Love in the Time of Corona: Update Fifteen: Jeanette Reyes-Fuchs, Playing Her Part at the IsoFac

 One of the more interesting changes in the life of our family -- one I realize I've not really mentioned up to now -- is that my wife Jeanette took a second job nearly a year ago as a call screener for the City of Austin's Covid Response effort.  She goes in every weekday, immediately after getting out of her day job for Austin ISD, and works from 5 pm to 10 pm, and Saturdays from 12 to 8.  She works at a hotel which has been repurposed as an Isolation Facility (IsoFac) for people who need to isolate due to Coronavirus.  

She takes calls from people, in both English and Spanish, and determines whether or not they're eligible to stay at the facility.  If they are, she makes sure they have transportation and are aware of all the processes, protocols, and procedures they'll need to follow during their period of isolation.

Now knowing Jeanette as I do, I never had any doubt that she would do the job well.  She is one of the hardest workers I've ever known.  Like her father before her, she takes work very seriously, never doing a job halfway.  As she always says, "Los vagos trabajan doble," a popular Spanish saying which loosely translates to "Lazy bums work twice as hard."  

Now that we've been stranded in our home, thanks to the Winter Storm of 2021, the IsoFac is patching calls over to her cell phone.  As a result, I'm witnessing her good work first-hand.

"And you are Covid-positive?"

"Anyone else?"

"And how old are you?"

"And your daughter is also positive?"

These are what the "typical" calls have sounded like.  Now, in the midst of this freeze, and the subsequent collapse of our utilities, things have changed.

"How long have you been without heat?"

"And you've been sitting in your car for how long?"

"And the baby is with you in the car?"

"Are you experiencing any symptoms at the moment."

She remains the consummate professional, well trained, skilled at helping people stay calm in dire situations.

During a break between calls, she sits at our dining room table in front of her laptop, and watches a fitness video on her phone.  

"You okay?" I ask, realizing that despite having it better than most of the people who call her, these conversations must take their toll.

She smiles at me.  

She looks tired.

I've never been prouder of her than I am right now.

Jeanette Reyes-Fuchs, 2020

Love in the Time of Corona: Update Fourteen - Valentine's Day 2021

The two of us, pre-Corona, out on a date

 We've been married for 6,960 days.  Happy Valentine's Day to my lovely bride.  I've made it clear in previous writings many times how I feel about this holiday -- that it's a shameless cash grab by the Chocolatier-Florist-Greeting Card-Industrial Complex, and yadda-yadda, blah-blah-blah.

The fact is -- and I've probably written about this, too -- that what I feel about Valentine's Day is completely beside the point.  This so-called "holiday" is decidedly not about me at all.

And that is fine.  As it should be.  I enjoy making my lovely bride feel loved.  Plan to do it for many years to come.  That being said, I woke up this morning and thought, "Shit.  I need to head over to Walmart and grab a card and some flowers."  Unfortunately, our unusually cold winter continues, thanks, apparently, to something called the "Polar Vortex" (sounds like a Nick Cage movie).  So when my tires started sliding on the icy roads, I decided not to tempt fate.  I turned around before even leaving the neighborhood, and re-parked the car in the driveway.

Then, the googling began -- "Free printable Valentine's Day card for spouse."  (Yes, honey, if you're reading this, I did say "free."  It's not a comment on your worth to me; it's about saving for that Tuscany trip we've been talking about.)

I found a card I liked that allows you to calculate the number of days you've been together -- thus the 6,960 for us -- and printed it up.  I then found some strawberries in the fridge, carved them into hearts, placed them on a nice white plate, and brought those items to her, along with her morning coffee.  She was so touched by the gesture she posted a photo with the comment, "It's all in the details. Thank you honey."

First of all, let me say that it was, quite literally, the least I could do.  Imma slide my soap box back over here, and stand up on it for a hot minute.

For those of us who do NOT make six or seven figures every year (and I understand and appreciate I have it better than many), these holidays, lovely though they are, bring an element of dread.  They activate that judgmental scold, that inner voice that asks the question, "Are you good enough? Your Facebook friend from high school is taking his wife to Mallorca for Valentine's Day, and you printed out a free card.  Look at you."  Or "Your next-door neighbor bought her kid a brand new car for his birthday.  What did you get yours for his?  Do you even remember?  What kind of parent are you?"

I know, I know.  "Buck up, Buttercup," right?  This is America.  This is the world as we know it.  As we've made it.  Still.  Makes you think, doesn't it?

Happy Valentine's Day to all!

A simple gesture to show my love

Wiseguys, Puppy Dogs, and Babies: A Movie Memory

This morning, as I worked on my daily journal writing, I noticed I was dropping more "F-bombs" than usual, due to what I've decided to call the Scorsese Effect.  I showed my sixteen-year-old son Jackson "Goodfellas" last night.  He was more than ready for it.  We'd watched "The Departed," as part of a Jack Nicholson series, so I decided to branch off into a Scorsese series, since he enjoyed that one so much.

He loved it, of course.  This may be me responding to that nagging, puritanical voice inside my head asking how I could show my teenage child such a graphic film, but I think "Goodfellas" is more of a deterrent to a life of crime than many people realize.  Henry's journey is a harrowing one, after all.  I doubt there are many young viewers -- though I'm sure there are a few -- who leave this movie thinking, "I wanna be a gangster."  You definitely understand, and empathize with why Henry gets into that life, but you also see that it turns him into a "schlub" in the end, wreaking death and destruction along the way.

Joe Pesci as Tommy DeVito in Martin Scorsese's 1990 picture "Goodfellas" 

I've got my own memory of the first time I went to see "Goodfellas."  I took my dad and stepmother Judy to the cinema on Central Avenue in Hartsdale  if my failing memory serves in this instance.  (According to my brother it's an Alamo Drafthouse now.)  My father and I had bonded through our love of both Mafia stories, -- thanks to "The Godfather," and "Godfather II," specifically -- and of Scorsese.  Dad was a huge fan of both "Taxi Driver" and "King of Comedy." 

"He's so good at capturing 'lonely monsters,'" was what he said about Marty.

When we emerged from our two-and-a-half hour experience, I turned to my father and asked what he'd thought.

"Definitely an instant classic," he said.

"Right?" I answered excitedly, shifting my attention to Judy.  She appeared less enthused.

"But..." my dad continued.

"What?" I asked.

"At our age," Judy smiled, "when we go into the video store..."

She trailed off, probably not wanting to be unkind or ruffle my proverbial feathers.  Although I'd known her since age 4 or 5 (we were next-door neighbors for a couple of years) our stepmother-stepson relationship was still new; my mother had passed away only a couple of years earlier.

"We're looking for movies about puppy dogs and babies," my dad added, finishing the thought.  

"Puppy dogs and babies," I said aloud.

Okay.  Food for thought.

Puppy dogs.  And babies.

A puppy dog.  Oh, and a baby.

As I continue to curate the programing for my current Scorsese film festival, I can't immediately think of a picture he's made that features either.  I may do "Gangs of New York" next, or maybe get crazy and re-watch "After Hours."  Not sure how it will hold up, but it's one of my faves.  Or we could go on a DeNiro tangent and look at "Midnight Run," or continue down the Pesci road with "My Cousin Vinny."  Thinking we could use a comedy next.  Not quite puppies and babies, but a good comedy like either of these could help "cleanse the emotional palate" as we move on together in this wonderful endeavor of father-and-son movie watching.