Writing Opportunity as Rebel Sleeps During the Quarantine

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Breakfast and Treadmill

The time is 10:40 am now. Rebel just went back to sleep. I can exercise now. She woke up at 3:30 am when it was still black outside. I can smell her diaper as I write these words. I have to change a dirty diaper from a sleeping baby. Must be uncomfortable. Poor baby. I have lost my appetite for breakfast. Waking up at 3:30 am, going back to sleep at 6:30 am. Waking up now at 10:40 am. Her sleeping patterns are off because of being stuck in the house with the quarantine all day. With a little rain outside yesterday that made the air cold, I couldn’t take her out to the backyard to walk around. She is wide awake. I usually change her diaper, prepare her hot breakfast, feed her before getting on the treadmill. Big diaper by 3:30 am. She is smart. She is growing up and paying attention. She came into the kitchen with me this morning, grabbed the paper package of strawberry oatmeal, ran to the treadmill before me, and got on. I laughed, grabbed my camera. She is such a character crawling on the treadmill. So I held her, walked her slow on the treadmill with me while her water was boiling for her oatmeal. In a few years, she will be making her own avocados with oatmeal and jumping on the treadmill before school starts early in the morning. I have to put her hair up and get it out of her eyes. Governor Steve Sisolak is warning everyone to stay inside. Locals made last minute trips to the dispensaries that were ordered to close by 12:00 pm midnight. Freaking out, the banks might freeze accounts, so I have been warned, but that sounds extreme. Still what isn’t extreme now? Going to the ATM when Rebel wakes. No way I am going to buy groceries today on a Saturday. In the middle of the week I walked out of a Walmart with the baby in the stroller. I was out in the parking lot, walking inside, customers were fighting over wipes and sprays for the shopping carts. I figured if they are fighting here, outside, they are going to get us sick inside. One guy sneezed. Made eye contact with everyone. I walked back to the car. Bizarre. Not shopping with this chaos and a baby. I can’t take chances with Rebel going to the hospital again. Nurses are talking about conditions online. I am reading their reports. Nurses see everything in the hospital. Some of them are evacuating Vegas for Southern California. All the UNLV students are ordered out of the dorms today. Mass evacuation down the street. We usually walk to the Student Union to eat. They just opened new restaurants underneath new apartment complexes with large swimming pools. Gorgeous pools with views and walks to campus classes. Amazing restaurants. Will they come back or file for bankruptcy when the students return? How many students will return? The students leave in the summer. May and June. Campus is a ghost town. The students experienced Vegas. Spend their student loans at nightclubs. Now the thrill is over. They will stay close to their family or study online. Governor Steve Sisolak is putting in light rail trains from the airport to downtown Cashman Center with Carolyn Goodman. Mayor Carolyn Goodman is trying to block Steve Sisolak’s order for closures now so that people will work downtown Fremont Street Experience. Real estate developers like Yohan Lowie in Tivoli Village call her the Mayor of Downtown. Developer for Badlands Golf Course named Yohan Lowie just won a lawsuit again Mayor Goodman and City for millions. The Badlands Golf Course deal went to the Supreme Court. Ruling against the City and Mayor. City lost. Taxpayers lost. Millions in time. Council meetings that lasted until 1:00 am in the morning after beginning at 8:00 am with the Planning Dept/ I was in the Council Meetings 17 hours covering events for my company. Rumor has the cost at $500,000,000 or half a billion dollars. Judgment for Developer Yohan Lowie. Where is that money going to come from? The City of Las Vegas! Taxpayers. Of course. Will Las Vegas go bankrupt under Mayor Carolyn Goodman? My Internet corporation works closely with her in the downtown tech corridor. Politics now between Steve Sisolak and Goodman like when Adam Laxalt was running for Governor against Steve during the October 1st Shooting 2017. My good friend Jon Beckingham from elementary school all the way to today was hospitalized for Coronavirus yesterday. Jon was here in Las Vegas on Valentine’s Day before I left for Missouri. Last year he stayed with me and proposed to his