370. Last of Just the Pandemic... I hope

 

Link to Table of Contents

Pandemic day to day

Day 183 - Had to run an errand to the P.O. so I stopped in at the Bank Cafe to buy an iced tea and to see if they have a schedule for returning to normal operations. No. Two of the regular Peet’s staff were behind the counter, which was nice to see. I noticed when doing my first of the month banking yesterday that I hadn’t used that debit card since March 15, 2020. And normally I use it four or five times per week.

Day 185 - 69 turns out to be one of those shocking birthdays. It isn’t 70, but it may as well be. Just when you had gotten used to the idea of being in your 60s now it’s going to get even worse. It doesn’t help that neither of my parents made it out of their 70s with all their faculties intact... or at all in one case. I can’t assume, as I always have in the past, that in ten years I will be roughly the same person I am today.

As it happened, today is laundry day -- not what I would have chosen, but sometimes you need clean laundry. Regardless I will do my usual 200+ pushups and 190 crunches and I’ll take my daily exercise walk -- though not the one that takes me to the top of Nob Hill three times, that was yesterday. So I’m doing what I can to stay “me.” 

I plan to hit my favorite restaurants later in the month, after the covid-19 vaccine has had time to be at full strength, but I am having some of my favorite dishes today -- even if I have to prepare them myself, which is not the same thing at all. Last birthday I was new to the pandemic routine and just ate what I had. (I checked, and I had Burmese, but not from my favorite Burmese place.)

Recently there have been a series of mass shootings which has everyone (people on the left) talking about meaningful gun reform. Background checks should be improved, but banning certain types of weapons and magazines is a bad idea. Not because these weapons are needed -- if it was up to me there would be no semi-automatic weapons in civilian hands -- but because a ban like that risks far more than it could ever help. 

The reality is that mass shootings kill fewer than 200 Americans a year. And keep in mind that most of America is happy with 1,000 covid deaths A DAY. Or at least they prefer that to taking the common sense steps that would easily stop the disease caused mass deaths. If they won’t wear masks, social distance, and stop traveling then asking them to give up either the guns they already have or give up the right to buy more weapons will be viewed as an existential threat. As stupid as that is. The risk of civil disorder is not worth saving maybe 100 lives a year.

Day 391 - This will be the last day of my “Shelter-In-Place” since my vaccination should reach full strength tomorrow. I’m still not sure how much difference this will really make, but I will be back on public transit (with a double mask) and trying to catch up on all the little things I’ve been putting off for over a year. I will also be eating out and, when I get food to go, I will be getting a meal at a time rather than trying to reduce exposure by getting 4-6 meals at once. Or at least that’s my expectation.

The virus -- and new mutations of the virus -- are still out there and people -- especially the young and the dumb -- continue to ignore the reasonable and easy steps people can take to stop the spread of the disease. We are currently in the fourth surge of cases in many parts of the country just as we should be reaching the end of the pandemic. Carpe Mortem... seize your unnecessary death while you still can.

For young people losing a year of their short lives seems intolerable. My Stoic view is rather different, but at the same time, and especially as I’ve just hit 69 and so am on the cusp of my 70s, I am aware that I’m “losing” what is probably one of the few good years I have remaining. Carpe Diem, indeed. 

While I have not hated this past year, in fact I’ve learned a good deal from it, I am also very ready to get out again and start doing things. So long as I can stay safe -- which the vaccine and the now normal safety measures should make possible. It has even occurred to me that riding the bus will be marginally more pleasant while wearing a mask. I will be sad to see that particular change revert to normal, if it in fact does.

Day 392 - Ate inside at one of my old favorite places for the first time in over a year. Almost like old times. Had to ask for the password as I have a new Chromebook now.

As it happens, this morning they “paused” J&J vaccinations because there have been a couple blood clot problems. As a result they are now talking about dropping the second shots of the other vaccines for a while to get more people basic protection. This is what I wanted to do but they wouldn’t let me. The advantage of waiting a couple months for the second dose is that there is time for upgrades to match new mutations of the virus.

On the other hand, that they are pausing the J&J because of only six problems out of the millions of doses given indicates that people have a poor grasp of statistics (shocking, I know) so they probably wouldn’t be happy with the marginally less protection with the single dose. You really can’t win.

