By Wendy Rollin It isn’t Laurel Canyon. It’s Oak Park, Michigan. 1965. In a living room, on a wall mural, soft waters flow from a lavender fountain. Cigarette smoke curls in the air, rising from assorted ash trays. On a purple couch, eight long-haired singers make music with fervent voices, three acoustic guitars, a silver harmonica, and a real-good, real-wood tambourine. Joining them in song, strewn about the room, are assorted Folkies or Friends of Folkies. College students home on break. They either recline on plush carpet, or sit on dining room chairs, relocated for the occasion. At the baby grand piano, plays the Piano Lady, flanked by a soaring soprano and a lowdown alto. And the songs they are a-rising. Democratically. Everyone takes a turn taking the lead: One woman, she knows every verse to “Tambourine Man,” in the right order. That guy, he can do “That’s What You Get For Lovin’ Me,” with all the right folkie bravado. And that mellow-fellow with the auburn beard, he sweeps us away with a pure-beauty interlude on his Dobro guitar. We “Dona Dona” and toast the “Ramblin’ Boy.” We cover “Four Strong Winds” in three reverent parts. The harmonies are sweet. The bond of shared music, even sweeter. It’s true the last reveler has to be unceremoniously escorted out the door at 4 a.m., by the Piano Lady’s weary father, with no song of fond farewell. Life’s good singing with friends It’s Farmington Hills, Michigan. 1985. We start in the family room. Children watch from their pictures on the wall. Many of us have families. And most of us have Responsibilities. We are teachers, doctors, social workers, lawyers and such. There are working music and media professionals too. Some well-known performers on the local scene. And, a couple of still-wandering troubadours. It’s a reunion of sorts. Looking around, the original cast of characters can’t help but note some happy additions . . . and sad absences. But the conversation and champagne stay light. And soon, a piano fanfare and a proclamatory electric guitar chord call us to the living room. As we are situated, songs rise, but Holy Repertoire! We’re singing everything. Beatles, Broadway, Operetta. Jazz and Blues. Motown. Old Rock ’n Roll. People have printed out lyric sheets so everyone can sing along. And we do. Life’s good singing with friends It’s West Bloomfield. The tempo keeps speeding up. It’s 2013. A longtime music friend is hosting one of her wonderful music parties. Each year, she gathers performing pals of many musical persuasions. One might fear conflict. Broadway Babies, Folkies, Old Rock ’n Rollers, Classical Players, Parodists, Songwriters--taking turns on the same home stage. Not to mention a few musically mixed marriages: He Folkie/She Broadway. “Man of Constant Sorrow” vs. “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” Yet the only edgy notes are more amusing than sour. There’s peace among the genres. It’s another memorable music night. It also happens to be very close to the longtime music friend’s birthday. There is to be a girls-only luncheon. And the Piano Lady knows what she wants to create for the occasion. A song celebrating all the music and music friends, singing our way through the changing seasons of life. So, “Singing With Friends,” the song, comes to be. Life’s good singing with friends Presto! It’s 2018. It’s a production studio in Troy, Michigan. “Singing With Friends” becomes a video, featuring the truly extraordinary Elektra Petrucci, whose performance sings for itself. It’s 2020. The Pandemic. A sad year in a minor key. And, especially if we’re older, we’re wary of doing much gathering in person. But it may be time to start singing along. You may remember your own music, whatever the style or era. So, repeating a current refrain . . . how about Zoom? Friends singing together virtually? Or how about singing with your shelter mates? It could be moving! It could be fun! It could be transcendent! On a long-ago purple couch in Oak Park — or in a Zoom configuration of squares on a computer screen — Life’s good singing with friends Wendy Rollin is a songwriter and musician. When circumstances allow, she and her husband Jerry Piasecki divide their time between Farmington Hills, Michigan and Ridgefield, Connecticut. wpianolady@aol.com Contact Wendy https://tinyurl.com/yxcccdfl Wendy’s albums for families on Amazon https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjtwkZq5bgqPvk3zS7qoX8g Wendy’s YouTube Channel (children/grownups) https://youtu.be/gbRiKe47wQk “Soaring” (for grownups)

