These Are the Positive Things I Have to Say About Trump:

Observations from a COVID Walkabout

Friday, 5/15/20, 12:30 pm. A few observations on NYC street etiquette after a nice walk around the East Village and Stuyvesant Town with my mother:

* Gen Zers are mostly out of sight, but the few I could identify as being in their teens were MASKED.
* Millennial males are mostly UNMASKED.
* Gen X men are staking out their territory by talking and laughing loudly with their socially non-distancing friends, coughing up loogies, and spitting on the sidewalk. But some, at least, are MASKED (when not excreting their phlegm)!
* Boomer males are clustered and man-spreading on park benches like cavalier cocks, wholly UNMASKED.
* Most women are MASKED; some are even gloved.
* Many women are walking alone or when with other people, six feet apart.
* ALL joggers are UNMASKED.
* ALL bikers are MASKED.
* Children 8 and under are, on the whole, UNMASKED. (Didn't see one with a mask on.)
* Had to stop my mother from scolding several parents for not protecting their children. I said, "It's not your responsibility to correct these dumbasses." She shot back, "Yes, it is!" [Nuff said.]
* Smokers wear their masks on their chins even when not smoking.
* The streets are littered with rubber gloves that look as gnarly as used condoms.
* The homeless have staked out significantly larger spots on corners and in front of closed shops (and ALL are UNMASKED).
* The various delivery people are outstandingly professional: MASKED, gloved, kind, and thankful when thanked.
* The birds are the loudest East Village denizens -- even louder than Gen X men. It sounds like the tropics during mating season.

Hypnogogic COVID-Scape

My COVID-dream last night: Maria and I were in a quaint seaside village (felt like Spring Lake, NJ) shopping for food. She seemed particularly intent on buying a certain type of lettuce and kept saying, "We can't shop here," until she found exactly what she was looking for. I started to process the environment and noticed that no one -- the clerks, patrons, pedestrians... -- was wearing a mask. "We have to get the hell out of here," I said to Maria who was starting to get angry (at the maskless? at her inability to find her lettuce?). We began to run as the town filled with seemingly well-heeled people -- all of the same stripe with their shining faces, white outfits, pearly teeth, pasted smiles... and NO MASKS! They poured into the street and we couldn't escape the throng. Maria started throwing fruit (?!) and cursing, "You self-centered fuckers!" as I tried to drag her through the crowd. Finally, an idea came to me and I screamed, "Fire! Fire!" and behold, a blazing inferno swelled behind us. They pressed forward into the flames and Maria kept yelling, "Assholes! Morons!" (and other un-postable profanities). We made it to our car (which was a green version of our long gone '71 Dodge Dart Swinger) but it wouldn't start and the more I panicked, the more difficult it became to even turn the key in the ignition. I awoke. Heart pounding. Sun shining. Took a moment. Looked at my phone. Read the news: America is hellbent on running into the flames. I think I'm still asleep.