notjustaboutsex

CHRONICLES OF COVID, episode 500

Hot time…summer in the city. Those lyrics used to make me think about a different city, at a different time. Today with demonstrations in every major city, many peaceful intentions are being compromised by raging looters, possibly racist troublemakers. Not at Union Square on Saturday afternoon. The crowd was masked and calm, strong and determined. I spoke to a woman who said she reported for WBAI radio complaining that the sound system was much better in Harlem. Of course.  Another journalist from France was confounded by the movement of the movement. She didn’t know where they heading off to. “In Europe, the demonstrations swell in one place, so you can make a statement. All of these smaller groups do not coalesce” she said. She was completely exhausted from chasing the crowd with her heavy gear.  The protest is complicated. Years of racism mixed with economic injustice, and all of it punched up with this pandemic. I wondered if the protesters took the subway from Harlem downtown and felt safe.

Walking down Broadway I couldn’t miss the overwhelming smell of urine overwhelming in front of all the closed businesses doorways. So grim. Two separate angry men, screamed a lifetime of pain into the air, but people were mostly cool, engaged but not enraged.

Neighbors are moving away. There’s lot of great furniture for grabs on the streets. I held a gate for two guys struggling to carry out a Swedish modern bureau. When someone suggested it might be lighter by removing the drawers, they grunted and began again.

One sad looking man was sweeping the floor of one of the historic old bars of Astor Place, now closed for good along with Gem Spa and its infamous egg creams on the other corner.

My mood stayed strong thanks to breath work with Michael Stone and a good report from my vet. I’m working hard to balance the mac and microcosms of daily life.

Life matters…every color, every form. The day was so beautiful… more birds, flowers springing up. Nature there to remind us of the beauty if we can remember to look, though all the injustice. Third degree charges instead of first.

I sat on the roof for a bit listening to the noisy evening sky…helicopters hovering and whirling, almost blocking out the bell ringing for the essential workers   Still the grey clouds were beautiful and the air clear.

Later, I experimented with reality. I needed to be somewhere else completely and Irving Berlin provided it with Roundabout Theatre’s presentation of his musical Holiday Inn. Berlin, a refugee to this country, has been considered American’s greatest composer…he loved this country and you feel his joy in every tune. After all, he wrote “God Bless America”. What would he think now?