Blog Posts - Iowa Scribe

Notes From Quarantine, DAY 11, Monday, Nov. 16

11/16/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAY 11
Monday, Nov. 16
Made too much spaghetti sauce yesterday, the sauce to noodle ratio was 2:1. Had a discussion with the masked woman who lives upstairs as to whether to leave the sauce in the refrigerator or freeze it for an easy dinner in a week or two. I suggested we freeze it, she decided to leave it in the fridge, because she might want to eat some tomorrow. She is the boss. That’s the surest sign that she is approaching full recovery from the virus.

Today’s observations:
I used to drink about 2-3 Cokes (or Pepsis, I do not discriminate) per day, now I drink 2-3 per week. Not only do I feel better, but it tastes so much better when Coke is a treat instead of a part of the regular diet.

Once, when I was in college, I lost one of my part-time jobs for reasons that were never specified. They left the message on my answering machine. I pretended that I didn’t get the message, and went in to work anyway. They let me hang out for couple hours before someone called security and had me physically dragged out. Pretty sure something like this is going to happen to Trump.

I listened to the top ten most popular songs on the charts, as ranked by Spotify, late last night and I’m pretty sure that eight of them weren’t music at all, and definitely shouldn’t be called “songs.” The other two were actually songs, but they were bad songs.

You might think that Kirk Cousins sucks, but as of tonight he has now won more Monday Night Football games than all of you combined.

According to clinical trials, I am 94.5 percent effective. They have no idea how to efficiently distribute me, though.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Wolfgang Van Halen, Ozzy Osbourne, David Lee Roth, Essential Sound Project, Elf, Rainbow, Black Sabbath, Dio, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Overall status: Frosty.

Notes From Quarantine, DAYS 9 AND 10, Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 14-15

11/15/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAYS 9 AND 10
Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 14-15
The masked woman who lives upstairs and I raked the entire yard yesterday, then I had some Tylenol. She seems to be OK, not 100 percent, but close to normal. She returns to her job in education tomorrow, hopefully with students, although there’s a good possibility that will not be the case. The virus is spiking in our area, and while people get sick and die, and hospital rooms fill and have no space for additional patients, other people don’t seem to care or understand. I was told that several people at my office are either positive or quarantined or both. Four different dear friends or relatives messaged us today to tell us either they or someone they loved was sick and getting tested. Two of those tests, thankfully, came back negative. Have avoided Facebook and other social media for most of Saturday and much of the day Sunday, because it stresses me out. Enjoyed watching several football games the last two days and didn’t care who won them, just wanted to watch. Sometimes it’s a refreshing thing to just enjoy the game and not invest in it emotionally. The masked woman who lives upstairs was able to venture out and acquire provisions today, and I cooked us my world famous spaghetti dinner. We ate together for the first time in weeks, seated far apart on opposite sides of the room, watching the newest installment of The Mandalorian. Sadly, it is The Way.

Today’s observations:
They really need to choose between calling it Hardee’s or calling it Carl’s Jr. Come on, man. Just pick one.

I consider Jim Harbaugh my personal nemesis, and even I feel kind of bad for Jim Harbaugh right now.

Toyota kind of blind-sided me with their “Super Mom” Christmas commercial. I didn’t cry, but I got something in my eye.

Got a pool. Got a pond. Pond would be good for you.

If Hayden Fry were still alive, he would’ve stopped the spread of COVID-19. That’s just the facts, right there.

An old friend sent me a bunch of old photos of a bunch of my other old friends yesterday, and I was reminded that growing up in the 1980s was just about the best thing ever. We all went a little batshit crazy with the hair, though.

Convicted? No. Never convicted.

Some emotions are survival instincts, and some emotions are choices. If you can figure out which is which, you’ll have a much easier time of it, and so will those who care about you.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Budgie, Rush, Goo Goo Dolls, Kings X.

Overall status: Unavoidably detained.

