Nine Days Left

There are nine days left until the 2020 election. What a strange time it is, and will continue, to be. There could not be two more diametrically opposed candidates. There could not be a more divisive pool of voters. It will all come down to the wire. Nothing anyone says will be able to sway the other side. On top of that, most people I know have already voted. 

Life is overwhelming. In the end maybe half the people will be happy. Maybe half will be miserable. Then there are the people who vote third party, Libertarian Jo Johnson, because they agree with her platform and hate both Donald Trump and Joe Biden that much.

As with what happened in 2016 the nation is divided to the point it hardly makes any sense to stay as one country. If only the divide was along the Mississippi River or Rocky Mountains then we could split easily. Instead most of the East and West Coasts want Joe Biden (or at least not Donald Trump) and the inside wants Donald Trump (or at least not Joe Biden).

It is scary.

The men themselves are polar opposites. What they stand for are a complete odds -- individual state rights vs. one America; not wearing masks (or believing in science) vs. wearing masks (and listening to science; believing the head of the party knows everything vs. recognizing he does not know everything and instead listens to experts. One who has no empathy vs. one who has always shown he cares. One who only thinks about himself vs. one who thinks about others.It is mind blowing.

Facebook friends are afraid of Joe Biden's tax plan to only increase taxes for those making over $440,000 a year -- I'm assuming that means they earn more than $440,000 along with one percent of Americans. They fear for their personal financial welfare.

My heart aches. 

I don't want to continue to live in Donald Trump's America. I've written letters and postcards to people living in Pennsylvania -- Democrats who rarely vote. We need their votes. The last election was decided by a few voters in a swing state when Hillary Clinton received move than 3 million votes it didn't matter because Donald Trump won the electoral college vote.

It isn't fair.

In nine days we still won't know who won, but the swaying will end followed by days or weeks of waiting for the answer.

No matter the outcome, life will still be messy for "the foreseeable future."

Yes, that scares me.

Six Months into the Pandemic

 For me the pandemic began six months ago on March 11, 2020. That was the day it was obvious we were going to have to postpone our gala and hunker down for a little while. I had no idea "a little while" would be six months and still no end in sight.

So much has changed. It is hard to remember life before the pandemic.

In no particular order the following aspects of life have not returned to the point where we can fully participate:

* Theater

Some theater groups are starting to explore doing outdoor performances. Indoor theaters are still closed in this area. Broadway is hoping to reopen in January 2021, but even that feels optimistic.

* Sports

Some Major League sports are having games in empty stadiums. We went to see "Toy Story" at Trenton Thunder's stadium. They could only sell tickets to 500 people. At $5 a ticket that doesn't pay to keep the lights turned on.

* Dining out

New Jersey was the last state to allow indoor dining, and that was at 25%. When we went to pick up take out from Tiger Noodles we saw one couple dining -- outside, no one was inside. I hope restaurants can survive.

* School

K-12 schools "reopened" this week. Lawrence Township Public Schools are 100% virtual. The Bridge Academy is about 90% in-person, but respectful of those who want to stay home and learn virtually. Saint Ann's is doing a hybrid model similar to Bridge. At the college level Muhlenberg has freshmen on campus, but many of their classes are online. 

* Hanging out with friends

Do you wear a mask or not wear a mask? Wearing a mask adds a barrier to holding a conversation, but not wearing one means you might end up with a deadly disease that you can pass along to others. We ate dinner with a friend yesterday -- he sat 12 feet away from us and we spent the meal shouting to each other. 

* Traveling

A quick google search shows our passport allows us to travel to 39 countries. Last year we could travel to 116 without a visa. Once you arrive in a country, you are still expected to quarantine for 14 days. We can't even travel to Canada.

* Church

We will continue to meet virtually. Some churches are meeting in person. Some are doing so outside -- but despite a glorious spring and summer, not many places took advantage of outdoor worship. Those meeting inside are limiting the number of people who can gather. WiNK will meet in person next weekend, but then move to the virtual world again. I'm not interested. I'm already worshiping globally online. I don't want to do the same with the church down the street from me.

My birthday was last week. Someone described it as my "Corona Birthday." May we each only have one -- even those with mid-March birthdays. At this point I don't see life returning to any semblance of the past until at least March. They hope is we have a vaccine by early 2021, but then the vaccine still needs to be accepted and distributed -- no easy task in the age of "fake news" and distrust of our leaders.

I'm still disappointed we did not get to celebrate Ashley's senior year, and will never be able to celebrate it. Does she care? I don't know. She won't tell me.

