PareaGrooveBlog

Saturday was Halloween, Sunday was also a holiday for some. Many of us enjoyed costumed picnics out in Central Park, and our houses and apartment buildings were decorated with creepy stuff. The inclination to celebrate, to mark our years with scheduled festivity, was alive and well, just masked. However, the night’s conversation didn’t touch so much on our fun times, we again focused on our anxiety about the election. Just before the Zoom call that day a number of Trump supporters had blocked New Jersey highways to traffic for hours, just to make trouble. Other Trumpers in trucks pushed a Biden campaign bus off the highway in Texas the day before. So wee talked about this. We talked about how those of us who ever worked for the United Nations had received notices warning them to avoid crowds and how to behave if they encountered a protest in the City, something they said they never expected to receive in the United States, these were warnings those posted in third world countries received. We talked about how so many of the buildings around us are being boarded up in anticipation of violence. I did an unofficial poll, and everyone who showed up that night had already voted early, either through mail in or through waiting on long line s at the poll, because of the concerns there might be harassment at the polls. We talked about our concerns over how if Trump wins we would have our taxes raised, and whether if he didn’t he would step down, Trump had his lawyers ready to fight the loss. Though someone noted Biden probably had some good lawyers lined up as well. We talked about why Trumpers adore him so much, how it was cult-like, co-dependent, even addictive, somehow filling some need for him these people have beyond presidential leadership. We talked about COVID and the increased lockdown in Europe. We worried that bars in other states like Florida were causing upticks in cases because they weren’t requiring masks. We worried whether our hospitals would be able to handle another increase in COVID. We talked about which masks we thought were best. We did talk about some other things, a few other things, outside what is causing collective anxiety. We remembered Sean Connery who just passed. We discussed the latest Saturday Night Live episode, and how most people liked it, Jim Carrey’s Biden has improved and they had some nice tributes to NYC. We talked about Scarlett Johansen and her marriage to SNL’s Colin Jost. We talked about other shows we’ve been watching, and we talked about the new Borat movie, and those of us who saw it encouraged those of us who didn’t to definitely see it. A couple of regulars got to see an exhibit about the rock promoter Bill Graham at the New York Historical Society and another talked about her improving tennis game. Another told us she just had an operation on her shoulder, now that elective surgeries feel safer to have. She told us how they don’t stitch so much but use a special surgical glue, and internally they removed her hefty surgical hardware which had set off alarms in airports, requiring her to carry a doctor’s note that no, she wasn’t carrying a gun, and replaced it with smaller fasteners. Someone noted “so now you’re held together with staples and glue, well done.” I suggested maybe add some duct tape to the list and she’d be good to go.

I’m lumping these together in part because of blogging blah-ing, but also because both Grooves were similar, concerned predominantly with pre-election jitters. We were concerned about whether the second (supposed to be third) Presidential Debate would happen (it did) and then we didn’t talk about it much after the fact. We did talk a lot about our concerns for the election, and our hope that everything will go smoothly, that all votes will be counted. Most of us planned to vote early in New York or had already voted by mail. We all are a bit anxious about Election Day itself and prefer to avoid it if possible, though for some of us Zooming in from outside NY it’s not. We talked about Trump’s rudeness at the 60 Minutes interview and Pence’s COVID infected staff, and the super spreader events that were the campaign rallies and we talked about the second Borat movie and how it caught out Giuliani. Definitely, current events were the main topic of conversation, and cause for anxiety among us. We again talked about the uptick in crime in the city, and how since I helped bring the Guardian Angels to some of our uptown neighborhoods one our regulars has not only joined the group but become a patrol leader for them, which brought us some collective pride. We did lighten up a bit with memories of Sea Monkeys, those little dried shrimp sold on the back of ancient comic books, and which of us had fallen for the scam that these tiny creepy-crawlies were at all anthropomorphic, which they were definitely not, and one of us proudly shared some memories of her WWII hero grandfather who walked with a cane from a war wound, but never let it get him down, and was tough as nails with anyone who might cross him. We ended by talking a bit about Harry & Meghan and agreeing that although they pop up in the news having moved to our shores we really didn’t care all that much about the topic, we have way too much going on in our own country right now to waste much mind space on another country’s gossip.

