It is fall like but not November fall like. In Minnesota my brother went to a football game wearing Bermuda shorts; it was 75 degrees there. In Claverack, it scraped 65 and I was warm in my pullover fleece.
When I left home this morning, I wandered the Farmer’s Market, picking up a few things I craved like the Sea Salt and Onion cashews from Tierra Farms and some of their Free Trade Honduran coffee. Meandering over to the Red Dot, I had the omelet of the day and then went wandering the streets of Hudson, marching up one side of Warren Street and returning on the other side, an adventure that took me three hours.
There are all kinds of changes on Warren Street and while I have been aware of them, I haven’t walked the street the way I used to when I first arrived here. Some antique stores are gone and seem to have been replaced by clothing stores. Several times I thought I could be in SoHo in Manhattan.
A fancy pizzeria has opened and Olde Hudson has expanded beyond belief. Dena, who owns it, is a friend so I had seen that.
Many of us have been joking lately about the number of expensive cars seen on the street. Not so long ago I spotted a Ferrari parked on Warren Street as I was on my way to meet Larry Divney for lunch. We both said it was the beginning of the end.
When I arrived here fifteen years ago there were no expensive cars on the street. My Acura was an anomaly for the time as was Larry’s Infiniti.
Hudson is becoming a destination. For better or worse. Better for my house value but perhaps worse for those who liked the edge Hudson had when I arrived, a little bit of rebelliousness that was a treasure.
The center of it was the Red Dot, owned by Alana Hauptman who is the Texas Guinan of our town. Don’t know Texas Guinan? She ran the hottest speakeasies in New York during Prohibition. After 16 years, the Dot is still here and still a center of life in Hudson. And Alana is our Texas Guinan.
And walking Warren Street today, I was astounded by the changes. To think that I would be thinking it was a bit like SoHo, which is where I was living when we bought the house, is something I would never have thought then. Sometime, long after I am gone, it will be a lot like Provincetown, I suspect. Or Edgartown on The Vineyard. It’s becoming that kind of place.
But will never be exactly that kind of place. That’s what makes Hudson so special.
There were Porsches everywhere on the street today. When I went back to the Dot after my tour of the street I ran into James Ivory, the director of films like “A Room with a View.” He’s become a bit of friend, has been at parties at my home and dinners too, and one Christmas I spent with him at his house. With Alana…
It has been an interesting escapade to have lived here through all this, to witness the transformation of a community from rough and tumble to almost respectable. It was and is an artist’s haven, a place where writers and painters and actors gather.
Across the river in Catskill, there is the Bridge Street Theater and I went last week to a performance of “Frankenstein.” It was brilliant. And I mean brilliant. Steven Patterson, who did every role, was as riveting as Paul Scofield [“A Man For All Seasons”] when I saw him in London on my first trip there. It was a forgettable script but his performance was transcendent. Steven Patterson’s performance was like that.
Transcendent.
John Sowle directed. Equal kudos to him.
Tonight, I am not talking about politics or world events. I can’t tonight. We are at the near end of the most awful political period I have ever experienced. No matter who wins, the contentiousness will not end.
The creek at night.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack 07 07 2017 Musings on being home…
July 8, 2017As I begin writing, it is twilight at the cottage. The day began damp and grey, changing mid-day to blue and lovely. Sitting on the deck, the torches burn to ward off mosquitoes and to give a sense of atmosphere. It is lovely.
Of course, as soon as I typed those words, I felt the first of the raindrops and had to scutter back into the cottage.
Out there in the world, momentous things have been happening. Trump and Putin met for the first time. Trump: It’s an honor. Putin: ?
It’s certain we will be hearing the parsing of the meeting for days to come. They talked election tampering. Putin: we didn’t. Trump: okay. [At least according to some early reports.] No agreement on Crimea. Not expected.
We are to agree on a ceasefire in southwest Syria. Good for everyone if it holds.
In Washington, Mitch McConnell faces the daunting task of passing the Republican version of healthcare legislation. It seems to be the single most unpopular piece of legislation of the last thirty years.
Over the weekend, I listened to some interviews with people from around the country who were absolutely opposed to Obamacare and absolutely loved the ACA, not realizing they are one and the same. It left me shaking my head in amazement and then, why should I be amazed? We, on both sides of the fence, don’t always analyze and we just react, ideologically, and that seems to be on the increase.
In a bright moment in the world, Malala Yousafzai, a young woman targeted by terrorists, terribly wounded, and who miraculously clawed her way back, graduated from high school today. She is also a Nobel Peace laureate. She celebrated graduation by tweeting her first tweet.
Amazing human being…
Closer to home, Etsy has cut its workforce by 15% and I wonder how that is going to affect the offices on Columbia Street in Hudson. While that is happening, the stock has been upgraded to a buy by some brokers.
It’s interesting to me to walk down Warren Street and see all the businesses that are there that weren’t when I came and to see the ones that are still here, still pulling along. One of my favorites is Carousel, next to the CVS on Warren. One of my friends collects mid-century hammered aluminum pieces and I go in there and sometimes find things for her.
The Red Dot has been here since I arrived and I remember the transition of Brandow’s to Swoon Kitchen Bar. Seems Ca’Mea has always been there since I arrived, though I am not sure about that. That’s a little foggy.
It’s been interesting to watch all of this. The cottage has been my home longer than any place I have lived, including the home I grew up in. That’s sobering. That’s rooting. I like the sense of roots I have created here.
Yesterday, I had my car serviced at Kinderhook Toyota and ran into someone I knew. At the Red Dot, I am always running into people I know. Same for Ca’Mea. It’s wonderful to go into places and be known or to know people there.
The places I’ve lived are many: Minneapolis, Toronto, Carbondale, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington, DC, Eugene, OR, New York City and now Claverack. The places I have visited seem innumerable. They’re not but…
Of all those places, including my hometown of Minneapolis, the only place that has felt like home is here.
And I am enormously grateful for that. It is sweet and satisfying and that is how, I think, it should be as I enter this third act of my life.
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