I never come here, Village Pizzeria, in the late afternoon so I didn’t know that, at least at this time of year, there’s sun reflected off the relatively new building across the street giving me almost direct sun at my usual window table. Very nice. And, as always, only more so, there’s no one here so this continues to be the ideal place to eat and then work while sipping my iced tea. I’m back, Baby! This could be the best belated birthday present for this crazy year.

Also, they’ve moved the bus stops yet again so the outbound buses now stop in front of Village like they did originally. This, too, is temporary as they will be moving to the center of the street eventually. They’ve actually made considerable progress with the BRT infrastructure over the past year, but there’s still a way to go. And I still can’t see exactly how it will work.

Day 396 - It is so strange acting almost like before the pandemic. I’ve been on multiple buses every day. I’ve eaten inside places with my mask off. Aside from the double mask while on transit, it, especially on Muni, would be just like old times. Golden Gate Transit has removed seats and taped off every other row of seats. Muni just asks you to board at the rear so you don’t infect the operator. Muni announces you must wear a mask to board. GG Transit announces you must wear a mask while on board. GG Transit wins that one.

I was back at The Pork Store for brunch this morning for the first time since 3/8/20. I would have been there 3/15/20 for my last pre-lockdown meal, but I had already decided public transit was too risky. By 3/8/20 I had already had brunch there eight times in 2020 so that gives you some idea how often I like to eat there. I was happy to see that my favorite waitress has survived along with the place itself. They were only seating at four tables inside -- the owner is dead cheap so I wasn’t surprised they had not spent money on outside seating. I won’t return on the weekend until they reopen the counter, but I might return on a weekday when I’m not hogging a table a party could be enjoying.

And yesterday I had my first, good, Indian meal since early 2020. So good. I’m now four birthday meals down with six more to go.

The only problem has been that it is still on the cold side here, almost never above 60F, which makes eating outside less tempting. Tomorrow is supposed to be a little warmer so I hope to take advantage of that. And it’s a one day “heat wave” so I really need to seize the day.

Day 400 - The guilty verdicts came down so fast yesterday that people were still in the process of boarding up all the windows around Union Square after the danger was past... for the moment. I was out for lunch inside another restaurant I hadn’t been to for over 400 days -- I hit it just before as I knew it was probably my last chance. Unfortunately, they took my favorite menu item off the menu again so I had to make do with something that was not nearly as good. And it was still good to be out doing something almost normal. Almost normal because I was the only customer eating inside. And now it’s cold again. We may even get some much needed rain over the weekend, though I’ll believe it when I see it.

Day 402 - Spotted the first bee in the still ripening blossoms of the bush out my kitchen window. There are even more little buds than last year so it’s going to be buzzing with bees soon. I am going to have to cut some of the branches back after they finish blooming as they are now long enough to brush against our building. Against the paint on our building. If the tenants below me hadn’t requested otherwise I would have cut the bush back to the property line last summer.

There was some looting across the bay the night before last but as they didn’t have the cover provided by hundreds or thousands of people violently protesting in the streets, the police stopped it quickly. They must have been very disappointed by the verdict.

Now that I’ve come out the other side of the pandemic, it’s interesting to look back on the experience. A year ago, when I made a rare trip to the market I would return with the thought that I might have been infected and that my chances of surviving were not good. Not because my health is compromised, but because I don’t have any in house support. If I got sick there would be no one to take care of me. I would survive on my own or not. And as time progressed and I learned more about the situations in the hospital and the dangers of being on a ventilator, I became even more reluctant to go that route. So either I would beat it or I would probably die. This is the kind of thing you try not to think about but it hangs over you. 

In the past week I’ve been living almost as before. Walking all over town running errands and eating out, riding public transit almost every day. The Bank Cafe is still not open for its intended third space purpose, but I suspect that will come next month or the month after. I’m still being cautious, wearing a double mask when I’m around groups of people, but the constant background fear is gone. I still wipe down my grocery purchases with alcohol, but this is mostly a habit now. I don’t think of the items as being coated with poison as I did a year ago.

