.  The fall and decline of the Roman Empire was due as much to a virus as to Vandals and Visigoths.  Viruses, not Spanish conquistadors, bought down the Mayans and Aztecs.  The Black Plague decimated Europe, and Asian nations have flourished and faded based on the whims of microbes.

Even now, the supply chain is breaking down because of the pandemic.  Supermarkets ran out of toilet paper back in mid-March and still can't fill the empty shelves.  Meat-processing plants have been hit particularly hard, and slaughterhouses are closing due to lack of workers.  While this is arguably good for cattle, meat is a staple of many Americans' diet and it would be foolish optimism to think the supply-chain breakdown will limit itself to just meat production.  Delivery truck drivers are falling sick,  factories are shuttered, farmers are forced to dispose of their crops due to lack of markets, and no one will soon have money left to buy the few consumer goods still available.

I'm not saying we're all going to die from the coronavirus.  But the virus is exploiting the weaknesses already inherent in late-stage capitalist America, and the coming economic depression will impede the reopening of shuttered factories, abandoned processing plants, and idle farmland.  And all this while, we've been ignoring climate change, and the survivors of the pandemic, weakened and stressed by the depression, will have little recourse against the inevitable floods and droughts and wildfires and extreme weather events due to climate change.

The covid-19 pandemic isn't the end of the world.  But it may be the beginning of the end of America as we knew it.

Dreaming of the Masters

Irreversible Entanglements are the worthy successor to Sun Ra and Ornette Coleman, Max Roach and Abbey Lincoln, James Baldwin, Amiri Baraka, and Maya Angelou, and Charles Mingus and, yes, even John Coltrane.

Keeping the "freedom" in free jazz, Irreversible Entanglements are posed to be the next standard bearers for Great Black Music into the 21st Century.

Day 25

In wildly unrelated news, the influential music website, Pitchfork, which reviews and scores albums on a scale of 1 to 10, gave the new Fiona Apple LP, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, a perfect 10.  It's the first 10 they've scored in ten years, and only the second in the last 20.

I've been listening to the album on repeat all day today and I have to say this:  They're right.  It's fascinating, brilliant, and one of the most original albums I've heard in years.

Reviews last year were also correct about the video game Fallout 76.  It was dreadful - a buggy, uninspired mess.

I read that they've made some major improvements to the game and have issued an update called Fallout Wastelanders to address many of the game's shortcomings.  I heard the update is being offered for free to those who bought the original game, which is a nice compensation to those of us who suffered through the original. 

Today I opened the app for the video-game retailer Steam, and found a copy of Wastelanders ready for download in my queue.  But to my surprise, I saw that they also gave me a copy of the very original Fallout game, as well as Fallout 2 and something called Fallout Tactics.  All for free.

Three free games and a free update to a flawed game.  That's a nice gesture to fans during this shelter-in-place quarantine time, when music, Netflix, and video games are all that's keeping some of us from going insane.

And yes, climate change is real.

Day 24

In the past, the ROM used some of his free time to watch the House hearings on the impeachment of our so-called "president."  He even watched the so-called impeachment "trial" in the Senate. 

But the spectacle of the "president's" daily two-hour-plus "briefings" on the Trump flu response is a bridge too far.  The ROM did watch parts of some of them, but it's just too painful.   The lies, the misdirection, the egomania, the vitriol and open animosity towards the free press - it's all too much to bear.  

But during some of my brief tune-ins this week, here is what I did hear and see.  On Monday, the "president" opened the briefing with what I have to assume was an attempt to express empathy over the tornadoes that ravaged the south the night before.  But the words that came out of his mouth were, and I quote:

"It's a tough deal. It was a bad, bad level. That was a bad group. That's as high as it gets. It was bad grouping of tornadoes. Something that's something incredible, the power."

Such eloquence!  Such depth and nuance!  But more disturbing, during that same conference I saw the "president" claim he had total authority over the states, and that the powers of the president are total.  "When somebody is the president of the United States," he said, "the authority is total. And that's the way it's got to be."

On Wednesday, he threatened to suspend Congress because he felt his judicial appointments weren't getting confirmed quickly enough.  Bizarrely, he blamed the Democrats, while confirmation is the responsibility of the Republican-controlled Senate.

