The Covid Year

I got my second Pfizer shot today.

One year ago today I was about to end my second week of working at home, still a bit unsure how long that would last. 

This whole last 12 months (15, really) have been astronomically historic in so many ways, good and (mostly) bad, but nothing is as incredible as this disease, this little impossible to see protein, infecting 20 million people in the US (at the very least), and having the scientific community find a workable, insanely-effective vaccine, and shoot over 100 million vaccine doses in arms, all within a year.

Covid has crippled the world. It may not always seem that way, with the stock market having mostly recovered and the world economy on decent footing, but it has wiped out the service and hospitality industries. It has shuttered borders in a way that hasn't happened since World War II. It has had a greater societal impact of anything since, again, World War II. It is a period that will absolutely go down in history books - a perfect 101 years after the last world-wide pandemic of this scale. And in a way, I'm happy I lived through it.

In the literal sense, I am happy that I literally lived through it - I'm still alive, and to my knowledge escaped contracting Covid over the past year-plus. I'm doubly happy my immediately family were also able to avoid it, and even in my extended family only a couple I know contracted it and they came through. I know millions of people, families, were nowhere near as lucky. That all goes without saying.

But what I mean is I am truly happy I lived through it. I detailed many reasons in alphabetical order before, and while there were pangs of sadness even in that A to Z, there is some happiness in those pangs. For every trip I couldn't take, there was a weekend at a home I could enjoy, with another Friday meal to cook and curate. For every weekend I couldn't meet friends (probably the biggest loss) there was a weekend I was with my family (including my sister & fiance), and still able to chat with friends over zoom.

More than anything, this past year taught me perspective and patience. The perspective of what really matters, and what could and should provide joy in your life. It taught me to see what life would have been like decades ago, before it was easy to get on a plane and go wherever, where your entertainment options were more or less limited to what was around you.

The largest learning on perspective is more around respect - respect on the immense power of viruses and disease, and the immense ability of the scientific community.

It is still crazy to me that this little microscopic bits of atoms was able to truly cripple the world. From one outbreak in Wuhan, literally a few dozen people getting sick all together at once, was enough to raise alarm bells. It's always amazing when you read stories about the coronavirus how just those first couple dozen people was enough for disease control centers to realize something is afoot.

It's so ridiculous to think those few dozen people would lead to a few hundered million people globally getting infected (probably what would've been a billion if not more had no restrictions been put in place). This 'silent' enemy was able to transit across the global in such quick execution, setting off a global pandemic. There is incredibly weighty power in that fact, that spread.

It's also so weighty how quickly the scientific community was able to find a vaccine. Within a year is unheard of. By March (probably a year ago exactly) the genome of the virus was isolated and shared. By May or so clinical trails had begun. By November, ironically the day after the election, initial trail results were unleashed showing the Pfizer vaccine (and soon after the Moderna one) to be amazingly effective. Nature crippled the world, science will bring it back to life.

I've long thought, and even debated with people, around what life will look back when we return to normal. I still don't know when that is but I do think we'll, some will say sadly, return back to normal as quick as allows. The example people point to is the "Roaring 20's" coming immediately after the Spanish Flue pandemic in 1918-19. A lot of people have pooh-poohed that idea given that people are generally smarter today than they were back then, but also because maybe this lingers.

I disagree to a point. I think people will be 'slow' to getting back to normal (excluding the people that went back to normal in Summer 2020 and never stopped), but once they're vaccinated, and once the risks of getting COVID are basically like getting a cold, it will return full bore. I hope I'm write, I want to be right, but what comforts me is the human is quick to adapt when they want to be.

In the end, we are a social animal, and that is the lasting impact of this past year. Relationships not made or not progressed. Interactions not had. The global isolation, the shuttering of communal society. Zoom and outdoor seating and other things made it not as dark and desolate as 'global isolation' would make it seem, but those were temporary panaceas. We need interaction, and a full year later we are so close to having it.

