On masks

When you wear a mask, you're saying, "I love you.  I care about you." When you don't, including Trump, you're saying, "Fuck you."   

Amazing x 2

   One good thing about the quarantine, with apologies to the Hollywood studios and the movie theaters that are struggling to say the least, is the movies that are coming out online, that we can watch at home. Every Saturday (and a few Friday) night for a while now, I’ve been turning on Netflix or Prime and, from the comfort of my bed, watching some good stuff. I could get used to this (which is surely one reason why the studios and theaters are freaking out)! 

   This past Saturday was no exception, to say the least, after Netflix released Spike Lee’s new opus, Da 5 Guys, on Friday. 

   Lee has made a steady stream of good to excellent and provocative films in the last 30 years or so, and Da 5 Guys is, simply put, amazing.  It’s one of his best and could well be argued to be his best.  It’s at least as great as Do the Right Thing.  Or it will be at least looked back on like we now look back on Do the Right Thing. 

   Da 5 Guys is about 5 Black Vietnam War vets who return to Vietnam to find the body of a fallen comrade and a buried cache of gold bars, and not one minute of its two-and-a-half hours running time drags.  In addition to an engaging, exciting, sometimes tense and thrilling story, Lee packs in loads of commentary and ideas, including some brutal jabs at Trump, and references dozens of movies from Apocolypse Now to Treasure of the Sierra Madre and all sorts of others in between. 

   A couple other notes: It’s way early to be making award predictions, but there will probably be talk about not only hopefully the movie and Lee but also Del Lindo, who plays the volatile, troubled vet who, much to the other’s surprise, voted for and plans to again vote for Trump and unapologetically wears a red MAGA cap (watch out for the very funny commentary that Lee sneaks in). I should also say that there are violent, bloody scenes – not only obviously the combat depictions – not for the feint of heart. 

   Another amazing thing is that this film, with its story about and commenting on Black men having fought for a country in which they’re still struggling to get opportunity and respect, is coming out during this time of massive uprising for racial equality and more civil rights and against police brutality and injustice that particularly affects African-Americans, as well as other minorities.  It’s as if Lee knew months ago that this would all be going down now. 

   Like I said, amazing.       

Worried sick

   I don’t get it. 

   None of this pandemic business makes sense anymore.  And for someone like me, who doesn’t want to end up in the hospital in my situation, this is more than a weird or funny mix-up.  This is life or sometimes death – for us all, not just me. 

   On the one hand, everything is opening up, with business going back to as usual or close to as usual, even here in California, which had especially strict shelter-in-place rules, or in New York, which had very high infection and death rates before its own very strict shelter-in-place order.  There are stories about people eating at restaurants, movie theaters opening and all that. 

   Whether or not this makes sense and social distancing, disinfecting, mask-wearing, etc, is followed – will it be, really? – this is all about money, getting the economy going again.  But there is also talk of kids going back to school in a couple months.  Really?  Perhaps college students and maybe high school students will sit six feet apart, but will first and second graders?  And won’t they fiddle with their masks all day? 

   On the other hand, it is said, sometimes in headlines but usually buried in stories, that there will be another wave of the coronavirus, in the next month, in the Fall, and that it will be worse. 

   You think?  Especially with people eating in restaurants and whatnot.  What’s more, I have seen medical experts interviewed saying that children shouldn’t, can’t, go back to school until there’s a vaccine – next year at the earliest. But that’s not talked about.  It’s too hard. 

   And then there was the police murder of George Floyd the subsequent civil unrest, with thousands of folks protesting, passionate and close to each other.  Things are better now that the protests are pretty much peaceful, without all the jostling and close, dangerous encounters to say the least, and perhaps most folks are wearing masks (the ones that say “I can’t breathe” are especially ingenious), but forget about social distancing. This is a big concern, even though the protests, yes, have lead to some remarkable changes – overhauling of a few police departments, vows to or talk of implement real police reform – that will hopefully be sweeping and lasting (I’d hate to think that this massive – the largest ever? – and dangerous civil rights uprising is for naught).  

   As one friend said when all the protesting began and especially when there was rioting and looting, the virus is gone.  Not only in the way people were acting but also in the news. 

   There are already more COVID-19 cases, at least here in Los Angeles County.  Does this mean there will be shut-down?  I don’t know.  I really don’t know anymore.  You’d think things will slow or shut down if cases rise, but it seems that making money, getting the economy going, is all-important. 

   But should there be an economy – can there be an economy – when so many people are getting sick, when so many are dying?    

   You see what I mean?  I don’t get it, and, what’s worse, I don’t know if it’s safe, or if I’m safe, anymore.