By Helene Bednarsh Let me start by saying this ain’t my first epidemic. It is my first pandemic, though. I work for the Boston Public Health Commission (BPCH), Infectious Disease Bureau – the good, the bad and the ugly. The good, I know a lot about. The bad, I know a lot about. The ugly, well. that cuts both ways. If I wear my BPHC mask when I venture out, it is either, “oh, you must know a lot about this virus, can you tell me everything under the sun,” OR “oh, you don’t have to worry about me social distancing from you, because I’m afraid you’re contagious.” HC So, I’ve been working from home trying to keep my HIV Dental Program going, even though dental offices are closed. The point is that I am working. So imagine going into your office on a weekend (fear of ageism and an attempt at social distancing) and coming home to a letter from the Massachusetts Department of Unemployment Assistance, and a curt one at that. Not even a Dear Helene, but instead: "HELENE BEDNARSH: Your claim for Pandemic Unemployment Assistance was filed May 19, 2020 and approved and here’s the summary of your benefits. " YIKES! Who fired me and who filed for me? We all read about scams but hey, scam me? I don’t give out information over the phone, I do all my donations online, my passwords are encrypted. I’m safe, RIGHT? Apparently not. Naturally, it was a holiday weekend--Memorial Day--Memorable Day, rather, and I had to wait until Tuesday at 8 am to start calling to say: “HEY, WAIT! Not me, I’m working.” The phone rings 30 times and disconnects. Repeat, repeat ad infinitum. Aha, I’ll find a number to start a text chat and say, “HEY GUYS, I am working.” I’m transferred to an agent. What seems like 36 hours later, the agent asks, “How can I help you? and I say, “I DID WHAT? That claim is a fraud.” The chat continues. I’ve broken through, I think to myself. Then they provide me with the email address and phone number of the SCAMSTER who filed! If one can bellow by chat, I do. “No, that’s not me! Stop the checks! Who has my identity?” I ask the agent why his office didn’t call that person. If a person can have chutzpah by chat, he does. He tells me they can’t make calls and tell ME to call the crook! Um. yeah, “Hello, you stole my identity and I want it back please.” Seriously? No way. And so begins my email and phone journey through the bureaucratic maze: The Fraud Verification Department. The Massachusetts Attorney General. Check my credit cards, check my home deed, enroll in a credit monitoring program. My state representative. The Department of Unemployment. The bottom line: five weeks later, I’m still waiting. The consolation prize is that it’s now officially under investigation. Pandemic pandemonium! I know, I know…I shouldn’t complain because I am working, regardless of the ineptitude of this clearly overwhelmed agency. At least my key still opens my office and my badge lets me into the building, even on a weekend. Helene Bednarsh is Director of the Ryan White Dental Program, Boston Public Health Commission. She is Vice President of HIVDENT and is the Dental Director for the New England AIDS Education and Training Center. She has published numerous articles. When she’s not advocating for something, she’s knitting.

By Andy Borowitz July 1, 2020 WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Donald J. Trump may not have read a Presidential Daily Brief on the Russian bounty scheme because he holds reading material upside down, experts suggested on Wednesday. After studying photographic evidence of Trump holding a book in that difficult-to-read position, Davis Logsdon, who studies literacy at the University of Minnesota, said that such a practice could have impeded the President’s ability to process information on his desk. “If Trump is holding all of his Presidential Daily Briefs upside down, what is intended to be important intelligence requiring his urgent attention might, to him, appear to be little more than meaningless marks on a piece of paper,” Logsdon said. Within minutes of the release of Logsdon’s comments, the White House scrambled to institute new procedures to insure that Trump’s Presidential Daily Briefs are placed right-side up on his Oval Office desk. Reportedly, Jared Kushner will be tasked with entering Trump’s office first thing every morning and rotating all of the papers on his desk until they are in the optimal position for reading. Some White House sources, however, expressed skepticism about the new protocol. “It relies on Jared knowing when reading material is upside down,” one source said. Andy Borowitz is a Times best-selling author and a comedian who has written for The New Yorker since 1998. He writes The Borowitz Report, a satirical column on the news.

FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile inThe New York Timeson August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

June 29, 2020 Jeffrey D. Sachs | Project Syndicate High inequality undermines social cohesion, erodes public trust, and deepens political polarization, all of which negatively affect governments’ ability and readiness to respond to crises. This explains why the United States, Brazil, and Mexico account for nearly half of the world's reported deaths since the start of the pandemic. NEW YORK – Three countries – the United States, Brazil, and Mexico – account for nearly half (46%) of the world’s reported COVID-19 deaths, yet they contain only 8.6% of the world’s population. Some 60% of Europe’s deaths are concentrated in just three countries – Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom – which account for 38% of Europe’s population. There were many fewer deaths and lower death rates in most of Northern and Central Europe. Several factors determine a country’s COVID-19 death rate: the quality of political leadership, the coherence of the government’s response, the availability of hospital beds, the extent of international travel, and the population’s age structure. Yet one deep structural characteristic seems to be shaping the role of these factors: countries’ income and wealth distribution. The US, Brazil, and Mexico have very high income and wealth inequality. The World Bank reports the respective Gini coefficients for recent years (2016-18) at 41.4 in the US, 53.5 in Brazil, and 45.9 in Mexico. (On a 100-point scale, a value of 100 signifies absolute inequality, with one person controlling all income or wealth, and zero means a completely equal distribution per person or household). The US has the highest Gini coefficient among the advanced economies, while Brazil and Mexico are among the world’s most unequal countries. In Europe, Italy, Spain, and the UK – with Gini scores of 35.6, 35.3, and 34.8, respectively – are more unequal than their northern and eastern counterparts, such as Finland (27.3), Norway (28.5), Denmark (28.5), Austria (30.3), Poland (30.5), and Hungary (30.5). The correlation of death rates per million and income inequality is far from perfect; other factors matter a lot. France’s inequality is on par with Germany’s, but its COVID-19 death rate is significantly higher. The death rate in relatively egalitarian Sweden is significantly higher than in its neighbors, because Sweden decided to keep its social distancing policies voluntary rather than mandatory. Relatively egalitarian Belgium was battered with very high reported death rates, owing partly to the authorities’ decision to report probable as well as confirmed COVID-19 deaths. High income inequality is a social scourge in many ways. As Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson convincingly reported in two important books, The Spirit Level and The Inner Level, higher inequality leads to worse overall health conditions, which significantly increases vulnerability to COVID-19 deaths. Moreover, higher inequality leads to lower social cohesion, less social trust, and more political polarization, all of which negatively affect governments’ ability and readiness to adopt strong control measures. Higher inequality means a larger proportion of low-income workers – from cleaners, cashiers, guards, and delivery persons to sanitation, construction, and factory workers – must continue their daily lives, even at the risk of infection. More inequality also means more people living in crowded living conditions and therefore unable to shelter safely. Populist leaders exacerbate the enormous costs of inequality. US President Donald Trump, Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro, and British Prime Minister Boris Johnson were elected by unequal and socially divided societies with the support of many disgruntled working-class voters (typically white, less-educated men who resent their declining social and economic status). But the politics of resentment is almost the opposite of the politics of epidemic control. The politics of resentment shuns experts, derides scientific evidence, and resents elites who work online telling workers who can’t to stay home. The US is so unequal, politically divided, and badly governed under Trump that it has actually given up on any coherent national strategy to control the outbreak. All responsibilities