Today I had a lot of time to think while I was driving (and watching for moose). I also had a lot of time to listen to NPR and hear the same stories over and over. One show focused on the new book titled Beyond Tolerance. In some part of the discussion, a caller referenced the possibility of a nuclear strike from a "rogue" state.....or maybe it was the incapacity of North Korean leader Kim Jong Il and the chaos which may ensue if he dies, and what would happen to their nuclear capability that prompted my line of thinking. In any case, what occurred to me is that one who is a "maverick," defined by online dictionary.com as "One that refuses to abide by the dictates of or resists adherence to a group; a dissenter" might also be considered to be a "rogue," defined as "no longer obedient, belonging, or accepted and hence not controllable or answerable; deviating, renegade: a rogue cop."
We're very worried about nuclear technology falling into the hands of a "rogue" government. I wonder if the rest of the world is worried about the possibility that the U.S. may elect two top leaders who are touting themselves as "mavericks." If they're so all-fired likely to "stand up" to their party, and they have the lock on what is "good" versus what is "evil," then who will control them? I think we've come very close to a rogue president in George Bush - he seems to think he is only answerable to God - and we cannot afford to have the next President and V.P. so far outside the mainstream of American history and philosophy that they don't understand the separation of church and state; they don't understand that just because they think something is true doesn't mean it is; they don't understand that until Bush II, we have never pre-emptively struck at another nation. In a democracy, mavericks have no business being at the head of government. Our government is allegedly government of the people, by the people and for the people. That seems to have escaped them so far.
Charlie Gibson's interview with Sarah Palin tonight did nothing to allay my fears. She clearly didn't know what was meant by the "Bush Doctrine," and she was able to say with a straight face, that because she was able to see Russia from her state that she somehow had foreign policy experience. She also can't pronounce the word nuclear, choosing instead, the Bush pronunciation, "nuculer." UGH. When asked about her understanding of national security issues, she talked about her work in Alaska on energy matters. I can only hope that she firmly plants her foot in her mouth during her debate with Joe Biden.
And could she get a real hair do??
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Are we a nation of sheep???
I know I live in a bubble of educated, liberal people here in the Seacoast of NH. And I remember traveling to Keokuk, Iowa in 1992 and realizing just how differently people think in "the heartland" of this country. That said, the polls tonight showing McCain and Obama neck and neck make be sick to my stomach.
How is it that the McC/P. campaign has pre-empted the message of change? How is it that they are now the more "experienced" ticket? How is it they are drawing crowds of thousands? How is it possible that the people out of work, losing their homes, and unable to pay for health care could turn to the Republican party, the folks who believe in Social Darwinism, small government and lack of regulation???
And how can the Republicans themselves pretend that they believe in a free market society while they jump in to "save" Bear Stearns, Freddie and Fannie et al. at taxpayers' expense??? (I do understand that it may be necessary to "save" these institutions so as to continue to help people buy homes and get mortgages, but the question is still out there as to how these corporations were allowed to get so big and be so unregulated).
And just what is a "hockey mom?" Someone who drives her kid to hockey and goes to watch his/her games, right? I did that in my past. (Field hockey, that is). Does that qualify me to be Vice President?? Does being a prisoner of war qualify a person to be President? Last time around, they elected the candidate they'd rather have a beer with. This time, it's the candidate they will want to go out into the duck blind with. Give me a BREAK! Let's hope she's a better shot than Dick Cheney.....
There's no question in my mind that those of us who can't stomach the idea of 4 more years of the Bush/Cheney expansion of presidential power had better get out and work our tails off for Obama/Biden. Talk to your friends, talk to your acquaintances, talk to your nearest and dearest. We need everyone to counteract the media juggernaut which is bound and determined to choose the winner for us. That will be baaaaa-d.
How is it that the McC/P. campaign has pre-empted the message of change? How is it that they are now the more "experienced" ticket? How is it they are drawing crowds of thousands? How is it possible that the people out of work, losing their homes, and unable to pay for health care could turn to the Republican party, the folks who believe in Social Darwinism, small government and lack of regulation???
