This is America: We re all (still) tired
Mabinty Quarshie
It’s been more than a year of living in a pandemic that’s upended everyone’s lives. Yes, vaccines are more widely available now in the USA. And more people are actually getting vaccinated if they want to. But people are still getting COVID-19 and dying.
You know, not to be the downer or anything.
I’m Mabinty, a politics editor at USA TODAY and your resident realist. You re reading This is America, a newsletter centered on race, identity and how they shape our lives.
This is our America: We re all wrestling with how to reintegrate into a new normal (while people are dying – and while many in some communities are skeptical of the vaccine that could save their lives). We re anxious about what the future holds. And the reality is that we re more than a year into this pandemic and also more than a year into promised systemic reckonings.
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I ve never been one to exalt when good things happen. It s been many years since even my youngest child was born, so I barely remember the celebration after each arrived. Since each were early-morning babies, it s likely any celebration was short-lived and that, by afternoon, I was in the office looking for typos, mostly mine. I m happy when the University of Utah football team wins a big game, and I jump up and down (in my mind) when a big play occurs. I ve been sincerely happy when people at
City Weekly are given accolades or otherwise called out for an accomplishment of some sort. Me and euphoric happiness, though, are not first cousins.
Now that Utah has a medical cannabis program (for its rollicking timeline, see
City Weekly s Get on the Canna-bus, published April 22), it should be easy for anyone to sign up and start smoking, right? Wrong. There are plenty more steps and hoops to jump through before you re able to even visit a pharmacy.
As many
City Weekly readers likely know, two of our neighboring states Colorado and Nevada have had recreational cannabis programs running for years (on top of their decades-old medical cannabis systems), almost certainly capturing millions of tax dollars from Utahns and residents of other restrictive nearby states.
Itâs definitely been a long, cold lonely winter. And with the blanket of darkness and despair that the pandemic has thrust upon us, any glimmer of hope or positivity is warmly welcomed. And hope and positivity is exactly what the Here Comes the Sun Weekend in Somers Point is all about.
A joint venture put on by the Somers Point Experiences Club and the South Jersey Jazz Society, this free event is named for the George Harrison-penned Beatles classic of the same name and takes place from Friday through Sunday, April 23 to 25, at various locations throughout Somers Pointâs Bayfront Historic District. It will include live music in a variety of styles from jazz to classic rock, as well as arts, crafts and other activities.
For an album that s quite the downer lyrically, Null s
2 for flinching released March 26 is a refreshing piece of DIY rock. The EP employs grittiness that doesn t get lost in itself, maintaining its integrity thanks to quick-changing melodic instrumentals from Val Brown and Chuck Pack and the clear, constant vocals of Emily Parr. Parr s voice is low and plain, a stable slab of sound against backing instruments that shift as a heart rate does when it goes from resting to fight-or-flight. And that suits a work whose themes lie in strife, both inward and outwards; on the opener Air Supply / Weeds, Parr sings tellingly, pleasing you is like breathing underwater. While many of the subsequent tracks on the EP race with rhythm, 404 starts out slow, as Parr sings I m no angel, I dream about killing you. An interruption of tense drums in the middle is a hint at how the song ends, with a grimy cacophony of release, battering drums and a downpour of guitar as Parr continues hope is r