This baffles me

This baffles me.

I know I’m stating the obvious, but it’s been an odd couple of years. More than a couple, to be honest.

I am trying to lean on empathy and compassion, always better choices than anger (and its central source: grief). So I am not going to blame anyone who has chosen to purchase the snake oil medicine (I reserve sharp condemnation for its salespeople).

But I have to give myself a moment to vent about what is so baffling.

If ten years ago, I told you that we would face a pandemic that would kill one in every 500 American and cause severe illness and in some cases long term disability in countless others, this is what you would say: Gosh, I hope they come up with a vaccine for it.

They did. They did come up with a vaccine. Multiple options, actually. It was a modern miracle how quickly they were able to do so while still taking care to go through all the testing procedures to reduce risk of harmful side effects.

Wow, you might say. That’s wonderful. I mean, of course, no vaccine is perfect, but it could stop the spread and prevent…

I’m going to stop you there. These vaccines were unusually effective. Not perfect, but effective, and the risk of the disease is far far far worse than any side effects of the vaccine. We also know that vaccine side effects are limited to the initial months after the vaccine is administered.

Oh, you say, that’s great. Of course, I understand that there might be a few people hesitant at first to try the vaccine. They might need to wait a few months to see how it goes. They might need to see what happens to people who get the vaccine.

Yes, that’s fair. Some people know they are unusually sensitive to drugs and just need to see what happens with widespread use. I mean, I went and got a vaccine the earliest I could because I did not like my odds with Covid19, but I guess I can understand wanting to wait a month or two as long as you go to great length to avoid contact with others until you get vaccinated.

And? How did it go with widespread use?

Really well, I say. Billions of people have safely been vaccinated. And it’s been more than 8 months since the first person received a vaccine.

Billions!! That must have been reassuring.

Well, a more infectious variant arose that does cause some of them to get a little sick. In statistically rare cases, worse.

Those are pretty impressive results in the face of a new variant. Did that cause people to question the vaccine?

Well… the trouble is, there are people now who simply won’t trust any vaccine. Not because of anything that’s actually happened but, well, I’m not sure I can explain why not.

That could be a problem. I mean, any vaccine? Weren’t vaccines what we would count on to solve this challenge? I mean, look at polio.

Yes, it is baffling.

Is it the cost?

Well, in the U.S., everyone can get a Covid19 vaccine for free, actually.

Wow!

But if you get sick of Covid19, that can bankrupt you if you don’t have the right insurance.

Yikes. That should make it easy for them…

I’m going to stop you there. No, instead anti-vaxxers are taking horse dewormer.

What? And ewww.

Yes, instead of a free vaccine with a success rate in the billions (which are numbers, to be honest, beyond what I can comprehend), they are taking something that makes them sick and has no credible evidence of helping with the disease. At most, there are people who say maybe it helped them.

Um, you say, I’m all for personal stories and the insights they provide to inspire more extensive research, but couldn’t I get better for lots of different reasons? I mean, I could decide that sitting in the sun is what healed me?

Yes, yes, you could.

That wouldn’t mean it’s true, even if you like me better than the people who are telling you about the vaccine.

Nope.

But… but… but…

I told you this baffles me.

Well, is there anything else they can do other than take the vaccine?

They can wear a mask.

Is it a heavy mask? Is it expensive? Is it harmful in any way?

Nope.

Just a mask? Like a surgical mask? Like the kind that has been around and been helpful for centuries? You don’t have to swallow anything? You don’t have to deal with any side effects, just wear an additional garment of clothing?

Yep.

Does it actually help?

Yep. (See below)

Do they do it? I bet they especially want their children to wear one. And to make sure everyone who comes near their children wears one.

Sigh….

Alternative Facts About my W-I-P

Dear Publishing Professional:

This book about aliens wearing fuzzy orange hats compares well with your favorite book, which turns out to be Little Women, and I’m going to get back to you on exactly how this is the right fit.

My protagonist is indeed grappling with a life or death decision that will keep you up at night and cause you to wonder if anything is real anymore. You will need intense therapy after you read this book. No, no, I mean it, there is no way that this book is just an entertaining story with a few subtle and not-so-subtle themes. No one wants to read that any more, do they? They want to be scarred for life by the act of reading, or so your mswishlist led me to believe and I am here for it.

My novel is exactly 75,000 words long, the perfect length, I know, and that was made possible once I added the word “very” 10,000 times. I never realized how very helpful that word could be. Because I am a creative (which turns out to be a noun now, and I am fine with that), I also added the word “so” a few thousand times too.

I would tell you my favorite books except that talking about favorite books is a bit like telling someone my favorite music, and there is nothing that sparks disdain more than finding out someone likes the wrong kind of music. Let’s leave it at this—I love to read and write, and some of what I read are books.