And how can the Republicans themselves pretend that they believe in a free market society while they jump in to "save" Bear Stearns, Freddie and Fannie et al. at taxpayers' expense??? (I do understand that it may be necessary to "save" these institutions so as to continue to help people buy homes and get mortgages, but the question is still out there as to how these corporations were allowed to get so big and be so unregulated).
And just what is a "hockey mom?" Someone who drives her kid to hockey and goes to watch his/her games, right? I did that in my past. (Field hockey, that is). Does that qualify me to be Vice President?? Does being a prisoner of war qualify a person to be President? Last time around, they elected the candidate they'd rather have a beer with. This time, it's the candidate they will want to go out into the duck blind with. Give me a BREAK! Let's hope she's a better shot than Dick Cheney.....
There's no question in my mind that those of us who can't stomach the idea of 4 more years of the Bush/Cheney expansion of presidential power had better get out and work our tails off for Obama/Biden. Talk to your friends, talk to your acquaintances, talk to your nearest and dearest. We need everyone to counteract the media juggernaut which is bound and determined to choose the winner for us. That will be baaaaa-d.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Things that make no sense
So yesterday, in an attempt to be ready to go to Italy on the 17th, I called Chase Bank to let them know the dates I would be in Italy (so they wouldn't block my credit card thinking it was being used fraudulently)and to get a PIN number for said credit card so I could use it as an ATM card to buy Euros. Well, silly me. Of course I couldn't get a live person on the line, so I couldn't share the dates. I could access a place to get a PIN number, and the electronic voice told me they would mail it to me, which would take 7 - 10 days.
Step Two. I activate a replacement card for one I've had for 20 some years and which had expired in March. Then, I call customer service and DO get a live person whom I notify of my travel dates. Then I ask for a PIN number and she sends me to an 800 number. I hang up and call the 800 number. When asked to enter the last 4 digits of the card, I do. The electronic message back is that it is an invalid account. Back to customer service person number two. She tells me I should have entered the last 4 digits on the MASTER CARD which accesses the same account. I tell her I haven't activated the Master Card, because I never use it, so why would that account number work. She says it just does. She proceeds to try it. Invalid account. I suggest that maybe it's just because I had only moments before activated my new card. She doesn't think so and tries again. No soap. So....she suggests that they mail me a PIN number, which will take 5 - 7 days. I say thanks, and hang up, figuring that my best bet is to take some Euros with me and then use my ATM Visa card which accesses my checking account at the Federal Credit Union to change money in Italy.
Step Three: I try to buy Euros. I call Ocean Bank in Durham. Do I have an account with them? No. Sorry, they can't sell me Euros. I walk into TD Banknorth in Dover, where I have a $50,000 equity line of credit. Yes, they sell Euros, do I have an account? Yes, I have the above account. Wait a minute, I have to ask my Manager. Gee, no, I'm sorry, you have to have a checking or savings account or we can't sell you Euros. What? I have a $50,000 line of credit and I can't write a check to buy $200.00 worth of Euros? I can write a check for $50,000 to build a new garage, but not a check for Euros.....Sorry ma'am, that's our policy. Would you like to open a checking account?
Step Four: Stop at Citizens Bank, where I am joint owner of a CD with my mother and a signatory on her checking account. May I buy Euros. YES!! Do they have some? NO....it will take 7 - 10 days to order them for me.......But the good news is, the Portsmouth Branch has Euros, but the bad news is, that by the time I drive to Portsmouth, they will be closed.
Fortunately, I did all this Euro shopping after Yoga, so I just did some deep breathing, and drove on home. Monday will be another opportunity to try this again.