This was one of more unusual PareaGroove experiences. We held our Zoom on a Monday since for some of us it was a three day weekend (and for most of us every day is still Blursday). As people rolled in we talked about the Vice President debate the week before. Then we talked about watching the The Great Gatsby films and a quote from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book that seems to be popping up lately in connection with the Trumps and their cronies: “They were careless people Tom and Daisy -they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

We talked about the Amy Coney Barrett hearings and the reasons why Republicans were so adverse to the Affordable Care Act. We talked about Canada and their socialized medicine and higher taxes and tax free shopping days that Canadians planned around. This fortuitously reminded us that Tuesday was Amazon Prime Day. We talked more about what a constitutional strict constructionalist or originalist is and then about patriarchal values of good old boy networks and their misogyny. That segued into breast implants and how some of these bros buy them for their girlfriends, and which men on the call liked them or preferred au natural. We talked about political correctness, racism and a skit on that Saturday’s Saturday Night Live that touched on this with old school Mafia parlance, as well as about the VP Debate skit which highlighted the fly on Pence’s head, which some liked, some felt fell flat.

From here we veered from our otherwise “normal” conversation (in quotes because what actually is normal these days?) One of our regulars took this day to introduce us to her newly acquired little rescue dog. Her hopes to prop him up adorably on her lap in her Zoom box were dashed when the dog spotted a giant cockroach running around her apartment and made that his determined focus. We watched as he chased it and her behind him, all of us squeamishly ew-ing and shrieking along. We had the full view of the dog chasing it around the bed, under the bed, into the bathroom and out again. We shared our own icky cockroach stories and suggestions of how to kill it. Hairspray and poison were out because of the dog. One suggested “forking it” as she had done to a mouse running across her table on a distant Greek island holiday. Forking (obviously) and stamping it were ruled out as too hard, the critter was too fast. So we collectively decided the best way was to put a cup on it, to capture and release, or destroy. After some searching our roach pursuer secured a plastic take-out container for this purpose. We then watched as she chased the bug around her room, her little dog in equal pursuit. Upon a good suggestion, I pulled up the “Mission Impossible” theme song and played is as she did this. All eyes were on her effort. After much effort she successfully got it, and then was left with the dilemmas as to what to do next. She set up a second Zoom box with her phone camera so we could have a close-up of the container covered bug on the floor. The consensus then was to slip a piece of cardboard under the container and remove it that way. But this wasn’t so easily done as the bug was bouncing around under the container. We urged her to keep a book on it in case it knocked the container over as we all had a healthy respect for the power and intelligence of cockroaches. Eventually she did get a piece of cardboard under the bug, the sturdy back of a legal pad. Then the next subject discussed was what to do with the bug. We let her have a hiatus at this point, while her little dog very pointedly guarded the bug. We thought about maybe saving it for her house cleaner to deal with two days hence, but decided that wasn’t very fair. We thought about throwing it out the window, but posited the possibilities of it flying back in or crawling back up her arm (ew). We discussed walking it outside, but that required trips down a long hallway, an elevator and through a lobby. I suggested flushing it, but it perhaps being the water bug version of the cockroach family, some were afraid it might somehow survive and crawl out. Noting our collective focus on the cockroach capture, someone very aptly commented “This is what happens when Broadway isn’t open.”

We then suggested calling a regular of ours, then not on the call, who lived close to her and who might come over to help. She did call him and muted herself on the Zoom while she had an extensive conversation with him. We returned to talking about other critter experiences, one woman now living in a woodsy area talked about a chipmunk who visited her ever day, getting inside somehow, and about having to chase deer from her bird feeders, also daily. We talked about raccoons in the suburbs where some of us grew up and in Central Park which is near where a lot of us live. I told them how I found a tree in the Park where two days in a row I’ve seen a family of eight or more racoons assembled, always at around 7:00 pm. A small gathering would form around the tree, at a respectful distance, of course, with all of them, with their masked faces, looking back at us with our masked faces videoing and taking pictures of them. We talked about rabies and vaccinating wild animals, like racoons, in New York. We discussed possible bug repellants to protect against cockroaches and ants and even bees. Vinegar and peppermint and lemon juice and even dryer sheets were suggestions. And then we saw our friend disappear a bit from the screen with the phone still pressed to her ear. She came back and triumphantly declared The Bug had been Flushed. We were all very happy. Her dog was less so, and we watched him pace in and out of the bathroom looking for his tiny icky playmate. After a bit he gave up and crawled into a sleepy ball on the ottoman next to her chair.

