Art is 80

I can’t say that I understand the neighborhood we are staying in. It’s called Campo de Ourique, and it’s a center Lisbon neighborhood filled with 3 to 5 story residential buildings, built at various times over the course of the 20th century. It’s described as a middle class neighborhood with a number of (mainly French) expats and as a neighborhood in the middle of tourist Lisbon, but not a tourist destination.

It’s also filled with small stores, small groceries, small patisseries and small restaurants. In fact, everything is small here. I am one of the tallest.

For the last three days, at about 8 a.m., I have joined the Great Lisbon Decent Pastry Search. So far, no luck. Delicious coffee and not so delicious pastries. Now, every patisserie, and there is on most blocks, bakes their own goods. And they have found out how to make them all taste the same, at least in Campo de Ourique. How they do that is a state secret, I am sure.

There are two kinds of patisseries . The first is very modest, with tables outside for maybe 10. They are occupied by men of a certain age, who enter, order coffee, are very happy to see friends, and who sit down, sil their drink and become glued to their smart phones. Some add a cigarette, that is beyond the logistical capacity of the others.

The other patisseries are bigger, cleaner, sleeker and more modern. They are visited by women, more than men, in a ratio of about 2 to 1. They have mastered the art of increasing the variety of pastries visually, while still having them all taste the same. A deep state secret.

A diversion: is there a Deep State in Portugal? Is there any state here? Hard to say, at least in Lisbon, where the important thing in the world is making sure that your pastry doesn’t stand out and cause too much attention.

Okay, back to the Gulbenkian Museum. Gulbenkian was Armenian, born in the Ottoman Empire, spent much of his life in London (where he is buried) and his last years in Lisbon (where he died). He was a masterful collector and philanthropist, as well as the man who controlled virtually all of the oil in Iraq. His will provided for a museum and foundation.

Just as there are two kinds of patisseries in Lisbon, there are two kinds of museums. One kind consists of museums founded and controlled by the will of a collector – the Gulbenkian, the Freer in Washington, the Demenil in Houston and so forth. The other kind are not .

The art in the collector’s museums are picked very carefully and lovingly and are easy to appreciate. The art in other museums? Not necessarily so. Often those museums contain works by famous artists that are not their best. They are the pieces that donors are happy to get rid of. Don’t believe me? Okay, then. Name me one piece of art in a collector’s museum that is only mediocre. See? You can’t do it.

The Gulbenkian is a wonderful museum, both in design and content. And the content is eclectic. From ancient Egyptian and Middle Eastern pieces to Greek and Roman sculpture, Iranian rugs and pottery, ceramics from Iznik, rugs from Bursa, Chinese ceramic, Japanese prints, European painting and sculpture and furniture, Lalique glass.

We saw three special exhibits. One terrific display of 18th and 19th century Japanese prints. One of contemporary Portuguese art, and of the sculpture of Giacometti and a Portuguese sculptor named Chaves.

We were there for 3 hours. Could have been there longer .

Today is a very hot Monday. Most museums are closed. I am told the plan is to lounge in the apartment this morning, and take an Uber to another neighborhood for lunch and vintage shopping. That excites me. I need more stuff. For my museum. After all, I am a collector.

So what’s it like when it’s 100 degrees in Lisbon? First, it’s hot. But second, it’s not particularly humid, and there is a breeze, so if you can stay in the shade, it’s ok. Sort of.

Last night, when it wasn’t 100, Edie and I had a date night. Joan and Hannah had salad and eggs at home, but we walked four or five blocks south (until I looked at a map I was sure it was north) of our apartment to a restaurant called O Magano, which I found on a website that talked about restaurants in our neighborhood. We got there about 7:30 and sat at the only table which didn’t have a “reserved” marker. In typical Portuguese style, the waitress rushed to bring us a selection of appetizers. We settled on two – green beans teriyaki style and chick peas with pieces of cod. Both went well with our red and white house wines (by the way, all our local wines have been good). We then ordered the grilled turbot for two, which came with potatoes, carrots and spinach, and was much too much for us to eat, but very good (ok, so I didn’t taste the carrots or potatoes). And then we ordered dessert! A very dark, dark chocolate cake and an almond torte, both delicious. Okay, so this cost us as much as we would pay for an expensive meal in the US, but it was worth it. And I should add that we seemed to be the only tourists in the restaurant, always a good sign.

Our waitress was a little too pushy (she pushed us into the appetizers), and at the end said something when she handed us the bill we never had heard before in this country: “You know, service is not included.” And, yes, I fell for it.

I did ask her what “Magano” meant. The restaurant was clearly not Italian. She said it meant “a foolish person”, but that in her small village near the Spanish border, it meant “a beautiful girl”. That made no sense whatsoever until I realized that, when she was young, people there must have called her a magano and her parents told her it meant she was a beautiful girl. Then it all made sense.

This morning, once more I left early and ordered mediocre pastry and very good coffee. Going back to the house, I rounded up the others and we walked past last night’s restaurant and went to a stop for Tram 28, the famous Lisbon trolley pictured time and time again in promotional material. We were at the second stop, but each of the seats in the team were already filled. But we settled in for our 45 minute ride through town.

I found it all interesting , but I can’t say I saw everything standing up the entire way and I had no idea where were or what I would have seen had I been able to see everything. Churches, a parliament building, hills, neighborhoods that all looked alike, crowds, a water view. Joan thought the ride was “cool”, but we all thought it was too crowded and too hot and not a necessary Lisbon activity. We did meet a nice French family from Brittany and had some interesting conversation on the ride.

It was lunch time when got off at the end of the route and found a “Mexican” restaurant with air conditioning. How long did it take to get our food? Like an hour. And I didn’t find it (it being my chicken enchilada or Edie’s vegetable burrito) particularly edible, but boy did I enjoy my Coke after the ride. It was the best Coke ever canned. And the monkeys on the wall were neat.

Again, I should mention our waitress, who seemed to be trying, but no cigars. She was not able to translate our order (made in English) to computer language, which is how she communicated with the kitchen. Items like “rice” sent her into a tizzy – pushing buttons, looking confused, asking for help and so forth. And why did we wait an hour for food? Was it a kitchen problem, or did she just forget to retrieve it? Hard to say. Eventually she brought everything but the rice, which took a little longer.

But, as you know, God works in mysterious ways. Let me mention two. First, he sent all young Catholics to celebrate mass with the Pope, so the city wouldn’t be too crowded. Second, he made sure we didn’t get out of the restaurant until 2 pm.

This turned out to be important because the Gulbenkian Foundation Museum becomes free at 2 on Sunday. The Gulbenkian, by the way, gets an A+. But this post is already too long, so come back soon for more.

At 4 p.m. in Lisbon, the temperature is 97, feels like 99. Just saying.

This morning , Michelle and crew flew back to the States on a TAP plane to Heathrow and a British Air flight home. Their plane was scheduled to leave at 7:30, so you can imagine what time they left their hotel. Of course, their plane left late, causing them to sprint at Heathrow, only to learn that their seconf plane was leaving late, too. Andrew and Izzy left our place this morning at 7:30 for their 11 a.m. plane across the Atlantic. Because Andrew was with Izzy, they were given priority treatment in every line and wound up at the gate with months to spare. All are flying states-bound now.

I went out early. Sat at a small cafe, had a pastry and coffee. My definite conclusion: Portugal has no idea how to make pastry, but makes excellent coffee. I walked around the neighborhood. Three used book stores. May never get to any of them. No big deal. I don’t read Portuguese. Did you know that?

We had lunch at a small cafe, where we sat outside on the sidewalk. No, I don’t mean next to the sidewalk. On the sidewalk. How do these little places make a living? This place had two counter chairs indoors and a few tables outside on the sidewalk seating maybe 15.

I would give my sandwich an A. It was a chicken salad (translated chicken paste) and I didn’t pay much attention to what else. Turned out to be greens, beets, pickles, tomatoes, and not a sandwich at all but a wrap. The wrap was much thinner and crisper at the edges than what you get at home. The taste was excellent.

While I haven’t found Portuguese fish to be as good as I expected, I have found that the Portuguese have a knack for good combinations. Also, I should say that Portuguese chips and fries are tops.

We finished eating and called an Uber which came in 4 minutes. We had 2 p.m. tickets at the aquarium (the Oceanarium). I was surprised it took over 30 minutes to get there. Big city.

Although it involves much walking, the aquarium is absolutely worth a visit. It takes you around the world, ocean by ocean. No fresh water river fish allowed. You follow the arrows to make two concentric circles and stop to see a film about the aquarium’s labs and vetinary activities.

Even though the aquarium was crowded with Catholic Youth among others, it was roomy enough to see everything.

A very nice Uber driver coming home. Learned a lot about Portugal’s economy. He said he understood Americans buying retirement properties. That was fine. But Portuguese who convert their homes to rental and air b&bs for tourists, they are the problem, driving up rents beyond what natives can afford. And he isn’t happy with remote workers from other countries who can pay the high rents to work from Lisbon.

We also talked about the Pope’s visit and Catholic Youth Day, which he says has paralyzed the city for 6 days and hurt the economy. Again, he doesn’t blame the teens who get a chance to see Lisbon, but they don’t spend money. And the Pope devastates mobility around the city. It was promoted as win-win. But it’s lose-lose.

I also read a bit about Portugal . Fertility rate is 1.43, well below replacement rate. Last year, for every 8 births, there 11 deaths. And lifespan is 81, so lifespan isn’t the reason. On another topic, there a many Blacks here, it appears. That’s because, until 1975 when the country divested itself of its colonials, Portuguese colonial subjects were automatically citizens. But the number of Lusoblacks (Remember that Lusitania = Portugal) is hard to figure. Portugal does not calculate races as we do. The child of a white Portuguese citizen and a Lusoblack, in Portugal, is not classified as Black, for example. At least that’s what I read.

