Whose face? THAT face.

I guess I can honestly say that I am not, as the West Hollywood government commands, being a "maskhole". I have dutifully worn my mask to the extent that I go out at all any more. 

The hook upon which wearing masks is being successfully enforced is that most decent people don't want to take any chance that by doing or failing to do something they will hurt another human being.  The mantra is that science supports the absolute necessity to comply. But of course, SCIENCE does no such thing. The SCIENT-ISTS currently in vogue say so. Those that say otherwise, also quite a large group of people who only have credibility if they speak "right truth", are suppressed, "fact" checked, excised, fired and otherwise mocked and ridden out of town on a figurative rail, complete with psychological tar and feathers. 

The fact that those holding us in face prison or home lockdown once held precisely the same opinion as those of us who think mask wearing is not about public health. But that opinion did not serve the needs of politics, or manipulation or control. 

I have read and heard of people who seem to have tested positive for Covid, or had symptoms, who swear that they have held to the letter of the rules and regulations. I believe them. To me, that is further evidence that wearing masks and locking down and wreaking physical and psychological havoc on the society and its people is not merely futile, but persecutory. I know of at least one child, about age 8, who is now a full obsessive compulsive about germs. She wasn't before the mandates for our health.

We are now more than half a year past the time we were told, with great authority and reliance on the "right" scientists, these restrictions would become unnecessary as we "flattened the curve". I know, you say, "But the curve is not flattened!"  That was entirely predictable as we were told even back when this all started, in contravention to the promise of loosened restrictions, that in the fall, there would be a "second wave".  It's the fall. And the curve is winding up again. Lots of "positive" cases. What positive cases means is a malleable term. The fact that 99 percent of those who get the virus survive, and even 95 percent of those who are in risk categories, is irrelevant. It's flu season now too, so, it's looking like "flattening the curve" may be devoutly wished for but is an impossible dream. That is, unless certain social conditions are met in the opinion of those who are holding the political strings. 

What's gotten me on this yet again? Well, it was this West Hollywood campaign. How did I find out about it? Well, I was taking one of my furloughs into the outside world in my car, on my way to the doctor, I think, as provided by the usual terms of house arrest, and I saw a colorful banner, a person wearing a mask. It said, "Cover THAT Face!" Not something personal, like "Cover YOUR face!" or "Let's all cover OUR faces!" But THAT. One face is the same as another, and it is not animate or human, it is THAT. Nothing to distinguish us. One human being is the same as another. 

I know. Many of you don't agree. You are still of the opinion that this is all for our good. You think this is just temporary. You must think it is only temporary, or you would be in a state of panic for the reality, which is that when they say, "This is the new normal", they mean it, and what some totalitarian countries couldn't do by arms, has been done by our own countrymen, to cover us up, to shut us up (literally since you can't hear anyone in a mask), and to make sure that OUR faces are not seen one by another and that our interactions are kept quite, quite separate. 

Don't get me on the fact the Churches are still closed on the inside. . . .another levelling of humanity by fellow humans with the will to power, successfully engaging in the deconstruction of our society. 

I note in looking at the link below, that it says "Cover-your-face". Somewhere in the marketing, someone got the idea to make it THAT face. Yes. Be anonymous. Be compliant. 

People like me are having a particularly hard time. We have always bowed to authority. But authority no longer has the underpinning of anything resembling the objective good. It is now a matter of whatever the persons or groups who have power FEEL or WANT to accomplish. You believe it's about  health? In a way, it is. It's about THEIR health and well being. And if you get in their way, THAT anonymous face and the person it once signified will be sacrificed for the newly defined good. 

My dad, dead now nearly 13 years, predicted that our society was on its way to a catastrophe, though he couldn't possibly have conceived this particular scenario. He knew who would author the catastrophe. He used to say, "I won't be here for what happens, but I feel sorry for you, who will be." 

