“What good is warmth without the cold to give it sweetness?” --John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
Walking out into 92-degree heat felt like walking into a sauna. I am someone who doesn’t get hot or complain about the heat. The fiery blast opened up my pores, and I have to say, my skin is the dewiest that it’s been since the drying air of winter. I insist on wearing my mask. I have to do it at all day work anyway, but now I’m getting weird looks, much like the beginning of the pandemic. Other people are going mask-free now that New York City is over 40% vaccinated, and they even held multiple fireworks displays last month celebrating this. But at 92-degrees, I take my mask off, just for fifteen minutes, while walking to work. I mostly worry that I’m exposed to so many people every day, and if anyone is a vector for Delta, it’s probably me, and I would pass it on to other people. So far, we know that Pfizer and Moderna have some protection against Delta, anywhere in the 13-88% range, depending on what you read. Still, we also know that Delta is becoming the primary strain in the US. It is already the primary strain in the UK, with 95% of the cases. About half (46%) of those cases are in vaccinated people over 50 years old; however, since the UK has an almost 80% first dose and 63% both dose rate, you can expect that most cases these days WILL be in vaccinated people.
I’ve been sick of talking about COVID for a long time, and people are sick of hearing about it. I haven’t thought about it much in the past two months because work has been so crazy. As everyone got vaccinated, people are going to the doctor and the emergency room again after sitting on their various ailments for over a year (pun intended). Hemorrhoids and anal fissures and fistulas, oh my! Diverticulitis, oh gee! But the reason it’s been on my mind again is that my COVID comic, documenting the first months of the pandemic, was accepted to Graphic Medicine’s UnConvention, and hopefully will gain a larger audience as I polish it up to submit it to the anthology. I don’t know if it could be a standalone work or what, but I’m glad I can do something with it.
The vaccinations have also led to more travel. While L’s work has always been busy, I’ve asked her repeatedly if there has been an uptick in infected travelers, and it seems that there isn’t. Or perhaps travelers aren’t getting tested anymore. I know out in Miami, where we were for a few days, and in the Hamptons, where we are for a few days, no one is wearing masks anymore, and again, we look silly walking into the grocery store with our masks on. My only thought is, A) I still don’t trust that everyone who is maskless has actually been vaccinated, which has been my gripe since the very beginning, and B) the science has been wrong before. How easily humans forget, but it took months to get widespread testing for everyone, more months to put a mask mandate in effect, and even then, we had fueled discussions about whether COVID is airborne or droplet-borne. I am the first to admit that science is an art and a science. As exact as it’s supposed to be, it’s always imperfect, and I think we need to hang onto our precautions a little bit longer.
After the city heat, the damp air of the East End seems impossibly precious, so much so that we insisted on sitting on Montauk Ocean Beach moments before the impending storm, despite the strong gusts and the ocean salt splattering our faces. The beach was deserted but for a small blackbird. (see photo above) We laid our towels on the sand in front of a massive log of driftwood, weather-polished white, and leaned against it, a perfect backrest. L insisted on leaving our phones (4 in total) in the cottage. We stared at the ocean and told stories, and my anxieties eased. The only way for me to get away, these days, is to be hours away.
The Atlantic up here is wild, caramel cascades with a thick foam top. The Atlantic in Miami is alive, thick with seagrass blooming in a field of blue. I cannot help but compare different views of the same ocean and keep my eyes peeled for the puffs of whales that might come through it, way offshore. Around this time of year, the Northern Atlantic humpbacks start making their way south. So far, I’ve seen Northern Pacific humpbacks in Alaska and Hawaii and observed the Northern Atlantic humpback (once) off the shore of Southampton. Still, I haven’t yet seen them in the south, and I haven’t seen the ones that supposedly winter in Fiji. In any case, this stormy weather is a favorite for whales, or at least I think so. They can puff and play in the frothy waves, undetected by meek human eyes onshore.
When the raindrops started to fall and the chill set in, we quickly gathered our belongings and ran back to the cottage, where we warmed up with hot showers and hot bean soup. We also had a Hawaiian pizza delivered, and it reminded us of our early days in college when we discovered that we both liked Hawaiian pizza. I think it takes a particular type of person to like Hawaiian pizza, and if you do, chances are that I’m definitely friends with you, though if you don’t, I’m probably friends with you anyway. But who doesn’t like the hot, cold, salty, sweet combination of pineapples, ham, and cheese on dough? There are abominations in the food world, but this is not one of them. If you like apples and Brie or a grown-up grilled cheese with poached pears, or bacon jam, or (gasp!) a McGriddle… okay, I don’t like McGriddles, but I am okay with it if you do.
Pride Month is over, but inside it’s always Pride! More news to come in the next few months. Hope you’re doing well in your neck of the woods, whether you’re wary of traveling or travel-weary.
Things to see:
My current research on Early Age Onset Colorectal Cancer: Abstract presented here.
Newest Baseline Med post on (one aspect of) Health Inequity
“A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ.” —John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
Until next month, always go black tie!