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2020-04-01
It's a chalk message, presumably written out by a child, which is conveying what we all feel about this pandemic "Corona is a pain in the butt"
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-21
"Last month, Bandcamp waived their revenue share on all purchases for a 24-hour period, in a gesture of support to all the artists who've been impacted by the coronavirus lockdowns. The initiative was a huge success. Techcrunch.com reports it was the biggest day in the site's 11-year history: "artists raised $4.3 million in music and merchandise sales over the 24-hour period. That comes out to more than 15x Bandcamp’s normal numbers on a Friday — or, as the site puts, it 11 items per second over the course of the day. In all, some 800,000 items were sold, versus the standard 47,000." "We don’t yet know the long-term impact of Covid-19, but we know that we all need music — to uplift and inspire us, to heal us, and to give us hope," Bandcamp wrote on their website. "We’ll continue working to make Bandcamp the best place for fans and artists to come together and sustain each other in the challenging times ahead." Well, the online music company is doing just that on Friday, May 1st. More details will be shared next Monday, April 27th. Until then... start making your shopping lists. "
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2020-04-17
Staff have vacated offices in the Law School at the University of Melbourne but pot plants from all floors are being looked after in the lobby
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2020-04-17
Easter chalk message on neighbourhood footpath
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2020-04-17
The University of Melbourne campus has a deserted feel due to access restrictions
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04/17/2020
Access restrictions to the Law Building at the University of Melbourne
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2020-04-17
Access to the University of Melbourne Parkville campus has been restricted for some weeks now
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2020-04-09
Neighbours have started up a practice of leaving spare herbs outside their gates for anyone to share
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2020-04-08
Local cafes can only serve takeaway so our local Italian cafe Tre Fontane is reinventing itself as an Italian grocer to stay in business
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2020-04-21
We have reached the point where many Americans are receiving their stimulus checks as an economic relief in response to the hardships Covid-19 has brought upon our economy. Many are getting at least $1200 on their checks and many memes are surfacing with different ways to spend the money (none of which are for the checks intended purpose). This, along with the added popularity of Tiger King made for this quality meme.
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2020-04-21
Market Vendors have been asked to not return home, and remain in their shops over night to prevent the spread of the Coronavirus.
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2020-04-19
It had been exactly 39 days since the last time I saw my partner. At the beginning of March, I made the decision to move in with my Mother in Tucson, where I had resolved to stay with her until the crisis was over. I needed to move out of my Tempe home by April 30th, so I made the trek from my parents’ house in Tucson back up to Tempe and enlisted my partner’s help in moving the last of my possessions. It felt dangerous, and even though it was essential travel and we’ve both been strict with social distancing since March, I must have asked at least ten times if she was sure it was safe. She assured me it was. I told her I was not sure if I could hug her. She told me it was okay.
Before this whole crisis began, we had just started a conversation about moving in together. The 39 days apart provided some clarity: We wanted to take that leap as soon as it was safe to do so. As we looked at the stacks of boxes on my kitchen floor, we decided that some could be stored in her apartment. It was strange, because when 2020 began I had this vision of us packing up my stuff and moving in together. Here it was happening, but it wasn’t this joyous event, it just felt solemn.
She cleared out space in her guestroom and we hauled boxes up three flights of stairs before we sat, winded, in her living room. It was so bittersweet—the hope of imagining this future together and the reality of our current separation.
My favorite thing about our relationship is that it’s been defined by laughter. We’re always on some type of adventure, working on some new inside joke, and always pranking the other. But in isolation, it’s been hard for us to keep up the playful parts of our relationship. We can’t go on adventures, we can’t prank one another, and sometimes everything feels too serious to joke at all. Somedays, we’re too tired and sad to even talk much.
As we moved things from my apartment to hers, she tried her best to cheer me up. She checked in with frequent are-you-okays and trotted out her best comedic material to elicit laughs. She’s become quite the TikTok aficionado in quarantine, and many of our jokes right now are shaped by the absurdist videos on the internet. Sure enough, each time we placed a new box in the car, she loudly yelled “CAROLE BASKIN”, a reference to the TikTok Tiger King inspired dance. Soon, throughout the afternoon, we’d both break out in the TikTok Song.
CAROLE BASKIN!
Killed her husband,
WHACKED HIM.
Can’t convince me that it didn’t
HAPPEN
Fed him to tigers
THEY SNACKIN
CAROLE BASKIN!
As we sat in her apartment on Sunday evening, I got an idea. I walked to the front of the couch like I was presenting at a conference.
