I Miss People

A few days ago we received a text from an old friend of Heidi's:

Are you are around this weekend? We sold our house at the lake and we have to go up to pack. DB would like to visit with you. Although she has not been on formal quarantine, her activities have been limited to TikTok in her room and running outside.

DB is Heidi's 16-year-old goddaughter, and every August, we usually spend a week with her and her older sister. Her style of quarantine sounded pretty safe to us, and, so on the last weekend of our summer break, we were thrilled to at last have a real, traditional, summer activity to break up our days.

And the last 24 hours have been a pleasant diversion of cooking and eating and watching Netflix, walking the dog, swimming, painting rocks and solving our most recent murder box.

All the things we've been doing anyway, but with a fresh perspective and another voice. What a difference it makes.

A New Spin

I recently did a little research to find out why in the world military air traffic, especially helicopters, has increased so much lately in the air space directly over my house. The racket was driving me crazy and making me a little paranoid.

I found a perfectly plausible explanation which claimed that in the dramatic decline of commercial air traffic due to the pandemic, many agencies and branches of the service have opted to take advantage of the space to schedule more training. Still! As relieved as I was that it wasn't the beginning of some pre-coupe activity in advance of the election, those choppers are low and really loud, and they circle several times a day.

Finally, in an effort to turn my irritation into a plus, I decided that whenever I hear one of those cursed contraptions I will send a blessing to the universe.

May we all have the time to refine our skills and the patience to find whatever we are searching for.

But it's still tempting to add, Now go away you f-ing helicopters!

Namesake

"I think I'm going to watch the Republican Convention next week," my friend Lincoln told me today. "I don't agree with them, but I just want to see what they're going to say," he continued.

I was impressed, both by his curiosity and his open mind.

Especially since Lincoln's eight.

Change of Seasons

The weather here has taken a rare and most pleasant turn for August-- highs in the low 80s and hardly any humidity at all. The water in the pool is almost cold. Almost. But a few brisk laps will warm a swimmer up nicely. This evening we were on our way home from the pool when we ran into a neighbor and her 8 month old. Babies love Heidi, so as the little one giggled and cooed in his stroller, his mom and I caught up. "Well," she sighed after a little while, "I better get inside and check on my bread." She raised her eyebrows. "It's my first time making homemade. I've got to see how it's rising."

I nodded with complete understanding. "Is it sourdough?" I asked.

"No!" she shrugged. "It's a quick no-knead recipe. But I'm making stew tonight. This weather just makes me think of fall and stew and homemade bread."

Standing there in my wet bathing suit and towel, I found it a little early to pull the trigger on autumn comfort meals, but who am I to judge? Plus? She's from Georgia.

So That's How It's Going to Be?

I woke up at 7:30 for a virtual meeting at 9, ran downstairs, made coffee, jumped in the shower, dressed a little less casually than I have all summer, set up my extended screen monitor, and popped my airpods in, all in plenty of time to join and complete the ice breaker. (Yes, the icebreaker!) I listened, took notes, sent informational emails and texts to colleagues who were not "there", answered questions, read and commented on documents, and otherwise participated fully until almost noon, when the meeting ended, about 30 minutes late.

I sat back, away from the screens, and tried to relax for a few minutes before my next meeting at 1. Rubbing my eyes and ears, I felt a rumbling in my stomach.

It was only then that I realized I had forgotten to eat breakfast.

Madame Replicant

The day was dark and rainy yesterday, just the kind of late summer weather that would ordinarily be an invitation to the movies for us. But since that was out, we closed the curtains and turned on the TV. It took a while to find something blockbustery enough, but in the end we decided on a double feature of Bladerunner, the classic from 1982, (a movie I had seen and loved when it was new) and its sequel from last year, Bladerunner 2049.

We gasped when, after the credits rolled on the first flick (yeah, last century they did those at the beginning of the movie, remember?), it flashed Los Angeles 2019 on the screen. I think I knew we had passed the date Ridley Scott set for his story, but seeing it was something else. And although it was dark and rainy throughout the entire movie, that was really the only thing the world of Bladerunner had in common with our world.

Flying cars, video pay phones, and a huge Pan Am billboard were just the top three buzzers, and only if you accept as a premise of the story the fact that almost everyone fit and able enough had moved off the planet. And pacing? Oh my gosh! It was like all those songs from the 70s and 80s that you are sure are fast enough to add to your workout playlist, but when you actually listen all the way through they are either deleted or moved to the warm up or cool down section. The truth is Bladerunner is like an opera: a dark and slow and melodramatic exploration of humanity.

And, I still liked it. 

Who Was That Masked Man?

When I was a kid watching TV, it always seemed kind of silly when people couldn't recognize the Lone Ranger say, or Zorro, or Robin, or even Batman, just because he was wearing a mask that covered part of his face. The same was true for all sorts of burglars and bank robbers on every sitcom from The Flintstones to I Love Lucy. On those shows, secret identities were always safe; that suspension of disbelief was just part of the price for those 30 minutes of diversion.

These days, everyone is wearing a mask (at least around here). It's required in all inside public places, and it's becoming a lot more common for folks to wear them outside, too. I was wearing my mask this morning in line at the farmers market, when a fellow shopper called my name. "How are you doing?" she asked.

"Pretty good!" I said, but just then the vendor called me forward, and we waved good-bye. As I ordered my produce, I wondered who I had just been talking to. I think it was an English teacher from another middle school in our district, someone I have known slightly for many years, both because we're in the same discipline, but also because we have a mutual friend. I'm not a hundred percent it was her, though, and I'm impressed she recognized me.

Later, we were out for a walk with the dog, unmasked, when a couple of women with face coverings hailed us from down the block. We waved back, a little uncertainly. As they neared us, and began talking, we saw realized that it was a former neighbor and her daughter. We know them pretty well, but we haven't seen them in at least a year, probably two, and it took a few awkward seconds to figure out who they were.

I have a feeling experiences like those two are going to become ever more common in the months ahead, but I also think we're all going to develop a new skill set to more quickly recognize people with only a partial view of their faces. And when that happens?

Super heros and bad guys alike are going to have to rethink their disguises!