slapmeagain-blog

[slapmeagain-blog]

Have you seen my Picasso? (unlikely conversations....)

21 November 2021

I'm standing at the bathroom sink in my room clipping my nails after a shower when M wanders in and says nonchalantly, "Where's the Picasso?" I say, "What?" Not because it's an odd or an even surprising question, I'm just not sure what he said at all. As I slowly go deaf and still have not gotten around to choosing earbuds, I have a hard time saying the words, "hearing aids," He repeats, "The Picasso," in a slightly louder voice, but careful not to be so loud that I accuse him of treating me like I'm a deaf old man. He continues, "I'm writing an ad for Artsy and need to copy the provenance off the back. I want to sell it." "I have no idea," I say, without looking up, continuing to clip away. "Didn't you put it away somewhere?" He says he doesn't remember, "I just thought you might have seen it." The funny part of the conversation is that we are talking about a 'real' Picasso, and it doesn't strike either of us as odd that a, we're talking about a Picasso that's, a, in our house, or that b, neither of us seems too fussed that we don't know where it is. If only!

I can count the number of times I've seen a Picasso in someone's home on one hand. But this Picasso, it turns out, is just a print of a drawing that Picasso once did of a friend. It's not signed, not numbered, and there are a lot of the same print out there. But priced from $150 to $1500, depending on condition and how stupid you are, you, too, can have an actual Picasso in your home. This one was an impulse buy from an antique store in Hudson, NY, after one-too-many of those brunch cocktails you find on Warren Street on Sundays. M regrets buying it. I think it's a great story and want to keep it, celebrate it, as a lesson to Sunday drunks everywhere. We'll see..... maybe I'll buy it from him, while sober, to legitimize it in some way.

Actually, now would be a good time to buy it since I'm on antibiotics for two weeks and not drinking due to a tick bite I got last week. I can hang the print above the 13-volume set of hardcover 19th century books I bought that same day in the same store. They should just serve cocktails in the antique stores. We'd save money.

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Lovely kids....

28 November 2021

For the first time, and most likely our last, we invited friends to come to stay -- with their two children -- this Thanksgiving weekend in the "little house" we moved into in May. M stayed here at the house with them to be able to keep an eye on our cat, Lily, but in the evening, I would go over to the nearby Green Street house to sleep at my ex's place, with her fiance and 3 empty bedrooms. Let me just say that that turned out to be my favorite part of each day, and if I'd been able to think of a legitimate reason to go to bed at 6 p.m., I might have.

Don't get me wrong, we love our friends, and their kids, very much. They are like family to us. But we have come to understand the miracle of patience that nature gives natural parents, and maybe even grandparents, that mere observers can't fathom. I suppose there are a number of factors working together that determine degrees of unpleasantness in spending extended periods of time with someone else's children.

Obviously, the temperament of the object child(ren) is a big factor, as is how the parents respond to them in different situations. In this case, the older, at 5, whom I used to think was difficult, turned out to be nearly perfect compared to his younger brother. The younger, a 2-and-a-half year old, who at one point in his young life I really felt a special bond toward because even before he could walk he seemed to have a certain admirable independence and kind of a knowing smirk on his face, seemed to toggle between crying, beating on his mom, tearing at some piece of art or furniture, or the cat, to pieces. And when he wasn't busy in those activities, he rested prone on the floor and simply shrieked at the top of his voice. Lily actually hissed for the very first time since her adoption 9 months ago when he approached. So with him up and screaming at 7, I was grateful there was no room for me to sleep in the house.

I suppose I should mention the actual Thanksgiving meal, at a nice restaurant in Saugerties. The idea of trying to cook and serve a meal to potentially 14 people in the new house was just too much to pull off. I am nearly 70, after all. (Fortunately, 6 declined the invite this year. Kingston is a long way from the city. I can't remember that last time I didn't cook Thanksgiving dinner at home in Brooklyn over the 25 years we lived in that house. The restaurant sat 8 of us at a round corner table on the mezzanine level, and there was no one for the first seating at the only other table in an alcove beyond ours. What a stroke of good luck! But I have to say that both kids were, intentionally or not, on their best behavior and there was plenty of room for them to play on the floor with their hot wheels during most of the long six-course meal. The food was good given that it was essentially mass produced, delivering dry appetizers and wilted salads. But having grown up on Butterball and Swanson's, it was fine. At the other side of us, was an even larger group of 12 people, seated a similarly round table, each of whom looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. But I could just be projecting. I studied each one in turn. The younger ones, well-branded and suitably entitled, and attractive looked college age or slightly older, the only 'father-type' was very preppy, right down to the bow tie, and the two moms, sisters maybe, must enjoy a very large botox budget. Only the grandmother looked like a fairly normal person probably half a generation older than me. I'm guessing this is a special occasion for her, to have the family all together for a meal. But back to hosting!

The amount of space in which there is to entertain, or hide from the kids, as and when necessary, is key. The last time they stayed with us we were in a 6000 square foot place on nearly an acre, where it was pretty easy to disappear to our rooms on the third floor. The older one was afraid of getting lost and the younger one couldn't yet walk. In the little house, that's just not possible. Good weather is also a huge advantage as is a large, enclosed yard! Rain and temps in the 30s on Friday would have done us in had I not bought them tickets for the Catskill Train Ride at noon which broke up and saved the day. Which is to say, planned activities are essential, in and out of the house. We took them later that afternoon to Rose Hill Farm on the east side of the Hudson north of Red Hook for a warm cider. The sun peaked through, and it even snowed a little which lifted everyone's spirits, and for the adults, it's a beautiful drive, though I have a suspicion the parents spent most of the time in their car arguing about the kids on the way up. But the little one did fall asleep and didn't wake up till we were back at the house! Which meant mom had to sit in the car while we were enjoying that diversion.

Plenty of snacks for the kids is also a must, good nutrition can wait till they get home to Brooklyn. We also had the presence of mind spend some time at Target the day before they arrived. Hot wheels and balls to kick around (outside) help. And if the kids are old enough, UNO is something you can actually enjoy doing with them, as long as they are winning. But just as snacks are for the kids, vodka and wine are imperative for the adults. (Hopefully one of the parents will stay sober.) Unfortunately, I am on a course of antibiotics so my evening martinis were not a possibility, though at one point I was well willing to risk full-blown Lyme disease for a double. Unfortunately, that make me the obvious designated adult. In that regard, the timing of this visit was terrible! These 11 days are the longest I've gone without a drink in 16 years, since I was at a 10-day silent vipassana meditation retreat in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada just after my first grandchild was born. That was also when I quit smoking tobacco. Needless to say, I could have benefited from both this weekend (To be clear, I mean the vodka and tobacco as meditation would have been impossible.)

