And to All a Good Night

Merry Christmas , Happy Channukah, Kwanza, Divali, or, if you prefer, Happy Non-Denominational Holiday.  

My arm is improving, but typing hasn`t gotten beyond the hunt and peck level yet (although I can reach the shift key for capitals, much to my relief), so this will be short.  

First, update on the arm.  They cut off the cast a few days ago - that was a process in and of itself - and now they have given me physiotherapy exercises to do on my own.  Apparently, in the age of COVID, the physiotherapists don`t torture you any more,  athey just teach you how to torture yourself!!  The exercises are excruciatingly painful, but I am seeing results.  Slowly, of course, way too slowly,  But there is improvement.  Stay tuned.

Just wanted to let everyone know that I am thinking of you.  For all those who reached out - and there have been many - thank you.  For those that didn`t, the silent wishes are also appreciated.  And may all of us have a better 2021, full of health and love, happiness and peace.

 

The Dreaded Fall

Well, it has happened, every old person`s dread.  I fell on Friday evening.  I was doing my usual early evening walk.  In the ciurse of doing what I call the COVID shuffle, that is, dodging off the sidewalk, to the street to avoid those maskless folks who can`t be bothered to walk single file for a few seconds, when I slipped on a pile of dirt and leaves and went down boom.  This will be short - even typing is painful - so I will spare you the details.  The long and the short of it is, I am home from the hospital with a sling and painkillers, having broken the humerus in my left arm.  I have never broken a bone before; who knew it was this painful?  Friend John and neighbors George and Joan are talking care of me, and I will no doubt live, but shit, man.....  

Wistful

I have been feeling wistful.  Not unhappy, or even sad.   Just wistful.  Anyone else feeling that way?  Maybe it is just that we are not being bombarded with all the usual external stimuli - no movies, no opera (I just haven't been able to get into all the streaming stuff), no other musical outings, no theater, no culinary treats.  More time to think, I guess.

For whatever reason, I have been thinking a lot about the road - roads, really - not taken.  That boyfriend in college (you know who you are): what would have happened had we married?  (Truthfully, who knows whether that was a missed opportunity or just a figment of my fervid imagination - and really, the same is true for the following examples of missed roads...)  That girlfriend who I spent a lot of time with when I was younger (now many years dead, of necretizing fasciitis) - was that an attempt at a sexual connection, which I didn't explore?  Who knows how my life would have changed?  And had my once-upon-a-time fiancee not died of aids in the 80's? And dear, dear Hank.  Before his death, he implied that there was a potential relationship there, that I had "jilted" him in favour of David.  I honestly never saw it at the time.  But if I had?  

Those of you who know me know that, overall, I am not unhappy with how my life has progressed thus far, and consider myself far luckier than most. Nonetheless, one does wonder, what if? 

The more I think about it, though, the more I have to acknowledge that I am damaged goods.  I really am not connected to "normal" the way most people are. I have no family to speak of - my parents and grandparents long dead, uncles and aunts dead, a few remaining cousins far away, and, while not estranged, exactly, are certainly not a part of my life.   (my uncle hated my father, and even when I was little, I knew I was an obligation, not a love interested...  or was that also a figment of my imagination?)

Why?  I have been thinking about that (as well as lots of other things - see above).  My mother died when I was three.  Did I become wary of emotional attachments?  I adored my father, but he really was insane - probably certifiable, if jews did that sort of thing.... and connecting with him was always risky.  My stepmother didn't really like me.  I don't mean to say I was mistreated - far from it - but early on, I know she didn't value anything I valued.  Her idead of an insult was to say:  there you are again, with your nose in a book, just like your father.  So, again, no connection.

Maybe I just got out of the habit......

I am usually not this maudlin.  And, as I say, things haven't turned out so badly.  But one wonders...

All right, enough of that.  What else is new? Nothing much, in the world of COVID.  Of course, there are people who are behaving incredibly badly, and that's depressing for those of us who would prefer to have a glass half full outlook.  That, at least, is more easily solved.  Most of you know I don't have a television - haven't had in years - and if I listen to audiobooks instead of the radio, I don't have to have my nosed rubbed into people's stupidity!  After all, everyone around me personally is behaving well....

Nothing else much to report.  Still walking - trying to keep all the parts moving...

And I almost forgot the reading list.  Lots of mysteries - Martha Grimes (The Black Cat, The Case has Altered, Vertigo42) and Elizabeth George (A Banquet of Consequences) - it seems like there is an endless number of these around, and I do love them.  Agatha Christie's estate has authorized someone to write new Hercule Poirot mysteries.  I am, generally speaking, skeptical of those sorts of things, but the one I read (listenedd to, really), The Killings at Kingfisher Hill, was quite good.  I also listened to Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett.  She is among my current favourite authors, and this is among her best (I had read it before...).  

More classically speaking, I read Young Werther, by Goethe.  My father endlessly quoted Schiller, Heine and Goethe to me when I was younger, but I never had read Goethe on my own, although, of course, I knew all about it, including the Werther mania in Europe...  (maybe one of the reasons I am feeling so - wistful - ).  Also in the classics vein, Fathers and Sons by Turgenev, another one of those things one knows about but often haven't read.  And I am a sucker for Russian literature.  Finally, I am listening to War, by Margaret Macmillan, a well known Canadian historian.  This is a (relatively) new book about the history of war.  She is a good writer (and the reader, who is not the author), is good too, but to say I am enjoying it would be putting too fine a point on it - it is too depressing for that....

