This could be the last time...

COVID-19 poses the most serious health threat to me  personally during my lifetime. If I contract it, I well might die. Mary Lou and I are making a thorough and diligent effort to stay clear of the virus but we could still get it. Perhaps I should write another farewell letter (I think I wrote one some years ago) just in case.

Orwellian Times

Fox News covering COVID-19 is like Big Brother during Hate Week. "Liberal hoax, everything is fine, it's completely under control, go to work and party afterwards.... National Emergency! Don't touch anyone! Buy all the toilet paper you can find!..."

Coronavirus dreams

At my civic duty meeting on Thursday (the morning after Trump's Oval Office address to the nation on coronavirus) at the District Court House in Baton Rouge, I was the only one of about 20 people I was working with taking obvious precautions against contracting and spreading coronavirus. I came in with a bottle of hand sanitizer and used it to clean my hands after touching door handles and other objects. I washed my hands thoroughly when feasible and avoided touching anyone except for one handshake with District Attorney Hillar Moore, a respected public servant and professional associate I encountered. I sanitized immediately afterwards. None of the people I worked closely with expressed significant concern when I brought the subject up, explained how the virus is spread through droplets from infected persons coughing and sneezing getting on people and objects, and encouraged them to follow recommended safety steps because of the likelihood of the virus being in this very public environment. Mary Lou and I are in total agreement and have implemented a plan to stock up on food and supplies, wash and sanitize religiously, and implement social distancing by staying at home as much as possible and avoiding crowds. On Friday (yesterday), Trump came back on TV and declared a National Emergency. He has been exposed to infected people and didn't look or sound healthy.

I awoke from an unpleasant dream around 4am. I was with a group of family and friends having dinner together. I remember Conner Tribble, my Ken nephews and some of my girls being there. We talked about going out socially but during the meal, the younger people all moved away to a table on my right and ignored me while engaging in lively interaction. Sometime afterwards I was in a nondescript hotel perhaps in New York City alone planning to go back to my room. It wasn't clear how to get to my floor and I ended up going down a staircase that led to a bar and lounge. I became entangle in decorative ribbons that where stretched across the stairwell as I arrived at the ground floor bar. I felt somewhat embarassed thinking I probably wasn't supposed to use this staircase. Two young women who seemed to be working at the bar approached and started helping me get untangled. One was a light-skinned African-American. The women also sexually molested me during this process which felt pleasant but wasn't really welcome. I wanted to thank and reward the black woman for helping and I asked her name (it was an unfamiliar two syllable name that sounded perhaps like "Karma"). I walked away a bit confused. Then, I realized my wallet was missing with several credit cards and a small amount of cash. I still had my cell phone but then it seemed a new leather jacket I had was also missing. I went back to the small lobby where an older black man was clerking. Two men in Fire Department uniforms were just leaving. I said, "Thank you for your work," as they passed by but they didn't acknowledge me. The clerk was assisting someone else. When he finished and turned to me, I told him my wallet and jacket had been stolen and I wanted to report it to the police. He seemed rather indifferent and I wasn't sure if he had actually called someone. He told me the police would be there in awhile, it wasn't clear how long that might be.

Memphis, Tennessee, March 1

Why no entries the past past month? Perhaps because it didn't occur to me to write? Because I was distracted or preoccupied or dysthmic? All of the above?

I'm sitting in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel next to the fountain where the famous duck promenade will take place in 90 minutes, drinking coffee. We (Mary Lou, Jenny, and Amy M) drove up from Jackson, Mississippi yesterday afternoon after ML and Amy participated in parts of the Blues Marathon races. We toured the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum after the races, a sobering experience. 

Last night, we stayed at ARRIVE, a charming boutique hotel. Today, we toured the National Civil Rights Museum located in the former Lorraine Motel where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968 while standing on the balcony outside Room 306 where he was staying. He was only 39 years old. The museum makes a powerful statement about the ongoing struggle for peace,  opportunity, and justice of people if color in the USA. 

After a delightful lunch at Four Ways soul food restaurant, we visited the Stax Museum of American Soul Music. This is the equally powerful flip side of the Civil Rights Museum, paying tribute to the near Utopian world of Stax Records, where black and white artists and business people worked as a family to produce a rich stream of vibrant,  life-affirming Memphis soul music.