OHMMMMMMMMMMM
Step Two. I activate a replacement card for one I've had for 20 some years and which had expired in March. Then, I call customer service and DO get a live person whom I notify of my travel dates. Then I ask for a PIN number and she sends me to an 800 number. I hang up and call the 800 number. When asked to enter the last 4 digits of the card, I do. The electronic message back is that it is an invalid account. Back to customer service person number two. She tells me I should have entered the last 4 digits on the MASTER CARD which accesses the same account. I tell her I haven't activated the Master Card, because I never use it, so why would that account number work. She says it just does. She proceeds to try it. Invalid account. I suggest that maybe it's just because I had only moments before activated my new card. She doesn't think so and tries again. No soap. So....she suggests that they mail me a PIN number, which will take 5 - 7 days. I say thanks, and hang up, figuring that my best bet is to take some Euros with me and then use my ATM Visa card which accesses my checking account at the Federal Credit Union to change money in Italy.
Step Three: I try to buy Euros. I call Ocean Bank in Durham. Do I have an account with them? No. Sorry, they can't sell me Euros. I walk into TD Banknorth in Dover, where I have a $50,000 equity line of credit. Yes, they sell Euros, do I have an account? Yes, I have the above account. Wait a minute, I have to ask my Manager. Gee, no, I'm sorry, you have to have a checking or savings account or we can't sell you Euros. What? I have a $50,000 line of credit and I can't write a check to buy $200.00 worth of Euros? I can write a check for $50,000 to build a new garage, but not a check for Euros.....Sorry ma'am, that's our policy. Would you like to open a checking account?
Step Four: Stop at Citizens Bank, where I am joint owner of a CD with my mother and a signatory on her checking account. May I buy Euros. YES!! Do they have some? NO....it will take 7 - 10 days to order them for me.......But the good news is, the Portsmouth Branch has Euros, but the bad news is, that by the time I drive to Portsmouth, they will be closed.
Fortunately, I did all this Euro shopping after Yoga, so I just did some deep breathing, and drove on home. Monday will be another opportunity to try this again.
OHMMMMMMMMMMM
Friday, September 5, 2008
Appealing or Appalling - Sarah Palin
I can't sit back and say nothing. I've been warned by a feminist friend that we shouldn't make sexist comments about Sarah Palin so I'm not going to comment on her beehive hairdo, because I had one of those myself, back in the late 60s, early 70's; I'm not going to comment on the fact that she brought her 4 month old to a large convention hall full of germs, loud noises and bright lights, because it's certainly her right to choose her parenting style. I'm not even going to comment on the apparent failure of the abstinence only approach to family planning, or wonder out loud if Bristol really had a choice in whether or not she would keep the baby.
I will say that for those pundits who think that women who would have voted for Hillary Clinton will now vote for John McCain because Sarah Palin is on the ticket, THEY ARE CRAZY. In Sarah Palin, we have the antithesis of most of what feminism stands for. My first vision of her on the night she was named as the nominee was that the McCain campaign had rented an actress from Saturday Night Live to do some stand-up comedy. That impression was reinforced in her "speech" at the convention a few nights ago. She is the Idaho/Alaska version of Lily Tomlin. She gave some one-liners and zingers at Barack Obama (most of which were patently false) with a cute smile and disingenous look. A look-alike actress has already parodied her in a Youtube video.
Sarah Palin may have "electrified" the convention and the socially conservative base of the Republican Party, but I can't believe that Hillary Democrats find her appealing. She favors the teaching of creationism, drilling in the Arctic Wildlife Refuge, and no control on gun ownership. She is against abortion, even in the case of rape or incest, against stem cell research, and she sees the war in Iraq as a holy war, sanctioned personally by God. In many ways, she out-Bushes Bush. She went to college (4 colleges in 5 years) to become a journalist, but she has trouble sticking to the facts. Most of what she cited as "facts" about the Obama campaign have been fact-checked and proved false. Even her own line about the Bridge to Nowhere isn't true. Congress had begun to rescind the earmark for the bridge before she rejected it.
Overall, I am appalled by her as a choice for Vice President. She is like a cartoon outline of Hillary Clinton, a caricature of a serious candidate for the office of President or Vice President. She may actually qualify to be a rimless zero. And if I hear the word "electrified" one more time connected to her name, I think I may permanently turn off my television.