Well, that is all for now, folks.  Hope you are all safe, healthy, and happy, and, on this pre-(American)Thanksgiving day, remembering how much you have to be thankful for.  In my case, it is, as always (among many other things), my friends.  Thank you all, for being so supportive, and such good friends.

Take care of yourselves, and each other....

Poor America

I am not quite ready to breath a sigh of relief quite yet.  Trump and his followers can still do a great deal of damage between now and January.  But at least one hurdle has been jumped.  Noone but a lunatic or a liar can say that Biden has not won, both the popular vote and the electoral college.   And the Democrats can still pick up a few Senators - from Georgia, of all places!!!!!

But still.  But still.  Seventy million people voted for Trump.  That is an incredible number of disaffected people.  And we have done this, and with the best of intentions.  Once again, the law of unintended consequences has reared its ugly head.  

 I've just read a book that goes a long way towards explaining this.  It is called The Tyranny of Meritocracy, by Michael J. Sandel.  It talks about the hopes we all had for globalization, and the hopes we had for meritocracy.  If only there were no barriers of race or gender or sexual orientation.  If only there were no barriers to education.  Then we could all earn what we learn, as Bill Clinton (and Obama too, for that matter) used to say.  

But there are always barriers.  Even if we could remove the artificial barriers listed above, and, of course, we haven't, there are still barriers.  People should have equal opportunity, of course, but people are not equal.  And the corollary to the meritocratic ideal of you got what you have by merit, is, of course, that if you don't get it, you don't deserve it.  And if you don't deserve it, then it becomes harder for those that do to say that the common good requires that you have it anyway.

I'm not immune.  I have been known to say that I have gotten when I have on my own.  And, if I could do it, why couldn't every one else do it?

To a certain extent, it is true.  My parents were poor by the time they got to America.  I worked my way through college.  I worked my way through law school.  My clothes - and furniture, for that matter, came from thrift stores.

And yet.  And yet.  We may not have had any furniture, or a car, or a television (until I was 16).  But I certainly won the gene lottery, both in terms of health and, some would say, in terms of brains.  There was never any question that I would go to college.  There was never any doubt that I could do whatever I wanted to do.  I was read to and quoted poetry to from the time of my birth.  I knew more culture before I was 6 years old than most people know before they are 60.  Not to mention the mere fact of the luck of timing.  Work was available.  Even my parents could buy a house eventually; I certainly could.  

So, I am, a bit late, admittedly, learning - or trying to - the milk of human kindness, trying to realize that those without my luck need to have the rest of us work less for ourselves and more for the common good.

The statistics are alarming.  We no longer value work, we value education.  And yet, even in America, only 30% of adults get a diploma from a 4-year college.  And men without a college education have the highest suicide rates, the highest rates of drug addiction/death, the highest rates of alchohol related deaths, the highest rates of what Sandel calls deaths of despair.  Even if they have work, what they do for society is not valued.

This is the wound that Trump ripped the scab off.  This was what even those with good intentions (Hillary Clinton and her Deplorables, Obama, with his reference to those who cling to their guns and pick up trucks) do not want to see.  And this is the problem that still needs to be addressed.

What would I do if I were queen?  I don't know.  A guaranteed annual income would help.  But that alone does not address the need for value and self-respect that comes from working.  How do we go back to a world where work is valued?  How do we get back to a feeling that, as Canadians are fond of blathering, we are all in this together?  How do we re-develop a sense of the common good?

We old people are fond of belittling the young, who can't understand that you can't party right now, that you should wear a mask, that you need to think of someone besides yourself.  But why should they, really?  That is not the example they have been given for the last few decades, is it? 

All that said, my personal life remains pretty benign.  I have set myself a fitness goal - shocking, I know, at least for me.  It is not the arbitrary 10,000 steps imposed by the tyranny of the computer ap, but, rather, the ability to keep up with the as yet imaginary group when travel starts again.  So, I am now walking 1 1/2 hours at a go, and sometimes more.  I mostly walk in my neighborhood.....

 

...and mostly alone (the tenor of the times, don't you know....), but sometimes joined by colleagues and friends.  Below, Paul and David, previously seen in these pages.  Paul is a colleague, David a new addition to our group, here having dinner in Steveston..... (after the obligatory walk)...

I think fall is my favourite season.  We are having quite a good one - or maybe I am just noticing it more because usually I am in the desert by this time...

Neighbor and friend John and I sometimes prowl the neighborhood together (although not often - he finds my walks too short and too boring....)

....and John and Dennis and I have been going for longer walks - here around Burnaby Lake - before treating ourselves to a patio dinner at a nearby Earls or Cactus Club....

All in all, I have a pretty small bubble - I think I have seen 11 people all told since the pandemic took hold in March, and all of us are pretty much hermits!!!!

So, what else do I do?  Well, I am actually working, believe it or not.  As most of you know, I was meant to retire, oh, 8 years ago.  And I did, sort of; I've been working on contract ever since.  Some years there is more work, some less, but it all goes to supporting my expensive habits, like opera and travel.  This year looked to be a lean year, but it is picking up, and since I am not ready to risk travel to the Desert quite yet, it is something to do, and it is helping to build up my travel fund...

