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Pandemic Watch: We live in interesting times

At SUNY New Paltz Professor Brownstein opened his international relations class with “We live in interesting times.” I know the origins of the quote have been debated. That’s a debate that will likely go on long after we are gone. Not here to discuss its origins. Don’t care. But before I go further. Let me apologize to Lew. That’s Professor Brownstein. I took several of his courses. Before he offered the quote, he would say, “Good morning, I am Lew and that’s I how to expect to be addressed.”

As for living in interesting times, everyone can say that. We certainly do. I am going to skip discussing some of the things that happened when I was very young or a pre-teen, i.e. Watergate, the Iranian hostage crisis, Son of Sam, the gas lines of the ‘70s, Reggie’s three homers on three pitches (I surely remember that), the NYC blackout, July 13-14, 1977, John Lennon’s murder and Thurman Munson’s plane crash. Certainly, I remember the last two items and still think about them. I remember them all. As a little kid, I made some interesting statements or gestures about a few. Yes, there were more things. Much more. Hopefully, your vaulted aisles of memory have been stirred. These interesting times have changed our society and the way we live. Things changed perhaps for the better. Or, perhaps for the worse.

Let’s jump to the early to mid-80s. That was a great time. We had the best music to name a few — the Cure, Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, the Psychedelic Furs, the Smiths, and U2. We had oversized Benetton and Champion sweatshirts and OP (Ocean Pacific) clothes. And we had AIDS.

I remember the last year of I.S. 34, Totten Intermediate School, Tottenville, Staten Island, and freshman year of Tottenville High School, Huguenot, Staten Island during this time. People were scared. People talked. Thank G-d there was no social media then. We see how good and damaging it can be. I remember students, teachers, and other school personnel gossiping about which teacher or pupil contracted AIDS.

There were letters sent home to our parents saying the school was safe. Similar announcements were made over the public address system. School walkouts were planned. Some occurred. I stayed in school. The only way I was ever allowed to stay home was when the school was closed by the city.

In the aftermath, we saw increased marketing for condom use. Of course, this was a dilemma. Religious reasons and the topic of safe sex education caused the predicament of what we could and couldn’t say. We saw be faithful and abstinence campaigns. There were underground support groups. People whispered when talking about this disease. Unfortunately, AIDS still exists and is still killing too many people. Thankfully there is far greater awareness and better treatment.

And although not enough, more people are being safer.

Then came 9/11. Yes, I am aware of many things that happened in between, i.e. the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests, an assassination attempt on President Reagan, Chernobyl, the Challenger Explosion, Exxon Valdez Oil Spill, the First Intifada, glasnost and perestroika, the Iran-Contra Affair, Just Say No and Operation Desert Storm. The list goes on and on.

Most of us remember the devastating 9/11 attack. I remember the changes it brought — Enhanced airport security. Same for doing something as simple as entering a Broadway theater, the Guggenheim, Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium and many other venues. We adopted many protocols the Israelis have nearly always had in place.

I was at my dad’s house in Plant City, Fl when it happened. My return flight was delayed for a few days. I remember coming back to Staten Island, NY. The island lost so many people. My mom picked me up at the former Newark Airport. We went to my favorite pizza place. The place was usually lively. It was empty. The few customers and employees had drawn faces. This was everywhere. People were being friendlier to each other than usual.

Let’s jump to Covid-19. We are living through it. I hope we all live. I have had one or two social distance friend hangouts. Our buildings are next to each other. We stood outside on opposite sides of the street, he and his kids on top of the block and me on the bottom. For five minutes we screamed at each other and went back to our residences.

What changes will it bring? Will my 10-year-old nephew never know what’s it like to jump on the train and go to the city? Will he and all of us have to wear masks? How will we go to movies, etc.?

BTW, I know many great things happened during the decades I discussed. Many have changed the way we live and helped save lives. So not to be a total downer, here I go, the artificial heart, barcodes, MRIs, fiber optics, the personal computer, the original Star Wars and several Yankee World Championships (we need many more) and lots more.