This is deeply disturbing.  In third-world countries, tin-pot dictators seize on calamities and strife to declare "absolute" power and to dissolve parliaments.  Trump is following suit.  While he did back off his threat to force governors to end lock-downs are restart the economy (as if he could), it was clear during the briefing that he sincerely believed his authority had no checks or balances, and that he was a Supreme Leader.  While there is a legal provision for a president to suspend Congress when a stalemate threatens national security, it has never been invoked in the history of our country and I will argue that Donnie Douchebag's appointments not getting confirmed at the pace he would like constitutes a "national emergency" that would warrant invoking the statute for the first time.

But wait, there's more.  He's also threatening to withhold or withdraw financial support from the WHO because he's now upset that they didn't challenge China's initial response to the pandemic the way he would have liked.  Remember last November, when he got impeached for withholding financial aid to Ukraine for not investigating his political rival (or at least announcing the intention to investigate his political rival)?  This WHO debacle is basically the same thing.  Setting aside the obvious point on the wisdom of defunding the preeminent world health organization during a global pandemic, how is that not the same kind of corruption as the Ukraine scandal?  He expects the world to tow his line and perform political favors for him, or else he will withdraw financial support already approved by the American people through their congressional representatives.

What now?  Oh, great!  He's having the EPA roll back standards for emissions of mercury from power plants and oil refineries.  Loosening environmental protections at a time when we're being ravaged by a virus that preys on the weakened and the immune-compromised is as stupid as . . .well, defunding the WHO during a global pandemic!  

We're not even going to dignify the remarks made by some in his cabinet and staff that an unspecified number of Americans are going to have to die from the coronavirus as collateral damage for getting the economy back on track again.  

During the campaign, Trump famously said that he could shoot someone in the face on Fifth Avenue and get away with it.  He's now killing the American public in broad daylight, and his base still isn't abandon the fanatical death cult around him.

Meanwhile, the weather's delightful outside today!  I already "walked the dogs" twice today and may once more before this lovely day is over.

Anything to avoid watching today's press briefing.

When The World Is Sick

Day 22

Everyone knows the AMC television show The Walking Dead is filmed here in Atlanta.  Virtually everyone in the city has either played a zombie on the show at one time or another, has an offer to play a zombie on the show, or knows someone who's played a zombie on the show.

Much of the show is filmed at the former Fort McPherson, now the site of Tyler Perry Studios. But other scenes are shot elsewhere in the state.  The iconic opening shot of Sheriff Rick Grimes riding a horse on an empty, inbound lane into the city while abandoned cars clog the outbound lane was shot on Freedom Parkway from the Jackson Street Bridge. 

Today, we don't have a zombie apocalypse, at least not yet (after Sunday night's tornadoes, I'm not counting anything out), but the covid-19 pandemic has emptied the city streets and today, both the inbound and outbound lanes of Freedom Parkway look like the poster shot of The Walking Dead. 

Here's the Intown Connector, the central artery of the city where Interstate Highways 75 and 85 are merged into one, usually perpetually traffic-clogged road, now almost completely empty while everyone is sheltering in place:

Here's Atlanta's signature Peachtree Street, very close to where I live, also free of traffic:

Peachtree Street in midtown in front of the Fox Theater, now shuttered through at least May and most likely quite a bit longer:

Midtown's North Avenue, also now free of traffic:

 There are no crowds at the airport either.  The waiting time at security is now effectively zero:

But there are signs of hope.  Literally, signs.  Remember the Jackson Street Bridge over Freedom Parkway from the first picture up on top?  Someone hung a banner of encouragement for Atlanta's health-services workers from the bridge:

And now, every night, first the Marriott Marquis and then later the downtown Hilton as well, illuminate heart-shaped symbols and the word "Hope" as signals of encouragement .

I've seen pictures of similar scenes in New York, L.A., Chicago and elsewhere.  Without all the traffic, everything is much quieter, the air is noticeably clearer, and wildlife is returning.  Everyone wants business to resume and the world to go back to normal like before, but it is nice to also pause and appreciate the eerie serenity of a city in lock down.

