Pandemic Diaries, May 1, 2020

mark@marktreble.com

 

Pandemic Diaries, May 1, 2020

 

As you can see, I’m off probation. Antoine and I split the cost of the furniture, and everything’s back to normal. Every night I’ve had to I’ve had to tell Tommy how bad I was, and then we pick a punishment. I wonder what will happen if I’m bad again? Oh, wow, all of these Instant Messages.

 

Yeah, TMI. What’s this TMFI? Oh, yeah, I get it now.

 

So, here’s another instant message. This comes from Jock Ranger. Let me put it up on the screen.

 

 

 

 

I think I can answer that directly

 

 

 

 

 

Pre-law did a lot for my vocabulary. Speaking of law, there are protests going on in Chicago against the Governor’s lock down orders. They are pretty clearly unconstitutional, and Antoine’s written an excellent article on their disparate impact on people of color. Seems people of color are more likely to belong to a religious congregation than whites, and restrictions on activities at churches and mosques are hitting them harder. They’re also less likely to have jobs they can do over the internet. And they rely on more small businesses than whites for groceries, pharmacies, medical care and so forth, and all those businesses are closed.

 

Governor Einstein issued a new order allowing people to buy plants and to golf. Also, pet groomers can open. The barbershop we use went bankrupt last week, but Tommy and I will take each other in to the pet groomers for haircuts. We’re mammals, after all.

 

Got another Instant Message. I’m gonna put it up on the screen after a couple of edits.

 

 

 

 

 

I gotta make a quick phone call. Yeah, hi, I was just trying to call you. HEY TOMMY, GO TO THE DOOR. So, Deena called you. Good for her. Hi.

 

Everybody, I’d like you to meet my good friend Richard. He’s the Dick this guy is gonna see. In fact, I expect you two to become well-acquainted. Dick is a competitive boxer and the team’s deputy chief of security. He’s also a retired FBI Agent.

 

“Look HoundDog, I’m headed for Halstead and Belmont and will be knocking on your door in about twenty minutes. Stay there, because the local precinct is looking for you, too. We take this stuff seriously. The Minotaurs are a family-friendly organization, all kinds of families. We respect all people, and expect you to do the same.” I thought he was done.

 

“Yes, I’m the light heavyweight division with a lifetime record of 31-4. I’m straight, and married to a woman who’s an MMA fighter. You have nothing to fear from me. I can’t speak for my wife.”

 

Thanks, Richard. We’re gonna have to redo the Instant Messaging instructions.

 

I understand enough science to know that this pandemic is serious, it’s very contagious, but not very harmful to young kids. It’s mostly old people, like Aunt Kamesha. Rick, Uncle Paul’s college roommate, is a surgeon and is working with a bunch of other doctors to try and put out some plain language stuff to explain this thing to common people. He won’t let me or Paul near any of it, doesn’t want it polluted with lawyer language. That probably makes sense.

 

Well, it’s been a good broadcast. I’ll try to remember to get to some of the e-mails next time. Until then, stay safe, vaya con Dios.

 

 

Pandemic Diaries, April 24, 2020

 

mark@marktreble.com

 

Pandemic Diaries, April 24, 2020

 

Me again. Logan’s on probation for now and not allowed to broadcast until the furniture stores open again, or he figures out how to fix what he broke last week. You can send me e-mails if you want about what kind of punishment he’ll get. He was a very bad boy last week.

 

We’re going stir-crazy. Not supposed to go outside, which has to be stupid. I read where the 1918 Spanish flu didn’t start improving until patients were moved outdoors where sunlight could reach them, and they weren’t rebreathing the same germs they’d just coughed out.

 

Our brilliant governor extended the damned stay at home order through the end of May. This shit was supposed to be done with in two weeks. I don’t think anybody knows much about it. Rick, Uncle Paul’s college roommate, turned us on to Medcram, a series of videos that explains the pandemic and associated stuff in something close to layman’s terms. It’s on YouTube, and Deanna watches it with us some times, to help explain the medical terms. I’m gonna show you a short example here.

 

Video

 

Maia told us her mother has taken Plaquenil for years and has never had a problem with it. I guess the controversy is the usual political bullshit.

 

So, we’ve got emails. Abby H. in Chicago writes, Will Logan and you have children? We’ve talked about it, and agree that we’d like to look into fostering a teen first. There are plenty of troubled teens in the system that need help, and I’ve found that most of them respond well to being respected and having some structure in their lives. Not all, but there’s no such thing as “everybody is.” After we’ve got some experience with fostering, we’ll look again at adopting.

