Art is 80

Part 1: The Dream

I am a young man. My friend and I are going to spend some idle time. He’s a good friend. But we are joined by another young fellow – this one a tough guy. In my opinion, a thug. But OK.

The three of us are on a largely empty, but large, parking lot. One truck is there, with its driver in the cab. The thug and the driver get into an argument. The thug pulls a gun from his pocket and shoots the truck driver, who appears dead.

The entire truck goes up in flames. How did that happen?

The three of us are in an empty room next to the parking lot. The two others are on a video chat talking about the truck that is burning. I am appalled. We are right next to a murdered man, and one of us murdered him. I don’t want to be identified. I am not part of the chat, but I take one of those gray, plastic wastebaskets and put it over my head.

I start for home. I think about what happened. I realize I have no memory of what happened between the gunshot and the truck being on fire. Did I do anything? Would anyone believe me if I said I didn’t? Would the thug even say it was all my fault?

My life is ruined forever. I need a lawyer. A good lawyer. I go home to tell my parents. I am afraid and embarrassed. I’m not even sure how much to tell them. My parents are not home. WHERE ARE MY PARENTS WHEN I NEED THEM?

Part 2: The Reality

I am again thinking about is the return of Netanyahu as leader of the Israeli government, with new ministers who have as positions: (1) more tough police control of the 20% of Israel’s population that is Arab, (2) annexation of parts of the West Bank into Israel, (3) more support for fundamentalist Jewish religious schools, (4) allowing Haredi Jews to avoid military training or state service, and (5) no two-state solution.

Perhaps the most positive recent event in Israel has been the development and implementation of the Abraham Accords, with full diplomatic relations between Israel and a number of Arab countries, and relaxed relations with a number of others. There are those who attribute the Abraham Accords to Trump and Netanyahu. From what I can see, this attribution is 100% wrong. Here is my read: Netanyahu was talking about annexing parts of the occupied West Bank which had large Jewish settlements. Trump (and Kushner) came up with a “peace plan” which went nowhere, but would have allowed for annexation if certain preconditions were met. Trump then agreed with Netanyahu that if Israel wanted to annex parts of the West Bank at once, well before the preconditions were met, it would be fine with him.

Both panicked and seeing an opportunity, the business and political leaders of the UAE and Dubai (with silent Saudi assent) got into action, worried about the results of quick annexation. They developed the plan to allow for commercial and diplomatic relations with Israel (obviously to everyone’s advantage) in return for, among other things, Israel agreeing that annexation would be put on hold. Netanyahu agreed. But he is now pledged to break his pledge and to permit at least some expansion of Israeli’s national boundaries through annexations.

To the extent the new Netanyahu right wing government will annex Palestinian lands, clamp down on Israeli Arabs within the current State of Israel, deepen the divide between religious and non-religious Jewish Israelis, and so forth, it can only weaken Israeli relations with its partners in the Abraham Accords, with many or most Jews outside of Israel, and eventually with the American government. Perhaps, the right wing Israelis do not really care. The center and left wing minority in Israel clearly cares. The fact that the right wing is so much more powerful than the others is the overriding tragedy of Israel today.

Of course, there are those who say that these extreme positions will be modified once the new coalition takes power. But they said this about Hitler, too. And Trump. As outgoing prime minister Lapid has recently said about the new government: “This is not going to end well.”

Before we get to Lawrence, once again I must digress. A dream last night. I am with my parents. I am sitting; they are standing. My mother has just returned from taking her final classes. She says: “What do you think I should do next? Work for the government as a prosecutor? Or work for a law firm as a defense attorney?”

My response: “Mother. You are 113 years old. No one your age starts a new career.”

Now to our main topic.

Last night, for the second night in a row, we watched a movie based on a D.H. Lawrence novel. The night before last, it was the new Netflix film, “Lady Chatterly’s Lover”. Last night, it was “Kangaroo”.

You probably have not read “Kangaroo”, a novel written by Lawrence during the three months or so that he and his wife Frieda spent in Australia in 1922. While “Lady Chatterly” was a novel of erotic emotion,
“Kangaroo” is primarily a political novel. And although it is, for the most part, pure fiction, you know that the lead couple, a young British author escaping the mess that is Europe after the first World War and his German wife, are stand-ins for the Lawrences.

Australia is the new country, a virtual new world, that they are looking for. But what type of country will develop in this remote and rough-looking landscape? In 1922, Australia was a British colony experimenting with self-government. But the Australian colonial government hardly appears in the novel. There are other political movements afoot.

The novel centers on a proto-fascist leader, Benjamin Cooley, known as Kangaroo. His vision is a strong Australia, led by a brotherhood of military-trained believers called the Diggers, who worship him as a great leader. Sound familiar? His opposition? A socialist/Marxist leader of the working class, looking to replicate in Australia what had recently happened in the Russian Empire. Each of these movements would like young pseudo-Lawrence, a relatively well known English writer, to become their publicist; neither is successful in winning him over and, after a public clash between the Diggers and the workers, leading to death and destruction, the young writer and his wife decide that Australia may not be for them, and they decide to try the United States.

In 1922, Europe was trying to find itself, the war behind it, the Versailles treaty provisions bearing down on defeated Germany. Hitler had yet to appear (the Munich putsch took place in 1923), but Mussolini took power in Italy in 1922, and is referenced in the novel. And, in 1922, the Bolshevik revolution in Russia was only five years old; Lenin was still alive, and Communism on the upswing in many places.

“Kangaroo” is a very good book (it even has some relevance today) and I recommend it. The 1987 film – not so. Skip it.

One more thing about “Kangaroo”. In the book, but interestingly not in the film, Kangaroo himself is Jewish. He isn’t a religious man, and he doesn’t appear to be part of a broader Jewish community, but he is Jewish. An unanswered question is why D.H. Lawrence made Kangaroo Jewish – was it a sign of antisemitism on Lawrence’ part? Or what?

I wanted to explore this a little and, surprisingly, found an article from Commentary Magazine in 1970 – by, of all people, Berkeley biblical scholar Robert Alter. Alter’s article looked at two authors – D.H. Lawrence and T.S. Eliot, both of whom had written about Jews. He examines the Jewish Kangaroo and other writings by Lawrence and decides he was not antisemitic; he reaches a very different conclusion about Eliot. Why, then, does Alter think Lawrence decided to create a Jewish Kangaroo? He posits that Lawrence wanted to show a fascist as a father figure and God is a father figure and in western civilization, whether you are Christian or Jewish, you look at God as being Jewish. (Is that really what Alter said? It was a convoluted argument, to be sure, and I may have misunderstood it completely, though I don’t think so. Alter, of course is still around. Should we ask him what he meant? If he still thinks this? If he even remembers that he wrote this article? But, again, I digress.)

That’s it for today. Temperatures falling. Staying home two days in a row. Today waiting for a stranger coming at 11 to figure out what is wrong with our dishwasher. We shall see.

But, first, let me digress. Why did Zelenskyy wear green pants and a green sweat shirt when he met with President Biden and spoke before Congress? Second, why did the “Jewish” president of Ukraine wish everyone Merry Christmas, but not Happy Hanukkah?

Now, to the main subject. “Lady Chatterly’s Lover”.

A lot of people are watching it on Netflix, I assume. I say that because the last three people I have mentioned it to have all watched it. We watched it last night.

As a film, it is worth watch. The acting is good. The story line is a good one. The nudity fits in with the story – does not seem gratuitous and is tasteful.

But there are a few things in the film that I noticed were different from the book. They were changed in a way that neither added to nor detracted from the D.H. Lawrence novel. So why were they changed?

I should say: SPOILER!!! and let you know that I read the book within the past month or so and this is based on my recollections of the book (again and as usual, I strive for 80% accuracy).

1. In the book, when Clifford first suggested that Connie have an affair to produce the heir that he could not produce after his war injury, she tried with one of Clifford’s friends who attended a party at their home. The party was in the film, as was the character, but there was nothing about their liaison. Why the change?
2. When Connie first met Oliver in the book, I remember it was at the pheasant hut, not at Oliver’s house. They met at the hut a few times before Connie went to his house. Why the change?
3. In the film, Connie was on her way to Venice, but still in London with her father and sister, when she heard that Oliver had been dismissed by Clifford and she rushed back. In the book, Oliver’s dismissal happened when Connie was already in Venice and she learned about it on her return. Why the change?
4. Finally, in the book, Connie receives the letter from Oliver when she is with her sister, telling her that he is somewhere living on a farm, and the book ends. In the film, Oliver tells her he is on a farm in Scotland, and she finds her way there and they reconnect. This is the only change of any real substance – but does it add something, or does it subtract something from the story?

At any rate – it seemed to me that it was change for the sake of change. That may be OK if you are suffering from boredom, but why in this film version of a classic book?

By the way, I read two other D.H. Lawrence books this year, and have a number that I want to read next year. The two others I read this year are little known – “Kangaroo”, set in Australia, and a Penguin book of “Selected Letters”, which were more interesting than I thought they would be. There is a film version of “Kangaroo”, I am told – that’s on the list, as well. There are also at least two older film versions of Lady Chatterly – I probably will not look at these.