What will the next decades bring? Likely they will bring more of the same — disasters and great inventions. Togetherness and fights. In many ways, all will become commercial successes.

We’ve seen great music and theater, as well as new medical treatments coming out of many of the listed and other events. We’ve donated to the “One Campaign,” watched “Rent,” heard “Biko,” “Red Rain, ” “Russians” and “Sunday Bloody Sunday.”

No questions these are great works. But let’s see us be more proactive to stop the next virus from taking hold and eradicating the current ones. Or to quote U2, we will be running to stand still. We probably always have.

Pandemic Watch: Dressing during the Covid-19 pandemic

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Yes, I know we need our masks and gloves. Got those. My Lacoste mask arrived a few days ago. And I have surgical ones. I bought a box several years before the virus took hold. Finally started using them regularly. The Dystonia Medical Research Foundation mask is in transit. It’d be great when we no longer need that one. I am hopeful one day we won’t need any.

What about our regular mode of dress? Yes, we’ve heard all about how cool it is to work in your pajamas. Or gym shorts and your favorite Yankee t-shirt. I went to work for years in my Lacoste or other dress shirts. Thanks to mom, I grew up in those. I remember going to the now-closed Lester’s on Coney Island Avenue and Avenue U. My mom always dressed me nattily.

These days, I’ve done business calls and job interviews via the phone wearing my gym clothes. I’ve done plenty of Zoom interviews. I still put on a dress shirt and wear dress pants. Sure I could wear my gym shorts with a dress shirt, jacket and even a tie. Zoom only shows a head and shoulders shot. Sometimes I even dress up for phone calls. But I still feel the need to dress business-like and show respect for the people on the other end of the screen. Some have. Many have not. I did a job interview where the interviewer spent more time playing with her cat than paying attention to me. Didn’t get the job. I am allergic to cats. My eyes must have been tearing. LOL

Thanks to good friends in Rockville, Md. I get to do lots of great social and other events via Zoom. They are beautiful people in a beautiful place. Just never go there on a bus. Ask Mike Mills about how that became the second and final single on R.E.M’s “Reckoning” album. Out of respect during some of the events, we are dressed up. In some cases, we are in our “pandemic attire”.

I guess I am thinking of the respect we had in scout summer camp. Dinner was always in a Class A summer uniform, short or long-sleeved shirt, shorts or pants, bolo, scout belt and the goofiest looking socks. It was summer so we usually wore the short sleeves and shorts version. Class B official shorts and camp related t-shirt was acceptable for some programming. At a young age, I was taught to dress respectfully. Same with giving a proper handshake, stand up, remove your gloves, and shake hands.

I don’t mind the new dress code. However, I open my closets and stare at the clothes I’ve purchased over the years. I bought way too much. I thought about all the money I’ve spent and how hard it is for me to find the right sizes. I close the doors and get sad. All I want it to put on my business attire and travel to and from the city for work, performances at Lincoln Center, and other events.

Yes, I will wear my favorite Yankee shirt and jean shorts at Yankee Stadium and on weekends. But I feel so much better knowing I can wear either set of apparel. And look forward to the time when we have to make the choice.

Pandemic Watch: Laundry

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Time to do the laundry. Normally I would drop off my clothes for dry cleaning and regular laundry at the store near the subway. That store’s been closed for a while. I think Laundromats should be essential.

I don’t mind doing it. My building has a decent laundry room. I was VP of its board when it was renovated. But never walked into it. People used to tease me when they saw me walking with my laundry bag and shirts. I heard, “You’re going to another laundry room.”

I decided to do laundry on Mother’s Day. After all, my mom is an expert on laundry. I remember when I would come home from school or camp and bring several weeks worth of laundry for her to wash. She did it. I got yelled at.