As of Thursday, there are no active cases of Coronavirus at Muhlenberg College. That is only because they run the school with a tight fist. No gatherings allowed. Only one person from your floor is allowed in your dorm room at a time. Most activities are virtual. The trade off to no cases is limited fun.

Does this bother Ashley? I don't know. She won't tell me.

I know she is making some friends because she tells me some names. I don't know anything about them, nor am I likely to learn about them. Is Greg a boyfriend or simply a boy who is a friend?

A friend from high school posted: What is our end game? That is the magic question. It can't be zero cases nationally because Polio still had 95 cases last year. It can't be a vaccine because too many people are stating they will not take a vaccine (including people who normally take vaccines). 

Was the goal to crush the entertainment, religious, restaurants, and sporting industries while making it nearly impossible to teach, because that seems to be what has happened.

I don't know how we will come out of this.

We Turned into THOSE Parents

Without trying to, we became THOSE parents, the kind that buys a non-family-friendly car the moment the child leaves for college. 

It actually started a year earlier when I bought a 2-door baby blue convertible tentatively named Veronica for my 50th birthday.

This was followed by Don purchasing a royal blue 2008 Honda Element last week. Though technically a 5-door car, the Element only has two doors that can be opened with handles leading to a passenger seat. To be fair, it does have a lot of storage space, making it the perfect car for moving someone in and out of college repeatedly.

The Element (tentatively called Ellie) came after Ruby the Honda CRV died as we pulled in front of our house after dropping Ashley off at college.

It took visiting Ashley at school for me to appreciate how there is no way we would have bought this car if we were still trying to get three of us places. It was annoying enough having to juggle to open the back door for the three four hours we were together. Laughably annoying. Perhaps that did not help the already tense visit.

Ellie was found on CarGurus.com. Unfortunately she was located in Virginia -- a state on New Jersey's travel ban list by about 10 miles. After trying to have them deliver the car for a fee) we realized it would be easier to drive to Sterling, Virginia to pick it up ourselves. So we drove 3.5 hours each way to pick up a car, only to then have to drive it 3.5 hours home. The entire transaction was conducted outside while wearing masks.

Don loves the new car. It can fit his bike inside without having to take off the front tire. It should also fit the tandem bike inside, though for that we will have to take off the front tire. It has lots of space, enough to fit an entire dorm room.

Sounds like we have empty-nester mentality.

I want a Birthday Do-Over

I was excited to be spending the day before my birthday with our daughter. I bundled the items she left behind when we hurriedly packed to send her off to college. Hurriedly because though we have known for years she was planning to go to college, with COVID, we didn't know if she was actually going to be in a dorm. It has been a roller coaster.

I asked if she preferred to go Saturday or Sunday. Sunday was Club Fair (done virtually) so we went with Saturday. I offered to let her bring a friend (she declined saying she wanted us to herself). 

I don't know what went wrong. Don and I took separate cars so we could leave one on campus (she was happy about that). We brought his new to him car so she could see it (she was less happy about that). 

Conversation was stilted. She insisted on wearing her mask the entire time because we haven't been together in two weeks (yes, she is right, but I still wanted to see her entire face). She yelled at us for being on campus (how were were supposed to get several piles of items to her? She never once offered to meet us a couple of blocks away and haul the stuff herself. Nor did she say "I don't really need sweatshirts," or the other items she requested.)

Questions were met with one word answers. I tried to think of creating open-ended questions, but I've never had to do that with her before.

We went for a walk in the rose garden near her school. We took her grocery shopping (though now that she has a car on campus, it was an unnecessary errand). We took her out to a nice dinner (she kept the mask on to sip her water, but did take it off to eat). 

She had plans with friends at 8. By 7 we dropped her off at her dorm (at least we didn't make her walk home from the restaurant). We plan to see her again in a couple of weeks when her laptop FINALLY arrives, but might just drop it off and enjoy dinner without her.

When Don and I were driving home I complained that didn't go well. I wanted a do-over. I didn't have a plan for a do-over, just that I was feeling disappointed. In the morning we talked through ideas and settled on going into NYC. The weather was perfect, but we didn't have any idea of what to do -- which is often a recipe for disaster.

We drove into NYC (not ready for mass transit, plus street parking is free on Sundays). We headed to the High Line, only to discover you can only enter between noon and 8 with a free timed ticket. It was 11:15 and all the timed tickets were claimed for the day.

Now what?