Tomorrow we will talk about birthright citizenship.

We are in Lisbon, in Campo Ourique, in our friend’s wonderful condo. We bring Edie, Hannah, Andrew, Joan, Izzy and me. Tomorrow Andrew and Izzy fly home, leaving four of us until Thursday.

After a frantic morning clearing our vacation house in Foz, Michelle and crew left to turn in their car at the airport and kill and afternoon, and we pulled into our taxi for the 100 km drive to Lisbon.

But remember that the Pope is in Lisbon and this is also the home of this year’s Catholic Youth Day, so we weren’t surprised when the taxi driver told us that he wasn’t sure he could get us to our house because so many roads were closed. He said he knew he could get us within about 1 km, but that might be it. What???

Well, it did bring some anxiety to our otherwise beautiful ride down A8. That’s for sure. Hills and farms and towns and more hills and towns on the hills. And then Metro Lisbon – hills and apartments, many of fine design, and even more of pastel colors, especially blues and pinks. Then into an older area of the city know as Campo Ourique, which we were told is filled with restaurants and expats.

It turned out that there was no problem, either with access or traffic and, except for occasional covens of teenage kids, there is no sign of anything out of the ordinary.

We all had lunch at a small casual place a block away, where we got scrambled eggs, two egg omelets, a large salad, a chicken salad sandwich, a cheese and tomato sandwich, an order of stewed mushrooms, a coke, a lemonade, orange and pineapple and mango juices and two espressos, all for about 50 euros.

The afternoon was spent in the condo – how many times can one watch Frozen? I did venture out to find Raffi’s Bagels before they closed at 4. I got there at 3:45, but the bagels were all gone.

We told Hannah and Andrew that we’d take care of the kids and they could go out for dinner. And they took us up on that. Before they left, Edie and I walked to Memorial Pizza, two blocks away and ordered carryout, having time to enjoy a glass of wine on a street table while the pizzas were baking.

So dinner at home. All hands on deck required to get Izzy to bed (we hope). “I don’t like that diaper!!” “Read me that book again!!” Etc

Now it’s quiet.

Tomorrow, without having to worry about nap time, we can start exploring Lisbon.

It’s our last full day in Foz da Arelho. Tomorrow we head to Lisbon at 10 a.m. I assume we will find our condo and be able to get in without a problem. BUT we aren’t the only tourists in Lisbon. The Pope is in town. And tens of thousands of others for Catholic Youth Day. So crowded Lisbon is super crowded. So will streets be clogged? Will the restaurants be too crowded? Will Ubers be unavailable? We will see.

This morning, sunny but with gale winds, sweatshirt weather, we went to the lighthouse at Peniche, built in 1790 after a big ship wreck off the coast. It sits at the tip of a dramatic peninsula surrounded by rocky cliffs and roaring surfs. There are a number of rough trails over rocks and sandy dirt to provide beautiful views in all directions. We chose one, started up, walked through the dirt, over the rocks, on broad ledges, up steps, across bridges. Onward.

I was with Michelle ‘s family. But walking up, we ran into Andrew, with Izzy riding on his back. The views were spectacular even for a 2 year old.

Then lunch. We saw nothing near where we were, but thought that there must be something on the Peniche beach. There probably was, but we missed it, but driving through the town of Ferrel, Our Lady of GPS told us there was a place nearby we could try.

A digression. It is very windy today and very sunny. That meant the waves were very high. The beaches around Peniche are surfing beaches, and it seemed there were as many surf boards as people wandering the streets.

Pateo de Vila. Should be easy to find. Not on the beach. Not on the main road through town. Follow the GPS. Turn right? Okay. Then turn left and it’s a couple of blocks away. Oops. One way street. But we can find it. Several turns later and there it is.

Residential neighborhood. Well kept, whitewashed adjoining homes with red tile roofs. But the restaurant blends in. Tastefully decorated, three tables for 6, three for four. That’s it. I opted for Thai vegetable green curry. Excellent. Two of my best Portuguese meals have been Thai and Indian. Go figure.

Back home after lunch. Izzy finally ran into a table and will have a black eye. There was a raucous game of Kids Create Absurdity. And a game of Cats In Costume, a matching game where I thought I would come in last (6 played) and did. My memory for a card matching game has always been weak and now has been shot. Joan tells me I need to think deeper.

A restaurant tonight in Foz, two doors down from our first night restaurant. I had dorado, which was the best fish I have had here yet. Also tasted Joan’s fish sticks, which were excellent and perhaps restaurant made. Conclusion which was forgone – I don’t like cod, sardines, or sea bass (The most common fish so far by far) any more in Portugal than I do at home.

Tonight, a frenzy of packing, so we will be ready for our 10 a.m. pickup.

Talk to you tomorrow from Lisbon, where the weather promises to be each day in the 90s.

For this trip, with my family, including wife, daughters, sons in law, grandchildren and step grandchildren, I changed my approach. Rather than be the trip planner and historian, I decided to attack the trip differently. I decided to do nothing. I didn’t pick the house we are staying in or its location, I haven’t picked a restaurant, I haven’t designed a single excursion, I am not driving a car, and I haven’t researched our surroundings. I am just going along for the ride.

It’s worked out okay. I was told that today, we were going to Tomar. I looked at it on the map – about 100 kilometers from here – and realized it would be a longish drive, and I was told there was an old synagogue there.

The trip from Foz da Arelho took a little more than hour. Pretty scenery, largely on fast highways. High hills or low mountains, farms and towns, a lot green, many flowers including the large pink and white oleander bushes that adorn the median strip on Highway A8, which runs from Lisbon to Porto. Two tunnels, several river crossings. Terra totally incognito to me.

Tamor was a surprise. There is an old town, which is very old and picturesque and, for the most part, well maintained. Easy to find your way, because the old town was basically a grid, with a central plaza at one end. Behind the plaza, a green hill/mountain with a castle at the top.

There are many restaurants and a large variety of shops – clothing, jewelry, children’s shops, and services. All quite nice and friendly.

And on a street primarily residential, there’s a synagogue. Not a big one, and not functioning as a synagogue, it is now a small, but appealing Jewish museum. It has been well restored, and is architecturally, just another town house on the block. It once encompassed the houses on either side, one now a private residence and the other where you view the remains of a mikveh through a large glass window. There is a pleasant guide, happy to answer your questions. She apparently belongs to one of the two Jewish families in Tomar today.

But back in the day (it’s a fifteenth century synagogue), Jews made between 30 and 40 percent of Tomar, and had been there a long time. They were formally expelled, along with all the Jews in Portugal in 1496. But if they didn’t leave, as I recall my history, no big deal. They were willingly or not baptized en masse, whether or not they were present at the baptism ceremony. Much more thoughtful than what happened four years earlier in neighboring Spain.

Tomar was also a headquarters of the Portuguese Templars, a Catholic order (but much more) I have read about quite a bit. Wikipedia says that many Jews worked for the Templar organization in Tomar. I certainly can see that happening.

In the early 14th century, the Pope (under the influence of the king of France) decided that the Templars were too big and too wealthy and were rivalling the Vatican, so he ordered all Templar institutions shut down and turned over to the Church. In some places (in fact in most places) Templar leaders were rounded up and killed. But in Portugal, as a precursor to what happened to the Jews 150 years later, the Templar buildings were not stolen and given to the Vatican. Instead, one morning the Templars woke up, learned they were now members of a new Order of Christ, and life contued as normal, not only in Tomar but all through Portugal.

By the way, this synagogue is one of only two pre-expulsion synagogues in Portugal. And there are only four or five in Spain.

We had lunch in Tomar at an Italian restaurant called La Bella. Much too much food for lunch but, gee, that’s what this family does. I had “gorgonzola ravioli” which was delicious. I are about half, which was more than I needed. And I ate less, I am sure, than anyone else. So this evening, at a restaurant down by the beach near us, Restaurante Europa, I only ordered an omelet because I was still full. But they served it with good french fries, so once again I ate too much. And, by the way, tragedy did strike at the Europa. Ever been attacked by catsup? Let me tell you – it’s no fun.

Both missing suitcases are now here. Michelle, who started learning Portuguese on Duolingo and was dismayed to discover she was learning Brazilian Portuguese was pleased when she thanked one of the deliverymen who responded by saying “Are you from Brazil? So am I “.

This morning we went down our neighborhood boardwalk with beautiful views over the cliffs to the sea. Getting back was as easy as 1-2-3. That is, to get back we walked up 123 steps.

2 year old Izzy loved the walk, and ran and strolled, until he came to a flat space and sat down. ” This”, he said, “is our headquarters.”. And he would stayed there the rest of the morning.

Actually not all of us went on the walk. Andrew, Joan, Josh, Olie and Ian went kayaking in the lagoon. No one fell in. All were tired.

Then, I went with Michelle and crew to Porrinhos Dos Leitoes, a suckling pig restaurant in nearby Salir de Porto. It’s a modern and large roadside restaurant, very popular and highly rated. One of the other complications of our trip is that half of us keep kosher and half don’t. I’m in the middle – kosher in our kosher home, but not outside of it. But suckling pig is a little too much for me, so I ordered the bacalau alla chefe (cod). Portions in Portugal tend to be large. My cod would have fed two or maybe three. The menu said there would be clam sauce, but in fact the fish was smothered in shrimp, prawns, clams, mussels and a few other things I couldn’t identify. It was surrounded by slices of potato and all mixed in a delicious sauce. It was too much in several ways and, IMHO, would have been better without the cod.