[slapmeagain-blog]

Uff. And then Betty White died.

1 January 2022.

First thing I did today was text Jurek in Poland to wish him a happy 2020. He responded with a "?" to which I responded, "It feels like we're stuck in time..." Weak, but better than admitting I don't know what year it is. I'll just call it a cognac concussion from NYE last night.

All Christmas and New Years plans cancelled. Cole and Carter (son and grandson) both have COVID, light symptoms, like most of our friends who have been hit these last few weeks of 2021. US cases were up 100% on the week to nearly 400k. Seems like everyone I know in NYC has caught it in the past few weeks. We dodged bullet when we went into the city for lunch and dinner a couple of weeks ago. We had lunch in the West Village Dante's with Bob and Brigid. They've both got it. We had dinner and Strageways in Williamsburg with Jamie and family, and Josh. Josh got it. Giorgia and Ehren both got it. Ally and Peter are in the US from Geneva for the holidays. Supposed to train into the city Wednesday to have lunch with them. Have proposed cancelling.

Last night we cooked dinner at home and had Hedy and Firth over to join us. Jamie and family had planned to come up for the weekend but we rescheduled because of the omicron spike and because Siarah was sick all last week; fever, flu symptoms. Don't think it was COVID but with all that's going on, better to hunker down. Only silver lining is that most cases seem to be mild or asymptomatic among those who are vaccinated and boosted. Let's hope the next variant isn't more resistant to existing vaccines, and thank the gods we had the technology to develop the vaccines at all in such a short period of time. Even so, hospitals in some states are overloaded due to the number of unvaccinated people. More children that in past spikes are requiring hospitalization.

[slapmeagain-blog]

Streams of consciousness...

18 September 2023

Let's try this again. 5:47 p.m., asparagus steaming, potatoes boiling, salmon filets defrosting. Typing at the kitchen counter, one black cat passing back and forth between me and my keyboard, another on the floor behind me wondering how long it will take till I cave. So transparent. All either really wants is another treat. This kitchen is like a cat drive thru.. rub up against somebody, bat you eyelids to look as in love as possible, and treats will follow. No one can resist.

Just got back from a quick MRI at the medical mall. Second one this year. First one was for the prostate, this one for the middle thoracic spine.

My prostate confounds my urologists because it refuses to get smaller and no matter how hard they look or how many biopsies they do, they can't find any cancer; the silver lining. So, three urologists, as many biopsies, , overlapping PSAs, a transurethral resection of the prostate (turp), and an MRI later, I take meds to reduce urgency and frequency. By and large, the pills keep me from pissing myself but I do get into trouble now and again, usually flying, or in a big box store, or on the thruway where I don't have fairly easy, quick access to a toilet. There's nothing more frustrating than a retail establishment that, doesn't, "I'm sorry... have public restrooms. But if you go down the street H&M...." I keep an empty Swell bottle handy in the car and am not at all opposed to public pissing when necessary. I also tell the cabin attendants in advance of takeoff that if I'm up it's because I don't want to pee on their seat. Mostly they get it. If Americans could just be more Dutch, and have urinals in every major tourist intersection, life would be a lot simpler, and for me, pleasant.

The only place I've ever seen that in the US is in Staten Island on race day at the NY Marathon starting line. It's a wonderful view as you come off the Verrazano Bridge on the shuttle bus in the right lane with 100 or so men facing you pissing away with nothing but a chain link fence between you and them. Worth the price of the race entry fee just for that. Reminds me of Madelyn Kahn in "History of the World Part I", choosing bacchanalia 'guests' from among pretorian guards lined up in front of her at the palace naked from the waist down. In this scene, the view is from behind, with the empress facing them inspecting their equipment, "Him...., him, HIM!...., not him....." Sorry for the digression.

Downstream......

September 21, 2023

Roast herbed tomatoes. Chopped fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, garlic, breadcrumbs, sale/pepe e olio. 275 degrees for 2.5 hours

September 22

Going down the 3 steps out back to clip the herbs in socks I slipped and literally hit the deck. When you are in your 70s and you fall, it's a bit different than at 20. Young'uns tend to jump right back up before anyone sees them. 70 somethings tend to lay there and take stock, let the shock wear off and get a sense of the extent of the damage before they move, even on a public sidewalk, as humiliating as that is. Left foot a bit numb but doesn't feel like any broken bones. Ankle seems fine. Get up slowly and limp back inside and pull a wine cuff out of the freezer and stick my foot in that then continue cooking. Thinking about how it'll feel in the morning and whether I'll be able to go for my walk.

I've been walking for exercise with a goal of 3-5 miles a days. Most times I walk in town, sometimes on one of the local rail trails. There's even a 'linear park' connecting midtown to uptown. it's a charming green space with not too people and only a few addicts sitting in the shade of the two short tunnels under Albany Ave and I-587 but they don't seem threatening. One end puts me at my favorite coffee bar, Village Coffee, where I usually stop for an oat milk latte, iced when it's hot out. The other end is at the local Hannaford (dubbed "ghetto-ford" because of the collection of indigents usually hanging out there waiting for buses and taxis.) The entire linear park can't be much more than a mile total, but it's another mile from the Hannaford end to home near Forsyth Park, or at the other end, a mile plus to the riverport of Rondout (Creek) which flows into the Hudson. Round trip from home to the creek and back via midtown in a good 5.5 miles.

Weight is down from a high of close to 215 for a minute there back in early 2022, to 186 today, so close to 30 pounds lost, which feels like a minor miracle. Started the lifestyle changes a few months before turning 70, for my celebration in Tuscany in May of '22. Eating clean, drinking less, exercising more. I miss the martinis more than bacon, and I still consume both, though I've discovered I can live without bacon more easily than vodka. I tried switching to cannabis but I should have known that would trigger late-night bingeing of anything sweet. I do keep the house relatively free of temptation, no cookies, no chocolate, no ice cream replaced by apples (honey crisp are the best), bananas, red seedless grapes and mandarins. But a bowl of granola with mango cashew yogurt isn't a bad, actually quite satisfying, snack when you've got the munchies. Certainly no more calories than a slice of cold pizza. But I guess the point is that I'd already be at my goal of 170 lbs if I could cut out both the vodka and the gummies/vape/spliff completely.