With the cockroach chapter closed we progressed back to other topics. We talked about high heels, which no one is wearing now, and how in the Before Times we dealt with banging them up on city streets and getting them stuck in lawns at weddings, outdoor events, and even the occasional horse derby. We reminisced about work wear back when we went to offices, one woman sharing an anecdote about when she discovered that certain bathing suits were more appropriate than others for work trips. She was in finance when younger so we discussed the “finance bro” culture again, and how before the Me Too movement harassment was considered par for the course. We talked about men bothering women in the office, in the subway, and in clubs, and some shared some experiences. We went from there to talking about many of the functional alcoholics we knew, especially back when drinking at work functions and after work with colleagues was a mainstay. Then we talked about when we learned to hold our alcohol and manage ourselves in those milieu. We returned to talking about the very cute dog snoozing by our friend and then about her concerns about having to neuter him. We argued over whether she should (I’m against it, he’s survived until the age of three already so why bother). And then we ended on talking about eunuchs and what we think we know about them, which wasn’t much since most of us only know of them through Game of Thrones.

We moved from Wednesday to Tuesday this week since Wednesday the Vice Presidential debate between Kamala Harris and Mike Pence would be holding our attention. Our conversation veered from our fears of the winter onset and getting colds and going back to the office and posible super spreading events to Cuomo’s crackdowns on local hot spot neighborhoods in NYC and to early voting opportunity, versus mail-in voting. We talked about Midwestern culture versus Northeastern culture and how our prioritization of values differ, such as kindness and discretion versus directness and expression. We shared our alarm over the president’s quick COVID recovery, dubious to many of us, and his dictator-y and mask-less presentation on the balcony of the White House to announce said recovery. We wondered whether Biden actually did get plastic surgery and discussed how obviously Kelly Anne very much did, as well as her COVID diagnosis. We talked about which papers we were reading, the more conservative NY Post, the more liberal Washington Post, and even the National Enquirer which sometimes breaks stories. It was a quick mellow, typically random talk. It felt like we were in suspension, on the cusp of this new season.

In conjunction with the New York Peace Museum we hosted another guest speaker referred to us by a museum board member. As this speaker was heralding from Germany, she insisted we hold our talk earlier in the day, even requested a morning meeting. I explained to her that the morning was impossible and even the afternoon was challenging because the weather was fantastic and people were anxious to spend as much time outdoors as possible now that we’re all anticipating with a dark sense of dread the onset of winter and the limitation to our outdoor socializing. I warned her that we would get a small group, and sure enough we did. As it turned out this was just as well.

At the top of the Zoom our guest informed us that she was presenting “something new” which she “hadn’t tried before” and she was busily establishing her “energy.” As a couple regulars rolled in I started chatting about what was going on, as I usually do, especially because I like to allow about twenty minutes before beginning a talk so latecomers can enjoy it from the start. The big news of the weekend was that our president had contracted COVID at what turned out to be super spreader events in the Rose Garden and at a NJ fundraiser. I asked a regular, who is a physician, about his opinion about how sick the president might be. Our guest promptly shut this conversation down admonishing me that she had already “created the energy” and we couldn’t have negative talk about sickness or anything because that would impede her effort for positivity. This of course irritated me. However, I attempted to accommodate by asking her questions about herself, where she’s from, what she plans to talk about, etc. She shut that down too, saying “all would be revealed” during her talk. It was all I could do to not roll my eyes. So I said fine, just start your talk, do your thing, and if people log on midway let’s just hope they’re quiet about it.

Perhaps because she noticed I wasn’t convinced by her argument that we needed to maintain an “uplifted energy” she hesitated to begin. She didn’t exactly ask why, but she seemed curious as to why I was not swayed by her enthusiasm to manage the “energy” and direction of the Zoom in the direction she saw fit. I found myself defending PareaGroove in a way that surprised me, it lead to me defining the importance of this endeavor to me and our loyal crew, explicitly, in a way I hadn’t done so before. Those on the call nodded quietly as I did.

I explained to her that we started PareaGroove to combat the stress of quarantine isolation. I told her that in the last six months we found that sharing the current news, the information we had about what was happening with the pandemic, both the medical and political aspects, and about what was happening with our government and the seeming threat to our democracy, and about the protests in the street, about our lives during these strange times, and now what with our president getting sick and about what could possibly be a security threat to our country, was actually stress-relieving, rather than stressful. Addressing the very large elephants in all our rooms right now, together, has proven to be very helpful and supportive. I advised her that to minimize this experience was insulting. She responded by thanking me for explaining the “current socio-economic” situation in our country. Again, I congratulated myself for not rolling my eyes.