The laundry room was empty when I loaded my clothes for the wash cycle. Thirty minutes later, I went down to move my clothes to the dryer. The laundry room was quite busy. A couple was in there moving there placing their clothes in the washer. Similar to food shopping, I do not feel two people must do the job. Certainly one person can load the machine, pour in the Tide, Downy, and swipe the payment card. It should be easy enough for one person to move the wet clothes to the dryer.

One guy was there on the phone. I watched this from outside. He was holding court when people came in and out. Sort of like his social center. In camp, there was a camper who held court on his seat in the latrine. Laundry guy came in and out and said it would take him about 20 minutes to fold his clothes. Again, why do you have to fold them in the laundry room? Throw the clothes in your laundry bag and go upstairs and fold in your residence. He placed his clean clothes on the folding table. He did not place anything between the table and his clothing. Another woman did come in for about two minutes to take care of her laundry. They chatted.

Thirty-plus minutes later he finally finished. He seemed very proud of himself. I raced in and moved my clothes from the washer to the dryer. The couple from before came back in to do the same. But kept their distance. They did say hi and seemed very friendly. I realize couples like to do stuff together go to eat, the theaters, sporting events, see Depeche Mode at the Garden. For the record, doing that alone is great. The music talks more to you.

Forty minutes later, I went down to grab my clothes from the dryer. One of the women who were in earlier came in. She seemed friendly. As I was pulling out my last towel and sock, her dry cycle ended. Naturally, the dryer was close to mine. Did she wait for me to finish? It was pretty clear I’d be out in less than a minute. Of course, not she had to race right over to her dryer. What would have the extra minute cost?

For the record, when I lived in an apartment complex in Bay Terrace, Staten Island, I was laundry boy. I did it on my own in a small laundry room. One day they closed it for renovations. What did I do? I brought it to mom. The renovations went on a little longer than expected. When do renovations ever start and finish onetime? Never. Mom did the laundry. When it went on a little longer she said, try dropping it off. I did. When the building’s laundry room was ready they put balloons and signs all over it saying “Welcome back, Mitchell, laundry boy. Please give us a full report.” Everything came out clean.

Pandemic Watch: Yes, it is Monday

We’ve all seen the countless social media “Is it Monday?” Or, “Today is this day, that day, someday. ”They are all the same” memes on social media. Well, folks, today is, Monday.

A few short months ago, today we’d wake up and hum the Boomtown Rats, “I don’t like Mondays.” Likely we had different reasons than Bob Geldof and his band to think that. These days we can wake up and say, “I don’t like Tuesdays, Thursdays, every day.” We can like them. We tolerate them.

Most people I know are not maintaining a semblance of order. Today or any other day is another wear my pajamas, text my friends or watch performing artists stream on Zoom. That’s understood. We are not sure what to do.

But one day and none of know when this pandemic will end. Then what?

For me, I am just as bored as everyone else. And yes, I am texting friends and family. I am doing far too many Zooms events. I read a lot. But as a maniacal planner, I have decided to still be orderly. Most of my friends and family are bragging about not showering, shaving, letting laundry pile up and cleaning.

I will not fall into that. Each day, I still have a schedule. Something like, wake up still very early, breakfast, get dressed. Sometimes in sweats, sometimes better.

The gyms are closed. I can’t wait to get back. But nowadays, right after breakfast, I train with my newly purchased barbell set from Amazon. I use the kettlebell and resistance band set I’ve had for years. You can even workout with a broomstick. After the workout, I have some protein. Then I check email and respond to email.

Mondays, I wait for Fresh Direct to deliver my groceries. On Thursday, I go to the supermarket and pick up anything I ran out of or might need for the “exciting weekend”. Friday I clean. I used to do that on Monday. But switched it up. It is nice to have variety. Each day, I read. Right now, I’m reading “Warhol” by Blake Gopnik. I spend some time each morning handling the social media for the volunteer groups I am in. I block out time to edit my photos. I can’t wait to shoot more. I do laundry usually Thursday or Friday. I try to go as early as possible. I used to send it out.

