Covid-19 Fights Back

I may be through with Covid-19 but, apparently, it's not through with me yet.  

Two nights ago, Jude tested positive or Covid-19 and, yesterday, my newest associate at work - Andrea - tested positive for Covid-19, too.  

I'm not sure it matters at this point but I don't think I gave Jude and Andrea Covid-19 because I tested negative on December 11 and more than a week passed before either one of them experienced any symptoms.  Still, it's hard to know for sure.  I guess my negative test could have been a false negative because I didn't test a second time.  Also, I'm suspicious because their symptoms are remarkably similar and they sound alike when I talk to them.

I feel terrible for Jude, in particular, because her positive test comes right before Christmas.  Her brother and his wife and children, whom we love spending time with, were planning on coming to Nashville from Charlotte and staying with us after Christmas.  That plan is out the window, obviously, as are our plans to go to Tracy and Gary's house for brunch on Christmas Eve.  

Plus, I hate it that Jude feels so awful over the holidays.  She works so hard and I hate for her time off to be spent feeling so poorly.  That's Covid-19, though.  Always poor timing, I guess.

Deconstructing the Factory

I was about to rush in for coffee this morning at Honest Coffee Roasters when I got a text confirming my 9 a.m. appointment has canceled.  So much for wearing a coat and tie to work today, the last week before Christmas.  Still, I won't complaint about having a little more time to enjoy my coffee as I sit on one of the couches in what passes for the lobby of the Factory, underneath a 35' tall Christmas tree.

'Tis the season indeed.

The Factory, of course, is a mess.  Since closing on the $65,000,000 less than a year ago, the new owners immediately began the massive renovation project that has left everything her in a state of disarray, at least temporarily.  Several longtime shop owners were told their month-to-month leases would not be renewed, so they quickly closed up and moved out.  Other shop owners were allowed to stay.

Honest Coffee Roasters is undergoing another expansion as a result of which it's suddenly been halved in size to the point that it's not really possible to sit in the shop and drink my coffee without feeling like I've been shoe horned into the place.  I guess it will be better when they're finished with the expansion but I'm not sure if that will be the case.  Much as with the renovation of the Factory itself, I fear the intimacy and character of the old coffee shop will be lost in the expansion.

Change is inevitable, of course.  Progress, too, I guess.  Still, I miss the Factory of old.  Yes, it was under utilized and, I assume an under performing asset.  A lot of vacancies and unused space was a problem, to be sure.  For me, though, I loved being able to wander through the three buildings as I talked to a client, or attorney, on my AirPods, sometimes for thirty minutes or an hour.  It was different from being in the office, obviously, and a nice change of pace.

Especially during the early days of the pandemic - when I was terrified of getting Covid-19 - I got coffee at Honest Coffee Roasters, then walked up to the massive, wide open lobby area and sat on one of the four couches arranged in the four corners of "the Great Hall," where I read the New York Times online, answered e-mail, or otherwise planned my day.  It was nice to be around other people but distanced from them because it made me feel less isolated.  

Now, of course, there is a temporary wall that cuts off access to what is left of "the Great Hall."  Through circular windows in the temporary wall, I can see that the new owners cut down the trees that grew in planters and brought a unique feel to the space.  That was to be expected but is still feels wrong, somehow.  The entire area looks like a bomb went off in it.  

The back building where I often camped out to work on projects that required a couple of hours of deep thought or concentration is closed to the public.  Renovations are going on in there, too, or so it seems.

Outside the Factory's main building, the owners recently demolished a beautiful, old patio (I guess you'd call it) that was adjacent to Honest Coffee Roasters.  They also cut down an old tree that grew next to the patio, which seems unnecessary to me but what do I know?  I just hate to see old, healthy trees cut down in the name of progress.

Well, my reverie has been interrupted, suddenly, by Christmas music blasting over the loudspeakers, so guess it's time to move along to the office.  It's time to deal with a lingering personnel issue, dictate a couple of Orders from a hearing Friday afternoon that went surprisingly well, and visit a new client at the Williamson County Jail (don't ask).  

So much for slowing down the week before Christmas, right?  

Turn, Turn, Turn

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

There is a season (turn, turn, turn)

And a time to every purpose under Heaven.

Pete Seeger

Sometimes, like just now as I stood in a line at Dose, waiting to order my morning coffee and scrambled eggs, I'll see a mom and dad with a son in a stroller.  If it's a day or a moment that I'm not lost in thought or distracted, worrying about work, I find myself overwhelmed with emotions as if by magic, I travel backwards in time and see myself standing in line with JP or Joe comfortably ensconced in my stroller.  

