A Journal of the Plague Year 2020–chapter 143

Sunday, September 6

I can report that there are plenty of vacated storefront spaces along once-busy Broadway near 23rd St. and also along Park Avenue South.  Many of these are former “fast casual” food outlets—three spaces in a row along Park Avenue South near 23rd St.

It’s easy to see how you could let your COVID-19 guard down in the city. There seem to be many fewer people around—although since it’s Labor Day weekend, maybe that’s to be expected. Many people are wearing masks—although there were plenty of maskless folks enjoying the late summer sun today in Madison Square Park. 

And why should we arrange to have food delivered given that there’s a well-stocked supermarket right across the street from our apartment? Yesterday I went to the greenmarket and got Italian prune plums for a dessert, then into the Food Emporium for milk, chicken, scallions, and Pecan Sandies.

I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping—not sure just why.  Free-floating anxiety…dislocation? There is more noise here than out in East Hampton, but I was waking early out there, too. Yesterday I got up at around 6 a.m., went out shopping early, then felt crummy for the rest of the day, unable to nap. It’s possible that the body aches and disorientation I experienced were a delayed reaction to the flu shot that I got on Friday. Today I did much better, waking at 7 a.m., but then going back to sleep until nearly 9 a.m. I had one dream that placed a cast of former BusinessWeek characters at a Bridgehampton antique store (one was painting a self-portrait), and another dream involving a dangerously careening, model airplane-size drone. How could any of this be wish fulfillment, Mr. Freud? Am I wishing to be reunited with my former BW colleagues—at a Hampton’s antique store?

More likely it is the “reverse learning” designed to remove batches of “neural garbage” from the brain, as Francis Crick and Graeme Mitchison suggested in a classic Nature magazine article.

While I am rattling on about our comfy diet, many Americans are really suffering as an article in today’s Times Magazine illustrates. It has a short overview of hunger in America since the 1930s, making it clear that any “emergency” shortages are in fact permanent, often-overlooked problems.

Dinner: broiled eggplant slices with tomato sauce and grated parmesan cheese, cold noodles with sesame sauce, and a plum and graham cracker crumble for dessert.

Entertainment: more of Netflix’ Young Wallander.

A Journal of the Plague Year 2020–chapter 142

A croissant shortage in Columbus Circle?

Friday, September 4

Today, I went to my regular doctor for an annual physical and a flu shot. My health seems to be fine.

I arrived a bit early, so I wandered around the Columbus Circle area a bit. At the vast Time Warner Center, all of the luxury Shops at Columbus Circle—H&M, Hugo Boss, Tumi, Michael Kors, etc.—remain closed, with the exception of the large Whole Foods in the basement. I thought things were reopening; guess not.

There are no signs of serious devastation in this area. No evidence of looting or gutted buildings. Everything looks pretty spic ’n’ span—just deserted.

Not long back there were several busy upscale patisseries—Maison Kayser and the like—along Broadway as you approached Columbus Circle. These are now shuttered, providing shelter only for the homeless.

My GP refused to speculate about when a Covid-19 vaccine might be available. He told me that his office was closed for several months and only recently reopened. In the interim, he put in some time doing pandemic duty at a hospital, which sounded pretty awful. Now, he comes into the office three days a week, with another day spent at a separate office.

Looking at my fellow passengers on the Q train and at pedestrians on the street, I would guess that at least 30% had their masks pulled down below their noses. That’s not effective, but I guess people are tired of being responsible.

Once again, the subway trains seem quite clean, uncrowded, and very speedy.

Dinner: chilled cucumber soup, grilled hot dogs, and baked potatoes with sour cream.

Entertainment: Netflix’ Young Wallander, a Swedish crime drama.

A Journal of the Plague Year 2020–chapter 141

Posters urging the wearing of face masks are all over New York City.

Thursday, September 3

Back to my reflections on the Nazis and Trump.

Victor Klemperer, the diarist/author of the Third Reich history I Will Bear Witness, pays particular attention to the Nazis’ characteristically hyperbolic language. He’s quite struck by the carnival-barker-like aspect of the rhetoric, often referring to it as P.T. Barnum-like. (At one point he calls Hitler the Barnum of Hell.)

The Nazi rhetoric, which Klemperer calls Lingua Tertii Inperii or LTI, is often very exaggerated, focusing on vast advances in prosperity or alleged military triumphs. Economic developments are “greater than ever.” The victories over the Soviet Union are said to be “without parallel in history.”

Does the hyperbole seem familiar?

One “bulletin from the East” reports that “nine million are facing one another in a battle whose scale surpasses all historical imagination.” Bialystok was recently “the greatest battle of attrition and annihilation in world history.” Armies of millions have been annihilated, reports allege, “our wildest expectations exceeded.”