Notes From Quarantine, DAYS 7 AND 8, Thursday and Friday, Nov. 12-13

11/13/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAYS 7 AND 8
Thursday and Friday, Nov. 12-13

Slow cooked pork cutlets in BBQ sauce today, and the masked woman who lives upstairs could smell them. They will be delicious tomorrow, as instead of eating them tonight, we chose to order pizza from a locally-owned establishment that actually cares about the community. It was delicious. The masked woman who lives upstairs returned to work on Thursday, as her public quarantine has ended. Strangely, she still needs to remain socially distanced from me, as my quarantine is not scheduled to end until next Tuesday. I still have no symptoms and my test was negative, but my quarantine remains. Additionally, the hospital that administers my preventative chemo treatment told me that I must remain separated from the masked woman for two additional days, or they would not admit me for my appointment next Friday. The masked woman who lives upstairs indicates her return to teaching schoolchildren was tiring and most unusual, as her students were given Thursday and Friday off, yet the teachers were still required to attend. I believe it was ancient Greek philosopher and sage Epicurus who once said, “a teacher without students is not a teacher, but is, potentially, a serial killer. Don’t give her any sharp objects.”

Today’s observations:

With the possible exception of “Rocky,” the movie “Breaking Away” is the most goddamn inspiring fictional sports move ever made, and I’ll fight you on that.

We have realized during quarantine that we like chocolate milk a lot more than we thought we did.

Johnny took that golden fiddle and just kicked the devil’s fat ass right out of Georgia, didn’t he?

People who choose to hate you only win if you choose to hate them back. So when you punch them in the throat, do it out of love.

The problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, but the current price of beans is $11.46 per bushel, so depending on the size of that hill, our problems might be pretty valuable.

I have opinions and stuff about things.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Fleetwood Mac, Neil Young, Ramones, Georgia Satellites, Scorpions, Roger Waters, Alanis Morrisette, P!nk, Joan Jett, Motorhead and Meredith Wilson.

Overall status: The Shizzle.

Notes From Quarantine, DAY 6, Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2020

11/11/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAY 6, Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2020
The masked woman who lives upstairs cooked bacon today. That in itself is not remarkable, although I always appreciate when she does it. What is remarkable? She SMELLED the bacon as she cooked it. She lost her sense of smell several days ago, due to the virus, and in the middle of cooking the bacon today, she realized she could actually smell. I see this as a positive sign, although this revelation inspired me to immediately take a shower. Later, we experimented with other scents, and she was able to smell some of them, but not others, although none of them are as wonderfully odiferous as bacon. It was a fascinating experiment, and I look forward to smelling more things with her tomorrow.

Today’s observations:
As a part of my job today, I was called cowardly by one tough guy, and was also told that my articles are awful by another. Both of these accusations came in Facebook comments sections, because that’s where real men fight. Both also actually thought they were telling me something I didn’t already know.

Hush, children. Grown-ups are talking about grown-up things. Go to your safe space.

A lot more people are cooking and ingesting meth than anyone realizes. Even some of the ones cooking and ingesting it don’t realize it.

The best place to eat in town is also the county’s most efficient super-spreader of COVID. And no one gives a damn, because, bourbon wings! Yum!

I have a handful of odd, recurring dreams. I am not going to tell you about any of them. I’m especially not going to tell you about the one where I’m fishing for walleye with a giant squirrel, Arnold Palmer and Raquel Welch, and a bunch of penguins swim past us.

I’ve never shot a man, but I would. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it.

I haven’t worn jammies since about 1978, I think. The last pair of jammies I had were Minnesota Vikings jammies, they were itchy as hell, full of static electricity, and I think they were doused in some kind of flame-retardant chemical so I wouldn’t burn to death in my sleep. Best jammies ever, I think.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Pink Floyd, Van Hagar, Peter Gabriel, 50 Cent, Ray Charles.

Overall status: Balls.