There's a sign I saw in a bar in Red Hook, Brooklyn years ago, that said something to the effect that, "... my friends are much more interesting after a few beers." So, my rule of thumb is to limit partaking in alcohol and cannabis to when I am out with, or at home with, friends. And that is not that often since COVID, and also because there aren't that many good eateries or bars in a town like Kingston to motivate organizing a night out (or in).

A recent boost to my progress has been my housemate's bout with GERD/acid reflux which limits what he can eat and drink dramatically. So, booze has been out for sure, and off the table are the Tater Tots, the gelato, fried or fatty foods, cheese, pasta, bread and rice. We'd already eliminated beef and pork, so we're down to chicken and turkey white meat, fish, lentil soup, kale, spinach, cabbage, bananas and all the other things we used to refuse to eat for mom as kids. I haven't had a martini since we ran out of Vodka on Monday. I tried to make a gin tonic one night with some probably re-gifted bougie gin with an herbal flavor so gross I threw the second half down the sink. Last night I had a glass of Sancerre with my teriyaki turkey meat balls and boiled carrots and potatoes. I made a salad sans onion and the tomatoes from our garden for him, and the herbed roasted tomatoes for me and CYH (houseguest), injured foot and all.

[slapmeagain-blog]

And then he got himself elected again! Wow. It’s clear that in order to do so, a couple of things have happened in two or more different demographics that on the surface are not connected at all. The first, and probably the one that clinched the election for MAGA was the underclass of Americans who identify with him as an outsider. The ruling class has always treated him with disdain - a low-caste, undereducated, predatory, narcissistic, amoral sociopath who found a way motivate those who had withdrawn from the electorate because they believed the system was rigged against them, to re-engage behind a man whose rhetoric appeals to their justifiable belief that they have been long abandoned by both parties.

The other demographic, which provided the financial and intellectual assets to get him elected, were that segment of the conservative monied class of Americans who feel that both parties have wasted far too much of the taxpayers money on programs that are inefficient, wasteful, misdirected, misconceived, or superfluous to the real needs of the country.

But the first group was far more important and novel to the political scene, those who Hilary dismissed as “deplorables” who were embraced by Donald Trump. They ultimately got him elected the first time, and the democrats never never saw them coming, not in 2016, and, shockingly, not in 2024. This inability to see and correctly interpret the power of this cohort of Trump supporters, combined with Tump’s brutal command of Republican obedience has cast the current administration as a fascist “regime” with many similarities to NAZI Germany - confirmed by survivors and collaborators who are still alive to bear witness.

The threat to our democracy now is probably greater now than it was in the 1930s because someone finally figured out how to politicize the disaffection of the undereducated, apathetic, self-disenfranchised voters who were awakened from a long electoral coma by the antiestablishment, white nationalist, jingoistic rhetoric of a misogynistic, racist, felon who is publicly stealing the country blind and turning the USA into an unreliable, fiscally irresponsible and morally suspect ally globally. Basically, we are fucked as a nation.

[slapmeagain-blog]

Julius T. Bloch - Young American, 1934

[slapmeagain-blog]

Five years ago...

11 November 2021

Trump won. And I posted the following on Facebook. Excuse me, is it Meta, or Facebook now? I see one thing on TV and another online. Does it matter?

Quoting myself, from five years ago, only because now, after having lived through his presidency and looking at what I wrote then, I don't feel the need to change a word of what I said. The words ring true still, and if anything, it's even worse than we had feared then:

"I'm still angry, almost 72 hours after it became apparent Trump would win.  I'm angry at the people who's vision of America is so radically different from mine.  People voted for Trump for many different reasons.  But there was one reason why no one should have voted for him: he finds it too easy to promote hate.  Put aside for the moment the he finds it too easy to disrespect and denigrate people of color, people who may worship differently or not at all, or have a different sexual orientation.  Put aside that with the same seed capital he was given by his family, a mutual fund would now be worth 10 times what he's worth.  Put aside that he was quoted in a national TV interview (I saw it) as saying that if he were to run, he would run as a Republican because .."They're the dumbest group of voters in the country."  That they, "..believe anything on Fox News.  I could lie and they'd eat it up."  (and they did.).

As a New Yorker, I have watched Donald Trump for over 30 years.  To 90% of us, he is as he has always been, 'the local billionaire buffoon,' an attention-starved narcissist, and a tasteless characterization of all that is wrong with American culture; its hedonism, materialism, its excess, just one more deviant from our core values.  I would never have believed in a million years that a nation of people who, as a whole, have more to be thankful for, more freedom, and more economic and social opportunity than any nation on earth or any nation in the history of man, would be completely fooled by a man who appeals to our basest natures, who lives a life in direct opposition to Christian ethics conservatives so passionately claim directs their lives (where were they hiding during this election).

As this juncture, I fear for my freedom, I fear for the freedom of all of us, not just Muslims, gays and lesbians, Latinos, women, for the sick, for the poor, for our immigrant communities, all of whom should be treated with respect and dignity, and shown that we believe they, too, are just as American as anyone of us, and that we are valued for the things we can contribute to our society.  I am afraid for the environment.  I am afraid for the planet as those engaged in 'willful denialism' feel vindicated about global warming because a charlatan is now president of the United States.

I am afraid for my grandchildren, for the message that this election sends to them.  That bullying is ok, that it's ok to hate blacks, that it's ok to treat girls as objects, transgender or gays as if they aren't human.  I fear they will lose respect for the office of the President, and the government he represents, our government, that they will cease to believe that they can make a difference in the lives of their neighbors, family members and their community, that they will become more insular and less community-oriented because what they are trying to achieve is not valued by our leaders or a majority of the members of society.

Many people I know and respect voted for Donald Trump.  I can understand that some people have problems with Hillary Clinton, and with Bill Clinton.  I do too.  I am angry with Hillary as well, for not being as open or as likeable as she needed to be so that people could get past her flaws to see that she was obviously the best qualified person to be our next President, on all counts.  But, to vote for a man who is so clearly unqualified, who has so many personality disorders as to make him dangerous, who lives a life that, if it were a movie, you would walk out of the theater either laughing or sick to your stomach, leaves me thinking that I have been sucked through a vortex into some dystopian alternate reality, and landed in zero-star SciFi film.