I also just discovered that I’ve spent my stimulus payments down to the last dollar -- exactly. These were all expended on items that needed to be replaced in any event -- from a refrigerator to laptops to shoes and clothes to new eye glasses -- but I’m still surprised I didn’t save any of it. Most of it was even purchased locally, supporting local business or at least the local workers of national businesses.

Day 410 - I’m eating -- and working -- at my other favorite neighborhood pizzeria for the first time. Aside from its being empty and my wearing a mask now that my meal is over, it’s just like normal. And this is the place with good music, which is still just as good.

My birthday celebration is now past and my spring cleaning is still waiting on weather warm enough to throw my windows open. As soon as I get caught up on my errands I plan to resume with Proust. While the pandemic is as bad or even worse than ever in India and Brazil and a few other places -- Michigan is still a mess -- but, unless something strange happens, I think it is over here. I may only mention it now as even more places open up and as my usual work returns. Still hoping for the end of this summer but 2022 is probably a safer bet.

322. On Luck and mid-century houses

Link to Table of Contents

Dwell mid-century homes

Since I got on Dwell’s daily email list I get notices of so many mid-century modern houses that are either on the market or that have been either brought up to date or restored to close to their original appearance. While these houses are much nicer than anything my family ever lived in, there are aspects that are stunningly familiar. One recent house, both available online and in the current issue of the magazine, even preserved the electric stove and oven we had in Boulder -- the kind with two ovens at eye height and stove burners in a drawer that you could close to free up more room and hide the burners. Why isn’t there a modern version of this? (I looked and there seem to be only some survivors on the market.) 

The ‘60s were hardly the best of times for me, but seeing these old houses takes me back in a positive way. That Boulder house, that we built in 1960, was the best house we ever lived in. Though the crawl space under the main level of our split level was a terrible idea. And, since I was still the smallest, it was my job to access that storage area. I wonder if anyone has DIYd an automated storage system for those spaces?

Dwell also covered a show about the Eameses that is currently at the Oakland museum. Along with Richard Feynman, meeting the Eameses is something else that would have been possible for me when we lived in SoCal if only I had known about them. And I was already interested in both design and particle physics, so it wouldn’t have been impossible. I could at least have visited some of the Case Study houses, which would have included the Eames house -- the least glazed of them all, I believe, and the one I really like best.

On luck

I do believe in luck, though I prefer the Roman concept of Fortune. Sulla, one of the best and most successful Roman commanders, was so aware of the importance of Fortune that he built a temple in honor of that goddess or concept. And he added Felix to his name. He came to the same conclusion Clausewitz would arrive at centuries later, that being lucky was essential to success in war.

My belief in fortune, and in my good fortune, is on a less grand and less bloody scale. And it has a very odd side -- in general I seem to be unlucky. But that’s fine with me as I seem to be lucky with the bigger things. I’m thinking about this because I’ve been having a rather spectacular run of bad luck in little things. I could choose any one of three pharmacies to get a prescription filled and I randomly chose the one that is not open on holidays. So I have to wait a day, not a problem. When booking tickets for a trip I randomly chose one of even more options for where a bus could pick you up and take you to the train. When the software wouldn’t accept that option, I assumed that they were not doing the bus anymore, for some reason. It turned out they had just limited the pickup options and I had picked the wrong one. I called in and got the reservation revised to include the pickup point they still service. Again, puzzling, but no real problem. 

My near constantly bad bus luck is the most regular example of my bad luck. It takes on the appearance of a cosmic joke when I arrive at my stop only to see the infrequent bus pulling away.

And yet I do see myself as fortunate. My draft lottery number kept me out of prison in 1970. My being freakishly ill in 1997 resulted in my buying the place I now live. If I had had the energy to find another place to rent, I would not be able to afford to live in SF today. 

I have problems with one of my eyes as a result of a car accident I was in, also in 1970. The driver in the other vehicle died and there were two different instants during the course of the accident -- we hit ice on a four lane mountain highway and crashed into the K-rail at the precipice before bouncing off, into oncoming traffic, and finally ending up against the hillside on the other side of the road -- when I acknowledged that I was going to die. But I didn’t. So having some annoying problems with one eye almost fifty years later seems like good fortune to me.