By the way, they have organized the COVID restrictions quite nicely at work.  They gave all the support staff lap top computers, so they can work at home.  The Vice Chairs, such as myself, all have offices with doors that close, and we have limited the number of Vice Chairs who can be in the office any any given time anyway (by mutual agreement - the rest of the time we can work at home too).  Masks are mandatory while in the office, and they have upgraded cleaning and ventilation, so, really, it is quite safe, or at least feels that way.

So, there is walking, and working, and, of course, bridge, which I play probably on average 4 or 5 times a week, on line, of course, with my Desert brige club pals.  Like everything else in the world right now - politics, the Pandemic - it is a source of some disappoinment in the nature of mankind.  The opportunities for cheating on line are rife, and there is, apparently, lots of it going on.  However, like everything else in my life, it does not affect me directly.  Our club is reasonable small, so no strangers playing.  Also, our directors know our capabilities - at least as far as bridge is concerned - and can follow up if they find abnormalities.  I am pretty confident that we are running a fairly clean game.  At any rate, I win often enough to keep me interested.....

I'm doing a lot of knitting, too.  Like everyone else, it seems in this strange time, my attention span is short, so no sweaters or coats, but lot's of fingerless gloves and socks - all my friends have benefits from what I like to call the COVID bounty.  I listen to the radio or audio books while I am knitting, so am keeping up my multi-tasking skills....

There is always reading of course.  I have been downloading audio books from the library throughout, and the physical library is now (partially) open in our neck of the woods.  Masks are mandatory, of course, and the number of attendees at any time is limited.  Increased cleaning is evident.  And the new book section has been closed - too much handling of books there, I imagine.  But it is better than nothing, and John and I go regularly to get a new batch of mysteries (me) and sci-fi (him) offerings.  My latest were two (old, but not previously read) Martha Grimes, The Case has Altered, and The Black Cat.  I do so love an author who can be relied on to be a page turner!  

I did pick up a `first novel`by Helene Wecker, called The Golem and the Jinni, because I was entranced by the title.  A Golem, as some of you may know, is a mythological Jewish creature made by humans, of clay, to help the Jews in times of trouble.  A Jinni is a mythological Arab creature, you know, the kind that gets trapped in lamps and grants wishes.  These come to gether in early 20th century New York, and although I am not usually interested in mythological creatures of any sort, I must say, I am still turning the pages.  

I've also ordered a bunch of books - unlike the rest of the world, the first and only things I have ordered on line since the beginning of the pandemic.  These will, of course, be reviewed in these pages in due course.  In the meanwhile, it give me a sense of security to have a stash of wool and a stack of unread books at hand!

And of course, there are the Economist (John's offerings) and The New Yorker (Jack's) and miscellaneous bridge books (Dennis's) to round out the demands on my time.

So, with all of that, and numerous daily emails and texts and telephone calls, I am not feeling at all deprived, really, in spite of all those worrying about people's mental health in these trying times.

Hope you all are doing well.  Do reach out:  it will be good for both of us!!!  I would say I will be back to you shortly, but we both know that probably won't happen.  As always, though, I'll try.....

Update, Physical and Mental

 I am doing well.  I am feeling better than I have in months, breathing well and back up to walking 3 miles a day (working towards 5).  

After a certain age, one shouldn't take selfies, but I did want to assure you that I am alive and well, if no lo nger cute and perkie...

I

We have had a spell of summerlike weather, so walking has been quite pleasant.  

What else?  I am feeling blessed with my friends.  The silver lining of COVID is that people in general are reaching out more.  But being in the hospital with a life threatening event has made me realize more than ever how lucky I am.  Friends checked up on me daily, and followed by providing magazines, books, and tasty, home-cooked treats.  Those of you who know me know that I am a glass half full, not a glass half empty king of person.  At this point, I have to say, my glass is full.

How did I get to be a glass half full kind of person?  Well, my stepmother was the opposite.  I used to say that if the world were perfect, she would be wondering how long it was going to last.  Admittedly she had a hard life.  Her fiance was imprisoned and killed by the Nazis.  She lost her job as a radio concert pianist because she was Jewish.  She crossed the Alps into Italy in the dead of winter, the only one of her group to survive.

But the point is, she did survive.  She ended up in America, and married my father.  Admittedly, he was no prize, but she survived that too.  And yet she was terminally unhappy.  I actually think that it is genetic, and I inherited my (mostly) good nature from my father.  But one can work at it, and I have vowed to try to keep sunny.  It is pretty selfish, really; I am just happier that way....

What else am I up to?  Reading, of course.  The Economist (thanks to friend John who trots over with his copy every week) and The New Yorker (thanks to Jack who comes over periodically with dinner, magazines and books), and, of course, books.  I have taken to listening to audiobooks from the library as well, most recently The Magician's Assistant, by Ann Patchett.  She is a favourite of mine, reliably entertaining.  

The nice thing about (free) downloads from the library, is that you can return them after a few pages without guilt. I actually returned three this week:  Strip Jack by Ian Rankin (a favourite mystery writer, but didn't like the reading of this one, or the hyper format); The Glass Hotel by Emily St. John Mandel (lots of hype by reviewers, but didn't catch me at all); and The Last Widow by Karin Slaughter (liked her last one, but this one didn't catch me).  I am listening with pleasure at the moment to My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante.  Ferrante was interviewed recently by Sheila Rodgers on Writers and Company on CBC, and I was interested enough to take note.  When I saw it on the (virtual) library shelf, I grabbed it.  I will now try to find her others.  

In terms of actual books, I am working my way through the second volume of Isaac Asimov's autobiography (thank you, Tom).