I fill the days out with lots of other activities. Outside of baseball, I never watched TV. Recently I found a few shows to watch and view reruns of the greats like the “Honeymooners,” “The Flintstones” and other shows before my time. But watched occasionally when I was around six — “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Gomer Pyle” and some others. I plug in lots of time for learning. I am brushing up on MS-Office skills, watch great DSLR photography instructional videos and study other topics. I am involved with many volunteer groups. I call people to see how they are doing. I have a list of the seniors in these groups and like to check in on them.

I figure one day this will end. I don’t want to be caught forgetting how to live in the real world. I’d rather live as best as possible under the QT conditions. And I am very excited to be able to go back to a real schedule of getting up, running out to the subway and going to the city for work. And seeing performances at Lincoln Center, other theaters, the Garden and of course, watching the Yankees beat the Red Sox in ‘Da’ Bronx. See ‘ya when we get discharged.

Anat is threatened

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Alana went back to the upper east side to check on her aunt. She wondered if her “favorite” grocery delivery person, Anat would be dropping off dried fruit and the rest of her aunt’s stuff.

Alana arrived just as Anat was departing. Again they looked at each other. But didn’t utter one word. Alana went upstairs. While riding the elevator she wondered if she should have said hello and had an informational conversation. She and Marc were dying to know why she changed and if their fight did it.

Anat walked over to where Jerry’s parents lived.

She walked through a terrifying neighborhood. People were social distancing. But more seemed inebriated. There was garbage all over. She saw the building his mom and dad dwell in. It looked like a roach motel. She heard screams and fights threw the windows of several buildings.

She was nauseous.

She wondered what she was doing with herself. She never had a friend. In school, while students broke away from their studies and partied, she sat in the library.

She sat in a silent study room. She knew nothing about raising a kid. But knew she’d do a better job than her parents. Was that it? Was she doing this to get revenge and prove she could do it? She didn’t know. But she knew that poor kid wouldn’t stand a chance if he went back to those losers. Maybe she shouldn’t get him. Perhaps he’d be better with a loving mom and dad. Maybe a sister. Sisters can be strange. But good for you. But she knew she had to make sure he was safe.

She kept walking.

A few very high druggies passed her. She ignored them.

The three of them surrounded her.

One pulled a knife and started screaming at her. The other had a needle hanging out of her arm. Anat knew she had to get out of there quickly. She probably should have called the NYPD.

But they have more important things to worry about with Covid-19 taking hold of the city. She didn’t want to waste their time.

The knife-wielder plunged at her. All of sudden out of Anat’s hands, raisins the size of small missiles flew. They knocked the knife right out of the guy’s hand. He went delirious. The lady yanked the needle out of her arm and try to inject Anat. She jumped back. Prunes and apricots were airborne. They nailed the needle lady in the eyes and nose. She fell back and landed on her butt. The other druggie sensibly ran. Anat let him go. She continued to launch dried fruit at the other two. When she felt she was secure she walked away.

She smiled. She was happy she still had her powers and could fight. She was gearing up for the next fight.

Who will parent Jerry

Marc and Alana picnicked in Flushing Meadow Park. They were socially distant. In fact, in the alcove, they set up their picnic basket no one was within 100 feet of them. They had not been to the park since their battle with Anat. The one that changed her life. Everything was quiet. They like everyone was waiting for this Covid-19 mess to end.

Anat did some work and went to the child protective services center to visit Jerry. She had some candy and toys. Not a lot. She didn’t want to spoil him. But she knew he’d been through a lot and needed to build trust and feel safe with adults.

As she walked in she noticed two dirtbags exiting. Funny for her to call someone a dirtbag. But she had been a different dirtbag. She could tell these people were druggies. She was just a mess. She spoke to Ann, the social worker, who informed her that the two people she saw walking out are Jerry’s parents. Yes, they are druggies. They are married and Jerry was not born out of wedlock.