I will say that for those pundits who think that women who would have voted for Hillary Clinton will now vote for John McCain because Sarah Palin is on the ticket, THEY ARE CRAZY. In Sarah Palin, we have the antithesis of most of what feminism stands for. My first vision of her on the night she was named as the nominee was that the McCain campaign had rented an actress from Saturday Night Live to do some stand-up comedy. That impression was reinforced in her "speech" at the convention a few nights ago. She is the Idaho/Alaska version of Lily Tomlin. She gave some one-liners and zingers at Barack Obama (most of which were patently false) with a cute smile and disingenous look. A look-alike actress has already parodied her in a Youtube video.
Sarah Palin may have "electrified" the convention and the socially conservative base of the Republican Party, but I can't believe that Hillary Democrats find her appealing. She favors the teaching of creationism, drilling in the Arctic Wildlife Refuge, and no control on gun ownership. She is against abortion, even in the case of rape or incest, against stem cell research, and she sees the war in Iraq as a holy war, sanctioned personally by God. In many ways, she out-Bushes Bush. She went to college (4 colleges in 5 years) to become a journalist, but she has trouble sticking to the facts. Most of what she cited as "facts" about the Obama campaign have been fact-checked and proved false. Even her own line about the Bridge to Nowhere isn't true. Congress had begun to rescind the earmark for the bridge before she rejected it.
Overall, I am appalled by her as a choice for Vice President. She is like a cartoon outline of Hillary Clinton, a caricature of a serious candidate for the office of President or Vice President. She may actually qualify to be a rimless zero. And if I hear the word "electrified" one more time connected to her name, I think I may permanently turn off my television.
Cape Cod, July, 2008
Cape Cod Diary
There are so many things to do when you are with friends…..upon arrival yesterday, there was a trip to the beach for swimming in water gloriously warm and reminiscent of the Pacific Coast…..and then a garden tour of lush flowers, zucchini, tomatoes, cucumbers and a chance to sit on the deck and read in the shade of an umbrella…..
Today, after yoga, a picnic on the boat moored off a point where the beach is off limits because of nesting piping plovers, followed by a swim in more gloriously warm salt water, and a chance to fish in salt water, hurling a ridiculous red herring lure out into the water and reeling it in so fast so that it would appear to dance on the water…..and now, back to check out the wardrobe for Italy and then more reading in the novel Frost Falls, which has caught my attention and holds me in its grip like no other book has in a while…..until Pat gives her afternoon piano concert and it is happy hour, and Mike and I sit and listen with our g & t’s beside us. Lobster and corn await us, and an evening of who knows what, and who cares? It’s just so nice to be with people who have been friends for 40 years and who know me as well as I know myself, or perhaps even better!!
Day Two: Today began at 6:30 when we drank some coffee and headed for the beach to dig for soft-shell clams. This involved a short trip in the two person kayak to transport the three clamming rakes, rubber gloves, a wire basket in which to pile the clams, and a can of Off in case the greenheads attacked. After a little more than an hour we had found enough clams to fill the wire basket. This may make it sound easy, but, after the initial euphoria wore off regarding how this scooping of sand and piling it beside the hole was like building drip castles in California eons ago, my knees grew tender and my back was good and tired from hacking into the wet sand with a 3-pronged clam rake. I was a champion at finding clams that were too small to keep and alternatively, driving the tine of the rake through the shell of some that were big enough to keep. We all agreed that if we HAD to do this to gather food to live, we would tire of it quite quickly!
Back home, we all showered and ate breakfast. Then it was off to T.J. Maxx for about 3 hours of shopping ☺ Following a successful ‘spotition, Pat and I ate lunch at a restaurant in Wellfleet with a water view. We got home in time for a brief rest before it was time for “happy hour” and a dinner of fried clams (the ones we smashed by accident) and then a trip to the drive-in for a double feature. Home around midnight!! Whew!
Day Three: No new adventures today – but a chance to read the paper and lie around on a lazy summer morning. Then I cut pieces for 8 quilt blocks. We went to the beach this afternoon and swam in good-sized swells which just made me laugh as they broke over our heads! Again, I felt like a child in California again. We swam against the wind going down the beach and let the swells carry us back to shore as we swam back.
