"...end times"

From my COVID Journals. April 30, 2020. Just read on a friend's page of a lone riderless horse wandering up an empty Westside Street. This seen from a window. Like a scene from that end of the world flick On the Beach. Such are our times.

 

From my COVID Journals. April 26, 2020

I went around the corner to get my meds, and more masks. The delivery guy is staying home...smart. No masks till Friday tho' my meds were there...just in time too. Streets empty. A social distance of four blocks. The Emerald City unlike middle America is staying shut. Very little car traffic. Not even those big Army trucks. Just individuals tooling by. The trees are thinking about budding. The wind whistling the air fresh, but the skies grey...hey this is still Brooklyn.

Comments:

Sahari Welch

NYC got hit hard, it's no wonder people have gotten the message. It's too bad that some other places will have to suffer the consequences of not applying the lesson.

Sidney Smith

It's April 2022 exactly two years later. The Vaccines came. More variants of COVID also came so more vaccines were and are needed. Omicron the third variety was the most contagious. Near all of us got it...including me. However, it was not as deadly. 

New York City has so far lost approx. 42,000 dead three millions infected. The City has endured the equivalent of a hit by a WW2 A-Bomb. Nagasaki lost 39,000 we're neck and neck with them. 

They lost their people in a flash. We took two years. 

No firestorm no radiation. Just a slow burn. Hearing the medical vans every day every night for two years. Brooklyn where I live so far has the most City deaths. 14,000+ 710,000 infections. 

Nationally as of today April 28, 2022.

One Million Twenty Eight Thousand Deaths. 

The vaccine they say cut the deaths that could have happened by two thirds. 

I'm reminded of the owner of a private hospital in the Midwest at the start of this that forbade his nurses from wearing masks. Saying as the then president did that it was all a liberal hoax. That and projections of 200,000 deaths was ridiculous. He died six months later of COVID. Many who believe what their deluded leader told them. Went on to their death beds insisting it was only a flu. They died believing that.

Two new variants have just appeared in France. It is being tracked. 

However, the war in Europe the largest since WW2 has obscured this. World attention is more focused on the likelihood of tactical nukes being turned lose. ...as am I.

We live in an era of chaos economic meltdowns major war and ongoing plague.

As they say "...Sorry to hear that Mrs. Lincoln. Otherwise how was the play?"

From my COVID Journals. April 27, 2020

I was always a solitary person. However, this is very different. This is "The Quiet Earth". I find I have fits of profound sorrow anger boredom confusion, and attempted gluttony. However, I know there is no other way. We have to stand down. Maybe...especially in big cities for a year to 18 months. This till the vaccines will be generally available. A rather long road is still ahead.

Stand fast.

This missive inspired by a post from my friend and artist Andrew Leslie Phillips, The above is a ‘Marr’ which lives in Cobden western Victoria Australia. It’s a shallow volcanic crater.  Now da fun part. Imagine this appearing overnight in the Sheep Meadow of Central Park. Or maybe Brooklyn…I like that idea better. 

If there throw in an exact replica of Stonehenge with the Tree of Knowledge from the Garden of Eden in the middle of it. We’ll get a conspiracy meltdown. I mean more than we already got. We’ll make a fortune on hats and t-shirts. 

Plus, it’s three blocks from my digs. I like it. Btw happy Passover Easter and Ramadan. These in order of appearance from the same basic tradition. Swell, now I have ‘everybody’ mad at me.

 "...another day in the life"

Meant to post this last week but forgot. I forget plenty these days. That’s okay it always comes back. This is a kind of self-editing. You get to reconsider when you remember the stupid stuff you were going to do or say. Unlike this post which I will share anyway. Once upon a time:

I opened my windows. Cool fresh air. Been ill and yucky for a bit. I’ve had more vaccine shots than I can count. So must just be a cold. In those romantic 19th century novels, they mention airing out the sick room. The ‘Velveteen Rabbit’ comes to mind. If nothing else things smell better.

We should always be clean and tidy to face the foe. In this case a cold.

First things first.

Started today w/a hot-hot-hot shower. Made the bed tidied up read emails. Then stared blankly at dark matter. The older we get the more like cats we become. Sleep eat stare be mysterious. Composed stories a few nutty rants. My doc recommended this. Keeps da mind active.

Does he think I'm going gaga?

