This is a personal blog about lots of topics, e.g., dogs, family, retirement, childhood, life in the U.P., humor. The George in the title is my dear brother-in-law George Levenson, husband, father, grandfather, brother, filmmaker, who left us prematurely on his 63rd birthday in 2007. His having been my favorite e-mail correspondent, I intend these stories as a tribute to George and his ever-present impact on his loved ones.
Wednesday, March 24, 2021
The Turning Point?
DEAR GEORGE, In the grand scheme of things, this is a significant time. One year ago the nation went into a pandemic lockdown, and our lives changed drastically, becoming much more constricted. With more and more vaccinations given every day, we may be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. In the midst of this medical crisis, we’ve also just ended the worst four-year presidency in American history, and we’re seeing a gradual restoration of democracy. 2021 looks more hopeful by the day.
Katja and I got our second Moderna vaccination last month, and, paradoxically, I seem to have gotten more depressed as a consequence. While you’d think this would be exhilarating, virtually nothing in our life has changed. I’m choosing not to do online OLLI classes or to go out to restaurants or other public places. No travelling, no gatherings with friends. My doctor has advised me not to return to the fitness center for a couple of months. In part because of my own lack of creativity, the last twelve months have been a loss of priceless time.
On the up side, there are signs of spring everywhere in our neighborhood — yellow flowers, the first white flowering tree blooming outside the bank, green buds on the shrubs and trees. I counted fifteen dandelions on our morning dog walk. Patrons are starting to return to our Ludlow Avenue restaurants, and the art museum resumed its normal hours last week. Perhaps we’ll soon start normalizing too.
One significant event in our household is that the repair technician came last week to restore our Hammond Chord organ that has been languishing for decades in my upstairs junk room. My parents bought the chord organ in the early 1950’s so that we children would have the opportunity to play music. Though not the most complex or sophisticated instrument, Vicki and I were serious aficionados. When Vic and Doris sold our house on the river in the early 1970’s, Katja and I rented a U-Haul trailer and brought the chord organ to Cincinnati. The last time it was played was about 1990 when J crooned love songs to K, his college sweetheart. I’ve been playing it for about an hour a day for the last week. The pages of music have turned yellow, but the books are full of great classics (e.g., Old Buttermilk Sky; Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue; I’m Getting Sentimental Over You), and I’m amazed at how quickly playing the chord organ comes back.
We do have other exciting times coming up. J and family are coming to Cincinnati in April for a weeklong visit, and Katja and I will go to California in July for her niece’s wedding. I plan to return to the fitness center by early summer, I hope that my writers’ group will start meeting by then, and I expect that OLLI will resume in-person classes in the fall. Time to break out of my funk and start enjoying life again. LOVE, DAVE
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