20-20 Hindsight (1/5/2021)

Merian Webster defines 20-20 Hindsight as follows: "the full knowledge and complete understanding that one has about an event only after it has happened."

Well some year we have had. I have joked that when the clock strikes midnight on January 1, 2021 we can actually claim 20-20 hindsight.  2020 is finally over!  Although, it might take historians a long time to have a complete understanding of what happened that year.  It has been a wild and crazy one. 

It all stopped for me in March 11.  I was working from home after two days of teaching in Lynchburg  (a bit more about that later), when word came down that the state went in the COVID-19 lock down.  I have not traveled since and been to Richmond twice for a half hour.  I realize that I am fairly egocentric here; however, this is my blog  and I assume you all read and follow the news.

If being locked up wasn't bad enough, we had to do this under Donald tRump, the now expected temporary occupant of the Whitehouse.  I think in hindsight (there is that word again) he was completely unprepared, uninterested and unwilling to deal with the Corona virus.  I read Bob Woodward's book (Rage) on the subject, and it is amazing.  tRump was only interested in the end of the impeachment trial, the upcoming reelection, and the stock market.  More and more were we seeing how he was trying to undo anything Obama had done and literally screw up this country.

And then we got the murder of George Floyd.  The shit hit the fan and it lit the country on fire (in addition the the wildfires that were raging in the west).  tRump proved that he really was without empathy and he could only call for law and order.  In addition to being without empathy, tRump also proved he was without religion and obviously analphabetic, holding the bible upside down, while grandstanding in front of a church in Washington.  Speculations are that his law and order stance is what eventually would be the reason he lost the elections (but historians will be the better judge of that).  But now at the beginning of the new year, he is still fighting the outcome of the elections.  I think one thing is for sure: history will not be kind to the tRump presidency.  He ran this country like his company.  Into the ground, bankrupting it, morally and financially.

On a more personal level, my past couple of posts have been more introspective about my so called house arrest under the Corona virus.  I wrote about my teleworking and my lack of inspiration lately; however, my mind and body have been busy.  We restored our deck this summer and that was a huge job.  I split a large oak by hand for our wood stove.  Of course, I also spent a lot of time with my bonsai. I did a lot of reading and thinking.  

One thing that fascinates me is moral and religious hypocrisy.  This is something that is sorely missing in the current Whitehouse, with a lot of political leaders and with a lot of religious leaders.  Politically, we encountered Lindsey Graham after Ruth Bader Ginsburg died or Ted Cruz who after all the abuse he, his wife and his father got from tRump still happily defends him, hoping to gain politically.

On a personal level I was fascinated by Jerry Falwell and his downfall from Liberty University in Lynchburg, the last place I visited before lockdown.  I wrote about Falwell and the university in this post.  It was uncovered that good old Jerry enjoyed watching his wife having sex with other (younger) men.  He was supposedly sitting in a chair next to the bed, enjoying his private porn show.  I have not seen reports on whether he was dressed or not, and what else he was doing at the time (I want to bet that he wasn't reading the newspaper).  It seems that there are quite a few men in healthy marriages who enjoy this type of relationship either as a way of being humiliated (for lacking something somewhere) or just the joy of sharing.  This is an interesting article on the subject.  In other words, I am not condemning it; I am condemning Jerry's hypocrisy.  So yes, it fascinates me that someone at the head of such a prominent religious institution who claims to be the north star of the moral compass has his or her human quirks that eventually bring them to their knees.  To think that all the conservative politicians would visit Jerry and Liberty U. to get their blessing, and that students would need to stay celibate, while Jerry had his private porn show, curtesy of his wife.  

The hypocrisy of it all.  But then I read that Joel Osteen is so filthy rich that finally his flock is seeing right through him and some are abandoning him.  The poverty we have thanks to tRump, COVID, his tax cuts for the wealthy and running the economy into the ground, while these mega-church pastors, University and company presidents are getting richer and living the life!  Lines at food banks are longer than ever, and Jerry got a severance package worth a few million.  But our millionaire politicians can only come up with $600 for the regular folks, which does not even cover the rent. You get the message: hypocrisy abound in 2020.

Well folks some year it has been.  Let us not look back too long, but hope for a better tomorrow.  Happy New Year!

Water (12/29/2020)

It was Rachel Carson who wrote: “The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place.” Who am I to disagree? Having lived and grown up in the vicinity of the sea from my third through my sixteenth birthday and spending almost every day in it, I fully agree with her. I even have photographs of me as an infant at the shore of Lake Tanzania (or Lake Tanganyika as it was called in those days) one of the largest natural lakes in Africa. Technically that was not a sea, but you cannot see the opposite shore. Even later in Holland between my 16th and 22nd birthday, I was never far away from the water (those Dutch canals) or ocean. For the past 20 years I have lived on the Chesapeake Bay and have the almost daily illusion that when I am in Yorktown and look east, I actually have an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean and thus can look all the way to Portugal or thereabouts. As a sailor I know I am wrong, because leaving Yorktown at the 90-degree compass bearing I would sail straight into Cape Charles on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, and never make it to the actual ocean.