This book will be so easy to sell because the truth is that I don’t even need any help selling it. I am just writing this query for the fun of it. No, wait, how about this—I am doing it to give back to the publishing community out of gratitude for the many books I have loved over the years, and now that I’ve written that sentence I admit there is some truth to that.

Of course, everything I’ve written so far is completely true or at least is similar to things that have sometimes been true.

With warm regards and possibly a plate of chocolate chip cookies,

Me

Flowers for graduation

My eldest finished high school this week, including the traditional march across the stage, and I’ve got all the feels. When you have a baby, they warn you of sleepless nights and dirty diapers. But they don’t mention that there comes a moment when you have to applaud the fact that your baby is no longer your baby.

We don’t follow many traditions in our home, and I can’t recall buying flowers, well, ever, but to mark this occasion, I grabbed some tulips and mini-carnations when I was in the store. I found one of my mother’s pottery pieces and, as you do, began to estimate where I should cut the stems before placing them in the tiny pitchers. I hesitated about cutting them, knowing that it would shorten how long the flowers might last. I reminded myself that these are cut flowers, meant to fill a space with light and joy for the moment, not forever.

May in the mountains

One time when I lived in the world of NotBoone, a friend told me how much she loved May. I seem to recall we were riding a train somewhere, passing fields of brightly colored flowers. And I remember feeling surprised that I didn’t have any such associations with the month of May.

This year, I’m remembering why. May in my neck of the mountains tends to mock us with the hope of spring. Sure, there are occasional good moments. The sky turns this crazy dark blue, and the air is crisp and fresh. The trees show off new leaves. Some of the azaleas and rhododendron decide to bloom.

Then comes the rain. The wind. It’s too cold to go out without a jacket, but embarrassing if you give in and put on a hat or scarf. I definitely regret leaving the house without pulling on long socks. My mind tells me it’s warmer than it was all winter. But that was winter. This is May. Come on.

Still, the rain can’t last forever (knock on wood). And here I am, creeping back onto my blog. Ready to write again, I guess. Even if it is just about the weather.

Hold on.

This weekend I was pondering what to write on my blog today. I thought I might list all the people I am worrying about, fellow humans who I do not know but who are in extreme danger. Syria comes to mind often. Iraq/Iran/Afghanistan. People around the world and within my country living in places in a permanent state of violence and/or deprivation. All the refugees adrift in a world that itself is coming adrift with each passing day. Individuals who are made vulnerable by circumstances or systematic oppression. And the people who are not in extreme danger but who are experiencing heartbreak of the small kinds. Perhaps something they have worked for and planned for is suddenly crashing to a halt due to this pandemic. Or who took what seemed like a small risk in 2019, a new venture of some sort, that now appears catastrophic in 2020.

I am not especially comfortable with organized religion, but I have a spiritual side. A phrase from the American Friends Society always resonates with me: I will hold you in the light, one says, the way others might say I will pray for you. I like the idea of light, the echoes of healing, of renewal, of better days, of hope and possibility. I like the idea that I might be able to hold someone in the light, that this is an action I can take to make the world a better place. I am holding you in the light. Everyone, really. I send out light, hope, and love to the world.

As I write these words, the first two weeks of Full Scale Pandemic Alert have passed, and the threat has become very real, and in some places, nightmarish. It is predicted that in two more weeks, we will reach the peak moment when we are least able to manage the spread of Covid19.

I don’t know how to prepare for that. I hide away. I peek at the news, then turn it off when it threatens to overwhelm me. I take deep breaths, trying to make sense of the knowledge that a worldwide disaster is unfolding, slowly in some places, and at light speed in others.

Hold on.

Viral anxiety

This weekend I became an expert in epidemiology. No, not really, but you’d think that was my goal. The past few weeks have not been ideal in terms of limiting the time I spend on Twitter or skimming the news. It’s been several years of what feel like daily shocks running the gamut from cringes to gut punches. I stumble to find a response, any response, to all that is happening.

Today my mind is still sifting through what I’ve read. There’s a story I can’t tell in detail because it belongs to a loved one under 18, who went through a nightmare of a health crisis a few years ago. At a moment when we felt most helpless to understand what was going on or how to stop the suffering, we had to go back to the doctor’s office during the height of flu season. I walked as if in a dream because I couldn’t imagine how to deal with what was already happening AND the added risk of flu.

As of today, though, my loved one’s crisis has abated. On the other hand, I have a beloved parent in assisted living, another beloved parent with respiratory issues, both over 80, not to mention friends battling cancer, others living with asthma, and quite a few working in health care. For all of them, coronavirus is one more threat among many ongoing risks.

Though we learn more each day, none of us know what to expect from this coronavirus. My new online colleagues in the field of epidemiology make clear that without sufficient testing and mitigation, we will reach new levels of crisis within weeks and may have to endure several really tough months. But none of us know what will happen, not for certain.

