It has been days since I have written a letter. Partially it is because I have been socially busy when I am usually not. Lionel and Pierre are here. Yesterday his sister and brother-in-law and their son Harry arrived from Australia. Tomorrow they are leaving for a cruise in the Caribbean. While they’re gone, I will be caretaker for Marcel for most of the time, a task I will both enjoy and of which I am afraid. In less than a month, Marcel will be 16 years old. He is a little old man who soldiers on with bravado.
Fall has officially arrived and leaves are beginning to flutter down upon the cottage. Every few minutes an acorn falls on the roof. While still warmish in the days, it cools significantly at night. A cold front is arriving, the weatherman says.
It has been a hectic day, starting early with documents to review, followed by a string of conference calls and then more documents to review. When I went online to post something for my class, I discovered that Blackboard is offline, as it is every Friday at this time, for maintenance. It will have to wait until morning.
Social busyness was the cover for my not wanting to write, to not think about the world. I read the New York Times Briefing every day and have found discouragement in its contents.
More people have been shot. A white female officer in Tulsa has been charged with manslaughter in the case there. In Charlotte, North Carolina, the town that prided itself as being the epitome of the “New South,” is still parsing the death of a black man there while protests have grown violent, leaving one more dead.
At times, frankly, it makes me want to crawl into bed with a chill bottle of vodka and a straw. More and more people are telling me they are tuning out the acrid political scene of this year. They have determined which way they are going to vote and have no need to be brutalized anymore.
The first of the debates are upon us and I may steel myself to watch it. I just don’t know how long I will last.
Two of the most deeply disliked individuals in America are running for President. There is no joy in Mudville.
Palmer Luckey is one of the founders of Oculus, the VR hardware company scooped up by Facebook a bit ago. He is funding an anti-Clinton, pro-Trump group and a small group of developers are now dropping their support for Oculus because of his politics. It’s far from a boycott but is unusual and probably unprecedented in the gaming world.
Once nominated for President, candidates get Secret Service protection. The Secret Service reimburses campaigns for the agents’ travel. In Trump’s case, it goes to TAG Air, a company he owns. It has received $1.6 million so far. I get it… Sort of… Kind of…
Looking for things to distract me from drownings of refugees, our sordid political landscape, I turned tonight to Entertainment News, which is what feeds the American mind most of the time.
“Magnificent Seven” reigns at the box office, headlined by Denzel Washington.
The more than decade long spectacle that has been “Brangelina” is coming to an end as Angelina Jolie has filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences. It was a good show, classier than most, most of the time.
The Emmys have come and gone. All reports [I didn’t watch] was that it was a good show. Jimmy Kimmel was highly praised for his hosting but the back slapping industry love fest plummeted 22% from last year in ratings.
And Jim Parsons, of “Big Bang Theory” is now TV’s highest paid actor, with $25,000,000 coming in for the next, and possibly last, season of the show.
Oh, and Bruce Springsteen called Trump a “moron.”
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack 09 04 2017
September 4, 2017It is an excruciatingly beautiful day at the cottage, the sun is warm, a wind blows to temper it, the only sound is soft jazz in the other room. I have just finished a late lunch of eggs, sunny side up, steak and toast, eaten on the deck. The first leaves have begun to fall, scattered on the table top, reminding me of the fleetingness of time.
Soon we will be in another season, fall, which I love and loathe, as I always seem so alive in the fall and, at the same time, so painfully aware life is short and death is long. It’s been that way ever since I was a kid, walking down the leaf strewn streets of south Minneapolis, knowing winter was coming and being entranced by the magic in the air.
It is Labor Day, 2017.
“According to the U.S. Department of Labor, the holiday is ‘a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers.’ Labor Day is a ‘yearly national tribute’ to the “contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity and wellbeing of our country. Newsweek, 9/04/2017
And it is a holiday with a bloody history. “Labor” wasn’t always celebrated. Suggested reading: Walter Lord’s “The Good Years.”
The summer is unofficially ending when this day becomes part of history. When I was a kid, it meant school was starting the next day so this was a day I always endured fearfully. Today, I am not fearful about returning to school. There are other things…
Kim Jong-Un has me a little fearful as does having Trump be the president who is facing him. There was some analysis this morning that the timing of Kim’s tests of bombs and missiles has more to do with tweaking President Xi of China than with President Trump. The latest bomb test came just as Xi was greeting officials from the BRIC countries, Brazil, Russia, India and China. Took the wind out of Xi’s sails in terms of making news. Kim does these things lately just as Xi is set to make some news. Hey, I’m HERE, President Xi! Got it? I’m here and I’ve got some pretty big toys!
U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Nikki Haley, has said North Korea “is begging for war.” President Trump is saying, “All options are on the table.” This might not end well.
Down in the Caribbean sits the Dutch island of Saba, part of the Leeward Islands, which I visited in February. Friends have retired there and are sitting directly in the path of Hurricane Irma, now a category 4 storm. An email today said they will be in the eye of the hurricane tomorrow and were busily preparing, friends helping friends prepare for what could be a very nasty ride. If you pray, think of them.
Michael Eros, son of my longtime friends, Mary Clare and Jim Eros, is returning to Houston today after the Burning Man Festival. He left Houston before Harvey hit and he will now find out what it has done to his city. He and friends built a giant figure which they burned, leaving behind the metal shell.
Harvey will likely be the most expensive storm in history; it is believed 180 billion dollars of damage has been done. Ted Cruz is having a hard time now explaining why he voted against Sandy help now that he is asking for Harvey help. The phrase, “people who live in glass houses,” comes to mind.
There are joyful things happening in the world. Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge are expecting their third child. Peggy Whitson has returned from the International Space Station, having notched more time in space than any other American. There will be another Indiana Jones film, without Shia LeBeouf’s character. A young girl in Harvey’s floodwaters got herself and her family rescued by asking Siri to call the Coast Guard, which rescued her as she was slipping into a sickle cell anemia crisis.
Bad things will happen. Good things will happen. All we need to do, to keep moving forward, is not to blow ourselves up. I’ll pray for that.
Tags:Angelina Jolie, Begging for war, Burning Man, China, Claverack, Claverack Cottage, Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Irma, Indiana Jones, Kim Jong - Un, Labor Day, Leeward Islands, Michael Eros, Nikki Haley, Peggy Whitson, Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge, Saba, Shia LeBeouf, Siri, Xi
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