This photograph was taken in August 2020 in Yorktown looking east!  Portugal I see you! (not).  But you get the picture, that is why I like living here. 

I often wonder what my attraction to the ocean or water is? I always blamed some form of claustrophobia, like the need to see the horizon. In fact, I grew up being able to see the horizon. On a clear day we could literally see the coast of Venezuela from our home some 60 kilometers (40 miles) away. Accounting for the curvature of the earth we actually saw the peaks of the coastal mountain range. This was especially spectacular at night, when the mountains got hit by thunderstorms and you could see the lightning. Pretty cool for us living on a more desert like island. But even in the Netherlands where I moved when I was 16, you can easily get to places where you can look to infinity.  Holland or the western part of the Netherlands, where I lived, is as flat as a pancake, and you can see for miles, even when not standing on a shore. 

The most miserable place I ever lived was Durham, North Carolina (sorry guys). This was probably because we lived in a rental and because we knew that it was only for three months. We lived there in the mid 1980s next to a racist who would stand in his front yard with a gin and tonic at 10 am complaining to me about those n...... But to me it was also because I could never get my bearings; too many trees, no horizon, I felt closed in. I really never knew where I was. Nepal, Yemen, Uganda all gave me a chance to look as far as I wanted.

Even living in New Mexico where I did not have to deal with claustrophobia. There were no trees in the desert, or when there were I could look around them and look far.  I absolutely loved it. But still, getting to the big lake called Elephant Bute in the Rio Grande was something spectacular to me. Open water! I wrote three posts about our visit to Newfoundland, and boy there again, the coastal areas were a delight. Oh, and coastal Scotland but then the single malt really helped too in my love affair with that country and its coast. 

Maybe, except for the single malt, what do all these experiences have in common? Water, oceans, lakes, and horizons. What does it tell you or me about me? I really do not know. That my body is comprised of something like 70 or 80% H2O? That I, like every regular human being, need to drink 8 glasses of water to survive or at least be healthy. Maybe that that like every one of you I have evolved from some lifeform that originally lived in water, especially that interface between water and shore? Getting back to Ms. Carson, that interface between ocean and land is beautiful and sometimes frightening. The area where the waves crash the algae, seaweed, oysters, crabs, etc. In evolutionary times those first creatures that ventured out of the waves onto the shores (plants, animals, etc.) to see if they could survive there. 

The horizon probably signifies my wander lust.  Not that I am any way like them, but I am sure that is what attracted the great explorers like Columbus, Cook or even Darwin.  They had the urge the discover what was over the horizon; new things to see, to experience.   More and more do I havve the need to see what is over the horizon and I cannot believe that I live in this house for more than 20 years.  Here I am couped up in it for almost a year thanks to COVID-19. I need to study these feeling and the deeper reasons behind them a bit more. 

One thing I do know is that we need to take care of our water. Water, clean water is so essential to us all, and it seems that we are forgetting this. On my daily walks I still see piles of dog shit around that people refuse to pick up. I observe litter all over the place. A lot of this, if not all of it, will be ending up in our surface water and pollute it. We need to take care of our water folks; it is all that we have. This is the only planet that we have, that our kids have and our grandkids.

I need to write more (12/22/2020)

Usually and the end of the year, or sometimes at the beginning of the new year I take stock of what happened during the year that has just gone by. Well’ I am not sure if this is my definitive blog for 2020, but I somehow feel like writing and excusing myself for not writing as much as a should, have been in the past, etc.

I am finding that it is more difficult to be creative after having to be creative for my job day-in, day-out and having to create on-line classes that keep people’s interest. In addition, being stuck at home and looking from my perch is somewhat boring and I do not get the inspiration that I usually get from traveling, listening to the radio and meeting people. Do I have the COVID blues? I do not know, but look at the graph below and you can see what funk I am in in my blogging (the 17 includes today’s blog). 

Previously, I wrote about inspiration in which I debunked this idea of not being inspired or not having a creative mind (somehow, the illustration was lost). Therefore, I cannot blame it on that. Am I depressed? Not really, in the sense of the word. Maybe slightly depressed, but I think we all are in a bit of a funk having that Sword of Damocles (the sword of COVID) hanging above our head on that tenuous string. When will I get it or a loved one, like my almost 94-year-old father-in-law get it? And how will I or they react to getting it? Yes, I can finally say that people in my direct orbit have gotten COVID. One survived; she reported that when her husband brought home her favorite ice-cream, it just tasted wet and cold. Esther, the 90 year-old (ex?) girlfriend of my father-in-law who has Alzheimer is currently in the hospital with COVID. We fear the worst. But by now, we are all waiting until it is our turn to get the vaccine, at least when you are not an anti-vaxxer.

