Notes on Reopening (It's Not All or Nothing!)

It's been a little over a month since I last posted in here, but of course I have thoughts churning in my head that I need to get out, so here I am once again.

So we are on day 50-something of staying at home to prevent the spread of the coronavirus, as Trevor Noah likes to remind everyone at the beginning of "The Daily Social Distancing Show." However, the governor of my state, Larry Hogan, recently announced that as of today Maryland can transition from a "Stay Home Order" to a "Safer At Home Order" as of today. Yeah, a lot of government jargon for transitioning to phase one of reopening.

But. The way the news presented it was as if it was a state-wide reopening, when it's really just that individual counties have permission to begin that process. I don't know why we don't just go county/region-by-region as New York has. Because I currently live in Prince George's County, which has been the hot zone in MD for this infection, and we are definitely not ready to reopen yet. Unfortunately.

And guess what? I think this lockdown sucks, and I want it to end sooner rather than later. And/but/and I ALSO want to be safe when doing so, and to minimize necessary deaths and save lives wherever possible.

I've just been so frustrated at the discourse around reopening. First off, everyone seems to think the economy is either "open" or "closed," when truly we've been something in the middle this whole time, because of course essential businesses are essential.

And then it has taken on a hyper-partisan tone, where conservative = prioritizing the economy over lives and liberal = comfortable with a strict lockdown no matter how long that goes on. It may be a reaction to the Trump administration's egregious mishandling of this pandemic from the beginning, but in actuality "reopening" is far more complex than that.

A friend on Facebook suggested that Governor Hogan was pressured by the lockdown protesters into reopening prematurely. Her husband questioned this, and I have to say I agree with him. From what I had been reading, Hogan had always been about making sure certain measures were in place before beginning reopening. And yeah, they aren't for much of the Baltimore-Washington region, so I am wondering why this "reopening" was announced as if it is a state-wide thing. And I'm wondering even more why more of those 500,000 covid-19 tests Hogan got from South Korea haven't made there way to PG County.

But overall I still like and respect Larry Hogan. He's the rare Republican who hasn't sold his soul to the Trumpsters, so I don't know why he would now. And he seems to have always had a plan for combating this virus beyond just sitting on his ass like the guy in the White House.

Because the truth is that we need to be taking measures to gradually, safely reopen at some point. Saving lives matters, but so do people's livelihoods, and their mental health/quality-of-life, etc. etc. I accept that Prince George's County isn't there yet, and perhaps won't be for awhile. But I wish there was more nuanced discourse about the how and when, and yes, why, of reopening.

Notes From the Coronavirus Apocolypse (And Other Notes) Part II

I last posted in here three weeks ago, and things on the coronavirus front are even more dire. Maryland has a "stay at home order," which basically means Larry Hogan is taking this shit seriously and legally enforcing social distancing.

And just like 3 weeks ago, I've still been experiencing a roller coaster of emotions. On Twitter, Shannon Dingle, who lost her husband in a freak accident last year, named the emotion all of us have been going through as grief, and I was like, ya know what, I think she is on to something.

Of course she is. Our culture isn't great with grief, and even worse when the grief isn't over an actual death. But grappling with our sense of "normal" changing overnight is grief too. And it explains the emotional roller coaster: I keep cycling back and forth through the "stages," because grief isn't linear. I've arrived at acceptance a few times since three weeks ago, only to go back to denial or anger or sadness.

The anger has been interesting. There has been the (perhaps petty?) anger over the overall crumbliness of life with necessitated social distancing, over the lack of choice and the frustration of canceled plans, but then there is also anger over the incompetence of our administration and over how unprepared America was to deal with a pandemic even before Trump got into office. And the anger at the partiers flaunting social distance, although if I am going to be honest, and I am because this is my blog, I'm also angry at those who in THEIR anger become smug and self-righteous about staying home.  And the people who spread misinformation online. Yeah. Lots of anger for lots of reasons.

