As we move into August, this will be the fifth month of the year in which we are under varying degrees of lockdown or quarantine, something that should have ended last month but which didn’t because far too many Americans lack anything resembling self-control or discipline.
For those of us in California, it all began abruptly on a Friday afternoon at the end of March. March 20, to be precise, although for those of us in the arts, we’d seen the writing on the wall, and live performance and theater took the pre-emptive action of shutting down a week before that.
So my theater job and performance career went into permanent hiatus the Sunday before, and then my day job put us on indefinite furlough for who knew how long.
Somehow, I managed to be fortunate in that I was less than a year away from the end of a previously active unemployment claim, so I went online, re-upped, and there was absolutely no gap in benefits. Sure, the payment from the state was ridiculously small, but the $600 a week from the Federal government really helped, not to mention that $1,200 stimulus check, but you know what?
First off, that stimulus allowed me to get some very necessary repairs done on my car that I couldn’t have afforded otherwise, meaning that I plowed it right back into the local economy and gave other people jobs.
Meanwhile, that Federal unemployment allowed me to keep paying rent, meaning that my landlords kept making money, so they could keep pouring money back into state government in the form of property taxes.
And what does it say when a $600 a week payment from the Federal government (aka $2,600 a month) is more than a lot of people make already?
Hint: Time to either raise the minimum wage to something actually livable, create a guaranteed basic income, or… no, those are the options, really.
You know what I did do with no day job and all that money? I started creating my ass off. What else could I do? I was locked up at home, my dog died less than six weeks into it (and I couldn’t have afforded that without that Federal money) leaving me even lonelier, I started doing improv via Zoom, along with play readings the same way.
And so it went for three months. Oh yeah… somewhere along all that, I finally succumbed to what seems to have been the Great Male Fashion Trend of 2020: Shave your goddamn head.
Yep. Though I’d never done it before, and though there was a good gap between when I’d ordered the clippers and finally used them, there was finally a day in July, after over five months of no haircuts, when I finally just said “Fuck it,” took off the guard, let the thing loose and, ta-da… I was bald for the first time in my life since I plopped out of my Mama’s hoo-hah.
Surprisingly, I didn’t half mind it. I was a bit disturbed to realize that I did not have a 666 birthmark somewhere on my head, although I did have a big mole on t upper back right side of my skull.
But, even more surprisingly, just over two weeks after my head was as bare as a baby’s ass (or as mine) the hair had substantially grown back which, really, was encouraging.
All of which kind of skips the original intent of this Sunday nibble, which was this: On March 20, 2020, everything in L.A. shut down. Zoom kept performance alive, at least among my Improv Theater and my Improv Group… but otherwise, everything went apocalyptic.
Then, around the beginning of July, my day-job boss began to try to figure out how to get things going again. Now, technically, we were actually an essential business, but he didn’t want to endanger anyone.
So… he enlisted me and another staffer to write the COVID safety guidelines, which we did, and then he figured out that most of us could work remotely.
I now have a small desk next to my personal desk with a laptop and VOIP phone on it, and I didn’t actually have hard-wired internet here until I had to for work. Truth to tell, I’m already really appreciating the speed of the connection over what I had before (don’t ask).
But it wasn’t until earlier in July that I slowly started to work my back to working full time because, honestly, the mental and physical toll of this whole thing has been draining. But… I am managing the 12 foot commute from my bedroom in the mornings, grateful for the 3 foot commute home in the evenings, and still a little boggled at the concept that I have a clone of my office phone sitting on my desk at home.
This is probably going to be life for a while now, actually — those of us who can sheltered in place, and taking care of every last bit of tech in order to contact the outside world and, you know, the more I think about it, the more I think that it’s a great thing.
And, on top of that, I’m the more grateful for a boss who realized that this would be our future status quo back in March, so that now I have gotten (without any outside contact whatsoever) a laptop, a cable internet connection, and an office phone via VOIP, and since the beginning of July I’ve been slowly working back to working full time.
Did I mention that it has the shortest commutes ever?
This just may work for my industry, actually, and that’s probably a good thing. Or a great thing. But, most of all, it reminds me of one thing: Like other landmark years in human history, 2020 is going to be set down as a huge dividing line, before and which after things were not the same.
Is it strange sitting in my own living room and taking business calls and all that? Oh, hell yeah. But is it also super convenient, and does it make me inclined to work really weird hours just because I can? That, too.
Hey, remove the commute, it saves me a lot of time and money. And remove the need for so much space for office workers, it saves employers money too, in terms of renting office space, paying utilities and taxes on it, and so on.
So… here’s an idea for the future, one that our elected officials might want to keep an eye on.
If a lot of businesses can be converted to working remotely and a lot of those offices shrink their spaces accordingly, then here’s what we can do:
Regarding the now abandoned office space, convert it into low-income housing or, in the case of large commercial structures like office buildings or malls, convert it directly into free transitional housing for the homeless.
For those businesses that reduce expenses via renting less property, paying for fewer utilities, or so on, establish a state agency which will help them determine how much they’ve saved through the changes, how much per capita that represents for each of their employees, and how they can re-invest 90% of it back into their staff directly while keeping 10% of the benefits themselves, tax free.
I think there was also a provision in here where all elected officials, from city level on up to federal, were all required to be paid minimum wage, but since that would be raised to at least $45 an hour immediately, that might help everyone.