We headed to Greenwich Village -- a place we have never walked around. Our trips to NYC usually include seeing a Broadway show, or at least walking around Central Park. Mind you, we parked at Broadway and 40th, so we did a lot of walking.

I wanted a nice lunch for my birthday. Instead I had an amazing lunch at Pastis in the Meat Packing District. I was attracted to Pastis over the other restaurants because their huge outdoor dining area was packed. I ha no idea what type of food they served. I knew it would be expensive (it is NYC). Looking at the menu I was in love -- Pastis is a French restaurant. I immediately drooled over the quiche. I encouraged Don to have the Croque Monsieur (grilled ham and cheese) both were served with a small salad (and not pomme frites). We dined outside (as is the only way to dine in NYC these days). Joseph, our masked waiter, made it easy to forget we were living in a pandemic. He was charming and never rushed us. The food was heavenly. It was the lightest, fluffiest quiche I have ever eaten. I told Don this is a meal I will remember for years.

We walked around a little longer before heading home to hear the carillon at The Lawrenceville School. As students are returning this week, and the campus wants to quarantine, this will likely be our last visit for a while. A little birdie told Nina, the woman who plays the carillon, that it was my birthday. She played "Happy Birthday" for me as a treat. It certainly made me smile. 

My parents invited us over for dinner, which was also lovely. There is always the "masks on, masks off" debate, especially hearing stories of how the virus is mostly spread among family members and close friends deemed "safe." It is a tough call we face every day -- it is easier to hear without masks, it is also easier to read facial expressions. As we were meeting for dinner, we had them on part of the time and off part of the time.

In the end, it turned out to be a lovely birthday.

Someone wished me a happy Corona Year Birthday. Hopefully we'll all only have one Corona impacted birthday. As we are nearly six months into the struggle (in my world it started on March 11th as I postponed the gala eight months), I wonder when it will end.

We've Been FLOCKED!

I saw this poster near our house:

I emailed lawrenceflockers@gmail.com. Justin emailed me back almost immediately.

The deal was for $10 we were renting 20 flamingos for 24 hours. Turned out to be 13 flamingos, and they were here four days, but that's fine, too.

Ashley was quite surprised when she came home from work and saw the flock.

Just a small spurt of fun before Ashley's new adventures began.

Officially Now a Mule

Trying to think on the positive side, tonight I was able to attend convocation at virtually Muhlenberg. In a typical year it would not have been live streamed. I still wish it was a "typical" year and she was having the experience of signing the book all previous Mules signed and standing outside with the other 539 members of her class in the official candlelight ceremony. May we get Corona virus under control and be able to gather in person again.

We have been on a roller coaster of emotions for the past few weeks. Muhlenberg has moved from Plan A (typical year) to at least Plan G (for Dean Gulati). One plan called for everyone moving back on campus this week. The latest plan was only first year students and select upper class men (RAs, people doing research, people demonstrating a need to be on campus). Most classes will meet virtually. Everyone will have a single (which will make attending virtual classes easier). They are encouraged to keep their doors open and make friends -- just keep the mask on!

The closer we got to the August 21st move in the date we started to hear about bigger schools already sending their students home. Would Muhlenberg do the same? Should we really buy stuff to fill her dorm room? Is this making any sense at all? 

To answer the last question, it makes sense to us, especially to Ashley. She needs to spread her wings. She will be as safe in Allentown, PA as she would be at home. She will meet more people in person than online. In short, it was a family decision, the same one the vast majority of her classmates made. 

The day before move in day Ashley was in absolute tears about going. This is not a typical Ashley reaction. She was scared. Petrified. I advised her to give it a week. She has gone away for a week before. One week was less scary than 13 weeks. If at the end of the week she truly hated it, she could come home and learn from home. I truly anticipated she would love it.

We arrived at 11:30 for a 3 pm move in slot. Why so early? Because once our slot was over she had to jump into being a college student. There were mandatory meetings. We wanted an opportunity to walk the campus with her, help her to become comfortable with her new surroundings. Where is the book store? The technology room where her loaner laptop was waiting (it has been a week)? The local ice cream parlor? The closest grocery store? Is the area safe (yes!)? We simply spent time together that we have not been able to do with Ashley saying good-bye to friends, and squeezing in last shifts at Jerry's Artarama, and finally striking the set with her favorite teachers and best friends. I will always be grateful that worked out for her. Two days later and she would have left Lawrenceville.