It happens so quickly and unexpectedly that it's like touching an emotional live wire and receiving a quick but strong electric shock.  This morning, it staggered me for a moment and I felt tears welling in my eyes as I gazed down at an infant boy in a stroller, as his parents stood above him, talking quietly.  As he looked up at them - the picture of contentment - the boy's father smiled at him and reached down to adjust his stocking cap.  

I'm not sure how or why but I could sense that he was their first child.

For an instant, I could see JP in that stroller, looking up at me, as we stood in line at Bongo Java, 13 or 14 years ago.  The memory was so real and so powerful.  

As I often do when I have an experience like this, I leaned over and touched the father lightly on his shoulder and smiled.  

"I just dropped off my oldest son at school for last exam of the semester," I said.  "He's in 8th grade.  Trust me, they go from that age - I pointed down at his son - to 8th grade so fast.  Enjoy every minute."

The man and his wife smiled at me, friendly and grateful I had taken the time to speak with them.  "Thank you," the boy's father said.  "We do and we will.  Enjoy every minute."  

I turned away so they wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.  

Today, JP is taking his last exam of the semester, Latin, a class he enjoys that is taught by a teacher he loves, Ms. Ellery.  Joe is back in circulation after missing two and half days of school with a virus or bug of some sort.  He was smiling and happy today, anxious to get back to school for the Christmas party.  

I miss the stroller days terribly at times.  There's no denying that fact.  Those days came and went like an Indian summer, gone all too soon.  

Still, Jude and are blessed beyond belief to have the boys we have at the ages they are now, 14 and 10.  Healthy, happy, smart, funny, filled with kindness and goodness.  God has been so good to us and I'm so very grateful.

 

Turning the Corner on Covid-19

Yesterday, for the first time in a week, I finally started to feel a little bit like myself.  My voice is back.  I was less tired.  I was less congested, although I've got a dry cough that I suspect will be with my for a while, courtesy of Covid-19:  The Sequel.

According to CDC Guidelines, I no longer need to isolate (5 days of isolation after the onset of symptoms).  I was back in circulation yesterday afternoon.  I got my haircut while wearing a mask, of course.  Then, I stopped by the office for the first time all week.  It was good to see everyone and to sit in captain's chair again, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

My gratitude at feeling better is palpable.  That's the thing about being sick - for me, anyway - it makes me appreciate even more being well.  I can't wait to run again. 

After work, at my urging, Chas, Lee, Andrea and I sat up front and had a bourbon together.  I turned the lights off and we basked in the glow of the lights from our Christmas tree and talked while we watched people walk buy us outside, headed to Puckett's for dinner or to Main Street for the beginning of the Dickens of a Christmas Festival.  I feel this way a lot,  honestly, but sometimes it's nice to have an office in downtown Franklin.

As we sat together, I was struck by the fact that I'm very lucky to work with and, especially, to have the law partners I have.  It was special to spend a few stolen moments with Chas, because he and his family have had such a tough go of it the past few months.  His wife has been ill and his mom just got released from the hospital, too.  I don't know how he works, raises two kids, and cares for his wife and mom.  He's got broad shoulders, literally and figuratively, but still, he has so much on him right now.  

While I don't think I'm contagious, I want to be careful not to get JP sick, since he is in the middle of exams.  He took his history exam yesterday and though it went well.  He has exams all next week and, just like that, the first semester of 8th grade is over.  

Joe's looking forward to finishing the first semester, as well, but his days are a little easier than JP's at the moment.  Yesterday, the big news was that Joe's team won in football at recess, 37 - 35, when Joe sacked the opposing team's quarterback - his friend, Bennett, for a late safety.  Big day.  

Joe plays quarterback and when I get home each day, I'm always anxious to hear about that day's game.  How many touchdowns did he throw?  How many picks?  Any disputed calls?  That kind of thing.

The life of a 4th grader is so innocent and carefree.  It's almost painfully beautiful, like a cold winter morning.  Blue sky, sunshine, and watching the cloud your breath makes as you walk to the car to go to work.  What a great time in Joe's life and what a great time in mine to watch it unfold.  

Today?  Another busy Saturday.  Jude is taking JP and a couple of friends to a noon Predators' game. 

Joe and I have quite the day planned.  All basketball, if we can pull it off.  Joe plays in a doubleheader at St. Paul's at 11 a.m. and noon, then we're going to go to MBA and watch the Big Red play McCallie at 1:30 p.m.  Afterwards, Joe plays his third basketball game of the day, at MBA.  Then, we'll rush to Belmont U. to catch the second half of Belmont's basketball game.  