I'll still never forget getting the email from our client sponsor telling us we can't travel to client site. My view on the virus changed that day and has basically been the same the whole time. The final amazement I'll comment on is how we adapted. How restaurants, and stores, and airlines, quickly moved to make things safer. How our work adapted wholesale to doing everything remotely and not suffering (from an output standpoint, from a mental health....). How the world adapted to living in social distance. I'm ready for all that innovation to be torn down and negated because it isn't needed, but this past year has been one of the more educational of my life. Never again, let's hope, but let's also hope we never forget.

Bye Bye Brees

Drew Brees retiring was not a surprise. For about three straight seasons, the Brees that finished the season was a shell of the guy who started it. Last year that was still true but the guy who started it wasn't too good either. It was clear that Brees was done. His overall stats in the end looked nice, and he would uncork a nice deep pass 1-2 times a game, but from Week 1 onwards it was pretty evident that Payton himself had lost trust in what Brees can do.

In the end, Brees formal retirement just made firm something we all figured was on the horizon. It was basically assumed most of the year, made unofficial in the leadup to the playoffs and then basically guaranteed after his teary-eyed walk out of the Superdome. Brees's retirement though expected is still jarring. Manning's retirement in 2015 started the exodus of all time greats that changed the position wholly, and Brees is the next domino (Rivers as well). In the end, Brees won't hold any career records and one Super Bowl, but to focus on those aspects is not how we should memorialize him.

Drew Brees represents the changing game, taking what Peyton started and putting it into hyperdrive. When Mahomes's career is done it may seem commonplace, but Drew Brees's continual 5,000 yards is just staggering. It was enough so when he first did it in 2008, falling about 40 yards short of Marino's then record. It seemed futuristic. Three years later, he would blow past the old record. He got over 5,000 three more times. Before Brees, having a completion percentage abot 70% was legendary - Brees made that fairly commonplace too, going well above the 70% mark year after year. There truly was nothing like him.

Brees also leaves with one Super Bowl win (and just one appearance) and no MVP awards (two Offensive Player of the Year awards). But somehow he ended up escaping that 'only won one ring' label that hounded Manning for much of his career, and is now starting to for Rodgers. And I think the reason behind that reveals the lasting image of Drew Brees: He was never supposed to be here.

It isn't like Brees was an unknown - he had a good career at Purdue and was a 2nd round pick. His early career gestated in San Diego, not really making much of a noise until 2004 when he exploded out of nowhere for a 12-4 Chargers team that had gone 4-12 the year before. He had a decent 2005 season which ended in disaster as he tore his shoulder up in the last week. He was seen as damaged goods, famously passed on by Nick Saban and the Dolphins, and found his way down to New Orleans, a team that had just gone 3-13 and played all over the country post-Katrina.

Much like New Orleans itself, Brees was reborn in 2006, his first incredible season, leading the Saints to a 10-6 record and an NFC Championship Game. The connection he set-up with Sean Payton that year forged one of the all-time Coach & QB pairs (probably right there with Walsh & Montana as Playcaller & QB pairs). I think a lot of the reason Brees never got the pressure and criticisms that Manning or Rodgers did was the lasting effect of how special that 2006 season was, and the 2009 title season right after.

Truly those early Saints teams, before they got into the robotic YAC and short passing brilliance that set in during the later years, were a fascinatingly fun watch. The weapons were always changing, but Brees wasn't. The 2006 Saints were a miraculously fun team. The crowds in the Superdome in those days were legendary. The Brees from 2006-2009 was one of the more exciting runs I've seen. When I remember Brees's career, it will be for those years.

What I love about Brees is he got covered, and will hopefully be remembered, in the way we should remember and honor QBs. We didn't focus on his flaws, or his playoff losses, or his shortcomings. We focused on teh great performances year after year. He didn't get slammed for the playoff losses because he shouldn't be - more often than not he was felled in by truly awful defensive performances and ridiculous losses. We shou;dn't criticize QBs for when they lose despite playing well. We generally do anyway, but with Brees we resisted that temptation.

It is sad though how snakebitten he was in the playoffs - rivaling Peyton in terms of the tough losses. Even this year, while Brees most certainly did not play well, had Jimmy Graham not fumbled away what would have been a 1st down deep in Bucs territory up 20-13, maybe the Saints win that game. But going back they get weirder and weirder. 

