How could I have forgotten what sun felt like on my face? What could have so pushed such a glorious truth of life so thoroughly from my mind?
Oh. That.
Nah. This thing we’re facing doesn’t get to take the sun. The soft breeze. Fresh air. Warmth. The blooming of spring.
We’re quarantined, yes. And the numbers are going up. They will continue to do so for at least another ten days, according to the experts. But not with the unbridled abandon this thing could have racked up, would have, without us fighting back.
That beautiful sun today? Ours. The blue sky? Ours. The beautiful bloom? Ours. And we’ll have it all back. We’ll feel the sun on our faces and stand among friends and we’ll celebrate with loved ones and we’ll laugh and we’ll toast the day.
But first, we win the war.
I write this series in an effort to help others get through this. You are welcome to add your comments on today’s topic (embracing life) in the space below. #MOC19
I didn’t post for two days. Been riding the rollercoaster. We all do it. Experience high highs, low lows, and all the climbs and sweeps in between. It is a wild ride during the best of days, and, surprisingly, more so in these times.
I gotta be honest, I hate rollercoasters. Despise the lack of control we have while riding those monstrous mechanical beasts. But life’s up and downs? That’s where everything we are gets tested, defined, and expressed. That, I embrace.
Monday was my birthday. I’ve had too many of them to make demands on the day but those around me seemed stressed that it was happening during this quarantine. My objectives were simple: be around family and have some gentle laughs. Goals met and surpassed. This, friends, is the best part of the ride. To enjoy each other’s company is to live life. What a great birthday it was.
The rollercoaster glides up…
Tuesday was all twists and turns with work, distant and in my face simultaneously. How all that is dealt with is another measure of the person. It can be rewarding, frustrating, intellectually challenging, and a spiritual struggle all at once. And so it goes. Our jobs define us not by who others think we are but by how we express ourselves after the choices. We took the job, we can show our who we are by doing it to the best of our talents, damn the torpedoes.
The incline gets steeper, but we’ve got this…
Tuesday night was the gut punch. A hospital worker friend texted about how bad it is actually getting where she works, with staff running out of room for the bodies. This trusted account forced my half shut eyes wide open. Right behind it, a second blow; a student reported she wasn’t handing in her assignments because there had been not one but two deaths in her family. At a time of quarantine that forbids wakes or funerals.Between two such reports how can we possible ignore the horror?
Down we plunge, fast and bitterly reckless, heading straight into the utter darkness…
Thirty-five years ago today I met the goddess. That one thought pulls me from the depths. Rescues me from all of this, as she always does.
I don’t know what comes next, or how I will respond, I just know I will feel all of it. The laughter and joy, the sadness, the anger, the despair, and the hope. That last one is the strongest of them. Hope grows brighter despite illness and death because it is so clear that we are together in doing what we need to do to minimize the devastation. That is a glory that gets clouded when stats and personal hits and absurd back patting politicians threaten to overwhelm. When the pitch black wave looms, I look in the goddess’s eyes, or watch a son so in love he is shamelessly goofy for his girlfriend (fruit doesn’t fall far – and that’s beautiful to see). I walk the empty streets and beam with pride at the silent warriors digging in and fighting the intelligent way. I see us joined in a way we never have been before, and it gives me strength.
Feel the feels. See the strengths. Grieve for our losses. Celebrate our blessings. And let hearts swell at the sheer number of us unified in faith that we are fighting a war worth winning.
Thank you all for being part of this incredible ride. Let’s keep going.
I write this series in hopes of lifting spirits during this pandemic. You are welcome to comment on today’s topic (feeling the feelings) in the comment section below. #MOC19
Amid all the Coronavirus blues we got going on, there are some moments to applaud.
Celebrities are giving online performances or reading children’s books (the LeVar Burton/Neil Gaiman exchange was beautiful, and worth Googling), or adapting to quarantine and doing exceptional work (if you haven’t seen Trevor Noah’s 13-minute interview with Dr. Fauci, you should).
Schools are doing reach out projects for their students (one teacher posts a math problem a day on a huge whiteboard in her home’s front window, others drove by their elementary school students’ homes to wave hello, my own Hackensack High School recently did a video of staff sending messages to our students, and so on).
Still others are doing what they can, sharing humor, song, beaches, whatever works to keep us all going. Bless them all.
Americana Highways is one of those entities. Locatable on Faceboook, they are hosting mini-concerts with primarily country or singer/songwriter acts both prominent and up-and-coming. The results have been enjoyable. And in one case, profound.
