Allan G. Hunter's Blog, page 31

Diary 39

Sunday, April 26th

The news that the “president” will no longer give his daily briefings because they’re “not worth the effort” is both disappointing and insulting. So we, the public, are not worth talking to?

I’m puzzled by him and Dr. Birx. I cannot imagine what they will gain from all this lying, from all these deaths. What would make anyone do what they’re doing, selling their souls, Faustus-like? Money? Power? Surely they neither of them command any respect any more.

What we are witnessing is a dramatic moral lesson. Their behavior asks us to reflect on our own lives: what would we sell our souls for? Would we do that? I like to think of what the hearts and souls of our heroic medical responders (and others) are demonstrating again and again – that the souls of those who are helping to solve this problem are not for sale.

Let’s learn that lesson. Let’s treasure it. Our souls are not for sale.

[USA: 956,850 confirmed cases: 54,443 deaths]

Diary 38

Saturday, April 25th

Todays’ major event was the haircut. Of course, I drank my usual gallon of bleach first, as recommended by our ‘president”. [ No, I didn’t.]

The clippers arrived, finally (massive demand at Amazon had ensured a long wait) and the instructions were perused. So, actually, were the Youtube videos of how to cut your own hair, all of which featured men far more handsome than me, with far shorter hair to begin with, who were effortlessly transformed into style icons. But they all had far less curly hair than I do. I was beginning to feel this could turn out to be other than the full-color brochure suggested.

A robust sense of the absurd was called for.

Fortunately my wife was on hand to take over the entire operation. If you ever need a haircut and no barber is available, find an artist. They’ll see you right every time.

I now have my new lockdown haircut. I’m pleased with it, but then, you know, I don’t actually have to look at it unless I pass a mirror. And I have a hat.

Diary 37

Friday, April 24th

Today was astonishing, since the “president” in his daily briefing, suggested that injecting household cleaning substances and drinking some of the same would be a cure for covid-19.

Just in case you’re in any doubt about this, don’t do it. You might well die.

No one on the platform or in the room remonstrated or shouted or did anything as this potentially lethal piece of claptrap was announced.

In law, if one is at the scene of a murder, one can either try to stop it or run away and get help. Staying at the scene makes one an accomplice, allowing the event to happen.

I’ll leave it there.

Diary 36

Thursday, April 23rd

Today was Shakespeare’s birthday (as I’m sure you all knew). He’d be 456 if he were still alive, and that was more candles than I had on hand so I just sang him a happy birthday or two as I washed my hands.

One of the big lessons that Shakespeare can share with us is that when the plague came to London and shut all the theatres, as it did on several occasions, he didn’t just mope. As far as we can tell he turned his hand to long poems. We don’t read them as much these days, but at the time they were immensely popular.

Shakespeare also had many other life-affirming things to say, but for us, today, it might be enough to know that he showed us an important truth: Never Give Up.

Diary 35

Wednesday April 22nd

The signs of our changed life are subtle. I noticed today the small piles of objects at the kerbside, the household items people are leaving out as freebees. It’s unusual to see so much mid month. Then it occurred to me that even if some people are cleaning out their basements (there’s a particular ‘look’ to such items) quite a few of these abandoned articles seem to be the remnants of those who are moving. The young people who perhaps rented a room, who worked in Cambridge, and would be seen on the buses most mornings – those buses that now run empty – are leaving their rentals now the work has dried out. They’re moving home, perhaps. They certainly aren’t here anymore.

And perhaps that’s not an altogether bad thing. Perhaps young people will start to think about whether they want to rent one room, at high rent, in a shared apartment, and be overworked. Living far away from friends and family may seem like ‘freedom’ for a while, but sometimes the psychic costs can be high. Perhaps this is a time when we can all revisit what we expect from ‘work’ and consider how we want to live.

We can do our lives better – if we choose to.

Diary 34

Tuesday 21st April

The relief of deciding not to take the doom and gloom of the media seriously is, well, delightful. I’m not hiding my head in the sand. I’m choosing not to be distressed by that which I cannot control.

I mention this because the “president” is adept at causing confusion, dis-information, and panic. Constant contradiction swirls around him like a bad smell.

It’s always easier to talk ourselves into a place of inaction, negation and criticism. It’s what humans do best. Ask anyone who’s ever had a great idea and then fought to get it noticed. It’s a learned response, though. It’s a reaction that throws away imagination in favor of despair. What’s the story we’re telling ourselves about who we are?

It’s astonishing to me that in this land of optimism, innovation, and can-do energy that we’ve been reduced to a state of fear by a combination of a virus and a disordered governing class. Where are the people who are talking about what we can do to stay healthy?  Where are those who are redesigning our health care system so this doesn’t happen again? Where are the planners, the innovators, the creative thinkers?