A trip in the red convertible to get ice cream tonight, after a dinner of baked stuffed zucchini out of their garden, and another great day has come to a close. Time to regroup my suitcases and think about driving home tomorrow. Sigh. Vacation is coming to a close.
There are so many things to do when you are with friends…..upon arrival yesterday, there was a trip to the beach for swimming in water gloriously warm and reminiscent of the Pacific Coast…..and then a garden tour of lush flowers, zucchini, tomatoes, cucumbers and a chance to sit on the deck and read in the shade of an umbrella…..
Today, after yoga, a picnic on the boat moored off a point where the beach is off limits because of nesting piping plovers, followed by a swim in more gloriously warm salt water, and a chance to fish in salt water, hurling a ridiculous red herring lure out into the water and reeling it in so fast so that it would appear to dance on the water…..and now, back to check out the wardrobe for Italy and then more reading in the novel Frost Falls, which has caught my attention and holds me in its grip like no other book has in a while…..until Pat gives her afternoon piano concert and it is happy hour, and Mike and I sit and listen with our g & t’s beside us. Lobster and corn await us, and an evening of who knows what, and who cares? It’s just so nice to be with people who have been friends for 40 years and who know me as well as I know myself, or perhaps even better!!
Day Two: Today began at 6:30 when we drank some coffee and headed for the beach to dig for soft-shell clams. This involved a short trip in the two person kayak to transport the three clamming rakes, rubber gloves, a wire basket in which to pile the clams, and a can of Off in case the greenheads attacked. After a little more than an hour we had found enough clams to fill the wire basket. This may make it sound easy, but, after the initial euphoria wore off regarding how this scooping of sand and piling it beside the hole was like building drip castles in California eons ago, my knees grew tender and my back was good and tired from hacking into the wet sand with a 3-pronged clam rake. I was a champion at finding clams that were too small to keep and alternatively, driving the tine of the rake through the shell of some that were big enough to keep. We all agreed that if we HAD to do this to gather food to live, we would tire of it quite quickly!
Back home, we all showered and ate breakfast. Then it was off to T.J. Maxx for about 3 hours of shopping ☺ Following a successful ‘spotition, Pat and I ate lunch at a restaurant in Wellfleet with a water view. We got home in time for a brief rest before it was time for “happy hour” and a dinner of fried clams (the ones we smashed by accident) and then a trip to the drive-in for a double feature. Home around midnight!! Whew!
Day Three: No new adventures today – but a chance to read the paper and lie around on a lazy summer morning. Then I cut pieces for 8 quilt blocks. We went to the beach this afternoon and swam in good-sized swells which just made me laugh as they broke over our heads! Again, I felt like a child in California again. We swam against the wind going down the beach and let the swells carry us back to shore as we swam back.
A trip in the red convertible to get ice cream tonight, after a dinner of baked stuffed zucchini out of their garden, and another great day has come to a close. Time to regroup my suitcases and think about driving home tomorrow. Sigh. Vacation is coming to a close.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
In the Barn 7/3/08
I keep trying to capture how I feel when I’m in the Franconia, Bethlehem area this summer, and I have a hard time putting it into words. The time I’ve spent at the Frost Place seems to be at the heart of it, and makes me want to say that I’m back at my spiritual or cultural roots, but that isn’t even it, because really, Frost was never my favorite poet.
In this retrospective mode, I attended a poetry reading in the barn last night, and have to say that I just felt a feeling of peace wash over me. The view of Lafayette in the twilight, the smell of citronella candles burning around the edge of the barn, the hard folding chairs, and the magic of a poet reading words written with intention and intensity wrapped me in a feeling of belonging and of a deep connection to this place.