Walked about the hood. Spring before our eyes. If you just stand there I swear you can see shoots sprout. Wandered home went through my documents. Found a recipe for apple turnovers written by my dad. He was a baker. One should keep the random notes of family and friends. It's part of the story and should be remembered.

Napped watched live streams of folks'n places around the world. The last some soul just quietly wandering the streets of Bordeaux. …in the rain. Loves them rain videos. I miss going to real places. Like when I woke up on Mars that time. See below.

Time drifted and it was evening…how did that happen? Put dinner on. A collaged veggie soup.

I figure some parts of it were bound to work. Btw what they say about colds and liquids is true. Hose ya self-down with juices teas water. Hold the Pepsi.

Granted not a thrilling day…this time. A month ago I wandered into a shoot out. Ten shots and the maniac missed us all. He was as surprised as us. The quality of Brooklyn lunatics like everything else has fallen. Mass shooting all over our republic now. Be brave be smart be kind.

Such was a day in the life. I am heartfully grateful to have had it.

This is a long sermon...pack a lunch.

Was out last evening. Came back alive too. After a warm 80f/26c degree day. Night brought cold rain wind. April is what March was supposed to be March was what December was supposed to be, and February was what April is supposed to be. Got that? ...take notes they'll be a test.

Counterpoint to my demon dreams. Last night a kindly dream. Ponies. All over the damned place. These wandering around in my dream Brooklyn. Streets of grass blocks forested like a Peter Max poster...ask ya Hippie grandma who, and or what he was.

Too bad I don't do Hallmark Cards. This would have made a neat one. A happy dream. Blue skies lazy summer clouds only thing missing was an ice cream truck with Irving my childhood ice cream man driving. I slept and dreamed dreams of dreams.

Living in the land of plagues wars and stupid crap. My unconscious self and or Angels cooked this up to chill me out.

On another matter.

The notion of standup lecturers. Like standup comics but not as funny at least not intentionally. There's the Brit tradition of Speakers Corner.

In New York it's every corner subway station and park. Whether you want to hear them or not. This has mostly been supplanted by demented posting online. Like I'm doing now. It's safer and your kitchen and bathroom are handy.

I used to think of yacking at people on assorted corners.

Could get hit by a pie or beat up but that's part of the fun. One should dress for the role. Tweed. Maybe a bowtie shave and a haircut. This as not to be confused with sweaty cranks screaming about the illuminati and the human DNA they put in hot dogs.

I once considered a "One Person Witness for World Sanity".

Not 'world peace' as I know better. I let the idea go when I realized everyone on earth is insane myself included. Besides with rouge cops out there I could be shot. Black people have been shot dead for holding a loaf of bread. I shudder at my fate for lecturing...especially with a bow tie on.

On a related matter.

Reading. That particular umbilical to eternity. I may have problems. Comprehension above a certain level of complexity. 'Been rummaging about in assorted smarty pants stuff. I found I kept losing my way. Tried less thoughtful realms. Easier, but needed breadcrumbs home even there.

WTF? is this an age thing?

I'm a breath from 72. Are these signs of adventures to come? Perhaps I should have friends read to me. I'd enjoy the company and listening is more comprehensible...at least lately.

One more thing.

While out I went to the Bakery.

This to purchase one as in a 'single' chocolate éclair. Haven't had any in years for health reasons. However, I thought I deserved one just once for being such a reasonable chap. I think we all should have a treat from time to time for being decent. Not remotely saints, but just standup sorts of folks.

So go do something nice for others and ya selves.

Here we are in about 1960.

Top left to right. My Cousin Jimmy then my maternal Grandpa. Lower left myself the future Uncle Sidney. Then my now late Cousin Henry and big brother Johnny. Both Airborne decorated combat vets. Later graduated university went into business. They were good fathers' husbands and a good a cousin and brother. Then dear Cousin Sandy who left us far too early. My dear Cousin Daryl and my good sister Sylvia both very much still on the Earth doing good for others.

Tales from my family. Besides everything else we went to the beach a lot. Summer on the horizon brings this to mind. There in the mid-1950's at Rockaway. Later Jones Beach became our favorite. It was further away. So it was an expedition. Packed for big game. Ma cooked all night dad gassed up the old Buick. We hit the road at 8am got there after 10. Spent the day. Sometimes staying after dark for the fireworks. Then the long trip home. Think to the Moons of Jupiter and back.

Cast of characters: Myself digging my cousin Jimmy my big brother Johnny and my dear little sister Sylvia. I think my dad took the snapshot. We had a ball.