Leaving the outright red necks, neo-Nazis, KKK types, and schizophrenics aside, I am trying to figure out what motivated people who, in all other respects seem to me to be rational, well-educated, friendly, kind and well-meaning family types, step into a voting booth and do something so contrary to everything we hold dear as a nation and a people. Ignorance? Greed? Fear of 'the other'?

This is why I don't feel like I want to be in the same room with you.  I'm disappointed in you, and I'm tried of trying to understand why you did what you did, and why you felt it was ok to do it."

[slapmeagain-blog]

I said I was a writer.....

November 8, 2021

Just looked as a post from May 2020 which started with the line, “I can’t believe it’s been 12 days since my last post.” What? I’m delusional.  I never said I would actually write for a living.  And if this blog was any indication of my potential productivity, I’d be living in a trailer.  I suppose I could argue that I’m too busy living to write about it, but that would be hackneyed and simply untrue.  I seldom get up before 8, I take at least a 45 minute nap every afternoon, and I’m in bed every night before midnight.  Sometimes I’m too lazy to take a shower.  Sometimes I just want to stay prone all day long, especially if I’ve been paying too much attention to the news.  I’m such a lazy writer that the Daily News has started quoting my stolen quotes: “Democrats snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.” (Yet again.)

The 2021 local elections and some gubernatorial races were last week.  The Dems did not do well which bodes ill for the 2022 mid-term elections next year.  The Republicans took back the governorship of Virginia, and the Democrat governor or New Jersey, who was expected to win easily, won by a much smaller margin than expected.  Tomorrow I’m seeing my gastroenterologist because of esophageal problems related to politics (I keep wanting to throw up in my mouth).  I have been suffering from problems swallowing food and liquids as well as acid indigestion for a couple of months now.  It seems to be subsiding for the most part, but want to get it checked out anyway.  Marco’s similar issues have improved dramatically from a few months back with meds and a change in eating habits, but overall I think that both of us have conditions triggered by stress.

Stress.  Everybody’s talking about it these days.  COVID stress, the stress of the state of the nation, the economy.  I’m not sure which is my biggest stressor, but I’m betting on a combination of feeling “homeless’ for the past 18 months, and the continuing hangover from the 2020 election, which Trump and the members of his cult still claim he ‘won’.  Even though all of their claims of election fraud have proven false in more that 60 different legal actions brought by various players in more than a dozen states, they just don’t give up.  January 6th to them was still either a “patriots” uprising, or according to some members of congress, paraphrasing, “.... no different than any group of tourists visiting the Capitol...” What?  One of the so-called ‘patriots’ charged with 6 crimes for his involvement was reported this morning by CNN to have fled the country and is applying for asylum in Belarus.  How’s that for ridiculous?  Someone allegedly participating in Capitol police beatings to ‘save’ US democracy from election fraud seeking asylum from one of the former soviet authoritarian regimes!  

Well, I feel my bile rising, so let’s look at my other main source of acid reflux and find out if it goes up or down.  Both Marco and I, since we sold the house in Brooklyn and closed the B&B last May, have been feeling as if we are drifting, both in terms of earning an income, and in terms of having a place to call home.  

And speaking of “senior moments,” oh, we weren’t?  Well, now we are.  When I logged on earlier to write this post I found three posts that were still in the “draft” folder dating back to as far as September 2020.  I proofread and posted those before I started this one.  But it gets better....... 

[slapmeagain-blog]

Christmas trees, failing math, cookies and hot chocolate.....

12 December 2020

Love having my  grandkids around.  Ashe is staying with us here in Kingston, NY for a couple of weeks which end tomorrow.  We’ve been baking, shopping, talking about why they should consider a math tutor’s help to make sure they pass trig this term, and we just made hot chocolate with whipped cream with a cherry on top.  Earlier in the day I trimmed the tree while Ashe sat in the kitchen working on an animation on their new iPad - 3 hours of work for 6 seconds of action.  I wish we could get them to spend 3 hours on their homework. They did take a break to come into the living room to tell me the Christmas tree was “cute”.  (I just realized I’ve been using incorrect pronouns for Ashe and edited them all.  I keep trying. (But even the two seminars I attended at the LGBTQ center haven’t changed my grammar.  Pretty sad for a ‘gay’ grandfather).

I realize again how much I love being a grandparent, mainly because it’s so much easier than being a parent.  Though I did get a flashback of parental suffering worrying about them not passing trig this term and trying to convince them that a tutor for the next few weeks seems like the only viable alternative to having to take the class over again next term.  Their argument, which makes perfect sense to them, is that a tutor would cut even further into their ‘free time,’ reluctantly acknowledging my argument that it would free up even more time next term if they were to have to repeat the course.  (They passed in the end.)

Haven’t been able to spend as much time with Carter.  He’s not as social, and not as apt to accept invitations that take him away from his comfort zone.  I do get to take him out for meals and he will spend the night with us if all the stars are aligned.  When he does, he really seems to enjoy the time.  He’s much more likely to join if Ashe is coming along.  We have fun playing UNO!

[slapmeagain-blog]

Senior moments....

10 December 2020

Day before yesterday, I came home from running errands and parked the ‘train’ car in front of the steps to the Kingston house and got out not realizing I hadn’t put it in park.  Well, it started rolling forward down the driveway straight toward one of the stanchions of the dry-stack stone wall at the foot of the drive.  Two things ran through my head: the fact that getting a dry-stack craftsman to come and repair the wall might take a year or more, and two, the pure humiliation of having to explain the incident to family and friends.  A bruise on my back from jumping into a moving car is a small price to pay.  In my defense, the train car, a 2011 Mitsubishi is not the usual car I drive.  The other car  (Mercedes) automatically goes into park when you turn off the engine.  The Germans leave nothing to chance.

Then yesterday, Ashe, my granddaughter (sorry, grandCHILD), and I went to the supermarket to pick up a few odds and ends to make Impossible burgers, and I asked if they minded if we stopped at the hardware store on the way to buy a dust buster to clean the light fixture in the dining room before the new guests arrive next week.  When I was getting out of the car at the store I realized I didn’t have my mask on and looked everywhere for it.  I keep a ready supply hanging on the steering column of the other car just in case.  Couldn’t find one.  So Ashe lent me hers and waited in the car.  So now I needed to buy a new one for when we got to the supermarket, and a dust buster.  Of course, all the masks were ‘design’ masks ($14), so here’s one more to add to my already grand collection.  When I got back into the car and and took off Ashe’s mask to hand it back to her, my finger got tangled in the mask I was looking for all along, which had been hanging from one of my ears and covering my wattle so I wouldn’t lose it to begin with.  Ashe gave me a polite laugh, under which I could hear a distinct eye-roll.  Sigh. 