Following lunch, I went with Edie and Hannah’s family (minus Izzy) to Obidos. My second time in three days. Finally, the souvenir mania took control. A blouse, two bracelets, two ceramic dishes, a book, a harmonica and a Mickey Mouse noisemaker.

After an hour or two in Obidos, we were tasked with getting pizza for ten to bring home. Obidos, walled and castled city as it is, didn’t see like pizza land, and it’s only 20 minutes from us, but the route skirts Caldas da Rainha, the largest city on the Silver Coast, so we ventured in, eventually spotting Piazza Pizza, only to discover it was closed on Tuesdays. So Google and Pizza Near Me it was. Turns out we were only a few minutes from Mr. Pizza, and I ordered three maxi pizzas. I gave the proprietor my card and he said cash only. That would have been fine except that I forgot to bring my ATM card on the trip (for those with a photographic memory, you know that), Edie’s was at the house and neither Hannah’s nor Andrew’s were working. Luckily I had dollars in my wallet so we worked out an exchange rate favorable to him and got our pizza. Across the street was a “traditional Portuguese” bakery, with very rich looking multi-layer cake rectangles and I bought four- enough to feed maybe 16. The pizza was ok (although the olives on the veggie pizza weren’t pitted – say,, the cakes ok+++.

Enough for now. What’s on the agenda for tomorrow? Tomar? Could anything be more appropriate?

One scheduld to be delivered today,one tomorrow. Both reported to have enjoyed their mini-vacations at Heathrow.

It was an interesting morning. Our plan was to visit the monastery at Alcobaca, and then go to Nazare for lunch and be back for the 2 year old’s nap. Well, 10 person coordination is hard, as you might imagine as young person decided not to and one adult would have to stay home as well. So the negotiations began, slowing down everything. But all worked out and we were all on our way, about 45 minutes behind schedule.

The church at Alcobaca is quite large with an ornate Gothic front and is the final home of several Portuguese royals. Especially King Pedro and his would-be queen, the noble but not noble enough woman who Pedro loved, but who Pedro’s father condemned to death. Pedro vowed to provide a proper place for her after death and vowed to rest in the same place after his death. And so it was.

The church was built by the Cistercians in the 12th century (that’s 900 years ago). Adjoining it is a large monastery which closed in 1833, when apparently all monasteries in Portugal were closed by royal decree. Time and expense led us to skip the monastery tour for 10- we missed the form, the kitchen and so forth. Next time.

On to Nazare in our two cars. Every try to find two nearby parking places in Nazare? An impossibility. So we split – each car on its own. I went in Hannah’s car. We found a parking spot a block (short block) from the beach and the group decided to eat at (believe it or not) an Indian restaurant. Turns out there is a fair amount of Indian food in Portugal, much based on the cuisine of Goa, the former Portuguese Indian colony. The food was pretty good, I am happy to say. And next door is the Petite Parisienne, where I had the best coffee yet this week.

Nazare, very crowded and very pleasant, is much different from the small, remote fishing village that it was when I was here 51 years ago. For the better? Maybe, but less picturesque.

So at about 7 tonight, we got word that one of the missing bags have been located at Heathrow and was put on a plane arriving at 4 today. We have no confidence that they will find where we are staying so will keep our phones on a constant watch and see what happens. We don’t know which bag it is.

Now, I know many of you think that this hasn’t been a good vacation because everything has gone wrong, but we don’t view it that way. It is just different.

Speaking of that, we just got back from dinner at an upscale restaurant less than 10 minutes from the house. A restaurant that Google loves, with most reviews giving it 5 stars.

Well, where should I start? Edie’s meal never came at all. Izzy threw half of his meal in the floor with loud remarks heard throughout town, until he decided that it was pretty good after all. Joan had trouble spearing her buttered new potatoes and about 5 of them ended up on the floor. She also decided to keep Josh’s clam shells as a souvenir, wrapped them in her napkin and promptly spilled them all on the way away from the table. Someone else (who will not be named) put too much pressure on the arm of their plastic Eames-like chair which snapped and broke. The veggie burger and the swordfish and the cod were not very good. The tuna, the french fries, the vegetables and the corn bread was very good. And I am told the clams were, as well.

Now, back at the house. Sunset is over, port is being sipped, Izzy is in bed, Joan and Ian (8 and 11) are talking about what their social lives are like.

What will tomorrow bring? Tune in and find out.

Nothing, really, but I have to say that, so far, the food I have had in Portugal leaves me cold. Yesterday, for lunch, I ordered grilled sardines (four large ones) served with new potatoes, red pepper and what the restaurant called corn bread (not the cornbread we know). It wasn’t bad (at all) and the potatoes were excellent, but I don’t think I will order sardines again. Michelle had salted cod with scrambled eggs – I tried them, but no thanks. My fish stew the night before had two kinds of fish in it – one quite good and one not at all. After some research, I decided the second one was monkfish. I don’t have much experience with monkfish.

I tried a pastel de nata, the famous Portuguese custard pastry. Again, not bad, but not necessary. And I bought an almond pastry to have for breakfast and didn’t think it was nearly as good as it looked. We did carryout last night from a casual beach restaurant. I had a chicken Caesar salad. It, in fact, was quite good, but not very Portuguese.

I am not complaining, just reporting, and we have miles to go. On the other hand, you have to like the prices. The sardines were 11€ and the carryout for 10 people cost 110€, and included 5 Caesar salads, 2 burgers, 2 quesadillas and an assortment of potato and sweet potato fries and chips and guacamole.

Putting food aside, the non-highway route between here and Obidos (20 minutes or so) is exquisite. Fruit farms with innumerable mature apple, pear and peach orchards ready for picking. Picturesque farm homes, some large and old and two evocative villages.

Walled Obidos on a Sunday during a Renaissance Festival was crowded and a lot of fun. At the main gate through the wall, there was a fado singer/accordionist. There were two nights engaged in swordplay (clearly just play) and many costumed wanderers. Craft booths set up selling jewelry and textiles and who knows what. A lot of different foods. Flower crowns being woven on the spot.

It’s a beautiful old town, plenty of streets to walk, castle walls to walk on top of (no railing), sights to see. Hills and cobblestones.

And the mad dog of Obidos ? Not to be seen. Many dogs attending the festival but they were all Pomeranians and Yorkies and the like. And all seemed quite sane.

Oh, and the missing luggage? Still missing, and this does cast a shadow on things, to be sure. And a house with ten independent minded people, including people who are 15, 11, 8 and 2 and 80 does pose its own challenges, though all being met satisfactorily so far. And for a while yesterday we were 14 people, including a 6 year old and a baby, as Andrew’s cousins who live in Portugal spent the afternoon here

Day 2? Seems like Day 22. Still no word on missing luggage. The very nice airport man who took our complaint gave us a phone number to call “tomorrow morning”. Called the number and got a recording: ‘the office is open 9 to 17, Monday through Friday. Please call back.” On line, it says “still searching”.

I did go down to beach area. It’s within walking distance, but coming back is much like going to the Mt. Everest base camp. So we drove.

I didn’t go to beach itself, but had lunch in a small cafe. A sandwich and double espresso for under 5 euros. Can’t beat that. The small business are is about 50 steps up the cliff from the beach area, although there are restaurants down below. The beach is broad and divided into the ocean and bay/lagoon. The ocean had waves and chilly water. The bay calm and warm. A good number of people and on the beach level, a continual parade of cars forced to drive slowly.

Foz has its center away from the beach and we ate there last night at Tibino da Something or Other. OK, here goes: 10 people, sea bream for two, turbot for two, two mixed grills, one fish stew, one ahi tuna, 4 orders bread and olives, 8 alcoholic drinks, 5 non-alcoholic drinks. Price: 226 euros. How is that possible? This was a first class restaurant by the way.

The weather here is still good. High today about 75. Fahrenheit.

Off to Obidos soon.

The house in Foz da Arelho is very nice. An ocean view. Very roomy. Swimming pool. Everyone is here.

But not everything. Two pieces of luggage didn’t make our plane. That means three of us don’t have our clothes. Yet. We hope yet. We filed a complaint to track the bags. They tell us they usually locate them quickly. We hope they were lost and not stolen. They might still be at Heathrow since all our bags had to transfer from our British Air when we missed our connection and they rebooked us on TAP.

When the bags are located, we are told they will be delivered here. We are about an hour north of Lisbon, overlooking Obidos Bay. But we are a new house on a new street, and we are very hard to find. Even our driver last night couldn’t find the place. Michelle had to come out of the house at 2 a.m. to flag down the car. So, who knows, but our bags, like Charlie, may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Fox de Arelho. (How old need you be to catch that reference?)

Apropos of nothing, do you know that Brits say “rubbish” instead of “trash”? And our stewardess didn’t say “thank you” and instead said “lovely”. So thoughout our trip we heard “Rubbish?…..Lovely”. At our house here, there is no garbage disposal, so we bag all of our lovely rubbish.

It is very beautiful and we have a majestic view. To put left, the Bay of Obidos, reminding me of when the mad dog of Obidos chased me from town 51 years ago, and not far to the north, Nazerè where I drank myself to sleep trying out different types of port on a rainy day when I was recovering from being chased by the mad dog.

Still very tired from the neverending journey of yesterday. Compressing a week of problems (first world problems to be sure) into fewer than 24 hours. Should be back to normal tomorrow.

Another factoid. We landed in Lisbon last night after 11. By the time we finished dealing with the luggage, it was after midnight. When we went into the main airport area outside of security, we expected to see an empty terminal. But no! There were thousands of people there. Getting off planes, meeting people. And everything else. It was like the middle of the day. The middle of a very busy day. No one looked tired or ready to go to bed. What world are we in?