Thanksgiving in my Aunt Geraldine’s 1956 knotty pine finished basement…remember those? Btw there I am the cute kid last on right about to eat an entire pie! …nothing has changed there.

There’s my sister Sylvia who went on to be a scholar, and journalist. She’s on top-right in my mother’s Carmen’s arms. Just to the left of Ma is Aunt Geraldine who was a musician actress, and composer.

Myself, last on lower right. I just yacked on da radio. Family is still waiting for me to get a real job. My dear late brother John opposite me on left. He was a decorated combat vet also later scholar then a successful business person. After the Vietnam War he became an activist for homeless veterans. Commended by two Presidents from both parties for that work.

Time, and the world have taken them all. Except for my sister Sylvia, and myself. We all have history. We all have family. We all every one of us have worthy ancestors.

 

“…there and back again”

My esteemed five-year-old self the future Uncle Sidney. Portrait taken by my Aunt Sybil. This in St. Nicholas Park Harlem 1955. I remember my Uncle George insisted I never touch his Binoculars.

…um well.

I’ve been thinking of my life and times, My family. All that happened. I’ve posted this photo, now colorized, a few times. My family at Smalls Paradise Nightclub Harlem. I think about 1949. I just like looking at it. We have all lived in so many worlds.

From left my mother Carmen she was going to NY City College then. Two of her cousins …I remember them but not their names. …that happens. Someone in the family may know and comment. Center is my Aunt Sybil. I remember she explained what living and dying was. I’d gone to a funeral and was confused and frightened at the quiet drama of it. I couldn’t understand leaving and never coming back.

Aunt Sybil whom we all called 'Mum' said that "...after we pass everything in the world still goes on. It rains snows daddies go to work kids go to school." But what brought it home to me was: "...people will still go to the bathroom." Thanks Mum.

Then Uncle Louie. Uncle had done what boys long ago dreamed of doing. He ran away with a circus…for real. Uncle was also Merchant Marine. He did convoy duty during the war. Was torpedoed yet went back. Later worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. In those days you could bring ya kids in. I had the run of the place. I remember wandering destroyers and aircraft carriers as they were being refitted.

Next Uncle Owen. Lifelong career military. He also taught life lessons. That and how to fight bullies. Next to him my Aunt Bertha whom I remember as very kind sometimes quiet. These worlds still live. They exist within my cousins my sister me the kids their kids and now you.

It lives in those that hear the stories. 

 

“…remembrance of things past”

My family my history. We all have family with worthy ancestors’ histories and hopes. In the center is my Uncle Owen. On his left my Ma Carmen about six years old. On right I’ve lost her name…some in the family that remember may comment. This happens. A familiar face lost name. Child is a cousin or friend of the family. …was never sure. Keep a journal of family and who was close. Portrait taken in 1931 San Francisco by my Grandma Violet Wong.

Comments:

From my sister Sylvia Wong Lewis

That’s Sakaye Ishima. (Sp?) Her Japanese family was sent away to an internment camp. She ‘passed’ as Chinese in our multiethnic family! Her family had a farm next to our grandparents in California. Our family took her into their home & kept her safe as family. And grandpa kept their farm going too! People feared the Japanese people would be killed at the camps. Fast forward 40 years, Sakaye’s children visited me when I lived in Ca. to say, ‘thank you to our family for saving our mother’s life! She was our Mom’s little ‘sister.’

From my cousin Henrietta Cameron-Mann

Wow! I met Sakaye when I was a child when we took a road trip to California. She was living in Los Angeles. A tiny woman with a big car. My father was disdainful of woman drivers. (…an ongoing point of contention, lol.) Sakaye drove us all in her car when we were visiting. I was young (maybe 6 or 7) so I don’t remember much about what we did or where we went.

 “…life is but a dream”

This above is as far back as I personally have photos for. There’s older spread around both parts of the family. I’ve always heard there is a photo of one of my slave ancestors. If I find it, I’ll share it here. This portrait of my maternal family was possibly taken on Formosa in about 1925.

Standing in back was my Great Grandfather Lai Ja. A nationalist involved with 1920’s first Republic of China. Political problems then the Japanese invaded in 1931. So part the family moved to San Francisco.

Speaking of Sino family history. I was told that members of the family fought on both sides during the Chinese Civil War. That, and when my sister Sylvia went to China researching our family. She found that not only did some in our original town remember us but some from our family were armed partisans that fought the Japanese.

