A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 8

Week 8 of our new reality. . . . 

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29

5:56 p.m. — I didn’t do a particularly long walk today; just a perambulation to and about the south end of downtown.

My excuse was to pick up some eye-moisturizing ointment for Pixie, since we’d just run out. But I shot many photos along my Portland Walking Tours route, and of course anything else that caught my interest.

Our Lady of Fifth Avenue (better known as “Portlandia”) is shown below at about 3:30 p.m., still looking strong, proud, and welcoming to all after more than 34 years in position on the Portland Building between Madison and Main.

8:05 p.m. — One of the surprises of my walk this afternoon was to run across a billboard on SW Kelly between Macadam/Ross Island Bridge and SW Arthur that has a friend of mine on it.

Two years ago, I appeared with the smiling personage on the left in a goofy horror-spoof web series called “Stalked,” written and directed by, and starring her mother, Erin Lehn. I played an array of characters in that show, from an ostensibly slow-witted hick who sings the “Banana Splits” theme to himself, to a trick-or-treating Dad, and eventually a psychopathic serial killer.

Here’s one of the episodes in which we all appeared.

THURSDAY, APRIL 30

12:01 p.m. — “Grimm” reunion is LIVE NOW.

12:55 p.m. — What a lovely bunch of folks!

Here’s a screen shot from today’s “Grimm” reunion on WizardWorld Virtual Experiences at 12 noon, April 30, 2020.

Some of my favorite moments:

— Thanking the show’s creators, David Greenwalt and Jim and Lynn Kouf, Reggie Lee said, “They could have killed us at any time” . . . to which Sasha Roiz added, “God knows, they tried!”

— Asked about plot and character twists that surprised them, Roiz replied, “To me, I didn’t see anything coming…” and shortly thereafter Silas Weir Mitchell added, “I think that’s called making it up as you go along.”

— Lee flashed his prop Portland Police badge and said, “It’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card in Portland.”

— When the cast were asked whether they are involved in or have heard about the potential for a spinoff show or reunion feature film, Claire Coffey said wryly, “I think we talk about it every day. I’m pretty sure there’s no schedule that can’t be cleared…. You can’t say we aren’t trying, is all I’ll say.”

FRIDAY, MAY 1

Today, our home address officially changed, at the behest of the U.S. Postal Service.

For 90 years, Portland has long been divided into five “quadrants”: the normal Northwest, Northeast, Southwest (which contains the downtown), Southeast, and “North Portland” — a kind of pie-slice of territory that points south from the Columbia River to the center of town (and is basically what I walked through during my long walk on April 27).

I don’t know the history of all this, but the short explanation is that some of the street addresses in my neighborhood start with a zero — such as Lewis and Clark College, where my niece Helena has been attending school the past several years, whose official address has been 0615 SW Palatine Hill Road.

Apparently, those zeros created confusion for 9-1-1 calls and fire department response, so we are changing to South Portland, a new pie slice that will point north to downtown. Personally, the numbers of our street address won’t change, but we have to drop the “W” of “SW Bond Avenue,” which will create a heckuva hassle over one single letter.

Our neighborhood association put together a helpful checklist of all the IDs and services that might require an address change.

12:18 a.m. — Currently reading: Fiasco, the American military adventure in Iraq by Thomas E Ricks, and Prussian Blue, the twelfth Bernie Gunther mystery by Philip Kerr.

10:59 a.m. — Carole and I were nonplused to see our most recent credit card statement classifies an order of wine from Montinore Estate (sale! free delivery!) as “Entertainment.”

We regard it as “Sustenance.”

SATURDAY, MAY 2

11:20 a.m. — This morning we walked all the way to the Farmers Market on the Portland State University campus in the rain. Well, some of us did, anyway. . . . 

12:35 p.m. — If I hadn’t been able to see an enlargement of the new Facebook “caring” emoji, I would have taken it for someone trying to stanch the bleeding from a bad chest wound.

5:28 p.m. — The congregation that genuflects together . . . infects together.