By the way – for those very few who may somewhat slightly care – although the new furnace is good, the dishwasher is still not working.

(1) In case you are wondering who else is 80:

Joe Biden

Paul McCartney

Harrison Ford

Judge Judy

Barbara Streisand

Calvin Klein

Martin Scorsese

Michael Bloomberg

Wayne Newton

Garrison Keillor

Isabelle Alende

Martin Cruz Smith

Erica Jong

Daniel Barenboim

Maurizio Pollini

Linda Evans

Britt Ekland

Carole King

Mitch McConnell

(2) Quip of the day: Someone told me that it was often important to know when to keep quiet, so you won’t say more than you should. She said: “I have a friend who would not utter the word banana, because he was afraid he wouldn’t know when to stop.”

(3) Of course it will never end. Donald Trump (remember him?) broke with tradition when he didn’t release his federal income tax returns, saying that he couldn’t release them while they were under audit, but he’d release them when the audit was completed. Which he never did, saying that the audit just wasn’t finished. So, one more lie to add to the pile. It turns out:

a. His tax returns were never under audit, BUT

b. There is a federal law that requires tax returns to be audited and that, under Donald, that law was simply ignored.

So a double lie, it appears. But now we will get the returns. As Edie says, now “everyone can audit them”, and although they have not been released yet, we are told that in 2020 Trump paid no taxes, and in two of the other years of his presidency, he paid $750 each.

(4) My Tom’s Deodorant stick say that it expires 12-22. What possibly does that mean??

(5) Masks, again. We went to a Hanukkah party last night – 13 people attended. We all agreed to take a Covid test yesterday before the party. Presumably, all were negative. Half of the party was spent sitting around a table eating (and voting on the best latkes and best latke toppings – a contest with prizes thanks to party planner Edie Hessel) and obviously during that time, no one was wearing a mask. The other half of the time was spent sitting around talking – then about half of the guests were wearing their N-95 masks (some people put them on, and took them off, etc.). Does this really make sense? Not even Dr. Fauci or Dr. Wen can answer that, I’d bet.

Always many things to think about, but today it’s all about poor Merrick Garland. I am so glad that I am not him.

The Jan 6 committee has held their final hearing and taken their final vote. Donald Trump is being referred to the Department of Justice with recommendations to consider indicting him on a variety of charges. It is now up to Justice.

Well, what’s an Attorney General expected to do?

If he accepts the recommendation and commences an internal process to determine whether Trump should be indicted for anything, and if Trump is indicted, Garland will be accused of being partisan. If he ignores the recommendation, he will be accused of being cowardly.

If he undertakes a long and detailed investigation into the charges, he will be accused of dragging his feet. If he brings charges quickly, he will be accused of acting precipitously.

If he brings a case against Trump, and Trump is convicted, Garland will be accused of deepening the country’s divisions (depending on what results from a conviction, possibly even accused of creating riots more damaging that that of Jan 6). If he brings a case against Trump and Trump is pronounced not guilty, he will be accused of incompetence.

My mind goes back about 30 years. I was a relatively new and inactive member of our synagogue. The synagogue was undergoing a major renovation. Everyone felt good about it, and confident that the renovation would be a success. Then, as the renovation work neared completion, the synagogue ran out of money.

I was asked by a friend to join a group that was trying to figure out what to do. First, we had to determine what went wrong. It became clear that the primary responsibility lay at the feet of one individual, who was given too much power: power to approve design, power to supervise construction, and power to head the fundraising drive. And that no one was given the responsibility of keeping tabs on how he was performing this overwhelming task. It turned out he was performing it poorly.

I am not going into details. But the question was whether we should attempt to hold this individual, a long time member with a checkered professional reputation, responsible and perhaps even bring litigation against him. Should we engage lawyers to determine if such a case would be fruitful?

After much conversation, our committee decided that, even if such litigation would be successful, it had the potential to tear apart the congregation, and we were better off accepting our mistakes and our losses, and looking for a way to finance the remaining work.

Today, the congregation is thriving and, except for us old, old timers, no congregant even remembers (or ever knew about) this sad moment in the synagogue’s history.

This decision had nothing to do with who was right and who was wrong. It had nothing to do with what could be proven in a court of law. It had to do with the future and not the past. It was the right decision.

It is the type of decision that Merrick Garland could make, and maybe should. But for us, it was easy. Most congregants knew nothing of the facts behind the synagogue’s problems. Not only did most congregants not know who was on our committee (and obviously we did not have final say), but they didn’t even know our committee existed. Garland is not in that situation. For him personally, the decision would be very hard.

That brings in President Biden. In 1974, the new United States president was Gerald Ford. He was never even elected, having been selected by Congress to be vice president after the resignation of Spiro Agnew, and having become president after the resignation of Richard Nixon.

Just as today, the majority of thinking Americans may conclude that Donald Trump committed crimes, so then did the majority of Americans conclude that Richard Nixon had done the same. There was the same pressure and momentum for the Justice Department to go into action.

But Gerald Ford did something – he pardoned Nixon. Was he criticized for this? Absolutely. Was it the right decision? I think it was. It wasn’t based on whether or not Nixon committed crimes, or whether a jury could be convinced that he did. It was a question of trying to heal, rather than further divide, the country. Is it possible that Biden will follow the Ford example? I don’t know. I sure haven’t heard anyone talk about it.

Time will tell.

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Although I have so far made it a point not to name names in this incipient blog, and a final decision is yet to be made, I am going to name a name today. I had lunch with my old friend Mel Gelman, who today is celebrating his 80th birthday. And yes, I told him all he needs to know.

On all other nights, we either light one candle or three or more candles. Why, on that night, do we always light two candles? And why do we light the second one with the first one we lit, rather than using a match for both?

A questions, questions. Life is filled with them.

So, it’s Hanukkah again. The holiday that Rabbi Avis Miller once said was “the most important Jewish Holiday”. (Rabbi Eugene Lipman similarly once talked about Thanksgiving as the holiday more Jews observed in America than any other…..but I digress) Why the most important Jewish holiday? Because, she said, if it weren’t for the Maccabees, Judaism wouldn’t exist. Well, to tell you the truth, I am not so sure. Probably an exaggeration. Judaism is clearly a religion of survival.

The Maccabees revolted because King Antiochus, for reasons apparently unclear, decided that the Jews were going to revolt, and decided to outlaw Jewish practice. A great example of unanticipated consequences – there was no revolt in the planning until Antiochus took this action – then the non-existent revolt he feared actually materialized, and he had the losing hand.

Often, this revolt is viewed primarily as a revolt against Hellenization, but that does not seem to be true, either. Judaism had accommodated itself to being part of the Greek empire, and while some Jews had Hellenized more than others, this does not seem to be the cause of the revolution, and indeed Hellenization did not stop after the Maccabees came out victorious. The Temple was cleaned, but the use of Greek language and practices did continue.

Which, of course, brings me to St. Louis in the 1940s. My family was 98% Jewish. I had one great uncle who married a Catholic woman, and – at that time – that was it. Everyone else was Jewish. We belonged to a Reform congregation, as did most of my family and friends. None of my family, in my memory, would have described themselves as Conservative, and those who were Orthodox were at least two generations older than I was.

We celebrated Hanukkah by lighting candles every night. And, as I remember, my sister and I got a modest present every night – maybe a dollar – something like that.

And then there was Christmas. This was the big day. We did not have a tree, but we did hang up stockings and in the morning the house was filled with Christmas presents wrapped in holiday paper. They were brought to the house by Santa Claus.

Sure, I believed in Santa Claus. And I was very impressed with him that he delivered presents to Jewish houses, even though we didn’t believe in Jesus or Christmas. I thought he went out of his way to make sure that we didn’t feel overlooked.

Our Christmas afternoon was generally spent at my father’s law partner’s house. They were Catholic and had a big tree. I always felt a little uneasy there, like we were trespassing, I think. I knew the day was something different to them than it was to us. I wondered if they really wanted us there. Perhaps we were keeping them from doing what they really wanted to do.

My other memories of the Christmas season? The downtown department stores and their window displays. We used to go down and look at them. And of course, the Christmas carols at school – no Hanukkah songs then. And a general holiday spirit that pervaded everything.

After my sister, younger than me, realized that Santa Claus was a fantasy, our Christmas celebration slowed down. Maybe it stopped. I don’t remember any Christmas gifts as I got older.

Once I left home for college, Christmas day didn’t seem special to me in any way. And I don’t remember paying too much attention to Hanukkah either. At college, as in high school, I had an equal number of Jewish and gentile friends, and religion paid no part in any discussions or activities. I was not involved in any Jewish groups at college – my few visits to Hillel left me uncomfortable – the students who hung out there had backgrounds very different from mine.

