liam at sixteen

We interrupt this national crisis to bring you something good!

Today Liam is 16, and we celebrated! Sure, we did it pandemic style, but we did it anyway. His two BFFs came over to hang out, and I ordered pizza for them for lunch. That was an experience by itself because apparently "contactless delivery" means the delivery person pulls the pizzas out of the bag, puts the bag on the ground, stacks the pizza boxes on top of the bag, and then waits for someone to notice he's there and go retrieve the pizzas. We managed it, though, and I was excited to discover that one of the two pizza places in town actually delivers to our house. The other delivers to the subdivision across the street (we know because we see the deliveries), but apparently *this* side of the street is just a bridge too far. Your loss, Pizza Hut!

Anyway, the boys stuffed themselves with pizza, played video games (his friends have been careful about distancing all this time, so all of us parents decided this was low risk), came upstairs, had cake (no candles, but they did sing), played rock-paper-scissors, and then played about a million rounds of hide-and-seek. During the last round, my parents were here (to pick Liam up for his birthday dinner) and Liam was excited about hiding up a tree. My dad: How old are they again?? Me: They're sixteen, and SHUT UP, because the longer they think this sweet wholesome fun time is the best thing ever, the happier I'll be!

I'm kidding, but also not. I LOVE that these boys all get together and use their imaginations and play classic games and have a blast doing it. There's plenty of time for not-so-wholesome activities that are most likely going to happen later on, but that's a problem for Future Forts. Present Forts just get to sit back and enjoy the fun.

At 16, our Liam is pretty darned cranky. He speaks in a series of monosyllables and grunts most of the time, and gets awfully impatient when someone asks him to repeat himself or offer more information. But you know what? That's pretty much the worst thing about him, so we're not doing too badly at all. He's got a great work ethic, he manages his time well, he never hesitates to help other people, and he's GREAT with little kids.

One thing I really love is watching Liam with his peers. Whether we're at tennis games or school plays or just at the grocery store and he sees someone he knows, Liam is friendly and open and confident. He's self-assured in a way I definitely wasn't at his age. Mike and I marvel sometimes at how two weird introverted hermits managed to produce a young man who is so comfortable interacting with people, and so good at it. It's a skill that will serve him well as he moves into adulthood, and we're so grateful that he has it.

Like I said, Liam's favorite things are still pretty wholesome. He loves playing with the dogs, playing video games, and group chatting with his friends. But he's definitely working on becoming an adult. In the past year, he has started talking to girls (no details, I'm not here to embarrass him, I'm just documenting), and of course the big development is that he is driving now. The day he got his learner's permit, we walked out of the DMV and I handed him the keys and said, "OK, drive us home." He was so nervous, and he made a couple little mistakes, but he stayed calm and got us home pretty smoothly, even though his adrenaline must have been quite high. And since that day, he's gotten more and more confident (but not cocky) behind the wheel. He still has to wait 90 days and take the driving test, and then he'll be our very own licensed driver. I for one can't wait! I fully plan to turn over the keys to the minivan and let someone else do carpooling duties for a while.

For the upcoming school year, Liam decided to take all the hard classes. Calculus, AP Physics, AP English, advanced chemistry ... it makes me tired just thinking about it. But he's excited about it. He's ready to learn new things and challenge himself. He also decided this year to drop Spanish in favor of taking two years of American sign language, and I heartily approve that choice. And yes, all this is in addition to tennis, speech, the community service club, and all the other things he does. He's going to be busy!

We are so proud and continually amazed by this young man. Liam, we can't wait to see where the next year takes you! We love you so much.

covid diary: day 110

You guys, I don't even know what to say anymore.

It turns out that Russia has been paying Taliban troops to kill American soldiers, and the president knew about it, and instead of doing anything to protect Americans and/or punish Russia, he's been arguing for Russia to be let back into the G7.

Listen, my life hasn't been all that long (well, to me; it's been hella long if you're looking at it from the perspective of a 10-year-old), and never would I have imagined writing that sentence.

But that's not the only thing going on. In Arizona, hospitals have reached capacity and they're implementing "crisis standards of care." That means a change in the way patients are triaged. It means putting off any non-essential medical service or surgery to save room for COVID patients. It means assessing those patients for their likelihood of survival, looking at their age and life expectancy, and assessing preexisting conditions to determine who gets care, and who gets sent back home (spoiler: old people, fat people, and people with chronic conditions).

Texas and Florida are in the same boat as Arizona. And what are the governors doing in those states? Well, they're closing the bars. Which I guess will help, but it's not enough. They can't even bring themselves to make everyone wear a mask.

We're all screwed.

Meanwhile, we had a weekend. I worked the whole time, because it turns out that when you get your hours cut in half, you have to hustle for all the side projects you can get, even if they take a long time and don't pay as well as your regular job. And with no security, you can't say no.

Mike and the boys worked outside, and Liam even went to the park to play pickleball with Laura and Jimmy and Gracie. Mike picked me some lilies from the garden; he brought the outside to me, since I haven't had much time to go to the outside. I love them.

And on we go.

Nationwide cases: 2,682,897. Deaths: 129,544.

covid diary: day 106

Oh hey. Hi there. Remember the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention? The CDC? You know, those folks in Atlanta who used to be¹ in charge of stuff like responding to disease outbreaks. Yeah, them. I know, it's hard to remember because it's been so long since they were relevant and/or allowed to speak. It's been fully one million years² since we've had actual responsible scientists with data conducting this train, so it's understandable if you forgot the CDC even existed or what it was supposed to do.

But today, CDC Director Dr. Robert Redfield³ said on a conference call that the CDC estimates that for every case of COVID-19 that's been reported, there have actually been 10 additional cases. So say you have 2.3 million cases reported (which we do, and then some). That means the actual number is something more like 23 million. If you're a math like I totally am,⁴ you did that quick calculation in your head⁵ and discovered that it works out to a whopping 6.9 percent of the total population.

According to Johns Hopkins, we would need to have 70 percent to 80 percent of the total population to have antibodies in order to achieve the fabled herd immunity. So basically, this never-ending nightmare that we're all stuck in? We would need to multiply that by 10⁶ to come anywhere near herd immunity.