5:52 p.m. — Aw, shoot. The marvelous novel I’m reading just had its protagonist make a reference to “Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color” . . . in October 1956.

Sorry, but I don’t think that’s gonna fly.

12:21 a.m. — One thing I’ll grant about using a Kindle:
Reading while flossing and brushing my teeth (which I’ve done for decades) is a lot easier from the “holding open the book and turning the pages” standpoint.

SUNDAY, MAY 3

1:04 p.m. — In recent years, conservatives and libertarians have become fond of referring to political opponents who criticize our country’s failings as “whiners,” “snowflakes,” and worse.

But since the various types of shutdowns in response to the pandemic, we’ve seen who the real “wusses” are. Conditions could have been so much worse, in spite of the hue and cry.

I’m grateful, for example, that trash pickups have proceeded largely without a hitch. I think back to the photos from the New York garbage strikes of 1968, 1975, 1977, and even 2011.

Consider how much greater a challenge stay-at-home would have been for so many of us before 1990 . . . without the Internet for communication, video entertainment, instant download of dozens of books, orders of home delivery of groceries and restaurant meals (not to mention jigsaw puzzles!), and being able to see and talk with loved ones face-to-face in real time.

I don’t recall hearing about any recent, substantial shutdowns in web service comparable to regional collapses of telephone coverage or electrical power during weather disasters or geological catastrophes (even mass shootings), either.

Apart from undoubted poor delivery of medical care to certain sectors (nursing homes, minority neighborhoods, people living on the streets), I suspect most of the loud complaints online are coming from people who are just not accustomed to being alone with their own head.

For years, I’ve contended that the obsessive attention given to mobiles, ear buds, and binge consumption of visual entertainment is a symptom of an inability to deal with one’s own unmediated thoughts, and ultimately, mortality.

As Pascal wrote, more than 350 years ago, “I have often said that the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he doesn’t know how to sit quietly in his room.” (Other translations from the French render it as “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”)

11:21 p.m. — Since I have plenty of used books I’ve read and am happy to pass on . . . and even used books I haven’t read that I might never get around to . . . and I need to keep getting exercise, fresh air, and sunlight on a regular basis . . . I’ve decided to make a project of visiting Little Free Libraries across the city of Portland on foot, taking a photo of each (possibly even a selfie with each!), and turning in books I’m ready to get rid of in exchange for anything the a looks appealing.

Or just leaving one of mine if nothing’s appealing.

Here are the two Little Free Libraries I visited today that are closest to my home during a long walk into the West Hills above our neighborhood: via SW Kelly and Bancroft to 6th, Gaines, and Campus Drive . . . then down a nifty trail below the Casey Eye Institute to Lair Hill.

Basically, it was a long, meandering loop around the Veteran’s Administration Medical Center (which has its own Little Free Library I didn’t manage to locate, so I’ll have to go back up there eventually).

Over time, I’ll push farther out into Southwest, Southeast, and North and Northeast Portland. It’s sort of a mission.

MONDAY, MAY 4

4:48 p.m. — Just got back from today’s Little Free Library outing to the Brooklyn neighborhood of Southeast Portland. Two out of four of the libraries were closed and emptied because of the pandemic, so my batting average for today was .500.

Total average for books exchanged at Little Free Libraries in Portland: four out of seven, or 57 percent.

6:57 p.m. — You know the folks who declare we ought to end stay-at-home because they believe “herd immunity” is an inevitable nationwide condition we shouldn’t be striving to avoid?

Why don’t they put their bodies where their mouths are and hold the hands of the sick and dying, since the families of the latter are barred from easing their final hours in person?
We could even pay the loud-mouths to do this, since they’re obsessed with getting back to work and so certain big, bad covid-19 monster won’t harm them.

They might even develop a little more empathy in the process of making themselves useful.

TUESDAY, MAY 5

12:17 p.m. — It’s been hilarious to witness Sweden undergo a magical transformation to become the darling of American conservatives and libertarians the past month.

Anybody remember what U.S. Republicans used to say about that nation — for years on end, until just a few weeks ago?

