It was on March 12 of this year, as the reality of the pandemic was still settling in, that I found myself sitting in the Corona Cafe on Corona St. in Austin, enjoying a coffee before meeting with friends. The eerie coincidence of that setting was not lost on me then.

By then the NBA had declared the season postponed after players on the Utah Jazz tested positive for the coronavirus, a surreal event that I watched unfold on the television of my motel room the night before. I began seeing “social distancing” appear in the headlines of articles that came across my social media feeds. The notion of widespread use of masks was still not yet an apparent reality.

Sitting there in that café, I still wasn’t certain how things would unfold. I knew that there were maybe a couple dozen known cases in Texas at that time, and maybe a handful in Austin. But my only frame of reference I could rest upon was the H1N1 pandemic in 2009, which I remembered being concerned about but ultimately just resulted in more care when washing my hands and avoiding folks who may be sick. Back then, in essence, life seemed to have changed little and the crisis ended quickly.

I had arrived in town the day before to see a dear friend for her birthday and visit an art exhibit. That night I planned to stop in San Antonio to catch the Kamasi Washington concert at the Aztec Theatre on my way back to Corpus. But as I began reading more news alerts, I started wondering whether it was wise to carry on as normal.

It was then I overheard a phone conversation that first illustrated, to me, the deadly impasse that would define the rest of the year.

A person about my age was talking on the phone with their mother. From what I gathered, the parents were proceeding on a trip to Dallas, one their child was none too keen on given the unfolding news.

“Just be careful,” they pleaded, stressing the seriousness of the virus. Their pleas swirled into an argument as the mother on the other line apparently dismissed concerns. “It’s not fake!,” they replied in exasperation.

After a few minutes of the back-and-forth, the conversation ended. In frustration the person I’d been listening to shoved their phone into their pocket. “It’s all a hoax!,” they shouted sarcastically. “This is all a hoax by the Democrats apparently!”

They buried their face into their hands, wiping the frustration from their face.

Nearly a year later, I still revisit that moment in my mind. Obviously, I don’t know what became of that situation, but I remember it now as the moment the seriousness of pandemic made itself felt to me. Even beyond the strangeness of seeing things unfold on television the night before, I saw how stress was being manifested by the people I encountered in public.

But more than that, the argument itself has embodied the larger impasse on a micro scale — namely the lack of belief in the virus, or its seriousness. I think there are many reasons for this disbelief, but most of all I’ve come to see that trait as simply one aspect that, while not exclusive to the U.S., has led to a situation where the nation is seemingly incapable of getting the virus under control. I say one aspect, because in conjunction with other facets of U.S. culture, it has created the perfect environment for stagnation.

For me, that day marks when the pandemic anxiety that has loomed throughout the year first began to cloud my mind. It’s something I’ve long felt the need to write about.

This is just the first entry in a series of posts that I’m simply calling The COVID Notes. I’ve wrestled with a lot of thoughts throughout this pandemic, several I’ve written down in moments of fear or frustration. Others have squirmed in my mind, never making it onto paper and feeding into feelings of anxiety and despair. I always intended to write on these topics, but never thought of sharing them widely until I began thinking about setting up this blog.

I envision at least four other entries in this series, each dealing with specific topics as they relate to the pandemic: American exceptionalism, mortality, escapism, and on the hopeful — as well as cynical — visions of the future ahead of us. I may have other entries, or I may not. I may post them frequently, or spaced out. This really is open-ended.

I don’t really intend for anything other than to record my thoughts and experiences here. But, as with anything I write on this blog, I hope readers glean something from these entries, as well.

If anything, I hope it prompts folks to reflect on the moment we’re in, and perhaps even share their own experiences.