Two OT losses in 2019 (to the Vikings) and 2018 (Rams). The 2017 loss to the Vikings in the Minnesota Miracle game (the Diggs TD). There was the 2011 loss to the 49ers that mirrored the Vikings loss in 2017 with the Saints taking the lead with under a minute left and still losing. Even in 2004 he lost to the Jets after Nate Kaeding missed a short field goal in OT. He had his share of tough losses, including games he played fantastically in (2011 to the 49ers, 2010 to the Seahawks - the Beastquake game). He rightfully isn't seen as a playoff failure. I do just wish other QBs were talked about that way.

It will be so weird seeing someone else be the Saints QB next year. In a way, having non-Brees guys start 5-6 games these past two years at least got us prepared for it. The Saints were a marquee franchise for hte league for 15 years because of Brees, because of hte offensive machine that they built in New Orleans. They were a primetime standard, and always a good bet to just roast a team at home in primetime. They were such a dominant part of the NFL world for 15 years. Losing Brees does close that chapter, but what an incredible, history making, game changing, ride it was.

The Covid Sports Year

As with many people, March 11th is a bit of a 'Day 0' for COVID being real to me. I had heard about it a lot before, starting in January when signs started appearing in airports about it. March 11th though was the day that the NBA shut down, after Rudy Gobert (and Donovan Mitchell we would later find out) tested positive. That set off a shockingly quick chain that included the NHL shutting down the next day, March Madness getting cancelled in a couple days, Spring Training shutting down and the whole world of sports going silent. As with many industries, Covid sent sports into disarray. I don't want to talk about March 11th or the immediate aftermath - enough people with more insight and clarity have. I want to talk about the effect of a sportless Spring and then the various bubbles that brought them back.

Sports has been a significant part of my life - some would say too significant. Hell, this blog, which over the years has become less and less sports related, would never have started without it. The rhythms of how we view the year is often around what sports or events are happening when. We all know the darkest part of the sports calendar is the month or so following the Super Bowl before March Madness picks up. You have NBA and NHL playing out the string of the regular season, MLB teasing us with meaingless spring training. March Madness is the light at the end of that tunnel, one that really blows open as March Madness ends and the NBA & NHL playoffs begin. Well, in 2020 Covid extended that tunnel a whole lot further.

It's funny to remember back in March how the immediate questions were around how long this would last, with wildly differing opinions from 'ah, it'll be a few weeks' to 'it's not coming back, let's just focus on 2021'. In the end, we went the bubble route, and a year later we have mostly still empty arenas. But the hyper intensity of what would happen dominated that period.

So did the silence. The lack of sports. I remember a great ESPN commercial that came out probably in April or so with the tag-line 'We miss sports too' or something like that. It was poignant, it was beautiful, and it was so raw. Yes, losing sports is a bit trivial to what horrors much of the country was encountering at the time, but as something that is so often people's escape or outlet, that was complete shut off.

It also seemed so distant on how it would return. While the world was learning the term social distancing, it was a bit of a mystery of how something that required you to not social distance would return. In time we would learn the actual chances of spread are extremely tied to the time spend in close contact, so these short period of time of contact wasn't actually that much or a risk, but no one knew at the time. How also could we stage this when tests were so difficult to get. In the end, bubbles would solve this issue - but raised a whole new set of questions, mainly around how much is a crowd a driving factor in enjoying sports.

Sports is so intertwined with emotions, and the emotions of a crowd undoubtedly adds to that expreience. We were robbed of that. We knew ahead of time and had time to combat or deal with the view that we would be watching games in empty stadiums. The leagues tried their best to pump in fake crowd noise, change the way games are shot, get creative, do a lot to paper over the fact that there were no fans.

It wasn't the same though. We lived with it because there were no alternatives. And I'll admit at times the NBA and NHL did fine. But whether it was empty stands for big baseball games, or incredible football moments met with no reaction, it was just not the same. That said, it did lay the groundwork for how incredible fans returning, even at restricted capacity, can be. 

