Living in coronavirusworld 7: People are dying

3/29

RIP DeJuan

So how do we distinguish a weekend? As I thought about that, I realized that the online consulting work I’ve bene doing is in  fact, work, and I could commit to not doing any work on the weekend, just to have some semblance of a weekend. Although I did take tine for the AIDS network meeting on Saturday afternoon, I won’t do anything more with that until the weekend is past.

                                                                                                               ****

My friend and sometimes singing partner Steve has not been feeling  well. He had a slight fever and…He seems to be better. But. Going to do a full quarantine for two weeks.  This afternoon he does a special “American Songbook” show where people can send him requests and he will play and they can “perform.”  His audience is having a tough time with the American  Songbook concept. No Carpenters. No Carol King. He does do a song of mine written in that piano jazz/cabaret vein, “I’m Not in Love.”  The second time around, I choose “Blue Skies,” just like we recently did in Florida. It’s a nice break. 

American Sing Book singers at Rudy's, Lake Worth, Fla.

After the song session, he hosts another of his “BS” sessions. Most participants are from Florida, where he winters. Among the topics is a longish exploration of natural home remedies for the virus. I always find these somewhat annoying starting with the assertion that they actually work. I always feel that ok, if this really works, why isn’t Gov.Cuomo telling us? And there’s always a sense of establishment medicine’s prejudice against natural remedies and semi-secret knowledge. I think believing in these is a way to convinced ourselves we can have some control in a situation where everything seems out of control. And sometimes they actually work. Finally the beaches in Lake Worth have been closed. But the Governor of Florida has been very slow to act. 

                                                                                                              ****

                                                                       Another cold and wet day to be outside.

                                                                                                            ****

The Sunday night We Love Songwriters Open Mic has its second virtual session having debuted last Sunday. (So glad all of today’s on line sessions have worked.) I’m trying to pull together another virus song, but am not quite ready so I’m happy when CC asks to sing my tongue  in  cheek Open Mic Lament (Read the Room). We spend as much time talking with one another as we do playing which we don’t normally do when we’re at Bar 9, our regular  Sunday night spot where Lin Manuel Rivera’s Love Supreme Freestyle tried out their Broadway material and where Cecily Strong has more than once been in the audience.  I’m getting to know my colleague singer-songwriters better than I ever have.  So there is that.

3/30

It’s a warmer day. On my walk, on the edge of the park,  I find a makeshift memorial for someone named DeJuan.  Was it CoVid19? It’s not clear, but there are now over 1550 CoVid19 deaths in New York. Yes, people are dying. It’s real.

My old West Park Church is having a Bible Study based on my recent blog on Psalm 23.There are some glitches getting started, but it comes off. At 7 PM, we hear from one person’s window the nightly cheers for medical workers on their way to the hospitals. (While the workers appreciate this, what they really need are masks and equipment.) There’s a feeling that things may/will never be the same. Most of us are over 70. Not in my lifetime, says Russ. It’s been a very clear sign that the way we’ve been doing things globally just doesn’t work. But do  we have the creativity and will power to do what is necessary? We vacillate between hope and despair. Some in the group are frustrated by the “younger generation” but I see a lot there. We do feel the shadow of death surrounding us, we’re all closer to the end the the beginning. It is sometimes hard to believe that God is truly with us, that we are being protected. For most of us, it’s not so much death we fear as the complete breakdown of society. We are also aware that the disease is not an equalizer, that for many it is is such worse. Especially the homeless population. I now learn that the shelter.we volunteer and serve a meal at the first Sunday of every month has closed. We will not be serving next week. What has happened to all these women?

The songwriters workshop meets again. Probably over half the songs offered are efforts to deal with the virus. That’s what we do. Some are cynical, Some satiric. A strong sense of anger, even bitterness. I’ve been trying to repurpose a song for the virus. This is what I came up with:

Everything’s Going to Be Okay (coronaversion)

We live in a season of virus in the air

Keep your distance, don’t touch, better beware

We live in a season of staying inside

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide

And I knew my troubles ain’t no worse than yours

But troubles are still troubles that’s for sure

How are we supposed to make plans my friend?