[slapmeagain-blog]

An Election?

October 25th 2020

Early voting in NY state started yesterday with enthusiasm in the city, with long lines at polls  from Gravesend to Lincoln Center, with people accepting long lines as a sign that change is afoot.  According to NPR, two-thirds of Americans are stressed out about the election.  I’m definitely in the top fifth of the stressed group.  Everyone is afraid to say that Biden will win, remembering 2016 when Hillary Clinton was supposed to win (and did by more than 3 million votes but lost in the electoral college) and Trump was declared victor.  And to the victor went the spoils.  So much has happened since then.  Millions marching in Washington and across the country against misogyny, 220,000 deaths from COVID, Refugee camps and Mexican babies in cages at the borders, economic disaster, epic wildfires out west, conspiracy theories, a foiled kidnap and murder attempt of the governor of Michigan by right wing militia, nepotism gone wild, Trump ignoring the emoluments clause of the constitution, dismantling of hundreds of Federal programs, myriad investigations into Trump’s lying cronies, 7 convictions, pardons, Russian, Chinese and Iranian hacking into elections, the death of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and the Republicans packing the Supreme Court with right wing crazies months and even days before the election.... it just doesn’t end.  The icing on this cake is that Trump refuses to say if he will concede defeat in the election if he loses.  Which means that once again, the Supreme Court may decide the election, and it may take weeks.  Weeks that could be filled with protests and rioting in both blue and red states.

In the car this morning, returning in the car to my home with my granddaughter for lunch and UNO with me and Marco, Ashe said, as we listened to yet another NPR piece on Trump that, “It feels like he just got elected.”  I responded that to me it feels like he’s been president forever.  

I think almost everyone would agree that this is an unrecognizable America.  Domestically and internationally.  We look more like a Central American banana republic politically, with a president to who strongly admires and identifies with dictators around the world - Russia, Turkey, the Philippines, even North Korea’s ‘rocket man’.  Fake news abounds, COVID’s a ‘hoax’ that will ‘magically disappear’.  Even the President, his wife and son caught it.  If you wrote this script, it would just be too implausible to be taken as anything other than banal parody.  It will get made, though, just like “Vice” was made about the Bush White House and Dick Cheney.  This will be much, much more cringeworthy.  

The silver lining might be that voter turn out is expected to hits all time records, despite Mitch McConnell and other Republicans’ attempts at voter suppression, in particular among likely Biden voters in black and latino communities across the country.  The courts have blocked some tactics but it is so widespread, so pervasive, that it’s hard to keep it all in check.  It’s like playing whack a mole.  Polls do show that Biden is ahead, even in critical swing states like Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Michigan, and even Florida.  The most optimistic believe that even the Republican Senate majority is in play.  To me, the complete repudiation of the Republican party would be the best outcome with McConnell, Graham, Collins and Trump’s other enablers kicked to the curb.  Chances are slim but not impossible.  And then we can get to work to rebuild, maybe even reshape the American social agenda.  And I can’t conceal my desire for retribution against the man who gave us all this, though I do honestly believe that the Democrats are guilty of creating environment in which this could all unfold by abandoning the white American working class 30 years ago, shifting the focus to minorities and immigrants’ marginalization while poor white people were left wondering who cared about them.

[slapmeagain-blog]

Winter is coming...

15 September 2020

So I let the whole summer slip by without a post....  temps dipped to 46 last night.  Marco made a point of noting the temperature in Torrenieri is 84 today. Dig, dig.  Let’s move to Tuscany, at least for six months a year.  I ran into Iris, Chuck’s wife (Schumer) a month or so ago, and told her to tell Chuck that if Trump wins this time, we’re moving to Italy.  Her response: I’m coming with you.  I’ve always liked her sense of humor.

This blog was supposed to be about life with COVID.  Turns out there is so much more going on that COVID is now almost a side show, especially as cases in states like NY continue to drop (though they are still rising in states that re-opened too soon).  Looking at today’s headlines, COVID is definitely taking a backseat to headlines like these:

“Top Trump Health Appointee Warns of Insurrection”

“As West Coast States Burn, Leaders Plead for ‘All the Help We Can Get’“.

“Gulf Coast Prepares for Deluge From Hurricane Sally”

“The GOP Plot to Sabotage 2021″

“Putin and Xi are more Trusted Than Trump for Handling of COVID”

“Trumps Shredding of Civil Liberties Won’t Stop With Antifa”

“Trumps Perverse Campaign Strategy: If the president’s allies are talking about the moment “shooting will begin” and “martial law” it’s not by accident.”

And it goes on with temps hitting records in LA (120 degrees), continuing protests in Rochester, Pelosi vowing to keep congress in session until we have another COVID aid bill, and stories about US government conducting forced sterilizations on detained illegal immigrants.

Well, maybe Marco is right about Italy, and maybe six months a year isn’t enough.  I don’t recognize my country anymore.

[slapmeagain-blog]

15 September 2020

Weening myself off of Advil PM and gummies.  Was laying in bed late last night reprimanding myself for not having kept up with this blog, and the thought entered my head, briefly, that I could get up and walk down the hall to my office and write a post at 1 a.m.  Instead I fell asleep and had a very vivid and detailed dream about an encounter with Harry and Meghan.  I haven’t had any dreams about my relationship to the royal family in months, so it was well overdue.

Although in these dreams, the Queen and I are very chummy, Harry, Meghan and I are barely friendly.  We were having a chance encounter somewhere in NYC and they ended up coming back to my house in Brooklyn for a nightcap which turned into a rather large party.  My mom and dad (both dead for years) were there.  Mom was quite charming, as she could be when she hadn’t taken too many Valium or Vicodin.  Someone was looking through the glass front fridge in the kitchen and saw a white platter with the remains of what had been a very large pile of cocaine, and all became very excited.  I was embarrassed and appalled, and I really don’t do that in real life.  Where’d that come from?  Everyone thought that was very funny.  In any case, Harry and Meghan and I had a very nice private conversation over champagne poured by mom in my best gold-leafed glasses, with me congratulating Harry on supporting opposition politicians in Laos, where he and William (as is well known) spent a couple of happy years as young men and loved the country and the people.  One political opponent had been the victim of several assassination attempts by someone who placed “pine snakes” (quite venomous) in his home and office.  He’d actually survived one bite at the base of his spine.  Harry had come out strongly to protest these abuses of power by the ruling party (actually there is no opposition) and its henchmen.  We were all very happy to have met up and decided that we were meant to be friends. It was like we had known each other for years.  Harry asked for my cell number, gave me his, and said that we’d have to keep in touch and get together again soon.  And he was clearly moved by our encounter.  He gave me a long, warm hug.  Then William showed up and we also got acquainted, though he wasn’t nearly as easy-going as Harry and Meghan and seemed to be in a hurry to get going.  I told them to give my best to their grandmother and off they went.  My mom was very impressed by the company I keep.