There were only about 6,000 fans in Bills stadium when they got a 100-yd pick six in the playoffs. That fanbase finally had a good year just as no one could watch them in person, They finally got a home playoff game, a big one, and had a legendary play. The noise, the fans, everythikng was so pure, so beautiful, such a reminder of what lies ahead and what we had to live through.

I do like in the end every sport, every event, was impacted. We thought at the time maybe football got lucky again, and while they did allow some fans they had to deal with the same issues. Global events had the same challenges - with Wimbledon being canclled, the French Open played in October and so much else. Nothing was spared in 2020 and 2021.

As we reach the one year mark, if anthing the value of sports has become more pointed. It was an emptiness in April-June 2020, the busiest time of the sports year being whittled down to a remote NFL draft as the highlight. Its rebirth in the summer, in isolated bubbles splayed across North America was a shining light of happiness, if only how it forced us all to 'accept' change. Its eminent return in a more positive way stands before us now - with the filling of brackets as a redemptive return after that being the first major event to get the ax a year ago.

Sports like everything else changed in the past year, but not its place and improtance in my life and the lives of so many people globally. The specter of international competition, be it the Olympics or the Euros, looms large but even if those are scuttled, we have our US sports running at full stream, if not full crowds, here again, and that is all I can ask for in 2021.

A Year on the Ground

On Friday, March 13th, 2020, I took a flight from Toronto to Newark. I had taken 121 flights in the prior 365 days. I have taken zero in the 365 days since. 

I've loved flying since I was probably five or six years old. I've written about that love for flying dozens of times on this blog. I've meticulously tracked each flight I've taken. I've obsessively tracked how many airlines and airports and aircraft I've flown on or through. One of the main reasons I chose a career in Consulting is the ability to fly - and the best year of that for my life was probably 2019 through March 2020 (below). I flew the longest flight in teh world. I flew to Cape Town - the flight with the longest stretch over water in the world. I never enjoyed a year up in the air more - and then it stopped.

When I took that last flight on March 13th, I definitely knew we were entering a complete new world. In reality the 'change' happened a couple days earlier, when we got an email from our client exec sponsor saying they (the client) were implementing a travel ban and therefore we would not be able to come to site. That was the same day that Rudy Gobert tested positive, the sports world fell into dissaray, and the threat of Covid was completely and utterly inescapable. My mindset changed immediately, but we were still a bit naive.

At the time, I had a trip planned for Korea in May, in that moment, I actually did think to myself would we be OK by then - if to show just the level of my naivete, early on my worry was about the Covid situation in Korea - remembering Busan to be the second real public outbreak after Wuhan. That trip in May begat September which begat this May which will then begat this September (and still potentially not even then will it be possible...). It is staggering to think what an impact the pandemic had - but dwelling on that astounding impact is for my final Pandemic-versarry piece. This is about the simple fact I went from flying 122 flights in 365 days to zero and what it taught me.

I should say, while traveling for work was obviously made moot, I easily could have traveled for personal travel, especially last Summer and early fall. For all the perceived risks, flying isn't that risky an activity - its a dice roll if the person next to you is infected but otherwise it's not the most unsafe activity to be sure. It wasn't some puritanical stance against flying that kept me grounded, but despite having the opportunity, the fact remains I haven't taken to the air.

What more than anything this past year on the ground has taught me was to not take flying for granted. I don't think I did all that often - still romanticizing the incredible fact that this technology, to transport people in bus-birds in the air from place to place at heretofore unimaginable speeds. But traveling for work Monday and Thursday week after week, dealing with American winter snow and summer thunderstorms, on small planes for 90-minute flights does do well to break down the shiny veneer of 'flying.' But no more, that first time I take a short flight at 7am to some random Midwest town for work, I'll undoubtedly tear up.