Several weeks ago, a topic of discussion on my Thursday morning breakfast Zoom, with about 30 older Jewish guys, the topic of Christmas celebrations in schools came up. Those of us (by far the majority) who went to public schools remember the Christmas celebrations and the question of how we should respond to them. People responded very differently at the time, it appears.

But one thing was obvious. Being surrounded by Christmas, Christmas spirit, Christmas music and even Christmas gifts did nothing to detract from our Jewishness as we grew up, or even then.

I know there are those who hate the Christmas season and feel alien to everything around them. That’s not me, I am happy to say.

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On a very different note, I just finished reading “The Disenchanted” by Budd Schulberg. Never had read anything by him before.

It’s an interesting book to compare with “Tar”, the Cate Blanchett film I discussed yesterday. “Tar”, you recall (ha, ha) is about a world class first female conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic, whose life and career tumbles, largely due to her sexual exploitation antics. “The Disenchanted” is about a writer, not a musician, and a male, not a female. But the story is the same: he wins a Pulitzer Prize at an early age and writes a number of very successful books before his alcoholism and his relationship with the female sex destroys his literary career. He tries to resuscitate it as he gets an opportunity to write a Hollywood screen play, but what begins to fall apart can never be put together again. Although there were parts I didn’t care for, it’s a good, well written novel. Just odd that it comes so close to the film. (“The Disenchanted”, by the way, is actually about F. Scott Fitzgerald, who was a friend of Schulberg’s, and the story in the book is apparently very close to the story of Fitzgerald. As they say: who knew?)

Yesterday, we went to our second movie in two weeks, and our second in two years, all at the same time. Last week, mid-week, we saw The Fabelmans in a virtually empty theater. Yesterday, week-end, we saw Tar in a surprisingly crowded one.

After seeing Tar, I read several reviews. And I have to confess that I don’t understand them. Yes, this is the story of the fall from grace of a world renown orchestral conductor. And, yes, Cate Blanchett does a memorable job in a demanding role. But (and I will try to limit spoilers a bit), what I thought (and I think Edie by and large agrees) is that Tar is a film geared to disbelief and unreality, while the critics all seem to take for granted that Lydia (the Blanchett character) is a realistic persona, and that, except for the fact the film is fiction, Tar could be a biopic. Come on…The writer/director Todd Field has said that he wrote this film for Cate Blanchett and if she said she didn’t want to play Lydia, the film would have been dropped. I believe that, because this was clearly her film. Every other character was relatively minor, and we only know the other characters in relationship to Lydia. I have no problem with that.

But this was no pseudo-biopic. This was a satire.

The film starts with several minutes of credits, one crowded screen after another after another. Now, my eyes (my age aside) are pretty good, but I couldn’t make out the names. They seemed blurry. Then Edie nudged me and said something like “My eyes just aren’t good. I can’t read the names.”

Then, throughout the film, so many of the lines, especially when they were two person conversations, were unintelligible. They were muffled, actors dropping second syllables, and the ends of sentences. And so much whispering. Could anyone hear the whispering? Now my ears may not be as good as my eyes, and often I will miss a line watching something, but it’s usually a question of processing, not of decibel level, I think. I know Tar is available streaming, but still, it appears, for an expensive rental charge. Are all these lines subtitled in the streaming version, or do some of them say “unintelligible” or “indistinct”?

So, now we have blurred credits and muffled dialogue. To me those are signs of purposeful lack of reality. Then there are other clues: like Lydia’s resume, as announced by Adam Gopnik before he interviews her. She has done everything. Gone to and taught classes at every major music conservatory. Conducted every major orchestra (she is currently conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic) in the universe. Written extensively. Won Oscars, Emmys, Tonys, everything. And even spent 5 years deep in the Amazon jungle of Peru living with and studying an imaginary tribe with an extremely long name. Impossible.

And then who is Lydia? Where did she come from? A sophisticated lady, obviously worldly, with an obvious sense of noblesse oblige, but at the same time with a temper ready to lash out at the world. But there is no back story, whatsoever. She just is there. Then – at her nadir – she runs home, a wreck, to her childhood house on Staten Island, and runs into her brother (who looks like a sewer worker from the Jackie Gleason show, and who wants nothing to do with the famous sister he hasn’t seen for decades). Impossible. It is no more possible that Lydia Tar could have grown up in this Staten Island house than it is that I grew up in Buckingham Palace.

And look at the last scene – conducting an orchestra in a country that looks like it must be Thailand (but is not named) when the entire audience is in Monster Hunter costume (who even knows what Monster Hunter is?)? How can anyone think this is serious? Or possible?

Sure, the issues of sexual grooming are important ones. And in pointing out the dangers involved, the film provides a service. Sure, the issues involving kowtowing to celebrities are important, and here the film provides a service.

But it is done in context of a satire which none of the critics seem to acknowledge. Am I (are we?) wrong? One more thing – at the end of the film, the credits are repeated, the letters the same size, but everything readable with no trouble. Nothing blurred now – that’s because the film is over. And it is satire no more.

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Moving for a second to another dream. Last night, I was given a black bag that contained $600,000 cash. I was a government agent, and needed to use this $600,000 as the first payment for something very important to my country. I was given the cash, I was told, because there was no other way to transfer this particular amount of money. And of course I needed to protect this bag. My country was not a rich one.

I was very careful with it. I kept it with me on a train. When my hotel room was not yet available, I kept it with me, though I checked my other luggage.

I knew I had some time before getting into my room. I went out on the street, saw a deli, went in and bought a bagel and lox. It was raining, and I sat outside under an eave. My sister (not my real sister) was there eating lunch with someone, with whom she was talking about the fate of our country. My bagel was good, but then. I talked with them, but then realized that I was not welcome in this conversation.

Then it hit me. Where was the black bag and the $600,000? I no longer had it. It must be in the deli. I ran back to the deli. On the floor in front of the counter – there it was. All is well.

We all know that, right? But sometimes we forget it and need to be reminded. So I refer you to today’s New York Times (Sat, Dec 17, 2022) to help you remember this important truth.

I start in the upper left: the remarkable story of the president of South Africa and the $600,000 he had hidden in his couch, because he thought it safer there than in his safe.

President Ramaphosa has a lot of money (still does, it appears, even after a total of about $4,000,000 was stolen from his game ranch). His net worth is closer to $500,000,000. He started out as a powerful labor leader, but became involved in owning McDonalds in South Africa, as well as owning one of the largest mobile telephone companies in Africa and Asia, a platinum mine and so much more.

But I digress. Where did the $600,000 come from? Apparently the money (in US dollars, by the way) was brought into the country by a businessman from Sudan, who originally said that it had something to do with a birthday present for his wife, and later said he used it to buy buffaloes (or maybe it was cattle) from someone – he didn’t know there was any connection with Ramaphosa. Uh huh. This is still being entangled, but – in any event – it does raise some important questions: why did Ramaphosa, after the burglary, not report it to the police (or to anyone else?) and why hasn’t he paid taxes on the funds?

And what about the Sudanese business man who brought the money into the country? Well, he’s quite a guy, too. The chairman of the board (does that mean major owner?) of Sudan’s oldest soccer (sorry, futball) team, and very close to the former (discredited) Sudanese president Omar Al-Bashir, he doesn’t seem to lack for funds. And he is smart enough not to live in Sudan any more, but now lives in – of course – Dubai, where apparently his lifestyle is beyond lush (he is married to a South African woman whose name – Bianca O’Donoghue – and blond hair make her seem an unlikely wife for Sudanese Hazim Mustafa Mohamed Ibrahim – but again I digress. And I leave these two love birds to each other).

At any rate, Ibrahim and Ramaphosa share one trait – fabulous wealth. And money makes the world go round. (One last thing – if you are wondering where Ramaphosa has his game farm, it’s in Phala Phala – which is near Bella Bella, but far from Walla Walla)

I move to the next column. Well, it’s about Elon Musk, who is teetering, perhaps, but still worth about $165,000,000,000 according to Forbes, and is the world’s second richest man as of today. We don’t have to discuss Musk; we all already know too much about him. And will be finding out more. And we all realize that he certainly believes – quite correctly, it appears – that money makes the world go round.

But, to disgress a minute, lest us not forget one thing: a billion dollars equals one million million dollars, so to get $165,000,000,000, take 1 million and multiply it by 165 million. You get the idea?

Musk takes up three columns. The fourth column is about the World Cup. Well, OK, this column is not about the influence of money on the World Cup, but the influence of the World Cup on diplomacy in general. But remember, the recent articles, have been about hidden payments made to EU officials by folks from Qatar – the home of the World Cup this year. and even this article does give some hints at World Cup economics. Did you know that British footballer David Beckham was paid to tout the World Cup this year? Apparently so – to the tune of $12,000,000. (Kinda reminds me of Brett Favre scooping up money from the poor people of Jackson MS.) And as to Beckham, whom did he watch the England-Wales game with? Rep. Ilhan Omar. Fascinating, to be sure.