Of course I like the illness in 1997 best because who else would view the only time I’ve felt ill for more than a day or so since I was a child as an instance of good fortune. There were no symptoms to speak of and it ended as abruptly as it began. I didn’t have a doctor at the time -- since I never get sick -- and the doctor I found (in the building out my kitchen window) didn’t know what to make of it. I could hardly get out of bed for over a week and then, suddenly, I was better, but it took time to regain my strength. And that was when I became a condo owner. The best financial decision I only sort-of made.


Of course writing this makes me recall a great James Thurber story “The Luck of Jad Peters.” That projectile may be heading for me even as I type this.

The WPA San Francisco Model and Muni

One of the many local WPA projects was a model of the city in painted wood. It was displayed briefly and then went into storage. Now sections are being displayed in most of our library branches, plus Main and SFMOMA. I friend is blogging about the model and I've been in charge of getting us to the branches by public transport. When you bring someone unfamiliar with Muni onto Muni buses and trains, you can't help seeing (and smelling) it with their senses. It is not always pleasant.

Since I don't have a car, I don't have any option but to ride Muni, but I also think the experience is valuable for a local citizen. You can't hide from the city's problems or from the reality of what many of our fellow citizens are like when you are riding the bus. I'm convinced that people with naive, liberal ideas of how all our problems can be solved with just the right mix of laws and program funding, do not ride the bus regularly.

I think the same is true for most of the people who are opposed to the ride share companies -- the remainder of the opponents either drive taxis or can't afford even the reduced cost of ride shares and want the rest of the world to share their lot. Ride shares -- especially the kind where you share the ride with a number of people -- are simply a better form of transportation that society should be helping to support rather than fight against. 

Which is not to say there aren't some problems that need to be addressed. Uber and Lyft are contributing to increased traffic here because so many of their drivers are on the streets. 

I'm still waiting for the app that will finally compel me to buy a smartphone, and there's a chance it will be a ride share app. (Though I'm still hoping for that hearing protection/hearing aid/phone/music device that will do everything at once.)

147. Certifiably a geezer

Previous - 146. Virginia Woolf

Birthday

It has occurred to me that I should be celebrating today -- the last day I'm 64 -- rather than tomorrow, when I'm definitively a senior citizen. 

TV

Growing up, my mother (the mystery reader) could always figure the killer early in the show, and I almost never could. Partly this is because I like to be told a story -- taken along for the ride. (The same reason I don't like to see "making of" and "behind the scenes of" features.) But now I could probably beat her in guessing the killer, though not because I'm better at solving mysteries. I just look for the most recognizable face around the murder. They usually give the juiciest part to the most experienced or talented actor, and that person has usually been around. 

I think I've even written about this before, but I'm finishing the 7th season of Castle and it keeps happening. The good thing about this is that I can pay attention to the murderer throughout the show and don't have to re-watch to see how she played the earlier scenes. It does feel like cheating though.
 

Birthday

You can't say I don't know how to celebrate a birthday, for lunch I had my favorite Vietnamese tofu sandwich, then I walked up Market to my usual Peet's were I ordered both my usual iced tea and a cookie. And now I'm reviewing an Advanced Health Care Directive a friend gave me. (No coupons for adult diapers, I checked.)

I hate these things. They are like a test with no right answers. Plus, selecting an "agent" to represent you is a nightmare. Who would you trust to do this? Who is likely to be around (or still be alive) when you need to surrender your agency? I have the same problem picking an executor for a will.

3. Life would no longer be worth living if I were not able to: Well, I can't really know that in advance, can I? I would like to say, "Survive a migration across the Serengeti with basic survival supplies." But I have reason to believe I could adapt to living in a less robust state. I even have reason to believe that I could learn something by living in that state.

I could drop down a gear to, "Use the bathroom without assistance." But, again, who can know for sure what I would be willing to put up with if I were in a blissed-out, semi-mystical, near-death state? 

How about, "Put me down if I need a bone-marrow transplant or the services of a Burn Treatment Center." But then, they can't do that.