Important note: These cases are here whether the testing is done or not. I seriously get so mad when people (or the president) say that the increased infection numbers are a function of increased testing. THEY. ARE. NOT. And you know how you know that? Because the number of infections are going up, but so is the rate of infection. And the rate of infection is a number that takes into account both the number of positive tests and the total number of tests conducted. So the "we're doing so many tests" thesis is already baked into this particular pie.

Anyway, I guess that CDC report kind of better explains this map from Axios:

And this graph from Johns Hopkins. Take a look particularly at where we were in the "worst" of the early pandemic, and where we are as of today. That's right, our five-day rolling average now is HIGHER than anything we've seen so far.⁷ We're right up there with Brazil!

Good times, amirite?

In news not close enough to home, my niece and great-nephew are moving away tomorrow, so today was goodbye times. I'm going to miss them both terribly. You know this is true because (a) I allowed my picture to be taken and (b) I'm even posting it here.⁸ I made her promise that she would send many (many!) pictures of their continuing adventures, and I'll have to make do with that.

E is just the cutest.

In other news, a certain bargain airline is having a huge sale, and we had a ton of credits from pre-pandemic times just laying around, so in a fit of optimism, we bought plane tickets for fall break. I put our chances of actually going somewhere in the range of 15 percent. There are a LOT of hurdles to clear first, including but not limited to possible changes to the school schedule, infection rates at home and at our destination, and whether Earth continues to rotate around the sun and be habitable to humans.⁹ You know, the small stuff. Anyway, it's something to hope for, and if it doesn't work out we just go back to having credits, so we don't lose any kind of investment. Stick a pin in this date, and in late October, we can come back and see how good I am at prognosticating. Well, as long as the planet's still here by then.

Nationwide cases: 2,404,781. Deaths: 122,320.

¹ Pre-January 2017.
² Since January 2017.
³ Trust me, he's not as ruggedly good-looking as his name might lead you to imagine.
⁴ For the love of god, don't ask me to math.
⁵ Or you looked up an online percentage calculator. Not that I know anything about that.
⁶ Math again. Dammit.
⁷ But wait I thought the president said pandemic times were over?!?!? NOT SO FAST.
⁸ Both things I hate with a fiery passion, but there's not much I wouldn't do for either of them.
⁹ Listen, I don't take this stuff for granted anymore.

covid diary: day 105

just a tree, covered with moss, in a bayou south of NOLA

holli has been working a ton of extra hours on multiple projects lately, which explains both yesterday's lack of blog and today's last-minute fill-in by me (mike). and that's fine. the world is fine. I SAID EVERYTHING'S FINE.

holli went to bed early and i started this entry, then i sat back for a minute and fell asleep on the couch. i woke up about 10 minutes ago and had to ask the kids what time/day it was (what is time anymore?). so let me hack this blog out, with random pics from my phone, and call it a night.

i took the day off, because today was MAX FINALLY GETS HIS BRACES OFF day! we rolled him out of bed at 6:45 (they have one of those in the morning now) and headed to the bustling metroplex that is south bend/mishawaka. we were 20 minutes early, somehow, but after texting that we were there, they summoned him in a few minutes and off he went. i spent the next 45 minutes getting gas and then sitting in the parking lot looking through random pics on my phone, which explains the theme of this post. except for this one:

seven years (two rounds), about two feet of vertical growth

braces suck, but i'm glad we got them for max (and liam). he'll thank us someday (NOPE), regardless of how much he has resented us during the past few years. ah, he's young, he'll get over it, maybe.

after leaving the orthodontist, we made a stop at menards and bought two more ceiling fans, along with about a hundred pounds of bird seed. a few weeks ago, henry's ceiling light stopped working, and we assumed the light itself had gone kaput. we found an attractive yet relatively inexpensive ceiling fan/light on the menards website, so the next time we were in south bend, we bought it. after spending about an hour figuring out which circuit breaker shut off power to henry's room (the previous owners never labeled their breaker box, those #$%^&@#$), i removed the old light and installed the fan. and it didn't work. i thought for a moment, then opened the wall switch and discovered a wire had pulled out from its mounting screw (i'm sure these have proper electrician names, but i don't know them). so i fixed that, and the fan worked. yay me. (ignore the fact that the problem the whole time was the switch, not the light.) the other boys were jealous and HAD TO HAVE THEIR OWN FANS, so now they do. they just have to install them, hahahaha.

bugs on milkweed in the pasture. holli: are they humping? maybe? bugs gotta hump too

i saw this at martin's the other day. only a couple of people on earth will understand this nonsensical reference, and that's fine. i said IT'S FINE.

the green goddess is friends with the psychedelic dragon

our strawberry patch is producing on overdrive, which turns out to be a problem. apparently henry, who wanted the patch in the first place, doesn't actually like strawberries. the other boys and holli don't either, and i'm allergic. so apparently we are growing strawberries to feed the birds.

bird food

i built a bunch of dirt mounds out behind the barn in an area of the pasture that i mowed down, and i planted pumpkins and interesting gourds. the other day i stumbled in a hole next to a mound and heard a roar of buzzes, and off i ran. after realizing i wasn't being swarmed by yellow jackets (i have a bad history of stepping on yellow jacket nests), i reconnoitered and discovered it was a bumblebee hive. i didn't know bumblebees had ground hives (no idea what kind they are), but it doesn't matter. i'm all about the bees. we need to do more to help the bees.

bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

so what's going on in the world? ugh, i don't want to look at anything beyond my five acres. florida announced more than 5500 new coronavirus cases in the last 24 hours, and that's not considering how florida has been roundly (and credibly) accused of misclassifying case and death numbers. SOS. you can't "open up" and claim victory over a virus (seriously, how fucking dumb is that?) by having a huge amount of new cases and deaths. but ron desantis (R-shithead) and florida are trying. not to be outdone, texas governor greg abbott (R-assbag) said that he'd allow local officials to impose certain restrictions (such as mandatory mask wearing) in response to the out-of-control pandemic in his state, which clocked in at 5400 positive tests in the last 24 hours. this was a big turn-around, as abbott had previously prevented any locality from enforcing their own prevention measures. only took the idiot several weeks to figure that out. SOS. i don't even want to talk about the beautiful state of arizona, which i love and desperately want to visit again so i can show it to my kids. especially tucson. but considering what's going on there, it may be years. decades. and that sucks.

henry drinking hot chocolate at cafe du monde, for no reason

so there you are. everything sucks, but nature rules and max's braces are off. save our ship, and on we go.

covid diary: day 103

Haha, ok, sure.

