The Temporary Normal

How does that sound? I know, we’ve been inundated with countless headlines and examples of “the new normal,” usually designating some aspect of the coronavirus that we find troubling, distasteful and hard to handle. Why not call it what it is: the temporary normal?

I would guess because doing so doesn’t play on that angst the media hopes to generate by exploiting people’s fears. I’m hardly a shaved-head/goateed freedom fighter. If anything, I want us all to wear masks when necessary in public, socially distance when necessary, and get this thing under control as quickly as possible. You’ll find me walking in the street routinely to avoid assholes on the sidewalk who are going completely maskless and appear indifferent that the three-feet width of sidewalk we’ll be sharing doesn’t cut it in terms of distancing. (While I firmly believe it’s very hard to get this thing outdoors unless you’re in a crowd, I also firmly believe someone who unsubtly signals me that he’s sloppy and careless is worth avoiding at this time.)

I started in with “the mask thing” with the understanding that I’d go out walking with these neck gaiters that you can pull up over your face like a balaclava. That way, I could walk without a mask for long stretches where I wasn’t encountering anyone. This theory worked in March when there were much less people venturing out. Once it warmed up, and particularly on sunny days, it made no sense to keep pulling up the mask and dropping it down as people were coming out of the woodwork. It made more sense to simply put the mask on when I left the house and leave it on until I got back. I found myself running into people routinely enough that it became impractical to keep going up and down, particularly with runners coming up behind me on my walks, never mind more people coming out of doorways.

That’s where I’m at now. I keep this in mind when I see these unbelievable news clips, people jammed together at a resort bar swimming pool in the Ozarks. Without fail, every interview of a participant is an eye-rolling exercise in unforgivable stupidity. I know, again, the media is doing its thing by rubbing our noses in these outlandish situations. That’s why they’re news; you’re not going to get pearls of wisdom from a drunken, shirtless 23-year-old in full-on party mode. (I would put forth that the reporter was lucky that his response wasn’t, “Blah ba-ba-ba cunk ma-ma” … before the interviewee vomited on her ... the reporter then desperately googling "coronavirus and vomit" on her iPhone.)

But I also think about someone living in rural or suburban America. These people most likely have property, even if it’s only a backyard. Some may have acres of property. They’re used to walking around the property with no mask. They get in their cars and visit people with similar space and properties. They’re not living in a bubble. I’m sure they understand, get the mask on at the supermarket or drug store. But I would also guess that’s the only time a lot of these folks are wearing masks, and they’re not as acclimated as I am to this living in a crowded city. There’s no excuse for what went on in the Ozarks video, but I also understand it’s a completely different scenario than the one I’ve experienced in a city where the virus dropped like a bomb.

Last week, I gave myself a quarantine self haircut. I had to as I was about a month past my normal cutting date, and it was getting far too shaggy. The hair felt heavy on my head. My hair goes wide before it goes long, and I hate the feeling of going helmet head with too much hair. How did it go? See for yourself. Not a bad job, right?

Of course, that’s only half the story. I own a set of Conair barber clippers, extensions and scissors. I bought these in the 90s, back in the Bronx – why, I can’t recall. But it stayed with me through two moves, so I sensed some value in the kit despite never using it. Last Wednesday, the time had come. I watched at least a dozen videos on YouTube regarding self haircuts – some complete bullshit, others helpful. I noticed that most of these guys had relatively short hair to begin with and wouldn’t be giving themselves the radical cut I was in store for. The general idea appeared to be pick out the clipper extension one higher than you’re used to getting at the barber. I normally “get a #3” – matching that clipper extension. So, I clipped on the 4 extension, the idea being start at the bottom of your hairline on the back and sides and push it through your hair all the way up to the natural part, making sure to pull the clipper away as you moved near the top.

That worked very well. There was so much hair in the sink that it looked like I was shearing a sheep. So, I got out the 3 extension with the concept of going halfway up the back and sides. This went very well, too, even more hair. I could see the beginning of the fade effect of a normal haircut.

With the 2 extension, the concept was to just go about an inch up the sides and back, as this would be a much closer cut. Very good results again – I felt great, even though hair was all over my back and the sink. (It would take me close to half an hour to clean up afterwards and a few days of dabbing up loose hairs around the bathroom with moistened tissues.) Still, when I pushed my hand against the back, I didn’t get that feeling of a full cut, of hair bristles flicking against my fingers.

