The sun is setting as I sit looking out at the creek, the vista in front of me full of greying light and the still barren branches of the trees clawing to the sky.
Mahler plays in the background. He seemed right for the moment, a day in which I have been enraged and sad, felt broken and hopeless, contemplative and escapist.
When the alarms went off this morning, the screen of my phone was cluttered with news pushes from the BBC and AP about the tragedy in Brussels. I rubbed my eyes and attempted to focus, not wanting to believe what I was reading. But it was there, a truth that had entered the world, unwanted but present, never to be put back in any bottle.
I hit the snooze alarm and closed my eyes, staying there until I had to break into the day. Playing commuter, I made a round trip to the city today for a meeting I felt I could not miss. If I missed my train, I might miss the meeting.
It seemed inconsequential when I really thought about it, a media meeting balanced against the carnage of Brussels, another IS attack on western civilization. However, our worlds go on and we met and it was good and some business might develop from it and we never talked about Brussels.
We are becoming inured to the cadence of troubles that has burst upon the world. We are accepting all of this as the new normal, much as did the Russians did during the last fifty years of the Empire when anarchists struck again and again. You have to go on because what else does one do?
Perhaps we should take a break, think about what is happening, see what individually we might do to change the horrible road we’re on.
We don’t really know how to change the map, the road; we do our best, or our worst, and keep on going. We are, at this moment, caught up in the flow of history and we poor individuals don’t know how to do much to change it yet it is somehow, in democracies, in our hands.
Ted Cruz has apparently called for the patrolling and monitoring of American Muslim communities. I wanted to take my phone and throw it across the drive when I read that.
How do we make them our friends when we cast them all as enemies?
It is frightening and complex and every Muslim I know is as appalled by IS as I am. Monitor and patrol their communities? He is taking a page from the Trump playbook.
As I drove to the train this morning a commentator on “Democracy Now” which I do not often listen to, claimed that if there were a Brussels style attack in America just before the election we will be looking at a President Trump.
And I was afraid he might be right.
On my way out of town tonight, on the 4:40 heading north, I might have been imaging it but it seemed there were a lot more soldiers in Penn Station than there normally are. And I understood it.
Facebook notified me that Facebook friends of mine in Brussels were all safe, for which I was grateful.
I am frightened tonight. I am going into the city again tomorrow and that doesn’t frighten me. But the world in which we are living frightens me.
“The War on Terror” may not be the best option in dealing with this situation which is rapidly, I think, growing out of control.
We have failed to address systemic issues in the Mideast and are reaping the rewards. Just saying…
I am in the third act of my life. It is for my younger friends and relatives I am concerned.
It is for the world I was born into that I am concerned. It is slipping away from us. IS is taking our peace and our consumption habits seem about to take much else from us.
Scientists are saying global warming is worse than they thought.
No wonder I am playing Mahler tonight.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From New York 08 30 2016 Headed south…
August 30, 2016The train moves south along a placid Hudson River. I am only forty minutes out of New York and as we pull into Croton Harmon, sailboats dot the river and bob lightly at anchor. I am in town for two days to see friends, shoot a pilot with Howard Bloom and then to head home. I am feeling very mellow this morning.
Relieved I know what I am going to do my first day of class, I am now plotting out the rest of the semester.
It’s been a few days since I’ve written, days that seemed more hectic than I would have expected, with more to do and with unexpected delights.
Claire and Leonard, who almost always sit in front of me in church, offered for me to come by and take vegetables and flowers from their garden. They are off for two weeks in Greece. I went over on Friday and harvested from their garden beans and squash, flowers and potatoes, luscious tomatoes, garlic and fresh rosemary. As we gathered, a light rain fell and it seemed right to be in the garden just then. For a moment I was much in touch with my body and nature. A monarch butterfly floated by and rested on a flower near where we stood. How rarely I see them so closely.
Lionel and Pierre came for the weekend which meant long, delightful dinners with a finish of cleansing vodka and a good “chin wag.” It feels peaceful in my world.
The rest of the world, not so much. IS has killed fifty plus in Yemen, a country that has seen 10,000 die in its civil war, according to the UN, a number higher than previously thought. A suicide bomber struck the Chinese Embassy in Kyrgyzstan. 6500, sixty-five hundred, migrants have been rescued from the sea near Libya, including a pair of newborn twins. The number staggers my mind.
Venice, it appears, is being destroyed by tourism. In 65 years, the population has dwindled by two thirds and landmarks are lost to hotels. The UN may take away its status as a world heritage site.
Gene Wilder, star of one of my favorite films, “Young Frankenstein,” passed away yesterday, of complications from Alzheimer’s. It saddens me to think of his brilliance falling away, victim to the disease. Who can forget him in “The Producers?” That generation is leaving us.
Today in politics, John McCain, Marco Rubio, and Debbie Wasserman Schultz must win primaries if they are to stand in the fall for election. At this moment, while the voting goes on, all three are expected to win.
On the way to the train station, I listened to “Democracy Now” with Amy Goodman as she and others did an exegesis of the EpiPen scandal. If you somehow have missed it, EpiPen, a life saving device and drug for those with allergies, has seen its price increase 400% over the last nine years. There is a public hue and cry about the issue. One of the women on “Democracy Now” has seen her insurance co-pay for EpiPens swell from $50.00 to $300.00, a price she cannot afford.
There is going to be, I’m sure, a Congressional investigation. The woman who runs Mylan, the drug company selling EpiPen, is the daughter of a Senator from West Virginia. She is fighting the demonization of her on social media.
The train is sliding into New York, we have entered the tunnels and will soon be in Penn Station, a place called by New York’s Governor Cuomo, one of the seven levels of hell in Dante’s “Inferno.”
As I exited this “hell,” a lovely middle aged woman stood between Track’s Restaurant and McDonald’s, playing lovely classical music. I stopped and gave her a dollar for the smile she had given me as I entered the subway.
Tags:Amtrak, Amy Goodman, Andrew Cuomo, Claverack, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, Democracy Now, EpiPen, Gene Wilder, Hudson, IS, John McCain, Marco Rubio, Mat Tombers, Mathew Tombers, Mylan, New York, Penn Station, Tracks Restaurant, Venice
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