 

Marcy W. in Milwaukee writes, Did you and Logan ever have sex with a woman? Ah, I guess I can answer that. Yes, both of us have had sex with women. Now we’ve got a pile of emails coming in. From Queenie in Florida, What are their names? Queenie, none of your business. Ah, here’s one from George in Colorado. Did you like the taste of I’m not going to read the rest of it. And, George, none of your business. OK, last one. From Ray in San Diego. Will you and Logan get married? Ray, I’m sorry to say, it seems we missed you on the invitation list. We’ll be celebrating our first anniversary in about a month.

 

We’ve gotten a lot of emails asking for our predictions for this year. I won’t speak for Logan, but in my opinion, we’ll be lucky to see a season at all. It’s a shame, but nobody can make up his mind about what to do. Play in an empty arena sucks, no two ways about it. Test the players. If we get tested any more, we’re gonna grow permanent Q-tips in our noses. Logan and I have to get tested whenever the team is tested because of our status. We can be called up basically at will, but Logan’s a playmaker and we’ve already got two high-quality playmakers on the team. I’m a good shooting guard, but we’ve got depth in all positions. Hell, even Tree can play shooting guard.

 

Logan has a guy he’s been helping with some insurance stuff, and the guy’s undocumented, as they say. He’s from Central America, and writes that there’s a whole community in Chicago that fall through the cracks. He’s a day laborer, does landscaping, pool installation, fence building kind of shit. There are about twenty of them, and he says they all laugh when told to work from home and just send in their stuff over the internet. He hasn’t been able to get a two by four through the wires yet. If he doesn’t go out every day and look for work, his kids don’t eat. I’m so glad our politicians continue to get paid, and can do their work from home, but not everybody’s like them.

 

Food stores are open, so I go out twice a week with Deanna and we load up on food for the Central Americans. It’s not charity, it’s being human. If Aunt Kamesha hadn’t been there for me and Logan, I don’t know what we’d have done. It’s our turn now. The players in the building, plus me and Logan, take turns providing a credit card. Then, every Tuesday and Friday night, Juan Carlos brings his truck and we load it with what we’ve got. Deanna is teaching me a lot about nutrition, and she is gonna start a free clinic for the uninsured open Saturday morning for kids. Becca’s been working with Rick for several years and knows everything there is to know about ordering medical supplies, and I help with taking test samples and doing some physical therapy with the kids. Logan’s there to translate, and it’s kinda the highlight of our week.

 

Except, of course, for our Friday broadcasts. You guys are great.

 

Pandemic Diaries April 17, 2020

 

mark@marktreble.com

 

The Pandemic Diaries April 17, 2020

Logan here. Tommy promised you’d learn about how we, two white guys, got a black aunt. I’ve asked my brother, Antoine, to join me since he lives in the same building. See, Antoine Jackson moved to our hometown four years ago from New York. He had been in Special Education classes there, not learning much. His Dad’s sister, Kamesha Jackson, told Robert (that’s Antoine’s father) to bring him to Florida, she had some ideas about how to help him. Aunt Kamesha’s a Nurse Practitioner, kind of like a doctor but nicer and less stuck-up.

 So, the first thing she did was test his hearing. He was almost deaf; how was he supposed to learn if he couldn’t hear? Then she got her special friend, Dr. Gil, to test him. Dr. Gil is a shrink and said Antoine was dyslexic. He can’t make sense of written words because the letters get all jumbled up. Tommy and I met Antoine at the beginning of summer and invited him to play basketball with us. For those of you who aren’t still laughing uncontrollably, yes, he’s that Antoine Jackson, number one draft pick in the NBA last year from Duke. Best moves I’ve ever seen. So, Tommy and I got Dr. Gil’s brother, the basketball coach, out to see him.

Aunt Kamesha got an otolaryngology surgeon to fix his hearing, and Dr. Gil taught me and Tommy how to work with him on reading. By the end of the summer he’d gone from first grade level to fourth grade in reading and writing and math. I worked with him during the school year, and Coach had me and Tommy work with him on how our team played ball. By the end of ninth grade he was ahead of his classmates, and joined the basketball team for the rest of high school.

 Our senior year I walked out rather than deal with racist homophobic parents. I came out to them as I was leaving, and was told not to come back. Aunt Kamesha took me in, and said that if I was her nephew’s brother, then she was my aunt. A couple months later Tommy did the same thing. We’ve been family ever since.

 Antoine, you got anything to add?

 “Yeah. Aunt Kamesha likes you and Tommy better than me. I think it’s ‘cause you two help her for free in the clinic, Tommy doing physical therapy and you helping the patients with insurance companies. I guess it’s a good thing I’m better looking than either of you.

“Oww!! That hurts, Logan. See how you like it.”

 SOUNDS OF BREAKING FURNITURE AND GLASS. TWO YOUNG MEN WRESTLING ON THE FLOOR. EVENTUALLY TOMMY COMES IN AND TURNS OFF THE CAMERA.