Notes From Quarantine, DAYS 4 AND 5, Monday, Nov. 9 and Tuesday, Nov. 10

11/10/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAYS 4 AND 5
Monday, Nov. 9 and Tuesday, Nov. 10

The masked woman who lives upstairs seems much improved. She talks of some congestion and an occasional cough, but little else. She still is bereft of odor detection, which is troubling. A burst of energy from her yesterday inspired her to dust everything in about 20 square acres of area. My entire day consisted of working remotely, yesterday, which was fine. My necessary scheduled medical treatments were cancelled Tuesday, and it will be at least 10 days before I can get them. Just another example of how this virus threatens people’s health, even when they aren’t infected with it. Learned today that even though the masked woman upstairs can end her public quarantine in two days, she and I still need to quarantine from each other for a week longer. Was extremely sleepy today, slept through most of the morning, woke up and had lunch, did some work, then slept through most of the afternoon.

Today’s observations:
The next person who tells me to get more Vitamin D will be punched in the throat, virtually. I have six doctors, who all examine me thoroughly, regularly. I diligently follow their advice. Why would someone with absolutely no medical training, who has absolutely no idea how much Vitamin D I am getting or not getting, presume to know that I need more Vitamin D? Thanks guys, I know you mean well, but you don’t know what the hell you’re taking about.

When I call people idiots, it’s only because it’s not polite to call them assholes. I don’t talk that way, do you? I don’t. Do you?

OK, let me get this straight, Mitchy — there’s something illegitimate about the ballots that elected Joe Biden … but … The ballots that elected all the Senators and Representatives are totally legit … but … They’re the same ballots. You’re a clown, Mitchy, you’re a clown.

When I watch the movie “W” it actually makes me like George W. Bush.

I miss the TV show "Cheers."

Today’s quarantine playlist: Gordon Lightfoot, Bob Dylan and Metallica.

Overall status: Fair to middlin’.

School district ‘devastated’ as COVID claims life of beloved teacher

11/10/2020

(By James Grob, Charles City Press, 11-10-20)

Darla Arends had about 500 kids and two cats.

A Charles City High School special education teacher for 25 years, Arends died on Friday from COVID-19 complications at the age of 58 at MercyOne in Mason City. She was first diagnosed with the virus in September, and it was the one ailment in her life that she couldn’t overcome.

“She always joked with me that she was born with a disability, but she never thought of herself as handicapped,” said CCHS Associate Principal Larry Wolfe.
“Anything her kids were going through, she’d already gone through. She overcame so many struggles in her life, and she never let her disability be a crutch.”

The Charles City School District Board of Directors held a moment of silence in memory of Arends at Monday’s meeting. Charles City Superintendent Mike Fisher called her a “beloved friend and family member.”

“Our hearts are breaking, our family is grieving, and her family is grieving,” Fisher said. “It’s an exceptionally difficult time for our school and our community.”

Fisher said that all of Arends’ students had been called personally.

Arends was one of six children in her family, and her younger brother, Carl Arends, said that Darla had survived two open heart surgeries and had one kidney, which COVID-19 shut down. He said that once she was placed on a ventilator, she was never awake for more than a couple of hours at a time.

“We thought that she was getting better, and then all of the sudden, it just got worse,” Carl said. “It really wasn’t something we were expecting.”

Carl said that his sister had a physical disability that hampered her mobility, but she refused to call herself handicapped.

“It broke her heart when she had to get a handicapped sticker on her car,” he said. “She did not consider herself disabled. She always said that if she could walk and move, she wasn’t disabled.”

Carl said that Arends insisted on becoming a teacher, and that she wanted to teach children with disabilities.

“She always said that you can’t teach these kids on a computer, you have to be there physically,” Carl said. “She loved what she did and always tried to do what anyone told her she couldn’t do.”

CCHS Principal Bryan Jurrens said that Arends’ passing was a devastating loss for Charles City.

“She was a very seasoned teacher, very caring and very nurturing,” Jurrens said. “She knew what she was put on this world to do, and that was to teach, and that was her family.”

Before coming to Charles City, Arends taught in Forest City, and Carl said that while there, she actually adopted one of her students who needed care and became a co-guardian to him, and she cared for him the entire time he was in a mental health institution.

Wolfe estimated that Arends had taught more than 500 individual special education students over the years in Charles City.

“If you break it down, that means she’s impacted over 500 families,” Wolfe said. “She had those students for multiple years, and she treated every student who walked into her classroom as if they were her sons or daughters.”