Her talk, given assertively and passionately, was fundamentally a recitation of her biography, with occasional new-agey, flourishes. She began by fluttering her hands in the camera and asking “do you know what this is?” Of course we didn’t. Satisfied that she could elucidate us she explained that this was the “Egyptian Lotus.” Do you know what the Egyptian Lotus is? she asked. She then explained, I think, since it was a tad vague and buried in a lot of extra words, that it symbolized a group coming together, maybe even like our group. She then talked about a film she made about Bedouin women in Egypt, where she was born. She explained making her film endangered the lives of these women as they would be killed if it were discovered they revealed their faces. She then reiterated that she is a spiritual and brave woman for doing her work, which I think included making a film or two and then attending an international studies graduate program. At graduate school she helped a group of jazz musicians from otherwise warring countries to perform in concerts around Africa and she told us, as if revealing a fascinating new discovery, that music is a great way to bring cultures together. It sounded like a great project, but not a great revelation. She told us that all these experiences led her to understand that “the only thing” she can call herself is “a human being . . . this is the most difficult thing.” And somehow from this she came to the term “holographic being,” which for me elicited images of celebrity hologram concerts, novelty hologram toys, and that little chip on our credit cards that seems to have moving shapes. She then told us that on a vacation to Luxor she discovered the “Akashic Records,” and that this was very significant to her and important to her project, but then refused to talk about it further or answer any questions about this, as somehow it was too important to share with us. Again, my eyes had to be aggressively restrained from rolling. She was happier telling us her history, of growing up in Egypt as the daughter of an artist, “imagine, a child listening under her father’s table,” and leaving her country at age twenty since it wasn’t really so good for women there back in the 1980s and to “imagine how challenging that was, a virtual child with no experience.” I have the utmost respect for people who have the courage to pick up and start over in a new land with a new language. But still, all the “I” sentences were getting to me.

Our regulars who showed are a polite, intelligent, and arguably compassionate bunch. They gingerly found subjects about which she was willing to speak and asked questions she enjoyed answering. One shared her experience and thoughts about meeting people on her travels and how that she found this was a great way to grow oneself, and she drew our guest out on that topic for quite a bit. In the course of the travel conversation I mentioned I had been to Cairo as a student back when she had just left and had been appalled by how rude the men in the street were to me, so I could only imagine how they might be to their own women. She then blurted something to the effect of “oh please, of course, my uncle, my brother, all bothered me. ” I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but from that moment I was able to find that nugget of compassion for her indulgence that eluded me before. So I backed down and let the others take over the remainder of our time with their polite questions. She also seemed to relax after that moment of personal revelation. When it seemed the group had run out of questions I suggested we speak about current events and invited her to stay or drop off as she wished. She stayed for quite a bit longer than I would have anticipated listening to our conversation about our current goings on, and only dropped off when it became too late to keep her eyes open.

Today we had an unusual Groove, we had a birthday party for one of our regulars. Last Wednesday L mentioned that it was birthday the following Wednesday. Obviously, a hint was dropped. So, I picked it up and suggested we make the next week a birthday party along with the regularly scheduled Wednesday Groove. I told him I would share the link so he could put up his own invitation. I got the nudge to create the invitation earlier than I usually do one, which is rarely more than a day or two ahead of a Zoom, so that he could do his own invitation with the Zoom link. Creating an early invitation worked this week since I didn’t do an invitation for a Sunday Groove, which we skipped because it was the eve of Yom Kippur and many of us regulars would be watching our virtual Kol Nidre services. This in and of itself turned out to be quite the 2020 phenomenon. Personally, I hopped around a few virtual services at synagogues throughout the City which I’d been curious to check out in real life but never did. They all even provided links to prayer books to download and follow along. It was fun to “visit” different services in different styles and I even briefly checked out a Los Angeles synagogue I’d heard about in the afternoon.

The Birthday Boy’s invitation ended up garnering more than 50 yeses and maybes so I understood this would be my biggest Zoom yet. I figured with six months practice under my belt I could handle it. Before the Zoom I asked L if he wanted me to “moderate” or if he wanted to run with it himself. He had been on enough Grooves to know what I do, how I keep people from running with the mic and how I try to bring out those who might veer toward the shy end of the spectrum so everyone can feel part of the conversation. He said sure, do it, even though I mentioned I might cut him off at times as he was often a mic runner, though I of course promised to give him a little extra leeway being it was His Day.