What is certain is that so many people who already bear heavy loads, including just the challenge to make it from one day to the next, are weighed down even more by the thought of what might lie ahead.

I feel that weight, too. So let me hold us all in the light, as the Friends say. And I will do so every time I wash my hands, like a prayer going out into the world around me. I can’t do everything, but I can do this much to keep you healthy. To let you know that it matters to me what you are going through. Hold on. Stay in the light.

Next episode?

I rarely binge watch anything. I am more the type to stay up late to finish a good book.

But then Perry Mason showed up on one of our streaming services this winter. This was good news because my mother has lost the ability to operate her TV or to hold a conversation, so when I bring her home for a meal, it helps to find a show she enjoys.

Seems like we watched Perry Mason any chance we got over the years. The joke was that no matter how many times we watched an episode, we never remembered who did it. On the other hand, we knew the killer was usually on the witness stand in the last ten minutes of the episode.

After awhile, I got sucked in and started watching the show on my own. I enjoy mysteries in general, and these stories entertained me. Yes, I roll my eyes, often, at the stereotypes, not to mention the shocking number of affairs between boss and secretary (not Della and Perry, for the record). I also grind my teeth more than once at the sight of Perry or Paul acting as if Della needs their help to walk. In general, these episodes depict a world that never existed, but instead replicate false definitions of gender, race, sexuality, and power. All fair critiques, but I still like the stories, even the cheesiest ones, where Perry intones deep insights like a prophet.

This time, though, I realized watching was a way for me to travel through time. I seem to be climbing into the screen to stare at this city in black and white, the long angular cars, the jazzy street scenes, all depicting a Los Angeles that doesn’t seem quite as endless as what we have now. Not that I know anything about L.A., just my own corner of the world that continues to expand and shift around me.

I took my mother to the eye doctor yesterday. “Hold this over your eye,” she was asked, several times. Eventually, she did.

“Can you tell me what you see?”

No answer.

“What about now?”

Letters changed to pictures.

No response. The questions did not mean anything to her.

It will be her last trip to the eye doctor, at least for an annual check-up. You have to be able to answer questions. You have to read.

Afterwards, I felt gravity pull me down. Maybe if I am smaller. Maybe if I roll myself into a curve so I take up as little space as possible, maybe this won’t hurt so much.

Later I queued up the next episode of Perry Mason. Only five episodes left, the peril of binging. The screen is full of black, white, and gray tones, flickering, fading. There is chaos, but it is predictable. We know at some point, someone will find a body. Usually it’s the defendant, who sometimes gasps and then picks up the murder weapon. It’s hard not to hiss: What are you thinking?

But there will be a trial. Berger will be cranky, but in the end he will be grateful, mostly, that the real criminal is revealed.

There is always a light note at the end of the show. Someone died, someone else will face the death penalty, but there’s always reason to laugh.

Another episode is over, and a small box appears, inviting me to click to watch more. My mouse hovers over the _next_ button. I am running out of episodes.

Whether I click now or later, there are only a few left.

Shoulder woes

This morning when I would have preferred to be writing my morning blog post, short, specific… all those goals I blathered on about yesterday… I was instead seated on the edge of a black rolling chair as an orthopedic PA stabbed a needle into the top of my shoulder. All this because my physical therapist said such a treatment might accelerate my progress in overcoming a strained rotator cuff muscle in my left shoulder, a matching set to my not-painful-anymore-but-pretty-frozen right shoulder. Accelerate is such a tempting word. I know too well that I need to celebrate slow progress in life rather than reach for quick fixes. I know this. Still, the prospect of putting on shirts without grimacing was so tempting.

And, as they say, no pain, no gain. I wish whoever they are would stop saying that. It’s not very comforting. No pain was what I wanted to gain.

Most of the day since then has been spent icing, medicating, and seeking creative ways to position my left arm that aren’t super annoying. So scratch off most of my goals for the day.

Good news. Sorta. My shoulder hurts less, almost back to its normal state of discomfort, so I am here whining, I mean, blogging, but not quite on the topic I intended. I will save it for tomorrow, and hope you all will treat your shoulders better than I have. I suspect that ignoring my posture and spending too much time in front of computers might have played a role. Just a guess.

Rate your last meeting.

I wanted to write a post on time management tips for women in honor of women’s history month, but anything I came up with sounded too snarky, and even worse, inaccurate.

It occurred to me that women may not need time management advice but tips on how to survive some of the things they have to do but may not want to do. My mind leapt immediately to meetings, in particular meetings at work, perhaps staff meeting or some kind of large committee meeting that pursues laudable yet opaque goals.

