The Proof Is in the Pudding

In my travels this morning, I noticed that the local McDonald’s was now hiring—all shifts the outdoor sign said. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, the franchise had also shuttered its indoor dining again—round three if memory serves. Why? Because it’s the law that restaurants and other indoor venues in New York City must check their patrons’ vaccination status. I’m guessing that this McDonald’s—and other fast-food chains in the area—just don’t think it is worth the trouble. That is, having an employee or employees policing their sit-down dining rooms all day long.

Speaking of trouble, have you seen the video clip of a Manhattan restaurant hostess getting physically assaulted by three women from Texas, including a mother and a daughter? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Almost too good to be true from the media's perspective: the antagonists were tourists from the Lone Star State. Except for one thing, they were African-American and not central casting rednecks. The hostess’s crime: asking for proof of vaccination before seating them. The attackers, however, say she hurled a racist epithet and was aggressive toward them. The owner of the eatery—Carmine’s on the Upper West Side—made it abundantly clear: They could have been accommodated in outdoor seating without a fuss. But these are times we live in—people are extra nutty, more narrow-minded, and prone to violence at the drop of a hat.

Despite three million inhabitants still unvaccinated in New York City—an overcrowded, increasingly dirty pressure cooker—it’s worth noting that COVID-19 positivity rates here are the lowest in the state. That said: Enforcing proof of vaccination in business establishments will no doubt inspire more incidents like the Texas Tourist Trio fistfight in the heart of old Manhattan.

Anyway, I’ve got no problem displaying my vaccination card when required, just as I have no issue with presenting my ID when I deposit $50 cash in my own bank account, or visit a patient in a hospital, or purchase a bottle of NyQuil in the drugstore when I have a touch of the flu. Reality check: Nowadays, every American adult needs a picture ID to access everything and anything.

Considering that the New York City 2021 budget was a record-breaker and the adopted budget for fiscal year 2022 establishes another one, I can’t understand why the mayor and company haven’t restored the cuts to the Department of Sanitation. Sidewalk litter baskets are overflowing with garbage all the time and all over town. And how about bringing back organic recycling as promised? The powers-that-be are too busy to see the mess, I guess. They are, primarily, woke and concerned more about offensive statues, intersectionality, and schools for smart kids with too many smart kids in them.

While on the subject of youth, I vividly remember as a kid this ubiquitous New York City ad campaign. It was during the filthy1970s and ran concurrently with Iron Eyes Cody canoeing around polluted waterways with tears running down his cheeks. Each one of the commercials concluded with this punchline: “Don’t dump on New York!” Well, today, the dumpers are back with a vengeance. Countless residents are discarding their disposable facemasks on the streets and sidewalks. I find this act especially appalling because you can just place the thing in your pocket and dump it in the trash at home. You could even do the next best thing and toss it into a public garbage can, which—in many instances—is not much better than throwing it on the ground. But at least your heart would be in the right place.

Footnote: Microsoft Word editor has just added “Inclusiveness” to its recommendations. It seems that my use of the word “hostess” was not a “gender-neutral term.” “Host” was recommended. Also, my use of the term “rednecks” was language that “may imply cultural bias.” So, this is where we are: at a crossroads for creative sorts, who must now navigate waters more precarious than what Iron Eyes Cody encountered. Happily, the software permitted me to ignore the recommendations—but for how long?

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)