None of these pictures are my own photography and most of them are from the r/Atlanta subReddit site.  The.original photographers, whose names I've since lost, are commended for their artistry, and the on-line posting of their work is most appreciated.

A powerful storm front raged through the State of Georgia last night.  Tornadoes touched down in northwest Georgia and parts of metro Atlanta, and the ones in the northwest part of the state killed five people, some in a  trailer park and one in his home when a tree fell on his house.

I didn't get much sleep Saturday night anticipating the storm.  I was absolutely convinced I was going to lose power - it seems I always do in a big storm.  The only question would be for how long.  It's bad enough to lose electricity in the home but it's particularly challenging during a shelter-in-place quarantine.  It's not like you can go to Starbucks to kill a couple of hours, or hang in the local sports bar until the power comes back on.

My gas stove uses an electric spark lighter, but that wouldn't be a problem - I can get it started with a match or a lighter.  My electric oven, though, would be useless without power.  So I got up Sunday and immediately started baking all the food that would need baking - basically a couple of casseroles.  I could eat them cold, no problem, but couldn't very well cook them in a black out.  I figured I had about six to eight ready-to-eat meals in the event of an extended power outage.

The first wave of the storm came through around 2 p.m. Sunday afternoon, but it wasn't much of a threat - the big event was to come overnight on Sunday and into early Monday morning.  But I didn't lose power during the afternoon front, so that was a good start.

The evening news was covering the effects of the storm in Mississippi and adjacent Alabama.  Six already dead in Mississippi, tornadoes touching down in Alabama.  The radar was even picking up debris clouds from tornadoes 5,000 feet about the ground in the northern part of Georgia. Not comforting news as you're getting ready to call it a night.

I finally went to bed to the ominous sound of distant thunder Sunday night, and I couldn't sleep.  I know it's not completely rational and a remnant of back when I had some large trees behind the house (since taken down), but when a big storm comes through, I feel safer sleeping on the sofa in the den than in my bedroom.  I imagine that if a tree were to hit my house, statistically it's more likely to strike somewhere near the center of the house (i.e, the bedroom) than an end (the den).  The thunder was getting louder and the rainfall more intense, so I grabbed a blanket and moved to the den.

Thinking that I might have to abandon the house quickly if a tree were to come down, I slept in my clothes, even still wearing shoes.  I didn't want to be running out of the house in the middle of a storm barefoot, without my wallet or cell phone.  I had everything right there where I needed it, just in case of the worst.

I still couldn't sleep though, if for no other reason than the storm was just so damn loud.  Plenty of thunder, plenty of hard rain, plenty of pine cones and branches bouncing off the roof.

By the way, this was the first big test of my new roof, and it held up just fine.  Most people take their roof for granted and don't worry about whether they'll stay dry under it, but leaks prior to roof replacement had me worried.   No leaking last night, though.

By around 3:00 a.m., I heard the rain taper out.  The sound of thunder was once again distant, and it sounded like the front had passed.  I checked the weather app on my phone and saw on the radar map that the storm had indeed passed.  The hourly forecast listed the precipitation probability as "0%" for the rest of the night and on into Monday.

I had made it through the storm without a tree falling and without even losing power.  Relieved, I went back to the bedroom, got undressed, and finally went to bed.

I woke up again at 4:00 a.m. to the sound of wind and rain.  At first, I tried to convince myself it was just the sound of the furnace (the forecast said the storm was over) but there was no mistaking it - the storm was back.  I checked my phone again and the radar map now showed that a new cell had formed and it was right over me.  The new hourly forecast for 4 a.m. now said "100%" chance of rain.

It was back, so I returned to the sofa once again, but I couldn't get myself to put my shoes back on. By the time I settled in, though, the second - and mercifully last - cell had passed, and I was back in my bed by 6 a.m.

In all, I'd be surprised if I got two hours of sleep last night or more than about four hours on Saturday night.  It felt like it all day today, too.  But I had power, I had internet, no trees had come crashing down through my roof, and no water was flooding my kitchen floor.  I'll take tired over any of those any day of the week.  

Bonus points:  for six hour there, I wasn't thinking about the coronavirus.