Below the fold, there’s an article on Ticketmaster. It does talk about the Taylor Swift fiasco, where their computers crashed when too many people wanted to see her (I have never even heard her, but at least I have heard of her), and tickets were being scalped at “markups of tens of thousands of dollars”. Apparently, Ticketmaster now has had a second problem, concerning a Mexico City concert of Bad Bunny (“one of the world’s hottest pop stars”, they say), where people paid close to $1,000 for tickets that the box office scanners falsely said were counterfeit.

Now, you don’t have to be as rich as Musk, or even as rich as Ramaphosa or Ibrahim, to pay $10,000 or $1,000 for a ticket, but – gee – the facts that concerts with tickets going for prices like this sell out does tell you something about how much money is floating around somewhere, no?

Finally, the front page has the required story about the FTX scandal, and its founder Sam Bankman-Fried, who apparently has seen his net wroth plummet to zero from $26,500,000,000 overnight. But this article concentrates not on B-F, but on Ryan Salame (the “e” is silent in Salame), another kid-executive of FTX, whose net worth has also disappeared apparently. A lot has been written about the political contributions of Bankman-Fried to Democrats – this article talks about the mega-contributions Salame has made to Republicans. I must admit to being bored with the executives of FTX – so I just ran through this article. Too quickly.

Yes, there is one more first page story – Russia destroying Ukraine. But that article is too hard to read. I’ll stick to following the money.

(Are my facts here all correct? I strive for 80% accuracy.)

People my age tell me about all their visits to their many doctors. I have been very lucky. My doctors visits have been no more numerous than when I was in my 30s. I understand that will probably change, but it hasn’t yet.

Yesterday, I had my annual ophthalmology appointment, and today my annual dermatology appointment. And a good time was had by all.

A little more than a year ago, my eye doctor merged his practice into a larger practice and moved his office from 5530 Wisconsin Ave to 5454 Wisconsin Ave. Not a big move, you say, but if you ever had to park in the garage at 5454, you’d not say that.

One thing about his new practice: I received 7 telephone and email reminders of my appointment. Then I received a “save time during your appointment” email with a 9 page questionnaire to fill out. I filled it out and know one thing for sure. None of the questions had anything to do with my eyes or my appointment. I assume all of this personal data is residing somewhere in Beijing. I asked my doctor why I had to answer questions on line, then when I got to the office, then when I talked to his assistant and then when I talked to him. He shrugged – “I guess they are all different questions…..and essential.”

My doctor’s assistant, Jackie, started my examination by asking me more questions. I first noted that I had floaters in 1972 (I remember the time precisely) and they haven’t changed since then. So, 50 years of telling eye doctors I have floaters. But Jackie wasn’t satisfied and wanted me to describe them. Never having taken a creative writing class, I admit to being at a loss for words. She asked me if they were circles, or strings, or a bunch of other things. My answer was always “no”. She then asked me: well, are they cow webs? I told her I didn’t even know what a cow web was. Her response: then they probably don’t look like them.

I later asked my doctor what a cow web was. He said “you mean cobweb?” I told him that I knew he wasn’t my ear doctor (I don’t have one), but I was sure she said “cow web”.

I always have a great time talking to my eye doctor. He complains about modern medicine and his own health problems and I listen and tell him jokes. My next appointment is December 19, 2023 (optimistic huh?), but maybe I’ll make a six month appointment just to talk.

Today, I had an appointment with my dermatologist. She with her magic CO2 machine with which Medicare will let her zap up to 14 harmless but unappealing things off my skin. She had a new assistant with her today. I was intrigued because she looked like she could be Brittney Griner’s twin sister. Except she wasn’t 6 foot 9. She was only about 6 foot 3.

My next appointment there? December 12, 2023.

December 2023 is filling up. If you want to make an appointment with me then, better sign up now.

I was really looking forward to last night’s presentation by Prof. Adam Mendelsohn on his new book: “Jewish Soldiers in the Civil War: the Union Army”. He was speaking in conversation with Prof. Pam Nadell of American University, and there was to be separate remarks by Adrienne de Armas of the Shapell Manuscript Foundation. My job was to introduce the program.

Before I tell you what went wrong, here’s the funny story of the day:

Prof. Mendelsohn is a native of South Africa and a graduate of the University of Cape Town with a PhD from Brandeis. His specialty is American Jewish History, although this seems weird for a South African who now is a Professor back in Cape Town, but he has written before on the Civil War, and has now finished his first book on Jewish military participation in that conflict. His second book is in writing; it will focus on the Confederates.

After his presentation, I asked him (seriously) if he was ever going to write a history of Jews in the Boer War (I assumed there were Jews on the British, but not the Boer side, but didn’t know). He looked at me and said: “You’re probably joking, but in fact, my father was a historian, and he already wrote that book”. Certainly not the answer I suspected.

OK, now for the problems. We were at B’nai Israel, a conservative congregation in Rockville MD. The program took place in the main sanctuary, a very attractive room and the room where the synagogue could live stream the event. We had about 40 people present, but over 500 had registered to view it remotely. We also had two cameras there from C-Span to record the event.

The program was cosponsored by the Haberman Institute for Jewish Studies (that’s my connection), the Southern Jewish Historical Society and the Shapell Manuscript Foundation (home of the newly digitized and publicly viewable list of Jewish participants in the Civil War). The outline of the program was that, first, I would introduce Ms. De Armas, who would talk for ten minutes or so about Shapell, and then I would introduce Profs. Mendelsohn and Nadell.

My remarks were carefully written out (after all, this was my C-Span debut), but there was only a bare microphone for me to speak from – nothing to put my notes on. This was remedied with a quick visit to another room, where we found a music stand that we carried in.

The second problem was that, for whatever reason, Ms. De Armas decided she wasn’t going to come in person, but that she would speak virtually, on a screen from afar. I didn’t know this was going to happen until I go there, so I had to change my remarks a bit (not a problem), introduce her, and walk away while the techies brought her in on a screen (not a mammoth screen) and streamed her to the on-line crowd. Well, we could see her and her slides (which were much too detailed to be useful at least to the live audience), but her audio was completely muffled so people could only hear a part of what she said, which means that nothing she said made much sense. I was expecting that someone would decide to cut her off (the plan was to cut her off if there was a problem, and that I would go back up and ad lib until the problem was fixed), but this did not happen. She just went on as if there were no problem.

When she was over, I went back up to introduce the other speakers. That went fine, but when the conversation between the two of them started, I saw that Prof Mendelsohn, with a heavy South African accent, spoke very fast and used his hands enough that his voice moved to and from his hand held mic, making it difficult to hear everything he was saying. How it came across on-line, I don’t know.

At any rate, the program, about which I had such high hopes, fizzled, I thought. Too bad.

New furnace update? It’s too cold upstairs, and the clock on the thermostat was off by ten minutes this morning. We are awaiting a service call. But…..on a cold day…..ugh.

Yesterday, we got ourselves a new furnace. So far, so good. We will see – I always expect something new might have a defect. For example, we bought a new thermostat to go with our new furnace. But our furnace installers told us that our new thermostat (the one their firm had suggested) wasn’t working properly and we should return it. They gave us another model which they said was just as good. OK, fine with me, I guess. We had bought the first one on Amazon, and returns are easy.

But, always a glitch. The thermostat has lithium batteries and Amazon gave us a couple of things to put on the outside of the return container with “Hazard!” markings. OK, not a problem. But then I saw in the small print that if the lithium batteries are damaged, I shouldn’t return it, but instead call Customer Service. That’s what I will do today, because I don’t have any idea why the thermostat didn’t work.

But you remember (ha ha) that I said that I hadn’t started falling apart at 80 yet, but our house had at 40. Our next problem is our dishwasher. When you start it, a sign lights up that says, in effect, “Drain me!”. “Big deal”, you say, “that sounds easy”. Except that the manual instructions make it look just about as easy as building a nuclear bomb, and the YouTube video on how to drain a Miele dishwasher is over ten minutes long. Sometime today or tomorrow, I will do it. I’ll put on a wet suit and dive right in.

“White Lotus” – what’ so great about it? We dutifully watched the first year, and have started the second year. Except for the extraordinary beauty of Sicily, I can’t find anything to recommend it. (You don’t have to respond – I know you love it) I was hoping that the presence of F. Murray Abraham, who is 83, would mean that the second year of the show would have some relevance to an 80 year old. But no. I liked Abraham better when he was the evil string puller Dar Adal in Homeland, to tell the truth.

But I’ve been watching another short series, with the odd title “Man on Pause”, from Turkey, which I have been enjoying. I must say that Edie finds it worthless. I agree with her wholeheartedly, but its worthlessness doesn’t seem to bother me. And some of the scenery of the southwest Turkey does rival Sicily, for sure.

Finally, during our deep freeze, we actually went to see an afternoon film – “The Fabelmans”. What did you think? I thought that Gabriel LaBelle was a great Sammy, and Michelle Williams a great Mrs. Fabelman (although I couldn’t stand the character). I found it interesting as a biopic, but a little too long and draggy at times. I loved the train wreck, and learned a little about how to make a movie 50 or so years ago.