I don’t expect to leave the house until dinner tonight. I have no idea what else is going on in the world. Hopefully, nothing.

I will make this short and simple. Our 10:45 British Air flight from Dulles left at 11:56 instead. We arrived at Heathrow with a little over an hour (instead of two hours), but (1) our gate had another plane, so we had to wait on the tarmac a while, and (2) one of the Terminal 5 check in spots was closed for the day, so we needed to take a train to another and work our way back to the entry of the area for our gate and they told us we were too late. So we had to go to the British Air rebook desk (another long shlep) and they rebooked us on a TAP flight, which was 6 hours later, and that meant we needed to take the bus to Terminal 2, walk a few miles to the TAP desk and get boarding passes and arrange for luggage transfer. Instead of arriving in Portugal at 3:45, we will get there at 10:30 p.m. and not get to our house until midnight. And remember we are traveling with a 2 year old. And no one got much sleep last night. For me,I got none.

We are now having lunch at London’s Pride at Heathrow. Our plane leaves in not quite five hours.

And how was your day?

Anybody remember that? During the Vietnam War, when the Nhus were chased out of the South Vietnamese government overnight, this was the pun on the New York Times’ coverage of the event.

And then there was the story of the bear wearing a young man’s shoes who stole the valuable vase collection of the Chinese billionaire – Boyfoot Bear with Teaks of Chan.

Now why am I repeating these two puns, neither of which are worth repeating? I have no idea.

Moving on…….

Tonight we leave for Portugal. Our plane (containing not only the two of us, but one of our daughters and one of our son-in-laws and our 8 and 2 year old grandchildren) doesn’t leave Dulles until 10:45 p.m. And of course we will all be flying overnight. First, the 7 hours to England, and after a stop of about 2 hours, another 2 and 1/2 to Lisbon. You would think that our bodies would have enough common sense to sleep soundly last night so that we will be rested for tonight’s venture, right? Not on your life – maybe we slept 3 or 4 hours last night. The report from Hannah’s house is similar. So what will tonight bring?

And not only that, will I be able to cope well with it? Already, at 11 a.m. today, all I can think of are teaks of Chan and sprinting Nhus. What will it be like 12 and then 24 hours from now?

Another joke I saw yesterday, equally not worth repeating. One old man says to another old man: “I think it’s amazing after all these years that you always call your wife Honey, or Dear, or Sweetie. How is it that you still do that?” The other old man answers: “It’s not “how”, it’s “why”. A few years ago, I wanted to call her by her name, but I couldn’t remember it, so I called her Honey. I’ve been too embarrassed since to ask her what her name was so Sweetie it will be.”

Yes, this is how my mind is working this morning.

We will be gone just under two weeks. I know there are things we have forgotten to do. Usually, in that case, we simply call one of our kids and they do it for us. But they are all going to be with us, so we have to think of everything now. If anybody knows what we have forgotten, now is the time to tell us. In four or five hours, it will be too late.

This is really a family trip. Ten of us will be in a house in Foz da Arelho for a week (that starts tomorrow) and then Edie, Hannah, Joan and I will be in Lisbon for four days. I have made no plans. I don’t care what we see, or if we see it. I think I will be happy just sitting around the house if it comes to that. And eating sardines, I guess – isn’t that what you do in Portugal?

I am bringing Thomas Mann’s “The Magic Mountain” with me (my Penguin edition). It seems the appropriate thing to bring if you may be spending a lot of time in a house while your two year old grandson is napping. The house will be the equivalent of the TB sanitarium in the book. The first (and only) time I read this book was in 1968, when I was in basic training at Ft. Ord in California, lying on the top bunk, able to see both mountains and the ocean from my perch, craving the few hours of quiet time I could grab. Edie, on the other hand, read the book when she was in the last days of pregnancy – also a time when her mobility was limited.

I put another book in my bag, too, just in case. “Aaron’s Rod” by D.H. Lawrence. That one I haven’t read before. But I have never read anything by Lawrence that I haven’t really liked. The two books should cover my 12 days abroad.

You know, I try to make these blog posts educational or entertaining. I am not sure that this one meets either of those standards. Not sure that tomorrow’s will be any more insightful, but after that…..just wait…..

Yes, believe it or not, I do have the diary from the 1962 trip to Europe I mentioned two days ago. At least I have most of it – the diary ends in Vienna, but from Vienna we went over the Alps to Italy (Venice, Florence, Rome, Naples/Pompeii) and then drove the Italian coast through Genoa (which took forever) into France and the Riviera and then back to Paris and back to London. That part of the trip will forever remain a mystery.

If you look at what I wrote a few days ago, you will see that I didn’t remember everything exactly the way it happened. For example, where is the Prom concert with Henryk Szerying? I do remember it. And now you will see we could not get tickets to Mousetrap – so where did I see it the first time? Etc.

Remember, this was the summer after my sophomore year, and I came to see Europe with my friends Doug, Eric and Pat. You say I could ask them to fill in some of these details? I have tried and they all tell me they feel lucky they even remember the trip at all. We spent the first two weeks in the U.K., and then crossed to France, spending the rest of the trip in an illegally rented car (we were too young) and two pup tents. We flew on a Harvard charter flight from Boston.

Comments below in bold are those I made this morning.

June 13. Arrived 8:20 at London airport. The international terminal was new this year, and really magnificent. An excellent way to first meet a city. I remember an embarrassing incident when I asked a young girl at the airport if she could help me figure out how to use an English payphone. She was French, didn’t speak English, and certainly didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Went through customs with no trouble at all – boarded bus for Victoria terminal. The ride there was past picturesque duplexes and homes and factories (many new and modern). Arrived at Victoria. Cashed a traveler’s check. Found a bed and breakfast place on St. George St. nearby (a guinea a night – overpriced and fifth floor, but convenient). Today I have no idea what a guinea is – more than pound? Spent day just looking around. Walked past Buckingham Palace (a dull, large stone building) down the Mall and Trafalgar and Picadilly [sic], went into American Express, etc. Came back to the room to rest, but instead went with Eric to his friends, the Berwicks. Eric was the only one of us who had been to England before; the Berwicks were friends of his family. I don’t remember much about this visit. Then went to dinner at the Cheshire Cheese on Fleet Street, the newspaper area. Reasonable prices, good food, but not much of it. Built in 1660, recommended by Europe on $5 a Day, so 95% American. Saw C.P. Snow’s “The Affair”, but too tired to enjoy it.

June 14. Got up and had breakfast at the hotel here (all part of the price). Then took off by myself. Much of the trip was having breakfast together and agreeing to meet back at the car for dinner; going out on our own. That’s still what I do a lot. Walked past Buckingham and Trafalgar into Whitehall and down to Parliament Square. Saw the Admiralty, 10 Downing St. being renovated and so forth. Then went into Municipal Courts Building, sat in on a robbery trial (a teenage boy accused of breaking and entering into a store during the night; his defense was that he was forced to do it by an adult man), then spent 1 1/2 hours wandering through Westminster Abbey across the street. Then went into the main hall of Parliament (you have to get tickets way in advance to sit in), then walked down to the Thames and took a boat to London Tower. Wandered around, fairly bored, the ugly old fort with all the old, old swords, shield, etc. Ran into Art Schneider there. Art was a high school classmate – did I do more than just say “hi”? Did I know he was in England? Went to Havaja’s (?) in Soho for dinner – 3 courses for 8/0 – good. Then to Her Majesty’s Theatre for HMS Pinafore. Then wandered around Soho for an hour or so.

June 15. Woke up early again and took a green bus with Eric to Windsor Castle. Home of the monarchs since 1300 or so and one of the biggest palaces in England. It’s quite impressive. Not too much open today. Chapel closed, preparing for the Order of the Garter ceremony, etc. Had lunch in Windsor and walked around Eton College, a prep school – old stark brick buildings with grassless courtyards and quaint gravel streets. Then took bus back through a different route – Egham, where the Magna Carta was signed, Ascot, past Hampton Court Palace, etc. At night, took cab to Lyon Corner House, largest restaurant in Europe (4 large floors, cheap, lousy food). Then, not being able to get tickets for Agatha Christie’s Mousetrap, went to Guilty Party, a pretty good mystery.

June 16. After breakfast, went to bus terminal to stock up on schedules. Getting ready to leave London tomorrow. Then took a subway to the monument of the 1660 fire, climbed the 311 to the top and saw the London panorama. Then walked to C. Wren’s other achievement, St. Paul’s Cathedral, with second largest dome in the world. Very beautiful, ornate colorful. From there went to the British Museum, had lunch and spent most of the afternoon walking around the museum – quite impressive library, with Magna Carta, etc. Also Egyptian, Roman, etc. Then looked at little at the University of London next door and took a long walk home, including Bond St and its expensive shops. Had dinner at a Wimpy’s, London’s version of a White Castle and went to the open air theater in Regent Park. Saw Midsummer Night’s Dream. Very good.

June 17 – Doug and I left London and spent a week traveling, staying in Exeter, Stratford on Avon, Aberystwyth, Caernavon, Chester and Cambridge. Came back to London on the 23rd.

June 23. We got up early, caught the 9 a.m. train to London, got in about 10 and went right to American Express to get our mail, etc. We then went back to our room and then to the train station to pick up our tickets for Paris. The line was fantastically long and it took close to two hours. Then I set off towards Trafalgar, where there was a big Baptist peace rally (no war in 1962, was there?), and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the National Gallery of Art there. Came back to the room, joined with Doug, had dinner and got tickets to see Boeing Boeing, a comedy about a man engaged to three airline stewardesses. Sort of funny, but corny. I remember this play – the man had kept the women apart by scheduling being with them according to their flight schedules. Then Boeing jets were introduced, the schedules got compressed, and his balancing act turned into a French-style farce.