At first I was going to create a bingo card but those could look bad if you were to fill them out during the meeting, and I don’t mean to add stress to your lives.

So instead I thought I’d offer this mildly snarky rating quiz, rather like the ones you might find in a women’s magazine.

1. Was food provided at the meeting?
a. Yes, a few cheap candies that throw off your nutritional goals for the day. -1 point
b. Yes, so much that you don’t need lunch, courtesy of your organization. +5 points
c. Yes, a potluck provided thanks to guilt trips on you and your underpaid colleagues. -5 points
d. No. 0 points
e. Not only is there no food, but you are not allowed to bring in a cup of coffee. -10 points

2. Do the same people do all of the talking during the meeting?
a. Yes, 10% of the attendees do 90% of the talking. -1 point
b. No, it varies, and you’ve even spoken up a few times, and you are not even one of those people who always talks. +10 points
c. Yes, and it’s the facilitator of the meeting. -10 points
d. You’ve never noticed because you can’t seem to pay attention. 0 points

3. Could this meeting have been a memo?
a. Yes. 0 points
b. No, a few of the comments by several participants made a difference to what you will be able to accomplish. +10 points
c. No, because someone brought up something the meeting facilitator didn’t know. +5 points

4. If it were possible to record a past meeting and set it up on instant replay, could it substitute for this meeting?
a. Yes. Even the people are the same. -1 point
b. Yes, just different people. -1 point
c. No, but this is the first time you’ve attended this type of meeting so you don’t know why everyone is so cranky. -10 points
d. No, this meeting was different, but in terrifying ways because of a not-so-positive change in management. -5 points
e. No, each meeting covers new ground. Your organization doesn’t use meetings to do anything that could be done more effectively outside of the meetings. +10 points

5. Rate your level of boredom.
a. Bored? Never. You are on the edge of your seat. You can see so many possibilities in this organization. You are inspired. +100 points
b. You’re fine. Wait, what was the question? 0 points
c. You are losing all sensation in your fingertips. -10 points

6. You have shared ideas with the meeting facilitator about how to improve the meetings, and this was the result:
a. The meeting facilitator implemented one or more of your ideas. +10 points
b. The meeting facilitator stared at you in silence, clearly wondering why you are trying to steal their job. -10 points
c. The meeting facilitator agreed those were great ideas. Yet nothing changes in any future meetings. 0 points
d. You are the meeting facilitator, and you resent the tone of this quiz. -10 points

Score:
If your score is below zero, you are in meeting purgatory. Take deep breaths a half hour before the meeting starts, engage in tense-and-relax exercises during the meeting, and chat with a good friend after the meeting.

If your score is 0, your meetings are typical. Sorry about that.

If your score is above 0, my advice is to appreciate what is working while you can.

If your score is over 100, I’m curious where you work. Asking for a friend.

New Year’s Resolutions

It’s a new year, and as those who know me might predict, New Year’s Eve is my favorite holiday because of the chance to make resolutions. I actually set goals as often as every day, every week, and/or every month, so of course I like having one more reason to resolve to do something. I am drawn to the potential of the blank slate that lies ahead. Even though people like my husband are often eager to tell me that no one ever keeps New Year’s resolutions or similarly dire insights, I believe it is never wrong to hope or to resolve. I can’t control how it all will unfold, and I may have to adapt or start over, or even fall down and get up again more than I would like. Yet how inspiring to imagine something better and move towards it.

I have taken a bit longer this year to sort out my resolutions due to some kind of sinus infection, but I think I am ready to make a few commitments.

1. I have a list of several books that it’s high time I read, and I will tackle them this year (and buy them, if possible, from our local bookstore). If I love them, I will share more on here later.

2. I have finished the (I lost count)th revision of my novel set during the 1898 Wilmington race massacre, and I have begun seeking feedback from readers. While I work through that process, I will use the time to research and reflect on how I might seek to publish this book.

3. I will post on this blog once a week. Or maybe an average of once a week, since some weeks will be busier and/or offer more inspiration for blogging.

4. I will post on social media once a week, too. I have had such mixed feelings about social media due to the terrible ways our data is being used and our politics have been subverted. But this article was helpful https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/10/opinion/delete-facebook.html among others that discuss ideas for regulation, something desperately needed even though, like all solutions, it may take time, tweaks, and political courage. Sigh. I also saw a similar sentiment on Hasan Minhaj’s fabulous Patriot Act, which I just now have started to watch. Our checking out of social media won’t change the harmful effect it is having. So we need to explore ways to reclaim it.

5. I will work a few days a week on my YA/SF series. I seem to have lots of choices of next steps for that project, so it may be a bit like tending a garden, just checking in to see what deserves attention right now.

6. My health and fitness goals will chug along as usual. The general theme is to exercise a bit more and eat a little less. Piece of cake, right?