1

Expect the unexpected. That’s my mantra for 2024. And my prediction. If you want to know what is going to happen this year, be prepared to be surprised. Trump might be fighting Biden for the presidency in November, but maybe not. Who expected the 10/7 war? Actually, that’s why you live. You think you have it all figured out, and then you find out you don’t.

So I think I caught it in the gondola at Vail. There are two. The older one, the Lionshead one, is a POS. Looks professional, industrial, bulletproof, but the head of lifts told me how it took over a year to get it to work right, and that it still required a ton of maintenance. As for Gondola One, the one I’m talking about… They installed it back in 2012, for the fiftieth anniversary of the resort. It holds ten, although they rarely squeeze them in that tight. Each car cost as much as a Lexus, this same guy told me this (which Lexus I am not sure), and best of all, they have heated seats! They get turned on just before the car leaves the station. And on a cold day it’s great to take off your gloves and put your hands on the faux-leather. But these cars also have a series of windows. Two above and two on the side. And for some reason everybody always pulls them down. I run cold, everybody else seems to run hot. I wear four layers when they only wear two. So you think with such great ventilation I’d have been safe, but this did not turn out to be true.

Oh, I could have caught Covid somewhere else. But no one else in the condo got it. And the only thing I did different from them was ski every day. So, that’s my theory.

Not that I thought I had it. My nose started to run a week ago, Wednesday the 3rd. Not uncommon when you’re outside in the winter, right? I didn’t pay it much attention, however I did notice it ran just a bit heavier on Thursday, when I was out there making some runs before we flew home. And when you fly for a few hours, you’re always discombobulated a bit when you land. I think it’s the low pressurization in the planes. Then again, I’d been at eight thousand feet for a month.

But Friday night, I was lying in my bed and it felt like I was swallowing something. Which seemed kind of odd, because there was nothing in my throat. And on Saturday my nose started to run a bit heavier, no biggie, that’s evidence of a cold. But on Saturday night I had trouble sleeping. Even worse than I normally do. I was running through the mental map in my mind, you know, trying to name all fifty states. And then bands and then performers with each successive letter of the alphabet. And then two letter words for each letter of the alphabet, then three, then four, then five and then, sometime after that, I did fall back asleep. But it wasn’t like I had that much anxiety, why was I having so much trouble catching z’s?

And then on Sunday, my nose really started to run. You know, when you carry a box of kleenex around with you. Not that I thought much of it. Isn’t this a typical cold? But knowing I was going to be out in society on Monday, having a couple of medical appointments, I started to wonder… I’m not one to cancel, I never cancel, I have to be dying to cancel. But what I had didn’t feel like RSV, and I got the shot for that, and my mind was starting to wonder, so I decided to do some research, you know, about JN.1, the latest variant. And having OCD, I didn’t check out just one site, I was doing a thorough investigation, and that’s when I found out one of the symptoms was difficulty sleeping. That’s when I decided to test.

All the tests are expired. We’ve still got plenty. But I didn’t have Covid anyway, I was just dotting the i.

And it had been so long since I’d tested that I had to read the instructions, which are not only way too complicated with too much information, but didn’t square with the test in the box. But I figured it out, went through the motions, put three drops in the slot, and nearly immediately I got a thick red line saying I had Covid.

Which I thought was maybe a mistake. Because it’s not supposed to happen that fast. Don’t they say to wait fifteen minutes for an accurate reading? But in that fifteen minutes I found research saying if the line was bright and rich, that meant you had it bad. Really?

So I decided to use a different test, from a different brand, and I got the same result, essentially instantly.

I had Covid. After avoiding it for nearly four years.

2

Now the truth is if I didn’t have the test, if I hadn’t taken it, there’s no way I would have believed I had Covid. You see my constitution is too strong. If I told my mother I was sick she’d say to go to school anyway, that’d I’d feel better. It’s not like I was dying, I just had a cold. But no…

So now what?

Well, I had to do the research on the Paxlovid. You need to take it early for it to work. They said five days. Well, if I got Covid on Wednesday, it was still within the time frame, so I decided to dive in. However, the Paxlovid was expired. Then again, so were the tests. Actually, I’m not anti-Big Pharma to the degree most people are, but most expiration dates are hogwash. So I took the three pills.

And e-mailed my doctor in the morning. Who got back to me right away. And told me to take the expired meds, don’t take a statin at the same time and to chew cinnamon-flavored gum to deal with… Exactly what? Well, I ultimately found out. You see Paxlovid gives you this taste in your mouth. Not quite metallic. Kind of dry. Definitely off-putting. But I don’t chew gum, so I endured it. Like I said, I’ve got a constitution of iron (and I’m not bragging about it, it’s gotten me in trouble).

Now the latest research is that the Paxlovid rebound is a myth. But don’t let science get in the way of anecdotal evidence. And I want everything I can throw against the illness. You always think stuff doesn’t apply to you, and then it does. I am over sixty five. Doesn’t matter how great a shape you’re in, how active you are, you can die. No one is immune.

Which is why I got the latest vaccine. Not that I got any antibodies. I’d be stunned if I did, because of the drug I take for my skin that lasts at least six months. But research showed, well, they were ultimately able to test, that people like me get T cell protection, and that helps.

I guess now I’m supposed to fight off the haters. But I’m not going to bother, it’s a fruitless effort. If you don’t want to get a vaccine, if you don’t want to take Paxlovid, that’s your right. I’d like to say that ultimately you’re selfish, because we live in a society, and it can affect those who are immune-compromised, like me, but I won’t waste my breath. I can’t get the MMR vaccine, so I’m no longer protected against measles, but I know you want to keep Olivia and River safe at the Montessori school so you’re not inoculating them, so I can get infected and get the spots, but it’s everybody for themselves in America today.

