Maine in Winter

[Above photo: A view of Blue Hill Falls today from my nephew, Rob’s, living room.]

25 November 2019

It is 34 F and drizzling rain. I’m going to try to write this now, at noon, despite having stayed awake until 4AM. I was stirred by many things but certainly by what I was reading: The Cult of Trump. It is a not very well written book by a former member of the Moonies Cult, endorsed by Phil Zimbardo and Robert Jay Lifton. He rather clumsily creates a good case for DT’s employment of his malignant narcissism to serve him as cult leader a la Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Jim Jones, David Koresh, Charles Manson, Osho, and a host of others. I know of no other reasonable explanation for the millions of his base who support him after all that has been revealed.  The cadres of Senators and Representatives who remain loyal despite all of his deceit are either complicit in his corruption or fear the effects of his wrath on their chances for re-election.  It feels like the 30’s in Germany as he continues to hold “rallies” to reassure himself and hypnotize his fans.  Part of my insomnia was a recognition, at yet another level, of the terrible threat to our ideals, as embodied in the Constitution. the Declaration of Independence, and the voices of many of our public servants.

The impeachment hearings have been riveting. Adam Schiff has been masterful, not engaging in foolish arguments and elevating the discourse, in parallel with the career diplomats, making a stark contrast with the desperate-to-distract Republicans.  All the cards haven’t yet been played but it seems likely that there won’t be a swell of defections in the Senate.  A criminal gang has co-opted our government, just as in Venezuela or Russia. It will be up to the People to determine with their vote in 2020 if we want more of the same.  I found myself wishing for a military coup.

In addition, it is exciting but unsettling to see my daughter. She looks wonderful and happy and appears to have carved out a good life for herself here. She is such an independent, creative, and courageous woman and I love to see her feeling on top of things. However, seeing her reminds me of our family of old, my son, and my failed marriage.

Finally, I had a walk and lunch with Linda, which was very nice. As always, she is a generous and magnificent cook with homemade ravioli, homemade flatbread and a salad from her garden. She very kindly gave me two collections of her tea bag paintings, one a home-made book of a-painting-a-day for our trip through Southern Africa a year ago. The other is a collection of bird watercolors that were on the wall of our bedroom in Blantyre. It just is strange to go our separate ways after all we shared and the wonderful times we’ve had.

I begin to think I may spend my last years without an intimate partner. It recalls to me a legendary Professor of Internal Medicine at Boston City Hospital. I don’t remember his name or medical school affiliation but he gave everything to his teaching, living in the hospital. I won’t do that and I suspect I’m being dramatic, especially since I am developing a strong social network in Yangon. I certainly focused most of my energy on my teaching and my students over the past year, however.

It is a shock to be in this cold after three years in the tropics. It is never less than 70 F in Yangon. I went to my storage space and pulled out a cap, fleeces, a down jacket, thick socks, and other warm clothing. Linda found some more at her home. So, I am alone in my nephew’s lovely summer house in Blue Hill, sorting out gifts and feelings and ordering books from Amazon to be sent to Berkeley for transport to Yangon. I’ll see friends for supper several nights and go for another walk with Linda.

Ariane will come tomorrow night for a meal. She’s working like crazy at the Brooklin Inn, as well as making wreaths (See wreathsisters.com. They ship.). Yesterday she and Sadie were at a friend’s farm with their food cart (trailer, really), selling a wonderful goat curry with rice, yoghurt, and a peach chutney made from a fruit tree on her property. She has bought a large, red, no-nonsense Toyota pickup truck to tow the food cart. Thanksgiving she’ll work at the Inn so I have a reservation for supper there.

I’m also reading The Wisdom of Whores by Elizabeth Pisani, an account of her work in the slums of Jakarta and, more broadly, the effort to contain the AIDS epidemic in Asia and Africa. The book pairs nicely with Factfulness, talking about how we make, and err in making, important decisions, largely for emotional reasons. Reason is truly a flea on the back of the elephant Emotion when we consider human choice. Her tales of the fluidity of sexuality and variety of gender identity in Indonesia and the reluctance of the government to accept and discuss them are instructive. It took Ronald Reagan 5 years to be able to acknowledge that there was a problem with HIV, despite so many deaths.

It is very beautiful here, despite the cold and rain. Perhaps because of the cold and rain, since it discourages migration. It suits me better in summer, however, despite my love of snow and snow sports. Perhaps if it were snowing now, I’d feel differently.