"We are looking at the threat of two separate episodes of severe weather on Sunday with the first taking place on Sunday afternoon with a stronger episode late Sunday night into the overnight and early morning hours on Monday.  The better chance for severe storms at this point looks to be during the Sunday overnight hours. 

Overnight storm timing is especially dangerous as tornadoes that occur after midnight at more than twice as deadly than at other times of the day.''

Widespread damaging wind gusts, capable of bringing down trees and power lines, are the biggest concern with this round of severe weather.  An area of significantly favorable tornado development is expected in the western half of Georgia, as outlined in the map above. This includes much of metro Atlanta and points westward.

An even higher chance for strong long-tracked tornadoes exists for parts of Mississippi and Alabama.

Any tornadoes that develop have the possibility of being extremely dangerous, long-lived and destructive.

The first round of strong to severe storms is expected to come through late Sunday afternoon.

Let's see if we survive the next 24 hours . . . .

Dreaming of the Masters

Long before the coronavirus epidemic and long before it's devastating impact on Lombardy, the late, great jazz visionary and keyboard provocateur Don Pullen (1941-1995) had already written the eulogy for Milan.

If I were to make a mix tape of songs I wanted played at my funeral, Milano Strut would be at the top of the list.

A dozen years after Pullen first recorded the song, the jazz titan David Murray performed it with him on the closing track on his terrific 1991 LP, Shakill's Warrior.

I'm crying . . . 

Day 18

Piedmont Hospital - just down the road from me - displaying a message of hope at the height of the pandemic.

How long will it be and what needs to happen before mothers are willing to send their children back to school?

How long will it be and what needs to happen before people are ready to board airplanes again and spend several hours in the company of complete strangers breathing recirculated air?

In the best of all possible worlds, the front-line workers - the nurses and doctors, the medical technicians and associates, the sanitation workers, the checkout clerks and cashiers,  the utility workers and street-sweepers - will emerge as the new heroes,  what the U.S. Marines were to Iwo Jima, what the G.I.s were to to the world wars.

The AIDS pandemic forever changed the rules of intimacy and sex.  I believe this pandemic will forever change the rules of social conduct.

Lets's not go back to "normal."  Fuck "normal." It never worked for many of us, anyway.  

Instead, let's move forward  - whatever that may turn out to mean.

Day 17

Shelter-In-Place Involuntary Quarantine, Day 17:  I've stopped using the Beltline trail for walking exercise.  Too crowded - the very antithesis of "social isolation."  The Mayor even cracked down and has put hourly restrictions on trail use - 7 am to 11: reserved fro seniors over 65; 11- 2 pm: open for exercise: 2 - 6 pm: pedestrian use for reaching destinations only.  Thanks for the early hours, Mayor (that was sarcastic - I can barely get moving by 11 am, much less get my fat ass on the trail).

Instead, I just walk around the little park across the street from my house.  It's only a ¼-mile loop and if I want to get my former Beltline-level three mile walk in, I'd have to walk around it a dozen times. That would get boring, and besides, I'd lose count ("is that 9 going on 10, or 10 going on 11?").

Instead, I walk the dogs a couple of times a day.  "But wait," you say, "you have cats, not dogs."  I'm not talking canine dogs, the dogs I walk are my feet, as in "boy, my dogs are tired."  I walk my dogs a couple of times around the park a couple of times a day - no leash required, no pooper scooper (at least I haven't needed one yet).  

Picture above is Spring Valley Creek, a tributary to Tanyard Creek, along my walk.  Ironic to see the vernal return of life in this springtime pandemic season.  In a few more weeks, all that undergrowth will completely cover the creek, and the stream will slide unseen beneath all the greenery.  The azaleas below are in a neighbor's yard and are my only picture of the blossoms this year - mine bloomed and fell so quickly, I never got a chance to take, much less post, a picture. 

Zen Master Dogen once said that "flowers, while cherished, fade and weeds, while despised, flourish."  So true this year - the azalea blossoms came and went in two snaps of the finger, but this quarantine season of sheltering in place sometimes seems likes it's lasting forever.