Pandemic punishment

   “Lack of coverage has forced Marrs to forgo asthma inhalers and dental work on a molar she said was broken in a domestic dispute.
   ‘I’ve been living on Orajel,’ she said.”
   It’s bad enough that last week was, seriously, one of the last weeks in this nation’s history.  On Wednesday, America reached a tragic milestone with 100, 000 COVID-19 deaths.  In addition, earlier in the week, George Floyd, an unarmed black man in Minneapolis was killed, murdered, when a white police officer pressed his knee against Floyd’s neck for almost 9 minutes as 3 of his fellow officers watched.  This lead to protests and then, tragically, sickeningly, destructive violence, still going on, all across the county, which with surely lead to another wave of coronavirus infections and more stay-at-home orders and economic hardships.  Also on Wednesday, Larry Kramer, the fiery AIDS activist who wrote the heart-wrenching, blistering The Normal Heart, died.  (It is poetically, sadly ironic that Kramer, whose ranting and railing helped get treatment for AIDS patients, died, although of different causes, during a pandemic and days of rioting.) There was also, as always, Trump and his way of not helping or making things worse, when he should be doing and we desperately need the opposite – but that goes without saying. 
   As if all this wasn’t enough, a knee to all our necks, the above quote from an article appearing in the Los Angeles Times a week ago makes clear that some states – red states - have made life even harder for some folks.  The article compares Texas, which chose not to expand Medicaid under Obamacare and which is where the unfortunate Ms.  Marrs lives, with California, known for generously expanding healthcare coverage.  This difference has become all the more stark during the pandemic, when having no medical insurance is even more dangerous. 
   From the Los Angeles Times article:
   “Texas became the epicenter of Republican resistance to the Affordable Care Act. State leaders blocked Medicaid expansion, leaving more than 750,000 low-income Texans without access to coverage. Even before the coronavirus outbreak, a quarter of working-age Texans lacked health insurance.
   “The state also refused to establish its own insurance marketplace and dropped quality-improvement initiatives funded by the healthcare law.
   “Today, Texas heads an effort by 19 GOP-led states and the Trump administration to get the Supreme Court to invalidate the whole law. That case has continued despite the mounting toll from the pandemic; the justices will consider it in the fall.”
   It’s hard not to feel like this is some sort of punishment for being poor, if not black or brown. It’s hard not to feel this isn’t a punishment for not pulling oneself up by one’s bootstraps, for not having bootstraps to pull oneself up with.  That’s what it sounds and feels like. 
   Here’s more from the article, quoting Ms.  Marrs about her life in Texas now that she is on her own after leaving her abusive husband:
   “’I had to decide if I was going to stay in a really bad situation to keep my insurance or leave for the sake of my safety and the safety of my kids, knowing I’d lose my insurance,’ she said.
   “’It’s crazy.’”

   There was also the sheriff of San Bernardino County, literally down the street less than a block away from my house, that I read about in the Los Angeles Times a month or two ago (I’m very sorry I couldn’t find the story in the useless search engine on the Times’ not-impressive website.) He had no sympathy for prisoners, for whom being in jail puts them in great danger of getting sick with the coronavirus.  When asked if non-violent prisoners should be released, as is happening in most counties at least here in California, the sheriff said “nope” and essentially said they should have thought about that when committing their crimes (never mind that there was no pandemic several months ago when most of the crimes were committed).

    “I don’t deserve to die,” said a prisoner in a unrelated story regarding being locked up in unhygienic, close quarters during this time of coronavirus.  Too bad.  Especially when the president labels the protesters “THUGS” and says, “When the looting starts, the shooting starts.”

The politics of mask-wearing

   Lately, after an unusually chilly early Spring here in sunny So. Cal. (at least for me now with my neuropathy), I have been venturing out on my own in my chair.  I have been delighting in these independent excursions around my neighborhood and a bit beyond (during the stay-at-home orders, we are allowed to go out for walks). But I have to say that, when I forget to have my mask put on when I go out, I feel naked.  And not in a good way. 

   Perhaps it’s weird that this is how I feel.  They say we are to wear mask to protect others, to not spread germs to others, not to protect ourselves.  Not only is it highly unlikely that I have the coronavirus, as isolated and careful as I’ve been, I do not encounter many people on my outings and do not get close to those I come across. 

   But, as superficial and shallow as it sounds, when I don’t wear a mask on my strolls, I feel I’m sending the wrong message (I can hear my dad saying I was making a statement in what I wore – usually overalls – and/or with my hair – shaved, long, braids, mohawk, dreads, whatnot). In short, and again at the risk of sounding shallow and superficial, I feel like, when I don’t wear a mask when out, I’m saying I support Trump, who never wears a mask when on television, and what he says. 