OK, that’s all for today. Busy day ahead. A fair amount of phone and email work for the Funeral Practices Committee and the Haberman Institute. Lunch at a too-expensive restaurants with some folks who have become Zoom friends, but I have never met in person. And this evening introducing Prof. Adam Mendelsohn of the University of Capetown (of all places) talking about Jewish participation in the American Civil War (of all things) at B’nai Israel in Rockville (also streaming and being filmed by C-Span) for Haberman.

But first…….I digress. Walt Kelly coined this, and I will always remember him for it. Such a useful phrase. But I have to admit something. True confession. When I was growing up, Pogo was one of the comics in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that appeared at the top of the page every day. And every day I’d read it, and I never understood one word of it. I had no idea what was going on. Not blaming Walt Kelly. Just a fact.

I digress again. While I am writing this, I am waiting for our new furnace to be delivered. The installers are already here. They are waiting, too. Our furnace went out Wednesday night. So we have had no heat since then. That’s Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and today. Luckily, I don’t think we ever went below freezing, but unluckily, the highs the last several days have been in the low 40s. But I am in my home office, which has its own furnace, so there has been one room in the house where we could be comfortable. But after 6 days, this is getting old.

Would you mind a digression? Last night – although the down blanket does cut the atmospheric cold – I had a terrible time sleeping. It might have been the cumulative cold, or it might have been the four full garlic cloves I had at dinner, or maybe the double espresso that I had after dinner. Hard to say.

My fourth digression goes to the dinner itself. Of course, we have gone out to eat every night starting Friday night. Last night we went with very good friends to I’m Eddie Cano, our neighborhood Italian restaurant. (Sorry, I must digress: “I’m Eddie Cano”. What kind of a name is that. First I need to tell you that the “a” is pronounced as in “ah”. Then, if you say the name quickly, it’s supposed to (I think it does) sound like “Americano” with an Italian accent. Try it.)

I had a perfect dinner. I started by surprising myself and saying to the server: “I’ll take a Gray Goose martini, straight up, with a couple of olives”. When was the last time I asked for that? I think it was never. But I must say this: it was the best drink I ever had and I am going to order one every chance I get. Can’t wait for lunch in a few hours.

But I digress. For my main course, I ordered cacciucco. Google it. It was perfectly put together, but it included the four garlic cloves, cooked and softened. Garlic cloves often make it had for me to sleep and I usually avoid eating them, but they went so well with my martini.

Then, after dinner, I ordered “an espresso — no, on second thought, a double espresso”. Again the Gray Goose martini straight up speaking?

Mini-digression here: everyone liked their meal, but no one had a martini and a double espresso. Edie had eggplant parmigiana, and our friends had a vegetarian ravioli, and lobster meat with black ink squid spaghetti.

Well, I guess we haven’t got to the Civil War yet. It’s because of my digressions. I am going to take a couple of Alka-seltzer and see what happens. Supposed to be good for your digression.

Civil war tomorrow.

I think we all dream, and remember little of what we dream after we wake up. But sometimes your dreams stay with you. Last night was one of those times.

I had to make a business trip to Denver. I was at the airport. I was traveling by myself and met a young African American man. We spoke and decided that I would save him a seat on the plane. I found a two-seat row that was empty and sat down. A few people tried to sit next to me but I said I was waiting for a friend. One woman paid no attention to me. She had an interesting face. She looked like she was South Asian, but she had a chin that projected forward further than anybody I have seen in real life. She ignored me when I told her that I was saving the seat. She told me her name (which I don’t remember) and that she worked for the U.S. government, at some security related agency. She spoke with an accent. She asked me a lot of questions. My friend never showed up, so she remained. I had a feeling that she knew the man behind me.

She told me that she was going to Chicago. I was surprised and told her the plane was going to Denver. She told me I was wrong. I looked at my ticket and saw that I had to change planes in Chicago. I decided that everyone else on the plane must be going to Chicago.

The stewardess asked us to pull down the shades. Everyone did, and she told us about our upcoming flight (to Chicago). It was a long speech and I realized that I didn’t remember leaving the ground. I peeked out the window and saw we were just pulling out of the gate.

We started slowly. We lifted off the ground, but only about 20 feet or so. We were flying at this level through town, our wings barely missing trees and buildings. Eventually, we rose up.

Before I knew it, we were coming back down. The stewardess said we had some mechanical problems that had to be addressed. We all got out. I was told we were in Marietta GA. I wandered through a shopping area waiting for the plane to be repaired. I was with others. We heard (how I don’t know) that they were bringing in a tow boat to tow us and that we’d have to wait for another plane. We walked down a street and saw a rusty tow boat heading where we thought the plane must be.

END OF ACT ONE

I am in an office conference room with three other men. We are all wearing dark blue suits, white shirts and ties. I tell them the story that I just wrote in Act One. Except it isn’t Denver I was going to, it was London. And although I never got there for obvious reasons, at the same time, I remember the week I spent there. I didn’t tell the other men about what I did in London because I knew it made no sense, as I was stuck in Marietta GA.

It was lunch time, and we left the building and went out onto a major street. The neighborhood looked a bit downtrodden. One of the men told us he knew a place, that we should turn to the left. We did, but there didn’t seem to be anyplace to eat. We passed an Indian restaurant which would have been fine with me, but it didn’t look completely reputable.

My companion said we should have turned right, not left, so we reversed course, and we wound up in a more upscale commercial area. We got to the restaurant he was talking about. It was a fast food chicken place, with only outside picnic table like seating. He said he knew it was good because he owned the building it was in and he owned the restaurant.

The large scale menu was on the side of the building. The only word you could see from a distance was “SAMPLE”, which topped four separate columns. It seemed that each of these SAMPLEs headed a column that gave you a choice of the type of chicken to order. But to decide what to order, you had to read the fine print, which looked like the scrawl a homeless man would write on a piece of cardboard – no punctuation, no margins, etc. And each ingredient seemed to be identified by a letter. So under a SAMPLE, it would say (B) (G) (H) (O) (N) (U) to explain the ingredients. In addition, there were thousands of post-its one the menu wall, in all colors, and you had no idea what was one them or if they were also related to ingredients of each type of chicken.

I told my companion the owner that it was impossible to read this confusing menu. He looked surprised at me and said “I never thought of that. You might be right”.

I woke up.

END OF PLAY

So that’s the dream I remember is pretty extensive detail. What interests me about this is that this memorable dream was so uninteresting and unimportant.

Time for a nap.

And not a drop to drink?

Is this where we are heading? I see so much being written about climate change, which is obviously a big problem, but comparatively little about water change. Of course, climate and water are closely related, but it seems to me that our water problems might be our biggest ones.

I am obviously not an expert here, but there are some things that I think about:

1. Rising seas, largely as a result of melting ice caps and glaciers, threaten not only coast lines, but larger swaths of land and even the existence of some islands. We read about the potential of rising seas on islands particularly on the Atlantic Coast, and only coastal cities, such as Charleston SC and Miami. They seem inevitable. Houses are even now crashing into the sea on the western coast of Nantucket Island, and every coastal storm causes a rise in sea levels that is a bigger threat than the wind to coastal buildings.
2. We hear about some independent nations in the Pacific and Indian oceans, such as Vanatu, Kiribat, Tuvalu and the Maldives, being under threats to their very existence by rising seas.
3. We see that every year, at least 25% of the comparatively large nation of Bangladesh is flooded, and that the flooded area will be undoubtedly increasing in the size in future years.
4. We read about glaciers melting in Greenland and Antarctica, among other places, with the potential result being a significant rise in sea levels word wide.
5. At the same time, we see interior glaciers melting in various parts of the world, causing immediate extensive floods, but portending the possibility of insufficient melting and consequently insufficient water flow in the future.
6. We read of increasing desertification in various parts of the world, perhaps the rest in parts of Africa, which will lead to large areas becoming uninhabitable and to mass out migration.
7. We read about rivers which are flowing at record lows, especially lately the mighty Mississippi, and certainly the Colorado in the western U.S., and we see the dangerously low levels of western lakes, such as Lake Mead, near Las Vegas, and Shasta Lake in California.
8. We see that areas in this country, which are at peril for water shortage, such as Nevada and Arizona, continuing to grow in population.
9. And of course we see continuing droughts, often with no signs of near time reversal.

Clearly, there are people who are worried about this in all places where water shortages. But it is difficult (a) to come up with solutions on which a sufficient number of people would agree, (b) come up with solutions that necessary organizations, corporations and governments would be willing to implement, and (c) come up with solutions that are affordable and do not have untold unexpected consequences.

Most countries are currently failing at these. One country which has been able to meet the challenge so far is Israel. In Israel, all water is the property of the government, irrespective of its source, and its distribution is controlled by the government, but it is kept completely out of politics. It is viewed as a natural resource. Israel reuses almost all of its water, not only water available from storm drainage, but also water from sewage. It is all purified and reused for various specific purposes – sewage water may, for example, be used for irrigation but not for drinking water. In addition, Israel has agreements with some of its neighbors, particularly Jordan, to share water resources, some of which is found in aquifers which are shared by the two countries. And, Israel has a very sophisticated desalination process, converting sea water to usable water. And it is reversing desertification. All of this is discussed in fascinating detail in Seth Siegel’s book “Let There Be Water”, which I highly recommend.