I know they’re out there. They’re just not getting much of a look in.

Diary 33

Diary 33

Monday 20th April

I’m still puzzled by the lockdown protesters. Italy and other European countries didn’t seem to have them. Is it an exclusively American problem? I’m reminded that my father spent 4 years as a POW, and a friend spent 17 years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Now that’s a lockdown. Oranges and apples, I hear you say? Well, perhaps.  But I do think about it.

I’ve decided that I do not want to live in fear. I’ll use my facemask; I’ll do social distancing; I’ll follow the guidelines.  But I will not expose myself to the alarmism of the media. Media are commercial interests – they thrive on selling copy, and what sells is drama and gloom. I intend to spend less time viewing/reading alarmism.

Diary 32

Diary 32

Sunday April 19th

A hard frost this morning, following yesterday’s snow, marked the 245th  anniversary of the ‘Shot Heard Round the World’. That was when the British Army shot at a British-American militia at Lexington Green, sparking off what would become known as the Revolutionary War.

Of course, the situation had been bubbling for years, and this was the last straw. I wonder if we’ll be able to identify a last straw for our present crisis. As the US death toll edges towards 40,000, we may want to wonder about that.

The situations are oddly parallel. In 1775 the British really thought they were protecting ‘their’ people from the evils of rebellion. In our day the anti-lockdown protesters truly feel their rights are being infringed.  In both cases the result was a terrible toll of death for the ordinary working people.

I wonder what might have happened, back in 1775, if people had stopped reacting with fear and anger, and if both sides had decided to listen to the other, to try and work out what each needed. I wonder what would happen now?

It was therefore time to take a walk in Cambridge and see Washington’s old headquarters and the deserted dorms at Harvard. That’s what the pictures show. The city I’d always enjoyed for its life and energy is now rather ghostly. Only a couple of take-out-only places were open. It’s still beautiful. It’s just not a city any more.

Diary 31

Saturday, April 18th

This morning provided the surprise of 2 or 3 inches of wet snow. I don’t think the flowers or buds appreciated that. After a winter of very little snow and warmish temperatures one can’t help feeling that things are out of balance. This time, now, when people are getting cabin-fever and taking walks outside like never before, would be a superb time to think about climate and what we might want to do to try and stabilize it. After all, we seem to value Nature more than ever we did before in our rush-around-in-cars-and-planes days. 

Those days may soon be back, though. The various protesters around the country who want to end the lockdown seem to be making progress. The “president” is saying he thinks they’re ‘very responsible’. They give voice to some of our frustrations, though. It’s like watching someone scale a fence to get into a ball game, and then we wonder if we’re chumps for standing in line to buy a ticket. Except the consequences are likely to be worse, in this case.

Such actions seem, to me, to be almost typical of some “American” values as other nations might see us. We don’t wait. We barge ahead. We always have. Open up the country and a few more people will die. So what? It won’t be me. That’s the thinking – if one can call it thinking. Perhaps it’s displaced rage at the gross inqualities we see daily, and so it becomes a sufficient scapegoat.

I think whimsically of one placard that read: “I need a haircut!” Well, so do I. Not that anyone sees me, because I don’t go out much these days….  My wife has ordered clippers (there’s long wait time for those) and says she’ll take care of it, or me. 

I can hardly contain my excitement.

Diary 30

Diary 30

Friday, April 17th

Today was spent tidying the yard, and transporting my wife’s materials from her studio back to the house. The Arts Center at which she rents space is, well, closed, shut down etc. She couldn’t get her stuff until yesterday. Now we have most of it in the attic room.

4591 covid-19 deaths were reported in the US in the previous 24 hours.

The anti-lockdown protesters seem to be gaining some attention. I can only assume that they are keen, perhaps desperate, to get back to work. One bore a sign that said ‘America will never be a socialist country’. I’m entirely not sure what to make of that. We regularly bail out banks and large industries. So, does he not want his stimulus check? He can send it to me.

Our granddaughter Ivy (aged one year and ten months) worked out how to use her mother’s phone to call us. However impressive that may be she’s not exactly proficient at words, yet, she just wanted to hold up her toys so we could see them on facetime. Her mom, working from home, is delighted to be able to spend so much time with her five daughters. She no longer has to drive to her tutoring sessions, and so has a couple of hours a day free that she would not have had otherwise. With this she’s implemented a schedule that includes some home-school activities, lots of art and books, and ‘magic hour’ when the bedrooms get tidied. I think they’ve never been happier. The lockdown hasn’t been all bad.