UNDER COVID

A note on the front door of a nearby Italian
restaurant. You connect the dots.

As with the pre-9/11 era, it's already becoming difficult to remember life before COVID-19 (aka coronavirus, Wuhan virus, the end of the world, etc.). But unlike airplanes crashing into the World Trade Center, the changes here in New York have been gradual -- kind of like how the city has gone downhill since Bill de Blasio was elected mayor.

Each day, no matter what neighborhood I'm in, there are a few more people wearing surgical masks. At the grocery stores, workers try, with little success, to refill shelves that have been wiped out. Shoppers fill their carts with piles of toilet paper, cleaning supplies and, as I saw today, bacon. Because if you're quarantined, bacon is your first line of defense.

Things started ratcheting up on Monday, when two private schools just outside the city closed for the rest of the month. Yesterday, Gov. Cuomo ordered the National Guard to help "contain" a one mile radius of the suburb of New Rochelle --  the word "contain" presumably being less likely to cause panic than the more straightforward "quarantine". 

Rob breaks the news to Richie that mom won't be around
much longer.

Since the National Guard is usually seen keeping highways clear of traffic during snowstorms, there are probably more than a few members grumbling that patrolling a virus-ridden town is not what they signed up for. As for the people of my generation, the first thing we think of when we hear the name New Rochelle will no longer be the home of Rob Petrie's family on The Dick Van Dyke Show.

Don't worry, pal. When the subway shuts down, you'll be
charging anything you want.

Every day, the local news outlets bring us closer to the idea that New York is one step away from our own Andromeda Strain. City officials are weighing the idea of closing the subway system if things get bad -- which will be really tough on background actors like me to get to work. (Maybe now they'll hire me when they're shooting on the Upper East Side!) On the other hand, at last I can use those Uber and Lyft apps that are on my phone for no reason. 

Now maybe if they can just stay on land.

Just today, I received an email from Amtrak detailing the ways they're addressing "customer concerns" regarding COVID-19. They include enhanced cleaning protocols (which would have been welcome earlier), additional hand sanitizers (I'd be happy if I could count on their bathrooms having regular soap), and waiving change fees on bookings through April 30 (when, presumably, COVID-19 will vanish from the earth). And just to let us know Amtrak cares, they're also cutting service between New York and Washington. Great -- make it even harder to get out of town when the plague arrives.

Scenes from today's grocery shopping trip. When the first great novel of COVID-19 is written,
it should be titled Living in the Time of Just In Case.

The more New Yorkers are told not to panic shop, the more they panic shop. I admit to stocking up on supplies myself. Pasta sauce (even though I prefer making my own, my wife advised me that when push comes to quarantine, you want to make life as easy as possible); toilet paper and paper towels (which we're already going through); and high class chocolate (ditto). If we are going to get quarantined, it better happen soon, or we're going to be out of everything. If that happens, send supplies c/o Ol' Fisheye, New York, NY, Attn: The Guy In The Kitchen With The Bad Cough.

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