Yes, I’m posting more than usual, my art my only weapon, weathering this raging storm.
Trying to stay peaceful during this, along with flossing, are my two biggest challenges.
Every day my doormen add an accessory to their uniform. It began simply with gloves that changed colors, like the women’s counter at Bloomingdales. White, to green, green to blue, now basic black.
Then came masks preventing you to hear anything they have to say, and now notice they’re wearing plastic slickers. When I asked about this, my day man said, you could have the virus on your jacket as you pass me going out.
My Barbour and I just looked at each other, and no, I didn’t spray it with Lysol.
Don’t take my sarcasm for smugness, because I know what it’s like to be afraid.
Faith and fear have been battling it out in my mind as if I were ringside at the Garden.
There are more police patrolling than ever before, and not in a comforting way. It’s menacing rather than reassuring the way they look at you with their hand on their nightstick watching for that false move.
Hey, I’m buying toothpaste, not a nickel bag Officer you’re givin’ me the creeps, and I’m someone who loves the men in blue, gaining my ultimate respect since our last crisis on September 11, 2001.
DON’T THREATEN AMERICANS WHO ARE ALREADY THREATENED AND FRIGHTENED ENOUGH THAT THEY OR THEIR LOVED ONES MAY GET SICK!
Be gentle, be kind, be persuasive in a way that makes us go home where we’re safe.
I watched a cop dress down a couple wheeling a baby carriage in a such a way I stopped.
The weeping mother said, they needed air. The cop said, you’re not 6 feet apart.
The husband bellowed, WE’RE TOGETHER. WE LIVE TOGETHER, GET IT?
When the baby started to cry that’s when I said, please Officer, please just let them be.