What more this past year highlighted was just how fortunate I've been - to have parents who loved to travel and take us on long flights from early ages. From having a job that allowed me to travel for work, but also travel for leisure. For having the luxury of taking vanity trips - using money I should have been paying towards NY rent but instead did for flights to Singapore becauase I wanted to fly on the longest flight in the world. I did some fairly ludicrous trips in the 24 months prior to my year on the ground - two trips to Mumbai for six days each, the aforementioned Singapore trip, the six day trip to Cape Town. I flown enough for many lifetimes, and so thankful I did before that option was taken away.

The year on the ground did allow me to get that romance back in flying. I remember feeling utterly heartbroken seeing Newark Airport so empty, so desolate, so bleak, when driving up the Turnpike past it back last Spring and Summer. Honestly, it was depressing. I walked through that airport about a hundred times in 2019-2020 - seeing it clinging to life was devastating.

I felt better as slowly but surely it got slightly busier - still nowhere near where it was in February 2020, but something resemble a humming operation. The only remaining step is for me to take a flight through it. 

Flying has been such a huge part of my life, and it never was a larger presence than that past year. From January 1, 2019 through March 13, 2020, I took 147 flights. Those flights were across 38 different airports, on 15 different airlines and 25 different types of aircraft. It was a joy, looking back I'd rarely been happier (it helped the project, the one that drove a majority of some of those stats, was a good one). It got me to airline statuses I'd never had before, in time to use upgrades to get business class on flights to Mumbai and Cape Town. It got me closer to the George Clooney character in "Up in the Air" as I probably could ever hope to.

Flying will become a part of my life again I'm certain - if anything I'm almost going to go out of my way to break the streak by end of April. I got my first vaccine shot last week (kind of amazing to think it happened near the 1-year mark), the second upcoming on March 27th which should time me up to get full immunization by mid-April or so. I don't know where that first dip of my toe back into the flying pool will be, but I'm hoping to make it something special. 

I can't wait for that first time walking down the jetbridge, that first time sitting in my seat. That first time I have to pretend to listen to the safety briefing. That first time hearing the engines fire as we head down the runway, and that first time feeling once again "holy God, we're floating in air." I've generally avoided flying in window seats, especially on longer flights, but whenever I do return to the air I will definitely take a window and stare out of it far longer than I've done on any flight in the last five years - soaking in the wonder of being in the air.

It's somewhat ironic that after that peak flying it went straight to zero in a matter of days. That last fateful week I flew four flights, from Newark to Raleigh, then back to Newark, then up to Toronto, than back to Newark. That's the life of a consultant - four flights in three days, none longer than 90 minutes, all in regional-jet planes. But that's the life I miss so much. Sure, I miss the long flights with meals and lie-flat seats and movies and the like, whisking off across continents, doing in hours what people seven generations back could only do in weeks. But no, what I ultimately miss is that gray-light walk through Terminal C TSA at 6am, that patient lining up as we await being called on board, and that hope that we can fall asleep quickly to get a few last minutes of shut-eye before the start of a work week.

This year on the ground taught me a bunch - aspects I spoke to in great detail in my A to Z, and will do in my final 'Year of Covid' retrospective, but it taught me to appreciate how fortunate my life in the air has been. It also made it more clear than ever that I should lean into that interest - to never feel shame to track my flights, rattle off my flying stats, and own the fact that my life was grounded for a year, but never again. As I hopefully return to the sky soon, I should remember how I feel right now, that any flight is a blessing, a miracle of modern invention, and never lose sight of the fact that any moment spent in the sky is pure magic.

The A to Z of the Year in Covid, Pt. 2

 N.) Nature

Our old president called Covid the 'silent enemy' and in a way he was right. It was so weird early on in the pandemic the idea of little globules of Covid just floating around. That said, we were always told outdoors and specifically in areas not too crowded were safe and I abused that little Covid loophole to the full degree. I'll talk about trails later, but this year got me closer to 'nature' in the sense of just realizing how special it is. There was my Mom's garden, with me probably spending more time just lazing outside on the patio, or us eating in the backyard, than any other year. There were the trails. There were the fall colors. There was the walks we used to take as a family very early on in the pandemic from our house to our town's center three or so miles away. It took a year locked down to really realize what a beautiful world this little slice of america is.