Are we closer to the beginning, or the end?

They say this is a “strange and confusing time”

I keep checking, but I’m feeling fine

How to understand, how to make sense

When keeping apart is the best defense

What am I supposed to understand 

About a virus everywhere in every land?

Until the day when we’re set free again

I miss the touch of lovers, touch of friends

I step outside just to ease my mind

Look around in there, not sure what you’ll find

I try real hard not to get depressed

Try real hard not to give in to the stress

I look up the street and what do I see?

An old man leans on his cane looks up at me

Says “son, I just got one thing to say.

Everything’s gonna be ok”

Not sure if I believe him but it sure felt good to hear him say

Everything’s gonna be ok.

We live in a  season of virus in the air

Keep your distance, don’t touch, better beware

We live in a season of staying inside

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide

Still I believe everything will be ok

Maybe enough for another day

Maybe just enough for today

My friends say, but it is not going to be ok.  And you do not believe it. And the more I think about it,  the more I know they are right.  I don’t believe it. I need to reflect and have another go at this….

*

Living in coronavirusworld 6:..and sometimes we might just win

3/28

Yes. Cherry blossoms...

I check in with the Presbyterian Aids Network to see how they are doing.  They would like to change their name to the HIV Network since so many people are now living with AIDS.  The emphasis is moving from fighting AIDS per se to harm reduction for those living with it.  On the national and international level, organizations are changing their names as well, e.g. US Conference on AIDS (now HIV) and AIDS.Gov to HIV.Gov. That was of course was the conversation before….This coronavirustime is fraught with anxiety an da sense of deja vu. On the one hand, people with compromised immune systems are among the most vulnerable. And as friends begin to die, it brings back haunting memories. It’s a mental health issue as much as the physical threat. There is a desperate need to hear a voice  say, “We see you, we hear you…”

                                                                                                                 ****

After mild days, it’s back to cold and damp. Still it’s good to be out. For the first time, there is a line to get into the grocery store. Neatly spaced by at least six feet, overseen by security. Inside, I'm interested in where shortages are. And that the in-house hickory barbecue is shut down, as well as the sushi bar. When I go to check out, there’s a strange bag experience. Over the last several years, I’ve been committed to bringing my own grocery bags to the store with me. And New York City has recently enforced a plastic bag ban. But when I present my bag, the masked check out woman shakes her head and says they are no longer allowed to use our bags. We have to use their paper bags, for $.25 a bag.  So I awkwardly walk home with two full paper grocery bags.

                                                                                                                      ****

When I hear the sirens, see the ambulance, it feels different now…

                                                                                                                      ****

For tonight’s cultural offerings, I begin with the “Third Coast Percussion Ensemble.”  My planned follow-up event, like about half of these streaming performances, just doesn’t work. So I turn to the just released “Crip Camp,” the second in the Obamas “Higher Ground”productions, it was their first to be entered in the 2020 Sundance Festival. (https://www.netflix.com/title/81001496)  It is a beautiful, powerful and even revolutionary film. It tells the story of how a summer camp in the Catskills became the seedbed for a truly revolutionary movement. Camp Jened was a camp for people with disabilities staffed by “hippies” in the 1970’s. Which simply meant the staff members believed that all people have inherent worth and value just as they are and are worthy of acceptance and love. For many of the campers, this was the first time in the life they could feel like just people, just as they are. With wants and needs and even sexuality. And to have their voices heard. And to be able to have control over  their own lives. 

Former camper Jim Lebrecht (along with Nicole Newnham) directs and thanks to the Peoples Video Theatre, has lots of black and white footage from the 1970s to work with.  The political part of the film begins with the passage of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973.  Unfortunately, the Section 504 of that Act, intended to prevent discrimination, was slow to be enforced. So in 1977,  movement began led by Jened vet, Judy Heumann, and some of her closest Jened friends, began an occupation of the Bay Area Health Education and Welfare Office. As food began to run low, the Black Panther Party stepped in to supply daily food, including hot dinners. (“We believe in working to make a better world. You are making a better world,” they said.) When no response was forthcoming from Secretary Joseph Califano, they took their struggle to DC, even to his front lawn. Ultimately, after much resistance, Califano signed the order declaring enactment of 504 mandatory for any institution receiving federal funds. An end to “separate but equal.”  Finally, the 1990 American Disability Act ended both public and private discrimination.  Of course we still have a long way to go. “If I still have to be happy just to have an accessible bathroom, we’re not there yet,” says Judy Heumann.

