Cloister Commentary, Day 23: Sound and Vision

We, like you, have stumbled upon (or been forced to observe, rather) several habits in this sheltering that I think we’re going to keep when we are liberated. Nicole is a great cook, but she also works her butt off AND we both are tasteaholics who love supporting our many local restaurants, so we haven’t ever eaten in all that much. However, by my calculations, we’ve only gone out to pick up food once in the last 27 days. I’m here to tell you: homecooking is great. Yesterday, she sautéed some fresh asparagus, fried some new potatoes, and grilled some cheese sandwiches (with, instead of butter, Blue Plate Mayonnaise)–that was just lunch. Dinner was chickpea tikka masala with basmati rice! Now, I don’t just sit around like Henry VIII, fork and knife in fists that pound the tabletop! Our deal has always been that she can make as big a mess in the kitchen as she wants; I’ll clean up and put up everything. Feels about even, but I know I get the best of it–plus I’ve lost weight while never feeling unsatisfied. Ok, I’ll stop…

This was our first “flipped house” of the plague. That’s when the feline-o-phobe dog and I go downstairs and the cats come up. So it was “Music in the Man Cave” for me.

I loved“Fame,” “Golden Years,” and (especially) “Young Americans” (that song tortured me) as a teen, and“Let’s Dance”always kicked ass no matter HOW many times I heard it lifeguarding that summer in Monett, but I was never a massive Bowie fan at the time. However, reading’s always been a corrective to my waywardness, and after taking in David Bowie: A Life (by former Ziggy crumbsnatcher Dylan Jones), Rob Sheffield’s On Bowie, and Sasha Geffen’s Glitter Up the Dark: How Pop Music Broke the Binary, I’m fully on board. Better late than never. I listened to his work alllll afternoon. And hit up Discogs for some CDs I surprisingly don’t have.

Speaking of music and habits, I recently hit my Apple Music limit of 100,000 songs in the ol’ iCloud library. So I just blew the whole thing up and started anew. I need to remember to only “Add” what I need, and that the entire contents of my external drive don’t have to be (can’t be) in my library, too. #nerdalert

Random facts of COVID-19 impact: 1) My garage door opener fixed itself on its own after I ignored it for two weeks. Word to the wise looking to save money. 2) We decided to cancel our lodging in Lawrence in late June for theFree State Fest(this year, John Waters and Boots Riley were among those scheduled). It ain’t gonna happen, we’re fairly sure. And if it does, we won’t be inclined to attend.

I’m not religious, but happy Easter anyway. He not busy being (re)born is busy dying.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Such sound and vision.

Cloister Commentary, Day 22: Grasshopper

As I mentioned yesterday, I videoconferenced with the two Mizzou teacher interns I am supervising this year. Their student teaching journey was abruptly truncated by COVID-19–they are still assisting their as they are able with grading and virtual lessons–so we discussed the possibilities they’d encounter next fall: content challenges and limitations, stressed students with fragile economic support, explaining what is happening right now in the context of their instruction, isolation (if teachers can’t yet work in person in the fall). The potential environment is daunting, and I do not envy them. I usually let them do the talking, but I did offer them each these words of advice: try to find a crusty old veteran who still has ahold of their joy and sidle into a “grasshopper” role. Nothing helped me get my footing better; it’s not that I avoided my fellow greenhorns, but “the older guys know what it’s all about,” as someone once sang. They helped me dodge several potholes–right, Bob Bilyeu?

Nicole and I started some new shows: HBO’s adaptation of Richard Russo’s novel Empire Falls, which I just finished reading; Netflix’s The Stranger, recommended by our go-to Anglo-American TV critic Susan McDermott-Griggs; and another Netflix item, Self-Made, an impressive limited series tracing the life of Madame CJ Walker, who’s played by the always-great Octavia Spencer. It’s got fire, spunk, wit, and a surprising style and soundtrack–plus Tiffany Haddish, who threatens to steal every scene she’s in.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Sample an early ’80s album by Nina Simone that was just reissued and might even surprise big fans if they haven’t heard it.