O.) Old Movies

I detailed the old movies angle in much more detail, but this whole pandemic has been about rediscovering many ages of cinema that escaped me. It actually started early on when I was playing out the string on a project with loose enough to have movies on in the background during the day. Those were more recent - I had a post about them back in April. In time, it became the other Friday tradition, that there would be a movie playing in the background when I cooked. And to ensure I don't miss enough, older movies ("slower" in theory) where the go to - better if they were musicals. I had never seen a Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart movie before this year - same with Audrey Hepburn (aside from My Fair Lady), Katharine Hepburn or so many other stars of classic cinema. I still have just scratched the tip of the iceberg - but at least I now know it is an iceberg wholly worth scratching.

P.) Puzzles

Many families got into, or re-into, puzzles during the pandemic. Mine was no different, as it was our initial family gathering time waster early on, went silent over the summer and fall, and then reawakened in the depths of winter, spurned by Christmas and a bevy of Christmas-themed puzzles. More than anything, they were a small set of a daily family communion - early on when my sister and her fiance was living with us, at the end of each working day each one would sit down at the dining table and just puzzle for a bit. We did all types - classic Italian paintings, beautiful landscapes, wreath-shaped paintings. I don't know if we're appreciably better now than we were early on, but when better means faster - well that goes against the whole communal aspect of the puzzle to begin with.

R.) Regrets

While I've tried to focus here on the positive aspects of a year in quarantine and a year in a pandemic world. But that isn't truly 'real', a lot of this year was tough. Of course, for millions (billions, really) it is way tougher than I can imagine, but for me there are certainly regrets or missed opportunities. There's the regret of running one of hte most successful projects of my career, a real proud accomplishment but doing it without ever meeting my team or client team that were such big parts of it. There's the loss of vacations, be it the one to Korea that I had planned for last May - somehow won't be able to even do it this May. It was losing out on a proper housewarming. It was losing out on making more connections, on interacting with friends not close enough to do frequent Zooms, but close enough there's a loss of memories made. And finally, it was losing out on my Sister's wedding - which she'll still have but it should've already happened for her. 2020 could have been a great year; in many ways it still was, but there's definitely a lot I regret not having the ability to do.

S.) Schitt's Creek

I've said a few times in this my love of Schitt's Creek, but what was interesting was it was a show my parents watched, alone, first. I'm not sure why they started, but they binged it in a way that I've never seen them binge a show. That was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I started it soon after they reached S4 in record pace. I didn't watch it quite at their pace but it was irresistible. In the end, I binged only a few older classic shows that I missed out on (Justified was the other 'classic' I would say, Episodes is up there, just more niche), but happy that Schitt's Creek was the one comedy - so endlessly funny, joyous and in a weird way meta - it being the story of how a family who had everything also learned to take in the joys of the little things.

T.) Trails

There's a beautiful little trail a little bit aways from Central Princeton. I maybe hiked its 1hr long loop about 100 times last year. It was the perfect little daily escape, something that was always a few miles away but hidden from view with bright lights and friends and drinks and all that blocking its reach. With those 'distractions' out of the way, these trails became a lifeblood. Ironically, I first walked that Princeton trail in February before lockdown, but I am unendingly thankful I made that little discovery. Over time, I tried a few other trails around my house, and a few around the state. Every few weekends I went on my AllTrails app (a great app) and found something new to explore. Theres enough streams and mini-waterfalls and lakes even in New Jersey. A took a pandemic for me to realize how beautiful the untouched parts of New Jersey's many forests really are.

U.) Unexpected Nostalgia

I had not gone to Six Flag's Safari in maybe 12-15 years. It used to be a many-times-a-year joy back in teh 90s and an at least once-a-year so from 2000 - 2007 or so. Then it went silent for years. Well, deep in September, we decided to take a whirl at the safari. It was glorious, as good as I remembered, even if there were less animals (in total; in # of species, probably more) but they were just as great, just as close to cars as before. I loved every moment of it. There were a few other things I did over the year that I hadn't done in such a long time. Before bars/restaurants opened back up, my friends and I took walks around Princeton - an activity we hadn't done since being able to go to the bars from 2012 onwards. There was driving on the New Jersey Coast. There was just walking aimlessly around New York, or going to Peddler's Village. There was the already mentioned puzzles and what-not. It was all a year-long nostalgia trip. Would I give it up for a real trip? Well, certainly, but maybe not the safari?