The film helps to underscore that the hope and optimism of the 60s - 70’s did have some real victories. The underlying story of course, is how life changing camp experiences, with dignity and respect and acceptance, could  lead to a belief that changing the world was possible and worth trying. And also a reminder that in the ongoing struggle for a more just, humane, inclusive and sustainable world, the struggle itself has beauty and meaning and sometimes we might just win. We need to remember that.

Living in Coronavirusworld 5: Have a good weekend

3/27

Still it's spring

When I left my therapy session Thursday, my therapist Marvin said "have a good weekend,” and I thought “what does that even mean now?” I said, “thanks, it’s all kind of the same, isn’t it?” Maybe I’ll just commit myself to not “work” over the weekend. But one day flows into the next. As I walk up Broadway, I pass by Shakespeare & Company. A week ago Tuesday, I was  amazed they were still open. I stopped in an empty store and bought a copy of “Where the Crawdads Sing” so I could read it with my mom.(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078GD3DRG/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1)  I stopped to meditate at 72nd Street and heard someone say” Are you asleep?” It was Rodne, heading home. Come to think it, he’s the last the human being I’ve seen “in the flesh.” And Shakespeare & Company the last open “non-essential” shop. 

A week ago Friday was my first “ZOOM performance” on a national streaming event by the Peoples Music Network.  https://www.peoplesmusic.org/)      Great to be with people for around the country singing “topical” songs. I shared my new song Listen (still in process) :

Listen

They were the first to live the truth of this pandemic

So much unknown, so much to fear

As weeks went by, they began to listen

And were amazed at what at last they see and hear

For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Wuhan heard the birds sing again.

In the streets of Assisi, voices fill the square

From open windows their songs fill the air

To tell the lonely people, sheltered in their homes

You neighbors are with you, you re not alone

          For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Assisi heard their neighbors  sing again.

If we take the time to listen, take the time to learn

Turn away from all that keeps  us from what  we truly need

Heed the warning, heed the sign

That points to a new morning, and points to a new time

For the air was clear

And the sky turned blue 

And the people of Wuhan heard the birds sing again.

We’ve been given a moment to stop and catch our breath

A moment to decide between what is life and what is death

If we are truly open to a time of rebirth

We might learn to heal ourselves, we might learn to heal the earth

For the air will be clear

And the sky will turn blue 

And the people of the earth will hear the birds sing again.

So I was looking forward to tonight’s gathering. Well, it’s not a perfect world. Last night, my friend Peter’s “concert” had “buffering issues.” Tonight my friend Lara’s concert never came on.  And I could never figure out how to get into the PMN room, though I could see it and  hear it. Frustrating, but so it is.

****

Spent hours on hold today trying reach New York State Income Tax staff since the message told me “workers are reassigned to assist with Coronavirus crisis”….Never did get an answer.

****

Talk with my friend Uli in Berlin. Longtime peace activist, Berlin Fellowship of Reconciliation. Part of my International Sanctuary Declaration work group. He hopes that when this is  over, we will start again with new knowledge. Wiser, more caring and responsible about the earth. Well, I hope so too, but....I remember how I thought after 9-11 we (the US) would have a better understanding of the world, The vulnerability and interconnectedness we shared with the world. Instead, we bombed Iraq.  Still, we can hope.

                                                  ****

Talk with my friend Bill in Portland. The March Madness brackets that never got made. The games not played. He tells me he watches TV and listens to music. And the neighbors come outside and they talk across the driveway. I wish I had a porch. I'd do afternoon cocktails and document the scene like Uniwatch Paul.  Or a front stoop like my friend Paul Stein who sat out on his and played an "emergency accordion" concert. 