Both of his parents have multiple arrests for drug use, domestic violence, petty theft, and assault.

Anat was pissed.

She knew they would try to take Jerry. Ann walked her into the rec room. Jerry was sitting there. His face looked gloomy, his eyes red from tears and he was shaking. Anat asked Ann what was up. She said seeing his parents caused him to get scared. He wouldn’t say a word to them. Not even hello. When they left he cried out, “don’t hurt me”.

Anat hustled over to him. He smiled. He grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. Anat cried. She spent her allotted time with Jerry. Ann was observing. She went back to Ann’s office. Ann let her know that Jerry’s parents would try to take him. There are legal proceedings. Their visit with Jerry was on camera. So were all of Anat’s. But Ann knew that they are his parents and would likely get people to recommend they get their son back.

Anat would probably be interviewed how she first met him. And of course, the police and medical records from the date his parents dumped in the park would come into play. Anat asked what she could do to get him? Or at the least, stop his parents from taking him. Ann gave her a link to fill out.

Anat went home filled it out and did her research on Jerry’s family. Nothing was good. Much worse than Ann laid out. Anat was ready.

How skills I learned as a teen in the scouts help during the Covid-19 pandemic

Let me start by acknowledging I know the BSA has its problems. It made mistakes. Every organization has. Let’s focus on the good.

Right now our lives have been turned upside down. We are confronted with social distancing, isolation, going out wearing a mask and gloves. The closures of offices, restaurants, sports venues and theaters. And more. Much more.

Growing up a scout the skills I learned are invaluable for today’s world or any other. I spent many years in summer camp where I learned to confront change and adapt to the circumstances. Let me cite a few examples from camp and other program areas and how its teachings have taught me to be prepared.

During Wilderness Survival merit badge we were left in the middle of the woods with our canteen, pocketknife, a camp saw, matches, mess kit and sleeping bag. Each of us was given about a pound of chop meat, a tomato, green pepper and onion. We were expected to make camp, cook and well survive. We did not have the usual equipment we would normally have on a camping trip. I loved this training and did it many times as a camper and staff member. Every time I did the skies opened up from the time we set out to the time we packed camp and went back to our site. Did that stop us? No. We made shelter by building it with waterproof plant life. We stayed dry. We knew which plants we could eat and which would poison us. We built a small fire. Not a blazing one. But it kept us warm and allowed us to cook

We would often go boating in the lake. Our canoes would swamp sometimes naturally or our fellow scouts would swamp us. We had fun. Did we panic? No. We knew how to drain our canoe, flip it over and paddle
We camped in areas without traditional showers. We were able to wash up by boiling water and cleaning ourselves
I once had a leader, my mentor who took us hikes deep into the camp. There was not always a camp latrine along the trail. If you have to go you have to go. He always carried toilet paper. We learned to do so. I’ve seen panicked people on hikes I took later in life. I was able to help
On the trail to Eagle, we had to learn personal finance management it helped us budget our trips and other events. We learned how to shop for our meals and stay within the troops’ budget
We learned how to pack before we go on a backpacking trip and what’s needed and what we can leave behind
We learned to police our areas and keep everything as clean as we could. Hygiene was always paramount. Check out “Trashy Parks,” mitchellthoughtsblog.wordpress.com/2020/01/07/trashy-parks/.

Photos were taken at Ten Mile River Scout Camps, Narrowsburg, NY

So how does this help us during the Corona Virus?

Simple.

Our motto is, “Be Prepared.”

When business associates, family, friends, etc. were perplexed. The skills learned in scouting made it easy to adapt and be prepared to take on the changes we are beset with. Can’t do in-person meetings? Go to Zoom or Skype. I worked with the older scouts to teach our elders how to zoom. It was entertaining. But we did it. We were able to continue our business and scout meetings, religious services and keep our community centers going.