And: if you want to sample Self-Made‘s soundtrack?

Cloister Commentary, Day 21: Blithely

I am writing these to a) share how Nicole and I are making our way through this crisis, and b) keep a record of our journey so we can look back when we have better perspective. Sometimes, though, when I re-read them, I’m dumbstruck by the good fortune that allows me to move about securely and comfortably in my home environment, and I feel a pulse of self-loathing that just makes me want to stop writing.

But–no matter how blithely I may seem to move through my days, I’m all too aware that we were in trouble before COVID-19, we’re unbelievably vulnerable now, and we’re surrounded by many (who happen to have access to the buttons, levers, and strings) who have only scorn for vulnerability. So…one can carry that around all day, into the night, and as dawn breaks. Frequently, I can’t turn my projective mind off; I do stay (and have stayed) well-informed, and that information constantly feeds the projector. Today, I video-conference with the two student teachers I supervise, and I know I won’t be able to help from asking them to project what their teaching environments will be like in the fall, and how they hope to respond to their students who’ve been hit the hardest.

I am so grateful for the books, music, laughs and love that allow me to be distracted meaningfully and healthily from these concerns. If it does seem I’m responding too blithely to our troubles, perhaps I am, but a quickened heartbeat has been disrupting my sleep.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Maybe we need to talk to the spirits.

Cloister Commentary, Day 20: Beet Box Bounty

I had hoped to vote for Bernie again in the general election, but no. As Nicole told me yesterday, if we can all be and think more like Bernie, the country will be better off if anything like THIS happens again. As my friend Ken wrote recently, an economy where folks don’t have to work multiple jobs and more than 40 hours a week to survive, and a health care system that’s inexpensive and accessible to all are both reasonable requests of the wealthiest nation in history.

We went out to eat for the first time in over three weeks yesterday. I love my wife’s cooking, we’ve been eating smarter, and is it easier on the wallet! But our restaurants need patrons to survive, and we have some damned good ones in town. We chose Beet Box, called in our order (two falafel sandwiches and an order of Za’atar fries), carefully picked it up, returned home, plated the food and tossed the containers, sanitized the table and our hands, microwaved the plates for 30 seconds, and dug in. WOW!!! I have plugged this restaurant here before, but I have never eaten a falafel sandwich so good, and I’ve eaten many. Co-owner Benjamin Hamrah, as hardworking, talented, and ebullient a person as I know, has got something great going–think about supporting Beet Box. (The process above may seem laborious–and that’s a truncated version–but we believe it’s safe. It is also intense, which is why we always have a drink afterward!)

A tiny detail of my new normal: no matter what time of day it is or where I am in the house, I have a laser pointer in my pocket. #catkingdom

Three joys of the day: our front yard trees, bushes, and flowers popping out, an early evening breeze and sunshine combo, and a Zoom double-date configured (what a word!) with our friends Vance and Liz Downing.

Some relevant photos:

Streaming for shut-ins:

If you need to get up and move (and you do), here.

Cloister Commentary, Day 19: Please Don’t Bury Me

This stuff can kill us, is killing us at a very rapid rate. If it doesn’t, something else will, we are assured. It’s just that we’re getting reminders at a rapid rate, too, from thousands we do not know to the few who we imagined could live forever (they may, through their work) but understood could not, like that old crust John Prine. I’d like to recommend his work to those unfamiliar with it, because it has the soul nutrition we need to put these days in perspective. Take, for example, the mortality song I have shared below, which he wrote before he turned 30. A grinning, shrugging, generous acceptance–and an invitation to kiss his ass goodbye.