Gets better. …or worse.

I also had relatives on both sides of the Korean War. I had older cousins in that conflict. Cousins on ‘both’ sides. Chinese and American cousins in the same war at the same time in opposite waring armies. There’s a Netflix script in that. I love telling my family history. Mind you there’s different versions within different branches. Such is oral history. Bottom line my Mom’s side ended up here in the land of hope and gross contradictions.

Anyway, to Great Grandpa’s left is my Great Grandmother Paulina. On her right is my Grand Uncle Louie. Who as a lad in America ran away with a circus troupe. This was the dream of all boys in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Uncle went and did it for real. Later he joined the Merchant Navy and did Convoy runs during the war.

To his right was my rather strong-willed Grandmother Violet. A very independent tough business person. Despite that she was swell. Loved her. She made me a Mickey Mouse Club hat…with them big ears. That and taught Sylvia…my dear sister and I to bake cookies. She read our palms all the time and we played Chinese checkers.

When we all got TV somewhere in the 50’s. She and I would watch The 'Lawrence Welk Show' together. Sometimes we’d tune to 'My Little Margie'. ...she really liked Gale Storm. She didn’t like westerns though. This because of what they did to the Native folks. She always knew what was right...and what wasn't.

When kids picked on me at school because I was Colored. She always comforted me. However, made the point: "...Never hate back". I mostly haven't or at least have tried not to. When she took care of us, she made sure we said our prayers. I loved her.

Was just out this evening. Came back alive too. After a warm 80f degree day night brought cold rain wind. April is what March was supposed to be March was what December was supposed to be, and February was what April is supposed to be. Got that? ...take notes they'll be a test.

Counterpoint to my demon dreams. Last night a kindly dream. Ponies. All over the damned place. These wandering around in my dream Brooklyn. Streets of grass blocks forested like a Peter Max poster...ask ya Hippie grandma who, and or what he was.

Too bad I don't do Hallmark Cards. This would have made a neat one. A happy dream. Blue skies lazy summer clouds only thing missing was an ice cream truck with Irving my childhood ice cream man driving. I slept in and dreamed dreams of dreams. Living in the land of plagues wars and stupid crap. My unconscious self and or Angels cooked this up to chill me out.

On another matter.

The notion of standup lecturers. Like standup comics but not as funny at least not intentionally. There's the Brit tradition of Speakers Corner. In New York it's every corner subway station and park. Whether you want to hear them or not. This has mostly been supplanted by demented posting online. Like I'm doing now. It's safer and your kitchen and bathroom are handy.

I used to think of yacking at people on assorted corners.

Could get hit by a pie or beat up but that's part of the fun. One should dress for the role. Tweed. Maybe a bowtie shave and a haircut. ...a shower. This as not to be confused with sweaty cranks screaming about the illuminati and the human DNA they put in hot dogs.

I once considered a "One Person Witness for World Sanity".

Not 'world peace' as I know better. I let the idea go when I realized everyone on earth is insane myself included. Besides with rouge cops out there I could be shot. Black people literally have been shot for holding a loaf of bread. I shudder at my fate for lecturing...especially with a bow tie on.

On a related matter.

Reading. That particular umbilical to eternity. I may have problems. Comprehension above a certain level of complexity. 'Been rummaging about in assorted smarty pants stuff. I found I kept losing my way. Tried less thoughtful realms. Easier, but needed breadcrumbs home even there. WTF? is this an age thing? I'm a breath from 72. Are these signs of adventures to come? Perhaps I should have friends read to me. I'd enjoy the company and listening is more comprehensible...at least lately.

One more thing.

While out I went to the Bakery.

This to purchase one as in a 'single' chocolate éclair. Haven't had any in years for health reasons. However, I thought I deserved one just once for being such a reasonable chap.

I think we all should have a treat from time to time for being decent. Not remotely saints, but just standup sorts of folks. So go do something nice for others and ya selves.

The seasons. I wish summer was slightly cooler our fall longer the extremes of winter shorter, but still snow. The "Yule" the Longest Night should have the Northern Lights come as far south as the Gulf Coast. So 'all' can wonder at it.

Spring should be our longest season. Bright blooms warm days cool nights. Summer bright hot joyful. Then perhaps a fifth short season with the aspects of summer, and fall. Call it "Amber".  Colors brisk yet with a mild aura of warmth. The sun, and moon would chase each other through these wonders' day by week by season by year.