NOTE: Once thought lost forever due to file corruption, this recently recovered article was originally submitted to Chelsea Community News on September 13, 2020 and should be read with that in mind.

BY REV. JEN MILLER WITH PHOTO S BY JOHN FOSTER THOMAS | On March 16, 2020, I was furloughed from my job at Century 21 Department Store’s Cortland Street location. Naively, I thought that eventually things would go back to normal and I’d get my job back, but weeks turned into months, furloughed turned into laid off, and then Century 21 declared bankruptcy. The iconic store that came roaring back after having its windows blown out during 9/11 could not survive COVID-19. Carrie Bradshaw called C21 the “best thing about jury duty,” but it was much more than that to me. Having a job meant structure, a paycheck, coworkers, and a sense of purpose. If you don’t think selling shoes is an important job, try walking through New York in an uncomfortable pair. (Soon I will likely be locked away in an Amazon warehouse whilst everyone minces around in uncomfortable shoes they’ve purchased online, gushing the ankle blood of the corporate teat onto the empty sidewalks of Manhattan.)

But, back to March 16. It was CC John’s [John Foster Thomas] birthday. We have lived together in Sheepshead Bay for three years. Many people think Sheepshead Bay is uncool and too far away. Keep thinking that way! One of the best things about this neighborhood is that it is a hipster-free zone. Also, it’s right next to the beach, rents are cheap, and we are the youngest people who live here. It’s Florida for people who don’t move to Florida. For John’s birthday I made two cakes from scratch, one shaped like a mermaid and another shapeless yet tasty orange one. We lived on said cake and trail mix for days rather than going to the mobbed Shop & Stop or turning to cannibalism. We watched Netflix, Tiger King, the Cuomo hour and SpongeBob. But pretty soon, SpongeBob’s laughter gave way to the wail of sirens and the dire reality of the pandemic hit home.

On March 29, I woke up to the news that my friend Alan Merrill had died of COVID. He was best known as the writer of I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, but he was still writing and performing and he was a creative mentor to many people including my Goddaughter, Dylan Mars Greenberg, whose films he acted in. It didn’t seem possible, losing a friend to this disease, but soon I had too many friends who’d lost loved ones to this virus to count. Every time I saw a social media post asking, “Do you actually know anyone who had COVID?” I wanted to punch a wall.

I saw 9/11 happen from my kitchen window. I always thought that, even if I lived to be 100, it would be the worst thing I ever saw in my life. This pandemic might not have the same visual impact as two towers on fire, but it is worse. The death count continues to soar while the country becomes more politically divided. But the disease doesn’t care what your political beliefs are. If you have lungs, it wants you! And doctors don’t ask you what your political beliefs are before they put you on a ventilator, they put you in a medically induced coma so they can get the tubes in. That’s how bad it is. Ten years ago, my father was on one for a week before he passed away. It was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever experienced and I don’t wish it on anyone. I take some comfort in knowing he was surrounded by family and friends and also that he was off of the ventilator for a week before he died. Victims of COVID don’t get that luxury. They die in quarantine.

I am sorry I didn’t take the virus seriously enough when it was in China. Kobe Bryant’s death was still the number one story on the news. John said to me, “In a month, COVID is gonna be the only thing on the news,” but I didn’t totally believe it. China is so far away and completely unknowable. All I heard were stories about people eating bats and shit like that. I was ignorant, forgetting we are all human beings. Then the virus exploded in Italy and that was a little closer… Western Civilization.

Still, it was on the other side of the ocean, a different society and culture, people hugging each other all the time, not like New York City where people go out of their way to stay six feet away from each other all the time, even though there are 8.6 million of us crammed together. THEN it got to Washington, but that was the other side of the country! When it got to New Rochelle, even then, I thought it was contained because it’s a suburb. Either I am really fucking stupid or I didn’t wanna believe the news because it was bad.

So, how do you stay sane when surrounded by abject misery, grief, and economic uncertainty while confronted by a disease that wants to kill us all? You will find many online lists suggesting ways to “make the quarantine fun” or more productive, but they are overly simplistic and generally motivated by the desire to sell you some product you don’t need that probably won’t arrive at your home anyway because the post office has gone to shit. Luckily, I am not here to sell you anything (except maybe my art) and I am an expert at thriving in chaos and uncertainty hence I have prepared a list, based on my own experiences during lockdown. If I can stay relatively sane, you can too!

REV. JEN’S GUIDE TO STAYING SANE IN 2020

 Stay Safe (even if it means looking uncool) | We had no masks when the pandemic hit and neither of us can sew, but I managed to fashion us masks out of old T-shirts, a glue gun, and ponytail holders. They looked terrible and were covered in unsightly glue stains, but they got the job done. Eventually, we ordered much cooler SpongeBob-themedmasks off of etsy, where I have a store where you can obtain a plethora of “Rev. Jen”-related merch.