In other news, Nicole and I moved the lawn furniture out into the backyard and onto the deck. That was a simple action that made us both feel good, and gave our external felines Goldpaw and BB hope for more strokes than usual. I actually executed a decent Zoom class–I just said eff it and used my phone–and participated in two other video sessions, with some Stephens folks (having to lean on it more heavily than this part-timer, they’re tiring of it but are digging in) and my parents, to whom I told the vanilla-ice-cream-loving penguin joke (this time). I tried to tell it to the fabulous furry Frissell brothers, George and Lee, via text–in short bursts to match the timing necessary if we had been together in person–but Lee let me get all the way to the verge of the Paragraph Four punch line before he inserted it himself (George had told it to him long ago). Never trust a Texan. I won’t tell you the one he told me, a COVID-19 joke worthy of Ken Weaver’s immortal but scarce Texas Crude.

Short, contained note: it’s all I can do to keep from screaming at our judicial, executive, representative, and military leadership right now, but fortunately, Mike, I tucked away The Inchiridion the other day and found the necessary restraint. I suspect you may have returned to it in recent hours. Your leadership deserves no screams, only praise.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

I like to offer full albums, but this single song is a must for the moment.

Cloister Commentary, Day 18: Escape to Reality

If you’ve not read Richard Russo, I strongly recommend you do. Known best, perhaps, for the novels Empire Falls (which I’m currently reading) and Nobody’s Fool, he is expert at chronicling small town life in our modern world and–especially–capturing the subtleties of human interaction. Very, very funny, observant, and wise, his work is an excellent opportunity for the reader to, for change, escape back INTO face-to-face community.

You will not surprised that we are trying our best to support book and music stores remotely. We received a package yesterday from Lafayette’s fantastic, big-hearted Lagniappe Records, which specializes in items from the deep well of Louisiana sounds. Check ’em out on IG–you may find yourself helpless to order.

Wasn’t that a classic “Better Call Saul” episode? (This link includes spoilers.)

Our dog Louis is currently plagued by something around his butt area that I don’t want to look at closely (even if I could–it’s obscured by fur), so he wears a small donut collar during the day, then a bigger Elizabethan collar at night (because he’s figured out a way to get around the donut when we’re asleep). It seems too minor to bother our vet about, but he’s damn restless, so I’m sleeping out in the living room with him, where his “nook” causes him to calm down. The things we do for love…

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Speaking of Louisiana music? A full album of it for you (full of rhythm and hijinks, that is).

Cloister Commentary, Day 17: Everybody Disco!

Work: Nicole made delicious buttermilk biscuits out of Southern Living as well as some spicy hummus. I put together an order for us from Powell’s Books (is that work?) and drifted into a project I had not planned: moving these over to one of my blogs to improve their readability.

Play: When I came up from the man cave after finishing said project, Nicole was playing disco songs from her computer. Without really discussing it, we switched the sound over to the stereo, turned it up, and danced until we got tired–about 15 minutes, probably, but it seemed longer, and that’s a positive statement.

We didn’t even shut the blinds, so any neighbor watching got to see me mincing like ’70s Jagger (scolding, pointing, wrists on hips) and helplessly gyrating. Partial playlist: three Hot Chocolates (“Emma,” “Every 1’s a Winner,” “You Sexy Thing”), Chic’s “Real People” (the greatest song of all-time), Bowie’s “Let’s Dance”–I forgot how great that one is!–two “Last Dance”s (George Clinton’s answer to Bowie, and Donna Summer’s), James Brown’s “Super Bad, Parts 1, 2, and 3,” Sylvester’s “Mighty Real,” Maxine Nightingale’s “Right Back to Where We Started From,” and Trammps’ “Disco Inferno.” Those are the ones I remember, as cognac Old Fashioneds were involved. But it was the definite highlight of the day. You should try it!

Disco did not and does not suck, even though I was once kicked out of high school for an afternoon for hypocritically wearing a t-shirt that said as much. At the time, I was regularly crossing state lines to dance under the glitter ball in Columbus, Kansas, and that shirt was tight and black, with the offensive message decorated in glitter and colored pink and green.