Believe it or not, I was sleep aid- and relatively alcohol-free last night.  Maybe that’s the secret to my dreams.

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

18 May 2020

How can it be 12 days since I last posted?  It must be the distraction of improving weather, the amount of time I am spending on the garden, and getting ready to enjoy the outdoor season: bringing all the outdoor furniture up from the basement, cleaning the porch, patio and deck, putting covers back on all the cushions, moving all the plants that have been hibernating in the sun room out of doors; ferns for the urns on the front steps, and hanging from hooks above the balustrades on the porch, potted palms next to the wooden furniture facing Pearl street.  There are the big self-watering planters filled with semi-tropicals on the deck off the sun room and the giant urns on the blue-stone patio.  New plantings in the bare spots in the flowers beds, potting a new lime tree, an on-going losing battle with crabgrass and other unworthy competitors to my lawn.  I could have a booth selling dandelion leaves for salad at the Wall Street farmer’s market on Saturday morning if I had the time.  Re-seeding bare patches under the copper beech tree and the corner near the vegetable patch, seeding herbs and greens in tiny compostable pots that have to be misted twice a day.  Cutting away dead leaves and growth from everything and moving the potted plants from beneath the living room windows to their appointed positions out of doors.  Ahh....

The weather had been so cool, damp and dreary, that I had to take matters into my own hands and say enough is enough, that it was about time we moved from bare hints of spring to full on spring mode on May 14th, mainly to keep Marco from packing his bags and moving back to Tuscany, where temperatures are already well into the high seventies and eighties.  Temperatures here rose as ordered.  We hit 80 a couple of days ago which has delayed Marco’s imminent migration.  I even enjoyed a pitcher of iced tea!

Meanwhile, in the wider world, 90,000 Americans are dead, and there have been 1,400,000 confirmed cases of the virus. 36,000,000 Americans have filed unemployment claims (Marco and I are not eligible) and armed civilian militia have overrun the Michigan state  legislature and shut down Oregon’s demanding that the governments re-open the economies. Who are these people?  They are clearly a small but vocal minority of the disparate groups of supremacists, right wing Christians, and hard line second amendment defenders who are being encouraged by the man in the white house (note to my great-grandchildren: many people in these times refuse to even speak the name of the current resident of the White House.  Something we borrowed as a form of protest from the Harry Potter novel series where people were afraid to even mention the name of the antagonist -- Voldemort.)  We’re not ‘afraid’ to mention his name, we just feel that he shouldn’t be given any form of legitimacy, not as a man, and certainly not at as a president.

Closer to home, here in Kingston, NY, a barber in a hipster-retro shop on John Street, has been cutting hair on the sly, in defiance of the shutdown, and has been diagnosed with the virus.  Officials are searching for anyone who might have had their haircut by him (eye roll). On the brighter side, Liberato (Marco’s niece's fiance was finally able to legally open his brand spanking new barber shop in San Querico (Tuscany) this week and is booked solid for two weeks -- 97 appointments.  It’s curious that the Kingston barber made international headlines.  We heard about it from as far afield as Siena (IT) and Geneva (CH, not NY!)  Most people are taking the shutdown seriously, but many are not, and it’s a very divisive topic.  One security guard was shot, in Michigan, for telling a customer to put on a mask or leave the store.  Another liquor store owner in Flint (Michigan clearly has anger management issues) was shot in the ankle for the same reason.  Many people feel that the lock down is a useless exercise, that we should just open up and get it over with.  It’s not killing as many as we thought it might, and cases have started to fall off in the worst hit places.  But the whole point was to ‘flatten the curve’ to prevent the health care system from getting overwhelmed and to protect the vulnerable.  That part has worked.  So where do you begin, and how much is enough, to get the economy started again without creating new spikes and hot-spots of the disease and risk overwhelming the hospitals?  The scientists argue that it can’t be done safely until we have tested most of the population to get a handle on how many people have already had it.  Supposedly, 60% is a magic number for ‘herd immunity,’ above which the virus will slowly die out because it can’t sustain itself in a smaller pool, but that assumes that once you’ve had it, you are immune.  The jury is still out on that.  So much information, so little reliability.  Example: Marco read in the Italian press today that the US had come up with a vaccine and was testing it.  Here, however, the medical professionals are saying we are at least a year, maybe two, away from a vaccine.  It’s no wonder people are acting crazy.  Anyone can  pretty much find someone out there who is saying exactly the thing that appeals to their fears and some of us act on those fears, with the encouragement of the 12-year old in chief, who says he is now taking hydroychloroquine, the efficacy of which is questionable and is said to have potentially harmful side effects.  A couple of months ago, a couple in Arizona took it after he touted it.  The husband died and the wife was hospitalized in serious condition.  Well, let’s hope he manages to kill or incapacitate himself soon.

That’s plenty on that topic.  I don’t know if it is because we are safely ensconced in Kingston in a big house surrounded by lawns and stone walls and flowers that I don’t feel particularly under threat by the virus.  But at the same time, I don’t feel the loss of human contact (other than with Cole, Ashe and Carter and the hugs). My time is my own, and I’m enjoying finding ways to fill it -- cooking, reading, planning for reopening my hospitality locations, gardening, studying, watching movies....  My biggest fears, really, are economic.  When this is over, what will my investments be worth, what will the townhouse in Brooklyn be worth, how will I support myself, help Marco, and leave something to my son and grand kids when I go?  Up until now those were not serious issues for me. 

 I do miss eating out in places where I know people or places where the food is particularly transcendent, but cooking at home and really investing in keeping food interesting, has been a pleasant challenge.  And as I settle in to lock down -- it’s been two months now -- I find I am seeking less amusement in martinis, mushrooms, and space cookies, and more in reading, writing, studying and cooking and actually having a schedule for those activities.  I also love the efficiency of online visual visits, both personal and for study and business.  I’m staying in closer contact with so many of my friends than I did before lockdown.  We have a call tonight at 7 p.m. with Joe and Vicki in LA which I am looking forward to, and we are doing a weekly family call on Sundays with the kids, Roy and CT in Hawaii, Maud in Brooklyn, Hedy and Firth and M and me here in Kingston.  