My son Nate attempted cornbread. I wish I had someone to cook for.

                                                         ****

Two of the four guys shooting craps on my street are wearing masks.

Craps shooters

Their dice game is every bit as intrepid as the postal service.

Living in Coronavirusworld 4: We lean on the least

3/26

Turnstile Marketplace ghost town

I have a talk with a friend in Pennsylvania. She’s a disabilties consultant for the Presbyterians, a chaplain at a disabilities residential facility and an interim pastor. Many of  her  clients at the residential facility have spent their lives there. The virus wreaks havoc with their care. As we talk about our lives, she says something I hadn’t thought about yet. “We are leaning on the least of these,”she said. “Grocery clerks, pharmacy clerks, deli workers, delivery people…they are putting themselves at risk to keep us going.” I think about it, and she’s right. Those at that end of  the workforce are out in the midst of it. 

I have to do serious reflection about my therapy appointment.  For some reason, my rehab place is still open. I thought we were switching to video, but they called and asked if I was coming in. I thought about it, would I be putting anyone else at risk by going in? Was it responsible?  When I realized I would have have no contact with any other human beings, I felt I could go and feel reasonably ok about it 

As I passed through the Turnstile Marketplace at Columbus Circle, a veritable ghost town, I remembered how last Tuesday it was full of life and two days later my footsteps echoed down the hall. One week later, only two of the twenty eating places remain open, a doughnut shop and a pizza place. (That’s a healthy combination!) I get to my place, get my therapy and head home. Deciding to take a long walk up Broadway. Not always clear why one place is open and another closed. Most banks now closed though some remain open. Why is Starbucks closed when they could do takeout? Just not clear. Why is AT&T mobile open and Verizon closed? It’s very confusing. I pass by Shakespeare & Co. and remember how last Tuesday, amazingly, it was still open.  I went in. The only customer. Bought a copy of  Where the Crawdads Sing so I could read and talk about it with my homebound mom. With the closing of her assisted care facility’s dining room, she’s virtually confined to her room. 

Walking up the street, seeing all the masks, I feel I’m in an  episode of HBO’s “Watchmen.” In a series where almost everyone, good guys and bad, wear masks, I remember two quotes. First, “Masks make men cruel”. And then:  "You can't heal under a mask, Angela. Wounds need air." I wonder how long until I put one one on and how long until we unmask once again. 

Today was supposed to be opening day of baseball season. I wear my Pirate hat. Finish my walk. My meditation. You now have  to enter the buses through exit door, to protect the drivers. We all sit six feet or more apart.

Tonight my friend Peter, the one who had the off-Broadway run of his musical about Robert Moses, Bulldozer, was going to have a show at my neighborhood club Silvana. His show is on Facebook Live instead. For the next 24 hours any proceeds of sales of his cd or other music sales will go to support places he’s performed the have supported him that are now closed.(https://store.cdbaby.com/Artist/PeterGalperin)  So it’s a night of his original music and craft beers. We do what we can.

And lean on the least….

Living in coronavirusworld 3: our life is a hospice

3/25

Faith in love 

Russ says that if this were a normal Wednesday, he’d be at the counter at Tom’s , “..the world’s ,most famous restaurant…” having a coffee and waiting for the rest of us to arrive. But this isn’t a normal Wednesday. And here we all are, right on time, gathered together in Zoomworld.

Last week was our first time to meet this way. The decree ended our debate. Hard to give up Tom’s, of Seinfeld fame. Where every Wednesday at 8 A.M. our Underground group meets in the front window booth. For years, we’d be there, Cornell West and James Cone in the back booth. Cornell always stopping to bless us on his way in. And over there, the Episcopal Bishop and Dean of St. John the Divine. Assorted neighborhood characters, sundry Columbia students and outside our window, an intermittent flow of selfie-taking Seinfeld fans and tourists. But it’s just us in our Zoom boxes.