For those who know his work, it will come as no surprise that last night James McMurtry said something that should stick with all of us. The veteran performer is an impressive guitar player and stunning lyricist, but his off-hand comments can nail a situation perfectly. He did this while introducing the last song in an approximately forty minute set, a cover of the song that played during the credits of the film Sometimes A Great Notion, based on the book of the same name by Ken Kesey. And then he had one thing to say about the Corona Virus. I am going to have to paraphrase, so forgive me.
McMurtry mentioned that this virus survives and thrives on us. And it does not differentiate according to color or culture or politics or religion or economics. He noted that is got past security at the White House to infect a member of Vice President Pence’s staff and slid under the door at 10 Downing Street and attached itself to Prince Charles.
James McMurtry speaking truth.
This virus doesn’t care about our differences, McMurtry mused, and neither should we.
And he is simply, spectacularly, right. Perhaps the most silver of linings to emerge from all this is the chance for all of us to see how artificial and arbitrary our borders and barriers are, how useless and defeating our judgments and separations and disdains prove to be when a true enemy comes a knocking.
Perhaps our best hope is to see ourselves as a larger community that has more commonalities than differences, more to unify us than to tear us apart.
Thank you, Mr. McMurtry. I hope you, and all of us, stay safe, and mindful that we are all in this together as one.
I write this series in hopes of helping others (and myself, to be honest) get through this extended time out.you are welcome to share your comments on today’s topic (McMurtry’s observation) in the space below. #MOC19
I got up with a jolt this morning, worried about today’s topic. I hustled around the house, taking pics of potential subject matter, and pushed myself to thinking deeply about the relevance of each to how people cope with a pandemic. I busied myself with reflecting on upcoming changes at the job and that possible lesson plan or this smidge of wisdom or slice of hope I could offer today. My brain was getting crowded and I was growing tense.
And then I made tea.
It didn’t hit me right away. Instead, I fretted all through the steeping process (“Tea must steep a minimum of three minutes or it isn’t tea,” an early tea mentor had once insisted, back when I didn’t know tea mentors existed or that that tea could be made improperly. The things we learn in this life).
I set down tea steaming tea (the steeping now complete), my iPad, a book I am reading, my iPhone with the new pictures I just took, and removed my Airpods because I needed to concentrate on this blog, it wasn’t coming into focus.
And then I heard it. A very pleasant silence. Okay there was the low hum of the fridge but otherwise it was serenely quiet in the house. And I had a cup of tea. And a comfy chair. And it was Sunday morning. Oh yeah, I suddenly remembered, this used to be how I spent Sunday mornings. Quietly. With a cuppa and maybe the morning paper or a book. Or just me, thinking, calmly.
What a pleasant experience to have again. I think I will. And I encourage you to do the same.
Enjoy.
I write this series in hopes of helping others get through this unprecedentedly weird time. You are welcome to share your thoughts on today’s topic (enjoying quiet Sunday mornings) in the comments below. #MOC19
Wandering social media this morning with my nice cuppa Barry’s Irish Tea, I couldn’t help noticing how many people were posting that the weekends were proving exceptionally difficult during Coronapalooza2020. I agree, and have a few suggestions, all of them with a common denominator – contact. Here’s a few things that can improve the weekend for many:
Contact family, either through a series of calls or (if that is too scary because, family), texts, posting comments to their social media posts, or creating a text thread sharing old family photos (thanks, Jane).
Respond to posts with comments, messages of support, questions, etc. too often we look and scroll on.
Participate in non-pandemic discussions. For example, favorite episode of a TV show (Buffy “The Body” comes to mind, or season 4 of Angel, or any episode of any show featuring the character John Constantine).
Share adorable baby videos. This is the domain of my brother Kevin, and he does an excellent job.
Share a video of a classic song or scene from a film or TV show. This is the domain of my brother Kevin, and he does an excellent job.
(6, ya crazy auto numbering!) Enjoy the “this day in pop culture and/or literature” FB posts of Michael Rogers (on Insta it’s @mike_rogers_pix). Always fun and informative.
(7) Basically, spread the joy we do have in life. We all need it, especially on a gray Stay Home Saturday.
I write this series in an effort to help others get through this. You are welcome to add your comments on today’s topic (#stayhome) in the space below. #MOC19
AirPods are a major problem for high school teachers. Students wear them everywhere, even in class. Or they did until the pandemic. We’ll see if this time away fundamentally changes student’s approach to their education. If the work being done remotely is any indication, we all may be proud of them. In the meantime, an oddly pleasant side effect of the pandemic is that when teachers are not live distance teaching, they find themselves home with all their grading, and all their music. We can slip on our own AirPods (yes, class, we own them), or go old school and load up the multi-CD player, or go even older school and play that sweet sounding vinyl (class, ask your grandparents).
But there are some drawbacks.
While grading is very productive to the music of The Band…
Grading, The Band, and breakfast compliments of the goddess.
