It is nearing sunset; I am riding north after a day in the city, on the 5:47 out of New York Penn. Todd, one of our most venerable conductors, is conducting a game of trivia in which all of us who ride in the café car are participating. It is lovingly raucous. Some are answering the question before Todd finishes asking the question.
The commute, I don’t miss. The people I do. There is a mixture tonight of old regulars and new regulars. Annette, of Rhinebeck, is screaming answers and folks are singing the songs which are the answers to some of the questions. It is a moment wrapped in warmth.
The sun slips beneath the Catskills in a glow of burnt orange. With Trivia Time now over, we have slipped back to reading, working, with more than a few yawns stretching faces wide.
As in every day there seems to be a necessary amount of political conversations. Our google groups email list for the Empire Regulars, got slightly sidetracked into politics today until Maria, our estimable moderator, stepped in and held up the stop sign. As always, when Maria decrees, the Regulars accede.
While I am far from politically indifferent, the cascade of commentary is wearing. This is going to be a long, long haul and we must husband our strength over time and be laser focused.
Just before I boarded the train, Andrew Mer, a fellow consultant and I had a brief meeting while we discussed the Miller Center a bit and some other things. He said something I thought wise. Trump’s election has laid bare the fissures in our society we have papered over.
And Mr. Trump is helping underscore the fissures.
The attempt to repeal and replace has gone down in flames and there is even a tentative reaching out to Democrats to see what actually be done as the Freedom Caucus is intransient.
California farmers, enthusiastic supporters of Trump, are nonplussed at his immigration intentions. One said: I thought Trump was kidding. He is now anxious because his farm in California runs because of illegal immigrants.
The agony of Rockford, Illinois and other rust belt cities is now at the surface and the failure to deal with that, under both Democrats and Republicans, is a national shame, building for generations. We did not retrain people for other jobs to replace the ones not returning.
And the jobs are not returning until we look at and adapt to the revolution technology is shoving down our throats and figure out what else we can do.
The industrial revolution is coming to an end; whatever history calls this one, we need to find a new way.
The coal jobs in West Virginia probably aren’t coming back. Machines are mining what men once did. Driverless cars will toss aside the long-distance drivers, once a way to climb an economic rung. Not today, not tomorrow but someday, in a future we can almost touch, those jobs will disappear and we are not moving to educate all those people for something different.
The Trump Revolution is not dissimilar to what happened as the Industrial Revolution began the change. People rioted. Today they voted. If we don’t address the systemic issues, the next step will be riots.
The hopeful part is we somehow weathered the arrival of the Industrial Revolution and accomplished incredible things. In the last hundred years, for those in the west, our life spans have doubled, we are more educated, our lives are quite fantastic compared to that of our grandparents. There are friends of mine who are alive because of what has been achieved.
And we need to focus on the fact we are in a revolutionary period. Trump isn’t looking there nor was Hillary Clinton. Our politicians on both sides are facing the past, not the future.
The brilliance of Kennedy was he painted a picture of what could be, not what was.
We have raised the lid on the septic tank and need to clean it now.
What we are achieving technologically in this time has the promise of catapulting us to another level and very few seem to realize it and fewer still imagine how to use it for the common good.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack, written on 3/29/17 Some things are harder than others…
March 30, 2017There is sometimes nothing in the world quite like a vodka soaked olive and so when I made myself a martini tonight, I used olives instead of the traditional lemon twist.
To be truthful, I wasn’t sure I was going to put my fingers to the keyboard tonight. It’s been a cranky day; out early in a chill drizzle doing unpleasant errands, I got home around ten this morning and determined I was not leaving the comfort of the cottage. The fourth straight day of cold grey drizzle had me crying for mercy.
It’s been an emotional couple of days. First, most importantly, young Nick, who helps me is going through a rough patch again and that weighs heavily on me. Which is why I was up early today, to give him support in a rough moment.
As some of you know, I was one of the founders of Blue DOT Indivisible Hudson, a group intended to be politically active in this most distressing of political times. On Monday evening, using a word much used in Washington these days, I “recused” myself from anything more to do with Blue DOT and that was hard, even harder than I had expected it to be.
It was difficult to discover that there was no room for me there and seeing no way there would be, I bowed out. Of the original five, two of us are now gone, one wavering. To say I wish them well is an understatement. And I had to leave.
There are other things I can do, have been doing and will continue to do.
Thus, it has been an emotionally charged couple of days.
That all said, I am at the cottage, the day is closing, jazz is playing, it warm and hygge in the cottage. Saturday will see another dinner party here and I am snuggling into figuring it out.
There were two good calls for the Miller Center for the Presidency today, both exciting in their own way.
The creek is very high because of the rain and it flows swiftly toward the pond now, abandoning for a moment its usual gentle course.
And like the creek today, nothing is gentle.
The Senate Intel Committee is about to launch hearings and is promising to be more aggressive than the House Intel Committee, led by Devin Nunes, who has found himself with his underwear wrapped in knots.
He has muddied the waters with his meeting with some source on the White House grounds that informed him that Trump and his team may have been incidentally listened in on by government agencies. Which lead to Trump feeling “somewhat vindicated” about his, to date, unproven charge that Obama ordered “wiretapping” on Trump Tower.
Truthfully, I have trouble unwinding what the hell is going on. And I’m not the only one.
So, the ball has been moved to the Senate where both the Republican and Democratic leaders of the committee want to know what went on. Those Senators, Republican and Democratic, are talking about this as the biggest thing since Watergate.
And while all of this is going on, the world is facing the greatest humanitarian crisis since the end of World War II.
Millions are starving and we are not paying attention because, basically, we don’t know. The Trump Show is consuming the headlines. South Sudan is a catastrophe. Syria is a catastrophe. Yemen is more than a catastrophe.
Should I, a man who has no real obligations, go to one of those desperate places and offer help? I am thinking about it.
Tags:Blue DOT Indivisible Hudson, Devin Nunes, House Intel Committee, Hygge, Martini, Senate Intel Committee, South Sudan, Syria, Trump, Watergate, White House, Wiretapping Trump Tower, Yemen
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