Los Angeles, California
Pandemic or not, summer began as it ritualistically does each year. With the exception of winter, I always yearn for the next season up, and that is especially true for summer. Summer is imprinted on my soul, and the ghosts of many summers past come flooding into my consciousness. I clearly remember the two summers spent in Waikiki and can conjure up the lush, tropical scent of the islands as we would walk down Prince Edward Avenue or Seaside Street on our way to the beach. I remember driving my Audi on the 405 freeway one evening, windows open, blasting The Rolling Stones on my car's cassette player, in the afterglow after having seen them in concert the night before. I remember the summers of The Beatles, seeing them in concert and seeing A Hard Day's Night and the following summer, Help, both at drive-in movie theaters. I remember my mom popping into my bedroom in our home in Burbank and saying, grab a sweater, we're going to Disneyland to watch the fireworks. We would get to Disneyland as many of the daytrippers were leaving and race to the Chicken of the Sea Pirate Ship, which was the best place to watch the display. Or later, in Northridge: We're going to Foster's Freeze. Do you want to come? I would be folded onto the shelf behind the front seats of my father's Alfa Romeo, which had its hard top removed for the summer.
The thing is, when you have the kind of memory I have, you don't just remember, you can actually conjure up the feelings, the scents, the everything that comes packaged with those memories. Unfortunately, the same is true of bad memories. The summer of 2020 will certainly be remembered through the rest of my life. I will remember that I didn't get to see Joel for all of the months leading up to summer. I will remember that my friends reached out to me with an almost systematic regularity. I will remember that I got a crush on Sanjay Gupta. I will remember that my first social gathering out of the pandemic was a lovely dinner party at my friends', Lisa and Steven's, home. And that we somehow, unexpectedly, managed to do a little salsa dance that night! I will remember that I transitioned into a completely different fitness modality and that I hit it hard. And that, as a result, my body felt stronger and more flexible than it had in a long time.
I will also remember that some double-digit IQ citizens, moronically decided that it was an affront to their civil rights to wear a mask in public, in the middle of a pandemic. I will remember how I struggled to understand this confusion. I will remember the protests in the streets after a sickening incident of police brutality caused a national response that said: Enough. I'll remember the anger, and the frustration at not having any national guidence on what our country is going through. I will always remember the tipping point, when our country teetered on the verge of disintegration as a result of a ridiculously careless and inept leader who offered a complete lack of the leadership we have a right to expect. I almost wish I would not remember this going forward. It will be painful. But, it will also be important, so that it doesn't happen again. It's a current, popular thought which someone texted to me: 1945 called and wants to know WTF? Yeah well, give us Roosevelt and Truman and maybe we wouldn't be in this mess.
So, that's the CRAZY. For the lazy and hazy part, you just need to listen to the music, eat peaches and sweet corn, and hang in there. Also, count your blessings. I wasn't an Oprah watcher, but I think she was onto something with her gratitude movement. You have to have appreciation for what is good, when things are so bad. I am fortunate to have the friends I have and to count new friends among them. The world will continue to turn, and we will find our way out of this. Even, I think, with some positive insight; the lessons learned through the isolation and upheaval. At dinner the other night, we talked about the positive things that have come into our lives as a result of our time in pandemic. And there are these secondary gains. So, if your June mornings are like ours here in Los Angeles, a bit grey and overcast, do try to look for that silver lining. It's thin, but even within June gloom, there can be a centering glow. Sometimes you just have to suss it out. And, this would be one of those times. It bears repeating: Hang in there. And thank you for reading my blog.
June 30, 2020
June 28, 2020
PMS
Los Angeles, California
It's a pandemic. Why do I write Los Angeles at the top of each post? It's not like I'm going anywhere... Oh well.
Who needs to read a blog post about PMS, right? I know what you're thinking. But you're wrong. This PMS is Pandemic Mood Syndrome. Or for some, maybe Panic Mood Swing. I ain't swinging that much, thanks to my workout routine. But I did have one really big meltdown after about three nights of bad sleep. Not that I ever sleep really well, but this was bad -- like a series of about twenty short naps each night, instead of sustained sleep. It started with a fireworks blast in my neighborhood. Fireworks are clearly a problem right now. You get the equation, right? Pandemic = Fireworks. Seriously, I have no idea how or why this is happening. It has been reported that there are conspiracy theories tied to this. But I suspect that fireworks manufacturers/distributors have hit hard times as most of the places where fireworks are so common: Disneyland; the Hollywood Bowl, etc., are not ordering fireworks. So, a surplus of fireworks and some of them ending up in my usually quiet neighborhood. This one was a blast. It sounded like someone had blown up a house. My walls and windows shook. When NASA was unable to land the space shuttles in Florida, they would land here in California, breaking the sound barrier coming in. This was like that sonic boom. And it was 10:30 at night. My heart pounded, and I walked around from room to room trying to figure out A) what it was, and B) what I needed to do. I didn't figure out what it was, but the lack of police or fire department sirens convinced me that no one had blown anything up. And after a period of time, I decided the only thing to do was to go to bed. I later learned that it was something like an M-80 (a neighbor told me this and I hope I got that number right) firecracker and that it had the neighborhood texting and calling each other. Said neighbor also said I could text them anytime, even at 10:30 at night, which was kind. For the next few weeks, I was aware of every sound in the neighborhood as well as every sound my house made at night. And it is a noisy house. The fireworks continue, though none so percussive as that night. But that started a cycle of insomnia which in turn caused the meltdown one morning over the phone with Joel.