“Play the music!”
“What music?”
“Play the Carole Basking song!”
It took me a few times before I began to freestyle some moves.
“You have to use your hips more!” she directed.
“What? No, I don’t!”
She pulled up another video for reference.
“All the good TikTok dancers use their hips!”
I tried again, this time bouncing my hips in ridiculous fashion.
CAROLE BASKIN! (I shook my hands above my head)
Killed her (I drew my thumb across my throat) husband (I pointed to my ring finger)
WHACKED HIM (I mimicked an axe movement)
Can’t convince me that it didn’t (I wagged my fingers and made an X across my chest with my arms)
HAPPEN (I tapped my arms by my side)
Fed him to tigers (I gestured from my chest out)
THEY SNACKIN (My outward arms made the alligator chomp twice on beat, before I drew my arms up to claws)
CAROLE BASKIN! (I bounced on my hip and flared my tiger claws outward with a rawr expression)
By the time the dance was over, my partner was howling with laughter and I was too. It was the hardest we had laughed together in weeks.
Before this pandemic started, I thought TikTok was silly. I still have no plans to join TikTok and I sincerely hope my TikTok dances never end up on the internet. I’ve also never seen Tiger King and I have no plans to and I keep hearing about Joe Exotic with no idea who that is.
But honestly it doesn’t matter what I think about TikTok or Tiger King, because I know they make my partner laugh. They bring her joy during this terrible time. I know that a lot of other people feel that way right now too.
So here I am, documenting my first TikTok dance; Or, as I like to think of it, a strange act of love in the midst of this pandemic.
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2020-04-13
This article examines how students are responding to the semester being online and potential job opportunities being lost. Students lost half a semester of connection, opportunity, and milestones.
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2020-04-20
After college, and a year of vagabonding through Central and South America, I moved to the city forty-two years ago. I was drawn to New York, like many, by the energy and complexity of the city itself, and more specifically, the rich and endless theater found on its streets. While the array of cultural offerings has been a source of nourishment and pleasure, it is the streetlife that keeps me as excited as my first weeks here. What I love about New York is not what I know about the city, but how much I don't know. You cannot exhaust it as a subject, and from the start, I have made the city my primary interest and subject as a photographer. I always go out with a camera and am often mistaken as a tourist because of it. I take that as a compliment, given few can match the exalted state of excitement and awareness that a tourist experiences on a visit.
When the Coronavirus hit and the staggered shutdown of the city went from a talked about possibility to a reality, I found myself inside my apartment looking out at the street below. At first, I made short trips to get necessities, then later added walks through Central Park, and now through the streets of Manhattan. If you think of a photograph as a piece of theater, with a stage set, lighting, cast, and choreography, the new version of the streetlife of New York is an eerie and fascinating show. The set and lighting is much the same, but the cast and choreography have wildly changed. Wandering through Midtown is like walking through an amusement park in the off-season. You experience the present colored by what you know it to be in season.
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2020-04-21
Interbank of Peru donated 20,000 PPE kits to the Ministerio del Peru to help provide healthcare workers with the basic medical supplies they need.
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2020-03-31
"For those sheltering at home and practicing social distancing, there is only so much internet browsing and television watching one can do before cabin fever really sets in. Luckily, the Native Learning Center is ready to step in to expand minds through podcasts and webinare on multiple subjects." #IndigenousStories
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2020-04-18
"At about 8 p.m. on Thursday, penguins started to crowd Club Penguin’s snow forts in anticipation. My evening began like any other on Club Penguin. One penguin demanded we all write the word “egg” in unison on our chat boxes (I complied), and another suggested we all visit the Iceberg and attempt to tip it over. But mostly, everyone wanted to know, “WHERE’S SOCCER MOMMY?” It wasn’t until the clock struck 8 o’clock that we realized we had to waddle to the “stadium” in the distance — the promotional material probably could have benefitted from this information. Once inside, I was treated to more of the same classic Club Penguin banter. There was talk of Carole Baskin of Netflix fame and of throwing snowballs — a virtual penguin’s only weapon — onto the stage. A modern milieu."
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2020-04-02
Tweet about online Club Penguin concert being rescheduled
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2020-04-12
Although at one time we had the mechanisms in place to deal with a pandemic, those resources were disbanded for short sighted financial and political reasons. So, we were woefully unprepared for this pandemic. Lack of leadership worsened the situation and even exasperated the problem with negligence and outright misinformation. The long term consequences will be catastrophic. Personally I am frustrated every day as the death toll rises and the whole planet suffers. This would have been a bad thing at best, and is being made much worse by the lack of credible leadership.