Born in 1962 in Iowa City, Arends grew up in Zearing where she attended school. She graduated with the NESCO class of 1983. She went to the University of Iowa, where she earned her bachelor’s degree and master’s degree.

Along with the 500-plus students she taught, Arends also left behind two cats she considered her babies.

“Any cats that were around our house when we were growing up were her cats,” her brother said. “They were no one else’s, they were hers.”

Carl said that a Charles City teacher and a staff member have been checking in on her cats and taking care of their needs since Arends was first hospitalized. He and his wife tended to the cats on weekends.

“The teachers at Charles City High School are just amazing,” Carl said. “She was so fortunate to work with such kind people.”

Jurrens said it might be the other way around — Charles City was fortunate to work with Arends.

“We’re definitely going to miss Darla,” he said. “She wasn’t afraid to ask questions and wasn’t afraid to do what was right, and those are the kind of people you like having around.”

Wolfe agreed, and said that Arends set a great example for every teacher in the district.

“Darla was more than a quality teacher and a quality mentor, she was the epitome of what is right for kids,” he said. “She was never defined by a contract or sundial — she was here as early as she needed to be, she stayed as late as she needed to stay, and worked as long as she needed to work.”

Wolfe read an email he had received from a CCHS graduate and one of Arends’ former students.

“She was my favorite teacher in school,” the email said. “She chewed my butt every time I deserved it, and that was many times. It hurts my heart to know she passed away.”

Wolfe called Arends “a great friend,” and said she was instrumental in creating a team teaching approach at the high school.

“She spoke from the heart, and she spoke honestly, and she expected everyone around her — and that includes both kids and staff — to work just as hard as she did,” Wolfe said.

The school district is providing additional support for teachers and staff this week, and said that student counseling support services will be available.

According to the Iowa COVID-19 Tracker website, there have been eight COVID-19-related deaths of school district employees in the state of Iowa since the start of the school year, in Iowa City Regina, West Des Moines, Dowling Catholic, Sioux City, Southeast Polk, Chariton, Knoxville/Pella and now Charles City.

Anyone who would like their child to visit with a counselor is asked to call the school office at 641-257-6510 or email cchs@charlescityschools.org. Due to current limitations on face-to-face contact, the school will also offer tele-health support via teleconferencing.

The school said that it is anticipating students and staff to react in a variety of different ways, and is expecting a variety of emotions and behaviors in reaction to the loss.

Visitation for Arends will be today, Tuesday, Nov. 10, from 5-7 p.m. at the Fredregill Family Funeral Home in Zearing, Iowa. Funeral services are Wednesday, Nov. 11, at 2:30 p.m. at the Zearing Christian Church.

“Every time we reflect on a moment with her, and every time we shed a tear for, our broken hearts are going to heal a little,” Wolfe said. “That healing is going to take a long time, because of the impact she had on our district.”

Really? You’re still not wearing a mask?

11/10/2020

Charles City Press, 11-10-20

Would you be angry at me if I told you to never drive drunk?

Would you be angry at me if I told you that you need to pass a gun safety class before you go hunting with me?

If I advised you to wear a condom, to prevent pregnancy and AIDS, would you be mad?

Would it upset you if I asked you to wash the fecal matter off your hands before you prepare dinner?

Probably not, because you’re not an idiot, right? You know that there are intelligent precautions to take in this world, which keep us from hurting ourselves and others.

So put on a mask when you’re out in public.

Yes, this is another scolding. I’m about to be the 50 millionth person to give you an annoying lecture about putting on a mask.

You don’t have to read it, I don’t care. But I have to say it.

I have to say it because you’re an idiot. And that’s your problem. But you’re a dangerous idiot, and that’s my problem.

The spread of the virus in Iowa is out of control. The lines in our area of the world right now to get one of the drive-by COVID-19 tests are sometimes hours long. I know this, because I’ve waited in them twice — once for me to get tested and once for my wife.

My test was negative. I’m not sick, at least not right now. My wife wasn’t as fortunate, her test was positive. I think she’s going to be OK. She has many symptoms but nothing serious. We have quarantined and now live on different levels of our own house. When we have to be in the same room together, we both wear masks. No kissy-face for us, for at least another week.