I had just seen my doctor, which I was looking forward to because I wanted his thoughts on how we are doing with Covid19. He reaffirmed what I already knew: That this thing is not to be trifled with, and that we need to take care of each other by following what is common sense in a pandemic. I am too young to remember the polio pandemic, but I wonder if everyone followed the pandemic guidelines at that time? Youtube is currently full of scenes of people throwing fits at Costco and Trader Joe's because they are asked to put on their masks. It's... almost... funny. But it's not. I am shocked, really shocked at the degree to which everyone is all over the spectrum of response to the virus. I shouldn't be. I see people running stop signs and red lights every day. And, that could kill someone. Have we simply gotten to a degree of entitlement, that we are all going to do whatever we feel like in total disregard for our community and world? What would Sandra do...? I mean, seriously, my blog is named that because Sandra once, in frustrated exasperation, threw a What would Jesus do? at her husband, John, when he was misbehaving. We were at a bar drinking martinis, so it was a stretch to conjure Jesus up. But after that, Tom had coined What would Sandra do? because Sandra, in spite of being one of most fun friends I have ever had, seemed to always exemplify decent behavior. Not to play the faith card here, but I think that it's not a bad idea to pattern ourselves after some good model, whether Jesus or Sandra. I have those good models in this pandemic. But I also see entitlement, and I see cavalier behavior. It is only your right to risk getting this disease, if you are going to quarantine from the time of contracting the disease, thereby mitigating the risk of giving it to others. But, you can't do that, because you are presymtomatic before onset and possibly, asymptomatic throughout the course of the disease. This is not rocket science. In fact, it's kindergarten science.
So, I had a meltdown. I had been invited to a friend's home for dinner. I knew they would make it a safe gathering. And it was to be my first social gathering since mid-March. And I was confused. They live nearby in my neighborhood. No freeways involved: Doable. I was to bring nothing but wine: Doable. I now had a collection of masks (the one that matched my outfit was in the laundry, but mismatched mask: Doable). And then the problems started. The news reported that California, and particularly LA, had taken an upward curve in the Covid Count. It was discribed as a "hockey stick" uptick. I got stressed about this. But my host is a physician, and known to be cautious. If they were staying the course, I was in. Then the trouble really started: first in my closet. What did I used to wear to dinner parties? I managed to wash my hair, but the process of applying make-up stymied me. It took me longer to get ready than it used to and I arrived late and flustered at their home. But, in a pandemic, maybe this is to be expected. And ultimately, I had a great time. We stayed outside; dined on a wonderful dinner while maintaining a full 6-feet distance from each other. We did not hug. We observed all the rules, and I was glad I had attended.
Right now, everything is complicated and just pretty darn weird. I don't intend to socialize much through this. But I am grateful for all the phone conversations and Facetimes I have shared with friends. It's important to be there for each other. I mean, it's always important to be there for each other. As the song goes, That's what friends are for. But even more so now. In the middle of a pandemic. And suffering from Pandemic Mood Syndrome, which, unfortunately does not only come once a month. There's no cure for this virus. At least, not yet. For now, you just gotta ride it out. And a disease with no cure nor effective treatment is a lot like running a red light. It is only your right to dice with death when it won't impact others. So, let us try to remember that we're all in this thing together. It's what Sandra would do. Thank you for reading my blog.
It's a pandemic. Why do I write Los Angeles at the top of each post? It's not like I'm going anywhere... Oh well.
Who needs to read a blog post about PMS, right? I know what you're thinking. But you're wrong. This PMS is Pandemic Mood Syndrome. Or for some, maybe Panic Mood Swing. I ain't swinging that much, thanks to my workout routine. But I did have one really big meltdown after about three nights of bad sleep. Not that I ever sleep really well, but this was bad -- like a series of about twenty short naps each night, instead of sustained sleep. It started with a fireworks blast in my neighborhood. Fireworks are clearly a problem right now. You get the equation, right? Pandemic = Fireworks. Seriously, I have no idea how or why this is happening. It has been reported that there are conspiracy theories tied to this. But I suspect that fireworks manufacturers/distributors have hit hard times as most of the places where fireworks are so common: Disneyland; the Hollywood Bowl, etc., are not ordering fireworks. So, a surplus of fireworks and some of them ending up in my usually quiet neighborhood. This one was a blast. It sounded like someone had blown up a house. My walls and windows shook. When NASA was unable to land the space shuttles in Florida, they would land here in California, breaking the sound barrier coming in. This was like that sonic boom. And it was 10:30 at night. My heart pounded, and I walked around from room to room trying to figure out A) what it was, and B) what I needed to do. I didn't figure out what it was, but the lack of police or fire department sirens convinced me that no one had blown anything up. And after a period of time, I decided the only thing to do was to go to bed. I later learned that it was something like an M-80 (a neighbor told me this and I hope I got that number right) firecracker and that it had the neighborhood texting and calling each other. Said neighbor also said I could text them anytime, even at 10:30 at night, which was kind. For the next few weeks, I was aware of every sound in the neighborhood as well as every sound my house made at night. And it is a noisy house. The fireworks continue, though none so percussive as that night. But that started a cycle of insomnia which in turn caused the meltdown one morning over the phone with Joel.