   This isn’t as ridiculous as it sounds.  The sad, crazy fact is that wearing a mask – or not wearing a mask – has, as with way too many things these days, become political.  Indeed, as my dad might say, wearing or not wearing a mask is now a statement. 

   It is reported that, in general, most Democrats wear a mask when out, and most Republicans don’t wear a mask, or don’t support wearing a mask, when out, perhaps following their leader’s example.  But this is apparently more than a simple red state/blue state thing. 

   It’s said that men are more unlikely to wear masks, likely thinking that it’s unmanly to do so.  (I have seen families out walking, with all but the father wearing a mask.) Furthermore, evangelical Christians are also reported as less supportive of mask-wearing, probably with the belief that their faith or God or Jesus will protect or save them. 

   I know. Wow. 

   When one thinks about how not wearing a mask is selfish, putting the rest of us in danger, perhaps mortal danger, and maybe causing the stay-at-home orders to go on for longer, some of this fits right in.  It makes sense that a macho man thinking he can tough it out or an evangelical Christian believing that Jesus will pull him/her through or a person like Trump, who is just out for himself, would think that wearing a mask is stupid, wrong, humiliating, even if it protects or saves others. This is pretty much the subliminal or not so subliminal message from those anti-stay-at-home protesters with their guns and confederate flags and anti-vaccine signs and even those gathering to have fun and a good time, despite all, in large crowds at the beaches. 

   As a liberal, gay man with a severe disability which may be an underlying condition making me more endangered by COVID-19, I don’t want to be a part of this.  I don’t want people thinking that I buy into this.  I want to be seen doing the right thing, really to encourage others to do the right thing.  I want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.  This in why I feel naked, in a bad, shameful way, when I find myself out without a mask. 

   Now, as for the mask that I wear, I am making a statement, as my dad would say, and I encourage others to do so as well. I currently wear a rainbow (gay pride) mask, and I’m trying to get other cool – colorful, perhaps tye-dye or batik) – masks.  If we have to wear masks, and we probably have to for a while, I figure, why not have fun with them?

Requiem for a sitcom

   I’m sad. 

   I recently finished the six seasons of Grace and Frankie on Netflix, and I’m sad that, from what I hear, there won’t be any more episodes. Really – I’m in mourning over a sitcom.  (Hey, this is a refreshing change from everything else there is to be sad about these days!)

   For a sitcom, Grace and Frankie is truly remarkable, very much worthy of being missed.  When I began watching this show about two older women, prim and proper Grace played by the great Jane Fonda and free-spirited Frankie played by the incomparable Lily Tomlin, who end up living and on ventures together after their long-time husbands, dressed-down Robert remarkably played by Martin Sheen and adventurous Sol played whole-heartedly by Sam Waterston, who are law partners and announce that they are gay and love each other, I thought it was fine enough, but it grew and grew on me as I watched episode after episode. 

   I think this was because this sitcom is truly remarkable – ground-breaking.  For one thing, its wonderful older characters are played by wonderful older actresses and actors (it’s particularly fun seeing Sheen playing a gay man – well – and, as I said, Tomlin is simply a delight).This alone is very unique.  And beside from these principle players, there’s a stunning line-up of older guest stars, including, but not only, Peter Gallagher, Michael McKean, Craig T. Nelson, Estelle Parsons and, all too briefly, the great, great Sam Elliot. 

   All these older actors and actresses are very capably supported by the actors and actresses who play the divorced couples’ adult children who intermingle in various, amusing ways.

   Another way that this sitcom is ground-breaking is the sensitive, smart and funny way it portrays gay men and being gay.  Robert and Sol are new to being gay, as old as they are, and, as they discover in amusing ways as the series goes on, there is more, so much more, to being gay than kissing and enjoying musicals. In one remarkable episode, Robert and Sol get married when Robert is in the hospital after having a heart attack and it’s not known if he’ll survive.

   All this happens in the beautiful, sunny San Diego area, including the wonderfully elegant yet funky beach house – I think it belonged to Frankie and Sol – where Frankie and Grace live and come up with their various ventures, including making vibrators for those who are older and arthritic or perhaps otherwise disabled – another ground-breaking feature, sex and the elderly and disabled.  Sure, there are ridiculous, non-sensible twists and turns, especially with Frankie, but, come on, this is a sitcom.  Overall, the series is amazingly adventurous and clear-eyed.  As with a day at the sunny beach, it is sad to have it be over.