It was a hot summer day, and one of driving, talking, meeting with relative strangers and helping to orient a young college student to the research she would be doing at historical societies in the area. By late afternoon, I was woozy with the heat and lack of food and water and wondered why I even thought I wanted to go to the poetry reading. My room at the Kinsman Lodge was beautifully decorated, simple, and more than adequate for the night, but was about 85 degrees, with the sun pouring through the window as it set over the low-lying hills on the opposite side of the road. I hadn’t realized that the Easton Valley Rd. heads south, and even the direction of the setting sun discombobulated me.
I tried sitting on the porch, where a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of a large lilac bush, but a man was talking to the owner about his gravely ill mother or wife, the doctor’s lack of timely answers about her condition, how he was going to continue to pay for the cost of her care and the sadness of it all, and I thought that this was the last subject I wanted to contemplate as I tried to cool off and wind down. So, I decided to go eat some dinner to see if some food would cure my malaise.
Stopping at the Franconia Inn, a venue I was sure was too expensive, I walked into blissfully air conditioned heaven, and a waiter who took care of my every whim. When I voiced disappointment that gazpacho wasn’t the soup of the day, he remembered that they might have some leftover cold strawberry soup with a touch of brandy in it and brought me a cup, gratis. That was the start of a delightful meal, two glasses of water and a glass of iced tea which revived me and made me realize just how lucky I was to be experiencing this all on an expense account!
From the Inn, I drove the short distance to The Frost Place, feeling revived and looking forward to the poetry reading. I sat among strangers, though made welcome by Jim Schley, who made sure to introduce me to the poets who were present, and I felt myself just relax into the evening and the opportunity to blend past and present, business and pleasure in the small barn where I spent so much time thirty years ago. The evening air was soft and warm, the audience appreciative, and I was transported to a time in my life which has turned out to be the springboard for so much more for me.
In this retrospective mode, I attended a poetry reading in the barn last night, and have to say that I just felt a feeling of peace wash over me. The view of Lafayette in the twilight, the smell of citronella candles burning around the edge of the barn, the hard folding chairs, and the magic of a poet reading words written with intention and intensity wrapped me in a feeling of belonging and of a deep connection to this place.
It was a hot summer day, and one of driving, talking, meeting with relative strangers and helping to orient a young college student to the research she would be doing at historical societies in the area. By late afternoon, I was woozy with the heat and lack of food and water and wondered why I even thought I wanted to go to the poetry reading. My room at the Kinsman Lodge was beautifully decorated, simple, and more than adequate for the night, but was about 85 degrees, with the sun pouring through the window as it set over the low-lying hills on the opposite side of the road. I hadn’t realized that the Easton Valley Rd. heads south, and even the direction of the setting sun discombobulated me.
I tried sitting on the porch, where a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of a large lilac bush, but a man was talking to the owner about his gravely ill mother or wife, the doctor’s lack of timely answers about her condition, how he was going to continue to pay for the cost of her care and the sadness of it all, and I thought that this was the last subject I wanted to contemplate as I tried to cool off and wind down. So, I decided to go eat some dinner to see if some food would cure my malaise.
Stopping at the Franconia Inn, a venue I was sure was too expensive, I walked into blissfully air conditioned heaven, and a waiter who took care of my every whim. When I voiced disappointment that gazpacho wasn’t the soup of the day, he remembered that they might have some leftover cold strawberry soup with a touch of brandy in it and brought me a cup, gratis. That was the start of a delightful meal, two glasses of water and a glass of iced tea which revived me and made me realize just how lucky I was to be experiencing this all on an expense account!
From the Inn, I drove the short distance to The Frost Place, feeling revived and looking forward to the poetry reading. I sat among strangers, though made welcome by Jim Schley, who made sure to introduce me to the poets who were present, and I felt myself just relax into the evening and the opportunity to blend past and present, business and pleasure in the small barn where I spent so much time thirty years ago. The evening air was soft and warm, the audience appreciative, and I was transported to a time in my life which has turned out to be the springboard for so much more for me.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Reflections 6/10/08
Today has been a day of extremes. I began the day in Durham, NH where it was sunny and hot, and I was glad to spend an hour in the air-conditioned yoga studio where we contemplated our spiritual connection to a higher power. I am ending the day in a torrential thunderstorm in Craftsbury Common, VT, where we just heard a talk in which we were invited to contemplate our spiritual connection to our rural heritage, or to our “place” in the world.