Yes, Israel is ahead of most of the rest of the world. Whether it will stay that way, we will see. And the entire world has a massive challenge. And I, for one, am not at all certain that it can meet it. It requires cooperation, reliable scientific knowledge, financial solutions, and common sense. Do we have any of that now?

With all the questions affecting the state of the world, the most important, and least understood, may be “Should I put a mask on?” Our brains tell us ‘yes’, while our experience tells us ‘probably not necessary’ and our sense of adventure and our unsubstantiated belief in fate says ‘no’.

This morning, we went to Shabbat services at Adas Israel. It was well attended, probably 150-200 people in the main service. I would say that 40% were masked, 40% were not, and 20% couldn’t make up their minds, so they were sometimes masked and sometimes unmasked, or maybe masked over their mouth, but not over their nose. The synagogue itself now has no rules to my knowledge.

As we sat through the service, Edie and most of the people near us, were masked; I was not. You can’t go wrong by being masked – that is obvious. But not being masked is, for me, so much more comfortable. For those who aren’t familiar with Adas Israel, it is very large, seating more than 1000 (I think), and we sat in an area where there were relatively few people near us, virtually all of whom, as it turned out, were masked. The sanctuary also has a very high ceiling, reaching up into the heavens, and very good airflow. Also, no one near us (or anywhere else, as far as I can tell) were coughing or showing other worrisome symptoms.

From the sanctuary, when the service ended, you go out into a crowded hallway, and from there down the stairs to the large room where there is a buffet kiddish lunch. This room gets quite crowded, there are several buffet tables for food (with people on both sides of the table putting food on their plates) and enough seating for fewer than half the attendees. Because the kiddish is everyone’s lunch, virtually no one is masked. And because it is a place for social interaction, people are talking to each other (sometimes while eating), circulating around and bumping into each other. I probably had six different conversations of some length in the course of the hour or so I spent at the kiddish.

Following the kiddish, there was a 1 p.m. presentation, organized by the Adas Social Action Committee, concerning the plight of the Uyghur population of western China. There were only about 30 people there. Again, some masked and some not. Again, you could spread out.

No moral here. Just the facts, ma’am, just the facts.

So, Kyrsten Sinema, Senator from the great state of Arizona (as they say), has decided to leave the Democratic Party and register as an Independent. She has also said that she will not become a Republican, that her views and voting patterns will not change, and that she expects to retain her committee assignments in the new Congress. A representative of the Democratic Party has said that they expect Sinema will continue to “cooperate” with the party and retain her positions. Sinema has not said that she will “caucus” with the party.

So what does this mean? Why did she do it if it isn’t going to change anything? And why did she wait until right after the results of the Georgia run-off became known to make this announcement?

Of course, changing parties is not unique to Sinema. I remember when Strom Thurmond, Democratic Senator from South Carolina, became Strom Thurmond, Republican Senator from South Carolina. I remember when my classmate Joe Lieberman, Democratic Senator from Connecticut, became Joe Lieberman, Independent Senator from Connecticut. And I vaguely remember when Arlen Specter, Republican Senator from Pennsylvania, left the Republican party.

It is also true that being an Independent Senator will not be unique to Sinema. There are two other Independents now in the Senate. Bernie Sanders of Vermont is (and I think always has been) an Independent who not only caucuses with the Democrats, but was a participant in the race for the Democratic nomination for the Presidency. Angus King of Maine has served as an Independent senator since his first run for the Senate and was an Independent governor of Maine before that. He has registered as an Independent for more than 30 years. He also caucuses with the Democrats.

But the dynamics of the incoming Senate are fraught. With the victory of Warnock in Georgia, the Democrats and those caucusing with them have 51 votes. With 51 votes, the Democrats control all Senate committees and have a one vote cushion on important legislation that requires 51 votes (like certain budget and budget reconciliation measures, and judicial and executive nominees). If the Senate was split 50-50 on the other hand, all Senate committees are 50-50 (which can stall judicial nominees in committee, for example), and legislation to be passed on a partisan basis requires the vote of the Vice President as a tie-breaker. And, if the Senate is 50-50, the loss of one member (death or party change) can totally reverse things, and although the oldest Senate members are Republicans, I think, death or disability can come to anyone, and we know that not only Sinema, but Joe Manchin, Democrat of West Virginia, have had trouble agreeing with the remainder of the party on certain important issues. A loss of both Manchin and Sinema could certainly change everything.

But there’s a reason for Sinema to stick with the Democrats, even as an Independent. Mainly, for committee assignments, which must be important to her constituents in Arizona. But why, unlike King and Sanders, has she not said she would caucus with the Dems?

And what good does it do Sinema to become an Independent? I assume it means she will give up any monetary and other assistance she would otherwise get from the Democratic Party in her next election in 2024. It may also mean that she will have a Democratic opponent in the next Senate race, and that her Independent status may split the otherwise Democratic vote in the state and give the Senate seat to a Republican. But she might also feel that it helps her politically in her state, making Independents (and Arizona apparently has many registered Independents) more likely to vote for her if indeed the next Arizona Senate election is a two person election.

But it may decrease her ability to move up the committee ranks in a Senate under Democratic control. It will mean that she will be under relentless pressure from the Republican party for her to go all the way and join them – they could offer her some potentially power positions, more than she would otherwise get. There may be some back-office conversations that we know nothing about.

But I have another question. Sinema was elected to her current term as a Democrat, with Democratic party support and money. Isn’t there such a thing as loyalty to them that brought ya? And to them that voted ya in? I can understand changing party affiliation at the end of your term when you are running for reelection. But to simply change in the middle of your term of office? When you haven’t been kicked out, or discriminated against, by the party you are deserting? I find that morally and ethically questionable.

No, that’s not exactly right. I find it morally and ethically offensive.

I thought that when I turned 80, I might just fall apart. But I am happy to report that, almost 10 days into my 9th decade, I am still here in one piece. So far, my worries were unnecessary.

But what I didn’t expect to happen is that, once I turned 80, our 40 year old house would start to fall apart. But that appears to be what is happening.

Now we are not a family that panics at every sign of deterioration. We do tend to let things go and build up. And probably, we have waited a little too long on some things.

But here we are. We now have a contract with an exterminator, which hopefully will tell our neighborhood ant population to visit someone else’s kitchen, and to scare away what we fear is a mouse or two who seem to make an appearance now and then.

We lost our heat Tuesday night, and I am sitting here mulling over what an HVAC tech is looking at our furnace. We had another firm here yesterday, who told us that we needed an expensive part that wouldn’t get here for up to 5 days. I thought we should get a second opinion. Our second opinion is that we would be wasting money getting an expensive part for an 18 year old furnace, and that we should get a new furnace, as ours was really nearing the end of its useful life and not operating efficiently. Unfortunately, this is probably the thing to do.

We had our gutters cleaned out last week, and were told that we really should replace our gutters because they don’t drain well. They’d be happy to do it for only $4,000. I think we will pass on that one.

We have become the favorite hangout of a number of red-bellied woodpeckers, which like pecking almost perfectly round holes in the fascia of our house. I bought woodpecker repellent reflectors – but we haven’t put them up yet. I guess that is important if we expect them to work.

We have signed a contract with a company to repaint a bathroom shower wall, where we have chronic drips and probably need a different solution altogether. We are going to get our front picket fence painted, as well as the fascia on the outside (which also needs repair in a place or two), get our outside doors painted, as well as a number of other things.

We had our landscaper prepare our lawn for the winter, with trimming, mulching, etc.

You know the old song: That’s where my money goes, to buy my baby clothes? Not this year.

Thou, too, sail on, O ship of state, Sail on O union, strong and great; Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

I hope you get to see Raphael Warnock’s victory speech last night. He is quite the preacher/speaker. Talked of his mother in Waycross, picking other people’s cotton and gathering other people’s tobacco. His father in Savannah, fixing cars during the week and fixing souls on Sunday morning. He is, he said, Georgia, “I am an example and an iteration of its history, of its peril and promise, of the brutality and the possibilities.” And “…. a vote is a kind of a prayer for the world we desire for ourselves and for our children.”

There is a lot of writing this morning about the takeaways from this run off election. I have some thoughts which I haven’t yet seen expressed elsewhere.