It felt like a very long weekend. The Trump administration did some real sketchy shit, like trying to fire the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York (again) because he's investigating the president's personal lawyer and other cronies (again) because they're all a bunch of criminals. Also he had a big rally in Tulsa, and the campaign touted it as the kickoff to this election season, bragging that fully ONE MILLION tickets had been reserved. Not only that, but bragging that the data collected from those fully ONE MILLION reservations was going to catapult the data-collection arm of the campaign into the stratosphere.

Hahahahaha, too bad that's not how it worked out. In reality (or as Rachel Maddow puts it, "here on Earth 1") only about 6,200 people attended the rally. None of them social distanced, most of them declined to wear masks, and all of them are people with very bad judgment.

But what happened to the rest of the reservations? Sure, there were some supporters who maybe decided not to risk their health by going, but it turns out the bulk of the tickets were reserved by teenagers and K-pop stans, in a campaign coordinated over social media. These kids posted online to teach each other to create dummy email accounts and temporary phone numbers, register for tickets, get confirmation of their reservation, and then delete the accounts. And THEN they deleted the social media posts they used to coordinate the effort.

These kids need to GET ON MY LAWN. Seriously. So smart. So creative!

And what a blow to Trump. We all know that he's a dark malevolence who feeds on the attention of others, so having to give a triumphant speech to a not-even-half-full venue was a real ego blow for him. Not to mention that all that fake data has now infiltrated the campaign infrastructure, so any subsequent email/direct mail/phone campaigns will have a very high failure rate (or they'll just have to delete all the data from the whole event, including from actual supporters, and lose all the time/effort/money they spent promoting the thing).

In short, I believe the children are our future. And the K-pop stans, even though I don't really understand them as a whole because I am old and missed that whole movement.

Nationwide cases: 2,312,302. Deaths: 120,402.

covid diary: day 100

Are there 100 clematis blooms right now? 
Probably, but I'm not counting them.

Every year, for the 100th day of school, at least one of the boys has had to take in 100 of something to help them visualize it. 100 cheerios. 100 legos. 100 paper clips or buttons or pieces of candy. And now here we are at 100 days of me keeping this pandemic times diary. How do I visualize it? As an eternity and also the blink of an eye. A series of very long and confusing days that blend together so much in my mind that without this record, I wouldn't be able to tell you what happened when, or even give an estimate of how long ago that was. Every day seems like a lifetime.

Governor Andrew Cuomo of New York gave his final daily coronavirus briefing today, because after 111 days (clearly New York started really paying attention a little before I did), the state is finally getting some relief. They're reporting their highest numbers of daily tests conducted, their lowest rate of new infections, and their lowest rate of weekly fatalities since the pandemic started. Great job, New Yorkers! But now it's time for the hard, almost impossible work of mourning the dead, digging out of individual and business and municipal and state debt, and—oh yeah—not letting the curve start to rise again.

Are there 111 strawberries in Henry's strawberry patch? 
Likely, but I doubt we can get Henry to count them either.

Meanwhile, 21 other states have case levels on the rise. Those states include Oklahoma, where D. Trump is holding his first rally since the pandemic started. The rally is scheduled for tomorrow, and there will be tens of thousands of people packed into an arena in Tulsa. Each attendee has been asked to sign a waiver stating that they will not sue Trump or the campaign if they catch any illness (gee, I wonder which illness they could be thinking of) while attending the rally. Let's see. Tens of thousands of people, all crammed in together, most of them likely not wearing masks (because FREEDOM, or something), all of them shouting and chanting and making America sick. What could possibly go wrong?

Today is also Juneteenth.

Now, I grew up in Indiana, so I guess a case can be made for why I didn't learn about Juneteenth in school. Except ... I did have a lot of years of American history, and Black American history IS American history. What I learned in school was that the Civil War was fought over "state's rights" more than over slavery. (Which is BF.) I learned that slavery was a Bad Thing, but also that some slaves were treated really well and had very good lives. (Which is also BF. What a crock.) I learned that America didn't "invent" slavery because Africans had been enslaving other Africans long before white people came along. (OK but that form of slavery was often not permanent, and definitely not generational, nor was it on such a horrific scale.)

So no, I didn't learn about Juneteenth in school. I learned about it where I learn about so many things: in a book. I don't have any idea what book, or when I read it, but I do remember at some point when I lived in Chicago reading the word and looking it up online, on my hand-me-down computer with the dial-up connection.

Anyway, Juneteenth. On September 22, 1862, Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. In it, he declared that effective January 1, 1863, all enslaved people "shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free." Here's how the National Museum of African American History and Culture describes what happened next:

On “Freedom’s Eve,” or the eve of January 1, 1863, the first Watch Night services took place. On that night, enslaved and free African Americans gathered in churches and private homes all across the country awaiting news that the Emancipation Proclamation had taken effect. At the stroke of midnight, prayers were answered as all enslaved people in Confederate States were declared legally free. Union soldiers, many of whom were black, marched onto plantations and across cities in the south reading small copies of the Emancipation Proclamation, spreading the news of freedom in Confederate States. Only through the Thirteenth Amendment did emancipation end slavery throughout the United States. 

But not everyone in Confederate territory would immediately be free. Even though the Emancipation Proclamation was made effective in 1863, it could not be implemented in places still under Confederate control. As a result, in the westernmost Confederate state of Texas, enslaved people would not be free until much later. Freedom finally came on June 19, 1865, when some 2,000 Union troops arrived in Galveston Bay, Texas. The army announced that the more than 250,000 enslaved black people in the state were free by executive decree. This day came to be known as "Juneteenth" by the newly freed people in Texas. 