The time came. We got the key to her room (fortunately the gave her the ID earlier when we said we had to pick up the loaner laptop). Being this is 2020, we each had to do a health screening and be cleared to be healthy enough to go on campus. Being it is 2020, there were no strong guys on hand to carry the fridge up a flight of stairs (the rest we could handle). Being this is 2020, we had to vacate in two hours, and are not allowed to return until we move her out -- hopefully on November 21 (the same day as my gala).

I made her bed -- likely for the last time in her life (she makes her own bed at home, this was for me). We unpacked. Don went to Wegmans to fill the fridge with dairy-free food. At first two hours seemed like a long time, but then it was time to leave her. How did that happen?

Her room is next door to the bathroom. Abby, a girl she was going to room with, is across the hall. She has met her "family unit" -- the couple of other people whose rooms she can enter. Muhlenberg hopes to expand that to the floor, then to the dorm, the school, etc. All depends on how the virus behaves. Her "family unit" is the same as the girls she will share the shower and toilet with (taking turns, of course). The school has worked hard to create new plans. They want this to succeed. They want the students on campus. 

The time leading up to Friday was stressful. Take the normal stress of sending your child off to college and add in a pandemic. That level of stress. We didn't actually start to believe she was moving into her room until the students who had the Thursday shift moved into their rooms. Every time we received a message from the school we held our breath before reading it. Would this be the one saying they cannot move into the dorm after all?

We held off on buying the bigger items (like the fridge) until last week. Oh, and the new laptop. The old laptop cannot handle Zoom --  a necessity in 2020. The one we ordered disappeared between Target and UPS (we can cancel it). The new one is on back order. The ones in stock are $1,600 instead of the $200 model we want. Muhlenberg is loaning her one. When the new one arrives after September 1st we'll drive it up and celebrate my birthday.

Her mailbox for the next four years

Really not that much stuff.
Extra pillows are for the spare bed in the room.

Settling in

Welcome Packet 2020 -- masks, hand sanitizer. glow stick for candle lighting ceremony, and contact-free door opener.

Her view

Brave smile -- which is growing as she meets people

A single, but with the furniture of a double.
How is a second person and her stuff supposed to fit in here?

So far so good. Ashley is making friends. No more tears (though I suspect there will be some at some point, it is only normal). Her "family unit" is petitioning to add Abby (they currently have three people, and Abby's unit has four) because Ashley and Abby were planning to room together in the first place. Ashley is going to activities, and meeting more people.

This won't be the freshman experience we anticipated, but neither was senior year. Speaking of senior year, we received an email as we pulled onto the Muhlenberg campus that her yearbook is finally ready to be picked up. A day earlier... High school is over. Time for college.

RIP Ruby the Honda CRV

The insanity of move-in day ended with Don's 17-year old Honda CRV dying less than two miles from home. Earlier in the day we wondered if Ruby the CRV would pass inspection in October. Of course we have wondered this through the past few biennial inspections.

The list of what is wrong with the car is probably longer than the list of what is right. The air-conditioning died a few years ago. The drivers' side window does not close all the way, neither does the sun roof. The last car (also a Honda CRV) he drove until he was advised to drive without wearing a seat belt and to have a fire extinguisher handy. Yes, we drive our cars into their graves.

As we crossed over I-95 we heard a clunk, which was followed by the check battery light coming on. We still had to to through the jug handle and climb up a big hill followed by right, left, right turns home. Meanwhile the power steering had stopped working. Start praying.

By God's grace we made it through the traffic light without having to wait. He also guided us up the hill. Water mysteriously appeared on the windshield. From the radiator? Followed by some smoke. Steam from the radiator?

Don decided to park in the street in case it caught on fire. He could not open the hood.

I jumped out of the car grabbing everything I could -- the camera, new Muhlenberg shirt, loose items in the car. I don't remember what I grabbed, but I do remember the camera hitting me in the back of the head by my metal barrette when I bent down to pick something up. Ouch! 

The next day we drove back to Muhlenberg to pick up the "Ashley Mobile," the car we left in case she has to do an emergency eviction due to COVID. 

Don spent much of the weekend researching new cars. Hopefully we'll have an announcement soon.

Meanwhile, we are selling Ruby for scrap. She was a good car. Many long trips from Florida to Canada and in-between. She was bought as my car to be able to transport Don and Ashley (in a bucket car seat at the time) at the same time --  a job my beloved Saturn SC Coupe could not handle. When I bought the Corolla (which is now the Ashley Mobile), Don took over the CRV. He is a Honda man.

It was a good car. It made it from car seat to college.

Time for new adventures.