We used to have to remember to be properly dressed for our camping trips. We’d put on our boots, camp pants, shirts and make sure we had a raincoat in our pack. Now we need to go out with our mask and gloves. Simple keep your box right at your door. Keep the trashcan nearby so you can toss them right in when you return. Remember to stuff and extra pair in your coat or pockets if you plan to be out longer than expected and/or your existing PPE tears.

Do you have to stay away from certain areas or go a different way to get somewhere because your normal route is closed off? Think of Orienteering merit badge. Remember when we had to get to a destination by taking a different path than usual along the trail. Can’t take public transportation? Again, remember Orienteering merit badge and toss in Hiking merit badge. Map out a trail and walk. The gyms are closed. So we need to exercise.

Is your favorite pizza place or other restaurant closed or too far to get to? Remember Cooking merit badge and your survival training. Cook.

The list goes and on. But the scouting program gives us skills that will last us our whole lives. I am glad I “leaaaaarrnned” so much and am ready. Be Prepared.

Parenting?

Alana made Marc mop. He always hated mopping. But he did it. Alana was doing her nails. Black polish. She was making plans to go out. Not. She just had to look good.

Anat got all of the packages of clothes and toys for the kid she found a few days ago. She put on her black mask and gloves and went to the child center. She signed in. The boy, whose name they found out is Jerry ran right up to her and jumped. He smiled. She cried. She wasn’t sure what this was supposed to feel like. Other than her grandma no one ever was happy to see her.

She held Jerry for a few minutes. Then she gave the social worker the clothing and toys. He was probably going to be the only kid in protective services in genuine Lacoste, Fendi and Ralph Lauren clothing. Nothing for the best for a three-year-old kid she’s known for about a week. The toys were great, too. She wasn’t sure if he was too young for an iPad? So she got him Tonka trucks, coloring books, a classic Etch A Sketch and a baseball glove. Oh, she did get him a Red Sox hat.

She hung with him under the social worker’s watchful eye for about 30 minutes. She walked out of the rec room. The social worker said he was doing better and talking a little. He mentioned the lady with black boots that helped him. Her eyes teared again. They are trying to locate his parents. The social worker told a little more than she should have. It seems the kid was abused. He kept saying people hit me. They drop me.

Anat asked what the rules were for adoption or foster care. What was she thinking? Here she was a single woman who fights with dried fruit and never a relationship with anyone other than her grandma and grandfather. Sadly he died when she was quite young. She has faded memories of him.

She walked out of the center and started Googling info about raising a child. But then thoughts went through her mind. What if Jerry’s parents try to come and get him? Would the city let them?

How the Covid-19 pandemic causes us to rethink old habits

We all have habits. Some we grew up with. Some we developed as life moved on. I grew up with a love of taking out the garbage. Is it moving the trashcans to the foot of the driveway, tossing the trash bag down the chute of the incinerator? All. But these days you need a mask and gloves to do all this. So is it worth it to take it out instantly? Or can we let recyclables sit in a bag for a day or two and load up? Maybe go out once or twice a week to the incinerator, which is less than 7 feet from my door. I just don’t know. But let’s discuss it.

Of course, garbage has not been incinerated in NYC since 1993. In ’89, Mayor Koch, one of the last real New Yorkers — “How am my doin’” pushed a bill through to stop it. The last building incinerators were torn down in 1993. Today’s recycling laws make garbage disposal for someone like me more fun. We get to separate aluminum, plastics and paper. We use different trash disposal containers in our buildings.

Let me do the origin story. It starts with my maternal grandparents. My grandmother would make my grandfather go to the incinerator all day. Amazing to believe that two people produced enough trash for him to spend so much time taking it out.

A typical visit would be to eat a meal she cooked. We would eat quickly. If we started eating at 2:45, we’d be done by 3:00 p.m. and the Brooklyn apartment would be cleaned by 3:05. The vacuum would come out and grandpa would go to the incinerator.