Our boys keep us busy on weekends, an young, too, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Here Comes the Judge

Nine years.  $360,000,000.  $40,000,000 per year.

That's price tag of the Yankees new contract with Aaron Judge, reigning American League M.V.P. and, apparently, a Yankee for life.  Or, at least until age 39.

It's the largest deal - in total annual salary and total value - ever for a position player.  It's only fitting, I guess, that the Yankees would be the franchise to pay it.  Somewhere, George Steinbrenner is smiling smugly and nodding his head.

Is it too much money to pay a 31-year old outfielder,  often injured during his career but coming off a season for the ages in which he broke Rogers Maris' American League home run record and led the Major Leagues in on-base percentage, slugging percentage, runs scored, runs batted in, and total bases?  

No, it's not too much for Yankees to pay to Aaron Judge.  In fact, the Yankees had not choice.  They had to sign Aaron Judge or their fans would have revolted, and rightfully so.  

Franchise players, true franchise players - the superstars - are so rare in sports today.  In the modern era of the N.B.A., there was Michael Jordan, Hakeem, and Kobe.  Now, there is Steph Curry, standing alone.  In the N.F.L., no one stands out.  Peyton Manning and Tom Brady changes teams late in their careers.  

In baseball, there's Clayton Kershaw for my Dodgers, at least for now, although I suspect he pitches a final season for the Texas Rangers.  Barry Bonds is a San Francisco Giant for life but he carries a ton of baggage, obviously.  

Almost all of the superstars in baseball move on at some point from the team that originally drafted them.  As a Dodgers' fan, I was ecstatic to get Freddie Freeman from the Braves last year and he had a predictably fantastic season.  As a baseball fan, though, I was sad to see the Braves allow him to leave.  He was their heart and soul and he wanted to stay in Atlanta and would have taken less money to do so.

That brings me back to Aaron Judge.  I think it's important for teams to keep their heart and should superstars.  The ones the fans - especially kids - identify with and whose jerseys they wear.  That's who Aaron Judge is for the Yankees, for sure.  

So, good for Aaron Judge.  Good for the Yankees.  Good for baseball.

I still want Dansby Swanson from the Braves, though.  I can't wait to see him playing shortstop in Dodger Blue next season.

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/07/sports/baseball/yankees-aaron-judge-contract.html

Covid--19: The Rematch

Here we go again.  

Last night I tested positive for Covid-19.  Again.  The second time this calendar year.  

My entire family has been coughing since before Thanksgiving but I've been careful to try and stay away from them.  Mostly just to avoid getting a cold or sinus infection or so I thought.  I've even been sleeping in the guest room because Jude has been coughing a lot at night.

Friday late afternoon, I began to feel a little run down at work.  Scratchy throat.  A little sniffly.  I didn't sleep well Friday evening.  Sinus infection, I thought.  Saturday morning, I drove to the walk-in clinic and arrived just as it opened, saw a doctor, and convinced him to prescribe me a dose of antibiotics.  My plan, as always, was to get on a Z pack (or something similar) and knock the sinus infection out in three of four days.

I filled the prescription, took the antibiotics Saturday morning and evening, then again Sunday morning.  I was feeling well enough Sunday evening to coach Joe's basketball practice at MBA.  Not much of a voice, scratchy throat, but overall, better.

Later Sunday evening, I decided to run a Covid-19 test, just to be sure, because a friend  was scheduled to mediate a difficult case of mine on Monday and Wednesday.  He is in his mid-60's and had a rough go of it with Covid-19 late in 2020, so I wanted to be sure I wasn't putting him at risk.

And, damn if I didn't test positive for Covid-19, again.  Second time in 2022.  Well, shit.

Fortunately, for reasons beyond the scope of this post, my mediation ended up being canceled Monday morning.  Of course, that didn't happen until I was sitting in the Factory, sipping my morning coffee, properly distanced, about to go to the office.  My plan had been to mediate by Zoom upstairs in our conference room, away from everyone else, and to use the side entrance to our office to go in and out, as needed.  I was going to meet my client outside or in the parking garage to talk, if necessary.

A different approach to Covid-19 in the latter part of the third year of the pandemic, to be sure.

It's ironic - I guess - because I've spent a lot of time thinking about how differently we, as a society, feel about Covid-19 in year 3.  I'm fascinated with the entire subject.  Our behaviors have changed so much as it relates to what we're willing to do to try to avoid getting Covid-19 and how we reach when we do get it.

