Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Shelter-in-place is hard for us all


Here's my problem living with sheltering in place.

[Yes, I know that I am writing this from my place of extraordinarily privileged. I should be, and I am, deeply grateful that I have a bicycle, a car, leisure time, and health. That I have enough disposable income to be able enjoy the recreational opportunities of Alameda, California, should they be available. I have the luxury of riding a bicycle for recreation and exercise, not because it is my sole means of transportation, nor because it is necessary for my work. I am deeply grateful for these privileges that I enjoy. But still, after months of relative solitude, this is how shelter-in-place is affecting me.]

The other day I went to Alameda (California) to ride my bike. I drove there alone. Even if I had gone with someone, we would have taken separate cars so as not to be in an enclosed space together. I rode alone. Even if I had ridden with someone, cycling is mostly a solo experience much of the time anyway, and I wouldn't have wanted either of us huffing and puffing on each other if we were communicating.

Under normal circumstances I might have brought a book, perhaps to sit in a cafe afterwards, people watching and having a latte. But no. I suppose I could have sat at an outdoor table, if one were available, and watched people go by, wearing masks, making no contact. Or, I could have sat on the beach - alone, making no contact - except of course that the beach in Alameda is usually windy, and yesterday unusually high winds are expected. Though I saw that there were plenty of people on the beach, for me that is no fun. I suppose I could have picked up some groceries or mailed some letters - woo hoo!

So, I went to Alameda, rode, and then came home.

Alone.

And that is my problem with shelter-in-place.

Monday, September 28, 2020

COVID in Winter


I woke up this morning really, really, truly anxious about the arrival of winter. What is going to happen to people during a winter with a raging COVID-19 epidemic? 

What happens to restaurants that are barely holding on right now, when weather makes outdoor dining basically impossible? What happens to all sorts of shops, grocery stores, etc., that expect lines of people to stand outside and wait before coming in one at a time? It’s one thing to keep people lined up on the sidewalk in good weather – in the middle of a winter storm is quite another. And let us not forget the lines outside of unemployment offices.

What happens when travel to pleasant, warm places is difficult, or even banned due to travel restrictions? What happens when you can’t have a socially distanced visit outside in the yard with family, friends, or neighbors, because it’s raining, cold, snowing, or whatever flavor of "shitty" your climate brings in winter? We will all be even more isolated.

I don’t know what brought skiing to mind (I can’t ski any more due to health issues), but I wonder if ski areas can survive with socially distanced skiing. One person per lift? Lift lines with people 6' apart? Lift lines that snake for a mile, not just an annoyingly long 50'? Not that skiing is so terribly important to the world, but having the ski industry wiped out kills a whole domino of support industries and jobs.

More importantly, what businesses haven’t I thought of that can’t survive a socially distanced fall/winter/spring, and the businesses that rely on those businesses, and the people that rely on the jobs they provide?

What is it like to wear a mask when its freezing cold and your breath condenses on it?

What the fuck is this winter going to be like?

[PS: Yes, I am aware that the examples of dining out, travel, and skiing are largely the concerns of the wealthy. I am just as concerned, or more so, about the emotional and financial impact on those less fortunate. These are just my personal thoughts on how COVID may affect me. Furthermore, while "trickle-down" economics doesn’t work, the web effects of wiping out any given industry impacts us all.]

Friday, September 25, 2020

The Empty Seat

Kero, Co-Pilot, October 2004

When I drive with Molly, she pretty much stays in the back. If we’re headed to the dog park, sometimes she gets so excited that she will try to climb into the front seat, but that’s pretty much it.

Kero used to stick her head over the seat back for me to pet her at red lights. She liked to lick my ears, which were at just the right height while I was seated in the car. She’d go crazy licking the ears of passengers. Anyone in the passenger seat got a serious mopping. She loved everyone, and showed her affection with generous kisses. I used to say that she would “French” on the first date.

My dad hated that. While we were driving, Kero would lean over and try to lick his ears. He’d bat her away like a mosquito, exclaiming, “fuyh!

Kero died 5 years ago today. My dad passed about 2.5 years ago.

I have Molly to keep me company, but COVID isolation is getting very heavy.

The passenger seat feels very empty.

Monday, September 21, 2020

The Tomato Sandwich



Some years ago, a girlfriend introduced me to tomato sandwiches. When she told me we were having them for lunch, I thought she was crazy. It turns out she was anything but. Tomato sandwiches are simplicity itself, and deliciousness itself. 

