3/23
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| Closed tonight |
One week ago was the last day before it all shut down. Our Wednesday morning reflection group’s ethical conversation about whether we shook meet in person or not, brought to an abrupt close. Conversations about whether to continue Friday night open mic or not, likewise over. The last dominoes had fallen. There would be no St.Patrick’s Day pub crawl this year. I decided to go to my favorite pub, St. James Gate, to hopefully find my friends, especially RL in his appointed “Bullshit Corner,” and have one last shot. But when I got to the Gate, it was already closed. Maybe I could find RL at his alternate spot a few blocks down the street. Looking in the window at Frankie Mac’s (formerly MacAleers of NYPD Blue fame), I saw Dion. And Rodne. And Dierdre. So I went in. One last Jameson’s on the rocks. Tomorrow would also be Rodne’s birthday. No celebration. Mandola Joe sees us and comes in, keeping a safe distance. RL already home. It would be awhile before I see him again. We enjoy our drinks with an underlying sense of sadness….that was last Monday.
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| Dion, me and Rodne |
On this day, I enter into another day in Coronavirusworld. At 12:30 p.m., our International Sanctuary Declaration working group, gathering from around the world, need at our regular place, ZOOM. We are together from New York City, Arizona, El Paso/Juarez, Canada, Germany, the Netherlands…all dedicated to just migration. The updates from around the world are chilling:
* In New York City, many food pantries serving the homeless people are shuttered. There are serous worries about conditions in the shelters. And where the homeless population will fall in the anticipated triage system of health care.
* Both the US-Mexico AND US-Canada borders are closed. Meaning getting vulnerable people into Canada is no longer possible. And the streets of Juarez fill up with people unable to cross. NO asylum claims are being heard. Anyone found in the US will be immediately deported.
* Even so, people continue to find their way into the most deadly parts of the Sonora desert. Medical volunteers even more constrained than ever.
* In Amsterdam, legal prostitution is shut down. Even in the compassionate environment of Amsterdam, vast numbers of sex workers are trafficked women. Or young men. The coronavirus leads to a global crisis for sex workers who will turn to more risky and dangerous ways to support themselves.
* Lost in the chaotic US response is any thought as to how to deal with “social distancing” and other simple health safety issues let alone testing
* Starting in Elizabeth, New Jersey, three ICE detention centers are in the midst of hunger strikes for safety, even rudimentary sanitation and humane treatment
* Growing concerns over the implications of Coronavirus in the reality of US mass incarceration
Needless to say, it was a sober meeting.
After several warm days, where I developed a routine of a 30 minute walk and 15 minute meditation in the park, it’s cold and raining. Nevertheless, the walk keeps me sane. So out I go. Almost home, I slip on wet pavement twisting my knee.
It’s my son Nate’s birthday, I can’t be there. His brother Dan has made him pulled pork barbeque. I wish I were there.
The Jack Hardy Songwriter’s Exchange meets, what else, via ZOOM. This exchange meets every Monday, keeping the tradition started by Jack Hardy alive.
About two dozen of us have gathered tonight. Most of us are struggling through our music to make sense of what’s going on around us, some cynical, some angry, some didactic and provocative, others indirect and suggestive. I’m surprised to have found a sense of hope, inspired by a poem currently circulating on the internet.
Here are my lyrics:
Listen
They were the first to live the truth of this pandemic
So much unknown, so much to fear
As weeks went by, they begin to listen
And are 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.
As always, my friends are quick with their critiques: get your verb tenses straight, one verse too many, lose the third; try it as a waltz…
And as always they are pretty much right….
It’s good to be together. I find these ZOOM get togethers and the effort to hold onto normal takes energy. I feel affirmed, but tired after everyone. It’s like we’re hanging in there but with a feeling of dread right under the surface. It’s been one week…..
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