I’m outraged by “..cure worse than the problem..” talk. But brother Steve B. reminds us it’s not that simple. We have decided, for example, that 40000 death a year is a reasonable price to pay for the freedom to drive 70 miles an hour. Among other comments:

* After rising from the dead, Jesus “self-quarantined” saying “do not touch me..”

* Something about this feels like the down end of 80’s Seattle based music and Kurt Cobain,…., Joel says

* We’e going to have to reach out to people we don’t know

* Joel reminds us that in Steven King’s “the Dark Tower,”  19 is the number of hell

* We conform that CoVid19 is Corona Virus Disease 2019

* a bar in Brooklyn is offering a liter of margaritas for a roll of toilet paper (take out only!)

As we have been talking about Nahum Ward-Lev’s The Liberating Path of the Hebrew Prophets: Then and Now, our discussion turns to how family based religions are better equipped to stand up to crises than hierarchical ones.(https://www.orbisbooks.com/the-liberating-path-of-the-hebrew-prophets.html)  Ward-Lev also argues that we ultimately have to choose between placing  our faith and trust in power, or in love. I argue that from a community organizing perspective, power is the goal, lack of power the problem. Power in Spanish is poder, the same word as can or to be able, as in the farmworkers slogan, si se puede, or as Obama put it, yes we can.  Steve agrees that it’s not power to itself, but the uses of power. I am especially thankful for my friend Peter Heltzel’s book with Alexia Salvatierra, Faith Rooted Organizing: Mobiliizing the church in service to the world.  In classic faith based organizing, faith is a means toward the end of organizing, a base for organizing. On the other hand, in faith rooted organizing, living out faith is the end and organizing the  expression of or means towards that end…(https://www.amazon.com/Faith-Rooted-Organizing-Mobilizing-Church-Service/dp/0830836616)

In Ward-Lev’s understanding of liberation, we need to move beyond simply a material based analysis, as important as that is.  Ultimately, we are led to a critical analysis of our relationship with all creation. In his understanding, there is a connection between creation and creativity and liberation rooted in mutual relationships. And of course, central to relationship is conversation. Joel remembers that his father used to say, “if we how sacred our words were, we wouldn’t speak so much. In this connection to creation, Brother Steve H reminds us of the verse from Song of Songs, “the time of the singing  bird has come..” We have some serious conversation around Ward-Lev’s idea that our call is to “change the world,” Steve B objects strongly to those because in the end, “we have no idea.”  I remind us of the Jewish tradition of Tikkun Olam, healing the earth around us. What has inspired Jewish culture throughout the ages even to secular progressive politics. And Steve B says, “ Yes, the world around us…” we act with hope, having no idea what is to happen. 

An perhaps we need to move beyond WAR language, less “fighting disease” and more “building health.”  Sam says we are being reminded just how fragile we are. In the parable of the house built on sand, we are not the builder but the sand. 

We circle back around. NO acceptable loss of people. Faith in love over faith in power. Brother Steve H quotes 2 Chronicles &:14 again: if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

We agree that it’s about building the kingdom rather, the reign or realm or community of the living presence of God. Sam reminds us….Our life is a hospice. 

Even on ZOOM, it’s good to be together. 

Later in the day, I talk with my friend Ann in Los Angeles. One of the leaders of my denominations reproductive options ministry advocacy group. (PARO) Now an interim minister, for over 30 years she had a ministry of accompaniment recovery and resurrection with prostitutes. (The Mary Magdalene Project) We talk of how Ohio and Texas have weaponized the virus to declare abortions non-essential procedures during the crisis. At least 4 other states are leaning this way. But Ann feels sure that none of these states are prepared to face lawsuits and their accompanying  costs.  We both bemoan our country’s capacity to deal with a crisis like this and the potential of what could happen. In Ann’s classic way she says, “in coronavirusworld we are a shit hole country.”