1. Turnout was strong – both early and day-of voting. This in spite of changes in the voting laws of the state which tend to discourage voting by some. This is a product of good organization, and a compelling cause.
2. I doubt that there were very many who voted for Walker in the general election and who voted for Warnock this time around, and I’d bet you a dollar there no one who voted for Warnock in November voted for Walker in December. But Warnock’s lead almost tripled yesterday from his lead in November. Where did that come from?
3. To some extent, Warnock’s lead may have come from an increase in the turn out. But equally, or more, importantly, it came from the Libertarian vote. Chase Oliver, the Libertarian candidate in November (who was not involved in yesterday’s run off) received 81,365 votes, or just over 2% of the votes cast in the election. In the run off it appears that very few of those Libertarian voters cast their votes for Herschel Walker and, to the extent that they did vote this time, that they voted for Warnock. I say this because I watched the county by county vote results last night as reported by Steve Kornacki on the MSNBC Big Board, and in those counties which had a November Libertarian vote, the difference in the Warnock vote in the two elections seemed to mirror the November Libertarian votes in those counties.

As Edie and I were watching MSNBC last night (watching, not listening most of the time), we wondered what would have happened if the Republicans had run a more qualified candidate. The knee jerk response is to say that, in Georgia, they probably would have beat Warnock. It is of course true that they might have, but I don’t think that it is clear that they may have. Would the black vote that turned out so strongly for Warnock have voted Republican? Probably not to any great extent. And if about 70% of white voters did in fact vote for Walker (as the recent CNN poll suggested that they were going to), how many more would there be to cast a vote for a different candidate? I have not seen any reporting about a significant number of Republicans staying home and not voting because the candidate was Walker. The Georgia Lieutenant Governor said that he did that, but I haven’t heard that from or about anyone else.

And, after all, who would that other candidate have been? Herschel Walker was the Republican candidate for Senator because he won the nomination in the May Republican primary. The Republicans had six candidates on the Senate ballot in May, one being Herschel Walker. Walker won – and he didn’t squeak through with 20% of the ballots, edging out an opponent or two. Herschel Walker got 68.2% of the vote, with the second place candidate receiving only 13.4%. Herschel Walker was the Republican candidate of choice, not of default or quirk. We know he was endorsed strongly by Donald Trump. But he was also endorsed by Mitch McConnell, Marjorie Taylor Greene (is she still Greene?), Newt Gingrich, Sean Hannity and Franklin Graham. And again, 70% of likely white voters in the State told CNN that he would get their vote.

So, yes, 1.7 million Georgians voted for Herschel Walker. They were almost all Republicans, and they were almost all of the Republicans in the State.

What does that tell us about the ship of state?

First, why is it important that Warnock beats Walker today in the Georgia Senate runoff?

1. Warnock is bright; Walker is a dunce.
2. Warnock will vote with the Democrats; Walker won’t.
3. With Warnock, the Dems will have a big enough majority that they will control committee agendas; if Walker wins, it will be 50-50.
4. With Warnock, the Dems will still have control of the Senate if a Democratic Senator dies; with Walker, they will lose control if a Democratic Senator dies.
5. In 2024, it will be harder for the Democrats to keep Senate control. They will be facing uphill battles in Ohio, Montana and West Virginia, Republican states currently with a Democratic Senator.

Second, I finished another book. It’s called “Decline and Fall” and it was written in 1928 by Evelyn Waugh (the Brideshead guy). It is a quick read, and very clever and funny. It’s the third Waugh book I have read this year, and the one I liked best. It also appears to be one of Waugh’s favorite Waugh book, and that must say something. A young man is kicked out of university for immoral conduct (not his fault) and winds up teaching in an out of the way, fourth class (if that) boarding school in Wales. His fellow teachers are a kick, and the school boys a pain. Virtually everyone winds up in prison, and a few die. What could be funnier? Take my word for it; it is very funny. And I saw that there’s a three part BBC version of it, shot in 2017. I think it’s on Amazon Prime – if so, we will give it a try.

Third, I made reservations for our upcoming extended family Portugal trip next summer. In my mind, you could still go to Europe round trip on 60,000 miles – for the two of us, Edie and me, now we will be spending 185,000, and still have to pay a few hundred dollars on top of that. The world changed when I wasn’t looking.

Finally, our neighborhood carry-out, The Little Red Fox, is closing due to family health reasons. A lot of people crying about this. I am sorry about the health problems, of course, but won’t miss the Fox. I never liked their coffee, their breakfast pastry selection was limited and rarely included anything I wanted, same with their sandwich selection. Everything else was overpriced, their ice cream was mediocre, they took out all indoor seating when Covid hit and never replaced it. There is better coffee right across the street at the Italian Cafe, where you can also get buttery croissants and (I am told) excellent gelato, and the selection of pastries and lunch items is better next door at the basement cafe of Politics and Prose. There is also excellent food on the block at Buck’s, Muchas Gracias, I’m Eddie Cano and Rosemary’s. Not bad for one city block, about .3 miles from our house. And – as I understand it – the Fox space is already spoken for.

Over and out.

It is now a little after 11 a.m., Monday morning. I have arisen, done my daily ablutions,made the bed, posted two things on Face Book, taken out the trash, brought in the newspapers, had a bowl of cereal, read the New York Times, done the Sunday L.A. Times crossword, emptied the dishwasher, brought the clean clothes from the basement to the second floor, answered a couple of emails, updated my book inventory, and put some dirty clothes in a bag to take to the laundry. Putting it on paper makes it look like I was pretty busy and that I am clearly very accomplished. But – in real life – where did the morning go? Why did I get so little accomplished?

Take yesterday, for example, as a contrast. Yesterday, by 11 a.m., I had read four complete books. That’s more like it right? Oh, the names of the books (all highly recommended)? (1) The Cat in the Hat, (2) Green Eggs and Ham, (3) One was Johnny, and (4) Hop on Pop. And I read them all in the original English.

I can’t help thinking about Trump’s remarks about suspending the constitution and all laws and regulations so that he can be reinstated as president. It doesn’t surprise me that he said that; nothing he says could possibly surprise me. But, I ask you, what constitutes treason? If a former president saying “get rid of the laws and the constitution and make me your president” isn’t treasonous, what is? And at what point should every Republican politician in the country condemn a former president who says things like that? Haven’t we reached that point? But almost none of them do.

Similarly, how can 70% of white Georgia vote for Herschel Walker for the Senate? That’s what the latest poll I saw showed would happen.

To Hamlet, something was rotten in Denmark. To those of us with any sense, something is rotten in the United States of America. And it seems clear that this rot is being created and abetted by the GOP. How can this be? What the hell has happened?

I’m just an ordinary guy. I said what I think is obvious, but enough of that. Now, I’ll just get back to my regular activities. I’m sure someone else will worry about the state of the planet and the human species. I have to go figure out lunch.

Who said that? Mark Twain? I think so.

I thought of this quote when reading an article this morning about the effect of the recent election on school boards in Florida, many of which are veering sharply to the right.

I have said before that I am agnostic on the issue of school curricula. I believe that those in the vocal right are by and large too radicalized in their views, and that some of those on the academic left also have ideas that are too extreme. Like many others, I see the difficulty in resolving some of the issues, and think that politics and religion are playing much too influential roles.

But what got me thinking was a conversation last Thursday in my old Jewish men’s breakfast group. The conversation centered on Christian religious observance in (largely) public schools. Participation in Christmas pageants, singing carols, reciting the Lord’s Prayer, mandatory chapel and so forth.

Virtually everyone in the group condemned this, especially in public schools. Almost everyone had experienced this in their schooling. And – clearly, at least to me – it made no difference in their lives. None of these men became Christian, and none of them continued any of these practices in their later lives, which were spent as Jews, and typically as very active Jewish participants in Jewish life.

So, as we debate all of these issues as to appropriate school curricula, can it be that the biggest impact is not on the children, irrespective of how these matters are concluded in their particular districts, but on the participants in the debate, who are either enlightened as to the issues being debated generally, or who are simply more entrenched in their ways.

As to the students, it may not make any difference to most what books are assigned to their classes or sitting on library shelves. The difference may simply be in their recognizing the hate on both sides, an observation which may close their minds at an early age, and make it harder for them to navigate the world in later years.

But I also recognize that, in saying this, I am not offering anyone a suggestion on how to move from where we are today. Someone clearly has to set school curricula, or determine not to have a set curriculum. And, especially with limited funds and shelf space, someone must decide what books to buy, and what books, from time to time, to remove from the shelves.

The issues of sexual orientation and gender identification are also complex. When I was young, I didn’t know that there was such as thing as being “gay”, and I certainly didn’t know that were people whose gender was fluid or misplaced. But I assume the number of people under these categories hasn’t changed all that much, and that such feelings were simply repressed. And that the repression did no good, and possible harm.

Today, all children seem to know about these things. Is that better or worse? I would guess it is better, even though ignorance is sometimes bliss, but again I have to claim being agnostic on the topic. But my agnosticism does not exist in a vacuum and the gender identification cat is out of the gender identification bag, and society must deal with it, and not try to stuff it back in. Again, politics and religion clearly get in the way, and they need – somehow – to be removed. But how?

Finally, the question of athletic participation, and the further question regarding the use of restrooms, are even more complicated, perhaps. As to the second, single person restrooms can help, when they can be made available as an option for every student. As to who can try out for a team? I really don’t even know how to approach that one.