Even the CPR question is a stumper. I still have problems with a minor rib injury from the early '80s, so CPR sounds like it would almost certainly be a bad idea, but I can imagine strange situations where -- nothing else major being wrong with me -- it might be worth the risk. This would be easier to answer in another 20 years. By that time I expect my answer to all these questions will be, "Just run me over with the ambulance."

My thoughts and feelings about where I would prefer to die: I put, "In my sleep... Probably." Again, who knows? This is contingent on what death is like. Would I rather die in the middle of a particularly irritating dream or while normally conscious? Don't know? Can't know. 

One answer to this is, "At home." But even that is not necessarily true. "At hospice or a good hotel," could be a better option for me.

I want my loved ones to know that if I am nearing my death, I would appreciate the following for comfort and support (prayers, rituals, music, etc.) "Strippers!" was the first thought that came to me, so maybe I should go with that. Would "rituals" include human sacrifice? Asking for a friend.

Religious or spiritual affiliation: "It's complicated." Chanting Tibetan monks might be a delight to have around while you're dying... or not. 

There is no conclusion here, at least not now. I don't even know if I would choose death by complete surprise (like being blind-sided by a bus) to a contemplative death in my own bed -- or a bed in a nice hotel. If given a choice, I would have to go with "surprise me," though quick bus death sounds like a lot less work.  


And now I've cleaned out my webmail folders for March. All ready for my next year of life.

Day after

Wrapped up my birthday last night at my favorite Burmese restaurant. We had all our favorite dishes. There are even a few left-overs for tonight. 

Today I went to the SFMTA office to get my Senior Clipper card so I get the senior discount when riding public transit... this is my big payoff for being a geezer. Turned into the ultimate MUNI experience. It was like taking the worst aspects of riding their buses and putting them indoors. 

I walked in and was assigned a number. As I was sitting down the number before mine was called so I figured this would go quickly. A half hour later I was still waiting. Here's what I think happened: I was not waiting for any window, but for window 10 which apparently was the only one dealing with my issue. The person before me took quite a long time to resolve their business. When they finally left I was poised to jump up and respond to my number being called... but it never was. Either the woman at 10 took a break, or she simply forgot to inform the system that she was free. After a half hour I went back to the guy who assigned me the number, who said my number was still in the cue and he didn't know why it hadn't been called. I finally just walked over to window 10 to see what was happening and the woman was doing something on her phone. When I said I'd been waiting 30 minutes she said my number had been called (no). We completed our business in a minute or two. So MUNI.

Next - 148. Kafka and memory

120. A thought experiment

Previous - 119. Catching up

Transit

MUNI, the local transit agency for San Francisco, is both amazingly busy (for an American transit system) and amazingly incompetent. I happened to move to SF the summer they replaced their electric trolley buses. 

That was 40 years ago. That generation of new buses was replaced eventually and some of those replacement buses are still on the road today... 

...along with an even newer generation just coming into service in the past year. 

The trolleys got quieter, than louder, and now quieter again. The system for notifying the operator you want to get off, has gotten more elaborate to better serve the disabled, elderly, short, and those standing in the center aisle. Operators gained the ability to adjust their mirrors remotely (a huge time saver when shifts change) and battery backup so they don't get stuck in intersections without power. (Though I do sometimes miss the days when riders had to get out to help push the bus out of an intersection.) They gained the ability to carry wheelchairs and scooter (and now strollers) and the most recent generation has lowered the floor to make this process easier. 

What's unique about the newest generation (which also successfully tackled the problem of the truly vile off-gassing of new plastics) is that the new trolley buses, for the first time, visually match the motor coaches. They are identical except for the poles on the roof. 

This is a purely cosmetic factor, I was about to say, except that, now I think of it, it isn't at all. I assume that, apart from the motors and engines -- drive trains, if you will -- there is probably a great deal of commonality (in parts, for example) between the electric and hybrid buses which should make maintenance simpler. I have no idea how significant this really is. 

I totally lucked out in scheduling my exploratory visit to SF in May of 1976, just before the prior generation of trolley buses were replaced. I got to ride several of those old beasts. 

They looked like they were from the '30s or '40s. Their motors where amazingly loud. SF does have a great transit museum collection and they do still have at least one of these old trolleys that I see when they occasionally bring out the old equipment. 