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2020-04-18
The South City area of Saint Louis is a diverse, tight-knit community. It only makes sense that residents would go out of their way to assist each other during this difficult time. The residents of this home near the intersection of Arsenal St. and Gravois Rd. advertised resources in chalk writing on the exterior of the house, including a LinkTree website, toll-free helpline, and email account dedicated to helping those in need and connecting volunteers with service opportunities. There are also children’s chalk drawings of flowers and a rainbow on the exterior and of a rainbow and a pot of gold taped to the window. #DePaulHST391
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2020-04-09
As Easter Sunday approaches, President Trump’s prediction about crowds of people returning to mass is proving unrealistic. Saint Joseph Catholic Church in Libertyville, IL is one example of many Catholic Churches offering online mass as a substitute for in-person services. While religious services have been streamed before, and “Church TV” has existed for a long time, never have Church services across the world had to be cancelled to such a large degree and replaced by online streaming.#DePaulHST391
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2020-03-31
"Even before the COVID-19 public health crisis began to grip the globe, Indian Country faced significant challenges from underfunding in health care, education, broadband and internet access, economic development, housing, human services and more." As a result, tribal leaders held a March 20 teleconference to discuss their next move. #IndigenousStories
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2020-04-21
Luckily my 5 yo continues to lead a fairly normal life. Her screen time is usually limited to when her brother naps, (about 2 hrs. a day), and she is happy to spend the rest of the day playing, painting, and singing. Occasionally, she does talk about missing school, her friends, and her nana in Michigan, but we can usually patch over the pain with a video call.
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2020-04-15
Businesses have been creating motivational messages, which reminds me that we are all in this together.
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2020-03-17
Officials from local, state, federal and Nez Perce Tribal government come together for proactive coronavirus planning meeting to "ensure the Nez Perce Tribe is as prepared as can be." #IndigenousStories
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2020-04-20
A sign on the door of Our Lady of the Rosary Roman Catholic Church reads: "All public Masses are cancelled until further notice. A "private" Mass will be offered in church everyday at 9:00am. You can view a live-stream of that Mass on Facebook (www.facebook.com/olrnola) or watch the video later in the day on our parish website (www.olr-nola.org). The church will be open for private prayer every day: 10:00 am - 1:00 pm. Confessions will be offered outside in the parking lot on the Cabrini side of the church Tuesday - Saturday: 6:00pm - 6:30pm. You can schedule another time with Fr. Jonathan by calling or texting him at [###-###-####]. If you need an Anointing of the Sick, contact Fr. Jonathan at the same number.
Check our parish website for the latest information: www.olr-nola.org/coronavirus-updates.
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2020-04-09
The price of gas keeps dropping
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2020-04-18
It's hard to keep an active 1 yo entertained when the parks are closed, swim class was canceled, and I can't even take him to the supermarket for a light distraction. So, I caved. I broke down after watching him cry and say "I want," repeatedly while stretching his hands towards his sister's paints and paintbrushes. On Friday night, I figured, sure it's going to be a mess, and it might be a disaster, but provided he doesn't eat it, it's harmless.
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2020-04-18
The local dry cleaning store had a sign to attract business. It promoted the benefits of dry cleaning for killing the virus.
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2020-04-14
When I went through the drive through at CVS, I noticed they had put a sign on the window to let people know that CVS did not have the ability to give people tests. I assume people must have been asking since they have other Minute Clinic testing options.
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2020-04-14
Publix tried to create mechanisms to help with social distancing in the store. Some people followed the traffic signs. Others did not. Some people never looked up!
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2020-04-14
The week of 4/13 Publix began putting up signs to direct traffic within the stores to help with social distancing. Not everyone followed the rules.
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2020-03-29
The ”lay off” Day 7
Whatsthisday, the 307th of Archpril
The clocks changed tonight. I only know because I happened to be awake when they switched. An odd experience. One minute it’s 01:59 and the next 03:00. Yesterday was Earth Hour I’d missed that too, but Magdalena remembered and we spent a sleepy hour reading by candle and lamplight before heading to bed at 21:15. It’s a sort of tradition now.
I missed both of these events because the available bandwidth to process news is simply overwhelmed with Covid-19. For a microscopic virus, it’s footprint in the macro world has become gargantuan, undeniable. Even for those for whom denial had become a way of life.