Juneteenth is an Independence Day. People celebrate it with food and family, with picnics and songs and games, and also with reflections on the past and hopes and goals for the future. If you want a good primer, do head to the NMAAHC because they've got a good one, complete with recipes and activities. It's worth noting that the NMAAHC was established in 2003, and didn't open its doors until 2016. The path to equality is painfully slow. The museum wasn't open yet when we were in DC, but if we ever make it back there, I would very much like to go there and learn.

I'll leave you with today's statement from President Barack Obama:

On this day in 1865, more than two years after President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation and two months after the end of the Civil War, the slaves of Galveston, Texas finally received word that they were free at last.

We don't have to look far to see that racism and bigotry, hate, and intolerance, are still all too alive in our world. Just as the slaves of Galveston knew that emancipation was only the first step toward true freedom, just as those who crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma knew their march was far from finished, or the protesters of today continue to fight for Black lives around the country––our work remains far from done. As long as people are treated differently based on nothing more than the color of their skin––we cannot honestly say that our country is living up to its highest ideals.

And that awareness isn’t unpatriotic. In fact, it’s patriotic to believe that we can make America better. We’re strong enough to be self-critical. We’re strong enough to look upon our imperfections and strive, together, to make this country we love more perfect. Juneteenth has never been a celebration of victory, or an acceptance of the way things are. Instead, it's a celebration of progress. It's an affirmation that despite the most painful parts of our history, change is possible. So no matter our color or our creed, no matter where we come from or who we love, today is a day to find joy in the face of sorrow and to hold the ones we love a little closer. And tomorrow is a day to keep marching.

Nationwide cases: 2,209,930. Deaths: 118,894.

covid diary: day 99

Thunder is "helping" me with a yoga pose.

A small scene of daily life here at Circus Forticus HQ. We're in the kitchen, talking about this and that.

Liam: I find [name redacted]'s posts not that great. Way too many hashtags!
Mike: I ... am not going to say anything about that.
Holli: What do you want to say?
Liam: Clearly you WANT to say something.
Mike: I said I wasn't going to say anything.
Holli: OK but *nobody* goes out of their way to say they won't commend on something unless they actually have an opinion about it.
Liam: You just want that hit of dopamine you get when everyone's attention is on you because they're begging you to say it.
Holli: I have never been prouder of you than I am in this moment.
Mike [flips us both off]: FINE I THINK [NAME REDACTED] IS A FACEBOOK BRAGGER.

Poor Liam followed his brilliant debate performance up by getting a migraine an hour later, and he was out for the night. I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to pass a propensity for migraines down to you. (I checked on him around 10:30 and he was feeling much better.)

This has been yet another terrible week for the commander in chief, who is losing in the polls by a wide margin to Joe Biden. Earlier this week, in a 6-3 decision written by Trump appointee Justice Gorsuch, the Supreme Court ruled against the Trump administration in deciding that employment discrimination clearly applies to gay and transgender people, so it is now illegal in all 50 states to fire someone because they are gay (or you think they are gay) or transgender (or you think they are transgender). The administration was actually arguing that employers SHOULD be able to fire people for no reason other than their sexual orientation or gender identity, so it really shouldn't come as a shock that SCOTUS smacked them down. Then today, SCOTUS found against Trump in another case, ruling 5-4 (in an opinion written by Chief Justice Roberts) that the Trump administration had illegally attempted to shut down the DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) program, which offers a path to citizenship for undocumented kids who were brought to the U.S. by their parents/guardians. This was a much narrower decision, in that the Court ruled that the shut down was illegal because the administration didn't offer a legal justification for doing so (meaning that they could try again to come up with a better justification, and the Court might accept that).

Anyway, these decisions led to Trump tweeting today: "Do you get the impression that the Supreme Court doesn’t like me?" Which led to NOBODY LIKES YOU trending on Twitter most of the day. Indeed, Twitter.

Two things about this: First, how big a narcissist do you have to be to think Supreme Court decisions regarding gay and transgender people and undocumented immigrants (two groups to which you don't belong) are about YOU PERSONALLY? And second, maybe the Supreme Court just doesn't like your administration's illegal actions. I'm no expert, but I think the second is much more likely.

What a loser, you guys. (fingers crossed that this is true on November 3)

Nationwide cases: 2,191,200. Deaths: 118,435.

covid diary: day 98

Here is a small sign of change: Quaker Oats announced today that it will give a new brand name and image to Aunt Jemima, the syrup/pancake brand. Why? Because finally, even Quaker Oats has been forced to admit that the entire brand has always been based on a harmful racial stereotype. Why has it taken them 95 years (Quaker Oats acquired Aunt Jemima in 1925) to realize this? I have no idea. I mean, it's not like they had any way to know they were perpetuating racist tropes of plantation life, minstrel shows (the name "Aunt Jemima" comes from a song of the same name that was popular in minstrel shows), and black women as "mammy."

Absolutely nothing problematic to see here.

Or here.

And definitely nothing troubling here.

And it's not like the calls for change just sprouted up in the current anti-racist environment. People have been calling for Aunt Jemima to change for YEARS. In today's statement, Quaker Oats VP and Chief Marketing Officer Kristin Kropfl put it this way: “We recognize Aunt Jemima’s origins are based on a racial stereotype. While work has been done over the years to update the brand in a manner intended to be appropriate and respectful, we realize those changes are not enough.” Hmm, I wonder what changes she means? Oh, I see, they used a new (but still black) face, removed the "mammy" scarf, and gave her some classy pearl earrings. Problem solved! Except not.

All better, right?

OOOOH, late breaking news: Mars Inc. also announced this afternoon that "now is the right time to evolve the Uncle Ben's brand, including its visual brand identity." Yes, please.

