How will SLO survive in the time of coronavirus? Adapt — and be mindful of others

There are two topics of conversation left: toilet paper (where to get it) and the coronavirus (how to avoid it). It’s useless to try to talk with anyone about anything else.

We talk about those things we feel powerless to do anything about. But what can we do? That’s not a cry of despair or a rhetorical question.

My experience from being caught in our last national crisis (I walked out of Fulton Street subway station, two blocks from the World Trade Center, just after the first plane hit and was going up my office elevator to work when the second plane hit) is that human beings are by nature doers, and watching and worrying don’t cut it for long.

The saving grace of 9/11 was hanging together: we all had escape buddies, as soon as we got out of danger there were huge lines to give blood, and that night all the diners in New York sold out of comfort food.

Unfortunately, with the coronavirus, we all have to hang separately. But seeing the tourism part of my small business fall off a cliff, I went round the corner from my office in the Sauer-Adams Adobe to Mee Heng Low and volunteered to deliver Chinese food to self-isolators — along with shouting words of encouragement through closed windows.

“On yer bike,” as they said in the Thatcher years. Get some exercise. Turns out Paul and Russell Kwong were already organizing it.

There’s a kid named Sam DeNicola makes great bread and bikes it over: $10 for a kilo boule, $9 for a 900 gram pullman loaf: slobreadbike@gmail.com.

If I remembered the contact information of the tamalero who delivers to my office every fortnight, I’d print that, too.

I suggest we bring back the Thursday Farmers Market soon, without the crowd draws of entertainment and fast food, using those spaces instead to distance the farm stands. It’s safer to shop at stands outdoors; people need the food; and I’m less sanguine that small local farmers will survive a shutdown than I am about grocery chains and agribusiness.

The ideal of local government is that it can observe closely and calibrate quickly. Downtown bars were flipping the bird to social distancing and needed to be shut down. But I hope places that do have outdoor space, tables, and chairs will be able to open back up with responsible plans for social distancing — like the brand new Liquid Gravity, whose owners, Brendan and Celeste Gough, are now selling their brews as takeaway. That’s a shameless plug, but it’s a plug for people, and any plug for one small business is intended as a plug for all.

After 9/11 I remember the joy of the New York museums opening again. Social media only masks the need for human culture with more depth than a meme. (Why are we suddenly hearing about every celebrity with coronavirus? So the virus will go viral?) Kudos to the SLO Film Festival for pivoting from disaster and putting filmmakers’ work on line for their pass holders! Culture supports us in crisis. Creativity blossoms from it. Look at Renaissance Italy, one long war and plague and art show. So do what you can.

I’ve been reaching out to local institutions to organize webinars, so at least we can talk about our culture in a virtual room. Email me at james@historicities.com if you have an idea or want to take part.

I had been helping jazz songstress Deborah Gilmore, who’s homeless, make sure her monthly concerts at Mama’s Meatball would be packed. I hope we can switch to burning and delivering her CDs.

Adapt. Be mindful of others. When you hunker in your bunker, do something for someone without a bunker to hunker in.

How do I have the time for pre-apocalyptic busy-bodying? Andy Pease just told me on the phone that City Manager Derek Johnson was getting only three hours of sleep a night dealing with coronavirus. I pointed out that normally I get only three hours of sleep trying to keep the city from doing all the dumb stuff it wants to do.

While the city’s distracted, I have time for a little of what makes us a community. Now we all do. We even have time to read the Trib.

In a crisis we remember that without our local paper and the people who staff it, we may survive the crisis — but not as a community.

James Papp is an architectural historian, co-owner of heritage tourism company SLO Walkabout, and member and former chair of the city of San Luis Obispo’s Cultural Heritage Committee. He writes an occasional column for The Tribune.

This story was originally published March 17, 2020 at 12:40 PM.