… it is nigh impossible to do any academic work while playing one of the best albums ever produced, The Temptations Greatest Hits, Vol.II…
The legendary cover of the 1970 album.
Let’s talk about this album art. Designed for scrutiny, it was the freakiest, hippiest art I had seen up to that point, and continues to be among my very favorite album covers of all time (students, you may not appreciate the importance of album art in the download era, trust me on this, is was key wayyyyy back in history). But the music is what cast the spell. And the magic never faded.
Many of you may not have been alive for eons, so you might not know the glories of The Temptations. I do. My older brother introduced this classic disc to my eight-year-old ears and it took over my soul. Whenever I was alone, I would spin and dance and sing all the parts, although the bass voice was way too low for my young vocal chords. This week proved I still cannot focus on anything else when these songs play. Look at the play list and you should understand…
Never heard these songs, class? Crank up your Spotify or Apple Music and discover the roots of what you listen to today.
Sadly, this album had to be surrendered to the call of professionalism. That’s okay, being alive longer than my students can fathom has provided opportunities to gather much great music. Here’s just a random sampling of what professionals can use to keep them going while working at home during The Grind….
This week’s playlist and some backup.Not even including the vinyl yet. AirPods are for rookies.
Music can replenish the soul, make the heart pump with life, energize your body and mind. If The Grind is getting to you, put on some tunes, even if you have to use AirPods.
I write this series in hopes of helping people get through this pandemic with a bit more easy. You are welcome to share on today’s topic (music that helps) in the comments below. #MOC19
The abyss can just grab us these days, pull is into the Coronavirus blues when least expected. You have been warned.
But the most unexpected magic can lift us up just as surprisingly. You have been encouraged.
It happened to me. Early morning tea ritualistically revives me the way coffee works on most humans. Barry’s Irish, thank ye very much. A nice cuppa before sunrise and I am ready for the adventure, God bless St. Caffeine.
Not today. I was pulled under. Plunged into the abyss by morning news and The Grind. Couldn’t shake it. Ran to the safety of the DVR but it wasn’t holding any joy for me there. Flipping stations made it worse. Nothing gave joy. Nothing hit that little war, sunny spot in the heart.
And then there she was. Marisa Tomei. Called to the stand for the climax of My Cousin Vinny. Tomei embodied the character of Mona Lisa Vito with such zest and joy she rendered her contagious. Watching the climatic scene (YouTube “My Cousin Vinny The Defense is Wrong”) where she espouses the unique qualities of rear wheel differential and something she calls posatraction never fails to release the sun I mentioned not too long ago.
Tomei in full Mona Lisa mode.
So thank you, Marisa Tomei, for picking me up and energizing me to face The Grind today.
We all have our personal favorites – scenes or films that never fail to make us feel better, like comfort food for the soul. In these weird, trying times, don’t hesitate to go to one of yours when needed.
I write this series in hopes of helping others through the Coronavirus. You are invited to share about the topic (today: film scenes that brighten our day) in the comments section below.
Monday proved to be a grind. And Tuesday is serving up more of the same. This ain’t last week, folks. The adventure’s gone. The novelty’s worn off. And some of our leaders are wandering away from medical intelligence and the world’s evidence, and instead are fantasizing about wonder drugs and this being over soon.
Wonder drugs? Over soon?
I believe most Americans look at the world’s losses and know we’re not on third base heading home, we’re still in the batter’s box waiting on a terrifying inside fastball that hasn’t even left the glove yet.
We see that testing centers are reaching capacity and turning people away before they even open for the day. That tells us how many of our neighbors are worried, or sick, or worse.
Hospitals are begging for masks and protective equipment that the country could be producing with the activation of an already signed order. Instead, we get meandering murmurs of “not wanting to make the cure worse that the problem.” But we the people look around the world and see exactly how big the problem already is. We know that this nation is not close to being done administering tests, no less assessing the results, or treating the ill. And if we’re sent back to our lives before we have confronted this enemy, whatever we have accomplished will be undone. And the numbers of the sick and the dead will explode.
However, there is considerable evidence that Americans know the world’s numbers, dread them, and are turning to state and local officials, and to their own morals, for guidance. We work from home, educate through distance learning, shop In progressively more sane ways, and stay inside. Tuesday morning saw TV commercials become nonpartisan pep and unity rallies, promising support, belief, and strength from furniture outlets and car companies and other familiar brands. And news reports began to emerge showing still other companies manufacturing medical masks and gloves on their own. Communities are working to find ways to feed those in need, and citizens from rock stars to students are utilizing social media to spread hope.