Pretend You Still Have a Job. | Just because you might never be employed again, that’s no reason to be lazy! Even when I did have a job, I woke up at dawn every day to paint. When John and I finally signed the lease to a new pad last year, we scored a deal because the apartment had never been painted. Quickly, I began to paint our home in fantastical murals. The kitchen features a painted tropical garden full of butterfly-winged marmoset monkeys while the bathroom boasts an Atlantean SpongeBob theme. During lockdown, I was able to finish the hallway, which now boasts a trompe l’oeil entrance to an amusement park where a clown eats you. (You can see my murals at reverendjen.org, a website I built during quarantine despite having no idea how to build a website.)

Also during lockdown, inspired by online pictures of friends’ cats, I started a series of paintings entitled Cats of Coney Island depicting their feline friends doing all the things we wished we could be doing like riding The Cyclone, watching Burlesque, and going to the Mermaid Parade. I didn’t know where I was going with the project but it eventually became a 16-painting series where the cats time travel to different eras of Coney. Sometimes I took a break from painting cats to paint sloths and dolphins. The important thing is that I painted every day even when I didn’t feel like it.

Maybe you aren’t a painter, but there is undoubtedly something you are good at or have never tried. If you have some magazines, scissors, and a glue stick, collage is a great mindfulness exercise. When you focus on something, worries tend to drift away. Just don’t forget to punch the imaginary time clock! If you hated your old boss at work, hate yourself even more. Take breaks only to eat and exercise. Showers are optional.

Put on a Show! | The show must go on and sometimes, it must go online. Due to gentrification and lack of venues, my open mic, Reverend Jen’s Anti-Slam, which ran for over 20 years, had been put on hold. Fortunately, there is now Zoom and with the help of Janice “Girlbomb” Erlbaum, we launched a Zoom Anti-Slam. Like the PBS child Zoomers of the 1970s, we Art Stars shared ideas, thoughts, poetry, and comedy. As always, everyone got six minutes and a perfect score of 10.

I also utilized Facebook Live to present tours of our apartment, performances and puppet shows. Inspired by Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood of Make Believe, I created puppets who lived in a “The Neighborhood of Harsh Reality.” The puppets included “Daniel Tiger King,” “Batusi” (a friendly yet misunderstood Bat), the villainous “Lady Elaine Dangles,” “Empty Toilet Paper Roll,” “Prince Humpday,” and more.

And, when not puppeteering, I made appearances on Turnstile Tours. They offer public and private guided tours and interactive virtual programs that explore how New York City works—from the working waterfront and urban ecology, to food systems and public spaces—with an emphasis on lesser-known places and people’s stories and talents. If you are looking for something fun and informative to do, check them out.

Clean Your Troll Dolls | This one really only applies to me, but if you have a collection of approximately 1,000 Trolls, now is a good time to address their hair care needs. It took me a total of three weeks to wash and style each Troll, but now they look like a million bucks. And, while I no longer have a world famous Troll Museum, I currently have a “Troll Pantry,” outfitted with stadium seating (for the Trolls) and disco lights.

Costumes | Much of my life has revolved around costumes and excitement surrounding outfits. However, during the beginning of lockdown, I started to “let myself go,” wearing the same paint-encrusted pajamas day after day. So, I combed my hair, put on my elf ears and created “theme days” such as “Beatnik Day,” “Goth Day,” and “Groovy Day” (wherein I painted a third eye on my forehead and donned a flowing, yellow gown.)

But, the costume I yearned to wear the most was a swimmable mermaid tail I’d acquired via “Fin Fun Mermaid.” Like many young girls, I have often dreamed of being a mermaid and that dream was realized when John and I were able to hop in a car and visit his family on Cape Cod. (We waited until travel restrictions were lifted between New York and Massachusetts, practiced social distancing and wore masks.) I chose to not wear the tail in the ocean lest I be shark bait, but I was able to use it in a nearby pond. The product lived up to its promise of speed, safety, and fun while it also amazed onlookers. Costumes mean you can be anything you want, be it a mermaid, elf or beatnik.

Adopt a Pet or Feed Some Strays | When you are stuck at home, lonely and confronted by existential dread, there is nothing better than the company and love of a pet. Pets don’t know they are unemployed and they don’t care that you are. In fact, your unemployment is the best thing that ever happened to them. Currently, I work full time as a personal assistant to my cat, Tenney. If you don’t have the means for a pet, you can always volunteer at a rescue or feed stray cats. Currently, John and I have been feeding a gang of roughian strays in Brighton Beach. They want very little to do with us, but when I see them chow down, it makes my heart sing.

Finally, Please Don’t Go! | Many people are fleeing New York because paying exorbitant rents for shoebox-sized apartments in a crumbling city is just no longer acceptable. Many articles have been written about how the city is dead, followed by rebuttal articles about how the city is not dead. Methinks the city is simply in hibernation. Dormice hibernate for six months out of the year and when they awaken, it’s with a spring in their step and joy in their tiny rodent hearts. Of course they only live for about five years, half of which they spend asleep, but they make the best of it. If we can all hang in there like Dormice, we will wake one day to cheaper rents, wellsprings of creativity, and more joie de vivre than ever before.

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