Still playing lots of bridge (on line), with enough success to keep me playing (intermitten reinforcement being the draw that it is...)

There is now work to be had, and I am taking all that I can, with the hope that someday soon there will be somewhere I can spend all this money...

What else?  I have done my will and medical power of attorney (near-death experiences will do that to you...), and feel incredibly good about it.  There are many reasons for that, of course, but the salient one is that friend Hank died three years ago without a will, and so his fervent wish to endow a scholarship in his name at University of Arizona, his alma mater, could not be fulfilled.  I have now taken it on myself to do it for him (in addition to a number of other bequests), and it feels good to have all of that signed, sealed and delivered.

Not to worry, though, I have no intention of kicking the bucket any time soon.  However, as recent events illustrate, you never know.

One final shout out before I go.  Thank you, Wally, for reaching out to me.  I am so happy to know that you are alive and well, and are starting out on a new adventure.

More anon.

The Rumours of My Death Were Exaggerated -

 - but not by much.  Let me hit rewind, and fill you in.  I have been trying to up the exercise game since I came back from Palm Springs in mid March.  Nothing's changed; I still loathe exercise.  But I loathe doctors and medical care more, so I am trying to keep all the parts moving, currently by walking 5+ miles a day.  Walking, mind, not running, but it seemed to be working.  

About a month ago, my breathing started to become laboured.  My walking - never very fast - became slower.  Then, I could walk less and less.  Then, I started stopping at benches along the route for a breather.  Last Saturday, I collapsed, at home, just walking from my bedroom to the dining room - it is not that far.  I called friend John, who said he couldn't understand a word I said, but figured out I was in distress.  He grabbed my keys and his phone, and by the time he got to my place two minutes later, he had called the paramedics, and not too long afterwards, I was in the hospital.

Apparently, I had a very large blood clot on my lung, and probably came closer to death than I want to know.  After a stint in the emergency ward and the intensive care unit, and a brief stay in the hospital proper, 4 days later to be exact, I was back home, equipped with blood thinners, bandaids, and requisitions for a slew of follow up medical appointments.  In the next month or two, I will probably be seeing more doctors and nurses and technicians than I have in the last 24 years.  You know what, though, given that I really haven't had to deal with all of this in 24 years, I'm just going to consider it already amortized.  All in all, I have been - and am - pretty lucky.  And, lord knows, I am not the first person in the world to be on a permanent dose of blood thinners, and no doubt won't be the last.

And, no doubt, after this initial flurry of activity, this will all settle down to a chronic condition, and as chronic conditions go, well, it could be worse.  I will try to be compliant, and ensure that my life continues to be relatively comfortable, if a bit more circumscribed.

But what with COVID, and the smoke from the forest fires,  and everything else, 2020 really is turning out to be Annus Horribilus.  It will be good to see the back of it....

  

Nostalgia

 I wonder if everyone is feeling this right now, sort of wistful, I guess.  Everything seems to remind me of something or someone else.  Tom Petty, long dead, of course, has just released (or I guess I should say that his estate has just released) a new single.  And I thought of Hank, of course, also long (June 2017) dead now, who was a big fan, and sitting in the bathroom in Hank`s apartment in San Francisco staring at the Tom Petty at the Filmore poster (along with many other rock concert posters.....)

A note from friend Jamie about the recurrence of her husband`s illness brought back meeting her in the 80`s, through Caroline Lyons (also long dead), and the times David and I spent with Jamie and Bob, on their boat, and in their apartment in Marin, and watching their very fat cat trying to squeeze through the cat door.....

And talking to friend Mickey on the phone reminded me of when we met 25 years ago now, colleagues sharing a `bull pen`` at work, watching cohort Carl napping at his desk every afternoon.

And on and on and on.....

I guess that is what happens when you are not out there making new memories, you just trot out the old ones.  I`m not complaining, mind you - I`m lucky to have so many old - and good - memories to trot out.  And now that a lot of the memory keepers are dead, I can shape those memories to my liking.

It used to distress me that my memory was so bad (funny, one thing I do remember if my father grousing about how bad his memory was....), until I realized that it is how you remember things that is important, not whether that is an accurate depiction of what really was.....

Just some musing for a Saturday morning, sitting on my patio watching the boats and planes soing by.....

Who Knew I Was Such A Hermit????

More to the point,  who would have believed it?  Everyone says that I am the most social person that they know.  That is not really how I see myself.

That is a good question.  How do I see myself?  I see myself as an old curmudgeon, really.  I love my friends, and am nothing if not loyal to them.  But I don't like people as a whole very much.  

The pandemic - and the political situation both in Canada and the US - is not improving my opinion of mankind much.  Or al all.  

Let's start with the pandemic itself.  Canada has its fair share of people who think the whole thing is a hoax, or, at the very least, hugely overblown.  Do they think all those caskets in New York and Italy were set up just for show?  And the anti-vaccers (that doesn't look right, but how would you spell it, I wonder), are alive and well here, saying that they wouldn't take a vaccine if it were offered, because, you know, it might cause autism, or who knows what.  And, of course, wearing a mask is an infringement on their personal freedom.  So, I guess they don't stop at red lights, because, after all, that is an infringement on my ability to drive however I like.  They probably don't use seat belts or helmets, same reason.