We made contact with Planet Earth again with “Call the Midwife”, which we never miss. You shouldn’t, either.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Cloister Commentary, Day 13: Shut Down

The world of Columbia Public Schools’ faculty, staff, and students was shook yesterday when a three-day pause was announced in proceedings, for the purpose of re-evaluating and re-thinking the system’s response to COVID-19. While that pause is likely a good thing–this is unprecedented, and our state government is still dragging its heels in its response–it might have been, for many, the first serious reverberation of the crisis’ impact. Nicole, who has been working very hard from home and keeping in close contact with her students and comrades, definitely is feeling it, I know all parents and kids are, and though I only interact with CPS as a mentor and student teacher supervisor, it shook me, too.

Thanks to a break in the weather, we’ve walked to Parkade Park and back three consecutive days, and every day we’ve at least said hi to a different neighbor. The year’s first “yardening” has begun! The unspoken mantra on our block: “Don’t be the last to mow your lawn!” We’re lucky: Deven and LaVere Lawn and Landscaping have had our backs since they went into business.

Some local happenings worth supporting: our excellent ward councilman Mike Trapp and his brother have created a shelter project for folks who are outside, and Broadway Diner is STILL feeding any hungry kid on a daily basis. We are donating, and if you can, you might think about it. See links in my comments below.

Anyone else having trouble sleeping a decent number of hours? We normally get up early, but either our dog or the buzzing of our inner wiring has been limiting us to less than six hours a night.

I generally dislike fruit, but I need a banana a day. Oddly, that little quirk is really my only obstacle to staying away from the grocery for a couple weeks at a time. I’m learning to live without.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Cloister Commentary, Day 14: Dr. Benway, Meet Dr. Praeger

Made our second successful foray to the grocery store. Again, I stayed in the car, so I only heard about it. Nicole found some pretty amazing veggie burgers made from mushrooms and risotto. They were created in a lab by a Dr. Praeger.

DrPraegers-VeggieBurgers-MushroomRisotto

FaceTimed with my parents and told them the “welding mask” joke, Ed Hamell. As expected, it was followed by three beats of stunned silence. Next time: the penguin joke.

Listened to two vintage recordings by the late Ellis Marsalis, who did not leave behind many. Another musician snatched by the Coronavirus.

Cleaned out a filing cabinet and found a pristine copy of the Columbia Tribune from the day Pierced Arrows made the front page.

While reading Richard Russo’s EMPIRE FALLS, I realized, considering the world through the eyes of the 42-year-old protagonist and identifying with him, that I was thinking I was his age. I’m 58. Had to make some adjustments, needless to say.

Acknowledged that Kleenex needs to be close at hand if we’re going to keep watching the national news at 5:30. But I have to say Lester Holt, with his intense gaze, meaningful pauses, and respect and concern for all, keeps me coming back.

Conjured this analogy: OZARK is to BREAKING BAD as John Popper is to Paul Butterfield.

Streaming for Shut-Ins:

Cloister Commentary, Day 15: Your Trash Ain’t Nuthin’ But Trash

We have been worried to death about the nation’s health care workers, small business owners, mail carriers and kids–but I’ve heard little talk about sanitation workers. They’ve had some local struggles here in the best of times, but these have to be exceptionally trying. We need to do our best to make their jobs as easy as possible, and not just sling our trash sloppily to the curb.

I’ve written before about how live music on social media is helping everyone stay sane. I watched this and I was motivated the rest of the day.

I had never been to a virtual happy hour until yesterday, when I was a fly on the wall at a gathering of Columbia Area Career Center folks. I apologize for not being more camera conscious and eating chips and dip right in everyone’s face.

My parents’ order of Chinese toilet paper arrived yesterday. It was not quite what they expected; in my mom’s words, “It doesn’t have the hole for the roll. Dad said it is 3-ply.”

Chinese Toilet Paper

Sometimes you just need to blow out the cobwebs. We chose to have a date-night DVD double-header, and watched LOST IN AMERICA and THE ARISTOCRATS. We feel a little more relaxed this morning.

Streaming for Shut-Ins: a great unsung jazz album from the Sixties, featuring alto saxophone Sonny Criss a West Coast take on East Coast “cool” by songwriter and arranger Horace Tapscott.