My immune system is compromised, due to years of fighting cancer. It’s likely that my body wouldn’t handle the coronavirus well. There are hundreds of people right here in this community just like me. You know at least one of them, I guarantee you.

Maybe you don’t care if you kill us. Maybe you’d actually like to kill us. Maybe that’s why you don’t wear a mask.

That’s what I see, anyway, when I’m out and about. I see people who’d like me to be dead. If I’m looking at you funny, it’s only because I think you’re an awful person who wants to kill me.

The day before I was quarantined, I stopped by a local convenience store to pick up some provisions. The store was crowded, and I was the only customer in there wearing a mask. The employees were wearing masks. There was a sign on the door encouraging customers to wear masks, but apparently, I was the only customer that day who knows how to read.

That evening, I ordered food from a local eatery, delicious food that I love. I went to pick it up, and when I walked inside, the place was crowded, no one was wearing a mask, no one was keeping a social distance — not even the employees. Even the manager, who happily took my money and handed me my food, had no mask on.

I love supporting my local businesses, I love that they offer quality products and that I keep money in my community, and help to continue to provide jobs and services for my neighbors. But come on, man. You’ve got to give me some respect in return. At least pretend you care about your customers — all of your customers.

In my eyes, I was surrounded by people who’d like to kill me, or, perhaps just didn’t care if I died. At best, I was surrounded by idiots. Dangerous idiots. So don’t be surprised if that ticks me off a little bit. It’s a defense mechanism, a survival instinct.

Because you all didn’t mask up, one-quarter of the local football season was cancelled. Playing high school football, many moons ago, was just about the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. These kids this year had part of that taken away from them, because you didn’t wear a mask.

Few things are more fun and valuable than performing in a play. The drama kids at Charles City High School had theirs postponed, and perhaps it will ultimately be cancelled, because you didn’t wear a mask.

The school district is working desperately to educate your children, and tediously worked out a plan to bring kids back to full-time, in-person learning, the way it’s supposed to be. The kids need that. They deserve that. But, because you didn’t wear a mask, the district had to scrap that plan for a while.

And over the weekend, we learned that a beloved local teacher died. Maybe if you would have worn a mask, she wouldn’t have gotten the virus. Maybe if you start wearing one, you’ll help prevent someone like her from getting sick.

Do I sound too self-righteous and too holier-than-thou to you? Too bad. That’s your problem, not mine.

If you won’t mask up, you’re a dangerous idiot, and that’s our problem.

A little piece of cloth can solve it.

Notes From Quarantine, DAY 3, Sunday, Nov. 8

11/8/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAY 3
Sunday, Nov. 8

We continue to survive in our multi-level bunker. I remain without symptoms, and so, I believe that my negative test holds true. The masked woman who is living upstairs continues to show only mild symptoms, although today she lost her sense of smell. I am sympathetic to her affliction, although the one positive to this is I no longer need to shower as frequently, and often the passing of gas can go on unnoticed. Did some work from home today, and noticed this afternoon that a local civic organization had placed a flag in my yard, as I had requested. Shed a tear of pride as I watched it unfurl and flap in the breeze during sunset, with thoughts of veterans I know who served. Some lived, some died, all did their duty. A temporary quarantine to help protect my community? That ain’t shit, compared to what some of them went through. And I’m out.

Today’s observations:
When I get a jar of full, unsliced dill pickles and take one and slice it up with a knife to put the slices on a hamburger, I feel like I’m some kind of goddamn magnificent frontiersman, living off the land. You want some ketchup there, Jim Bridger?

Many people have told me to “f*ck my feelings” (please excuse the vulgarity) over the last four years, and I’m now noticing that a lot of them sure do get their little tiny feelings hurt rather easily.

There aren’t any bats in my house. I’m pretty sure of it.

Many people who demand that we support our troops don’t really support our troops when one of them is someone you know, but only when it’s their abstract idea of “our troops.”

I believe the Minnesota Vikings NFL football franchise was specifically designed to perpetually confuse the hell out of me.