And don't get me started on young people.  I'm fine, they say.  Even if I get sick, it won't be too bad, I won't die, and after all, life's short, and we have to party!!!  Me, me, me.  Do these people not have mothers?  Or grandmothers?  Or, heaven forbid, children?  What is the matter with these people?  Have we always been this selfish?  I am reading about Berlin in the time immediately after WW II - well, more about that later in the book section.

And politics?  Our illustrious prime minister, Trudeau fil, has had yet another ethical lapse, his third - that we know about?  I won't bore you with the details, but really, did he get hit on the head with a surfboard and get brain damaged?  Or did he just inherit his father's looks and his ga-ga mother's brains?  Of course, it all doesn't hold a candle to the illustrious Mr. Trump, but for Canada, it's a big deal.

Okay.  Now that you have let me rant, I will get on to what is happening in my life, which as usual, is pretty benign, in spite of the fact that the world as we know it is going to hell in a handbasket.  As with everyone, nothing much new.  I am still playing bridge 5 or 6 times a week, on line, with the usual cast of partners (5 in all), at the usual (Palm Desert) club, with the usual opponents.  It is actually rather comforting, and one of the benefits of practice, is you do get (marginally) better over time.  I do love it, and never ever ever when I am playing bridge do I wish I were doing something else, no matter how bad the cards or how stupid my partner.  And, as obsessions go, it is relatively cheap and relatively harmless.

I see the occasional person live and in real life.  

Neighbor and friend John comes over at least once a week with The Economist and to have a (socially-distanced) chat on the patio.

Friend Lew has invited my over to his boat for a (socially distanced ) drink in the cockpit on a number of occasions....

.....Dennis and John and I went for a walk around Burnaby Lake on one of our glorious sunny summer days....

.....colleague Brian dropped by to bring a stack of books (more about them later) and to chat....

...... friend Jack comes by every few weeks with some New Yorkers and some take out food, and we eat and chat and occasionally bump elbows....  We even ventured out to Steveston, to Kato's patio, a new (to me) restaurant with a lovely patio with a view.

......colleague and friend Eric and I have shared a few meals out (including one Indian fusion at Embers in Steveston - yum!) on COVID friendly patios.  

.....colleague Paul and his friend David came over with a picnic for my birthday (yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am another year older, 74.  I was going to have a party, but, oh, well, next year to mark 3/4 of a century...), and we had a lovely time.

All in all, a very good time indeed, much better than my usual boring summer in Vancouver.

I even have a bit of work.  I have always preferred working in the office, which is only 7 minutes from my apartment.  Now, of course, there is no-one there, so it is perfectly safe.  Our fearless leader has been very smart about it.  He insured that all the support staff got secure computers set up in their homes, so they can take care of kids and family safely at home, while still working and getting a paycheck.  We, of course, have offices of our own, so are already socially distanced from everyone else, so safe for us as well, and, of course, work is a distraction.

Of course, there is no place to spend the money that I'm earning, but it will keep.  My travel plans, like everyone else's, have been put on hold.  Viet Nam, where I was supposed to go in November, 2020, has been postponed to October, 2021.  Bayreuth, where I was supposed to be right about now, listing to the newly produced Wagner Ring Cycle, is postponed to August 2022.  And, really, I don't think I will be going to Palm Springs in November.  California is rampant with COVID, and although I think Palm Springs would probably be okay, who wants to get on a plane?  Maybe in January, when I am heartily sick of the rain, and my friend Gerry is driving down.....  but not now....

I am still walking, although I have tried to up my game to 5 miles every day - well, some days.  Below, what I see....

.....that's actually from my patio before I started out, but you get the idea...

........as  you can see, I don't have to worry much about social distancing while I am walking ...

.....well, it is usually at 6 A.M. or thereabouts, or, sometimes, if I am feeling ambitious, 8 P.M.... aren't the flowers glorious....

Oh, and I have had the boys over for dinner and bridge.  They are my (very small) social bubble, and have been from the beginning, and we are all super careful.  

I do go to the occasional store as required (Canadian Tire, London Drugs, the farmers market), appropriately masked of course, and am very much enjoying the absence of crowds, both in the stores and on the roads (although I know I should be worried about the lack of business...).

And friends (and even such family as I have) have been reaching out, by telephone and email, some who I haven't been in contact with for decades.  It has been really lovely to hear from everyone.  I have been doing some reaching out as well, and, as a result, and am feeling surrounded by love and friendship.

And did I tell you, I have discovered (thank you, Bill...) grocery delivery, which to my mind is the best thing since sliced bread.  I did not like grocery shopping in the best of times, and now, it is down right creepy.  Not only is shopping unpleasant, then you have to lug everything up from the parking garage.  Now, a few clicks of the mouse, and the bags get delivered to my patio - within 2 hours, no less - and I get to feel virtuous by keeping others employed (my last personal shopped was a former stewardess!!). And, another benefit, I never see the cookie aisle, or the soft drink aisle, or the ice cream freezer! 

So, that's my life.  Quite full, really, and I am feeling neither bored, nor (overtly) anxious.

And then there is the reading.  In addition to the aforementioned New Yorkers and Economists, there are the books, lots and lots of books.  People keep bringing me more - as if I don't have enough of my own.  It's probably a good thing, on a number of fronts.  For one thing, the books your friends want to share is like a window on to their souls. It is also good, because I read things that I otherwise might never pick up.  So, here, in no particular order, is the list, and a few comments.

Several books by comedian David Sedaris, lent to me by friend Tom.  I've heard Sedaris often on National Public Radio, and he is just as funny in print...

