Edgartown harbor shimmers below me; boats bob at anchor on a quiet, very warm afternoon on Martha’s Vineyard – the warmest day I have experienced in the half dozen or so summers I have visited the island. Seated in the shade, with a soft wind blowing off the water, it is tolerable though earlier today most people seemed intent on finding air conditioning, crowding cool restaurants and shops.
Last year I was here to help with my friends’ bookstore, Edgartown Books. This year, I am here for just a week, to relax, read, relax some more, eat, perhaps sail a bit with my friends, eat, relax, sip a martini, read, a wonderful and undemanding rhythm; my friend Jeffrey calls it “the land of off.”
Reading was too wearying for me and I went to my room and promptly napped, waking just in time for a conference call.
Sadie, one of the two Bernese mountain dogs who live here, is recovering from back surgery, making slow and steady improvement from a bad fall some months ago. Every day, she has water therapy in the pool.
Far above me, a bi-plane circles, taking sightseers on an aerial tour of the island. It is soft, bucolic and very, very far from the madding crowd.
Which is why it is very nice, in these strange times, to be in “the land of off.” The amount of news consumed is less. Last year, the kitchen television played CNN. This year, old movies run constantly. In the background of my morning coffee, “The Great Race” played, starring Natalie Wood and Tony Curtis.
Finishing a trifle of a murder mystery by a woman who seems to knock off a book a month, I felt content with little demanded of me.
An exegesis of political affairs is a shade depressing, to make mild of a situation now more astounding by the day.
Donald Trump, Jr. is being described as a “good boy,” a “nice young man” though he is scraping forty and has five children. It is a time honored American defense used by the Kennedys when Teddy drove off a bridge not far from where I sit and a young woman died, Mary Jo Kopechne, lest we forget her name. It is a time-honored defense for American men though not for women. Ponder that.
Railing to the New York Times, Donald Trump, has declared he would never have offered Jeff Sessions the job of Attorney General if he had known he would recuse himself from the Russian investigation. Sessions has said, post Trump’s remarks, he’ll stay as long as “it’s appropriate.” Geez, I don’t know if I would stay when I knew I wasn’t wanted, especially so publicly unwanted.
Today, at noon, Trump celebrated the six-month mark in office. You make your own decision on how well he has done. We are one eighth of the way through his Presidency.
In Palos Verde, CA, forty-one-year old Chester Bennington, lead singer of the group Linkin Park, was found dead, an apparent suicide, succumbing to the demons he was open about but could not, it seems, master. Rest in peace.
Twenty-two years ago, I was in Australia when OJ Simpson was acquitted of murdering his wife Nicole and her friend, Ron Goldman. Today he was granted parole from a prison sentence resulting from an armed robbery. He should be released in October.
Seeking comfort, I watch the newest season of “Midsomer Mysteries” and anticipate the return of “The Last Tycoon,” starring Matt Bomer and Kelsey Grammer, about a movie studio in the 1930’s, based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s last, unfinished novel.
It seems no wonder to me, we are immersing ourselves in some of the best television in history; we need escape, diversion and pleasure from a world that is more than untidy.
So, I sit, on my friends’ deck, watching boats bob at anchor or scud across the bay, with birds chirping while Sadie is ministered to, the future feels far, far away and the present oh so pleasant.
Letter from Claverack 07 22 2017 Still in the land of off, praying for souls…
July 22, 2017It is Saturday afternoon; I am sitting where I have been sitting every afternoon since arriving on Martha’s Vineyard, on the veranda of my friends’ home, gazing out at the harbor, listening to the sound of boats motoring. There is almost no wind and so the sailboats, if moving at all, are using their motors.
It was early that I woke this morning, nudged into wakefulness by a text on my phone. A second text banished sleep and I laid in bed and read the NY Times, edging into the day with the Food section. Hard news seemed too much for the early hour.
Joining my friend, Jeffrey, we went over to Behind the Bookstore to pick up some things to take to their outpost up in Vineyard Haven where Igor made me a powerful coffee drink with a hint of lavender. Back at BTB with some needed ice, I soothed the caffeine edge with a mimosa.
Now, I am back in my favorite spot, reading science fiction short stories before starting the mystery I purchased at Edgartown Books this morning, “Moriarity,” about which I had read good things earlier in the year. Yesterday, I finished a trifle of a mystery just before a marathon nap.
Jeffrey calls this the “land of off.” It is; I am very “off.” It is a comfortable house in both physical terms and the graciousness of my hosts. As I wandered into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich, I appreciated that.
Later in the day, I looked at the news and winced. Today’s twitter storm seemed to be all about our President telling the world that he absolutely has a right to pardon anyone he wants, including himself.
Witnessing these things results in some attitude I have yet to describe, a mélange of incoherence, amusement, fear, incredulity and amazement. There must be a word for it somewhere.
A friend forwarded me an article today; it is a portrait of the man who is leading a prayer group that includes most of our President’s cabinet. It seems he believes God only hears the prayers of Christians. My friend is Jewish. Her only comment: Oy!
I concur.
Sean Spicer left the building yesterday, resigning after the elevation of Scaramucci to the office of White House Communications Director, a move with which Spicer had vehemently disagreed. But he was named and Spicer left, replaced by Sarah Huckabee Sanders. It is hoped Melissa McCarthy can do as good a job with her as she did with “Spicey.”
The NY Times published a scathing, oh, really scathing article called, “The Mooch and the Mogul.” You can read it here.
Googling for an article that praised Scaramucci’s appointment, I found little. The closest was this, an article in Forbes, by Nathan Vardi. You can read that here. It’s not that great but best to be found. Apparently, the NY Times called him “the mooch” because that’s his nickname on Wall Street.
Meanwhile, Congress has put together a package of sanctions against Russia that our president is not going to like. It has broad bi-partisan support. Imagine that?! Insiders think the president won’t veto it despite how much he dislikes it.
John Heard, the father in the “Home Alone” movies, passed away at 71, while recovering from back surgery. R.I.P.
And R.I.P. to Jamel Dunn, a disabled Florida man who drowned while five teenage boys recorded his demise, laughing and taunting him, doing nothing to help him. They posted the video on YouTube and didn’t bother to alert authorities. Florida police are searching for a statue by which to charge them.
It is a story which saddens me, sickens me and causes me to wonder about my fellowman.
Tonight, I will say a prayer for Jamel Dunn and for the souls of the young men who laughed while he died and light candles next time I am in church.
Tags:Behind the Bookstore, BTB, Edgartown Books, Florida drowning, Forbes, Home Alone, Jamel Dunn, Jemal Dunn, John Heard, Land of Off, Martha's Vineyard, Nathan Vardi, NY Times, President's Cabinet, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, Scaramucci, Sean Spicer, Spicey, The Mooch and The Mogul, Vineyard Haven
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