June 24. Spent the morning getting things in London cleaned up and out of the room. We then, about 12, walked to Hyde Park Corner to see what anyone had to say – sort of amazing, all these people up on pedestals, lecturing to immense crowds who had flocked around them. Negro supremacists, Jesus savers, disarmers, conservatives, anti-American tattooed man, etc. Got very bored at this side show, met a girl (sure don’t remember her; and I bet she doesn’t remember me) there from New York and spent most of the afternoon walking through Kensington Gardens and seeing a concert there. Did nothing that evening – got train at 10 from Paris; at 12 had to get on this wretched ferry. Spent four miserable hours crossing Dover to Dunkirk.

That’s it for London. But we came back at the end of our trip in late August for a day or two to catch the charter back to Boston, just before classes began. I guess it’s possible that it was on this last leg of the trip that we went to the Szeryng concert. Maybe even saw Mousetrap.

I have been looking at the polls on Real Clear Politics, and they show that Trump is leading in the Republican primary states by 25 to 40 points. Because he is already under two indictments and two more even more serious ones are on the way, you would think that the Republicans would think twice about wanting such a compromised individual as their candidate. You would think that they would conclude that – even if they thought he was God’s Gift to America – he would be likely to fail to garner enough support from others to allow him to be elected president next year. But no, they are convinced that he is the right candidate and that he will win.

So, I go and look at the polling for a Trump-Biden rematch in 2024 and, low and behold, most of them show the two virtually tied. That must mean that more than the hardcore Trump Republicans say that they will vote for him over Biden. That shows that the Trump Republicans might be right. Maybe he can be elected president again. In fact, a Harris-Harvard poll released over last weekend showed Trump handily beating Biden if the election were held today.

So there must be something so frightening about Biden and the Democrats that it would encourage people to vote for a four-time indicted former president, with an embarrassing past and an unhinged mind, who lies at the drop of a hat, and who has little regard for what have been traditional American values.

I heard the other day that the Republicans think that the Democrats are most vulnerable on the border and the economy. So, if I were a professional Democrat, that’s where I would concentrate, and I would hope that there might be some way to turn some people around.

First, the border. The one thing that gets lost in the border discussion is the state of the law. The Republicans say that we now have an “open” border, which obviously is an exaggeration, and some say that they want to “close” it, which is obviously impossible. But what does the law allow us to do? And why isn’t the focus on Congress’ inability to update the law to reflect a consensus of opinions?

I know that the Biden administration has recently instituted some changes at the border which have lessened illegal crossings, according to published statistics. The Republicans ignore these changes, and say that there has not been a reduction of people coming into the country, and that the only change is that a larger percentage of them have been designated as “legal” or pending determination of their status and have been let into the country willy-nilly, without any limitations as to their freedom to move about and get lost in the crowds. Who is right? And again, what does the law permit? Does anyone know the answer to this last question?

And then there’s the Trump wall. We have always had walls and other barriers – some were upgraded during the Trump years and a small amount of additional wall was built. I have always thought that, considering how many Americans are in favor of a wall, the Democrats should never have been so firmly anti-wall, and should have said that a wall works in some places and not others, that some kinds of walls work and some don’t, that walls simply move border activities to other areas in some instances, and that the existence of the wall is a technical question and should not be a political issue. But the Democratic polarization of the issue has just given the Republicans another argument that the Democrats want open borders.

What should happen? In my opinion, the administration should set forth an immigration policy that (a) talks about how much immigration we need to bolster and secure our economic growth, (b) how we select what type of immigration we need and what is practicable, (c) how the border can be controlled to implement that policy, and (d) how we should respond to emergencies (political emergencies or natural disasters) abroad with regard to permanent or temporary asylum. We also need to be clear as to what our laws are now and how they need to change to allow such a policy to be implemented. And we need an understanding of what our obligations are under international law. I don’t know the answer the any of these questions, but these are the ones the Democrats should pose and explain to the voters.

The Republicans also have their eyes on Homeland Security Secretary Mayorkas. I don’t know what kind of a job Mayorkas is really doing – how much of the border issues are of his doing. He does not come across well in interviews and testimony (IMHO), and saving Mayorkas is not worth losing an election and if the opposition is so sure that Secretary Mayorkas is not the right guy for the job, I would ask him politely to step away, and I would appoint someone in his place to blunt this unnecessary issue.

It is clear that there are border problems, but I think the Democrats need to bring the entire immigration issue into clearer view and get it to the point where the Republican grandstanding looks like grandstanding and not potentially legitimate criticism.

On to the economy. As to the economy in general, the situation is even more confusing. The economy seems to be doing much better than anyone anticipated that it would be at this point – employment numbers, wages, low unemployment, lessening inflation and so forth. But the polls show that, by about 10 points or more, the nation believes that Biden is managing the economy poorly. Again, I get confused because it seems to me that the Democrats should be able to do a better job with this than they have been doing – it’s the message, stupid, not the economy.

I watch or listen to a fair number of Congressional hearings. It is clear what a hearing should be. An opportunity for Congressional representatives to hear from experts in a subject, or people affected by a particular policy, and ask them questions to enable them to explain their positions better. But too often this is far from what happens. More often, witnesses are chosen who agree with the majority party, so there is no exploration of varying positions. And even more often, the Senators and Representatives don’t ask questions at all – they simply make statements, and their statements are diatribes against the other political party. Nothing is gained from these hearings other than the chance for the politicians to get sound bites for their political ads, and having each of these politicians place themselves in positions where compromise with the other side on issues become impossible.

At a hearing on the southern border this week, questions were asked such as: Do you think terrible things are happening on the border? (Answer: yes) OK, do you think that the Biden administration is making things worse? (Answer: yes) OK, thank you for coming hear today to tell us what a horrible job the Biden administration is doing at the border……my time is up.

_______________________

I just reread this post. I can’t say that I like it. On the one hand, everything I have said is obvious, isn’t it? On the other, I don’t see a way out of the political morass that we find ourselves in right now. This post isn’t going to help, that’s for sure. Sometimes, I think we need the proverbial new broom that sweeps clean. But, of course, when I say that, I just sound like another Steve Bannon. And that is surely not what we need.

Meanwhile, we have a constitutional crisis looming in Alabama, and another one percolating on the Rio Grande in Texas.

You see why I am confused?

Daughter Michelle and her family left for Portugal four days before we are leaving in order to get in some extra beach time, and before the entire family gets together for a week halfway up the Atlantic coast. They flew from Dulles and had a several hour stopover in England at Heathrow before continuing on to Lisbon. They arrived in Lisbon about an hour ago.

Their time in Heathrow reminded me of the many times we flew there to go to various destinations in the UK, and the times we have been there just to transfer onto a further destination. The last time we had a transfer at Heathrow was about five years ago, when we flew British Air to Israel. We had about a three hour wait, as I recall, which was fine, if a bit long. Most of that wait was passed in the enormous Terminal 3 waiting area, where it always looks like half the world is hanging around. I remember this time being different. Usually, putting aside the napping travelers, you see a mix of newspaper and books. Five (or maybe now it was six – yes 2023-2017=6) years ago, no one was reading a newspaper – no one – and only a hand full of people were reading books. The waiting area was filled with smartphones, laptops, tablets and kindles. How different it seemed.

Perhaps the most unique trip Edie and I had to England was on another trip to Israel, where on our return trip we had about five hours to spare. We landed late morning, went through British customs, hailed a taxi, went to Windsor (only about 15 minutes or so from Heathrow, believe it or not), left the cab at the Christopher Wren Inn, where we had stayed before, had a wonderful lunch sitting outside on their patio overlooking the Thames, walked through some of the nearby shops (both on the Eton and Windsor sides of the river), hailed another taxi, and got back to the airport in time to go back through customs and make our flight to DC. What was it? The least expensive trip to England ever, or the most expensive lunch of our lives?

I remember other visits to Heathrow. I remember the time Edie and I landed at Heathrow over 40 years ago on our first joint overseas trip, and had arranged to rent a car and drive directly to Cambridge, where we were to spend the first night. I had never before driven in a country where you drove on the left (I have since done that many times, in many places), I was completely sleep deprived, and I was over confident. That is, I was over confident until we hit our first roundabout and everything seemed wrong to me. How we made it to Cambridge in one piece is a miracle that can only be attributed to whatever or whomever you attribute miracles. I remember at one time being so tired that I had to pull over to the side of the road and close my eyes before continuing. But I did recover and we did get to Cambridge. (That trip took us up to the tippy-top of Scotland, near John o’Groats (is that right?) before settling down for several days in London at the end. I think that was 1978.

And then there was the family trip to Cornwall – Penzance and all that (no pirates visible, but we did find Jews Street leading to the harbor). Seemed like it would be a relatively easy drive, although lengthy, but it was August 1, a bank holiday and the start of Britain’s vacation week. Who knew? It took forever in bumper to bumper (do they call them bumpers in England? Probably not) to get to the southwest. There is a lot to remember about that trip – maybe I will talk about it, including the famous Hessel victory in the local trivial pursuit contest.

And there were several family trips to England when the kids were younger, one where we were joined by my sister. On those trips, we saw all the sights, we tried many restaurants, and we went to a lot of theater. Excuse me, a lot of theatre.