I went to bed too early and now I can't sleep, so I’m browsing The Guardian and eating Clementines. We used to call them Mandarin oranges when I was a kid, but in Sweden, they call them Clementines for some reason. The US news is just apocalyptic. That’s a word I use far too much, but it really is the only one that fits now. Multiple, simultaneously accelerating sites of infection, the death rate approaching a thousand a day and the federal response remains jerky, incoherent, contradictory. At every news conference, Trump is like a bear in a trap, enraged, striking out blindly, snout spraying foam and blood with every snarl. He seems to sense a looming future that involves piano-wire and a sturdy lampost on some broad american boulevard. The lunacy is incomparable, without precedent in my lifetime. We are watching the Suez-cide of an empire in real time.
In Sweden, things remain comparatively calm, but the undercurrent of concern is electric. We all feel it. We all know the exponential curve is on the way for us too. Our own local "Empire", the EU, is under tremendous strain as well, but here at least the causes remain pedestrian and institutional: the predictable outcome of a deliberately weak central authority rather then some bloated Nero. When this is over, we need to take a closer look at that.
The house is cold – I’ve turned off the electric heating as spring pushes the temperatures higher, but it’s 0 degrees out there – so I creep down to start a fire. This is a delicate business at 03:30 in the morning or 02:30, whatever. The point is, it’s the middle of the night, and starting a fire tends to be a noisy obtrusive business, what with the roaring blaze, cast iron stove and so forth. I manage to get it just right, a minimum of metallic pings and ticks, the air flow turned down low to throttle brighter flames but not the coals. Satisfactory. I get back to writing.
We’ve been in voluntary lockdown for about 2 weeks now. The first week was just a conventional work from home and then the layoff came. That was week 2. Today/Tonight/This morning, we are heading into week 3. That doesn’t mean we don’t do anything and I’d planned a series of activities with a minimum of social interaction for Saturday. Two things actually, a trip to hand stuff in to the 2nd hand place (Vinden which literally translates as Attic) and the open air recycling center. The fruits of a week with too much time on my hands. To that we've added a trip to ICA Maxi for a final round of supplies buying.
The handoff at Vinden was perfect. There were some other people dropping stuff off, but we waited in the car for them to finish and then dumped our stuff. Eight bags of assorted clothes, utensils and older electronic odds and ends.
Social interactions? Zero. Then we headed to Maxi.
It’s dawning on me that this isn’t ideal. I’ve had misgivings about heading into an enormous shopping center in the middle of a global pandemic. Shopping should really be done only during off peak times and Saturday morning is about as on peak as you can get. This is feeling more and more like an avoidable error. I clutch my hand sanitizer and pull on my gloves. However, when we finally pull into the parking garage I’m encouraged. There are very few cars.
We don’t need that much stuff, so instead of a trolley we get one of those rolling baskets and head in. There are plenty of people about, but Maxi (as the name suggests) is very large. It has acres of floor space and I can immediately see that people are distributed for maximal social distancing. There is a weird synchronicity to their movements, as if everyone is generating a repelling magnetic field, they slide past each other with meters of clearance. Even when people are speaking to each other or staff, they seem to be standing on either side of a 2 meter gorge.
We pinball our way to the cat food (these goddam cats will be the death of us), traversing a wide arc through pet toys and obscure cleaning products, it’s a very lightly trafficked part of the store and we meet no one. Then down into fruit and vegetables to pick up oranges, clementines, apples and bananas. I read somewhere you can freeze fresh fruit and I want to try it. Magdalena has more practical goals in mind and selects the ingredients for a salad.
In the fruit and veg section we actually bump into our handyman, Lars. Not literally of course. He has a heart condition and we don't want to kill him, so we stand either side of the gorge and shout pleasantries. Then onto dairy for milk (reason number two, after cat food, we are here at all) and two big plugs of cheese.
Then I decide I want to get a loaf of freshly baked bread, but it’s a dilemma. No packaging. If I touch the bread with my gloves, anything on the gloves will transfer and then I’ll shove that material into my stupid fat face when we get home. I opt to remove the gloves, sanitize, pop the bread into the bags provided, then put the gloves back on. A month ago this aberrant, peculiar behavior would have attracted stares. Today, not the merest ripple of interest. The world has moved on. We head to the check outs.