have been shifted to state and local governments, which have been left to fend for themselves. Heavily armed right-wing protesters have, on occasion, mobbed state capitals to oppose restrictions on business activity and personal mobility. Even face masks have become politicized: Trump refuses to wear one, and he recently said that some people do so only to express their disapproval of him. The result is that his followers gleefully reject wearing them, and the virus, which started in the “blue” (Democratic) coastal states, is now hitting Trump’s base in “red” (Republican) states hard. Brazil and Mexico are mimicking US politics. Bolsonaro and Mexico’s President Andrés Manuel López Obrador are quintessential populists in the Trump mold, mocking the virus, disdaining expert advice, making light of the risks, and flamboyantly rejecting personal protection. They are also guiding their countries into a Trumpian disaster. With the exception of Canada and all too few other places, the countries of North and South America are being ravaged by the virus, because almost the entire Western hemisphere shares a legacy of mass inequality and pervasive racial discrimination. Even well-governed Chile fell prey to violence and instability last year, owing to high and chronic inequality. This year, Chile (along with Brazil, Ecuador, and Peru) has suffered one the world’s highest COVID-19 death rates. Inequality is certainly not a death sentence. China is rather unequal (with a Gini score of 38.5), but its national and provincial governments adopted rigorous control measures after the initial Wuhan outbreak, essentially suppressing the virus. The recent outbreak in Beijing, after weeks of zero confirmed new cases, resulted in renewed lockdowns and massive testing. In most other countries, however, we are witnessing once again the enormous costs of mass inequality: inept governance, social distrust, and a huge population of vulnerable people unable to protect themselves from encroaching harms. Alarmingly, the epidemic itself is widening inequalities even further. The rich now work and thrive online (Amazon founder Jeff Bezos’s wealth has risen by $49 billion since the start of the year, thanks to the decisive shift to e-commerce), while the poor are losing their jobs and often their health and lives. And the costs of inequality are sure to rise further, as revenue-starved governments slash budgets and public services vital for the poor. But a reckoning is coming. In the absence of coherent, capable, and trustworthy governments that can implement an equitable and sustainable pandemic response and strategy for economic recovery, the world will succumb to further waves of instability generated by a growing array of global crises.

By her own description, Sienna Beck is “7.5 years old.” But when it comes to COVID-19, some would say that she knows more than the President of the United States. Sienna, who lives in Manhattan with her parents, Lisa Sachs and Matt Beck, as well as her younger sisters, Willa (age 5.5) and Olive (age 3.5), is well-schooled in all things pandemic. Besides hearing her parents discuss the current crisis, Sienna’s school, which went remote along with all New York City public schools, has worked hard to keep its students in the know. Her classmates even prepared Pandemic Time Capsules, memorializing the ways in which they studied and played this spring. Besides being on her way to a book contract, Sienna loves reading and art projects. She has her say in this essay:

By Guillermo Porras Baking is an adventure! It is exciting to see different ingredients transformed into something both beautiful and delicious. The last few weeks have been perfect for baking, with lots of free time and weather that invited me to be creative. In the beginning of my baking apprenticeship, I was inspired by my grandmother in Costa Rica. She was a great cook: no recipes, no cookbooks. Everything she cooked was from her heart. Her hands were the measurements she used to make the most delicious food around, making her famous in her town. Every day, she would go to the market to pick up the fruits and vegetables and meat that she would use to make that day’s meals. Using natural ingredients, she cooked by the season, with different kinds of food according to the calendar. The family used to get together at my grandmother’s house in Alajuela on holidays like Easter and Mother’s Day. She