At least 20 years ago, we were at my mom’s for a Sunday barbecue. My mom has a typical kitchen garbage can containing a “tall kitchen garbage bag”. My grandmother was looking at grandpa. He knew the “take out the garbage look.” She said the bag was getting full. Keep in mind he was an officer in the US Army and defended us during WW II. He jumped right up and headed to the trashcan. My mother yelled, “Unlike you, we do not worship garbage.” He sat down. Mom loaded more garbage into the can. She made it overflow. Later on, I got the joy of emptying it and bringing it to the outdoor can.

I got my first Rego Park, N.Y. apartment and took my grandparents’ garbage take out to the extreme. Then I moved to a Bay Terrace, Staten Island, N.Y. place. It had Dumpsters. I used to love to go to the Dumpsters. Eventually, I moved back to Queens. But when I travel to the Island on the Staten Island Railway, I pass the apartment complex and can see the Dumpsters. I salute them.

I’ve been at the new place since 2007. From day one I went to the incinerator like grandpa. Sadly, in 2011 he passed away. So I go in his memory. Thankfully, the incinerator door on the floor at grandma’s still has the note he left — “LAZY people PUSH GARBAGE DOWN CHUTE YOU BRING ROACHES.” She still goes to it all the time.

But over the last few weeks, I’ve let the recyclable trash sit in a bag and bring it out all at once. Instead of a cereal box at 6:00 a.m., a Tropicana container at 6:20 a.m., a can a few minutes later. You get the point.

What will I do after the virus ends and we go back to life? I don’t know. But it has made me rethink are my old habits worthwhile?

Traveling on public transit and being outside during the Covid-19 pandemic

To my “worried old Jewish grandma” commenter, I have not traveled via public transit since March 15. Love ‘ya and appreciate your concern. It means a lot. That day, I took the “R” subway line from 71st and Continental to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal St. George stop. I boarded the ferry and then took the Staten Island Railway to Annandale.

Later that day, I went home via the same transit that got me to Staten Island. It was a great day with mom and my nephew. He did not want the pizza we got him. So he beat up the slice like a prizefighter. I thought that was sacrilegious.

The trains and ferry were empty. I was wearing gloves. No mask. They weren’t required at that time. Everyone on the train was socially distant. One neat looking man stood near my seat by the door. I got up and moved. What was bothering me was, while he appeared clean he reeked of cologne.

No one should wear it. I remember my sister and I pushing our dad not to wear cologne. My mom made my grandmother stop using perfume.

I sat on the public transit with my Kindle and read. On the ferry, I shot great shots of other ferries and marine traffic. My DSLR photos got great visibility on social media and were shared by Staten Island’s Boro Hall.

While traveling I did not notice anyone sneeze, cough, scratch their eyes, ears, or pick their nose. Trust me, I notice everything on the train and when I’m outside.

But lately all the “infectious disease” experts on Facebook, Twitter, etc. have posted pictures of people doing this and/or commented.

How many of us have recently read a post saying something like this, “I was on the train and this person (picture included) scratched her eye” or “this person coughed or sneezed.” Then they’d go onto tell how they are so sure these people are carrying Covid-19. I guess it is good we have so many medical professionals on our trains and walking our streets. People are posting the same diatribe when they see people doing this on Lexington or Madison Avenues.

Yes, everyone is on heightened alert for his or her safety. That’s understandable. Trust me, I am. I probably was since birth. My mom and sister can attest to that. But people do sneeze, cough, or have to scratch their eyes. It doesn’t mean they are ill with Covid-19. My eyes often itch. newhouseDSC_0100 copy

Are you so high and mighty that you’ve never sneezed, coughed or had to scratch your eyes or forehead while on public transit or walking down the street? I doubt there is anyone that can attest to that. Let’s wear our PPE, stay clean and help each other out. It is the only way we will get through this and get back to the places we want to be like Yankee Stadium or watching a great performance at Lincoln Center. Or whatever it is that you fancy.

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