I keep thinking of all the small ways this gets real. On Tuesday, I learned that the woman who has been cleaning my apartment for over 20 years will not be coming any time soon. That’s a problem. Our project won’t get done. On Sunday, my doorbell rung. Looked like someone in a space suit with a weapon. It was an exterminator. Been struggling with cockroaches. (Seems they are stronger than any virus..) She comes in, does her work. Leaves. Seems to work, I see dead roach bodies. But by late night, they are sneaking back out. The only way to end this is to get Nicky our super to set off a bomb. But to do that, I’d have to leave for 4 hours or so. And there is no place to go. 

Living in Coronavirusworld 2: Sometimes loving your neighbor is staying away

3/24

virtual St. Patrick's

Yesterday I did my Monday weekly planning at home for the first  time. I usually like to go to my favorite coffee shop, get an almond croissant and latte and plan out the week.  Last Monday, I thought I had one last day before the ordered Tuesday lockdown. But I found the shop had  already converted to takeout only, hoping to make it that way. (Now even takeout is closed.) I got my coffee and croissant and headed to A Philip Randolph Square to sit. The regulars there were in heavy conversation about “martial law,” which they figure is next. That’s how it is in Harlem.

****

Tuesday I went to my physical therapy, still open, on 54th Street.  Walking through the Turnstyle Underground Marketplace at Columbus Circle, most restaurants and food places  were still open. Takeout only, of course. Folks scattered at tables in the concourse, socially distant for the most part. 

New York City Presbytery met by ZOOM and voted to advise all Presbyterian congregations to cease all in person activity “until further notice.” The strongest opposition came from racial/ethnic congregations concerned about remaining “faithful to Christ” regardless of the danger. It took some explanation to make clear it wasn’t about ourselves accepting risk, but that our accepting risk endangers others. That sometimes loving your neighbor means staying away. As a retired pastor with a small pension and social security, I depend on guest preaching, consulting and weddings to augment my income. I began to understand that I would be losing around $1000 month in addition to my lost music gig income. It hurts. Of course, many friends have. Lost all their income. Those projected $1000 or so government checks will be a limited value.

The St.Pat hat collection

At 7pm we gather by ZOOM. The gang that accompanied theologian/activist Peter Heltzel on his annual St. Patrick’s night pub crawl. And traditional 7 PM toast. This year it would be virtual. Wearing green and with my own pint, we toasted, Peter’s son Tristan on his lap. Slainte. 

.....and no place to go....

****

At last night's ...Songwriters' Exchange, one of our youngest members sang about her lost prom and graduation .She was embarassed to put it in the song. Seemed so trivial. "No. Sing about your life," we told her. "We get to the universal through the individual. And this is your life, and your life is not trivial..." All those once in a lifetime experiences gone. 

                                             ****

Today the Center at West Park’s Program Committee met by ZOOM.  It was supposed to be about planning the next season’s residencies but had to focus on cancelled spring programming first. Productions cut off in mid-run. Possible make up in a summer Phoenix Festival? Good idea, but what can we know?

I talk with a chaplain who directs a spiritual  care program for persons with intellectual and developmental disabilities. One of only half a dozen or so programs like it in the country. As a day program, all the clients are now homebound. She has  to arrange over 180 home visits by a minimal staff.  The strain is already showing. And how long can their visits continue?

I hear noice outside. Three of my neighbors have been talking on the stoop. The police have stopped to tell then to break it up. I mean they do this under normal circumstances. It's Harlem. A younger man is quite riled. An older man, the young man told the police was "one of our elders," tries to calm him down. "Let it go,"he says, "they just doin' their job..."

The president has said he’d like to “open up for business again” by Easter. “Ready and raring to go!”  he says.  “The cure can’t be worse than the problem,” he says. What world does he live in? Of all the ignorant things he has said, for some reason this enrages me more than usual. We are so unprepared as it is.Visions of stacked bodies. And the Lieutenant Governor of Texas says that if grandparents have to put their lives at risk, even die to save the economy, he’s “all in.”  This grandparent is not. The fact that we have elected officials who think like this both offends and frightens me. Little hope that w ehe the wisdom -or will- to do what’s necessary.

Today was the 40th anniversary of Oscar Romero’s martyrdom.  Even in the midst of coronavirusworld, Oscar Romero, presente.