I decided to take off any of the extensions and use the bare clipper on the very back edge of my head and the lower sides beneath each ear. It felt great on the back of my head – that bristly effect I loved to feel after leaving the barber with a good haircut. So, I did the sides behind the ears, too.

This is what happened on the right side! The left side, I carved out only a small patch that’s already grown over. But boy, did I mangle that patch of my head, down to bare skin. I hadn’t even realized it as the hair felt the same all around, not like these two jagged V’s cut into my head. I finished off with the top of my head, simply combing up swatches of hair and clipping off ¼-inch portions that were between my fingers. This went well, too, although I’m sure a real barber would shit himself laughing over my ineptitude. I know I left too much hair on top, but there was no way I was going to butcher that part of my head. I’ve been waking up with an eraserhead as the hair goes straight up after sleeping all night, but this is easily reduced with a comb and some water. In a few weeks, the sides will grow in proportionately.

As far as that awful patch behind my right ear? Lesson learned: never take bare barber clippers to the back of your head! I never thought I’d look forward to wearing a face mask, but this is how most people have been and will be seeing me in public for awhile! My neck gaiters pull up nicely on my ears so I can just cover my radical error. It’s a week later, and I can already see those patches growing in; I hope they’re grown over in another week, two at the most. Frankly, I don’t ever want to cut my hair again and hope the barbershops in NYC re-open some time in July.

Thus, the virus rolls on, with the news of the day and our own personal foibles. Things here are getting better, to the point where we’ll be going Phase Yellow in a few weeks. Forget about politics. You either want this thing under control and our lives reverting to a more normal existence, or you want to pretend this thing doesn’t exist. The sort of empty bravado I’m seeing on the news, and often on the streets, is just that. People who are either so stupid or afraid (or both) that they can’t grasp this thing without forming a disingenuous, macho wall of denial around themselves. If the virus rolls around for a second or third round, and I suspect it will with or without masks, here’s hoping that what we’re going through now is the worst it gets, and we’ll be ready and able to handle it. I have to believe there are enough people out there with their heads on straight that we’ll keep a lid on this thing.

Tallboys

Things are going well in New York City. Our virus numbers are slowly but surely decreasing, and it’s foreseeable by month’s end that we’ll be able to start the re-opening process.

We’ve reached the Tallboy stage.

This stage is designated by the addition of tallboy beer cans to street trash, alongside the used rubber medical gloves, that I still see constantly. (On the plus side, I haven’t seen any used rubbers in the gutters for awhile.) We had a few warm days last weekend, after a month of unruly weather not unlike Scotland’s rainy/windy climate. Of course, people came out in droves, which was to be expected. One thing I hadn’t anticipated. At night, I could hear young adults and kids going around in groups. Not necessarily being assholes, but being an asshole did seem to be a prerequisite for many of them.

Even without aural proof of them wandering the night, I could tell they were assholes by their droppings. The usual detritus – empty cigarillo and cigar packs to make marijuana blunts, and those small zip-lock packets suggesting recreational drug use. But most of all: empty tall-boy cans of cheap beer. Keystone Light, Milwaukee’s Best, Bud Light, etc. You have to be cheap and tasteless to be buying shit beer like this. Buying it in tall-boy cans?

Asshole.

Much to my surprise, I haven't seen any Four Loko cans. Maybe too high class for this crowd?

In a perverse way, it’s a good sign. It suggests a greater wave of freedom is coming, and these assholes can’t wait to partake. Granted, I’m describing very few people in the neighborhood, but I look at them as those birds you see in flying V formations in early March skies, slightly ahead of schedule. I can clearly see we’re going to have stops and starts, and flare-ups with the virus in the next few months. By the same token, we’re all yearning to be free, so I can understand an idiot expressing it this way. I have to believe that with social distancing and masks in tight public quarters, and enough sane people practicing these things, that we’ll be able to keep a lid on this, if not eradicate it. Once we get a vaccine in place and mass inoculations? Game over for this shit virus. Or at least render it controllable on the same level as the annual flu epidemic, which will still mean tens of thousands dying. (If you hadn’t noticed, this is normal for the flu.)