girlfriend, who is now his wife. What a Romantic! February 14th Marriage in Las Vegas! We went out to dinner. Had a great marriage proposal. Nice diamond ring. Jon brought his wife back to Las Vegas for their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day 2020. I had to give him the house key and take off to drive and get Rebel in Missouri. Jon travels a lot from Washington. He is an Engineer for a powerful corporation with government contracts. Jon’s experience woke up the reality when he told me this morning. I warned him in January not to come to Las Vegas for the Chinese New Year was here arriving with the Coronavirus. I am involved in Government Affairs. My sources in Aspen, Colorado, warned me about the virus in Las Vegas via Macau, China tourists. I warned Jon and few friends after hearing warnings from Ankara, Turkey from doctors on the ground in Wuhan. This is when I wrote books on petroleum from Tel Aviv, Egypt and Turkey from 1991 to 1992. These reporters are still involved. On the ground in Wuhan, China in January 2020, they warned that 28,000 were infected by the Coronavirus. The “Official” warnings were not realistic. Official reports are signed by doctors and government officials. How many people get sick without seeing a doctor or going to a hospital especially during Chinese New Year. I was in Yugoslavia, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Egypt during the Persian Gulf War. This experience with the virus is more like war with refugees in constant fear of death, famine and lost supplies like food. The San Francisco Earthquake came and went. Just like the World Trade Center. Most people left San Francisco and New York City, but people like me that stayed noticed that subways, sanitation, garbage trucks, went on like normal after the tower attacks and aftershocks. War is different. War lasts more than one day. Americans only experience war if they serve overseas. Not including the corporate boardroom. I have been in major recessions, 9/11 NYC, Loma Periata Earthquake in SF, 2001 Internet Bubble Burst, 2007-2008 Las Vegas Mortgage Foreclosure Crisis. The Coronavirus is closer to the Yugoslavian War than I have ever felt. More so than Egypt. Every minute I felt like I could die on the Nile River or bus in Serbia. The bus caught on fire at one point. Abandoned Red Cross ambulances blown up on the side of the road next to us. Pregnant women and children carrying their belongings in clothes that were wrapped. Eerie morbid but true. The Coronavirus is a war. I have experienced the differences and this feels like the Nile and blown out highways of Yugoslavia. War, hoarding, lockdowns, this feels like Israel, Palestine, Yugoslavia, not NYC, SF, or the resent wild fires I drove through in Santa Rosa, Weaverville, San Diego or Redding, California. The fires burned next to the car when Rebel’s mother was pregnant. We had to drive from Humboldt to Willow Creek via Arcata then Weaverville to Red Bluff. Redding to Weaverville was on fire. Stay home. If you have food and water, stay home. Don’t wish to sit alone in a hospital bus as it evacuates your virus ridden body to a safe place away from your family outside the city. That is what happens in war torn countries. The US government is now learning from those countries. What do we do with the sick? What do we do with the virus infected in the United States? What do they do in other countries? Buses. They bus the sick away from the healthy people. The bus drivers get on the next buses with the nurses and doctors. They get shipped to quarantine zones. Government officials understand that the healthy survivors vote. Homeless people, children, students, and the sick with illnesses don’t vote, work, or run businesses that contribute to political campaigns. That is the reality. The sick get shipped out. Family or no family. War separates families. Governor Steve Sisolak knows what other leaders are doing. Mayor Carolyn Goodman is worried about business investments in her third term of office. Businesses will contribute to her campaign as Clark County Commissioner, Congress Woman, or Senator like Catherine Cortez Maesto. You taxpayers will never be represented if you don’t pay taxes. You cannot pay taxes in quarantine. You cannot work when you come back from quarantine. Who would hire you? If you owned and operated a business, would you hire you and be around you all day if you grew a business to success and had a family business to provide for? Self-preservation! Save yourselves! Stay home. Please. This is like a