As I drove toward Concord, NH, the temperature on the car thermometer registered 99, which has to have been a record for this date. I was confident that as I drove north, the temperature would drop. Not the case, or at least not by much. It fell to 94 in Littleton, but then, as I crossed the Connecticut River into Vermont, the temperature plummeted to 68, and the Vermont radio station informed me that there was a tornado watch in effect for the entire state. The sky was black and the winds kicked up (the radio said 45 mph gusts) and I wished I did not have the unfamiliar part of the trip ahead of me. With my eye on the sky for funnel clouds, I made my way north on 91, and by a circuitous route to Sterling College in Craftsbury Common, a tiny, picturesque white village hidden in the northeast kingdom of Vermont. If I were Robert Frost, I would no doubt craft a poem about NH and it’s cold relative to the west, and become famous…..
My connection to this place is both rooted and spiritual, and brings me to my next random thought, that these past few days have been filled with connections to several men who are either literally or figuratively dead to me. Today’s connection is to my oldest brother, who died 20 years ago. Even as I write that sentence, I can’t believe that his death was that long ago, as I can still hear his laugh, see his face, and imagine him sitting at the dinner table jiggling his knee, or drumming his fingers on the table, playing a fugue which only he could hear. In any case, here, in Craftsbury, VT, he began his teaching career after his graduation from Dartmouth, and we drove him and his stuff to what seemed to me to be the end of the world, and deposited him, and aforesaid stuff in what looked mostly like a poor excuse for a summer camp. I think he lasted one or maybe 1 ¾ of a year here, being fired for trying to close the school down after he discovered that the headmaster was falsifying the students’ transcripts. Though he was sent packing, the school stayed open only a short time after, though I don’t know if it closed because of Rob’s crusade. I think it was here that he ran into a deer and totaled his VW bug, and then “had” to buy a Porsche, in which he and younger brother Dick drove across the country to spend the summer in California.
Our speaker tonight cautioned against nostalgia, as a romanticization of the past and a substitute for remembering the truth of the past, and I find that it is easy for me to slip into nostalgia as I think about Rob and that time in our lives and in his life. After he left here, he moved to a school in Connecticut, near where I soon landed as a freshman in college, and spent some bizarre weekends with him, perhaps the subject of another blog.
I sat with a woman at dinner who taught for 8 years at White Mt. School, and that precipitated true nostalgia, and thoughts of ex-husband, Bob Whitten and the years we lived at White Mountain. They were, in many ways, the happiest years of our married life, but if I am honest, they were also, for me, some of the unhappiest. For him, I believe they were the happiest, and represented the place he had lived the longest in his entire life and felt the most rooted. He died 8 years ago, and as I prepare to spend 4 days on the WMS campus, actually living in the dorm where we were dorm parents for 2 years, I feel his presence. I wonder how it will affect me while I am there, and I hope, if anything, that it will be a comfortable experience and that it will bring back the happier memories. Will that be nostalgia or truth?
Finally, last night Todd sent me his itinerary for China, and I realized that he would be spending a day or two on the Yangtze River, docking at Yichang. That, I have to admit, made me think of my other ex-husband, whose great uncle spent 3 or 4 winters living in a temple in a small village up the River from what he called I-Chang. I transcribed his wife’s diary, written both from the small village and from the larger town of I-Chang, and always hoped to see and travel the river before the 3 Gorges Dam was built. For 10 years I lived and breathed Walter and Anna Granger, and I can’t say that I would want to re-live that time period, but if anything, I’d like to write to my ex and say “guess what, you turkey, Todd is going to see the very places that Walter and Anna write about in their diaries!” Part of me is smug that a member of my family will be there first.
And so, here I am in the Northeast Kingdom, not far from the birthplace of my grandmother and my mother, and I am thinking about the men who are now lost to me. The thunder, lightning and rain have started again, and tomorrow will bring clearer air, and a brain cleared of these cobwebs from the past, now that I have committed them to paper. (Paper?)