But most of all, I remember my first trip to London in 1962. It was the start of a three month trip across Europe with three of my college friends (they are all still friends), and we were 19 (80 is to 2023, as 19 is to 1962). I had never been out of the United States and was both excited and in a state of disbelief as we boarded the BOAC Harvard charter flight to Heathrow. Not a jet, stewards and not stewardesses – all with British accents (how cool was that?) – and none of them caring how old you were when they were serving free drinks. I think I had three scotches as we crossed the Atlantic.

Heathrow had just opened a new terminal (now called Terminal 3, it was first called the Ocean Terminal) in late 1961. It was quite modern for 1962, and a big surprise to me. It shattered my ideas on what England would be like. I thought everything would be, I think, Dickensian. But then as we entered Victoria Station (again, going by memory here) on a train from the airport, merry olde England came into view. And London in 1962 was much different then from what it is today. When I say much different, I really mean extraordinarily much different. Central London was filled with business men in striped suits, bowler hats (or are they derby hats?), shiny shoes and walking sticks. Then there were those who were not businessmen, who looked like they had slept in the same clothes for weeks and weeks and, yes, there were the “mods”. And the women? My memory of them is even more stereotypical. I remember the women as all having light brown hair, pale and round faces, blue eyes, very red lips and long dresses. Anyone who looked or dressed differently was clearly a tourist.

I remember many, but not all, of the things we did that week in London in 1962. The bed and breakfast in a stone fronted row house near Victoria Station, where the beds were so soft and fluffy that I thought the floor would be better, the bathroom down the hall where the toilet was flushed by pulling a cord from the ceiling and the pay-as-you go heater on the wall in the room. The breakfasts were very good – eggs with very orange yolks, corn flakes (always corn flakes) and toast sitting up in a slotted silver toast dish, which must have a name.

We didn’t the queen but we saw her guard changing and all the important buildings and many of the museums, including the Tate and the National Gallery. We went to a London Philharmonic Prom concert where Henryk Szeryng was the violin soloist and we all had to stand up. I saw The Mousetrap for the first time. We ate at a number of not-so-good restaurants, including one at the Hotel Montana (the name interested me), and at Wimpy’s and at the Lyon Corner House (even then the oldest restaurant in London). We spent a lot of time in parks, and did listen to some orators at Hyde Park corner. And I did keep a diary which I should check to see what I have forgotten.

Enough of nostalgia. I figure I have been to London six or seven times over my life, and to Heathrow several more. Six or seven times sounds like a lot, but when your travel life has extended now over 60 years, it means about once a decade. Shame on me. I should have gone there more often. I think London is the greatest.

Answer: They don’t have their own army and rely on good faith, tradition, fear and the Executive Branch of the government to make sure their decisions are followed. This is certainly the case in the United States.

Usually, this question doesn’t arise. When it does, it often brings up the concept of a “constitutional crisis”.

At least in recent (well, relatively recent) memory, this has happened only in the late 1950s and early 1960s. When the Supreme Court decided in Brown v. Board that schools should be integrated and a number of southern governors stated that they were going to ignore the decision. When it became clear that the governor’s were serious, the federal government did what it had to do to enforce the order of the court. It didn’t send in the clowns, it sent in the troops to order the clowns to enforce the decision of the Court. (Whether, it was ultimately successful is for another day.) And their task was relatively easy, so to speak. “Let these kids walk through that door.”

Now, we might be faced with another crisis. The states whose voting practices had been subject to the broad Voting Rights Act are now, since the Republicans and the Court decimated the Act, out of compliance practice. They thought the Act, like Reconstruction, was an artifact of the past.

But lo and behold, when the latest Alabama redistricting map was challenged, and when that challenge rose to the Supreme Court, the Court surprised everyone by ruling 5-4 in favor of the challengers. The Court decided that Alabama must redraw its map to provide for a second black majority district.

Like the southern governors of 75 years ago, the Alabama legislature refused to comply.

Now, what is going to happen? You can’t move the military in and order the legislature to redraw its map, can you?

Are their other remedies open to the federal government? If so, what? Lock out the legislature? Refuse to seat the AL representatives in Congress? Tell the people of Alabama they can’t vote? Take away federal benefits? And how would these be received? And will the Biden administration do anything and, if they do (or if they don’t), what will be the political reaction?

I haven’t yet seen it discussed in this manner, but……do we have a Constitutional crisis?

Later this week, we fly to Portugal, for our first international flight since 2019, when we went to northern Italy for two weeks. In fact, since that trip, in September 2019, we had not been on an airplane of any type until our round trip flight to St. Louis early last month. Those flights went smoothly, but the process of checking in, checking out, checking in, checking out, checking was so different than what had become our vacation practice (getting in the car and turning the key – or pushing that starter button) that I did write a post about it the next day.

This time, it will be even more complicated, in that we are flying with one of our daughters and her family, including her two and one half year old son. And of course, we aren’t taking a two hour flight to St. Louis in the middle of the day, but an overnight flight to London and, following a couple of hours at Heathrow, a two and a half hour flight to Lisbon, followed by a 90 minute drive to our first destination. We hope the flights are on time, the entry into Portugal is not difficult, and the fellow who is to meet us at the airport Starbucks (an old Portuguese company, I am sure) will in fact be there with his “Hessel” sign and large van. And we hope that our luggage accompanies us all along the way. And we hope that some of us (the younger ones especially) get to sleep on the 7 hour flight to England.

The good news is that the hot European summer does not seem to be affecting Portugal – the highs during the time we are in the country should be between the upper 70s and lower 80s, with no rain. We are spending the first week with both of our daughters and their families (the other daughter in fact is flying to Lisbon this Sunday to get a little extra beach time in on the Algarve) in a large house in Foz do Arehlo, about half way up the coast. I just checked the weather there now (about 6 p.m.) and it is 71. Fahrenheit.

Then we are spending four or five days in a condo in Lisbon owned by a friend who has graciously given us a key (not yet) and promised us the sheets will be clean. This will just be four of us (except for the first night). On the 9th, we fly home, this time going directly to Philadelphia and then a quick hop to National Airport.

The condo is in a close in residential neighborhood where there are a lot of restaurants and parks, and where the terrain is relatively flat. We won’t have a car there, so Uber and trolley it will be. The bad news in Lisbon is that it is International Catholic Youth Day (it’s called something like that) and it attracts thousands and thousands and thousands of young folk, and one Pope, so Lisbon may be in a state of standstill. We shall find out.

No one in our group but me have ever been to Portugal, and I haven’t been there for 51 years. I assume I will no longer see farmers taking their crops to market in primitive carts pulled by oxen, and I will no longer see women walking by the side of the road with goods they are carrying piled on their heads, and that every woman over the age of 50 won’t be wearing long black mourning clothes. I assume that the historic part of Lisbon will be just as attractive, that the views from the city over the Tagus will be just as breathtaking, and that once again I may miss Sintra.

I assume that the fishermen in Nazare will not be as picaresque, and that I will no longer be chased by a very angry dog in Obidos. I will also miss the Algarve, where the church bells at Albuferia kept me up all night, where the hotel desk staff asked me if I wanted to play soccer (futball) with them on the beach, where I got to see Prince Henry’s Navigation School and where I woke up in a hotel overlooking the Atlantic where all I could see out of my window was the Atlantic.

I am looking forward to the food – I will try not to replicate the day I decided to taste too many different varieties of port – I will try not to speak Spanish to the Portuguese again (although my Spanish and Portuguese are equally non-existent) – and I hope I won’t meet an old Nazi on the beach as I did 51 years ago.

Whatever happens – you will probably hear about it.

What does the phrase “the rule of law” mean? Does it mean that “law” is what sets the rules, or does it mean that “law” is itself made up of rules? Well, that’s a question that you have probably never thought of. I haven’t until I wrote this headline. And I’m not going to answer it. Let’s keep the phrase ambiguous.

But what is clear is that both the United States and Israel claim to be governed by the rule of law. From that, perhaps, one could conclude that the question about the meaning of the phrase should be ignored not because of the ambiguity of the word “rule”, but because the phrase overall has no meaning. Clearly, the definitions are different in these two quite different countries.

In both countries, there are ongoing debates (to put it mildly) both about the role of the Supreme Courts in determining case law, and about the selection process used to appoint Supreme Court justices. Let’s parse a few of today’s issues.

(1) How should Supreme Court justices be selected? In the United States, we take for granted that this should be a political decision. The president nominates a justice, and 51 senators must approve the selection. As presidents now tend to nominate not consensus seeking candidates (the kind that used to be approved by a unanimous Senate), but candidates who reflect their party’s thinking, it goes without saying that pre-consent hearings in the Sentate will be dominated by controversy and votes will be largely on partisan lines. This leads to a politicized court, as we all too well know. But the system itself cannot be changed without Constitutional amendment, which we know will not be happening.

In Israel, on the other hand, there is no Constitution, so presumably the system can be changed simply by legislative vote. This is what is now threatened in Israel, where the current right wing government is the most extreme government is the country’s history of extreme governments.

Although the change of the selection process in Israel is on hold for the present, the proposals would make serious changes in the selection process. Now there is a selection committee comprised of representatives of the court itself, the Israel Bar Association and various others, as well as representatives of the government. Although the government has veto power (maybe never exercised, I don’t know), it does not have selection power. The proposed change would put the government fully in charge of the selection of justices, thus politicizing the Court.

The argument for this is that the government has been elected, but that the justices have not been elected, and have not even been selected by elected officials. Thus, this fully unelected body is able to overturn laws passed by the elected government. The argument against the change is that there need to be a balance of power to make sure that extreme governments don’t do extreme things.

Israel is very polarized today, and the opponents of the change have taken to the streets in unending protests and demonstrations, all theoretically permitted under Israeli democratic law.