tattoo. Tattoos are permanent. Being infected with the Coronavirus is the same as having a facial tattoo on your permanent online record. With the technology government has, everyone with the virus will be tracked for life. That is information technology for you. Census, statistical data, background checks. I studied in San Francisco, California, from 1986 to 1992. Apartments went up for rent in October 1988, 1989, when the cold winter winds came over the hill from San Francisco State University next to the Pacific Ocean. When the earthquake hit October 1999 our apartment windows broke. Landlord never fixed them. The winter was cold. Slept with four blankets on the bed with my girlfriend Wendy. The weight of the blankets was so heavy that we couldn’t move underneath the bed sheets. We had to dress with everything we could wear that winter. Wendy and I saved romance for the middle of the day between classes at San Francisco State. I am sorry to this day for what happened with Wendy and I. January 17-18, 1991, the war started. I went to the Erotic Exotic Ball for New Years Celebration at the famous Gift Center with Cory Hartman, a popular actor in Hollywood. Madonna sang that night. 4:00 am, I got home, packed, went to to San Francisco SFO airport at 7:00 am for a flight to the military base in Frankfurt, Germany. Slept on the airplane to Frankfurt. This is the Home of the Rothschild famous financial bankers and the famous poet Goethe who Napoleon Bonaparte admired. I left Wendy naked in bed in San Francisco alone after dancing all night to go to a war zone along the Nile River in Cairo along the banks of the river to interview Kuwaiti oil barons that controlled the petroleum fields in Kuwait between Luxor and Aswan on the Nile River. The boat never stopped moving. Hard to hit a moving target on the Nile River in a war zone evacuated by recession. No money moves. No manufacturing or production. This is the perfect time to raise war torn fanatic fighters. Mercenaries are prone to be grown from boredom, desperation, lack of money, medicine, I almost died on that trip, first in Athens and then second in Aswan, and left my mother a living will with regret for dying on the Nile without telling her I loved her on a 60 minute TDK audio cassettes with an audio recorder I used to interview the Kuwaitis. I lived. The captain of the boat didn’t want Americans dying on his ship. Instead of the hospital in Aswan which wasn’t safe for US citizens, a doctor that wanted to move to Deerborn, Michigan outside of Detroit, the doctor took me into his home, hid me, nursed me back to health. During the war they had no supplies. Not vitamins, nothing, the medical supplies were always saved for the military and not just the soldiers but military family leaders so they could take care of their children and own family. Governments always take care of their own. People are chess pieces, often pawns unworthy of the chess board game. The bombs were dropped on Baghdad, Iraq, January 17. I was put on a flight to Cairo, Egypt, healthy enough to ride a camel to the Great Pyramids of Giza. Camels get up backwards, back legs first, before raising with front legs like a horse raises when a horse stands up. My mother taught me to ride a horse, shoot a gun, but she never taught me how to ride a camel so I almost fell off. Made it to the pyramid. Climbed in a hole underneath, burial chambers. Went into King Tut’s tomb in Luxor’s Valley of the Kings and Valley of the Queen. No tourists. I got to learn and study everything without tourists. I had the educational experience to myself. Everyone was either scared of United States citizens or hated us during that war. We were blamed for causing a recession or in some cases in the Middle East a Depression. We came from America and dropped bombs. Even the Canadian tourists were scared. They spoke English, so they sewed patches with the Canadian flag on denim shirts, jackets, and blue jeans so that Egyptian locals wouldn’t mistake their English for being US citizens from America.
When I returned from the war to Athens I handed over the cassette tapes at Sheraton Hotel which was a short walk to the Parthenon and Acropolis. I took a bus to visit the Home of the Oracle where Apollo was born from Zeus in Delphi, Greece. Sting sang in the Delphi Amphitheater. Flight to Frankfurt, Germany, US soldiers were ready, lined up to fly and fight in Iraq. Many had been young men outside of America for the first time. Some had never been farther than their home and high school back in the United States.