I didn't think it was possible to happen this fast. But here we are. So, you, "Cover THAT face!" And await further instructions.  

 https://wehotimes.com/dont-be-a-maskhole-weho-launches-cover-your-face-and-keep-your-space-outdoor-campaign/

Perceptions from A Photograph

The only remaining member of my mother and father's immediate family is my mother's youngest sister, Terri, who is on her way to being age 94. We speak fairly frequently though she lives on the East Coast. She is fortunate that her nieces on her late husband's side are so very attentive to her. She still, officially, lives in Manhattan but in the last year, those nieces and their extended family have managed to get her to spend more time with them at their homes. She just came back from Florida with them and insisted on being returned for at least a few days to her high rise building smack in the middle of New York. She is slowly going through her things and deciding what she needs to keep and what can be discarded. 

When we talked recently, she was reminding me that my late mother, who died long ago at the age of 48, had been her matron of honor at her wedding in the late 1940s. She mentioned a photograph she had on her dresser of my mother, and father, from the wedding day. I have been in that room, but frankly, I had forgotten about the fact I probably had seen it on one of my visits in the past. 

My aunt has no familiarity, at all, of things technological. She barely manages an answering machine. But she asked her grand nephew, who, when she does insist on being in her apartment, stays with her during the week, if he could send me the photograph. 

It is actually one of the few of my mother and father together. I may have one or two in my memorabilia. I suppose that is largely because my father was the one who usually took pictures, and he even was a bit of a creative in that regard. Many he took of my mother when they were engaged and just shortly after they married circa 1946. They were lovely, even innocently sensual shots of a young woman who dreamed of being a model but never quite had the, let's call it. . ."oomph" to persist. 

I want to veer a little here. I used to be into psychology. I actually was both a client and an official student of the practice. I worked as a trainee therapist for about two years before I gave up the idea of switching to the profession from the law. There is this not very scientific test used, well it was, who knows if it is any longer, called the Thematic Apperception Test. A series of pictures is given to a patient/client. The patient is asked to describe, to tell a story about the pictures. It gives a therapist or test examiner an idea of how the person responds, or thinks about life, or about the people around him or her. It tells you something about personalities and dispositions when two people see the same picture and one describes a happy scene or can interpret the scene with positive nuance (maybe this, or maybe that) and the other describes a depressive one, or even a tragic one. Or a third sees nothing in particular at all.

Well, I guess my photo brought to mind the thematic apperception test. Now, of course, if this were a real test for me, the picture would not be of anyone or any scene with which I would be familiar. There wouldn't be a context in which to judge the circumstances and the state of mind of the people so as to be a kind of tabula rasa for the state of mind of the person doing the interpretation in this case, me. So, the analogy is not quite solid. I knew these two individuals, one better than the other, clearly, as I was 20 when my mother died and 54 when my father did. My mother was an enigma. My father was as well, but there was more time to unravel his pattern, and he left behind a lot of writing that complements my own experience and the stories of others. So, admittedly, my interpretation of this photograph is inevitably colored by my own observations of these two unique individuals to whom I owe my existence and my relatively successful navigation of life thus far, with its commensurate (to all of us) bumps and detours. One thing the picture reminded me of--I miss them, both. Each is half of me. 

Something has occurred to me as I have charted the course of this entry.

Let's do a little TAT with those of you who take a look, if you are of a mind. If you like, in whatever fora you choose, tell me what you see. A few of you know me a long time, and will know how I might or might not interpret the scene and the people. But try to stick to the photo itself and tell me the story of these people as you see it. And then, in a couple of days, I will offer further thoughts. 

Here is a teaser about my father, that is a fact. He is wearing a ring. I never, in life, saw him wear a ring. When he died, he had no rings. There is a story about that ring. I have to do a close up and see what kind of ring it might be. It might be a college ring because he had just graduated on the GI bill. The people we think we know are fascinating. Even the people we don't know. 

Maybe one day this photograph will be in some antique shop and someone will stop by it and make up a story of the people in it long gone. That is a kind of nice earthly immortality. 

The Illusion of Our Importance

As most of you know, I am a person who believes in God, and I believe, also that God has a mission for each of us within the world. I would dare say that we are, individually, and as the communal fruit of His creation, important--to Him and for His purposes and to cultivate our good for His glory. 