Hawaii, by the way, is pretty safe.  And here, in Ulster County, we’ve had fewer than 40 deaths and 1500 cases.  And considering how many people like me have fled from the city to Kingston, I’m surprised it’s not higher.  East Hampton, for example, was a hot spot because of all the rich NYC types that have homes there and left the city.  Sorry, sorry.  I promised to stop.  Times article says that wealthier neighborhoods in NYC have lost 40% of their population!  I’m so glad the kids are at our place to keep an eye on things.  And Marco’s finding a rhythm, too.  Check it out.

I finally plodded though to the end of Thomas Campanella’s book, “Brooklyn: The Once and Future City”.  It was very, very informative, even if many parts of it would be far more interesting to civic planners and architects than to casual readers, but it really did put a lot in perspective on Brooklyn’s economic and social trajectory through nearly 300 years with some interesting segues into geological formations that impact the place still today.  Sadly, as interesting and appealing a place as Brooklyn is, very little scholarly work has been done on it’s history.  Until very recently, the focus has always been on Manhattan.  It did correct a number of my own misconceptions.  Importantly, despite the fact that Robert Moses was not thrilled at the design for the proposed Dodger Stadium at the intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues, it doesn’t appear that he, on his own, could have stopped it.  Research suggests that it was the disappearing fan base (fleeing the crime-ridden city in the 50s and 60s) that made the move to LA more an economic decision than has otherwise been speculated.  And I’m no fan of Robert Moses. The study group, in the end, actually wanted to put the stadium complex in Park Slope, bordered by Sterling, Bergen, Vanderbilt and Boerum Place.  What a disaster that would have been on so many levels!!  Not the least of which would have been the United Jet that crashed in that spot in 1960. And the Weisberg’s wouldn’t have been my neighbors for 34 years because their house would have been razed.

Other non-essential slightly amusing details. Deer ‘resistant’ plants are not deer ‘proof’.  And our herd doesn’t seem to be made up of fussy eaters. So, we are frustrated by the number of our plants that are being ravaged.  Apparently, based on an internet search, Marco has discovered that piss and cayenne pepper are good home garden deer deterrents!  Well...  I am putting it to the test with a mixture of BOTH.  I’ll keep you posted on results.  (I won’t go into detail on how the mixture is obtained/prepared, interesting as it may be.)  Hungry?  Peanut butter, honey and banana -- not since I was 10 years old.  Think I’ll write a kids’ Covid cookbook!

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

Cinco De Mayo!

Just got off the phone with Suzanne and Wayne.  Today is Wayne’s birthday so wanted him to know we were thinking of him.  They are in their car, on their way to University of Pennsylvania Hospital’s Pearlman Center where Suzanne will begin an immunotherapy trial for her cancer (pancreatic).  She got word last week that she had been accepted to the trial and has been on cloud nine ever since.  As she put it, “I got into Harvard, I won the lottery!”.  Actually, I think it’s better than either.  How often to you get a new chance at life?  I’m so happy for her I’ve got wet eyes!  And it’s a beautiful, bright, if chilly, and sunny day as well, a perfect way to make the road trip to Philly. 

Suzanne has been such an inspiration.  She’s made it easier for the rest of us to deal with her illness, which I think is about the highest compliment one can pay someone who is going through what she is going through.  Despite two and a half rounds of chemo, surgeries, and feeling so ill that I’m sure I would have given up many times over, she has maintained her optimism through it all, nearly three years of dealing with one of the deadliest cancers.  When speaking to her I am always sensitive to the cadence and volume of her voice, and listen carefully to what’s on her mind in order to make a call on how she’s feeling.  She always downplayed the severity of her discomfort; the side effects and debilitating effects of the chemo on her body and daily life.  The worst description I think I ever got out of her was, “I feel pretty shitty today.”  That could be me the morning after too many martinis.  Here’s a pic of the three of us at Boitson’s in Kingston just about 2 years ago.

If anyone deserves a break, it’s Suzanne.  Have to love her. 

In ‘local’ news, Mario, Olga and the boys headed back to Brooklyn yesterday, after a five week stay with us in Kingston.  It’s likely that Mario will be working from the office again by the 15th, the scheduled back to work day for construction workers in NYC.  We’re so glad that we could provide them with an escape from their apartment in Brooklyn to a space where the kids could be outside on the grass in the sun when the weather was decent without worrying about masks, hand sanitizer or social distancing.  Carlo was looking forward to getting home to his toys!  I think the biggest issue for Olga, though she was so grateful for the experience, would have been how much harder it is to keep track of the kids in a big house with almost an acre of grounds.  She was always searching for one of them.  

Marco drove them back to Brooklyn yesterday, late morning, and was back in Kingston by 4:30 p.m.  It’s a tiring round-trip and there was a decent amount of traffic.  Marco also said that not enough people were wearing masks. And I think it’ll just get worse as the weather warms up.  Glad we’re out of town.

Laying awake last night, I was modeling how to price stays at the B&B in Brooklyn once it’s safe to re-open, knowing that I’ll have to adjust to having just two parties and a time in the house, one on the third floor and one on the second floor.  I’ll treat each as a suite.  The third floor will be priced as usual, but the second floor will have a sliding price scale depending on how many bedrooms they take.  I think ultimately, it will reduce revenues by about 30% for the time being.  

As of yesterday, May 4th, there have been 320,000 official cases in NYC with nearly 20,000 deaths.  Here in Ulster County, we’ve had 1,400 cases and 28 deaths.  Grateful to have this place as a retreat from New York. 

Not to close with that.......

Enchiladas and tacos tonight?  Definitely margaritas!

#lockdown #covid-19life #drinkingmore #happynews #pancreaticcancer #suzannestaples #kingstonny #Brooklyn #grateful 

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

27 April 2020

Staring at a barbed-wire fence....

