Tag Archives: coronavirus

Steady Cam.

2000 Years to Christmas

Try to stand still, man. You’re shaking the picture. It looks like there’s an earthquake going on, like Big Green meets the last days of Pompeii. That was a volcano? Okay, so …. Big Green meets the big one. Or Big Green bites the big one. Now that’s more believable.

Oh, hi, Big Green fans. Sure, we know you’re not “fans”, exactly … just casual acquaintances who drop by every once in a while to see what’s on fire at the mill this time around. We’ll take it! Sorry to disappoint – there’s nothing on fire at the moment. I’m, of course, not counting the perpetual St. Elmo’s fire that our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee has had burning in his lab since the day he got here. (And no, I don’t mean he has a VHS tape of the movie running in perpetuity – he actually has a plasma corona discharge simulator in his lab … running in perpetuity. I think he likes the glow.) No, we’re having a normal week for once. Though our normal is, well, not particularly normal. More nermal than normal. Nothing blew up, that’s basically it.

As you know, we’ve been trying – like many other bands – to adjust to the virtual marketplace in this era of Coronavirus shutdowns and social distancing. And like many bands from a previous era, we’re having more than our share of difficulties. Doing performances on Zoom, for instance, is less than optimal, even for musicians who have some facility with digital technologies. For people like us, it’s just hopeless, and we have had to resort to other, less frequently used technologies, like long cardboard tubes, or old-style megaphones, or just hiring someone to carry our tunes around in a bucket. (Fact is, nobody in this town could carry a tune in a bucket to save his or her life.) For people used to just standing on a stage and letting the music happen, for better or for worse, this pandemic is …. well …. lethal!

Can you try to get both me AND the piano into the shot ... Scorcese?

This week, though, we stumbled upon another option. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has a body cam built into him. I think his inventor, Mitch Macaphee, was imagining he could sell Marvin to the police for use as a ludicrous robo-cop of some sort, but that didn’t pan out. Anyhow, Marvin can be our camera operator, and because he’s set up for wi-fi, we can route him into our hacked modem, push the signal up to the main fiber hub, and send our music out to thousands of potential listeners. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the capacity to record anything, so we have to do all of our songs live. And damn it, the fucker just can’t stand still. Every time we count something in, he starts rolling around. I think he’s trying to pull off a crane shot or something. We keep telling him to stop watching music videos so much, but these are COVID times, and frankly, he’s got little else to do.

Okay, so when you see a performance from us, if it looks a little shaky, that’s NOT because we live in a fault zone. It’s artistry at work, my friends. Cinematic artistry.

Hidden victims.

FYI , I’m currently home and recovering after minor surgery in this time of COVID-19 lockdown. The highlight of yesterday was a call from the hospital telling me that I had been exposed to someone who tested positive with the virus – presumably a staffer who interacted with me the previous week. I had been interacting cautiously with people since my release last Saturday, including a visit to another health care provider, so they needed to be notified. When I was in hospital, I had asked about getting tested, and they put me off. This is not working. They should be testing everybody, and they’re not even testing the most likely carriers.

What’s most concerning, though, is the toll this is very likely taking among the most vulnerable, particularly residents of nursing homes. I don’t know about how these homes are run in other communities. What I can say, based on personal experience, is that in my neck of the woods, people in nursing homes die all the time of respiratory illness. When my mom was in an institution, it seemed clear that the expectation was that she would just get ill and die one day, and that there wasn’t much they were going to do about it. The times my mom got seriously ill, we pulled her out and put her in the hospital for proper care, which she got. But other folks with less attentive families who would catch the viruses that regularly rip through those places like the angel of death would just expire in their rooms without fanfare. From what I could see, neither the required skills, nor technologies, nor effort would be put into saving them. One day, they would just be gone.

In the context of that reality, I just can’t imagine how many of these folks are being lost to COVID. Would we even know? Do they differentiate between the Coronavirus and other respiratory illnesses, once an elderly resident is dead? When this started showing up in residential facilities it struck me that there might be a great many silent victims of this pandemic, and thus far I haven’t seen convincing evidence that something like this isn’t happening. We are hearing about documented losses in various communities across the country, but this could be a dramatic under count. As of April 18, 3,400 nursing home residents in New York had died of COVID-19. They are perhaps making an extra effort to track these in certain communities, but I doubt that’s happening everywhere. When I picture my mother’s mean accommodations – a dorm-room size compartment, curtain down the middle to separate two beds, shared bathroom and closet space, very little social distance. That at the cost of $90,000 a year and up.

The cost of this pandemic is enormous. We could have prevented it if we had taken the threat seriously. We didn’t, thanks in large measure to the reality television star in the White House, but also thanks to flaccid protections prior to his tenure that were easily undone by legislators and administration hacks bent on deconstructing the administrative state. Accountability? We shall see.

luv u,

jp

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