(2) What are the standards used by the Court to determine the validity of laws passed by the legislature?

In the United States, of course, the standard is whether or not the law is permitted under the Constitution. “Great”, you may say, “we have a standard” but of course no one really knows what the Constitution really says. What we do know is that, in the game of governmental rock, paper or scissors, the Court always wins over the Legislature or the Executive.

This is not so clear in Israel, although until today there too the other governmental officials have bowed to the decision of the Supreme Court. But there is no Constitution to serve as a guide to the Court, although there is a set of what are known in Israel as basic laws which some (but not all) define as virtually equivalent to a Constitution. But that’s another story for another day.

(3) Israel is setting itself up for a constitutional crisis. Here in the United States, we always seemed to be threatened with constitutional crises which fall by the wayside, but in Israel – where there is no constitution – a constitutional crisis (or its equivalent) seems inevitable.

This is because of the “reasonableness” legislation, passed by the relevant Knesset committee, and now on its way to the first Knesset vote. Up until now, one of the standards used by the Israeli Supreme Court in reviewing legislation, is whether the legislation passes a “reasonableness” test. The definition of “reasonableness” is less certain than the definition of “rule”.

It is likely that the law will pass. It is equally likely that the protests will continue. And here is the dilemma: if the Knesset passes a law to eliminate the Court’s use of the “reasonable test”, and if someone brings a case before the Court challenging that law’s legitimacy on the basis of the “reasonableness” test, what will the Court do? Will it strike down the law, saying it is unreasonable? Possibly. And if so…..what next?

(4) There are other standards to think about. For one thing, in the United States, as you know, Supreme Court justices have lifetime appointments. This is unique worldwide but, again, a function of our Constitution. In Israel, there are both term limits and a mandatory retirement age; this is consistent with virtually every other country in the world.

For another thing, in the United States, as you know as we have already said, the Court can overturn laws based on presumed unconstitutionality. In Israel, as you now know, laws can currently be overturned on the basis of reasonableness. But in some countries, laws of the parliament cannot be overturned at all. In the U.K., for example, there is the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty. No court in England, Scotland, Wales or North Ireland can overturn a law passed by the parliament. In Canada, while laws of the parliament can be voided by the Court, the Canadian parliament can overturn the ruling of the Court (subject to certain limitations). In continental Europe and elsewhere, there are varying formulas governing the scope of the court’s authority. In Israel today, the governing coalition wants to limit the ability of the Supreme Court to overturn a law passed by the Knesset. This is also on hold, while the Knesset deals with “reasonableness” first.

All of this goes to show……what? That the “rule of law” is a very fragile thing. In fact, the rule of law may really be not only ambiguous, but imaginary.

I watched a good part of the hearings yesterday by the House Oversight Committee with the two IRS employees who claim that the DOJ deal with Hunter Biden shows that he was treated differently from the way others would be, that there were unanimous recommendations for felony indictments, and that these recommendations were ignored. Their testimony included some details about Hunter Biden’s tax filings, where it appears that he took as business deductions charges that were related to a sex club membership and prostitution charges, as well as evidence that (1) large sums were received from foreign sources, including about 6.5 million dollars from Burisma (the Ukrainian oil company), and that these sums were passed through to various shell companies created by Biden, and (2) that at least one particular transfer of $400,000, which was treated by the company which paid the funds as a deductible business expense, was treated by Biden as a loan with no income tax consequences, even though there was no evidence that it was ever considered to be a loan.

On the other hand, there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of Joe Biden’s involvement – not that he received any funds, not that he knew any of these details, and not that he influenced the Justice Department. There is also no such evidence involving Attorney General Garland’s involvement, or any other involvement of higher officials directing Delaware U.S. Attorney David Weiss (a Trump appointee for what that may be worth) to give special treatment to Hunter Biden.

I have no idea what Hunter Biden was really doing, but I certainly assume it was far from aboveboard either financially or ethically. Unless it involved the president or the attorney general, I guess I don’t really care. I also don’t know whether U.S. Attorney Weiss was directed to be kind to Hunter Biden by refraining from charging him with more serious crimes and with letter certain statutes of limitation expire, and if so, by whom, and I think this is worth exploring. I think that Weiss will also be testifying before this committee.

But I do object to the Republican committee members who don’t stick to the subject of the hearing and instead rail against the corruption of the president and the “entire Biden crime family”, who assume that as vice-president Biden gave certain Ukrainians funds they otherwise would not have received had they not paid Hunter Biden, and that there is a general Biden family conspiracy to get rich and hide everything from the public. There is no evidence to support this at this time, the hearing was not about this, and their grandstanding was inappropriate.

As to the two witnesses, I should say how much I appreciate their testimony and how convinced I am of their integrity and seriousness. Becoming a whistleblower in the middle of their very successful federal careers is extraordinarily brave. Especially, Joseph Ziegler, who is a Democrat, a gay man, and a man married to another man. He said that he was originally an anonymous source because he was afraid to name himself, because he knew there would be attacks because of his sexual preferences, and that making the decision to expose his name was as hard as when he came out as gay and married. There have been attacks on him, apparently, saying that he was a Democratic “plant” in the Hunter Biden investigation, something that is obviously silly. But there are those, of course, who take this sort of thing seriously, and there will most likely be repercussions. This is very sad.

Their testimony, which is simply that they don’t understand how Hunter Biden was let off so easily under the circumstances unless their was inappropriate direction from above. They do not claim to know what direction there was, and where it came from, but believe the situation is unusual enough that Congress should be looking into it. I have no problem with that.

On a more serious note………..I must admit to knowing little about this, but I saw (out of the corner of my eye while I was doing something else this morning) that Ted Cruz is very upset because he believes the new Barbie movie is chock full of Communist Chinese propaganda. If so, this is probably the most scandalous thing that has happened this century and will undoubtedly give us something to think about as the summer winds to an end.

And finally, I end with a question. Have you ever seen the most unlikable crossword puzzle than the one in this morning’s New York Times? Really.

It’s about 10:30 a.m., and we are supposed to be on our way to Rockville, to a title company, to sign the documents to sell a condo we own (and that Michelle used to live in). But two days ago, the buyer announced that he was defaulting (something about the conditions his lender put on his loan), so we are home instead. Hopefully, there will not be a delay in getting his good faith deposit released to us (after all, “good faith”, right?), and it will help us cover condo fees and taxes while we remarket. Want a nice, roomy 9th floor one bedroom in Grosvenor III just outside the Beltway? Let me know.

But this will give me a chance to see Israeli President Herzog address the U.S. Congress at 11. I have been a fan of Herzog for a long time – he is bright, reasonable, and easy going. His father, Chaim Herzog, was a high ranking Israeli official for years (and also a former Israeli president) and his grandfather was the Chief Rabbi of Ireland. Yes, Ireland. The Israeli presidency is largely ceremonial, but Herzog has been trying to strengthen the role of that office by acting as a mediator in the dispute between the Israeli right wing (now in power) and the Israeli center and left (now demonstrating in the streets). He has had some, but not enough, success in this role, and it will be interesting to hear what he has today this morning.

Interesting article in the Wall Street Journal about working from home vs. working back at the office. The Journal reports (and it isn’t really surprising, I guess) that bosses might want their work force back in the office, but that they want to continue working from home (or from the beach or the mountains, I guess). No surprise there.

And Russia? Russia is again cutting off Ukraine’s ability to export grain, which not only hurts the Ukrainian economy, but the large part of the world (including much of Africa) that depends on Ukrainian grain. And, Russia is bombing Odessa, the port from which most of the grain leaves the country.

And this brings up the old question. What is the end game of Ukraine and NATO? Russia can continue to do what they are doing for years, can’t they? And Ukraine still has one (at least one) arm tied behind its back, as NATO is afraid (reasonably enough) to get into a war with nuclear powered Russia. And as to the other nuclear powers, like China and North Korea and Pakistan and India – who knows where they really stand? And Putin is no Roseanne Roseannadanna. He is not going to pull out with a “nevermind” [Nevazhno in Russian]. So what is the end game? How much in money and weaponry can be sent to Kiev? And how will the west reconcile to a war end that has part of historic (well, not really) Ukraine inside the Russian Federation?

Back to the mundane. Last evening, we picked up both of our grandchildren (ages 2 and 8) from their day camps and drove them home. This is quite a venture – it’s a little over a mile to our first stop, then almost seven miles to our second, another 8 miles to their house and another 6 back to ours. That’s a 22 mile urban, rush hour drive. So it’s not surprising that we have (once a week, more or less – actually, it hasn’t been more) decided to stop for dinner on the way home. We thought it would be a relaxing break (it is) and, as I have said before, the only rule is that we select restaurants which are new to us.

Actually, there’s a second rule. There has to be parking close by, and sometimes it’s the parking, not the restaurant itself, that controls our choice. Last night, we wound up in Adams Morgan, where we found a very nice parking space waiting for us on 18th street, on a block just south of the main stretch of commercial 18th where there are two restaurants, neither of which we knew anything about.

The first one is called The Green Zone (named after the section of Baghdad which, during the American occupation, housed the Iraqi and American governments, as well as many embassies of other countries, and was deemed to be safe (until it wasn’t) in the chaos that was Baghdad. The Green Zone sign is in English and Arabic, and there is a large outdoor eating space, which was pretty well filled. We walked to the door, where we were greeted by a young woman who did not look like she worked there, but in fact did, who said to us: “I need to check your IDs.” She told us that was restaurant policy. The young man who came up to the door right behind us rolled his eyes, but wasn’t at all surprised when I told him it happened to me everywhere we went. The door lady told us that inside was first come, first served, and outside there were no tables; in fact, the next free table outside would be available at 9 p.m. It was about 7 at the time. I went inside and found thousands of people (average age 21 years, 3 days) milling around the bar and only two (filled) tables. I went upstairs and found thousands of people (average age 21 years, 3 days) milling around the bar and only two (filled) tables. It was clear this very crowded, under-chaired and under-tabled facility was not for us. It also looked like for someone 21 years and 3 days old, it was just the place. So we thanked our ID-checker and left.