V.) Vacation Photos

I didn't get to really travel last year. No one is going to cry for me. That said, I didn't really cry for me either, because I realize how lucky I am to have traveled so much in years prior, and not only that, but I've taken to mindlessly and endlessly taking photos on those trips. Those gave me the greatest blessing this year - whenver I felt a bit down, on another weekend at home, unable to meet friends and some weekends even organize a zoom, a just opened up the laptop and pulled up photos from old vacations. It kept reminding me how lucky I was, but also what a joy it was to experience those trips. In the moment on those trips I found it a bit ridiculous how many photos I took (almost all without people in them), but they were a lifesaver this past year. I could somewhat relive those trips, and dream of a future when I would be able to add more 1,500-picture collections in the future.

W.) Winberie's 

I spoke earlier about the restaurants that stayed open. Above them all, the one I'm most happy about that stayed open was Winberie's in Palmer Square. Princeton as a whole did well adjusting to more outdoor seating, creating actually fairly 'normal', enjoyable atmosphere's all summer. It allowed my friends and I a few weekends with a 'normal' time, particularly at Alchemist & Barrister, we had a few nights even able to stay out until 1am. Winberie's couldn't do this though, with no outdoor seating. We achingly waited until in August they finally opened back up. They have restricted hours (close at 10), and very limited seating. Because of this I've only been back twice, but those might have been my two favorite 'going out' moments of the quarantine. To sit in that booth with the same friends, chatting to the same two waitresses (who luckily stayed employed throughout), felt about as close to normal as I could have pictured. So grateful Winberie's stayed open - now I just can't wait until we can stay there in that booth but do so to close it down at 1am again.

X.) X-word

I've done the New York Times Crossword for a while now, but until the past year limited myself to basically the Monday through Wednesday versions (read: the easier ones). This past year, with a bit more down time, I started to tackle the tougher ones. I'm still not good - I don't blatantly cheat but I use the invaluable NYTXW blog "Rex Does the Crossword" as a lifeline and guide. I'm continuously astounded by the times those guys put up - to be honest even an easy Monday puzzle I find it impossible to even navigate the crossword in that speed. Anyway, I'm still not any good, but I'm definitely better, I've finally memorized which spelling of Tsar/Czar the crossword uses and a few of hte other common random words, but still have so much more to go.

Y.) Year

What this year has really thought me is just what a 'year' means. It also changed the definition of a 'month' - as March became the longest 31 days maybe ever. But for some of the year it also flew by. I'll expand a lot more on the 'year' concept in another piece but in the end, this year when about as fast or slow as others, but other than saying I 'lived through the pandemic' I do wonder how much this year will just winnow away from memory over time. In a way, that's why I wanted to write this piece and focus more on the positives, so I can remember this year for what is what, both good and bad.

Z.) Zoom

Amazingly, yes Zoom was a thing before the pandemic. Ironically, my company switched to Zoom for video conferences (from WebEx) in December. Didn't realize how prescient we were! Overtime, Zoom began to run my life from 8a-7p, having done way too many Zoom meetings for many a lifetime. But come weekend, it became a lifeline - one to keep touch with the friends that carried me through this period. Out of my closest friend group, only a few of us were still in town and able to create a safe enough group quasi-bubble to be able to meet up a few times in the summer. For the rest of the group, including three now on the West Coast, Zoom kept us connected. We played Codenames, Cards Against Humanity, Jackbox, a lot of poker, and alternatively just shot the shit like we always would. Zoom also allowed my extended family to connect a few times. In some cases, I spoke to people more often this past year over Zoom than I probably would've had 2020 been normal. I hope to never have to breakout Zoom so often in 2021 and beyond, but for 2020, Zoom was the one thing that kept the year sane and special.