In other news, researchers still don't know why some people get critically ill from COVID-19 while others show only mild symptoms or even no symptoms. They've got a lot of theories, and they're studying the problem, but so far no concrete answers. A U.S. NIH study looked at which proteins appear in the blood of very sick people but not in other people. And a European study found correlations between two blood markers and respiratory failure. One of the markers is blood type:

The researchers found that patients who had Type A blood had a 50 percent higher risk of needing oxygen or a ventilator. Type O blood seemed to have a partial protective effect.

And it's not just the scientists. Those for-profit creepster DNA companies are getting in on the act too:

The consumer genetics giants Ancestry.com and 23andMe are getting involved. 23andMe recently released preliminary findings showing that people with Type O blood are 9 to 18 percent less likely to test positive for covid-19 than people with other blood types. The company is still exploring links between blood type and disease severity.

I mean, if that's the case, that's great for me. And my mom and dad and all my siblings. (Mom, Bethany, J, and I are all O negative; Dad and Lon are O positive.) Maybe not so great for Mike and the boys (all AB positive) though. I realize it's only a preliminary study (and basically anecdotal information from the DNA companies), but it's interesting. I could use any partial protective effect I can get.

Nationwide cases: 2,154,004. Deaths: 117,576.

covid diary: day 97

Pears. In a pear tree.

Over the weekend, I read a post from a friend who is on the local hospital board. They had a board meeting last week to discuss the rising rate of cases in our county. We're doubling every 7 to 10 days, which is not great. One of the key takeaways from the meeting was that 37 percent of the new cases were people age 19 and younger, and most of the rest were family groups connected to those kids. Put a pin in that information because it will be relevant later on.

Yesterday afternoon, I had to take Liam to the doctor. It's the first doctor appointment for any of us since the pandemic started, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Here's how it went: I called the doctor's office in the morning and gave them a brief synopsis of the issue (he has extremely thick skin under his toes that cracks and bleeds and makes it hard for him to get a full range of motion bending his toes; it's not a new problem, and he has seen this doctor for treatment for it before). My brief synopsis wasn't enough, so I had to answer a lengthy series of questions both about the specific problem and about Liam's general health (any coughing, fever, exposure to anyone with coughing or fever, etc.) and answer similar questions about the rest of the family too. The nurse wrote everything down, then submitted my request for an appointment to the doctor. I asked the nurse to tell me about the process, and it turns out that for now, they can make appointments for well visits (physicals, vaccinations) without going through the request process, but anything else, the doctor has to approve personally. "But," he told me, "the good news is that July 4, the governor says everything can open back up, so we will be able to schedule appointments regularly again!" So we hung up, and about an hour later, a different nurse called to say we had been approved for an appointment, and that we should come in 90 minutes. We had to pass a temperature screening to get into the medical office building, and they had masks on hand for anyone who didn't have their own. (We wore our own masks.) After that, the appointment was pretty standard, except there were only three chairs in the entire waiting room, each one spaced far apart, and everyone working there was wearing a mask.

Funny side note: The nurse we had was shorter than me by a lot, and she tried to take Liam's height by having him stand against the rule on the wall where you lift the bar and put it on the kid's head to read his height. Which was great, except she had to stand right against the wall on her tiptoes to get the rule bar to go high enough, and then she couldn't read the result because of the angle she was standing at. For the record, he didn't stand particularly straight or extend to his full height, and the official reading was 6 feet, 4.5 inches.

After the doctor's office, Liam and I had to drive to the pharmacy to pick up some prescription cream for his feet, along with Epsom salts for foot baths and some other supplies. We were the only customers in the store wearing masks.

In the evening, Mike took Liam to register for the abbreviated summer tennis season. When they arrived at the courts, there were about 15 or so people around a couple of tables signing kids up. Mike and Liam were the only ones wearing masks. Mike asked the woman who runs the program what plans they have for protecting the kids against spread of the virus. He explained that our concern isn't the matches themselves (because one kid on either side of a tennis court is PLENTY of distance to lower risks) but all the drills, team huddles, and just general times when sweaty athletes breathe hard near each other. You'll never guess what answer he got. "Tennis doesn't start until July 6, and the governor says that everything goes back to normal July 4." Mike: "So there's no plan then?" At that, all 15 of the people there turned to stare at him. And not in a friendly way. The lady sarcastically told him, "Well, we can't keep the kids from touching the same balls or anything like that."

It's pretty much a perfect encapsulation of how things feel to us now. We feel like we're the only holdouts still worrying about the virus, while everyone around us is carrying on as normal, having parties, doing sports leagues, going on vacation, flying on airplanes, planning cruises (for god's sake!), interacting in large groups, and just generally acting like there's no longer a pandemic killing around 800 people per day in America. And not just that, but actively being upset and/or disappointed in us for not going along with it. Listen, I love my siblings, and I admire the hell out of my brother for being a frontline healthcare worker. But we can't be around him because his exposure level is much greater than our risk tolerance. I love my baby sister, and I want her to do the things she is comfortable doing, but if she plans to go on a cruise right before Christmas, we won't be with her to celebrate the holiday because that's way too much risk of exposure for us. Same with everyone else. Johnny and Erin are going on vacation to Florida soon, and cool, that's within their risk tolerance, so I wish them well. Godspeed. But that means we will have to continue to distance from them. That's just the way it goes. We don't expect anyone to change their plans or preferred activities in deference to us, but we DO expect people to respect that our assessment of the risks is much different than theirs.

Which brings me back around to that 37 percent figure. I am terrified of Liam playing tennis. I'm doing my best to balance his real love of playing tennis against my fear of exposure, but when I hear that 37 percent of new local cases are kids who then end up infecting their families, it's hard to square that. And I don't know what the school year will look like either, or how we can mitigate those risks, or if there is any way to stay safe.