The “party” worked out even better than I’d hoped. It helped that his group of friends was very nice and really did want to celebrate him. We had more than 50 people come from across the country, from Colorado, California, Minnesota, Texas, Massachusetts, and all over New Jersey and New York State. His mother came, his sister’s family and several cousins, and friends from all walks of his life. They certainly came prepared – they created “Happy Birthday L” and Party Balloon Zoom backdrops, they wore party hats and festive tiaras, and they came with drinks in hand to toast the Birthday Boy. I decided to use the technique I’d used and seen used at my alumni Zooms early in the pandemic, but to be a bit more casual with it. I said I would check in with everyone individually so they would have a chance to say a bit about themselves and say happy birthday to L. Someone mentioned it sounded work-like, but it didn’t turn out that way. I asked people where they were located right now and how they knew L. They’d speak a bit and then L would jump in with a little anecdote and start a conversation, and then some others would join the talk. It felt natural, like a small breakout in a party, and since we’re not using breakout rooms everyone could be a part of it passively. After a minute or two I’d gently cut off the conversation and move to the next person. This all worked pretty smoothly, with some exceptions, which no one seemed to mind, and I knew not to be annoyingly rigid about it all. His mother, a vivacious, beautiful woman, wasn’t up for playing by the rules so she jumped in and talked, interrupted several people, cooed over his other family members, and interacted “out of order” with some of his friends who had been in his life since elementary school and since high school, whom she of course knew. L’s Mom pointed out she had known one woman on the call since she was the age of her 5 year old son, who cutely presented himself periodically in her Zoom box, dashing away when he saw he had been noticed. L’s Mom said she needed to hop off early so I interrupted our little intros to sing “Happy Birthday.” I came prepared with a cupcake I’d found tucked in the back of the freezer from long ago, I stuck a candle in it, and waved it in front of computer camera eye while we sang a most disjointed “Happy Birthday” song.

After we hit everyone up for their where they are right now’s and how they know L’s, we had a momentary lag. So I circled back to a few people and asked more questions about what they had said, while stopping to introduce the latecomers and to ask them their where they are right now’s and how they know L’s. I asked about the wildfires some of the West Coasters have been dealing with. Someone from outside Denver talked about encroaching fires in her area and the orange skies she was seeing. The Californians talked about not seeing the sun for a few days because of the ash, but shrugged it off, saying they’d seen worse. They were dealing with a heat wave, but shrugged that off too, preferring to revel in the fact they had real palm trees swaying in their backgrounds rather than the now cliche virtual backdrops of some Zoomers. One woman showed off the two cats sharing her box, one on her lap, the other seemingly on her head, sitting behind her on the chair. L’s nephew played with his very large and very happy Golden Retriever, his computer camera somehow bouncing along with them as they roughhoused. I asked those with little kids poking their heads into their boxes how the virtual learning was going. We were privy to a very cute first grader’s opinion about her first day of school, as well as her parents’ opinions, and who also somewhat sheepishly explained the kid’s reference to the cafeteria was actually them taking advantage of some extra offered after school babysitting so they could have a little more time to themselves. A couple on the call were practicing therapists and they talked about how the uptick of telehealth was affecting their practices. We heard about new hobbies developed during COVID, one person having started producing YouTube cooking tutorials for traditional Jewish home cooking (brisket and kugel!) In circling back and asking one person how her quarantine went she told us about how she had suffered terrible appendicitis and thankfully got herself to the hospital to receive in-the-nick-of-time surgery during the heart of the pandemic when too many people were dangerously not going in for the medical help they needed because of their fear of catching COVID in the hospitals. All these “call backs” on people stimulated more conversation, rather than asking the group a broad question like “anyone have an interesting quarantine experience” which I had tried briefly at first and didn’t work. With more than 40 at one time calling on people and keeping on top of the latecomers meant scrolling between two pages and keeping it to a smaller feel, which took a little more effort than the typically one-page PareaGrooves, but I picked up the rhythm soon enough and it went smoothly.

The one topic I agreed with L to really try to avoid was politics. The presidential debate was last night, and it was alarming, to say the least. We successfully avoided the topic until the very end when someone sarcastically said “well Trump saved football,” which was one of his more ridiculous debate claims. That launched into everyone talking at once about the debate, and it was almost like a bit of a relief. Obviously, it was in the back of everyone’s mind and people wanted to talk about it. I let that run for maybe two minutes, then stopped it. I said, no, we promised, no politics. Someone said “but L was talking about it too!” And I said “it’s L’s birthday, he can talk politics if he wants to.” But that was the end of the politics talk.