The Mother Tongue:  English, and How it Got That Way, by Bill Bryson.  Also a Tom recommendation.  I have read several of his (Bryson`s ) other books, on Shakespeare, as I recall, and this one was equally enjoyable, about the development of language in general and English in particular.  

Three Stations and Red Square, by Martin Cruz Smith.  These are Brian picks.  I had read Cruz`s first  Detective Arkady Renko novel, Gorky Park, eons ago, but Brian is a big fan, and has brought me over a stack.  They are even better than I remembered.  Not only is the character development wonderful, but he evokes Russia like no other modern novelist.  Most of you know I am a big Russophile, so this is a big plus for me.  Looking forward to reading the rest.  

The Mirror and the Light, by Hilary Mantel.  Jack brought this one over.  I have read her first two books on Thomas Cromwell, Wolf Hall and Bringing Up the Bodies, and this one takes him - spoiler alert for those of you who don`t know your English history - takes him to the gallows.  Fascinating man, or at least how she has drawn him, a very complex and flawed character, but wonderful reads all.

Jack also brought over The Ascent by Robert Caro, part 2 of the so-far 3 part biography of Lyndon Johnson.  I have read the first, and was looking forward to this one (the third is already down-loaded in the form of an audiobook), and started right in, but, well, I just can`t deal with Lyndon Johnson right now.  Talk about flawed characters....  well, it has waited this long, it can wait a little while longer.

A number of other Tom picks for me.  Three by Christopher Isherwood, Christopher and His Kind (autobiographical), Mr. Norris Changes Trains, and The Berlin Stories (on which, of course, Cabaret was based).  I am fascinated by the Berlin of the thirties, and he evokes the period like no other.  It is a fascinating - all the more so because now so lost - place.  I am dying to go back to the very different Berlin, and will do that in conjunction with my Bayreuth trip, I hope....)

Tom also brought over The Statement, by Brian Moore.  He is apparently quite a well known author, but not before to me. I am not usually a fan of thrillers, but these are unusual times.  This one was very well written ( would expect nothing less from something that Tom recommended) and a real page turner.  Two thumbs up.  I have another by Moore, next up on my bedside table.

And, to add to the surfeit of bridge in my life, there are also bridge books (again, curtesy of Tom.) Judgment at Bridge, by Mike Lawrence.  This book is actually 45 years old.  Well, bidding styles have changed, but the need for judgement has not.  Great book.  Play Bridge with Mike Lawrence.  Again, bidding styles have changed, but his comments about the play are just as relevant.  Still in process:  The Bridge Bum, My Life and Play, by Alan Sontag.  And there are a few more on my bedside table. 

Finally, I've discovered Libby (thank you Mickey), the app from the Vancouver Public Library, where you can download audio books.  I listen while I walk, and it keeps me going (without using my data for listening to the radio....)  What have I heard:

Seriously...I'm Kidding, by (and read by) Ellen DeGeneres.  Eh.  She's a light weight, and I didn't even find her all that funny.  

Lincoln in the Bardo, by Georrge Sanders.  "Read" a couple of chapters, then gave it back.  The book got a lot of buzz when it came out, but it didn't grab me.  

The Siberian Dilemma, by Martin Cruz Smith.  See above.  Reading or listening, what a great author!  And, of course, having just visited Siberia, it was like my own personal travelogue.

Murder Must Advertise, a Lord Peter Whimsey mystery, by Dorothy Sayers.  I have, of course, always heard about the Lord Peter Whimsey series, but don't think I have ever "read" one before.  Charming! I will listen to more, if I can find them.

Man's Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl.  I read this 50 years ago, when I was in college, but things mean different things at different points in your life.  Especially now, the search for meaning is most relevant, even more so than when I was 25, I think...

Pieces of Her, by Karin Slaughter.  Another thriller by an author previously unknown to me.  Two thumbs up.  I have already put a hold on her next book.

Theft by Finding, by David Sedaris.  (See above)  This one is autobiographical, and became a little tiresome.  However, interesting to see the development from a young repressed gay man in the south to sophisticated married gay man in Paris..

Why Did I Come Into This Room?  by Joan Lunden.  Pah.  I am getting tired about books about getting old....Don`t bother.

South of the Border West of the Sun, by Haruki Murakimi.  I have read a number of his books before.  This one is written as though it were autobiographical, but who knows.  The Japanese style of writing is so different from ours, or the Latin authors, or the European ones.  It takes me to a completely different place.

And, currently listening to, Nightmare in Berlin, by Hans Fallada.  I have read several of his books before.  This is Berlin a bit later, during and immediately after the Second World War.  He is scathing about the German character, or, more accurately, about the character of mankind in general, but very much in line with my Eastern European (Jewish) weltanschaung (outlook).  I`m riveted.

And that`s all folks,  That is, if any of you are still reading along, after such a long delay on my part, and now all this blathering.  As always, I will try to do better....

Hugh Fraser has died

Many of you won't know who he is, but in Canada, he is probably the most highly regarded jazz musician.  He played the trombone, the piano and drums, was the leader of a number of jazz groups, and a prolific composer.

But this is a personal story.  Some of you know that David played the trombone.  He played in the Salt Spring Island Orchestra, but his joy was playing in Swing Shift, the jazz group on the Island.  Hugh Fraser was out of Victoria, but came to Salt Spring one summer to give master classes to Swing Shift.  David was thrilled at the prospect of learning to improvise, something he had never done.  They all loved Hugh, and felt like they learned so much.