Looking later at its menu, I see that the Green Door specializes in drinks with colorful names (such as the F–k Trump, consisting of rum, mezcal, vimto and lemon and describes it self as a “furious Asian-Mexican resistance fusion” and comes with the sobriquet “May he disappear from history and never return”), and that its Middle Eastern food menu is secondary at best.

The restaurant Soussi next door to the Green Rome looked a bit different – i.e., it looked pretty empty. It was dark inside with a bar and few tables (also seemed to have a second floor), and had a large covered patio – the corner of 18th and Kalorama Streets. Without even looking at the menu or the place very carefully, we went in and were escorted to an outside table. There were at the time only two other tables with customers. One had a couple and their relatively large and relatively unattractive dog, and the other a single man. Strangely, for a restaurant anywhere these days, the lone man was sitting with his food, his laptop and a cigarette.

Another couple came onto the patio, sat down and then, again to my surprise, I saw the waiter come onto the patio and give the couple a hookah. We had stepped not into a normal restaurant, but into a restaurant/hookah bar. We then looked at the menu and saw we had entered into a Moroccan restaurant/hookah bar. A few other people wandered onto the patio. One other hookah was brought out.

We are not fans of hookah bars, or any other form of smoking, to say the least, so we wondered if once again we were to become the wandering Jews of Adams Morgan. But lo and behold, the smoke from both of the hookah bars, blew out on to the street away from us. Accident, or the way the ceiling fans were set up? We weren’t sure. But we were safe.

So we ordered dinner – I got a simple meal of chicken and green and red peppers on two skewers (“with Moroccan spices”) and rice, and Edie got vegetable couscous. Our expectations were, oh so low. But surprise!! The food was quite good. Actually, more like quite good plus. And, with a drink each (no, not a “F–k Trump”), the bill was about $40.

OK, that’s all for today. Pres. Herzog is about to speak.

This is not my first try at a blog. I have had blogs previously, but they have all fizzled out. We will see what happens to this one. Looking back at my 2005 blog, I thought there might be some old posts worth re-publishing. Here goes one:

“Some years ago, Edie and I went to Houston. We went to see an exhibit of impressionist art from the Hermitage, which was at the fine arts museum, and we went because we hadn’t been there before. [We have been there a few times since then] We were pleasantly surprised at what a good tourist city Houston is; terrific world class museums, the Johnson Space Center, Galveston Island, good food, and a cousin we get to see rarely. [Sadly, she has since passed away] But the trip was flawed. Wanting to stay at an upscale hotel, we chose the St. Regis. It was very elegant and well located for touring, but it sits very close to a train track at a grade crossing, and the blare of the train’s siren kept us awake through most of the four nights we were in town. We wondered (still do) how the hotel manages, although a clerk told us simply “Some people don’t seem to mind”.

“We vowed never to let that happen again.

“But only about six months later, we found ourselves in the Theodore Roosevelt Badlands in Madera, North Dakota, staying at one of the spartan lodges run by the government. No sooner had we got in bed, but a familiar sound rang through the air, even louder and sharper than in Houston. This time, the grade crossing was only about 100 yards away from our first floor room. We left the next morning, moving to a nice motel in Dickinson ND, about 40 miles away.

“We vowed again.

“Yet here we were, earlier this week, at the central city Holiday Inn in Columbia SC, when, to our surprise, throughout the night, the blare of a train at a grade crossing woke (at least me) up the first of our two nights there, from 3:30 a.m. until about 7 in the morning. I counted nine trains.

“It got me thinking about other noisy disturbances at hotels that I have encountered, and it brought to mind the following:

“(1) Church bells in Albuferia, Portugal, in 1972, where the church chimed hourly throughout the night and, because of the geography of the town, my room was on an exact plane with the belfry, which was probably no more than 200 feet away. I left the room in the middle of the night to find another place. And then there were the church bells in Erie PA, where at least they don’t start ringing them on a Sunday morning until about 6 a.m., but once they started they kept going, very deep and resonant sounds, every 15 minutes. This was September 1960.

“(2) Parties and night spots. I remember our first night in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in February 1977, when the hotel’s night club sounded like it would never stop. And somewhere in Scotland in 1978, when a party was so loud that, like in Portugal, an alternative was sought out in the middle of the night.

“(3) Ship whistles. If you want to camp in Bremerhaven, Germany, don’t select the campground (it’s probably not still there) that my friends and I selected in 1962. It’s right across the Weser River from the port, and I can’t believe that any campers there ever close their eyes.

“(4) Noisy neighbors. Noises from the room next door can be all too common, from the raucous teenage party in the room next door somewhere in Pennsylvania Dutch country, to incessant and noisy lovemaking in San Juan PR and Shepardstown WV, to the noising drunk in Leningrad in 1972, to the man practicing his Torah portion over and over and over and over again in Westchester County NY.”

[In case you were wondering, now that I am 80, I don’t really need these noisy disruptions to keep from sleeping soundly. I have finally figured out how to do it all on my own.]

We started this morning at the 7:30 a.m. minyan at Adas Israel. It is the 38th yahrzeit of Edie’s father. His death, followed in relatively short order by my mother’s and Edie’s mother, marked the 1980s in our house. My father beat them all, passing away in 1979, just about two months before Michelle was born.

There were about 20 people at the minyan today, and another 12 or so on Zoom, most saying kaddish for a parent. And, of course it got me thinking about Jewish things.

And then about Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. Remember the old saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Well, either this old saying is completely off base, or RKJ Jr is the exception who proves the rule. It doesn’t really matter which one it is.

Robert Jr. wants to be president of the United States, and something like 10% of the Democrats say that they will vote for him. It’s important to know what a presidential candidate thinks about things, right? We know that Robert Kennedy Jr. didn’t think much of the efficacy of COVID vaccines – he has been saying that for a few years now. But now, we learn that he believes that the disease itself, the virus which causes it, may have been not only artificially created, but purposefully created to infect the entire world. Only two groups have been made relatively immune to COVID, he says (of course he is even wrong statistically, but leave that aside), the Chinese and Ashkenazic Jews. Not all Jews, just those with Central and Eastern European ancestry. I guess that means that the Jews controlled the Wuhan laboratory, and – using Chinese labor – designed a vaccine to consolidate world control. Perhaps they did this under the auspices of the Elders of Zion, working hand in hand with the Chinese Communist Party (and probably also that undercover Ashkenazic Jew, Anthony Fauci – originally Fauchinsky).

(As an aside, I am not sure what proof RFKjr has, but I could add something to his collection: a number of years ago, at an annual meeting of the Board of Governors of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, author Amos Oz gave a talk during which he mentioned his first trip to China, recently completed. He was astounded at the warmth of the reception he had as he made appearances at various Chinese universities. And he told the audience in Bet Sheva that he realized for the first time that if the Jews and Chinese combined their forces, there would be over a billion of them.)

Back to Bobby Jr. Are any of you old enough to remember the Black Death in Europe? Remember the Bobby Juniors of those days, who said the Jews designed the Black Death in such a way that they were not affected, only every one else? I guess we are hearkening back to the Middle Ages. And if you add the COVID vaccine and MTG’s Jewish space lasers, and the accusation that Democratic leftists are all acolytes of Saul Alinsky, and the conclusion that everyone the Republicans don’t like is being funded by George Soros, I guess we Jews know where we stand, huh?

Let’s try two more old sayings: (1) Those who don’t know history are bound to repeat it, and (2) Those who know history are bound to repeat it. Yes, opposites do more than attract; they assert truth.

I started this post by thinking I was going to talk about crypto-Jews. Not those in New Mexico and sub-Saharan Africa. I was thinking about some others. Which lead me to one of the precepts that I live by: everyone is presumed Jewish, until proven otherwise. Robert Kennedy Jr and Marjorie Taylor Greene are not Jewish. For sure.

Back to crypto-Jews and my tour through my Penguin paperbacks.

I am currently reading Andre Maurois’ very enjoyable biography of British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli. Now Disraeli was baptized as a child (both parents were Jewish but his mother was a major assimilationist). But he never denied his Judaism, so we count him as Jewish. But what about that crypto-Jew Andre Maurois? Yes, Maurois was French (born in France), but his birth name was Emile Solomon Herzog? His family was Alsatian Jewish, his mother a Levy, and he didn’t change his name legally until he was over 60. I don’t know the full story.

Before starting “Disraeli”, I was reading a book by British art critic Eric Newton called “European Painting and Sculpture”, a surprisingly interesting analysis of not only the history of European art, but also of the artistic “process”. Newton was a very well known critic and an Oxford Professor of Fine Arts. But who knew that he was born (and raised) Eric Oppenheimer, and he changed his name during the first World War to something that sounded less German?

Like Benjamin Disraeli, Newton’s grandparents had emigrated to Great Britain from Germany. His father was a well known mosaic artist, and was killed when gassed by the German during World War I.

I’d like to tell you some of the interesting things Newton pointed out in the book I read, but I don’t want Edie once again telling me that my post is too long. Maybe some other time.

By the way, Ogden Nash never talked about Jews in the News, but he did say: “How odd of God…..to choose the Jews”. But that’s another story.