I’d promised to keep the party two hours, and as people were starting to drop off I suggested we end it. L made a lovely last statement about how he was grateful to all his friends and family who came. He had been gracious throughout, thanking everyone individually for coming after their introductions. I got a nice thank you too, which was sweet. I asked everyone to say a last happy birthday to him and those who were left on the call most enthusiastically did. People really seemed to enjoy themselves. I had suggested L record it. I only thought to record it myself toward the end. I’m not as practiced at remembering to record. I hope his recording took. It was memorable, and as I pointed out on the call, might be a “thing” going forward. We may begin to “hybrid” our lives like the kids are with their schools this year. This Zoom party allowed L to see friends and family he hadn’t seen in years because they live too far away or are too absorbed with the responsibilities of raising a young family to make it to a pub party in Manhattan. I found this format worked, people got a chance to say “hello” and there was also unstructured conversation that almost mimicked a real life party. Nothing replaces real life, and the virtual interaction sometimes leaves us yearning for the real thing. Maybe this yearning will lead to more effort to visit from far away once we’re really free and safe to do so. In any case, although not perfect, this perpetuates community and relationship. I may look into helping others to do these parties. After six months of doing this very new thing I have picked up some skills!

Sunday, September 20

We lost Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg on Friday, Sept. 18. This in itself was terrible, but it also unleashed further divide in the country with the Republicans pushing to get a new judge into the Supreme Court before the election. So, of course, we started with this. The unease and sense of dread among us was apparent. We had a practicing attorney on the Zoom who works on human rights cases. She expressed her deep concern over our country’s immediate future, why we weren’t doing more to preserve our safety and democracy. We heard from her how the courts just recently opened having been closed during the quarantine and how backed up they are, and how filing online is challenging and slow, and how the courts are trying to include virtual conferences and hearings. We talked about how the being in the court buildings is arguably dangerous for the workers, three New York judges died of COVID and more than 100 people who worked in the courts came down with the virus. We talked about the more than 60 rabbis who died, and even more pastors and priests, and how we crossed the 200,000 mark for US deaths. It was a dark start to the call, though that was warranted.

Then we lightened up a bit. The weekend was the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashana, so we talked about our celebrations in these strange times, some watched virtual services, some had real life visits and dinners, and some let it pass this year. We talked about how beautiful it is on the East End beaches now, and how one of us enjoyed a Jewish ceremony of “tashlich” where you throw bread crumbs into water as a symbol of throwing your sins away, and how this turned into a seagull free-for-all as the birds swooped in to enjoy the crumbs before the ocean claimed them. We wondered about RBG’s burial since her death happened on a holiday and the Sabbath and whether they would choose a religious or State ceremony. Somehow we moved from funerals to circumcision, and, with a doctor on the call, we could discuss details otherwise not available. We then talked about puppies, fun bouncy puppies, and how there seem to be so many of them now in our neighborhoods. People must be grabbing them up for company in lonely apartments for fear of future quarantine at worst, and maybe further remote working and learning at best. We talked about buying dogs, how one of us hoped to herself. And then we talked about spotting whales off the beach, as they seem to be appearing more frequently. Our Hamptons resident explained this is because they have more fish available to them since laws now prohibit overfishing the whales’ favorites. She also told us a great story of swimming with whales, which she got to do in French Polynesia. The huge animals are aware of the people swimming among them and do their best to not crush them. Another told a story of watching killer whales off a boat and the magnificence of seeing the pod jump in unison. We looked up the odd instance where a Sea World trainer was killed by an orca, apparently by mistake, it had been intrigued by her pony tail and jumped at it, and unfortunately, her. And then we circled back to the Notorious RBG and ended in time so those of us who wanted could catch the specially re-broadcast CNN documentary about her tremendous life.