I had just seen my doctor, which I was looking forward to because I wanted his thoughts on how we are doing with Covid19. He reaffirmed what I already knew: That this thing is not to be trifled with, and that we need to take care of each other by following what is common sense in a pandemic. I am too young to remember the polio pandemic, but I wonder if everyone followed the pandemic guidelines at that time? Youtube is currently full of scenes of people throwing fits at Costco and Trader Joe's because they are asked to put on their masks. It's... almost... funny. But it's not. I am shocked, really shocked at the degree to which everyone is all over the spectrum of response to the virus. I shouldn't be. I see people running stop signs and red lights every day. And, that could kill someone. Have we simply gotten to a degree of entitlement, that we are all going to do whatever we feel like in total disregard for our community and world? What would Sandra do...? I mean, seriously, my blog is named that because Sandra once, in frustrated exasperation, threw a What would Jesus do? at her husband, John, when he was misbehaving. We were at a bar drinking martinis, so it was a stretch to conjure Jesus up. But after that, Tom had coined What would Sandra do? because Sandra, in spite of being one of most fun friends I have ever had, seemed to always exemplify decent behavior. Not to play the faith card here, but I think that it's not a bad idea to pattern ourselves after some good model, whether Jesus or Sandra. I have those good models in this pandemic. But I also see entitlement, and I see cavalier behavior. It is only your right to risk getting this disease, if you are going to quarantine from the time of contracting the disease, thereby mitigating the risk of giving it to others. But, you can't do that, because you are presymtomatic before onset and possibly, asymptomatic throughout the course of the disease. This is not rocket science. In fact, it's kindergarten science.
So, I had a meltdown. I had been invited to a friend's home for dinner. I knew they would make it a safe gathering. And it was to be my first social gathering since mid-March. And I was confused. They live nearby in my neighborhood. No freeways involved: Doable. I was to bring nothing but wine: Doable. I now had a collection of masks (the one that matched my outfit was in the laundry, but mismatched mask: Doable). And then the problems started. The news reported that California, and particularly LA, had taken an upward curve in the Covid Count. It was discribed as a "hockey stick" uptick. I got stressed about this. But my host is a physician, and known to be cautious. If they were staying the course, I was in. Then the trouble really started: first in my closet. What did I used to wear to dinner parties? I managed to wash my hair, but the process of applying make-up stymied me. It took me longer to get ready than it used to and I arrived late and flustered at their home. But, in a pandemic, maybe this is to be expected. And ultimately, I had a great time. We stayed outside; dined on a wonderful dinner while maintaining a full 6-feet distance from each other. We did not hug. We observed all the rules, and I was glad I had attended.
Right now, everything is complicated and just pretty darn weird. I don't intend to socialize much through this. But I am grateful for all the phone conversations and Facetimes I have shared with friends. It's important to be there for each other. I mean, it's always important to be there for each other. As the song goes, That's what friends are for. But even more so now. In the middle of a pandemic. And suffering from Pandemic Mood Syndrome, which, unfortunately does not only come once a month. There's no cure for this virus. At least, not yet. For now, you just gotta ride it out. And a disease with no cure nor effective treatment is a lot like running a red light. It is only your right to dice with death when it won't impact others. So, let us try to remember that we're all in this thing together. It's what Sandra would do. Thank you for reading my blog.
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About Me
- Bronte Healy
- California, United States
- Once, I came up with this brilliant idea (well, I thought so, anyway) that the key to happiness was to concentrate on three things -- to choose three interests, then focus and funnel your energy into that trio. I was an English major in college and have always written in some shape or form. So, my first choice was writing. I've always kept journals, and have also written plays, novels, poetry, and shopping lists. I do have a day job. It deals with numbers (assets and finances). Go figure. I went to college at a California University. I live in California, Los Angeles, but not downtown. No children, and sadly, between dogs at the moment (dog person, not a cat person). Enough info? I was going for just enough to not be a cypher, yet not enough to entice a stalker. And, I started my blog after being dragged, kicking and screaming, to do so. Blogs! Read about ME here, right? But I have been advised that this is a way to write regularly, and to put your writing OUT THERE. So, here goes. My name is Bronte Healy. Thanks for reading my blog.