3

So I gave up. I had so much scheduled. I cleared the deck, wiped out the calendar. And lay down and read a book.

Well, Monday night I developed a sore throat, you know, the kind where it’s hard to swallow, which is never comfortable. Did I have a fever? Well, my mother really didn’t believe in that either. I mean unless you were burning up, and I wasn’t. I was just going to ride it out.

But I got very very tired. I mean to the point where I didn’t even want to sit up and watch TV. I tried that on Sunday night, it was nearly torture.

And then Marc Reiter, who’d just gotten over his third bout, told me Howard had it. Not being in my car, I hadn’t listened, so I did some research, and learned that not only had Howard had Covid, he was testifying how awful it was. Which reminded me of when my sister Jill had back problems. I asked her, on a scale of one to ten, how much pain she was in. She told me me “Ten, definitely!” I laughed. If she was at ten she’d be in the emergency room. Bottom line, everybody’s got a different perception of pain. Maybe Howard had it worse. Or maybe I’ve just had so many illnesses that unless I’m on the verge of death, it’s no big deal.

So I finished “Nobody’s Fool.” I’d read the third book of Richard Russo’s trilogy, “Somebody’s Fool,” over the summer. Over Christmas I needed something written on a higher level. That was more than just turning pages. I was sick of the dreck. Not that “Nobody’s Fool” is hard to read. But it is a whole separate world, which is a great perspective, a great respite from today’s constant yelling by know-nothings about important issues.

And when I was done with “Nobody’s Fool” I read “Everybody’s Fool,” the second book, completing the trilogy. A bit shorter than “Nobody’s Fool,” it’s not quite as good. But it does get better at the end. Not because something specific happens, it’s just the way it is written, the truths. And, in truth, I made a big mistake by reading the trilogy out of order. I almost want to read “Somebody’s Fool” again, but I’m not going to do that, I almost never do that, it’s long and I’d rather read something else.

Which I ultimately did. Peter Biskind’s “Pandora’s Box.” Biskind wrote the definitive book on seventies movies, “Easy Riders, Raging Bulls.” “Pandora’s Box” is about the television revolution. But it’s mostly gossip. He excoriates Garry Shandling. And while he’s at it, Matthew Weiner and David Chase take big hits too. And he obviously plays favorites, he can’t stop boosting Jenji Kohan. However, he says Shawn Ryan is from the backwater of Burlington, Vermont, when in truth he went to my alma mater, Middlebury College, and not only is that thirty miles from Burlington, Ryan grew up in Illinois. I’ve never even watched “The Shield,” but a quick check of Wikipedia delivered Ryan’s history, obviously Biskind didn’t bother. And if he got that wrong, what else did he get wrong?

4

Felice was waltzing along, but then she was convinced she had it too. She didn’t want to wear a mask and I was too sick to wear one, as in I was constantly blowing my nose, how much protection a mask would have afforded is questionable.

But she didn’t have the same symptoms, she barely had any symptoms at all. But we kept testing, and finally, on Wednesday, she was positive. She didn’t want to take the Paxlovid, but I made her. You don’t want to take the risk. What are you gonna say on your deathbed? And we’re all gonna pass, from Covid or something else.

And Felice has never gotten as sick as I have. Is it the early use of said Paxlovid or is it the antibodies she got from the vaccine that I did not? Good question. But she got it from me, guilty as charged. Not that she’s the type to apportion and reinforce blame.

Yes, I read those books, but I was foggy.

And very tired. I’d have trouble keeping my eyes open during the late afternoon/early evening but I refused to fall asleep, because then there’d be no way I’d sleep at night. And sleep got better, but just when I thought I was over the hump, last night I could not sleep again.

Actually, I feel worse today than I did yesterday. Let me clarify that. Today is the first day my head is somewhat clear, that I can think, but I’m dead tired.

So according to the data, I’m no longer infectious. Not that I’m going anywhere. But I did check my tire pressure and fill up with gas last weekend, not that I infected anybody, I was outside, not that I was even near anybody.

And now it is a holiday weekend. Which gives me room to breathe, but the quietude can be weird.

And I’m sitting on all this e-mail. And if I answer it will the work cycle just begin again? Or maybe it won’t.

That was another weird thing. I got Covid and nobody knew it. But then friends reached out… I’ve become a bad reacher. I hear from so many people. So I can’t complain when people don’t reach out to me. But they did, and it made me feel good.

So where does that leave me with Covid? Well, I should have some immunity for a while, they say up to six months, assuming there’s not some crazy new variant. And despite everybody saying it’s over, that’s not what the news says. In truth, no one cares if you have Covid, it’s nothing, get over it. But some people do not. No one seems to care about the people left behind. But I know so many who died of Covid. You don’t, good for you. But it happened. And is still happening.

Not that JN.1 is as bad as what came before.

But you can die of the flu too. I got that shot, I get it every year, but they doubt that that works for me anyway.

But I’m doing my best, I want to be here. As the crowd is thinning, as my generation is passing. They’ve already stopped working, if they’re not running the company, they’re out. They’re big on nostalgia, going to see the classic rock acts and in some ways they’re nearly dead, compromised. I don’t want to be like that. But these are my people, we share common roots.

And in a world where many are already over 10/7, they haven’t got the time to be antisemitic right now, what are the odds they care about the individual?

I don’t need you to care about me. But I’m trying to care about myself. I couldn’t fall back asleep and I was reading a new book and I wondered how long I was going to do this, be removed. I decided to tell my story. Here it is.