You can find a bleak view anywhere if you look hard enough. Normally, I’d never want anyone to see a photo of this corner of the property in the Hudson Valley, but I think it’s a perfect metaphor for all of us who are sheltering at home, in small apartments in the city, or in big houses miles and miles away.  I’m finding that even here, the things we love most, friends, family, culture, a social life, all seem to be just the other side of that fence.  Everything is on hold.  We seek comfort in food, drink, books and music.  But we also have been reaching out to loved ones and friends on FaceTime, Zoom, and What’sApp with an urgency that didn’t exist prior to the pandemic.  We’ve taken to having online cocktail hours during which we complain about the government response, we complain about the people who aren’t respecting the social distancing rules, we complain about the people we miss or we even complain about the people we are sheltering with....  But at the same time, we’ve begun to talk to each other again - stories about our families, our childhood homes, the things we seldom seem to have time or interest in sharing. At the end of some calls, I’ve taken to asking friends to share something the next time we speak.  People have mostly warmed to the idea those there are always those for whom it’s too ‘touchy-feely’.  They may not always share, but they seem to enjoy listening.

But speaking of the other comforts, Marco’s first bread, and my second vegan meatloaf hit our kitchen table last night - both were exceptional! I did light up the meatloaf recipe, substituting Korean BBQ sauce for the regular and chipoltle chili tomato sauce for the usual. And the rosemary roasted potatoes were the best we ever made!    

Also, threw in a pound of Beyond Beef to the mix..  Haven’t been able to find any Impossible Beef for a few weeks.  The bread was made with King Arthur’s special blend whole wheat flour.  

I’m trying really hard not to talk about the weather here.  

We finished Season 1 of Westworld last night.  Not bad.  I wonder if Anthony Hopkins cut a deal to get knocked off in the season finale?  He looked pretty bored and didn’t seem the least bit evil.  Now my new dirty little secret is that I was trolling Tumblr last night in bed around midnight and discovered that they’ve revived “Roswell”!  I watched the original series years ago and never told anyone (mainly because it’s geared to teen girls and gays and I try not to reveal my stunted cultural tastes if I can help it.)  Now they are all 10 years out of high school so I don’t feel like such a pedophile at least.  And you have to admit, there’s something compelling about a beautiful alcoholic curly-haired bi-alien foster child (Clark Kent eat your heart out) falling for a one-legged Iraq War vet who happen’s to be the son of the Air Force’s evil chief alien hunter..  Who thinks this shit up?  It’s like it was made just for me.  Maybe it’s because my mom and dad were posted to the army base in Roswell, NM after the war and she used to tell me alien stories and about the bed bugs they had?  This is what’s keeping me from finishing the last 75 pages of “Brooklyn: The Once and Future City”?  

Well, Zoom school tomorrow, and I still have 20 new characters to learn and practice (Chinese, not theater, unfortunately).

馬德信

(It rained all day but we might hit 70 by the weekend!)

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

The weather seems so important! Fuck oil prices.

21 April 2020

Wow.  A month into spring.  Don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but if we have to sit in our homes trying to stay safe and productive without going nuts, a few more sunny, warmer days would sure help wage the psychological battle.  When I woke up this morning, I felt a bit like I used to when I was living in London --  the sunlight pouring through my east facing wall of windows with the promise of a rare warm, dry and sunny day.  I had the same sensation today as I gazed out at the light through the remaining dead leaves on the top branches of the giant copper beech outside my third floor bedroom.  After my shower, as on so many London mornings, when I emerged from the bathroom, I found the sun gone, blocked, as it warmed the atmosphere, by a fast-moving cloud cover, along with my hopes of a beautiful, sunny spring day.  Those mornings I’d be grateful if it wasn’t raining so I could ride my bike to work.  So, I try to be mindful, and then grateful that I wake up early enough to see the sun, before the clouds claim the space.

Coffee in the sun room while I check the weather on my phone (looking out the window just isn’t that meaningful anymore as we continue to lose whatever tenuous connection we have to nature), do a quick surf through IG, Facebook and Twitter, read the headlines, then make a second cup and head up to my office where I can stare at my computer and simultaneously be aware of the view into the woods outside the window my desk us up against.  

Check email.  Two refunds to send out today.  Another cancelled  wedding (for early-June now), and a second for a guest who has paid me twice for the same room through PayPal.  Every penny we return sends us closer to the edge, but is nothing compared to the loss of income from new bookings which have dried up completely, or the payments from the guests who should be with us.  Federal loan money for small businesses has already dried up from the 2 trillion in aid congress passed, and it was reported yesterday that a lot of that loan money went to companies like “Shake Shack” who have over a 1,000 locations -- money that was ear-marked for ‘small business’.  Nothing works.  

This is becoming more chaotic rather than less despite the nice, newly printed bright red decals the grocery stores are putting on the floors near the cashier stands to show you where to stand to meet social distancing rules, and signs to remind us that if we are wearing gloves, to “follow the guidelines” whatever those might be.  The only nice thing about shopping at the local health food store is the 30-something red head working in the produce department.  I never thought I would need so much help finding things.  He’s handsome even in, or maybe because of, the mask covering his face.

We’re expecting thundershowers starting at 11 a.m. today, continuing till around 5 p.m.  This is where I usually say, “It’ll be great for the garden.” without really meaning it.  I used to mean it, but how much water does my garden need?  England was always so green.  But it was also so gray, so cold and so wet.  I grew up in Southern California, where it only rained in the winter, and even then, not that much, or, on occasion, so much that dozens of homes would end up surfing down hillsides in suburbs where the land was so soaked that landslides were a constant danger and no homes should have been built there to begin with.  It was pretty much beach weather 8 months a year, though we acted like it was too cold to go if it was in the 70s.  Now, in Kingston, I’m out in shirt sleeves if it’s in the 40s as long as the wind isn’t blowing.

Marco made a few more liters of ragu yesterday.  I made falafel and salad for dinner last night (I used $17 worth of avocado oil to fry it in - idiot).  Lunch was tuna sandwiches (I had an alternative which couldn’t have been very interesting since I can’t remember it.)  I am considering adding fish back to my diet, at least once or twice a week, as my LDL cholesterol has been dropping since going plant-based and Dr. N says I need more omega 3s.  From what I’ve read, the supplements aren’t absorbed very well.  So maybe, I’ll start eating sardines again and live to be 100 like all those centenarians in the Mediterranean.    

Stocks are getting hammered again as oil prices drop below zero.  How is that even possible?  Carlo’s digging holes in my lawn.  Sigh.  The ultrasound of my carotid artery shows a partial blockage.  Cardiology appointment in the city Thursday morning.  It’ll be my first visit to NYC in a month, almost to the day.

Chinese class on Zoom tonight.  Have to finish my homework.  Practice writing.

Throwback Tuesday (I can’t wait till “Th”ursday).