People think I'm overreacting, but look, I've been a fat person in America my whole life. I've been a fat adult in this health system for 27 years and counting, and I know firsthand that medical bias against fat people is real. I know exactly what it's like to contract a lung infection and, when it didn't heal quickly enough (even though pleurisy is pretty much characterized by slow healing), to have the doctor tell me that the real problem was that my fat was crushing my lungs and that I should get some exercise and everything would be fine. I know what it's like to explain to that doctor that I had just trained for and ridden a 30-mile bike event the week before I developed the infection, and to have the doctor respond that I must be lying, and that I was definitely noncompliant and that he just couldn't help me. I know exactly what it's like to have a hernia bulging out of my midsection, and have the surgeon talk directly to my husband instead of to me as he explained that the real treatment I should get is not a hernia repair but bariatric surgery. I know what it's like to then have that surgeon refer me to a bariatric surgeon "because they're used to dealing with bodies like yours" and to have him also decline to fix the hernia because my weight might increase my risk of the repair failing by 3 to 5 percent (not a typo, 3 to 5 percent) over the risk of repair failure for a thin person getting the same surgery. That doctor also offered to do bariatric surgery, or to put me on a liquid diet of 600 calories per day until I lost enough weight so he would be comfortable fixing me. Nevermind what would happen after I lost the weight, had the surgery, and starting eating solid food again.

So let's be real: If I get COVID-19 and have to go to the hospital, it is highly likely that I will not be treated like Holli, human being, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, editor, writer, lover of books and birds and parks. I will be treated as a risk. A complication. A comorbidity. A person who should just lose some weight and then everything will magically be better. A person who will be the lowest priority if there is a ventilator shortage because other people have much better chances of recovery. A person who might be worth fixing if only she were thinner. What do you think my chances are of getting quality health care in this system? Are they higher than my chances of never coming back home to my children and my spouse? Would you roll those dice in my shoes?

Tell me: Is it worth the risk? But what if the event is outdoors? But what if people promise they're not infected? But what if the damned governor says everything is safe again even as 500 new infections happen across the state every day? But what if, what if, what if.

For me, the answers are easy: No. No. No. And definitely no. And everyone else is just going to have to live with that, because my primary goal in life is to see my children through to adulthood, and I won't risk that for a cookout, a vacation, a family party, or anything else.

Nationwide cases: 2,127,745. Deaths: 116,700.

relevant to my interests

Turns out Americans have a history of taking down statues of oppressors. From the New York Times:

His Majesty’s protuberant eyes were fixed cruelly on his New York subjects. His voluptuous lips were set in steely resolve. Towering on a marble base above the Bowling Green, the gilded equestrian statue of King George III evoked a Roman emperor. With right arm upraised over the heads of the rabble, his message to a colony in revolutionary turmoil was plain enough: Don’t even think about it. 

On July 9, 1776, however, after hearing the newly adopted Declaration of Independence publicly proclaimed, 40 American soldiers and sailors under the command of Capt. Oliver Brown stole down to the Bowling Green in Lower Manhattan under cover of night. They lashed ropes around the statue, pulled until their ropes broke and then pulled again. At last, the symbol of a detested monarchy lay in pieces on the ground. Pieces of precious lead. 

“His statue here has been pulled down to make musket ball of, so that his troops will probably have melted Majesty fired at them,” Ebenezer Hazard, the New York postmaster, wrote to Gen. Horatio Gates. 

Reduced to 42,088 musket balls, a pedestal and a few barely recognizable scraps, the statue all but disappeared. 

And lookit, here's a painting from the New York Historical Society that documents the day:

And an engraving based on the painting!

covid diary: day 96

On March 7, 1965, peaceful protesters led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. began a 54-mile march from Selma, Alabama, to the state's capital, Montgomery. There were 600 people marching after the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson, a civil rights activist and deacon in the Baptist church, who was shot to death by a state trooper as he tried to protect his mother during a civil rights demonstration. On March 7, the marchers reached the outskirts of Selma and crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where they were met by state troopers, who refused to speak to the protesters and instead began attacking them. Here's how the History Channel describes it:

[State troopers] knocked the marchers to the ground. They struck them with sticks. Clouds of tear gas mixed with the screams of terrified marchers and the cheers of reveling bystanders. Deputies on horseback charged ahead and chased the gasping men, women and children back over the bridge as they swung clubs, whips and rubber tubing wrapped in barbed wire. Although forced back, the protesters did not fight back.

Millions of people watched this attack on live TV (after ABC interrupted a showing of "Judgment at Nuremberg," a movie about Nazi bigotry and atrocities), and it proved to be a turning point in getting the Voting Rights Act passed. Of note, the conservative Supreme Court recently gutted the protections enshrined in the Voting Rights Act, saying they weren't needed anymore since racism is over or whatever, and that's one major reason we have the voting nightmare we do now. It's by design, and SCOTUS gutted the oversight that could have mitigated this.

The bridge itself still stands, and is now a National Historic Landmark. But let's take a look at the name it bears: Edmund Pettus. Who was he? Well, a white guy, of course (it *is* Alabama). Pettus was a Confederate general during the U.S. Civil War. He was a leader in the Alabama KKK. He even became the Grand Dragon of the Alabama Klan in the final year of Reconstruction. At age 75, after a full life of racist "heroism," he was elected to the U.S. Senate, where he served until he died in the middle of his second term. And in May 1940, decades after his death, Selma dedicated the bridge in honor of this man. Why might they do that? Well, let's ask some historians interviewed by Smithsonian Magazine:

At the time, Selma “would’ve been a place where place names were about [black people’s] degradation,” says Alabama historian Wayne Flynt. “It’s a sort of in-your-face reminder of who runs this place.”

In the program book commemorating the [May 1940] dedication, Pettus is recalled as “a great Alabamian.” Of the occasion, it was written, “And so today the name of Edmund Winston Pettus rises again with this great bridge to serve Selma, Dallas County Alabama and one of the nation’s great highways.”  

So even as the bridge opened as a symbol of pride for a battered South still rebuilding decades after the Civil War, it was also a tangible link to the state’s long history of enslaving and terrorizing its black inhabitants.  

“The bridge was named for him, in part, to memorialize his history, of restraining and imprisoning African-Americans in their quest for freedom after the Civil War,” says University of Alabama history professor John Giggie. 

Seems pretty clear to me why they named it the way they did.

This is John Lewis.