But how do we view our importance? We view it in very earthly terms, with little regard, it seems to me, for the eschatological, and even less for the God who is the arbiter of that destiny. 

Just in case it seems that I think myself outside of the illusion of my earthly importance, please note for the record that I have as many illusions as the next self-deceiver. 

What put me in mind of this, today? I had a doctor's appointment, a follow-up to my recent tests. It had been scheduled significantly in advance. I complained perhaps on these very pages how I become angry at the fact that when I need to speak to my medical providers, I have to go through a maze of technology and guardians of that technology, the nurses, the physician's assistants, the office staff, usually with what to my mind seems to my mind a level of dismissal. But when it is time for THE appointment, I receive a call or a text or both, reminding me not only of the appointment but the requirements that append thereto--to confirm, or to timely cancel, with a very firm reminder that the failure to appear will end in a fee, and a further reminder to make my appearance at least fifteen minutes before my appointment, for reasons that have never been clear to me, since I always wait those fifteen minutes. And, in the days of covid, upon arrival, I am not merely to wear a mask, but to be screened for fever and to fill out a form regarding where I have been and how I have been feeling prior to my arrival. Although many of the waiting room chairs are marked with prohibitions for seating, so that patients aren't  sitting right on top of one another, I do notice that the room is pretty full. In the narrow hallways lined with doctor offices and exam rooms, it seems to me that we pass shoulder to shoulder. 

We are all terrified of passing the little blue line before the reception desk if there is someone already at the reception desk. 

A woman takes her place at one of the two windows to announce her presence for her appointment. She is very urgent, even demanding. "I am late, but please tell doctor so and so that I am here. Otherwise he will be mad at me." The receptionist nods but offers no particular response. She, like I, knows that doctor so and so, is not looking for an announcement, and that he is not urgent about whether or not she has appeared, late or otherwise.  The woman repeats her command. It seems to make her feel better even if the reception desk does nothing about it. She sits. And immediately, she makes a call, to the downstairs pharmacy. Of course, patients are asked not to make phone calls in the reception area. However, this lady clearly feels she has dispensation. I am amazed at the ability of some people to draw all attention to themselves as if some revelation will be forthcoming. She has her conversation, all the while seeming to check her person for. . . .injury, rash? I couldn't quite tell, except that her health was it seems a matter of global significance. 

I had been in a bad mood, as mostly I always am, when it comes to doctor's offices and their regulations as against their sometimes cavalier attitudes toward patient questions and concerns, and as a patient myself, I was amused at the fact that like this lady I was watching, clearly I thought that my health must be of global imporance, to be in such a mood. 

As usual, a staff person called me, mangling my name.

Something in me turned. What was the point of my acting the role of sourpuss? I have been praying to the Lord to abandon myself to whatever is His Will for my life, to let go of my need to control, particularly as the world, small and large around me is completely out of control. I was going to do something that doesn't come naturally to me, not try to make myself seen, to give in to my illusion of importance, and just, as someone I know says, "Go with the flow." 

As usual a nurse came in and took blood pressure  and asked about my medications. And then she left. The doctor came in and asked about my medications and took my blood pressure. He was pleased about the working of my stent. I am pleased about the working of my stent. For further precaution against covid, my blood would be taken in that room instead of in their lab. I didn't mention the fact that people seem to be all over the place in relatively small spaces. I asked for a couple of referrals which were given to me at warp speed after my blood tests. "See you in February," said the doctor.

There were no appointments available in February, as the doctor is booked up continuously. But I did get the second week of March. 

I have had some people coming and going to do a repair of my terrace. They started last Tuesday, removed the entire flooring of the terrace except for the wood foundation, and have done nothing since. Today, they showed up when I was leaving for my appointment. They can work with me gone. When I came back, nothing had been done. I have no idea as I write whether they will be  back tomorrow. 

I was still of a "letting go" state of mind. Good. My blood pressure didn't rise and once again I did not give in to the illusion of my importance. The earthly realm couldn't care less about my illusions.