Wednesday, Sept 23, 2020

We hit the Fall Equinox Sept 22, crossing into the third season of this pandemic inspired endeavor. We began our typically meandering chat with a short discussion about how this time has been hitting us. Thankfully, we’re mostly all okay. But many of us are having trouble getting stuff done, even the littlest things, with many of us reporting a weird combination of ennui and stress. We talked about making lists for ourselves which might help productivity, or might create guilt for not accomplishing the listed necessities, and about Zoom fatigue. Then we worried about the upcoming election and the issues with the Electoral College. One of us needs to renew her passport and she’s worried about the complications involved considering the slower post office and inability to apply in person now. We talked about the hazards of flying, even masked, and about the necessity of a flu shot now, and who among our friends had had COVID. We wondered about eating out and wearing coats under the tents between the plexiglass walls, maybe with heat lamps, with many of us still preferring to eat outside rather than inside, though it will soon be permitted. We noticed the weather was cooling and the humidity lower and how some of our allergies were acting up. We talked about our birthdays and the pubs and bars where we used to celebrate with big lists of guests and the welcomed crashers. We talked about writing postcards to get the vote out and how the maskless rallies were frightening. We talked again about the rise in crime in the city, and how the Broken Windows policy which though a bit harsh made sense, so volunteer crews in the city have taken upon themselves to clean up the garbage in our neighborhoods to encourage better behavior. We acknowledged among ourselves that we in NY are not anarchists as we’re accused, we want our neighborhoods to be safe and nice and we’re keeping COVID down as a whole, glaring, and being glared at if maskless in the streets. We talked about Duke and basketball and the tallest people we’ve known, and dated. We women among us wandered into talking about men with beards, and dating them. All the dating talk motivated a gent to actively return the conversation to the more benign topic of flu shots. We then talked about random ailments, one of us has a “boot” on her leg for a sprained foot and someone else is wrestling with tennis elbow for all the socially distanced tennis she’s playing. We talked about election signs on lawns and those of us currently in the suburbs piped in about their experience of this in their neighborhoods. We talked about historical political leanings in other countries, the fear of the Left among Venezuelans and Cubans because of their experience with Communism, what are the differences between Socialism and Communism and Fascism, and also Royalists, like among the Greeks. We talked a bit more about Greece, as one of us has intimate knowledge of of the country, and of their education, which is more rigorous, and only a few can qualify for university, the others have to go to vocational school, and we discussed the merits of this (the Greeks refer to some of our more accessible universities as “monkey college” which I thought was hysterical). Apparently there is also a Palm Tree Plague in Greece caused by a bug that came over from Africa. We talked about the upcoming presidential debate and which candidate was taller (Trump is, though Biden looks taller we decided). We talked about some non-fiction to read as one of us needs an idea for her online book club. Someone recommended “Yes, Chef” about about Marcus Samuelsson. I shared that I had enjoyed a course by him specially prepared for a charity dinner at the Harlem JCC, and the speech he gave at the event, as well as a meals many of us were lucky to enjoy at Acquavit and more recently at Red Rooster. And, we ended discussing Elijah Cummings’s timely book “We Are Better Than This.”

Our first Zoom was on March 15 just as NYC was closing for quarantine. It was begun in anticipation of the anxiety quarantine would cause so many of us solo apartment dwellers, and others. And here we are, still going. As someone mentioned, maybe that we’re six months into this isn’t necessarily something to celebrate. But actually I think it is. A core group of people continue to come and enjoy good conversation, interesting speakers, and to support each other in our varied anxieties. We’ve gathered a group of engaged, polite, intelligent and basically nice people. They recognize that by showing up they’re not just doing it to enjoy themselves, they are helping to provide a quorum, a minyan, so that people can feel they are walking into a friendly, full “room.” So, again we had a good group show up, some who hadn’t come for a while.

We talked about how six months flew in a weird way, with time seeming to drag while at the same time flying. We talked about masks and how some of us are amassing a nice collection of them We talked about aromatherapy and how it’s a shame the American flag got co-opted by Trump supporters. We talked about watching cute animal videos to soothe ourselves, noting one about a horse reserve, one about a pet bat. We talked about community, about taking breaks from Zoom, about vaccines, about flu shots, and strangely about rashes. We discussed voting again, how the opening of schools is bringing in some COVID, and about Tik Tok and the White House’s attempt to shut the app. We rambled a bit about favorite actors and sports figures. And as we had a whiskey expert on the call we talked about booze, about our palates and about our food and drink preferences and about perfumes and scents. All a bit lighter than our past call and much welcomed for that.

Again, we had a good group, which is nice since I’m starting the events later to fit in all the almost normal events people are enjoying now that we’re nearly opened. I was out and about “in real life” over the weekend, mostly masked and outdoors, but at least out. I attended two not really distanced but outside picnics in the park over the weekend. I also was absolutely delighted to catch the last hour of a guerilla performance of “As You Like It” being performed in a random corner of Central Park by a young, clever company who call themselves “Idle Playthings.” The cast was really good, very funny, and they used well thought out minimal costumes, and even their masks, to dramatic effect. As I saw someone comment on Facebook after getting to visit the newly opened Metropolitan Museum of Art, at only 25% capacity but still open, “culture is like oxygen” and she said she felt she had been “suffocating” from the lack of it during the closings. We who live in NYC are definitely spoiled for all the formerly omnipresent cultural options, but many of us live her on purpose for that reason and to not be able to enjoy it was hard. Of course, it’s hard on all the art makers who make a living from making art as well as all the people who work in support functions for culture and audiences. But for us audience, it’s hard too. And to grab just a bit of theater really did feel like a breath of fresh air after choking on smog for weeks. And, in the evening, I caught what is now apparently a regular Sunday night occurrence, a stand-up comedy show “under a tree” in yet another random corner in Central Park. Many of the comics who performed referred to the challenge of performing under said tree, but they did their darnedest and put on a good show.