I have faith that most of America sees COVID-19 as the global pandemic that it is, and it seems clear that many of us are doing what needs to be done. It speaks to what lives within Americans, the toughness to take on the unbeatable threat and get to work creating an answer.
In the 1940’s so many countries were threatened by the Axis of Evil, and Americans turned factories and scrap metal and housewives and skinny high school grads and Pearl Harbor into the steely resolve needed to break the allegedly insurmountable Nazi stronghold at Normandy. We stormed those beaches and willingly paid the price to make the world a better place.
We’ve battled for civil and equal rights since the 1960’s with marches and sit-ins, and we lost good people there too. We defied the noose and the gun and still battle stubbornly lingering hatred to make the world a better place.
We’ve been knocked to our knees economically, socially, medically, and spiritually. We’ve seen adversity before and we’ve suffered hard times. None of it has been easy and much of it is ongoing, but when all is said and done, one thing still stands…
The American Spirit.
Not the consumer version or the politically marketed version or any of the cable news versions. Not the Hollywood exploited version or the scandal sheet version or the hot new series now streaming version.
The True American Spirit dwells within everyday people who love their children and work their jobs and dream their dreams and pet their dogs and spend their lives trying to do what is right and what is best for all.
And in our hearts we know the right thing to do now is to take the rough road, to storm this seemingly insurmountable Normandy the way it needs to be stormed. We know the right thing to do is to sit-in against this microscopic violation of our lifestyles, our dreams, our families. In our hearts, that American Spirit burns with the desire to fight this enemy any way we need to, to pay the price to take our lives back, not for a week or a month or a year, but for the future, because we love our children and our families and this worthwhile Idea of America.
But it is going to be a grind and we’re going to need to marshal maturity and all work together and listen to proven experts and not give in to short cuts or false hopes. Our children deserve better than that. Our families deserve better. As do our friends, neighbors, co-workers, and fellow Americans.
The bell is ringing. It is time we step up and do what needs to be done to meet this particular threat the way Americans always have. Our country is calling for us to make the world a better place once again.
I got there yesterday, got so bored that doing battle with the bathroom somehow seemed intriguing.
We clean our home weekly (I am contractually obligated to point this out by a certain Sicilian goddess who cleans like a delightfully manic hybrid of the Flash and She-Hulk), but we all know the difference between cleaning and oh my God, is he actually cleaning too?
Yes, we are truly in unheralded times; I wanted to actually do something domestic. In times of desperate need (or in this case, abject boredom), a warrior rises from his chair. This would be a battle royale and every legend requires weapons. I chose mine from the goddess’s limitless arsenal, kept in her physics-defying closet. And I chose wisely.
Le weapons.
Once more unto the breach, I cried havoc and let loose the dogs of washing, hitting each wall with an untamed horde of scrubbing bubbles. My minions ravaged dirt’s desperate defenses and then came I, breaking their bacterial spirit like a berserker with a brush. (We’re talking about putting in work, folks, utilizing muscles that have been mostly employed to turn pages and lift tea mugs these past few days.) Thumping Peter Gabriel club remixes added a bit of rhythm to each sanitizing slash, a touch of funk to my hygienic heroics. I was a force to be reckoned with, a slow moving, rarely seen, unstoppable tank to the goddess’s daily Level Six hurricane.
Those walls gave up the funk. So did the bathtub, sink, toilet. window, and floor. The shower curtains succumbed to my demands, and the mirror submitted to a near Disney-level polishing. Dirt offered no resistance, surrendering to my bubbling battalion, my brush, and the purifying waters of Isengard (okay, it was tap water, but run with the metaphors, will ya?). The effect was invigorating.
The enemy vanquished, the battlefield shines with new life.
The energy spread. In each room, the Orcs of Disorder cringed and fled. Even Sonny conquered the couch cushion covers.
“This couch shall be purged of mongrel cat hair,” the Mutt of Might declared.
And, of course, the goddess was everywhere all at once, shaming superheroes, using her awesome powers to shampoo rugs, shelve dishes, straighten beds, launder the laundry, fold clothes, clean windows, recover the couch, and absolutely leave me far behind her astounding trail of dirt decimation.
Thus zooms the goddess.
But I still felt great about finally having thoroughly cleaned that one room. This is my message today. Whether you are an immaculation artist Such as myself, working to perfect a single space, or a Tasmanian Devil lifting the house to vacuum under it, spending some time making your sanctuary sanitary, your spot spotless, your pad pure, or your casa cleansed is a solid defense against the pandemic blues. So pick a project, any project, and leap in.
I am writing this series to share ways to keep our spirits strong during this test of our humanity, our sense of community, and our faith in life. If you have something similar that works for you (for today, cleaning) please share it in the comments section. Your suggestion might save others right when they need it the most.
Chris Ryan 