I had my last vaccine shot more than three weeks ago. And though my life hasn’t yet appreciably changed, I am finally ready to make modest shifts in my self-protective, constricted daily routine. I know there may be, for a time, new variants and mutations cropping up threatening us — nothing remains predictable with this virus. But I think its time, weather permitting, to meet people again and even take pleasure in sitting in outdoor cafes drinking coffee, talking, and reading a newspaper. I plan to be watchful and safe and continue to wear a mask and keep a social distance, but even the smallest gesture towards an ordinary life will make me a bit happier.
Meanwhile, I am still thinking about politics, including the doused and beleaguered Andrew Cuomo, who clearly has behaved egregiously and oppressively towards a number of young women. While never known as the most delicate or sensitive of men, he was usually charged with bullying and intimidating mostly other male politicians or subordinates. He has now opened himself up to harsh criticism and an investigation from his many political enemies, joined this time by others who had applauded him for his calming and truth-telling behavior during the pandemic. (Cuomo has the added political problem of playing loose with the number of nursing home deaths.)
But despite his Emmy-winning TV stardom and his legislative accomplishments that include creating the most aggressive climate change program in the nation, some victories for the LGBTQ community, and establishing a farmworkers Bill of Rights among other positive actions, he’s in trouble. I am not sure where I stand. I have never been a fan of the ruthless Cuomo. But I have always been impressed by his political effectiveness, and it’s what the state and city, enmeshed in a profound economic crisis, need most now — an experienced manager.
Still, though his transgressions may have not been on the level of the vile, porcine Weinstein, they were not totally out of character for Cuomo. Cuomo has never been touted as a sexual predator, but he is widely known for operating as a compulsive micro-manager and for being given to raging, vitriolic personal attacks. A staffer said: “There was a general sense that when the governor was in the building that you were to walk on eggshells.” For the moment, I am holding off judgment to see what findings the investigation brings. So far, 40 percent of voters say he should resign, while 55 percent say he should not. Most Democrats are sticking with him: Only 21 percent are saying he should leave office. But it’s hard to see that there will be a fourth term in Cuomo’s cloudy future.
There are plenty of other dark political events to fasten onto daily — repression and shootings in Myanmar, Navalny heading for one of Putin’s most abusive prisons, abductions of schoolchildren in Nigeria — but I am looking for some relief, not more political angst. Though I usually have little problem conjuring up beguiling past memories, the pandemic has fixated me more on the present than the past. Still, I always return to my times in London, those with my wife and daughter, and those when I traveled there alone. My time in London goes back to 1971, but I fear I may never walk in the city again, except second-hand, through images on British TV and film.
I don’t want to turn our years there into a golden age — it had its limits and flaws — but I used to easily escape into London reveries about: long walks in green, stunning parks that always revealed something new; drinks with friends in garden pubs; shopping mornings with my net bag for fruit, vegetables, and cheese in a charming but not chic neighborhood filled with small, unique shops; and lecturing on American Studies to smart adults at a Polytechnic in Central London. I can still conjure those memories and many others when I wish to, but these days they don’t come as easily. This last dismal year has undermined my capacity for pleasure, and I hope the spring and summer will grant me moments where I can smile and laugh again.