MUNI, I've heard, is close to introducing a third generation of light-rail trains -- the first generation started service a year or more after I arrived. But BART, the only heavy rail, mass transit operator here, is still using it's original equipment from the early '70s, though they are in the process of introducing replacement trains. I assume this means that heavy rail is both more efficient by carrying many more people on their tracks (with lower labor costs -- more passengers per operator), but also by getting more years of service out of their investment in rolling stock. And yet almost all new service these days seems to be light-rail. It makes no sense to me. 

It's time...

...for a political thought experiment. Imagine if you will that the U.S. Supreme Court decides the recent Presidential election is void due to Russian interference and orders a new election to be held in June of this year. People of sanity breath a sigh of relief. Clinton already won the popular vote and it's reasonable to think that she would pick up a significant percentage of Stein supporters (I can't actually imagine Stein deferring to Clinton for this election because politicians are ego maniacs). Also some percentage of the people on the left who couldn't bring themselves to vote for Clinton (a woman) will rethink that decision now and some percentage of people who voted for Trump will be having buyer's remorse. So it's all good, right? No.

It's my understanding that more eligible voters failed to vote than voted for either major candidate. Normally these (don't give a fuck) voters aren't a factor, but in my thought experiment I think they might be. First off, I doubt many of them are Clinton supporters. Politically engaged liberals vote. Aside from the already mentioned segment that couldn't bring themselves to vote for a woman, I suspect most of these non-voters are screw-the-system types who don't vote because they assume The System is rigged against them. But not any more. Now they have a screw-the-system President. (I concede that this view explains why my prediction that Trump would win the popular vote was wrong without really being wrong.) 

So, in my June election thought experiment I think, as Trump has asserted, he would not only win the Electoral College but the popular vote as well.

Next - 121. In which Hegel fails us

12. Budd Road

Previous - 11. A trivial return

Budd Road

While I was still in bed this morning I heard the radio news report of a break-in at an Apple Computer building on Budd Road in Cupertino, miles away from the main campus around De Anza. That took me back... twenty-six years in fact.

My first day working on the Apple HyperCard IIgs testing team, I rode the train to Sunnyvale and caught a bus to Cupertino. The bus dropped me on the other side of a suburban residential neighborhood from the Apple Campus, so I had to make my way through this typical California maze until I found my building: Valley Green 6 (the sixth apple building on Valley Green street.) About the first thing I had to do was go get an ID badge. These are the cards you use to open the automatic doors or to show the security people, when the entrance is manned.

To get my  badge, I had to go to a building on Budd Road. Of course they assumed I had a car. Getting to Budd meant walking down De Anza and then across on Stevens Creek. In places there were no sidewalks so I had to walk in the street. Just before Stevens Creek hit Budd, there was, if I recall correctly, an overpass over what wasn't yet a freeway (85). My recollection is that they had started work on this, made it as far south as Stevens Creek, and then stopped. They eventually completed 85 all the way to 101 (in both directions actually, which is a little confusing) and it's the best way to skirt the traffic in downtown San Jose when you're traveling either north or south. 

After getting my badge, I then had to walk back again and never had any reason to return to Budd. I assumed, what with all the Apple expansion on Infinite Loop and elsewhere, that the Budd buildings were a thing of the past. Apparently not.

Muni bus ride from hell

I try to avoid the 19 Polk bus and today's short ride reminded me why. I boarded in Polk Gulch, just as the bus entered the Tenderloin district. From that point on there were people in wheel chairs or pushing wheel chairs or pushing carts full of their junk using the bus lifts to board or exit the bus at every stop. Sometimes several of them. We were stuck at one stop for over 10 minutes as these people jostled each other exiting the bus so that a new wheeled group could board. This meant that all the ambulatory passengers had to use the rear door, where several of them also insisted on standing in the doorway. At the very back of the bus, near me, was a woman shouting that people should stop talking to her in her head.

Fortunately, my bus luck this morning has been otherwise great (for timing) so I was running ahead of schedule and now have some time to write this up as I'm waiting for my lunch appointment.

Next - 13. Architecture walk + The Sunflower