Pandemic Diary IV

The Plague Releases Dark Forces

Detail from “Constance”, Albert Pinkham Ryder (✝1917)

March-April 2020

Leaving the Gulf coast with our RV trailer in tow was a well worn path across Mississippi and in order to avoid a stretch of Interstate towards Jackson traveling through Kosciusko where we crossed the venerable Natchez Trace and continued northwest. Since leaving the coast we had not talked to anyone and there did not seem to be any noticeable changes in the eternal rural landscape.

In those days we kept a CB radio in the van but the use of the Citizens Band radio network was much diminished in the last couple decades due to the popularity of cell phones and other communications devices. Yet there was still radio traffic at times during wrecks or hazards on the Interstate. As we headed north on I-55 Annie turned on the CB to see what the truckers 🚛 were talking about.

There was plenty of routine chatter about loads, destinations, and shipping rates but beneath the average talk was interspersed comments about what was happening with this "epidemic thing". There were reports of people getting sick and offices discussing limited hours but, they wondered aloud, was recent illness nothing new or was this the Covid. There was already talk of panic in some cities. There were rumors about police action and the national guard, but nothing concrete. Truckers are a tough minded group of people who live in a very fluid environment but there was already an apprehension about the future of their jobs.

That added to my own funk relative to the past weekend and the news of canceled events across the nation. The trucker's anxiety only reinforced my own in regards to the future.

The next twenty miles or so was no help as we began to negotiate our way around Memphis which is not my favorite place. It reminded me of some less than happy times working shows around Grind City as we managed the crumbling I-55 bridge across the Mississippi River landing in the Arkansas delta country. After some overnight rest at a campground we drove about an hour then we passed Jonesboro and soon after crossed the Black River into the Ozarks.

It was another 220 miles of twisty, toss, and tumble roads to our studio base in the Missouri hills. Upon arriving everything was normal on the outside but it was not long when we started to get a glimpse of the new reality awaiting us.

A few minutes on cable news soon bent my attention to the possibilities of global epidemic disaster. Speculation was running amok and the government's briefing in the beginning did little to tamp down the fear. The hand wringing was constant and took on the character of a slow moving train wreck. Through the skillful art of video production the train cars of circumstances just kept up a noisy collision day after day for months to come.

The internet did what the internet does, delivered every news bit, rumor, and sensational tweet in a vast game of one upping that never ends. News was tainted with speculation by legitimate sources and sources with ulterior motives on the same page. My email box did its best to act as an amplified echo chamber as people shared the latest scrap of data. The whole Information Age was totally out of control spending its built up credibility collateral in a few months time.

Most of America had been safely ensconced in their hometown with friends and family as this story developed but we had witnessed a rolling panic reaction develop from one town to the next as the sketchy news of a new disease slowly morphed into the movie script of The Andromeda Strain and Outbreak. Wherever we went a little more was added to the manuscript while the anxiety built up in me and my wife with nothing to do but continue down the road to the next show and the next dose of unpalatable reality.

At our base studio in the Ozarks I was watching art events being dispassionately canceled one after another in my email inbox. It was a sickening shot of bitter medicine designed to make my already shaky emotional condition even more stretched and contorted. Unlike most people we had been riding this pale horse for months and the most dire career nightmares were now becoming manifest. Writing my book became an exercise in controlling madness.

Within weeks money💸 started to be a real problem as our savings evaporated. Everyone in our business was having some sort of issue with liquidity, how to turn inventory into cash without a retail venue and wholesale marketing was frozen.

We began to reconnect our digital sales and see if there was any relief. Website sales were never good for art jewelry because the medium is very tactile (dependent on personal touch and involvement) but we tried to expand it anyway working over our digital and postal mailing lists with little success.

Friends and family and followers (especially those who were still working) recognized our plight and took advantage of the discounts we were offering. But that can only go so far to relieve the cash flow problem. Although very grateful for their purchases we knew that a few individuals could not help in the long run. But each sale we made kept us going for a little while longer although the bottom continued to get closer.

No art shows, limited travel, no wholesale, and few online sales was our daily routine. Every day the walls got closer while society in general floundered along with us unless you were in one of the fortunate classes who continued to get a paycheck.

At some point there was talk of the government intervening to supplement unemployment benefits. Okay I thought, but we had been self employed so no help there. Then there was talk of gig workers, temporary, and event staff being included. I thought, “What’s a gig worker?”

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