But back to the march in 1965. Along with Dr. King and various notable figures, marching that day was 25-year-old John Lewis, chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). When the police attacked, Lewis was at the front of the march, and he was beaten savagely by a policeman wielding a baton. The officer hit him at least twice in the head, causing a skull fracture and nearly killing Lewis.

Yes, that's John Lewis in the foreground
being beaten by the police.

John Lewis went on to become a congressman; he has represented Georgia since 1986. He's often called the "conscience of the U.S. Congress." He has worked tirelessly for equality and justice, and he's revered as a civil rights leader. In December 2019, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, but in March of this year, he still came to commemorate the 55th anniversary of the march in Selma. He spoke eloquently to the crowd:

Fifty-five years ago, a few of our children attempted to march ... across this bridge. We were beaten, we were tear-gassed. I thought I was going to die on this bridge. But somehow and some way, God almighty helped me here. ... We must go out and vote like we never, ever voted before. ... I'm not going to give up. I'm not going to give in. We're going to continue to fight. We need your prayers now more than ever before. We must use the vote as a nonviolent instrument or tool to redeem the soul of America. ... To each and every one of you, especially you young people. ... Go out there, speak up, speak out. Get in the way. Get in good trouble. Necessary trouble, and help redeem the soul of America.

So you tell me: What name should this bridge bear? Should we commemorate the glorified history of racist violence, subjugation, greed, and ownership of people? Or should we honor the life's work of a man who has worked tirelessly and peacefully for equality, despite having nearly lost his life to the cause? To me, it's not even a hard question. The bridge should be renamed, all the military bases that bear the names of Confederate generals should be renamed, and all the racist statues designed to intimidate should be taken down and replaced with monuments to the history of bravery shown by Americans throughout history fighting for justice and equality. Give me statues of Harriet Tubman. Give me statues of the black and brown men who have fought in every single war this country has engaged in, yet never seem to get the credit of their white brethren. Give me statues of black Civil War heroes. Give me statues of John Lewis.

covid diary: day 93

He lost his head.

All right, let's talk about those Confederate statues.

All over the country, protesters have been tearing down statues of Confederate generals/heroes/figures. They've also been tearing down (or, in the case of Boston, beheading) statues of Christopher Columbus. Let's take Columbus first, because that one's easy: We. Should. Not. Venerate. Christopher. Columbus. He did not "discover" the Americas. They were already here. There were already people living on both continents, with fully developed cultures and societies. Who discovered what now? Also, Columbus was a complete and utter monster. He ordered the native people to each bring him a quantity of gold every three months, and then he ordered his men to cut the hands off anyone who failed to find enough gold. He was responsible for genocide and slave trades and sex trafficking and mass rape. We should not honor him with statues, or a holiday, or even by remembering his name.

Which brings me to the Confederate statues. According to the Southern Poverty Law Center, there are some 700 (!!!) Confederate monuments in 31 states plus Washington, DC. There were 11 states in the Confederate States of America, so what's with the other 20 and DC? Easy: racism.

Yo, "the boys who wore the gray" were deliberately
perpetuating and enshrining a racist nation.

The vast majority of these monuments were built between the 1890s and the 1950s, well after the end of the Civil War but in the midst of segregation. Jim Crow laws. Black people trying to vote and work and live their lives as equal to white people. There were two huge spikes of monument building, one in the early 1900s and the other in the 1950s and 1960s. So just after Reconstruction and again during the heart of the Civil Rights Movement. Coincidence? I think not. These monuments to white supremacy were meant to send a clear signal to black people. To venerate the men in charge of their subjugation. To make sure that everyone knew that whites were superior and always would be. To make sure that black people understood that the laws were and always would be created and enforced by white people, and that those laws would ever be designed to advantage white people.

Truer words were never written.

These men were not heroes. They were traitors to their country and (importantly to them and to many modern-day racists) to the god they claim to worship. They were slavers. They were the perpetrators of generations of violence, rape, forced marriage, extreme physical abuse, separation of families, and the buying and selling of people. They should not be honored, just like the men who perpetrated the Holocaust in Germany should not be honored. We should understand what they did, and work to create a system that's designed to advantage the people who need it most, rather than to keep the current power structure.

According to the demonstrators, he "tripped and
fell into the river."

I applaud the protesters tearing these statues down across the country, and even around the world. In Bristol, UK, protesters tore down a statue of a slave trader and threw it in the river. The BBC reports that the statue was pulled out of the harbor and taken to a secure location, where the river mud was cleaned off of it. There are plans to eventually display it in a museum, just as it is today (but without the mud): complete with spray-paint and ropes tied around it. YES BRISTOL. (Other statues in the UK have also been removed, but this one caught my interest.)

And listen, you don't have to believe my little history lesson. Look it up for yourself. Maybe start with the History Channel. Or NPR. Read all about it. I hope you do, because then you'll understand why this MUST change. I hope they're all smashed to pieces and used to line people's driveways or something.

Nationwide cases: 2,036,429. Deaths: 114,195.

covid diary: day 92

It was a picture-perfect day outside. I spent the day working, and Mike spent the day working on my car. (I am SO grateful that he is mechanically inclined!) He replaced my brakes and rotors, and he fixed this annoying rattle that's been plaguing us for years (if you care about the details, it's a common Odyssey problem where the heat shields start to rust and then they come loose and start rattling; Mike found a way to clamp them down).

I was thinking that today I would write about the statues of Confederate generals and genocidal "explorers" that have been forcefully taken down by protesters all over the country, but then my boss emailed me with a last-minute request to work a shift tonight, and I can't pass up any hours right now, no matter if I'm tired, so that will have to wait for another day. Here's my executive summary: Take them all down. Smash them to pieces. Stop glorifying terrible men as a way to keep black people in a constant state of fear and intimidation. Just stop.

Nationwide cases: 2,023,347. Deaths: 113,820.

covid diary: day 91

Just a perfectly normal radar image showing a tropical

storm making landfall in Michigan after crossing 

Lake Superior. Just like you see every year at this time. Sure.