SFO, back at the San Francisco Airport, no one was there. Wendy was gone. Took a taxi cab back. Back at my apartment, Wendy was gone. The bed made. No one had slept in the bed. The room was cold. Windows still broken from the earthquake. Wendy left for a man named Louis, a friend of Tobias. She was an intelligent girl. Gorgeous long dark Italian features with a husky, smoky voice. She was cold. She was alone. Tobias introduced Wendy to Louis. She was happy until I came back. School started. Louis didn’t go to school. He broke up with her. She started drinking, went to rehab, I brought her underwear, socks, she didn’t have any. She told me not to come back. She didn’t want to see me in her rehab facility. She went to Alcoholic Anonymous meetings, lost the semester, went to law school, moved to San Francisco’s North Beach, changed her name, left the school we were going to together. We were friends long before we ever dated, but we found each other in San Francisco, but after a few visits with painful memories of the past that didn’t last because of the war, Wendy made her statement quite clear, “We can’t see each other. Louis left me because of you. I don’t want to see you again. You are always having an adventure, but I stay here, alone, and I suffer, drink, meet a new guy, then you return. I can’t do it anymore.” I was never with another girl when I was with Wendy. The same thing happened with Jessica. We lived together on the corner of Sanchez and Market Street. She was my best friend, coworker, gym workout partner, like a sister before we started dating, but when we moved into our apartment together, she got a job at a bank on Montgomery Street in the middle of the financial district in San Francisco, next to the Headquarters for Bank of America. One week, I flew to Paris, France, to start my studies in French in the city of Nice, France between Cannes and Monte Carlo. I could ride a jet ski from the beach of Nice to the port of Monaco where the rich parked their boats. I studied with children preparing for the CIA, toured all the cities of Europe on the weeks. Went to sleep on a train on Friday at 8:00 pm, never cheated on Jessica, but met many students, and woke up Saturday morning in Venice, Italy, Munich, Germany, Paris for Bastille Day July 14, 1988, Jessica couldn’t handle it. She told me after she cheated on me, “I was alone. I was so lonely. He brought over a bottle of wine. I got drunk. I got touched. Touched. It was so nice to get touched. To be touched by another man was so nice. I didn’t like him. I don’t even think I was attracted to him. But I was touched. I was drunk. I turned the lights off and I let him take my clothes off. His clothes were already off. I didn’t know it. Next thing I know, we are screwing. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore. I don’t want to lie. You are always going to have adventures. You are always going to be leaving me. I don’t want to be with anyone else, but I don’t want to be with you, I don’t want to be alone.” Jessica was my closest, best friend, before we dated. We broke up on my birthday, April 9th. Jessica took me to dinner, then a Ivan Turgenev play called Fathers and Sons based on the novel. She held my hand. We went to my apartment, the one we shared when we were together. I walked her up to the door, hopefully to my bed, and she said, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. I am going to sit here alone. You go inside. I am going to sit here alone and think. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to.” I left her. I did what she said and left her alone. When I got to my room, I looked out the window. She was gone.” Jessica had the most delicious green eyes. Their amazing appearance made her beauty popular. She dated my friends. I dated her friends. I became Chairman of the Fraternity Sorority Council, Social Chairmen for my fraternity, which i founded and later Vice President of the most popular fraternity on campus TKE. The President, Ronald Reagan, was a TKE. That semester I had a great time with Jill, met Kristi, and Jana. I went to work in New York City. Times Square looked like the DeNiro film Taxi Driver. I returned to San Francisco, Jim Mitchell has shot and killed his brother Artie Mitchell. My girlfriend Shanna worked their with Nina Hartley. I got a job so that I could finish school during the day at the infamous Mitchell Bros. O’Farrell Theater from 6:00 pm to 2:00 am. From 2:00 am to 7:00 am, we danced and partied at DV8, DNA Lounge, and Lipp’s Underground on Harrison. At 8:00 am, whoever I ended up dancing with or friends, dropped me off at my college on Holloway. I played water polo, so I showered in the gym, used the towels, and went to class, studied, returned to my apartment, work, I didn’t date. Not much. I liked dancing and reading. After Jessica, Jill, and Jana, I didn’t want to date anyone at the university, nor any girls at the nightclub. I just wanted to be alone without any emotional attachments. I didn’t care about sex if I could dance all night underneath the underground club in an abandoned wine cellar basement. The music moved me. The best album was Disintegration by The Cure. Plus my friends were dying. We danced. We got wet with sweat. My friends with AIDS got cold, sometimes sick, and came over to say, “Goodbye. I am going to Arizona. Promise me you will have a great life. I am dying. I am going to Arizona. Remember have a great life.”?