I got home in time for the PareaGroove and people showed up in fine form. We talked about the unemployment benefits some of us are getting and whether we will get another boost. We talked about watching the US Open on TV without the audience. Some of us talked about how they are finally getting around to purging the accumulated excess in our apartments. We talked about how our choices in clothes has changed now that we spend so much time at home. We discussed in-door dining again, it’s a big deal for New Yorkers and the City economy. We talked a bit about the onset of art in the opening and how we hope for more. One of us heard from her window the loud roar of the seeming nightly drag races of souped up ATV cars and motorcycles. I can’t hear them from my apartment fortunately, but I saw them racing up Columbus Ave. Saturday night, all with flashing LED lights outlining their vehicles. We wondered how they all knew about where and when to come to be annoying to us all. We talked about Bob Woodward and his book “Rage” and about his interviews and how he seemed desperate to almost warn us about how really bad things are in the White House. We talked about what it meant to be liberal or conservative. We talked about the new revelation that the Trump administration stole $4 million from the fund for FDNY first responders. We worried about the UN and Trump’s threat to leave it or at least defund it and what that would mean to the world. We talked about the Latino vote and about socialism and about Bloomberg giving $100 million to the Florida Democrats to help in the election. We discussed travel restrictions and Giuliani and Fauci and voting polls, and we talked about what efforts we could make to help people get to the polls and vote. The conversation was somewhat stressful raising some catastrophic anxiety, so we ended it after about ninety minutes so people, myself included, could retreat to self soothing TV and snacks.

Monday night was Labor Day and I booked a PareaGroove for the night, but with only two maybe RSVPs I postponed it to Wednesday. It seemed I got the tech wrong somehow with re-using the original invite and only invited myself to our rebooked Wednesday meeting. When this was fortunately called to my attention through a phone call from someone I usually see on a Zoom, like why are you calling me? we have a Zoom now? What? I wasn’t invited! Yes, you were…oh, oops. So I sent out an invite a few minutes after it was meant to start. It was great to see how many people showed up on a moment’s notice. We got a good sized group.

We talked about the normal top of mind stuff, starting with our job searches, as many of us have lost our jobs and work opportunities since the quarantine, and job searches and Zoom interviews have proven a bit of a challenge. We talked about what opening meant for us and whether to shop in person now that we can or on line because it’s safer. We talked about our walks in the parks which we’re continuing from the quarantine habit, what it must mean for the kids to have classes in the park, and how we’re supposed to dress for the Zooms, the kids for classes, us for work. We talked about dealing with the uncomfortable loudness of some very minor sounds on the Zooms, the tech opps-es, like my invite, and our mic challenges, and we wondered how the kids and their teachers will deal with these tech hiccups if we’re finding we’re having so much trouble. We talked about old television shows and our memories of our favorites and how some tropes from them were coming back. We worried about what open dining will look like in the winter. We commented on how our sunsets of late have been spectacular, and wondered if it were due to pollution or climate change. We worried about the post office, how it’s slowing down, how they’re cutting hours, and how that will affect voting. We talked about what school lunches might look like with the new precautions and reminisced about our school lunches, both good and bad. We moved on to politics and our concern with AG Barr and his associations with weird right wing religious groups, we talked about religious conspiracies and the threat of authoritarianism. That led to talks about Freemasons and Dungeons & Dragons and the Catholic Information Center. We worried about how the government took over the defense of E Jean Carrol’s accusation of defamation over her “alleged” rape by the president. We talked about the relationship with Russia our country seems to have, and about pardons and how that will affect the peaceful transition of power.

Then we talked about air fryers (I have a new one) and cooking and old diets like South Beach and the Atkins. Memories led to talking about Broadway, what we’re doing with our time now that we’re not seeing so many shows and concerts, and how many of us are playing tennis. Then we talked about the Tooth Fairy and how she’s gifting $20s now while we got dollar bills. We talked about teaching competition to kids, tracking parents for COVID, and the ethics of keeping records with doctors offices. We worried again about what indoor dinging would mean and marveled how masks are almost prohibited in some instances like the Sturgis motorcycle gathering which led to a lot of COVID cases, and we worried that maybe the cases are higher, they’re not being reported. So back to the COVID concerns in the end of the evening.