But I do arrive at moments of acceptance. And I've also been heartened by human resilience and the way people find joy and beauty even in the midst of panic, uncertainty, illness, and, well, crap. On Monday, a former high school classmate of mine live-streamed an impromptu "socially distanced" wedding (she had to cancel her plans for an April wedding but wanted to seal the deal anyway.) It was her and her new husband, a few family members (fewer than 8), and the priest in a church parking lot, and it was somehow more beautiful than a run-of-the-mill wedding with a hundred guests.

And then there was the video of the woman singing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" from a balcony in Italy. Such a beautiful song to begin with, and even more poignant in these tumultuous times.

And now some entertainment notes that DON'T have directly to do with the coronavirus, because my mind needs a respite once in a while.

1) I finished reading "The Woman At the Window." And while I said this wasn't about coronavirus, I do have to note that reading a novel about an agoraphobic felt weirdly timely during the coronavirus stay-at-home order. But anyway...while this novel was extremely similar to another thriller about a woman with mental health and drinking issues who witnesses a crime, "The Girl on the Train" (even the titles are similar), I felt this one was better written and more compelling than "The Girl on the Train." A film adaptation of "The Woman at the Window" was supposed to be released in May, but at this point, who knows?

2) I've also been getting in to the miniseries adaptation of "Little Fires Everywhere" lately. I think I may even like it more than the book. But among other things, the 90s-era soundtrack is awesome. Especially the Alanis Morrisete additions. "Uninvited" fit the scene perfectly, but Izzy playing a violin rendition of "You Oughta Know" was even more perfect.

Notes from the Coronavirus Apocalypse - Part I

I thought now would be a perfect time to go back to this blog that I never write in, because I sense I am living in historical times right now that demand a record. But not happy historic times.

No, it's now been a few days (not sure exactly how many) since the World Health Organization declared the new coronavirus, also known as COVID-19, a global pandemic. During that time, as the virus spread from China across the globe including into nearly every state in the US, people stockpiled hand sanitizer (ok, I get it) and toilet paper (why??), governments everywhere encouraged hand washing and "social distancing," and sports leagues, restaurants, schools, and more shut down.

It's been an emotional roller coaster of a few weeks for me. Oh, and I started a new job on March 2 as well.

So I feel like I need somewhere I can express my honest emotions, not the emotions I feel I'm "supposed to" have at this time. This blog feels like a safe place to do that, since it doesn't get much readership.

So back to that emotional roller coaster...I've felt pretty much every emotion one can feel over the past couple of weeks: anxiety, fear, frustration, disappointment, "selfish anger" as John Oliver put it...and maybe some anger that is less selfish as well. I dunno. Oh, right, there's the guilt. That's been a dominant emotion for me behind all the other emotions.

It's caused me to realize how much a sense of guilt is wrapped up in my normal, garden-variety generalized anxiety. Guilt that my feelings are "bad" and "wrong," that I'm selfish or childish or petty. And then now there's also the guilt that I may harm people without even realizing it.

This for me has been compounded by the news media's coverage of the coronavirus as much as the anxiety/fear/panic. That's what's unique about this damn virus, that a sizable number of people get it and spread it while having symptoms no more severe that those of a cold. And yeah, though I've told few people, I haven't been feeling altogether well for this past week and a half. Thankfully no one in my household or at work (seems to be) sick. But who knew what anxiety having a cold in the time of coronavirus could cause?

And then the other emotion I forgot to mention, which is also wrapped up with all the others, is confusion. I understand a lot from reading probably too much news on this virus. I understand that social distancing is needed to "flatten the curve" and not overwhelm our healthcare system. But what exactly does social distancing entail? It changes every day. First it was no large group gatherings, which went from like 500 people to 250 to 50 to like 10! I'll do what the CDC and local governments recommend to keep this damn virus from spreading out of control. But then there are times when I wonder if we are going too far, and then I feel guilty about THAT. Like...why are the libraries closed to patrons who want to check out books/DVDs/whatever chosen materials? Are self-checkouts and extra hand sanitizer not enough?

I of course am concerned less for me and more for the more vulnerable in our society (my dad is 81). But I'm also just looking forward to all of this being over and life returning to normal. Because coronavirus is a bitch in all kinds of ways, including how it's disrupting our economy and just our daily life. And if that's "selfish anger," well, that's what I got right now.