What is my daily routine like? I usually wake up around 6:20. After getting dressed, I put on the coffee and get the newspaper with the dogs. They get their morning snack when we come back in, and we read the paper. Then it is breakfast and a dog walk, followed by “hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to the office we go” and that is just one flight of stairs away. Coffee around 10:30 and lunch at 12. We walk the dogs again, and I may spend a few minutes out back with my trees (bonsais). Back to work, which is interrupted by coffee around 3. I usually quit around 4:30 and take a shower. The shower is a great ritual for me to end the work day. Then it is time to make dinner and settle down for the evening. Boring isn’t it? Thank goodness, I still enjoy cooking, and at least once a week, the monotony is broken up by the need to bake bread. Baking bread requires more frequent trips down the stairs to fold the dough and to do something to it (“hey Google, set the timer for a half hour”).

COVID weekends are not any more exciting. One of the days is a dog park visit (Waller Mill in Williamsburg) and a walk in the woods (one of three trails). If the weather is good, we may stop for a brief visit for a beer at one of the microbreweries (usually the Brass Cannon, we sit outside of course). The other day is spent around the home. It is all very inspirational and I am sure, something many of you also spend your COVID year. Listening to my colleagues during our staff meetings that is about right.

So how should I get my writing mojo back and again write at least 30 posts per year? Maybe for next year I just need to take a word out of the dictionary and write a blog post around it. Just what comes to mind, but that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? At least now, I still have room to write my review of 2020.

From high on top of my perch (12/10/2010)

From high up my perch, there is the Amazon Prime guy, again. No, not for us. For the folks across the street. Not that we do not spend our money there. Heck, we are bleeding Amazon money, but not today. My wife even yelled to me, up the stairs: “Was that for us?” Actually, Alexa would tell us. “Alexa what are my notifications?”

However, I did not want to talk about Alexa or Amazon. I wanted to talk about my roost upstairs, overlooking the road in front of us. At times it is distracting as well as entertaining sitting here looking out of my window.

You get to see a baby blue unmarked construction vehicle with a ladder on the roof, and there goes the Prime vehicle, on its way back out of the neighborhood. People going to work, coming home. You see the regulars, walking their dogs: Bill walking Sophie; the woman walking Chaco; the guys from around the corner walking their what looks like a scotty but much larger; the big guy who collects military vehicles but actually is somewhat meek with his dog; the older lady who first walks her dog and then you see her speed walking by. You have your regular runners, the women with strollers, the groups of women trying to exercise and lose weight (I think). There is a (I think retired) couple who walk by every afternoon hand-in-hand, she is about 2 or 3 inches taller than he is. I also see people walk about 10 homes and walk back and I think: “is that all.”

You have a few individuals, but I suspect they have some social anxiety. Not bad, but it took a long time for them to even acknowledge me when I was outside and met them on my (or our walk). Especially one gal, she walks straight like an arrow, her arms cocked and really out to get some exercise. She is fun; you can sometime catch her and her husband shooting bow and arrow in their back yard. The other day I watched them throwing knives and axes.

Then there are cyclists. In the morning, there are often two cyclists on recumbent bikes. These two do not live in the neighborhood, but it is safe to bike here. I know they do not live here because they are members of the yacht club we belong to, and I know where they live. While typing this I have already seen two others bike by. The fun part is the kids from two houses down. They love to bike. But, the minute I step out off the front door, they race home, throw their bikes on the front lawn and run in the house. My wife and I are known as extremely liberal and these kids’ parents are T-party conservatives (Q-anon?). I wonder if the kids were told to watch out for us because we eat kids? I always smile at them and wave. You get the picture.

Finally, you have my favorite: Felicity. Felicity is pregnant; she walks her Great Dane: Bruce, who is a friend of our dog. When Bruce escapes from his home or yard, he comes to visit us, to play with Jasper out dog. Felicity has four kids already and you know she is coming by when you see some of her sons on a little bike coming by. They herald her and Bruce. Felicity and gang will sometimes stop over to talk and play in our yard, which is a welcome distraction from teleworking and looking at a computer screen. No cannibalistic fear here! Oh well, just some musing while looking out of the window. But now I have to go downstairs; the mail lady just delivered a (Christmas?) package.

There goes Felicity and Bruce.  I was prepared and knew they were coming by because there were little boys on small bike that  came by heralding her imminent appearance.  (photo was taken on November 16 when I still have leaves on the trees, now a month later it is all bare).