As I drove toward Concord, NH, the temperature on the car thermometer registered 99, which has to have been a record for this date. I was confident that as I drove north, the temperature would drop. Not the case, or at least not by much. It fell to 94 in Littleton, but then, as I crossed the Connecticut River into Vermont, the temperature plummeted to 68, and the Vermont radio station informed me that there was a tornado watch in effect for the entire state. The sky was black and the winds kicked up (the radio said 45 mph gusts) and I wished I did not have the unfamiliar part of the trip ahead of me. With my eye on the sky for funnel clouds, I made my way north on 91, and by a circuitous route to Sterling College in Craftsbury Common, a tiny, picturesque white village hidden in the northeast kingdom of Vermont. If I were Robert Frost, I would no doubt craft a poem about NH and it’s cold relative to the west, and become famous…..
My connection to this place is both rooted and spiritual, and brings me to my next random thought, that these past few days have been filled with connections to several men who are either literally or figuratively dead to me. Today’s connection is to my oldest brother, who died 20 years ago. Even as I write that sentence, I can’t believe that his death was that long ago, as I can still hear his laugh, see his face, and imagine him sitting at the dinner table jiggling his knee, or drumming his fingers on the table, playing a fugue which only he could hear. In any case, here, in Craftsbury, VT, he began his teaching career after his graduation from Dartmouth, and we drove him and his stuff to what seemed to me to be the end of the world, and deposited him, and aforesaid stuff in what looked mostly like a poor excuse for a summer camp. I think he lasted one or maybe 1 ¾ of a year here, being fired for trying to close the school down after he discovered that the headmaster was falsifying the students’ transcripts. Though he was sent packing, the school stayed open only a short time after, though I don’t know if it closed because of Rob’s crusade. I think it was here that he ran into a deer and totaled his VW bug, and then “had” to buy a Porsche, in which he and younger brother Dick drove across the country to spend the summer in California.
Our speaker tonight cautioned against nostalgia, as a romanticization of the past and a substitute for remembering the truth of the past, and I find that it is easy for me to slip into nostalgia as I think about Rob and that time in our lives and in his life. After he left here, he moved to a school in Connecticut, near where I soon landed as a freshman in college, and spent some bizarre weekends with him, perhaps the subject of another blog.
I sat with a woman at dinner who taught for 8 years at White Mt. School, and that precipitated true nostalgia, and thoughts of ex-husband, Bob Whitten and the years we lived at White Mountain. They were, in many ways, the happiest years of our married life, but if I am honest, they were also, for me, some of the unhappiest. For him, I believe they were the happiest, and represented the place he had lived the longest in his entire life and felt the most rooted. He died 8 years ago, and as I prepare to spend 4 days on the WMS campus, actually living in the dorm where we were dorm parents for 2 years, I feel his presence. I wonder how it will affect me while I am there, and I hope, if anything, that it will be a comfortable experience and that it will bring back the happier memories. Will that be nostalgia or truth?
Finally, last night Todd sent me his itinerary for China, and I realized that he would be spending a day or two on the Yangtze River, docking at Yichang. That, I have to admit, made me think of my other ex-husband, whose great uncle spent 3 or 4 winters living in a temple in a small village up the River from what he called I-Chang. I transcribed his wife’s diary, written both from the small village and from the larger town of I-Chang, and always hoped to see and travel the river before the 3 Gorges Dam was built. For 10 years I lived and breathed Walter and Anna Granger, and I can’t say that I would want to re-live that time period, but if anything, I’d like to write to my ex and say “guess what, you turkey, Todd is going to see the very places that Walter and Anna write about in their diaries!” Part of me is smug that a member of my family will be there first.
And so, here I am in the Northeast Kingdom, not far from the birthplace of my grandmother and my mother, and I am thinking about the men who are now lost to me. The thunder, lightning and rain have started again, and tomorrow will bring clearer air, and a brain cleared of these cobwebs from the past, now that I have committed them to paper. (Paper?)
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