— “They pay outrageous taxes!”

— “Socialized medicine is substandard; nobody there likes it!”
— “They have the highest rates of suicide in the world!”
— “We don’t want socialism here!”

Suddenly, the Swedes have become the model for the rest of the world because they applied “no government lockdown” to their citizens.

You merely have to overlook all the other variables (for example, that more than 50 percent of Swedish citizens live alone — that is, in single-person households . . . Swedes are well accustomed to staying home from work at the slightest sign of a cough or headache . . . and up to a third of them can work remotely, and do) and forget the fact that they’re a buncha damn socialists . . . which might also just bear some relation to their willingness to deal sensibly with covid-19. . . . 

1:43 p.m. — Mornings are definitely the time to do long walks now that we’re having dry and warm Oregon weather.
I hit five different Little Free Libraries east of yesterday’s trio in Brooklyn. I took the #9 bus from Moody/Meade at the west end of the Tilikum Crossing bridge to SE 39th (aka Cesar Chavez Boulevard) and Powell, and walked a very meandering route home.

There were two libraries on SE Kelly and Tibbets, north of Powell off 39th and 33rd, respectively. . . .
. . . then a long trot south along 33rd to the third library beyond SE Gladstone, just short of Kenilworth Park (where I recalled reading Harlan Ellison’s Jack-the-Ripper-in-a-city-of-the-future story, “The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World,” to my new girlfriend in the summer of 1991 (although she says she remembers it was his post-apocalyptic story, “A Boy and His Dog,” but in any case, she married me anyway) . . . 

 . . . then over to 28th Place north of SE Francis (after stopping by to join the crowd of gawkers in front of the blossoming agave at SE 28th and Gladstone) where there are two Little Free Libraries on opposite sides of the street along the same block . . . 

. . . and then a long trek home on the side streets just north of Powell to the Ross Island Bridge and home to South Waterfront.

Below is a lonely Portland Streetcar trolley, viewed from the Ross Island Bridge at about 11 a.m., and likely carrying no more than 4 or 5 passengers at most as it makes its way across the Tilikum Crossing bridge.

Normally, I might be working aboard this or another one of these trains in one of my part-time jobs as a customer service representative for Portland Streetcar, but the management is NOT encouraging us to do so at this point.

*       *       *       *       *

Had enough? If not, here’s “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 7”

(which discussed an online video chat with my family, my brother’s remote musical video collaborations, my long walk from the northern border of the city, birthday wishes to my wife, a happy quarantine coincidence, and my discovery of Little Free Libraries)

Prior to that, I posted “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 6”

(covering the yellow fever epidemic that almost killed Alexander Hamilton, my post-lockdown pleasure reading, invasions by Russian bots, capitulation to the Kindle, more long walks about the city, the distinction between an “excuse” and a “reason,” and an outing by car to run errands and finish a video voiceover job)

Before that came “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 5”

(which includes long walks through NE and SE Portland, tactics for maneuvering through the streets in mask and gloves, the current plague of faux certainties, and visits to the Rose City Book Pub and Reed College campus)

You could also check out “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 4”

(for my exhausting attempts to obtain unemployment benefits, first long walks about SW and SE Portland and what I learned from them, idiocy from the governor of Georgia, my online reading with the cast of my March play production of a new short play by the lead actor, and how it’s all Obama’s fault)

See “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 3”

(a visit on foot to a remarkably deserted downtown Portland, my analysis of the initial patterns of coronavirus testing and spread in Oregon and major metro counties, several dismissals of the worthless Incumbent, 

Go to “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 2”

(the remarkably dry and beautiful weather that has brightened our self-isolation, a library books pile-up, a visit to the Portland Farmers Market after lockdown, the Whole Foods “early elders shopping hour,” a hike up the hills to visit my best friend from grade school, and memories of Nevil Shute’s On the Beach)

Read “A Journal of the Plague Year . . . Week 1”

(the weird hand-washing behavior of men, the shutdown of Portland arts events, and the run on guns and toilet paper)