The city smelled like a campfire yesterday. A large blaze in New Jersey near Greenwood Lake sent its smoke across the river and it covered everything. With the unseasonably warm weather we’ve had these past few weeks and the little rain that’s fallen, the brushfire has plenty of dry fallen leaves to use as tinder as it spreads.
We had some showers last night, but not enough to help. As of this morning, the fire’s still burning.
Somebody commented on my last post by saying I should take comfort in all the great things that would be coming my way with this new administration. I could expect my 401K to grow. (Our economy is already the best it’s been in several decades.) Our kids will be protected from the flood of fentanyl across our Southern Border. (Republicans voted against the last bi-partisan border bill. The main source of fentanyl in this country is China who ship it in via the mail. China is also where a huge amount of disinformation on topics like this has originated. If you are getting your news from TikTok, you are getting your news from China.)
The post went on to cover several more topics. Each bullet point was filled with misinformation and distortion. Rather than responding, I just deleted the whole comment.
The election is over. Continuing to bicker over the issues we used while we were voting is pointless. The die is cast. Opting not to engage in an unwinnable argument was the best decision I made all day.
Sometimes, there’s as much power in saying no, as there is in saying yes.
We are all trying to figure out what to do and how to feel after last week. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I am not interested in speculating who may or may not end up in the new Cabinet.
Nikki Haley, as much as I don’t like her or trust her, is someone with administrative experience. They announced yesterday that neither she nor Mike Pompeo, the former director of the CIA, would be offered seats at the table. Instead, we are going to get people like Elon Musk and the My Pillow guy.
I’ll be interested in seeing who is finally chosen, but worrying about it now is a complete waste of energy. The press can work themselves into as much lather as they like, but I am not taking the bait. When there is something real to react to, I’ll be there. Until then? I’m tapping out.
Michael and I went to see the Broadway production of Our Town yesterday. Talk about a perfect play to see for this moment in history.
Thornton Wilder, the play’s author described his work like this, “"Our Town" is not offered as a picture of life in a New Hampshire village or as a speculation about the condition of life after death. . . It is an attempt to find a value above all price for the smallest events in our life.”
With ticket prices having risen so high, and with producers trying to squeeze out as much return for their investors as they can, saying “no” to going might be the choice that many land on. There are, however, many versions of the play available online for free. Lincoln Center filmed a beautiful production starring Spalding Gray, Eric Stoltz, and Penelope Ann Miller back in the late 1980s. The last Broadway version starred Paul Newman as the stage manager. You can stream that one as well. There are countless others.
Don’t let this election or its possible future consequences keep you from living your life to its fullest in any way you can. There may very well be events and restrictions ahead that will negatively impact us, but hasn’t that always been the case?
Whatever comes to pass, it’s unlikely to be what we are expecting. Isn’t the election, itself, the best example of that? We may look back and think the result was inevitable, but that’s not what many of us thought at the time. None of us knew anything for sure until it happened.
The Christmas tree is going up at Rockefeller Center. It is a 74-foot-tall Norway spruce from Stockbridge, Massachusetts. It was planted by Leslie and Earl Albert in 1967 soon after they were married. When the Alberts first dug the hole to set the tree in place, the little sapling was only about three feet high. The spruce thrived. Until it grew too tall, the Alberts would always decorate it for the holidays.
Every year, Rockefeller Center’s gardener goes on a scouting trip to find that year’s tree. This year, the Albert’s spruce caught his eye. What the scout didn’t know was that a few days before he saw it, Leslie Albert had passed away. The family was thrilled to be asked to give up their tree. Sharing it with millions of New Yorkers and visitors from all over the world, was the best memorial to her, the family could imagine.
The nearly six decades the Alberts were married seems like an impossibly long time. I’m sure, though, if asked, Albert would say it flew by. They had kids, they took trips, they fixed leaks, they planted flowers, they went to the movies, they bought gifts, they laughed, they ate breakfasts, they washed dishes, they talked on the phone, they slept in their bed, they argued, they made up, they swept their front path, they watered their plants, they tried their hands at a paint-by-number, they lost their glasses, they cried, they changed light bulbs, they looked through old pictures, they went for drives, they celebrated holidays, they did all the million things we all do throughout our lives. They voted.
When looking back over everything they had together, how far down the list, I wonder, was worrying about an election? Even if it seemed like everything at the time, would that be something they would remember at the end of their lives?
We look to our elected leadership to protect and guide us. We put our faith in them so that we can get on with the lives we live and not be bothered by it all. When we choose people who fail us, we vote them out and choose other people. Even in societies where citizens are not allowed to participate in elections, when leaders fail to lead, they are eventually deposed. That might mean a bloody and brutal fight.
We tried to warn everyone what choosing this current slate of people would mean and they all chose not to believe us. The truth is, the people who voted against the politicians who won may all be wrong. Things may be fine. It sure doesn’t seem like they will, but I can’t say with any sort of definitive statement that they won’t.
The die has been cast so it’s time to get back to cleaning out the junk drawer, picking up our prescriptions, making a cup of coffee, calling our aunts, gluing the chip back into the saucer, charging our phones, wiping up the spills, washing our hair, recovering our chairs, dusting the bookshelves, and taking good long walks.
That’s where the joy in life is. It’s in the infinite number of little moments that follow inexorably after each other. We don’t need to use up the precious little time we are each given worrying about things that may or may not happen.
When we are called upon to act, I hope that most of us will answer with as much strength as we can muster. In the meantime, there’s little in our news feeds that’s worth spending our time on. We can stop watching for the moment. There are plenty of people around who will tell us when there is something worth paying attention to.
I am going to head to a museum today. For me, seeing how others channel their rage, frustration, and fear into art is inspiring. Spending some time with Thornton Wilder yesterday was a perfect use of my time. It was a blessing to be reminded of what’s important.
I’ll finish this by quoting the end of Mr. Wilder’s play. It says everything.
Stage Manager
Most everybody's asleep in Grover's Corners. There are a few lights on. Shorty
Hawkins, down at the depot, has just watched the Albany train go by. And at
the livery stable somebody's setting up late and talking. Yes, it's clearing up.
There are the stars doing their old, old crisscross journeys in the sky. Scholars
haven't settled the matter yet, but they seem to think there are no living beings
up there. Just chalk…or fire. Only this one is straining away, straining away all
the time to make something of itself. The strain's so bad that every sixteen
hours everybody lies down and gets a rest.
Hm…Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners…You get a good rest, too. Good night.
Not sure why, but I wept while trying to read this to Ben. After a quick composure break, I finished it. For me, it was a wonderful but wrenching read 🥹