By this time, David was already sick with the cancer which would shortly kill him.  But he desparately wanted to do his trombone solo in the upcoming concert.  And he did.  I saw Hugh with his hands on his trombone, ready to take over if needs be.  But he didn't have to, and David was brilliant.

It was his last concert.

I went to one of Hugh's concerts in Victoria several years after David's death.  I went back stage to tell him how much his time on Salt Spring had meant to David.  When he asked after David's health, and I told him that he had died, Hugh burst into tears - as, of course, did I.

Hugh Fraser died on Wednesday of cancer.  He was 62.  I am hugely saddened, but grateful to have this wonderful memory of his musicality and his generosity of spirit. 

June has come and halfway gone, and still she hasn't written.....

Sorry, folks.  As so often happens, the time got away from me.

It's not as though I'm so busy, but I didn't want to bore you.  Really, what is more boring than listening to a contented person.  Well, maybe listenening to a dopehead tell you about his acid trip.  (It, of course, hasn't happened to me for a long time, but I still remember the excruciating boredom.....)

What can I tell you?  The more things change, the more they stay the same?  You no doubt already know that, but I did find this interesting.  While walking, I often listen to books on tape, and have recently completed The Path to Power by Robert Caro.  It is one of 4 parts to the biography of Lyndon Johnson (the fourth still being written, I believe - correct me if I'm wrong - and Mr. Caro must be a very old man by now).  It is an old book, and I'm sure those of you who are historians out there have already read it.  The point is, Johnson came from the hill country of Texas, a place that remained without electrticity after most of the rest of the country had it.  One of Johnson's first accomplishments was getting authorization for a hydro electric dam through Congress.  Even then, the power utilities often didn't want to, without the payment of exhorbitant fees, extend the lines to farms a mere 50 years off their grid.  As I'm reading this, I am hearing about all the places in Canada without access to high speed internet - or indeed, internet at all.  ...Well, as I said, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Our infected and dying numbers are down in British Columbia, and we are slowly, slowly opening up.  So, we are starting - carefully - to visit.  Friend Debbie came over for what turned out, accidentally, to be a birthday dinner.  And I enjoyed a drink in  the cockpit of a friends boat, at an appropriate distance, of course.  And John and Dennis and I actually went out for a drink at Earls the other day....

Normally, of course, I would have had the waitress take a picture of the three of us, but noone wants to touch someone else's phone or camera, so you'll have to make due with Dennis and John.  And note the space between groups in this very popular drinking spot....  Who knows how - or if - these places will survive...

John, a neighbor, I have been seeing throughout; he drops off the Economist every week, and I see him often when I am out walking and he is on a run or a bike ride.  But Dennis I haven't seen for the three months I have been in Vancouver, and it was great to experience the chemistry among us again.

I had heard Dennis though, if not seen him.  Friend and fourth of our bridge group, Tom, had arranged for the four of us to play bridge on line, while chatting (I said chatting, not cheating) on a conference call.  Once we all got the hang of it, it was great fun, and we are making a weekly thing of it.  Lots of laughs, but good bridge too.

What else is new?  A few more technological advnces.  I finally got a step tracker downloaded on my phone.  I know, I know, every one else has had them for ages.  I poo-pooed it, but you know, it is fun to keep track, and I am actually doing well.

And I have downloaded a classical music app.  It not only has music, but podcasts about music as well.  I know, I know, again I am late to the party.  But the pandemic has apparently brought a lot of people around to trying things they had meant to do for ages, and I do think I will enjoy this immensely.

So I'm branching out with my knitting too.  Still with socks and gloves, but ever more complex patterns and textures.  And branching out in my reading as well.  (You sure learn about your friends from their book recommendations....)  Brian brought me over two of the strangest books I have ever read....  One is a novel called Shakespeare's Dog, by Leon Rooke.  Actually, it is not quite truthful to say that I read this one.  I was intrigued by the premis, that is, a book written from the point of view of, well, Shakespeare's dog.  Suffice it to say, I didn't get very far.  The other was a book called Bear, by Marian Engel.  It is truly an only in Canada book, about a woman living for a short while in the back of beyond, and how she developed a relationship with, well, a bear.  This one I did finish - I found it compelling - but I can't claim to have understood it!!!

Tom brought over Josephine Tey's Daughter of Time.  I had, of course, read it years ago, but it was great fun to re-read it.  It brought back that unsettling moment when I first realized that everything you read in a book wasn't true.  The book is about a detective, injured in the course of bringing someone down, convalescing in an English nursing home and dying of boredom  His friends bring him tidbits to entice his curiosity.  The one that ignites his interest is a portrait of Richard III, and the ultimate mystery of whether indeed he did have his nephews in the Tower killed, a la Shakespeare, or not.  I will not spoil the mystery for you, but suffice it to say, I have been skeptical about everything I read since I first read it all these many, many moons ago.  I always ask, when was it written, who was in power, and who stands to gain.....

On a lighter note, Tom brought over three David Sedaris books, Dress your Family in Corduroy and Denim, Me Talk Pretty One Day, and When You are Engulfed in Flames.  I had heard Sedaris on NPR, but never read any of his books.  What a funny, funny man.  I highly recommend him, either by way of Podcast or any of his books.