For example, I'm sitting outside Dose right now, drinking coffee after finishing my breakfast of two scrambled eggs.  I'm not sitting inside, of course, because I'm still within the five day quarantine window of when I first experienced symptoms.  I did go inside, though, to place my order.  No mask.

I'll go to JP's basketball game today at MBA and sit away from everyone else.  I'll wear a mask and avoid coming in close contact with anyone.  But I'm still going to go.

I'm convinced my entire family had Covid-19 over Thanksgiving, when they were all coughing and had sore throats.  I can't prove it, of course, because people rarely test for Covid-19 anymore or so it seems.  As a society, we're firmly entrenched in the "don't test, don't tell" stage of the pandemic.  No one wants to know they have Covid-19 because no one wants to be quarantined for five days minimum.

It's been an easier ride this time around - at least so far - and for that I'm grateful.  Things did take a turn for the worse yesterday morning, however, when I woke up with the chills and body aches.  That subsided fairly quickly, though, and I've slept better, felt better, and not been as tired as I was last January when I had Covid-19.  

Really, it's felt like a sinus infection with a scratchy - not sore - throat.  I can handle that, even if it's a pain for my voice not to be as strong as it normally is.  Hell, anyone that spends much time around me probably appreciates a quieter me.  

I had a prescription for Paxlovid telephoned in on Sunday night and I picked it up on Monday morning.  The doctor I had a video consultation with through Cue Health - yep, these are the modern days - suggested I wait and see how I felt on Monday night and Tuesday before I decided if I wanted to take it or not.  The regimen is three pills, twice a day, for five days.  30 pills total.  In the end, I decided not to take the Paxlovid because my only risk factor is my age (50 +) and my symptoms weren't severe.  In the end, I hated to put that much of any drug in any body ever a five day period of time unless I absolutely had to do so.

So far, I've been taking it easy and working some from my office at home.  When my mediation canceled, it lightened my calendar considerably.  No running, which is killing me.  No bourbon or red wine, which is  killing me, too. (not really) We're holding of, for now, on decorating the Christmas tree until this weekend when, if I believe the CDC guidelines, I will no longer need to be in quarantine.  

Hopefully, I'll keep feeling better and I can run this weekend.  I don't plan on any lingering effects from Covid-19 but one never knows.  

So, for now, I'll isolate in the house and stick to the guest room and my office for the most part.  I'll work some and try to rest more than usual.  I'll read and watch movies on my iPad.  I might even nap with Angus - one of two cats, along with Mini-T, in my lap, like it did yesterday.  

If Covid-19 was going to catch me again, I'm glad it was before Christmas and after Thanksgiving, so I'm not missing holiday family time.   

A Night Out with Joe

Tuesday night, I rushed from work to MBA for parents' meeting for JP's middle school basketball team.  As we finished up and I was walking to my truck, I called home to see if I could pick up dinner.  I was looking forward to unwinding at home for a bit, then preparing for a mediation I had the following day.

Fate intervened, however, as Jude pointed out that Joe had noticed we had two tickets - through our longstanding hockey group - to the Predators vs. Ducks game that night.  The game was scheduled to start in 45 minutes, so we had to make a decision, quickly, if we were going to go.

When I got home, Jude told me Joe really wanted to go.  She has been under the weather, so I agreed to take him, albeit a bit grudgingly.  I was tired after a long day at work and I had more work to do, at home, which would need to be done at 10 p.m. or so, after the game.

No grumbling, though, because this is what we do as parents.  That's what I reminded myself of, anyway.  Also, Joe was really excited and it's not every day that I get a night out, alone, with him.

Because we live so close to downtown, we left at 6:45 p.m. and were parked and in Bridgestone in time for the puck drop to start the game.  We had a great time, of course, and saw the Predators' win an exciting game in overtime when the captain, Roman Josi, scored right in front of us (our seats are good ones), off a nifty pass from Matt Duchene.

In the end, really, it was a normal night out to the Predators' game with Joe.  We had so much fun together.  A little thing but everything, at least to me.  As JP grows older - he's off on a bus to see MBA vs. Baylor in Chattanooga for the state football championship tonight - I realize these times with the boys are fleeting.  Hell, everything is fleeting.  

So, I savored my night out at the Predators' game with Joe and got ready for my mediation after we got home from the game and I got Joe into bed.  I thought about how lucky we are to have the boys we have.  JP and Joe are the best.

Fatherhood.