There is no recipe for a tomato sandwich. To look at one is to know the recipe. I like mine as simple as can be; two slices of really good bread (I like a slightly sweeter bread); mayonnaise on one or both pieces; a thick slice of a beefsteak tomato fresh from the garden or farm-stand, salt and pepper. But you can use whatever bread you like - toasted or untoasted. Mayonnaise or not is up to you - or substitute something else, or leave  off dressing altogether, relying on the tomato to provide moistness. One slice of a giant beefsteak or big-boy tomato, or multiple slices of smaller tomatoes, or even a pile of thin tomato slices. The only thing that is important is that each element must be excellent – being such a simple, pared down collection, each must shine on its own. 

Here I am using a bread sweetened (and colored) with honey and caramel coloring, with gray salt.

As I have come to understand, tomato sandwiches really aren’t madness. Cucumber sandwiches are just the same – slices of a savory fruit on bread. [From a botanist’s perspective, both tomatoes and cucumbers are fruits.] Watercress sandwiches live in the same flavor-space. Arguably bruschetta is at its most basic a simple bread, garlic, and olive oil affair. I am told that after a long night of drinking, nothing pleases some in Asia more than rice with soy sauce and sesame oil – possibly with sliced scallions if one is feeling wild. I have no doubt that around the world there is a simple, savory something enjoyed in each and every culture. 

So, go nuts. Have a tomato sandwich. Then tell me who’s crazy.

The kind we grow here: 'Boxcar Willie'

Sunday, September 20, 2020

American employers should want single-payer health care



Earlier this summer, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled on the case of Trump v. Pennsylvania. The court decided in favor of Trump, concluding that employers have broad religious and moral exemptions from the mandate that health insurance provided to their workers include coverage for birth control. Soon the court, minus Justice Ginsberg, may rule on other aspects of ACA potentially dooming that legislation.

But that is not what I want to talk about. Every time questions are raised related to health insurance provided by corporations, I am reminded of something my dad used to say. He was very conservative and voted the straight republican ticket for most of his life. [He voted Republican up until tRump. He couldn’t bring himself to vote for a man he called an “unqualified moron”, regardless of party loyalty.] He owned a small specialty chemical business. Over the years he had anywhere from 3 employees (in the earliest days), to 50 or 60 at the company’s peak.

Every time the issue of health insurance came up, American business would vigorously declare that the government should stay out of it. My father would shake his head and growl, “What, are they nuts?” He would say things like, “I am in the chemical business. I am not in the insurance business. I don’t know health insurance, and I don’t want to have to provide it to my employees.” He would ask, “Why do these companies want to deal with this mishegas? They make cars, or sell shoes, or fly airplanes. That’s what they should do!” He would go on, “Every year I have to read through all these fucking insurance riders and choose the best insurance for my people. What if I make a mistake? I lie awake at night worrying about what would happen if I chose a bad insurance plan and an employee suffers.” [He really was a good employer in spite of his gruffness and conservative nature.] “If the government wants to take over health insurance, I say ‘Please! Please do!’ What makes these companies want to deal with this nonsense. Let the government take it over! Please.”

Of course, it was a rhetorical question. He knew why, and I do too. The vast majority of America’s major corporations are run by arch conservatives who want the government to tax as little as possible, and provide as few services as possible. They also want their employees to be stuck in their jobs due to the need for insurance. Furthermore, large corporations can carry the cost of human resources departments that handle getting, maintaining, and managing healthcare policies. It’s no skin off the back of the people at the top to have their businesses providing healthcare insurance to their employees.

But life would be so much easier for everyone if we just had universal healthcare. Corporations that aren’t in the healthcare industry could focus on their core competency, whatever that might be. For companies with religious or moral objections to certain healthcare options, the issue becomes moot. Also, companies can stop playing stupid games such as making sure that everyone is part-time, or a consultant, etc. to avoid having to provide benefits (of which insurance is far and away the most expensive.) Meanwhile, companies use health insurance as a way to handcuff their employees to their jobs. But, I have to ask, do they really want employees that are only there because of the health insurance benefit? I’ve got to believe that someone clocking in every day solely for the health care is unlikely to be a company’s dedicated performer! Let them go, taking their government provided health insurance with them, and bring in someone else who is truly invested in the work. Then the employee, now freed from the need for employer sponsored healthcare, can find another job that better suits their needs, aptitudes, and desires. Everyone wins - the worker, the employers on both side of the move, and the economy. Everyone.

Oh, and another benefit of a single-payer system: all Americans can get the healthcare they need without going bankrupt. Not having your company situated in a country filled with the sick, dying, and bankrupt, has got to be worth something. And the net cost for American businesses will be almost nothing. If business stopped objecting and just let the government take over providing health care in this country, they could relieve themselves of all the overhead of providing it themselves. Sure, their taxes would probably go up, but, that tax burden would be spread across all taxpayers. I am hard pressed to believe that the portion contributed by corporate taxes would be greater than the cost employers already bear providing private health insurance. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so.

So, please, can we stop litigating who pays for what, when, and how, and just give the human beings that live in American healthcare already? Geesh.