Death is sobering. I didn’t care about girls, dating, sex with strange girls or emotions with girls I knew from school. I met a fabulous girl from Fremont, California near San Jose names Michele. We only dated because she was a doctor leaving for Maui, Hawaii to open an Animal Hospital. AIDS came to my community with the cold winter winds. After celebrating Halloween in the Castro where I lived on Market Street the houses and apartments went for rent. Vacated by tenants that left town, some sick with AIDS. I left the country in 1991 while in college for Egypt, Greece and Frankfurt, Germany for the Persian Gulf War. When I came back I heard of the friends that left for dry climates in Arizona for AIDS hospitals near Phoenix. In 1992, I journeyed to Mexico, China, Czechoslovakia, then Hungary, when I returned people sick were dead or moved to Phoenix and Palm Springs. I had no reason to return to San Francisco so I stayed in Prague, Czechoslovakia and went to graduate school in San Rafael, California, for my MBA.
Las Vegas 2020?
I am glad my baby daughter is covered now. She just woke up at 10:00 am. I am going to make her something delicious like whipped mash potatoes with melted butter. I have baby food with Turkey and Gravy. I don’t want her to experience what my friends experienced. I don’t want her to be alone because I went outside to catch a virus. Then she can see me take off alone on a bus to a quarantine zone in an abandoned military base near Hawthorne, Nevada, as she is picked up to be put into a foster care program. There were three people that had temporary custody of her before I got to Missouri. I can’t let that happen ever again. Getting sick changes all that. AIDS, War, viruses, revolutions in Czechoslovakia over the split of Czech Republic and Slovakia. I was there. I lived through all that in Europe. The break up of Yugoslavia. The bus driver told me, “We are in Serbia. We are in Croatia. We are in Austria. We are in Bulgaria.” When I arrived in Istanbul, Turkey with my Czech girlfriend Vendula, I caught a virus like the disease in Egypt that almost killed me. We stayed on the Main Street near the Haga Sophia Mosque. Built by the Romans, the mosque was the first domed Cathedral in the world built by Romans in Constantinople. The beauty of the monument didn’t matter. I was sick. Vendula helped me. She went out and got me food and water. She was a gorgeous blonde Czech model. She could have been kidnapped and sold into white slavery. With her seductive blue eyes, the Principal at her high school fell in love with her. She dated him. He almost got fired from his job in the town high school. Vendula’s father yelled at his from his apartment window when he stood outside professing his love, “She is a high school student, you fool! Schreck? What are you thinking? She is young. You are a principal.” Vendula was the first girl to graduate in her Master’s class. She healed me, nurses me back to health, and taught me the Art History of Istanbul in the center of the city that divides East and West. Vendula spoke Czech, Russian, German and English. Now I believe she speaks Arabic in 2020. She was apart of the Velvet Revolution in Prague at the end of the Berlin Wall, fall of Communism, and End is the Cold War. The Cold War is back now in 2020. Russia versus the West. But we have a revolution going on with a war over this Coronavirus contribution to our American culture. It is no longer 3:30 am. I have to feed a new generation and add milk and butter to potatoes to make a healthy meal for my baby adequately called Rebel Lover Chee.


I hate to admit it, but I love writing, and always traveled the world with an ink pen and paper journal or diary. Now is a good opportunity for you to write. Turn off the TV. You can’t go outside so stay home, work, write, pull out a piece of paper and pen.

Thomas Chee

p.s. Forgive typing errors, forgive grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, all errors, when I write fast. This work is unedited.

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