HISTORY SPEAKS IN A LOUD VOICE FROM A ROOF TOP

History speaks in a loud voice, sometimes too loud. And if it tells something uncomfortable, the only thing louder is denial.

A boompdx reader checked in to ask about the Fox Theater posts. Why all the Broadway posts.

“All two of them?” I said.

People in quarantine start getting funny; they wonder if they need to obey the social distance rule.

The short answer is yes, obey the social distance rule, and then some.

In my role as a helpful jackass, or friendly needle, I’ve seen the benefit of social distance. I did social distancing while I was in cancer treatment; I do social distance when I write.

How does social distance help writers? The great Joyce Carol Oats said:

 “The only thing that’s bad for writing is being interrupted. You have to have time to write. And while that seems obvious, you’re probably living a life with a lot of interruptions.”

The problem with writing during quarantine is feeling like you’re being punished, of being in the hole, being in stir.

Writers can’t make the daily announcement to anyone within earshot: “I’m going in to the writing room and won’t be out for a few hours.”

Chances are that announcement is more a relief to others in the house. After they’ve seen enough of you, less is more.

Why History Speaks From The Fox

The Fox Theater had the sort of stuff movie people dream of owning for their home theater. They loved the chance of scoring rows of red velvet seats so they could say, “They came from the Fox Theater. Do you remember the Fox?” at their next movie party.

These are people who role play in their homes. Maybe they’re the ticket taker, the projectionist, the producer, anything to prove they’re more than a pile of broken dreams trying to put themselves together.

“For tonight’s viewing pleasure we have vacation video from Paris,” says no serious movie dork.

But if vacation pictures are on the schedule, at lease they’ll be shown in a classic room decorated with real props.

Take another look at the top photo. The roof is three stories up. Why is that important?

In my history museum duties I spoke to some of the people hired, or who volunteered, to help collect artifacts. The FOX sign was one such thing.

For background, museums are not a hot bed of hard asses. Blue collar grinders find things to do other than sit at a desk and look at a clock while they wait to retire.

Older museum men rest on their personal past; older museum women feel sorry for older museum men when they’ve aged together.

Is it sad when the big dogs stop barking; when they can’t see or hear or see as well as they used to?

It is when they’re the last to know.

Part of my job was to cover for the old guys, and the ladies who couldn’t handle the weight of collecting history.

That’s how I found myself on a ladder three stories above Broadway on a chilly weekend morning. A crane crew came to remove the FOX sign and ask me if I wanted to climb up and inspect the job before they hooked everything up.

As a true Oregonian growing up in North Bend, I’ve climbed and fallen out of enough trees to last a lifetime. The last thing I wanted to do was climb the ladder.

But these were construction guys, demo guys, and it felt like their invitation to climb the ladder was taking a shot at soft museum people.

I was a married man with young children who would need a father around. I could have bluffed my way out of climbing that ladder with the same bullshit the older museum guys used to excuse themselves. None of them could have climbed to the top to save themselves.

I climbed to save museum man honor. And I was spooked all the way up and all the way down.

Sometimes it feels scary to do things, so you do them even if you’re frightened. And I was, and I did it.

The Coronavirus Connection

History speaks today when we get reminded of why we’re quarantined.

Stay home to avoid getting sick, avoid getting someone else sick, and to show you know how to follow good advice.

When the neighbor lady wants to talk about her recent vacation and explain how her resort isn’t one of ‘those places’ where people get sick, and neither was their flight, or the airport they walked through, don’t shun them for their ignorance.

Don’t shun them for their ignorance, their willful stupidity, or lack of any awareness of much that doesn’t directly affect them.

You could listen with a pleasant smile to hide your “OK Boomer” internal monologue. But first check their age, their retirement status, and wait for them to say the magical words.

Wait long enough and you’ll hear this:

“Oh well, we all have to die of something.”

That’s your cue to leave. And leave right away before these words escape from your brain:

I don’t have to risk death because you’re too old and stupid to see what’s coming.

We all have to die of something, but I don’t want to share the moment with you.

Is that what you heard from the news channels you tune into, the same ones who said it was all a hoax to humiliate the president?

I’m writing posts that reflect how history speaks to different people. Sometimes they listen, more often not. If you read blogs, then you’ve already got an opinion on things and want a different point of view. You want something to comfort your own beliefs, or something to prove them wrong.

Here’s my take: When I post new work on Facebook, on either my personal page, or the boomerpdx page, and get one visitor, I’m happy for that one visit. It’s one more than I had, and it might be The One.

Writers believe in The One, the one influential reader who sees beyond the fluff of most online writing, who sees the importance of the work and makes an offer you can’t refuse.

Coronavirus makes a similar offer to the most vulnerable demographic. From WebMD:

“The elderly and people with chronic diseases have the highest risk. If you’re not sure if you’re at a higher risk, talk to your doctor,” said Dr. Susan Bleasdale, a spokesperson for the Infectious Diseases Society of America.

To everyone at low risk: Look at family pictures. Look, there’s mom and dad. There’s grandma and grandpa. In the near future do you want to be tagged as the little shit who killed them because you just had to meet your pals?

Stay home. Stay down and wait for the all clear sign. If you start shorting out on patience and kindness, read more from boomerpdx.

Leave comments and we can argue what’s better, drowning alone in the ocean after your ship sinks, or drowning in a bed after you broke quarantine?

History speaks to you. Are you listening?