Many people who think it’s funny when their guy cheats and gets away with it sure are quick to accuse others of cheating without any evidence to back it up. And they really don’t think it’s funny anymore, but I do.

I sometimes like to put Thousand Island Dressing on sandwiches, and not just Ruebens. And when I do, I feel kinky.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Van Halen, Cyndi Lauper, Iron Maiden, Elvis, Bruce Springsteen and George Harrison (Here Comes The Sun.)

Overall status: Balls. Just balls.

Notes From Quarantine, DAY 2, Saturday, Nov. 7

11/7/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAY 2
Saturday, Nov. 7

News from the outside world — which has become increasingly foreign to me in my time in this remote cavern — carries the day. Word came down this morning that the huddled masses of this fine nation had decided to cancel the failed, ridiculous reality-television show after four horrible seasons, and actually installed a real human being to preside over domestic governance and foreign affairs. I was very pleased to hear this, as was the masked woman who lives upstairs. She has visited me occasionally, and sent me off twice today to acquire necessary provisions. She requested a chicken-like fried meat substance on a bun, and I carefully fetched it, among many other items of varying nutritional value, which were delivered to my method of transport. She remains high-spirited, and is fighting the COVID virus off admirably, with the dignity and grace seen only among ancient warriors of lore. I learned today that I am negative and not likely carrying the virus, although I am still required to quarantine. This is excellent news, and I shall redouble my efforts to resist the contagion. Lastly, it was heartening to witness black-and-gold-clad winged knights successfully defend our region from a group of warlike Spartans earlier today. The Hawks were, indeed, in the House, time and time again.

Today’s observations:

I’m pretty sure that my yard signs didn’t do any good, but I still liked having them. I was happy to take them down today.

The bottle that holds 500 Tylenol capsules does not fit in the medicine cabinet.

There are people who just shut up when they lose, there are others who lose with grace, dignity and respect, and there are people who are total, insufferable dicks about it. Try not to be the last one. No one likes you.

If you had a dream last night that I was killing a bat, it was not real. I did not kill a bat last night.

Iowa’s November weather has actually been the nicest weather we’ve had all year. Don’t doubt, that will change.

I have many friends, at least four, who make their own beer. I do not make my own beer, but I would like to drink some. It definitely wouldn’t kill you to leave some on my stoop and knock on the door.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Faith No More, “Let the Music Play” by Shannon, Tom Petty, Z-Z-Top, Prince and Woody Guthrie.

Today’s quote: “This machine kills fascists” — A sign, on Woody Guthrie’s guitar.

Overall status: Cooler than balls.

Notes From Quarantine, DAY 1, Friday, Nov. 6, 2020

11/6/2020

Notes From Quarantine
DAY 1, Friday, Nov. 6, 2020
No symptoms today. Still awaiting test results. The woman upstairs is confirmed COVID-positive, but she’s still mostly nice. She came down briefly, shared some information, made herself lunch, and opened the windows. She tells me she feels the same as yesterday, basic symptoms of the common cold, and very tired. I believe I know her, but I’m afraid to ask her to remove her mask to confirm her identity. She went back upstairs. Sometimes I hear her talking to people up there, I assume telecommunications. She took possession of my MacBook charger. I await her demands for its safe return.

Today’s observations:
Neighbor’s motorcycle is ridiculously loud, and not the good, Harley kind of loud.

People who live in some other states take a long, long time to count things. I feel like I’m smarter than they are, but they’re trying their best.

I haven’t cleaned my guns in a while.

The lawn mower needs to get put away for the winter.

I am extremely frustrated that there are not more episodes of “The Mandalorian” available.

There are many free online websites specifically designed to help individuals who are missing human physical contact and interaction to, shall we say, “come to grips” with what they’re missing. Many websites. Some of them, maybe too helpful. But it’s a nice public service.

There are many strangely specific varieties of soap, but it’s mostly just the same soap.

Today’s quarantine playlist: Sheryl Crow, Charlie Daniels, Ray Charles, and Mother Father Sister Brother (TSOP).

Overall status: Cool as balls.