Our own Führer, Donald Trump, has a similar linguistic urge. “Huge,” of course, has been one of his most commonly used words. (Then there’s “bigly,” which many commentators mocked.) This year, he has said the economy is “soaring to incredible new heights. Perhaps the greatest economy we’ve had in the history of our country.”

People he likes or wishes to flatter are “incredible,” “amazing,” or “tremendous.” He himself is the greatest President ever—greater than Lincoln or Washington.

“Not that many people know this,” he’ll say—emphasizing his unique understanding of something. “Believe me, believe me,” he may add—perhaps anticipating listeners’ skepticism.

Then come the insults. “Stupid.” “Loser.” Nancy Pelosi is a “moron.” The drug-dependent Joe Biden is “somebody who has lost a step.” Women are “fat pigs,” “slobs,” “dogs,” and “disgusting animals.” Perhaps worst of all, is to be “little,” like “little Marco Rubio.”

Increasingly, Trump seems to be courting the conspiracy-minded QAnon crowd. Joe Biden is controlled by “people that you haven’t heard of.” Well, that lets out George Soros, since plenty of people, including the far-right fringe, have certainly heard of that Open Society advocate and philanthropist. 

“You have anarchists and you have the looters and you have the rioters and you have all types, you have agitators,” Trump recently announced in Kenosha, Wisconsin. He told a Fox News correspondent about a planeload of black clad Antifa militants headed for Washington, D.C.—a mob nobody else seems to know about.

Democrats are all far-left wing socialists. “Even a Kennedy isn’t safe in the new radical left Democrat party,” observed the MAGA man after Senator Ed Markey defeated his primary challenger Joe Kennedy.

I guess Trump got this Red Scare stuff from his former lawyer, Roy Cohn, a onetime crony of right-wing bamboozler Senator Joe McCarthy. But with the U.S.S.R. out of business and the A-bomb widely held, does Red-baiting still scare anybody? Does it command any votes?

Dinner: Capriccio salad and corn on the cob.

Entertainment: The Danish political drama Borgen on Netflix.

A Journal of the Plague Year 2020–chapter 140

Black Lives Matter so wear your mask.

Wednesday, September 2

Things in New York City are better than I expected them to be. So far, I have driven Emily for her test to Weill-Cornell Hospital…and, for technical reasons, she had to go back on a second day via subway.

Each of us has taken the subway a few times and found it to be cleaner than usual and not crowded. Yesterday, I went to see my urologist, which meant taking the 6 train from Union Square to 34th St. And today, I went from Union Square to Grand Central via the 5 train, and—tah-dah!—I got a haircut, the first since February. My barber was quite diplomatic regarding the evidence of haircuts that Emily had given me. 

Most everyone I have seen is wearing a face mask, although some people cheat by pulling the mask down below their noses. Emily says she saw a guy on her train with a mask pulled down below his chin—then, when the train pulled into a station and he left to go outside, he pulled the mask back over his nose and mouth. Dude! Just backwards! The danger lurks in enclosed spaces like train cars, and everyone is less vulnerable outside.

I haven’t really gotten around town that much so far, but I have seen a few signs of “Black Lives Matter” protests. No, there are no burned-out police cars or gutted buildings, but there is a very nice BLM mural on the east side of Union Square park. 

The Wednesday farmers’ market at Union Square also seemed pretty much normal. The farm stands are much as I remember them but socially distanced. Patrons are advised that they must use hand sanitizer before handling any produce. Everyone has masks and many people have gloves. I got beefsteak tomatoes, peaches, Gala apples, and whole-grain health bread.

As expected, we did have an avalanche of mail waiting for us. That includes lots of already-paid bills that can be shredded. A bunch of magazines that I have already read in electronic form. Other odds and ends. And, oh: The “Economic Impact Payment Card” with its CARES Act direct economic assistance of $2,400. A letter from our President reports that “America will triumph yet again—and rise to new heights of greatness.” One must activate the card, just as you would a new credit card, and then either transfer the funds to a bank account or use the card as one would a debit card.

There were three pieces of mail concerning the payment, one from Trump, one from the Treasury Dept. saying that we may have overlooked the card. And finally and most curiously, one from “Money Network Cardholder Services” of Omaha, Nebraska, looking for all the world like some junk-mail scam that you’d just as well throw in the circular file.. THIS IS THE CARD. They couldn’t have disguised it better.

Dinner: Turkey chili and a lettuce, tomato, and radish salad.

Entertainment: episodes of Netflix’ Spanish-language mystery Alta Mare.