This Year

That is the descent into New Zealand from 27 Jan. We were starting a tour in Auckland. It’s funny looking back at what was about to unfold. Not like “ha ha” funny but, you know, funny how things change. 
 
A few weeks later I woke up to do a show in Lithuania and had a plane ticket home instead. We still had stuff on the bus and had to SCRAMBLE. 

In Brooklyn, I was shaken because the bar next door was PACKED. People were shouting and out-doing each other like it was a typical weekend. The park was a Monet painting – full of people. I lost sleep over it. March 14th.  

But then it turned, just like *that*. 

And then it was silence. And fear. Supernatural. No beat on the street, no energy. No construction or honking. No fire trucks, planes. Crowds, banter, hands slapping. No one asking for money or directions. No ruckus AT ALL. The streets were empty, blinds drawn.  

The only sound was ambulance sirens. Over and over in the background all day and night. Always somewhere in the distance, getting closer or further away, a glissando up and down. A doppler effect as they raced by. I can still hear them.  

I got tested. I was lucky because tests were impossible to get. I was the first patient at Kings County Hospital. I had just come back from Asia and Europe and had symptoms. That was the criteria! They were still setting up, trying to prepare. A dozen nurses watched the doctor stick the swab up my nose (uncomfortably far). She was showing them how to do it. "Stand to the side so they can't breath on you … gloves, mask. Put that trash can over there, no over there. Put the swab in this tube, put the tube in the bag, seal it. We need a table right here. No right here. We should put chairs over there. No actually over there instead. And we'll need to form a line this way. Like this. We need to prop that door open because we can't be grabbing the handle every time. You see?" They were setting up the system. "Ok you're free to go."

A week later she called to tell me I didn't have it. “The doctor called me? That seems strange. Doesn’t she have enough to do?” I wanted to ask how she was doing. But I just said thanks. A couple weeks later, that hospital had refrigerated trailers outside as overflow for the bodies, which had overwhelmed the city's capacity for dealing with the dead. 

Those on the front lines were heroes, and the fight is ongoing. They are heroes today. Like – old school. Running headlong. Pushing down fear, and weeping in solitude – for others.

I had plans for 2020 that just got flipped upside down. Postponed a wedding, canceled holidays, pushed things back. Watched a rabid beast bleed out my industry. Watched a surreal political and social environment play out like a history book.  

I'm still here, so I’ll take that as a victory. Others have suffered in unfair ways, and have grieved. Parents struggled. It's not yet comprehensible. Don't let them walk alone.  

Kelli and I hunkered down. It's all we could do. I went in on hobbies. Roasted coffee. Read books. Went for long runs. Maintained a schedule, but spent too much on bourbon and started smoking cigars. Whatever. You can really indulge in a vice with a little knowledge. Rode the bull market. Rode a bike like a kid through a deserted Manhattan. I’ll never forget standing in the middle of the widest streets, a silent and empty Midtown like it was a highway in Montana. Cruised the length of Broadway, 14 miles, blowing through red lights like they didn’t exist because there was NO traffic or people.  

There’s a tendency to say something like “fuck this year”. But realistically, that isn’t helpful. The universe doesn’t care anyway. It’s just another lap around the sun.

There’s also a tendency to rush toward 2021. But Jan 1st isn't a resolution, it's the same as Dec 31st – a continuation. There isn’t a “going back to normal”. This is it! We have to update in real-time.  

And at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I think hope should be tempered. Not abandoned but balanced. Hope is a spark or a glimmer or a Hail Mary pass, not a strategy. It takes a lot more. 

You have to try to see what is actually happening in the world rather than what you want to see. Don't delude yourself into blowing too hard against the wind. Look inwardly, then outwardly. Realize you might be wrong.  

That's a self-reflection, not directed at anyone.  

That said, a new year is a chance to reflect and reset. A recurring opportunity to forgive and move forward. Absorb, then play offense. We will have better years. 

The best things are free, and the next best are really expensive. The keys to happiness are simple and boring things like: Friends/Family, Meaningful (autotelic) work, Nutrition, Exercise, and Sleep.

Most importantly, remember that no one knows what is going to happen in the world. Not the experts. Not the bloggers. No one. Time seeks truth.

What I’ve learned is that it’s going to unfold in a way I probably won’t expect but will learn to accept and will probably be a better person for it. 

Leaving some stuff behind, and taking some with.