They are well manned and we immediately find one with a single shopper finishing up. I realize then we should have self-scanned all this crap. Now the checkout person is going to touch all our stuff, breath on it and so forth. While they contaminate everything I’m blipping my card. The blipping is great because you just hover the card over the reader. Nothing actually touches anything. You still have to punch in the code on the keypad (I shudder at this even though I’m wearing gloves) but the whole business is so much superior to the epidemiological nightmare of handing physical cash back and forth.
Uuurgh. Cash. Filthy lucre. What a mad unsanitary idea cash is. Or more correctly in Sweden, was. Another big plus in Sweden’s fight against the spread of the virus. Cash is no longer king. It’s not even a local warlord and all its Statues were pulled down years ago.
We head out to the car, sanitize, and home.
Social interactions? Two.
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2020-04-20
During the COVID-19 stay-at-home order, New Orleanians have flocked to the city's parks to get fresh air, exercise, and socialize. Enforcing social distancing rules in the parks is a grave concern for many trying to halt the spread of the virus. This large sign entitled "COVID-19: Social Distancing in Public Parks and Trails" is on display at the entrance of City Park and details what steps visitors should take to prevent the spread of the virus while outdoors.
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2020-04-12
The "lay off" Day 21
We broke quarantine yesterday to visit Malin for her birthday. First trip to Gothenburg in about two weeks. We also met up with Richard Brodie (he had agreed to part with an elderly computer screen), ordered pizza in a restaurant and shopped for groceries on the way home. I notice that the cashiers in the ICA are all behind a massive Plexiglas screen now.
We talked about and justified it on the grounds that it was travel within a single region (Västra Götaland) we were not infected (Magdalena and I have been in complete isolation for more than the incubation period) and we would only be a group of 3. We were hand sanitizing the bejesus out of our hands all day and grouped several tasks deliberately to limit the chance of getting infected and then passing it on.
Still. A lot of brief social contacts. A LOT. Now we need re-isolate and see what turns up in the little petri dish that is us ...
Malin was in great form and settled into her lovely new apartment. As a gift, we had brought the closest thing we have that can pass as a family heirloom. Basically our first piece of furniture, a battered old chest we bought in Dún Laoghaire in 1994 when Magdalena was pregnant with Malin and we we're planning our move to our new apartment in the City Centre of Dublin. Some nice symmetry there.
Every 14:00 CET on weekdays we all tune into the Daily Folkhälsomyndigheten Show to be reassured that all is going well. So far so ... uncertain. Deaths in Sweden continue to climb and Stockholm is pretty bad. In terms of EU averages, Sweden in the aggregate is on the upper end of the mid-range, a little worse than Ireland but much better than the UK or the Netherlands. Only Stockholm can be compared to Italy or Spain, but even here, the gap remains wide. Västragötaland and Skåne remain stubbornly flat and intensive care occupations across the country have been flat for weeks with 20% capacity still available. I'd really, really like to see either the death rate or the number of new cases flattening, but honestly, we just are not seeing anything statistically significant yet. The direction on all metrics continues upward and I have to admit that worries me.
It seems like every week we're saying, "we'll know NEXT week", then next week comes and things are a little bit worse, but still clearly (apparently?) under control. Another week it is then.
The nightmare scenario is that magical tipping point where all the curves suddenly hockey-stick upward. When that happens - and we have seen this in multiple places around the world - you are looking at weeks of chaos, overrun hospitals and rapidly escalating death rates. The only thing that gets things back under control are severe lock-downs. A more intensive Swedish lock-down could be coming if these metrics don't start flattening and then dipping appreciably soon and it's vital to not leave that too late. If we've made a mistake in our approach, we need to change course. That's good science.
So, y'know, don't fuck this up Anders.
But this is a marathon not a 100 meters sprint. There will not be a vaccine for 12 - 18 months. There may be effective medications, but these will require months to test, manufacture and distribute. Strict, military lock-downs cannot continue for more than a month or two and cycles of lock-downs are surely going to play havoc with peoples mental health and the economy. From that long-haul perspective the Swedish strategy continues to have merit.
What are the rest of you thinking? Worried? Concerned we've been too relaxed?
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2020-04-20
A lawn sign outside of City Park advertises Big Easy Corona Clean. The sign reads "THESE PREMISES HAVE BEEN CLEANED BY BIG EASY CORONA CLEAN." During the COVID-19 stay-at-home order, new businesses have started up to address sanitation concerns.
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2020-04-20
A view of the Broadview Seafood storefront, signage limits occupancy to 10 customers in the store at a time.
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2020-04-20
Broadview Seafood displays signage to limit the store occupancy to 10 customers at a time during the Coronavirus pandemic.