So, are all of these problems universal? Does every country deal with them? What happens in the most liberal of other countries – in Canada, say, or European countries. How do they handle these problems? Do we have something to learn from them? These can’t just be American problems, can they?

It is 6:30, the sun is long down and we are obviously pretending it is years ago. We are going out of the house in the dark. We are going to a party where dinner isn’t going to be served until about 8:30. We are going to a party which will be crowded and indoors. What was I thinking?

Well, it’s the annual holiday party of the law firm that I co-founded over 30 years ago, and from which I retired about ten years ago. I will know maybe 10 people out of about 30. I will be the oldest. Edie will be second.

The party (back when it was held pre-Covid) was always festive. Good food, drink and conversation, and ending with a White Elephant Exchange, where we always hoped we would wind up with something better than we brought, but – to my memory – rarely did. This year, I have told the host that we are going to leave before the White Elephant Exchange. I think we will. Discipline. Discipline. Discipline.

It was a beautiful day today. This afternoon I went down to the Second Story Used Book store in Dupont Circle to look at their outside books, and see if I could find any bargains, typically books signed by the author. There was a copy of an oldish book signed by Alan Drury, but it looked its age, and I left it on the shelf. The Dupont area was quite crowded. Some sort of a Holiday bazaar, I guess, with crafts people set up with tents selling all sorts of things I don’t need, and many of which I couldn’t even identify. I was probably the oldest person walking on that block by 40 years.

When I left Dupont, I drove the short distance to Georgetown and went into the Bryn Mawr book store there (The Lantern is its official name) to see if they had anything interesting. They had a bizarre sale going on – any book or print marked $50 or higher was on sale for half price. Thus, a $49 book was on sale for $49, but a $50 book could be had for $25. I didn’t expect to find anything that I was going to spend that much money on but I did find a perfect, first edition copy of Sen. Ted Kennedy’s book “America: Back on Track”, published in 2006, signed by him on the title page. It was marked $75, so I got it for $37.50. It my first book signed by a Kennedy brother, and I am glad I found it.

This morning, we were at the Shabbat services of the Adas Israel havurah, which meets upstairs in the library of the synagogue, while the two main services are proceeding downstairs. We only meet monthly, and I got the first aliah, and special recognition of my birthday, which is something I actually was not looking or. I also delivered the Dvar Torah this morning, something I have been working on off and on for the past few weeks, and I think it went well. I have the text in print. I could append it to this blog, but I have no idea how to do that. Why not? Because, you see, I am 80 years old and, at least sometimes, must act my age.

80 year olds appreciate unusal anecdotes. The NYT obituary for critic Michael Feingold tells of when Feingold, then an undergraduate senior at Columbia asked Professor Robert Brustein if he’d write him a letter of recommendation for the Yale Drama School. Brustein agreed. Some time later, Feingold reminded Brustein and asked him if he had sent in the recommendation. Brustein told young Feingold to look at the newspaper the next morning. He did, finding that Brustein had just been named dean of Yale Drama. According to Feingold, Brustein wrote the recommendation, received it and read it, and then – taking his own advice – admitted Feingold to Yale.

80 year olds read books. I just finished Nadine Gordimer’s “A World of Strangers”, which I enjoyed. She is such a good writer – probably why she won a Nobel Prize, right? “A World of Strangers” was written in the 1950s. A young English man, 20-something, is sent to Johannesburg to work temporarily for his family’s small publishing business as a sales rep for South Africa. He is given the name of an old school years friend of his mother, who is now the extraordinarily wealthy and hospitable wife of a mining magnate. He also meets some black and coloured men (in South African terms), and befriends some of them, who are active opponents of South Africa’s British colonial government. He meets a couple of young women, both divorced, one through his mother’s wealthy friend, one an activist also in contact with many blacks. Each of the women, different from each other, feel estranged from South African society and feel their lives have been wasted. As an Englishman, Toby (that’s his name) looks at South African society different from any of his South African friends and so Gordimer, writing in South Africa, is able to give a different perspective of Johannesburg society than you might otherwise be familiar with. This is the fourth Gordimer book I have read. The others were “The House Gun”, “My Son’s Story” and (the best that I have read) “The Lying Days”. I recommend them all.

Other than that? Trips to the bakery, the post office and the hardware store. Conversation with a locksmith who was not totally successful in solving one of our problems. Beginning to think about flight reservations for our trip to Portugal next summer. Forty five minutes on the stationary bicycle watching Episode 3 of the Danish series, “Post Mortem”. And working on my Dvar Torah to be given tomorrow at the Adas Israel Havurah.

An 80 year old takes classes. Last night, I finished the 4th and final session of a class, sponsored by the Haberman Institute, and taught by Rabbi Alana Suskin, on the basic theme of how the Covid pandemic changed Judaism in America. As you probably know, when Covid hit, American synagogues tended to discontinue live, in-person services, and move to on-line platforms, either direct screening or through Zoom. Judaism has certain rules that one can say were violated as a result of this transformation. For one thing, certain prayers and rituals require the presence of a “minyan”, or ten adult Jews (in Orthodox circles, ten adult Jewish males). For another, on Shabbat and certain holidays, activities denoted as “work” are prohibited by Jewish law (Jewish law tends to be defined strictly by Orthodox congregations, more liberally by Conservative congregations, and viewed as non-binding by Reform congregations). Using electronic devices (microphones, computers, etc.) is defined as “work” for this purpose.

Rabbi Suskin’s class discussed the concept of a minyan, its origin, its history, its purposes. She then discussed the concept of emergencies (of various sorts) under Jewish law and tradition, relying on Talmudic and rabbinic sources. What constitutes an emergency, such that Jewish law (either the requirement of a minyan or the requirement to avoid “work” on Shabbat and holidays, for example) can be violated? And if it can be violated, how do you determine what would be permissible and what would not be? She gave us a number of Orthodox and Conservative sources, at various times of history (including the current Covid period) to form the basis to discuss this. The general goals would be to conform to Jewish law, except when doing so would be impossible or would put members of the community in danger. But how do you define the limits.

Throughout the Covid period, Zoom and streaming were used by congregations. But some congregations would not use these vehicles on holidays or Shabbat, while others would. And some congregations permitted Zoom or streaming attendees to be considered part of a minyan, while some would not. And how do you decide when the emergency has ended? Like in so many other topics, the answers are not clear.

An 80 year old also Zooms with friends. I do so everything Thursday morning, as part of a group, self-named as the Mavens. Each Thursday about 30 Mavens (who used to meet in person at Beth El Synagogue in Bethesda, and are now in the processing of slowing going back at least to a now-and-then in person session) meets on Zoom, with one member giving a presentation and leading a discussion. This morning, my friend Bert Foer presented on the continuing breakdown of the wall between religion and government, drawing largely on Supreme Court cases over the years. As expected, he did an excellent job, and will be sharing his text with the entire group of about 50. I am not going to summarize his points, but here are the ones I raised in the question and answer session: (1) if the large Bladensburg Cross, which the Supreme Court blessed, which is only public ground in suburban Maryland should not have been so blessed (as Bert contends), why is it OK to have a national Christmas tree on the Ellipse, or a large Channukah menorah? Or White House Christmas decorations? (2) If the government can override religious objections (of the traditional Church of the Latter Day Saints) against polygamy, or override human sacrifices (as they surely would if a neo-Aztec religion developed), both being against a more important moral standard, why shouldn’t government be able to outlaw abortion (even if some religions countenance it) on the same grounds, and (3) if the Supreme Court outlaws same-sex marriage on Constitutional grounds in the future, how could the new Defense of Marriage Act, when finally passed by Congress, override that determination, as the role of the Supreme Court is, in part, to rule on the constitutionality of Congressionally passed legislation?

And, for the second time this week, an 80 year old has lunch with friends. This time with two lawyers, like me St. Louis natives, and with whom I have worked in years gone by. Our ages are 88, 80 and 70. The specifics of our conversation is of importance really only to the three of us. But there was one thing that I found of interest. To be put in the folder dated “Coincidences”. One of the three has been writing a book set in St. Louis. I asked whether it was fiction or fact. She told me it was “creative fiction”. Or did she say “creative fact”? It doesn’t matter; I don’t know what either really is, or whether they would differ from each other. But she asked us if either of us remembered a Chinese restaurant in Olivette MO named Chu Wah, and if so did we know exactly where it was located. Neither did. But our 88 year old friend said that he remembered, from his time in St. Louis a Chinese restaurant in University City called Shanghai. And I chimed in that I didn’t remember either; that the Chinese restaurant I always ate ate was the Lotus Room in Brentwood. My guess is that none of these restaurants exist today.

So I decided to Google “Chu Wah Olivette”, and I found someone else who had asked the universe if they remembered Chu Wah. There were 41 comments on his question. But one struck me. I am paraphrasing a bit when I say it said: “Yes, I remember Chu Wah in Olivette and I remember when its owner opened the restaurant after closing the Shanghai in University City, but I always ate at the Lotus Room in Brentwood.” There you go.