A sign on a window for a dance class studio that says We Dance Outside with a picture of an awning set up in the parking lot.

When Covid-19 hit the area, a lot of arts lessons halted or went online. But it’s a bit tricky to do things like a dance class over Zoom. Back in June when I went hiking at the botanical gardens, I was there on the day that a local kids’ dance studio had set up a stage for their year-end recital. Outside. With minimal audience. And all the dancers at least six feet apart.

This one’s set up a semi-permanent tent in their parking lot (which you can see in the picture on the sign) so they can conduct lessons outdoors, where ventilation helps cut down on coronavirus transmission, with shade — because virus or not, it’s freaking California in summer. (Not that you can tell from the pall of smoke in this shot, because wildfire season is year-round now.)

It’s been really interesting to see how places have adapted (when they can, anyway) from squeezing as many people into an indoor space as possible, to trying to spread out safely and outdoors. Like the gym I’ve seen that set up their exercise equipment in the parking lot. Or all the restaurants that have fenced off parts of their lots to make temporary patios.

Though I still haven’t done even outdoor patio dining since this all started. You can dance with a mask on. You can shop with one. You can hang out and talk with one. But you can’t eat with one. Takeout is fine for now.

ead and shoulders of a cardboard cutout of Spark (Pokemon Go) with a pennant covering his mouth and nose like a bandana.

I walked by the kid’s room during this morning’s online school session and found that he’d set up the Spark standup (the Team Instinct leader) that he and Katie made for Pokémon Go Fest to block the doorway as if standing guard.

Fortunately, Spark is considerate enough to wear a face mask per pandemic recommendations.

Be like Spark. Not like Jessie and James. ‘Cause you know they’re only going to wear masks for disguise purposes.

Bizarre story (how could it not be?) in the LA Times on Devo co-founder Mark Mothersbaugh’s experience with Covid-19 and the delusions he experienced at the height of the illness during two weeks in the ICU.

Among other things, he became convinced he’d written an entire new Devo album and hallucinated the band performing it live on the streets of Hollywood using augmented reality.

Months later, he’s still recovering physically.

I went into the bank for quarters the other day, and they’re back to rationing them, only exchanging one roll at a time. Meanwhile, the landlord is finally looking at switching the laundry room to a card system.

A coin shortage seems oddly specific, and the first time I encountered the limit back in… June? July? (I have no idea how much time passes anymore unless I write something down.) I wondered if people were deliberately hoarding coins. Or maybe just quarters. I mean, yeah, I was trying to pick up two to four rolls at a time to reduce the number of physical trips to the bank (planning around reduced hours, and being around *gasp* people!), but I was using them!

Then I saw an article pointing out that it’s simpler than that: people just aren’t out spending cash much — stores have been closed, people aren’t able to work, there have been various levels of stay-at-home orders — so coins aren’t circulating and aren’t making it back to banks. Some fast food places have been doing things like offering a free bag of chips or a free soda instead of change when people pay cash — because it’s easier to restock chips and soda than coins.

I can’t find the specific article I read at the time, but there have been a whole bunch of others since June. Amusingly, I found Forbes back in July saying, Well, actually, it’s not really a coin shortage, it’s a circulation disruption. And yeah, at a high level, you need different strategies to resolve an actual shortage of something vs. a distribution issue. But down at the “I need clean clothes” level it doesn’t make a lot of difference.

Speaking of clothes, I assume the laundry machine service charges more to rent the debit card systems than the quarter boxes. Every big apartment complex I’ve lived in used one, but the small building I live in now has been quarter-based since we moved in. But with the prices climbing, and especially with the ongoing pandemic, I’d much rather recharge a debit card at home than physically walk into the bank every week.