Goodreads Book Review: The Art of Racing in the Rain

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

It's been awhile since I've written one of these.

Garth Stein's The Art of Racing in the Rain had been on my reading list for awhile, but now that it's been adapted into a film, I felt I finally had to get around to reading it.

And I seem to be dissenting from popular opinion (or at least popular opinion as reflected on Goodreads) on this novel. Because while I definitely found The Art of Racing in the Rain to be an enjoyable read, when I reflect upon it, I think this book is really just...ok...definitely not as outstanding as some make it out to be.

I would give it 3.5 starts, but because Goodreads doesn't allow for half-stars I'm rounding down to 3.

I wasn't put off by the premise of the dog-as-narrator, but in this case it didn't fully work for a few reasons. Its hard not to compare it to another popular doggy-narrated book-turned-film, A Dog's Purpose. That book, which was super-sentimental, also got 3 stars from me. However, the voice of the narrator (who is actually multiple reincarnated dogs) actually approached what the inner experience of a dog might be like - navigating the world through a mix of the five senses and the emotional energy of the humans around him/her.

Not Enzo. The Art of Racing in the Rain makes it explicit very early on that Enzo is "not like other dogs." Enzo is a philosophizing dog who longs to be human. His understanding of the world has been shaped through the TV programs his owner Denny leaves on for him, including a documentary about Mongolia that suggested that after a dog dies it becomes a man.

Did I mention that Enzo likes to philosophize? This is what made the narration not work for me. I can suspend disbelief to allow for a dog to narrate a book, but Enzo's deep and specific philosophies and beliefs about life were just distracting. They would take me out of the novel, because I'd start wondering how much the dog narrator was just a stand-in for the author's own beliefs. Stein, like human main character Denny, is a racecar enthusiast from the Pacific Northwest, so it's clear is own experiences did make their way into this book. But basically, when it comes down to it, Enzo is just too human, and not dog enough.

And some of this human-like dog's ideas and opinions are just aggravating. A human being who goes around using the word "manifest" ("What you manifest is before you") makes me want to bang my head up against something; it's not less annoying when that character is a dog.

That being said, Enzo is also witty and intelligent, and, like most dogs, he is loving and faithfully devoted to his family.

That family is Denny, Denny's wife, Eve, and their daughter Zoe. When it comes down to it, The Art of Racing in the Rain is a family drama. The love that this family has for each other and the dog's central place in it are woven throughout the story, but the story itself is somewhat conventional and cliché. Terminal illness, evil/cowardly in-laws, false accusations, and a fierce custody battle are major elements that provide drama but never rise above the ordinary. And the unreliable narration that is employed in the courtroom scenes (which Enzo "reconstructs" from television crime dramas") again required too much suspension of belief for me.

I am curious how much the film changed from the novel in order to a achieve a PG rating. Even though they both contain some heavy themes, The Art of Racing in the Rain comes across as much more "adult" in the way its told than A Dog's Purpose. It might be the writing style or the word choice (Enzo, of course, has a more extensive vocabulary than many-a-human). It's rarely explicit, but there are a few sex scenes that are just....weird (and more graphic than the "wrestling" described by the dogs in A Dog's Purpose).

Of course, race car metaphors are predominant in this book. For car racing enthusiasts, this might be a plus, but for me they became strained after awhile.

But I did enjoy The Art of Racing in the Rain. As conventional as the plot was, it was a unique novel in many ways. Just not a masterpiece.

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Goodreads Book Review: Lucky Boy

Lucky Boy by Shanthi Sekaran
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I can't remember how I first heard about Shanthi Sekran's novel Lucky Boy, but when I added it to my reading list I had no idea it would prove to be as timely as it did. Lucky Boy is the story of two women and their love for one "lucky boy." It is also a story of undocumented immigration and a system that wrenches children from their parents. The novel is a compelling, beautifully written reminder of the human faces behind an issue that is hotly politicized but at its basis about human beings and human rights.