was the pillar of the family, and it was a perfect way to bring us together. She was a hard worker, spoiling us with her love. On celebrations like Christmas, she made the most delicious tamales I have ever eaten. One of my sisters was smart enough to write down my grandmother’s instructions on how to make tamales. It’s a long process that requires lots of dedication. But my grandmother never baked. In her time, baking was considered an art for ladies from high society. One Christmas, my uncle gave my grandmother a cookbook. She gave it to me, saying “I want you have this book because I know it will help you develop your talent for baking.” She was a poor woman, who had raised three kids by herself, and she had nothing valuable, so she wanted to give me the book as an inheritance, a remembrance of her. After that, at every family event, I was in charge of the desserts. During the same years, when my mother tried to make a cake for coffee in the afternoon, I was always next to her, interested and watching. She was trying to learn how to bake herself: sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. My mother was like an artist who didn’t want to follow the rules, but I was more precise. My mother saw my interest in learning how to bake, and she wanted me to get good instruction. So she introduced me to a TV cooking show with Tía Florita, an elegant Costa Rican chef with great style. We loved her personality and recipes, and with time and practice, I became more adventurous in baking, trying out different recipes. Ever since, I have enjoyed baking. I don’t do complicated, sophisticated recipes, just basic baking, but I have gotten good at that. This month, I have been trying different dessert recipes. My favorite is a very simple pound cake, which is easy to bake. The recipe below is from Tia Florita’s show, which I still watch; she is still very stylish, but not pretentious. I enjoy sharing it with my husband Todd and our close neighbors, all of whom have a sweet tooth. The cake is delicious, and if you follow the recipe exactly, the results will be a perfect summer dessert to serve to family and friends. Buen Provecho! Pound Cake Have all ingredients at room temperature 70°F Preheat the oven to 350°F Oven rack at third level. Grease and flour one 12-cup loaf pan. In a large bowl, beat until creamy 2 sticks of unsalted butter. Gradually add 2 cups of sugar, sometimes scraping the sides of the bowl, and beat on high speed until the mixture get lightened in texture and color. Then, one at the time, add the egg yolks and beat until the mixture get fluffy and light. Still on high speed, add the 1 cup of sour cream until everything is mixed. Reduce the speed to low and gradually dribble 1 tablespoon at a time the dry ingredients and use a rubber spatula to scrape the sides of the bowl as necessary. Add to the batter 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest. In a separate bowl beat the 6 egg whites on high speed until the peaks are glossy and stiff and add into the batter, in 4 parts, stirring by hand using a rubber spatula. Be sure it is well mixed . Scrape the batter into the pan and spread evenly. Bake for 40 minutes at 350° F and 15 minutes more at 325°F until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool in the pan on a rack for 10-15 minutes. Slide a thin knife around the cake to detach from the pan. Invert the cake and let cool right side up on the rack until room temperature. Guillermo Porras was a New Year’s baby, inaugurating the great decade of the 60’s. He was born in San José, the capital of Costa Rica and went to school at the University of Costa Rica, where he graduated as an architect . Guillermo worked as an architect with the top architects in Costa Rica; additionally, he taught architectural drawing in a technological high school for students training to be architects. In 2000, Guillermo moved to New York City looking for opportunities in architecture. In 2002, he got what he describes at “the big project of my life, meeting his future husband, Todd MacDonald, who is also an architect. Says Guillermo, ‘’We got married in 2012, thanks to Edie Windsor , Hillary Clinton and President Obama, who always supported civil rights for the LGBTQ community. We love to enjoy desserts and pastries as part of a good meal . And anytime we have the opportunity to travel overseas, we enjoy tasting local food and of course sweets.”

FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile inThe New York Timeson August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

One film journalist’s stream-of-consciousness cinematic journey through the pandemic and quarantine, Part 8 By Laurence Lerman Admittedly, the last month of life in our city and beyond—as presented to us in print, online and over the airwaves—has played as a non-fiction movie that warrants—that demands—more of our attention than any kind of fictional narrative the world’s moviemakers could spin. Last week, after easing out of a near round-the-clock absorption with the news, I dipped my toe into the depths of the new HBO Max service, which for me meant some 2,000-plus streamable movies—many culled from the Turner Classic Movies and Criterion Collection libraries. I’ve screened some half-dozen movies since I began, three of them on HBO Max and the balance from other easily accessed sources. Two of the outliers star the musician/actor Kris Kristofferson. He’s not a talent I’ve ever felt a particular affinity for, so I’m at a loss as to how his films came to represent a third of those I watched over the course of the week. With such a sprawling collection on HBO Max to choose from, I began with a classic: 1955’s Rebel Without a Cause. I figured it was an easy pitch to take a swing at—a classic right-up-the-middle—as I hadn’t seen it in close to 40 years. Much darker and more troubling than I remembered it—those are some screwed-up kids!—Rebel Without a Cause is still best known for the towering performances of its leading trio of Natalie Wood, Sal Mineo and, of course, James Dean as “Jimbo” Stark. It joins 1956’s Giant as one of a pair of Dean films that were released after his death following 1955’s East of Eden, which is still my favorite of his three. In Rebel, director Nicolas Ray notably utilizes the burgeoning widescreen CinemaScope technology of the era to maximum effect, elevating the scenes at the film’s memorable scenes at Griffith Observatory and the “Chickie Run” cliffs to melodramatic extremes. If ever I was going to go from the ridiculous to the sublime (or vice-versa) in choosing a film, it might as well be when I have a choice of so many. That said, having seen the first three entries in the Jaws franchise, kicked off with Spielberg’s 1977 original, I decided to finish up what I started with 1987’s Jaws: The Revenge, which was on Max (along with its predecessors) and only a click away. Awful. Lorraine Gary returns from the first two Jaws films (the only actor to do so) as Ellen Brody, wife of Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider in the first entry), who has apparently died, the stress of his never-ending Shark Week driving him to an early grave. She and her grown son Michael (Lance Guest) set out to Nassau to get away from it all, only to discover that their local man-eating great white shark has followed her. A non-Brody shark attack or two follow a half-hour later, with the production’s animatronic shark going through the same mechanized gestures seen in the previous installments. The whole thing plays like an advert for the Jaws ride at one of the Universal theme parks… Again I say: awful. But there is a brief appearance by Melvin van Peebles, writer/director/star of 1971’s Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song! If I’m gonna head to the beach, I figured let it be with Kris Kristofferson and Sarah Miles and their legendary sex scenes in 1976’s The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, which I recently bumped into on a streaming service. It was a “Holy Grail” sequence of sorts that I’d initially seen some steamy pics of in a tattered Playboy Magazine when I was a young teen. (The images were not lifted from the movie, but rather a Playboy-sponsored publicity shoot. Years later, Kristofferson offered that his wife at the time, singer Rita Coolidge, was none-too-happy about the very, very frank photos.) As for the movie, it’s a strange one based on a novella by Japan’s Yukio Mishima, (who was pretty strange himself) concerning a young widow (Miles) who gets sexually involved with a merchant seaman (Kristofferson). Writer and first-time director Lewis John Carlino (whose wide-ranging filmography includes the screenplays for the 1966 John Frankeneheimer thriller Seconds, the 1972 Charles Bronson assassination flick The Mechanic and, later, the acclaimed 1979 Robert Duvall drama The Great Santini, which he also directed) moves the action from Yokohama to the English coastal town of Dartmouth, which creates an evocative and atmospheric backdrop to what eventually