Day 16

To be clear, Athens, Georgia is not some sleepy little Southern town where the sidewalks get rolled up at 8:00 pm.  It's a lively, vibrant college town, and I've come out of shows there well past midnight so find scores of pedestrians out on the streets, filling the patios in front of restaurants and bars, and cruising the streets. 

To be sure, many of those pedestrians were college students, and most of them had already left town when classes at the University of Georgia were shut down, but the video still shows that people are, in fact, sheltering in place.  New York is showing some signs that the rate of new infections is slowing down due to people self-isolating, China is now able to reopen some formerly shut-down precincts, and an influential model used to predict virus-related deaths was recently revised  downwards - meaning fewer deaths - due to the effect of shelter-in-place rules.  

It's grim right now, but the quarantine is working.  Please stay at it people - our lives depend on you doing nothing.

History Lesson

Remember Barack Obama?  Now, there was a president!  Such grace, such intelligence, such compassion!  A once-in-a-lifetime leader, the likes of which we will probably never see again.

Unfortunately, in his two terms of presidency, President Obama was all-too-frequently called upon after the tragedy of mass shootings to use his enormous empathy to soothe and console the American people. But each time he rose to the occasion and spoke from the heart.   Remember that time he sang Amazing Grace after the shooting at a Charleston church?  Remember the Together We Thrive speech after the Tucson shootings?  Remember all those moving eulogies and memorials he was forced to so compassionately deliver?

Now comes Donald Trump, a man so full of himself that he has yet to express compassion or words of comfort for his fellow Americans who have died from the coronavirus.  A man who after admitting that 100,000 people could die this week alone from the virus immediately launched into an attack on his political rivals and petty grievances, including those in the room with him to report on his announcements.  A man who when asked what he would say to Americans who are scared, answered "I say you are a terrible reporter"? The closest he's come to expressing sympathy was for British PM Boris Johnson, someone he personally knows and who has been "appropriately" respectful to Trump, at least in Trump's eyes. 

The contrast couldn't be clearer than when we consider how the two men (Obama and Trump) responded to the threat of a pandemic.  

In December 2013, an 18-month-old boy in Guinea was bitten by a bat and developed Ebola, and soon there were five more fatal cases. The virus then spread beyond the Guinea borders into neighboring Liberia and Sierra Leone.  In July 2014, President Obama activated the CDC's Emergency Operations Center and the CDC immediately deployed personnel to West Africa to coordinate a response that included vector tracing, testing, education, logistics and communication. Altogether, under President Obama, the CDC trained 24,655 medical workers in West Africa, educating them on how to prevent and control the disease before a single case left Africa or reached the US.

Working with the UN and the WHO, President Obama ordered the re-routing of travelers heading to the US through certain specific airports equipped to handle mass testing.  Back home in America, more than 6,500 people were trained through mock outbreaks and practice scenarios. That was done before a single case hit America.

Three months after President Obama activated this unprecedented response, on September 30, 2014, we got our first case in the US.  That man had traveled from West Africa to Dallas and had somehow slipped through the testing protocol. He was immediately detected and isolated, but died a week later. Two nurses who tended to him also contracted Ebola and later recovered. All the protocols had worked. It was contained.

The Ebola epidemic could have easily become a pandemic. But thanks to the actions of our government under President Obama, it never did. Those three cases were the only cases of Ebola in our country because President Obama did what needed to be done three months before the first case.

Ebola is even more contagious than Covid-19.  If Obama, had not done the things that he had, millions of Americans would have died.  It’s ironic that because President Obama did these things, we forget that he did them because the disease never reached our shores.

Now comes Donald Trump and the story of the Covid-19 response.  

Before anyone even knew about the disease, even in China, Trump disbanded the pandemic response team that Obama had put in place. He cut funding to the CDC and he cut contribution to the WHO.  Trump fired Rear Admiral Timothy Ziemer, the person on the National Security Council in charge of stopping the spread of infectious diseases before they reach our country - a position created by the Obama administration.

When the outbreak started in China, Trump assumed it was China’s problem and sent no research, supplies or help of any kind. After all, we were in a trade war that Trump had needlessly started, so why should he help them?

In January, he received a briefing from intelligence organizations that the outbreak was much worse than China was admitting and that it would definitely hit our country if something wasn’t done to prevent it. He ignored the report, not trusting our own intelligence.