But we’re months away from that, not even to the point of opening society here in NYC, but inching closer. It’s a good feeling. As much as I hate masks and waiting in lines for basic services, I’m much more used to it now. Unlike people who are going around stating things will never, ever be the same again, I can see they will eventually. Beware of people using “never, ever” in a sentence. If they’re more than five years old, there’s no excuse. If you’re thinking “never, ever” with this virus, understand that the Spanish Flu in 1918 killed 50 million people and infected over 500 million. Aside from the availability of an annual flu shot, there have been no “never, ever” scenarios associated with that pandemic. (I write that knowing there are probably countless small ways the flu changed society that we still practice today. But I’m focusing more on alarmists now implying our world will be “forever changed” in countless major ways. They may as well be wearing acid-wash jeans and listening to Candlebox and Matchbox 20 as far as I’m concerned. Things change, often for the better. Every “list of changes” article I’ve read has been nothing but negative; there will be major, positive changes coming from this thing, the same way they come from any world war, which is exactly what this is.)

I like to think there’s a Jonas Salk out there who, in the next few years, will come up with a gamechanger in terms of thwarting any future viral outbreaks. As it is, I’ll settle for an annual vaccination that keeps the coronavirus numbers manageable going forward. Amidst all the negativity and paranoia, I’d like to believe there are some major breakthroughs in the near future that could greatly diminish or eradicate pandemics all together. At least something more tangible than wearing a fucking mask and crossing my fingers that some moron doesn’t sneeze too close to me! I don’t consider myself a particularly hopeful person. Maybe when I was a child or teenager, or a young adult. But at some point in my adult life, I realized that if you want positive results, you need to work towards them, with the possibility that all your hard work might be fruitless. I suspect there’s a lot of that going on right now with major drug and viral research companies.

What the hardest thing I’m realizing the past few weeks? It’s not only the virus and its endless spider web of issues. It’s stupidity. I see it every day. It’s safe to say that New York City has been one of the hardest hit places on earth by this virus, over 20,000 dead, hundreds of thousands infected. From the first day of mask regulations to this day, I will see people with no masks, clearly no intention of ever wearing one, making no effort to distance themselves from anyone, convinced this whole thing is “fake news.” On the streets. In stores, although I’ve seen a few deny them entrance. Believe me, when you live here, unless you’re completely clueless, you’re acutely aware of just how hard this thing has hit.

I can work around this individual stupidity, but when stupidity is contagious and possibly deadly? That’s a whole new level of crawling up your own asshole. In every action movie, there are numbskull bad guys who appear to be menacing. We watch the movie and usually within the first half hour, these brazen imbeciles either get murdered or ass-kicked by the hero. These people I’m seeing now in New York remind me of those disposable action-movie henchmen: arrogant and dumb as nails. I never found that movie-character archetype worth emulating, but these guys aspire to that level of assholic loser. Whether it’s on the streets of New York or toting a semi-automatic rifle in a state capitol’s veranda. This is shameful behavior that’s the antithesis of everything I understand to be true about America.

The unspoken threat I’m seeing is the horrifying failure of the American education system that people like this not only exist, but take a perverse level of pride in their stupidity. If we come away with anything from this? It’s the realization that we need to overhaul our education system so that people like this can grasp basic human qualities like shame and empathy.

And a word on New York “seeding” the virus in early March via travel before restrictions were imposed in mid-March. It makes sense. We were all living normal lives up to St. Patrick’s Day, believing the virus “wasn’t here yet” and those news reports of pandemics in China and Italy would, much like SARS, have little impact here. I would wager all American cities did the same to varying degrees. You can’t really fault people for spreading what they did not know or understand to exist at the time. None of us did.

That said, I gather there have been waves of New Yorkers who have abandoned the city since then, not quite realizing wherever they go, the virus is already there. And they’re possibly bringing it with them. A vast majority of us stood our ground and have weathered this thing. April was a truly frightening month to live here, no matter how much we downplayed it in reassuring phone calls and emails. It’s the same fear a lot of people across the country are going to have when virus numbers skyrocket where they live. It didn’t occur to me to leave here for two reasons: this seemed as good a place as any to face this thing, and I didn’t want to risk spreading the virus wherever I might have gone.

The pain of New York? All those people who fled will come back. Eventually, they’ll be among those who can afford to live here. Many of us who stood our ground, who chose to stay, will slowly be funneled out of this city by rising rents and gentrification. What’s wrong with this picture?