and disturbingly goes down. I mentioned the Sailor to a friend, remarking on Kristofferson’s serviceable performance, and he pointed out that Kristofferson was exceptional in Cisco Pike, a 1971 drama I’d never heard of, written and directed by B.L. Norton and ONE WORD costarring a French Connection-era Gene Hackman. I quickly tracked it down and slotted it for the on-deck spot. And, thus, for a second time, Kris Kristofferson was the impetus for my decoupling from HBO Max. But I vowed to return… Falling squarely between the hippie-dippie rebel cinema of the late Sixties (1968’s Psych-Out and 1969’s Easy Rider and so on) and the disenfranchised and alienated films of the Seventies (1970’s Five Easy Pieces and 1973’s Scarecrow are good examples), Cisco Pike stars Kristofferson as an aging rocker who’s strong-armed by a psycho L.A. cop (Hackman) into selling a zillion kilos of weed (Acapulco Gold, baby) that have fallen into his hands. Cisco hits up his friends and their friends, all while risking the love of his yoga-loving girlfriend (the always-welcome Karen Black). By the final act, Kristofferson has grown more desperate, Hackman has gotten angrier, and chases and gunplay are the only way out. Lots of drugs, lots of cruising, lots of familiar Seventies supporting players (including Roscoe Lee Browne, Allan Arbus and Antonio Fargas) and lots of music (including Kristofferson’s “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33”) make for an adequate Seventies not-quite drama-thriller. But my friend was right: Kristofferson was good. Before diving back into Max, I took a detour, a quick one, to watch Vanity Street, a nifty little 1932 crime drama from Nick Grinde, one of a number of Depression Era “B” picture directors who banged out one after the other back in the day. (Between 1930 and ’40, he directed some 32 features!) In a tight 65 minutes, Vanity Street tells the tawdry tale a gruff cop (Charles Bickford), a down-on-her-luck local gal (Helen Chandler), a stunning showgirl (Mayo Methot), her boozing boy toy (Charles Meeker) and a murder that needs solving. NO great surprises here, but as it’s a pre-Code noir-forerunner, there’s a heathy dollop of cheeky dialogue, cohabitation and sex between people who aren’t married (oh my!) and the saucy Ms. Methot—first wife of Humphrey Bogart— sans brassiere and falling out of her wayward blouse. And it looks pretty good, too, courtesy of legendary cinematographer Joseph August. With 159 films to his credit, I’m thinking he was one DP who didn’t make it home that often. HBO Max beckoned me to return with a title from their Criterion line-up: Ingmar Bergman’s 1978 Autumn Sonata, the filmmaker’s final work made for theatrical exhibition (they were all TV productions afterwards) and the only collaboration between Sweden’s legendary Bergmans, Ingmar and Ingrid. (As a kid, I never thought there was a difference though, admittedly, Ingmar was rarely brought up in our home.) Emerging during a dark period in Bergman’s life, when he was living abroad and battling the Swedish tax authorities, Autumn Sonata meditates on themes of family neuroses and generational reconciliation and, as it’s Bergman, death, and how it becomes more and more of a palpable reality as when gets older. It’s certainly on the minds of Ingrid, as a self-absorbed classical pianist approaching the end of her career, and costar Liv Ullman as her somber daughter who chooses the occasion of a rare visit from mom to let loose her a lifetime of pent-up anger and recrimination. The two actresses bring their talent and intensity to Ingmar’s script, particularly Ingrid, who’d never had a chance to flex her skills like she does here—not in her Oscar-winning Hollywood performances in Gaslight (1944), Anastasia (1955) or Murder on the Orient Express (1974), nor in her neorealist collaborations with Roberto Rossellini in the Fifties. Two Bergmans and a strong a dash of Ullman. Definitely a potent mix to end on. Laurence Lerman is a film journalist, former editor of Video Business--Variety's DVD trade publication--and husband to The Insider's own Gwen Cooper. Over the course of his career he has conducted one-on-one interviews with just about every major director working today, including Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Clint Eastwood, Kathryn Bigelow, Ridley Scott, Walter Hill, Spike Lee, and Werner Herzog, among numerous others. Once James Cameron specifically requested an interview with Laurence by name, which his wife still likes to brag about. Most recently, he is the co-founder and editor-in-chief of the online review site DiscDish.com.