Finally, the last of Tom`s current offerings is now on my bedside table.  It is Bill Bryson`s book called The Mother Tongue:  English and How it Got That Way.  I have read several of Bryson`s later books on Shakespeare.  He`s  a breezy writer, but knows his stuff, and makes it all - in this case, the development of the English language as we know it- seem like the most important thing in the world, believe it or not, a page turner.

Well, aside from that, still playing bridge on line every day, still walking (see below...)

...... I was fascinated by all the shades of green in what is, really, a mundane front plot of an apartment building...

... and the usual river traffic...

.....and the rare sight of a train on the tracks I cross on my daily walk....

There may actually be some work in my future.  Meanwhile, though, I`m having altogether too good a time....  Hope you are all well.  Be safe.... 

I'm Having a Good Pandemic

I know that sounds crass, as will my next comment - is this God's cull?  I know, these are our elders, blah, blah, blah.  I also know that the nursing homes were understaffed, with underpaid and underappreciated workers, and a national shame, blah, blah, blah.  But it is also true that we are keeping people alive who probably don't even want to be alive, and at huge expense.

I know, I know, this is not the way to do it.  But.....

But back to my personal experience, and perhaps yours.  I recently took the Province's survey about experiences of  COVID19.  One of the questions was, Name some good experiences which have resulted from the Province's response to the pandemic.  It made me stop to think about it, and there were actually several.

For one, I have discovered grocery delivery (thank you, Bill!!).  It has never been my favourite activity, grocery shopping, and during the pandemic, it is downright creepy.  And then there is the shlepping the groceries up from the parking garage.  On the other hand, InstaCart's web site is downright intuitive, even for someone as computer illiterate as I am.  And because they are delivering from the nearest low-cost provider, even adding the cost of the delivery and tip, it is cheaper than buying from the closer but higher priced provider. And, they deliver right to the door!!!  I might never go into a grocery store again. 

What else?  There is no traffic.  I actually verntured out the other day, to the newly reopened yarn store.  No, I don't need any more yarn, in spite of the fact that I have made two pairs of socks and three pairs of fingerless gloves in 8 weeks.  But I feel strongly about keeping yarn shops alive, so I wanted to give them a little business.  I needn't have worried; knitters will find a way, and their on-line business has been brisk.  However, I did go and buy some more sock yarn, and found that the usual 45 minute drive was now 25.  And there was actually parking right in front of the store.

The latest figure I've heard is that greenhouse gas emissions are down 17% because of the slow down in air and automobile travel.  Not such a bad thing. 

I've also found that I haven't forgotten how to cook.  A little rusty, maybe, but I'm really back into it, even just for myself.  So, that's a good thing. (Remind me to make you my mushroom chicken the next time I see you.  Or maybe my shrimp curry.  It's not like eating my favourite Chinese food, but not so bad...

And virtual bridge is in many ways better than the real thing.  There are fewer hands per session, less distraction, no food to eat, and the 7 minute per hand rule is strictly enforced (which real life directors are loath to do).  I'm playing much better, too, if the number of points I'm getting is any indication.  Well, I guess I should be playing better, I'm playing 7 days a week......

Finally, people are being much better about keeping in touch; between Scrabble games and bridge games and emails and phone calls, and meeting neighbors out on my now twice-daily 3 miles walks, and people coming to socially distant visit for coffee or a drink on my patio,  I am in touch with probably 4 or 5 people every day.

So, yes, I miss the gym, and zumba, and my hugs at the bridge club. I certainly miss the theater and all my musical events (I haven't been able to get into all the downloads available, although I appreciate the effort)  But all in all, I am faring very well.  I hope you all are feeling the same.

I have managed to read a bit.  One of the New Yorker articles mentioned Henry Houdine, and, in passing, noted that E.L. Doctorow's book Ragtime featured Houdini as one of the real-life characters.  I hadn't read that book for decades, and (are you surprised?) had it on my bookshelf.  I re-read it, and liked it even better this time.  I went on to another Doctorow book, Waterworks.  His writing style, although a bit dated now, reminds me of another favourite author, Eric Larson, previously mentioned in these pages.    While I was browsing, in my collection, I came across John Fowles, and have just read (maybe for the first time, I certainly don't remember reading it before) one called The Maggot.  A strange book; I must admit, I skipped some of the weirder bits, but was interested enough to finish it.  Then, I remembered the stash of books that friends brought over for my edification and delight, and am now engrossed in a thriller (a type of book I wouldn't normally read) called Cold Heaven by Brian Moore.  A strange book indeed, but again, I need to finish it.  And, as if I don't have enough bridge, I am rereading Victor Mollo's books, Bridge in the Menagerie, and Bridge in the Fourth Dimension.  If you are a bridge player and haven't read them, you should. 

All in all, I really have been mostly staying close to home though - the March 19th tank of gas for my car is still 3/4 full.  Below, the resulting photos of a lovely, if strange, spring.

....and as seen from my deck....

.....not quite the desert sky, but nice in a different way...

.....this is the foyer of my building.  I love it....

Our group of buildings is called Tugboat Landing (have I said?), and is full of, for want of a better term, industrial art like this...

.......keeping a safe social distance is not too hard these days (this path would normally be crowded, although not uncomfortably so).  Admittedly, it was 6:30 in the morning....

......and, of course, the flowers....

.......the egret has been more present than usual....

.....and the newest thing to keep (presumably) kids busy, painted rocks, randomly distributed around the landscape...

......and more flowers....

... these are all in the course of my local walks...

Well, you're up do date now (thanks for the prod, Carolyn).  Another walk calls....