The story is told from alternating points of view of two women. Solimar "Soli" Castro Valdez is, at 18 years old, on the cusp of adulthood and living in a depressed, rural village outside of Oaxaca, Mexico. Soli longs for more than life in her village has to offer, so she decides to embark on a perilous journey to Berkley, California, where her cousin Sylvia already lives. When she shows up without documents at Sylvia's doorstep, she is pregnant with the son she will name Ignacio.

Solimar's journey to America inside and on the top of freight trains is filled with the terror and brutality that one might expect but also with moments of joy and excitement. (view spoiler)[She experiences young love with a fellow traveler named Checo but is also raped by multiple men. When Ignacio is born, she is relieved to see in him Checo's features. (hide spoiler)]. When she arrives in America, the details of her everyday life as a housekeeper and nanny are juxtaposed with the fear she lives in because of her undocumented status. Eventually she is placed in an immigrant detention center and Ignacio is placed into the care of Kavya Reddy and her husband, Rishi.

Kavya recently awakened to her desire to have a child, but when she struggles to conceive, she and Rishi explore fertility treatments, adoption, and, finally, much to the chagrin of Kavya's traditional Indian parents, fostering. As she and Rishi watch Ignacio grow from infancy to toddlerhood, they nurture hopes of being able to adopt him and suppress their knowledge that Ignacio's birth mother is alive and well and fighting to be reunited with her child.

Sekram treats all her major characters sympathetically. Both Soli and Kavya are clearly bound by love to Ignacio, who truly is a lucky boy to be placed in a loving, stable home rather than stuck in a "tender age shelter." Rishi plays somewhat of a lesser role, but he too comes to fully embrace fatherhood. Sekram draws upon her personal experience as an Indian American in depicting Kavya and Rishi, and she contrasts their experiences as the children of immigrants with those of Soli while showing how they are alike as well. She also draws upon her experiences as a resident of Berkely, depicting the hipsterish "Gourmet Ghetto" and nearby Silicon Valley. Rishi's job at "Weebies," an internet mega-provider of baby gear, wasn't as believable to me, though. He works as a ventilation engineer on Weebies' sprawling campus, and his job seems to be a metaphor for something to do with purity, babies, keeping babies safe...I wasn't exactly sure. I know Silicon Valley is a strange place, but unlike other details in the book, it just didn't ring true.

But that's a minor complaint. As well as being incredibly timely and humanizing, Lucky Boy is, aside from a few instances of purple prose, a beautifully written story. Evocative and moving, it is a must-read for the times we live in.

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Goodreads Book Review: So You've Been Publicly Shamed

So You've Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I wasn't really sure how to peg Jon Ronson's "So You've Been Publicly Shamed." It's not the sociological research-meets-self-help that Brene Brown is known for, despite covering similar territory to her research on shame. But then I read the endorsement on the back cover by Jon Stewart, where he refers to Ronson's work as "investigative satire," and yes, that seems to be the best way to characterize it. Despite the heavy subject matter, it started out funny and immensely readable, with one story flowing effortlessly into another. Somewhere in the middle, it started to lag for me. Still, I am giving it 4 stars, rounding up from 3.5, merely because it sheds light on a phenomenon that is so ubiquitous today.

Despite the title, this book deals with a very specific type of shame unique to the 21st century: internet shame. Beyond that, it focuses mostly on the shame delved out on one social media platform in particular: Twitter. That may seem a little narrow, but people who have immersed themselves deeply into Twitter have attested to it being especially toxic. I wish Ronson had explored this more...what is it about this specific platform, which is the common denominator in the stories he tells about people who have been recipients of public shame?

The stories Ronson tells are of people who have erred in some way, shape or form only to find themselves victim to a form of mob "justice" that goes as far as receiving death threats and calls for them to be fired. Their "crimes" run the gamut from telling crude or tasteless jokes to plagiarism. These individuals are not necessarily all blameless, but in all cases the backlash they receive is vastly disproportionate to their initial "crimes."