Yesterday was primary day in a few states, and mostly it went smoothly, with one glaring exception: Georgia. If you'll recall, in 2018, the last election Georgia had, the Republican secretary of state, Brian Kemp, was running for governor while simultaneously overseeing the election. He refused to recuse himself, which is bad enough, but he also ensured his own victory by removing hundreds of thousands of names from the voter rolls. And I'm not exaggerating that number: it was at least 340,000. And those are just the ones that were improperly purged; another 200,000 or so were properly purged. Also he blocked the registration of more than 50,000 new voters that year. You'll never, ever, ever guess what most of those voters had in common. (If you guessed that most of them are not white, you are correct.) Ugly story short, this bullshit worked, and Kemp was sworn in as governor. I refuse to say he won, and Stacey Abrams, the Democrat in the race, never conceded either, because she also knew it was bullshit.

Anyway. 2020 is a new year, right? We're living in the future now. But because of the utterly terrible way the 2018 Georgia election was conducted, courts ordered Georgia to get new voting machines. The contract went to a politically connected (by which I mean connected to Brian Kemp) firm, and the rollout of the new system has been an unmitigated disaster (by design). People were waiting in line for hours and hours, many polling places were closed entirely, others didn't have any (!!!!) voting machines or paper ballots. The last voter in the state cast a ballot at 12:37 a.m., technically not even Election Day anymore. That's 5 hours and 37 minutes after the polls officially closed. And as you may know, you have to be in line before poll closing and stay in line in order to get your vote counted. So that person was there, standing in line, for AT LEAST 5 hours and 38 minutes. Here's today's front page of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Yep, just a normal day in America.

This kind of chaos isn't new (see the Wisconsin primary), and it's 100% designed to suppress turnout to advantage Republicans. There is absolutely no doubt. But these true patriots were determined to have their voices heard, and I'm thankful for each and every one of them. So is Chef Jose Andres:

I will definitely be donating to help support that effort. Listen, we live in a red state, so we don't have to worry about a lot of this crap (because Republicans *want* Hoosiers to vote since they're largely conservative). Mike and I both voted by mail in the primary. It was so easy! And the only reason we can't have that on a national level is that Republicans know they can't win fairly, so they'll cheat their way to every advantage. And they'll keep a straight face as they claim the mantle of honor, patriotism, law, and order.

One last piece of news for today: Governor Holcomb just announced that as of Friday, Indiana will move into phase four of Racing to the Second Wave Back on Track Indiana. Two days early, you guys! Because we've done SO WELL at flattening the curve. Or something. Take comfort, Hoosiers! You are now allowed to have gatherings of up to 250 people, just in time for those June weddings! Restaurants can operate at 75 percent capacity! Bars, nightclubs, museums, zoos, and movie theaters can operate at 50 percent capacity! The all-important auto and bike racing venues can operate at 50 percent capacity! You can take your kids to the playground now because they're all REOPENING! And last but not least, get ready to LOSE SOME MONEY, because casinos are opening back up, baby!

Nationwide cases: 1,996,980. Deaths: 112,726.

covid diary: day 90

How does your garden grow?

So, it's been 90 days. Three months. Has anything really changed?

In terms of the pandemic, not really. New York went up, New York came down. Now other states are going up and up in terrifying ways (looking at you, Arizona). The big difference is that the federal government isn't even talking about it anymore. They just want to pretend like it's solved, a victory for them. Meanwhile, 2 million people in the United States have been infected with the virus, and 112,000 have died.

112,000 have died. In. Three. Months.

And that's not even taking into consideration the people who had severe cases but recovered. What long-term consequences will they have? Will they require continuing treatment? Nobody knows because this is so new.

And still I hear people say that most people recover, and the only ones who get really sick are the people with preexisting conditions. As if that's okay. Think about it. In my house alone, four out of the five of us have preexisting conditions that would put us at greater risk. That's right, four, so it's not just my fat ass who could get really sick. Liam has pretty bad allergies, as does Henry, and let's not forget that Henry was premature. He's a perfectly healthy 10-year-old now, but preexisting conditions don't go away. So the "preexisting people are the ones who get really sick" argument doesn't hold water for me, because that's *exactly* why we need to be extra careful: to protect people with risk factors that could lead to them getting really sick or even dying.

I know people who went on vacation last month, and I know people who are going on vacation this month. And I get it, people have different tolerance for risk for different activities, and they are well within their rights to go wherever and whenever they feel comfortable. But for me, that means we can't spend time with people who have a much higher risk tolerance than we do. We just can't. I've said it from the beginning, that even if we knew we wouldn't get super sick ourselves, it's not worth the risk of exposing the people we love. Or anyone else.

So in conclusion, if you want to go on vacation, or stop wearing a mask, or go to a party or a wedding or a funeral or even a protest, that's great! You do you. Be as safe as you can, have fun, and we'll see you ... sometime later. Outside. With lots of space between us.

Listen, going to the pool is terrifying enough, and I literally do not touch any surfaces there. I'm usually the only one in the pool, and as soon as I get out of the pool I put my mask on and get the heck out of there. It's probably the lowest risk/highest reward thing I can do, but I still worry every time.

And this afternoon, we expanded our risk horizons because the boys had dentist appointments for their six-month cleanings/checkups. Here's how that worked: We parked the car and I called to let them know we were here. Once they were ready for the boys, they called them into the office, where they had to wash their hands and get a temperature screening. I stayed out in the car. They called about 20 minutes after the boys went in to say that Max had a cavity* and to ask permission to just fill it right on the spot so we wouldn't have to make another trip in and risk further exposure (to us or to them). I agreed, so they did the filling. Liam and Henry had no cavities, so they came back out to the car when they were done, and we waited for Max to finish. I talked to the office about scheduling their next appointment, and they scheduled it and sent the reminder cards out with Max when he was finished.


*Noting because he is very sensitive about this: Max has gotten a cavity in each of his molars before it has even come in. It's not something he's doing wrong in terms of dental hygiene. The dentist doesn't know why it has happened, so that's just the way it is. Luckily I think he's almost done getting new teeth.

Nationwide cases: 1,979,813. Deaths: 112, 006.