In a January 29 memo, his own trade adviser, Peter Navarro, told Trump that “The lack of immune protection or an existing cure or vaccine would leave Americans defenseless in the case of a full-blown coronavirus outbreak on U.S. soil."  Navarro said that the lack of protection elevates the risk of the coronavirus evolving into a full-blown pandemic, imperiling the lives of millions of Americans. Despite this warning of a clear and present danger, Trump still refused to take action.

When the disease spread to Europe, the WHO offered a boatload of tests to the United States. Trump turned them down, saying private companies here would make the tests “better” if we needed them. But he never ordered US companies to make the tests and they had no profit motive to do so on their own.

According to scientists at Yale and several public university medical schools, when they asked for permission to start working on our own testing protocol and potential treatments or vaccines, they were denied by Trump’s FDA.

When Trump knew about the first case in the United States he did nothing. It was just one case and the patient was isolated, he rationalized. When doctors and scientists started screaming in the media that this was a mistake, Trump claimed it was a “liberal hoax” conjured up to try to make him “look bad after impeachment failed.”

The next time Trump spoke of Covid-19, we had 64 confirmed cases but Trump went before microphones and told the America public that we only had 15 cases “and pretty soon that number will be close to zero.” All while the disease was spreading. He took no action to get more tests. What Trump did do is stop flights from China from coming here, but this was too little, too late and accomplished nothing according to scientists and doctors. By then the disease was worldwide and was already spreading exponentially in the US by American citizens, not Chinese people as Trump would like you to believe.

As of the moment I’m posting this, the morning of April 7, 2020, we have 12,000 deaths in the US and 385,000 confirmed cases.  The actual number of confirmed cases is undoubtedly much higher, but we don’t know because we don’t have enough tests. And why don’t we have enough tests? Remember back when Trump turned down the tests from the WHO and prevented our own universities from developing them? Remember back when Trump had cut the funding to the CDC?

Yet Trump still has the audacity to go on camera during his daily briefings and blame the previous administration for the mess we are now in, yet he has no one to blame but himself.

Republican pundits try to put the blame on China and they are correct - after all, the disease started there and the Chinese government handled it poorly and dishonestly. So it’s fair to blame the government of China for the origin of the Covid-19 epidemic. But that misses the point.  Obama didn’t blame Ebola on Guinea. He helped them stop it. 

Trump let the disease invade the US.   It's one thing to be stupid and hateful - some people just can't help it.  But it's another thing to be willfully stupid hateful and for your stupidity and hate to result in the deaths of the people you were elected to protect.

Day 14

Shelter-In-Place Involuntary Quarantine, Day 14:  I thought this would be the end of it - it's the last day of Mayor Bottoms' 14-day shelter-in-place order - but Georgia's dim-witted Republican governor apparently didn't get the memo about how contagious the Trump flu is until late, and now I have another week to go.  It wouldn't surprise me if the order doesn't get extended further still - deaths in Georgia aren't expected to peak until April 23, although new infections may have peaked prior to that date.

There are now more that 7,500 confirmed cases of coronavirus in Georgia, and sadly, tragically, 294 deaths so far.  More than 31,000 tests have been conducted across the state, and about 24% have returned positive results.

A mere month ago, I was remarking that there were only two cases of coronavirus here in Georgia - the father and son of a family that just returned from a trip to Milan - and that I wouldn't be at all surprise if the total wouldn't eventually exceed 1,000 or more.  Now we're three and a half times that estimate, and probably have another three weeks to go before we find out how high the numbers will rise.

The Great Quarantine Housecleaning Project stalled in place due to a shortage of paper towels.  I'm not out (yet), but I opened my last roll late last week and was dismayed at how fast I was going through them.  I can still vacuum and use rags and old t-shirts for dusting, but without paper towels I can't do the kind of deep cleaning for the remainder of the house that I did for the first five-sevenths.

Also (and the hits just keep on coming), my old washing machine of the last 15 years finally died.  It's not a great time to go out shopping for new appliances or to be scheduling home installation, so I may resort to hand-washing laundry before all this passes.