In between these stories, Ronson explores the history of public shaming (think 18th-century stocks) and the ways it is used (or rejected) in our contemporary justice system. He also explores research which might provide rational for this phenomenon, and in the process clarifies misconceptions about the Zimbardo research study taught in virtually every psychology program. Finally, he explores the psychological ramifications of shaming on the shamee. It is here that his book is most reminiscent of Brene Brown's work. Clearly shame, rather than being a motivator, can have devastating emotional effects on the recipient.

In the end, "So You've been Publicly Shamed" is inconclusive, and I felt it ended on a kind of pessimistic tone. The largest takeaway was that feedback loops are at work in people's online behavior: people are reinforced for having the "correct" opinions which keeps discourse narrow, with people afraid to voice dissent for fear of being shamed. I wanted more on this: people are afraid of stepping out of line, yes, but do people join in with the shamers so as to not align with the shamee and become shamed themselves?

I also was left with a feeling of "what do we do now" other than just step away from the internet or particularly toxic platforms. A common thread in the stories that Ronson tells is that people who take part in heaping cruelty on others were motivated by feeling that they were actually doing something good. In fact, a certain type of "callout culture" that easily turns into shaming has become prevalent in social justice circles online. Thankfully, there are people within activist circles who are "calling out" callout culture and offering alternatives for sociopolitical engagement minus the shame. Dropping a few links here:

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/call...
http://nique.net/opinions/2018/02/11/...
https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/mag...

So while I wanted a little more from Jon Ronson with this book, it is a very necessary one for today's society and a worthy read for those trying to navigate the online world with their sanity intact. And perhaps tread lightly on Twitter!




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#NotAllMen, But #YesAll Women (#MeToo)

In the weeks since the allegations against filmmaker Harvey Weinstein sparked the #MeToo Movement, more allegations of sexual abuse have come out, both in and outside of Hollywood.

I never felt comfortable posting the hashtag.  I've been lucky in that I've only experienced the mildest of street harassment, and I felt like I would be taking away from survivors' accounts of "real" abuse. But the more I saw countless friends and family post the hashtag, some expressing the same sentiments as mine, the more I saw just how prevalent harassment and abuse against women are, and that ALL experiences of it, from the most mild to the most heinous, are part of the same toxic system.

#MeToo also had me reflecting on experiences that I had just dismissed as "normal" before. The two that stand out to me were both incidents of being hit on by drunk men. One was on a train on the way back from NYC. I had walked through several jam-packed cars to FINALLY find an open seat...and when the man sitting next to me started talking to me, I discovered why that seat had remained open. The second was when a friend and I went to see her cousin's band perform outside of Ocean City. Both times I felt uncomfortable, but also mildly amused and even a bit flattered...because well, when you have low self-esteem you take any attention you get.

But though I brushed it aside, both times I was obviously uncomfortable enough to attract the notice of other people, and I am grateful for those people, both men and women, for checking to see if I was okay.

Unwanted attention is just that, unwanted. Harassment is not flattering. And while these experiences are obviously MUCH milder than the allegations of assault that have come to light recently, they shouldn't be normalized. I shouldn't have to live in a world in which this is just par for the course for "yes, all women" or one in which I have to adjust my behavior to "protect myself" enough to merely operate in this world.

As stated above, I am grateful for the people who have the decency and courage to speak up when they witness ANY level of harassment. And I am grateful to have many wonderful men in my life who treat women with basic human dignity. Men aren't the problem. The patriarchy is. And as the allegations against Kevin Spacey have shown, not only women are victims. "Patriarchy" is more about the powerful exploiting and abusing the less powerful...who yes, often are women, but not always.

And it's not just a Hollywood problem; this abuse is prevalent in all industries. As former Fox News host Gretchen Carlson said recently on The Daily Show, it's not a liberal or a conservative problem, a Democrat or Republican issue.

But there is good in all of this coming to light. It reminds me of what a friend was saying after  Charlottesville...whether the disease is racism or misogyny and abuse, you don't treat a disease that remains dormant. Maybe now we'll finally start treating our societal sickness, not just in Hollywood, and not just in politics, but everywhere.