Today, earlier, as I sat sipping morning coffee, two huge geese came crashing through a tree fallen across the creek, landing hard, splashing as they hit creek water. It was startling. Geese, once so abundant on my creek, have been rare these last few years. Mature birds these, I wondered if they were from one of the many families of geese I have seen growing up while I have resided at the cottage, come home to roost for a moment. Sailing majestically up and down for a time, they departed and I’ve not seen them again.
Irma has become a Category 5 Hurricane and will reach Saba tonight, the Caribbean island I visited earlier this year. Two friends from my Los Angeles days have retired there and will be facing her fury as I write this. For a while, I got lost on Facebook to see if they had posted anything new but they hadn’t. It’s now that time when you get on your knees and pray, which I will tonight and have not done since my very Catholic days and that was a long while ago. And I am worried for them because Irma is as fiercer than Harvey.
Hopefully, I will know tomorrow more than I know tonight. Tonight, they are battening down the hatches and waiting, hoping, maybe praying though I don’t think either of them are religious. There have been posts from people I met there. They will be in my prayers, too.
Tonight, across the country, “Dreamers” are praying because Jeff Sessions announced the end of Obama’s DACA order and Congress has six months to fix it or all those “dreamers” will begin to be deported.
Color me cynical. How cruel can this Administration be? Trump is playing to his base but not to the interests of the country. Color me angry and not surprised. So little surprises me anymore. And there are all kinds of folks who think this is just wonderful.
And that scares me and makes me hopeful because all the rage in America is boiling to surface and maybe we will finally deal with it. It would be good if we did because we are in a very delicate place.
Back in the day, long, long ago, I was in Canada to be in my roommate’s wedding to a Canadian woman and, as I was preparing to leave, a group of my Canadian friends did an “intervention.” They did not want me to leave. Viet Nam was in play. They wanted me to stay, become a Canadian.
I didn’t. Because I was an American. It was a very profound moment in my life, making the decision to return. Those were people I loved, who loved me and I might have been happy there – a completely different life but not unhappy.
But I am an American and so I returned, got lucky, didn’t go to Viet Nam, didn’t serve in the military and made my life here.
But here is not the here I know. This here seems very strange to me, like the clock has been turned back and I don’t get it. Something is afoot and we need to fix it, once and for all. Maybe electing Trump will be the catalyst to fixing the festering wound that has damaged our national soul.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack 09 15 2017 Thoughts from a train…
September 15, 2017It’s early on Friday morning and I am cruising down to the city today to have lunch with James Green, my former CEO from Sabela Media. It’s sale to 24/7 is what resulted in my moving to New York and ultimately in my being on this train, on my way to see him.
When I woke this morning, the cottage was being pelted by heavy rain and by the time I reached the train station the sun had broken through and there is the promise of a lovely day in front of me.
I will probably not linger in the city as I will be back again next Monday and Wednesday and today have a lot of cleaning up to do.
Cleaning up is what my friends on Saba are doing, my sister and brother-in-law in Florida, people in Georgia and South Caroline and the Keys and Cuba; everywhere touched by the wrath of Irma, following hard on the heels of Harvey, thinking of that just after texting my friend in Houston who missed Harvey and has now returned.
Figuring out what to do about the pudgy, pugnacious, paranoid, peculiar, peevish, perturbed, peculiar, pesky, piggish, perverse, pompous, potbellied, preposterous little dictator Kim Jong-Un in North Korea is becoming ever more problematic. While I slept, he shot another missile across Japan, after the U.N. passed more sanctions against him.
Distressing, horrible and disturbing is that another bomb went off in the London subway, eighteen have been injured. Thankfully none of them seriously. Something went wrong and it apparently didn’t fully detonate. Thank God.
Our Tweeter in Chief, lectured the Brits and used the incident to appeal for a broader travel ban and tighter internet controls. I didn’t see any condolences; might have missed them. I hope they were sent.
They weren’t sent after the earthquake in Mexico that killed a hundred; that has resulted in increasing the stress in our already stressed relations with that country. It’s a pretty deep and treacherous arroyo.
Out is space, the Cassini spacecraft has burned up in the rings of Saturn after discovering six new moons and many other discoveries, including subsurface oceans on Enceladus. Mysteries to be solved, discovered by a mission that some scientists have worked on for nearly three decades. At the end, they hugged, applauded and cried.
Earlier today I posted this quote on Facebook:
“You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, ‘Look at that, you son of a bitch.”
― Edgar D. Mitchell about looking at the earth from the moon…
And that’s what I want to say to Kim Jong-Un and the rest of the politicians. Look at that you sons of bitches! Look at that!
Tags:Cassini, Claverack, Claverack Cottage, Edgar Mithchell, Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Irma, James Green, Kim Jong - Un, London Tube bombing, Mexican Earthquake, Saba, Sabela Media
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