By Alan Resnick On June 9, I walked toward the entrance of my office building. I hadn't been there for three months, since COVID-19 had been declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization. The front door was plastered with multiple pieces of paper in various neon colors, as if the facility had been or was soon to be condemned. These were assorted warnings and restrictions for people before they entered: EVERYONE MUST WEAR A MASK VERBAL HEALTH SCREENINGS WILL BE CONDUCTED AND TEMPERATURES WILL BE TAKEN ALL SOCIAL DISTANCING SIGNS AND PLACARDS MUST BE OBEYED I was there to meet my supervisor, to discuss the possibility of returning to my job conducting vocational assessments. While I had a number of reservations about going back to work, boredom had gotten the best of me. I slipped on my mask and went upstairs to check in. The lobby was dramatically different than the one I walked out of in March. There were no longer sofas and oversized chairs; instead, there were four folding chairs situated on “X” marks on the floor. The receptionist was seated behind a wall of Plexiglas shields and wore a clear protective shield over his face. He looked like he was ready to replace the muffler on my car. The cautious receptionist proceeded to take out a clipboard and asked me a number of questions about my health. Had I been in contact with anyone known to have COVID-19 over the last 14 days? Had I been tested for COVID-19 over the last 14 days? Had I experienced difficulty breathing, fever, or loss of smell over the last 14 days? Had I experienced diarrhea over the last 14 days? (I thought he was simply curious, but I’ve since learned that this can be a symptom.) He then held a device up to my forehead which registered my temperature. It was normal, and I was buzzed in. The corridor leading to my supervisor’s office at the back of the building was dimly lit, as if I had come in after hours or on a weekend. The drinking fountain had what looked like yellow crime scene tape on it with a sign indicating that it was not to be used. Everything about the corridor was cold and sterile, which I suppose was exactly the point. I knocked on my supervisor’s door. He looked up and put on his mask (masks are not required if you are working alone in your own office). I sat down and shared my fears about coming back, the most significant being that my office was too small to permit social distancing, that I had to share my computer with clients, and that certain test materials had to be passed back and forth between the client and myself. My supervisor suggested that we take a walk to a room that previously had been used to house a senior citizens program. Given the pandemic, the program had been suspended and will continue to be for the indefinite future. In contrast to my office, which is about 100 square feet, this room was cavernous, closer to 900 square feet. My supervisor asked if I thought this room could be used for vocational assessments. It clearly had room for social distancing and for two computer stations. There were six rectangular tables that, when put together, allowed for ample room for background interviews And while the table width was not optimal, Plexiglas shields were set up for protection. I told my supervisor that I was comfortable working out of this room. Even with all these changes, however, the fact remained that, given our current test battery, it was impossible to completely eliminate the need for materials to be handed back and forth. However, I had done my research: iPads could be used to administer certain tests, rather than pencil and paper. My supervisor agreed to purchase the necessary equipment, and I’ve been practicing a couple of times a week. I’m now trying to schedule assessments for next week, and we’ll see how it goes. In many ways, I think I’ve traded one set of issues and concerns for another. I had been worried about not being able to read a client’s facial expressions if they were wearing a mask during background interviews. But given that I can sit 12 feet away from my client, the mask is not necessary. Now, I’m hoping that I can just see and hear them from that distance. And I’m still not wild about having a Plexiglas shield between the client and myself for test administration, although I’ve come to the realization that it’s a necessary evil. I just know that I’m going to feel like a clerk at a convenience store when asking test questions: “Who wrote Alice in Wonderland? And, by the way, would you like a couple of quick pick lottery tickets?” Administering tests on iPads is both different and frustrating, as all the shortcuts I’ve developed over the years can’t be used. I used to be able to administer these tests in my sleep, but now it feels like I’m a beginner. But it’s nice to have a challenge. So, I’m approaching next week with an open mind. I’m also curious as to how clients will react to this new and Spartan environment. I’ll let you know how it goes. Alan Resnick is an industrial psychologist with over 40 years of professional experience. He and his wife are sheltering at home in Farmington Hills, Michigan. He is passing the time by cooking, exercising, catching up on friends’ recommendations of must-see TV and writing.