[Above photo: A small fraction of Kate’s doll collection.]
15 December 2019
It is gray, rainy, and cool here—in the 50’s. So much for surfin’ USA. I am in Berkeley, so maybe LA is toasty. I have been meeting numerous friends who generously feed me. It is good to see them, but I realize that they have their lives and cannot ease my sense of rootlessness. Still, I am confirmed in my course.
As I took the BART to visit Stephen in SF, I sat in an empty seat next to a guy who looked a bit scruffy. He was friendly and enthusiastic, though, telling me how to transfer to the N Judah. He asked me if I was just riding around for the view. I mentioned I was going to see a friend who was ill. He became interested and conspiratorial, whispering behind his hand to me: “Tell him to spit. He’s got to spit deep, drink a lot of water and spit more. It will cure anything. But don’t tell anyone else.” “If it is so good, why keep it a secret?” Looking at me knowingly and rubbing his thumb and index finger, “It’s big money, Health Care. They’ll kill you.” Later, “I’m a musician. Can you help me a little?” I gave it some thought but suddenly about 30 6yo’s exploded onto the train with their teachers, a field trip to the Exploratorium. They were incredibly wiggly and noisy, making gestures, chatting with each other, and generally being excited. I think the electricity of their presence bothered my seatmate, as he jumped up and ran out the door, getting on a waiting train going the other direction. I wish I’d given him some money.
After my visit with Stephen—and he is a marvel of wit and humor, as always—I went to the DeYoung Museum and saw the Black Power exhibit. It spanned 20 years in the 1960’s and 70’s. We were in the Bay Area from 1968 onward, so it brought a lot of memories back. What was basically a social movement was so demonized by our government that it was forced to become militant and immolated. My friend Peter was a Newsweek reporter and one day we climbed up random structures on Telegraph Avenue during the People’s Park riots so he could photograph the National Guard troops and the tear gas coming down.
I also visited the MOMA with Ed and Robin and we saw an astounding installation by the French artist, JR. He set up cameras in 22 locations all over SF and interviewed over a thousand people. The installation is an unfolding scroll of images of people and a few animals which moves slowly and seamlessly across two walls at right angles and then starts again. Some of the images move independently some of the time. On a bank of iPods you can touch on each person and they will talk a bit about themselves and why they are in SF. I’m not explaining this well but it is remarkable and worthy of a visit if you are anywhere near. Or even if you aren’t.
I had a wonderful supper with my sailing buddy, Neil, and his wife (and my colleague), Marcia. Then a hilarious time with John and Laura. He is the Clinical Director of Seneca Center and is working on his second book about the program there. In all of the gatherings we share about our kids and our own ageing. I love the Alison Kraus/Cox Family song “I believe my steps are growing wearier each day, Still I have a journey on my mind.” And the line, “Lures of this old world have failed to make me want to stay” always catches my attention. I can imagine feeling that way but I surely don’t now.
The hiking group outing was more walk than hike, as we had a guide who toured us around historic buildings and sites in downtown SF, including roof gardens and redwood groves. The guide was terrific and so embellished his descriptions that we could easily imagine the original 49ers, the earthquake and the fire. Also, it was nice to see so many of the former hikers. Too many husbands are in care facilities with dementia, however.
I saw a couple of really good movies: “Queen and Slim” about an innocent black couple being pursued by the police. It was very moving. And “63 Up” from the “7 Up” series done by Michael Apted in UK. I have the others in the series, filmed every 7 years, on DVD but the sound quality is poor so I didn’t show it to my class as I thought they wouldn’t get it. The current one could have used better interviewing but, still, it is an amazing feat to have followed the cohort for 56 years. Relationships seem to be the common, important thread in the fabric of contentment for most of the subjects. The class system in England was front and center.
Today I drove to Mountain View to see my friend, Kate. She was a young nurse at the Alviso Family Health Center when I was a family doctor there. She has had a fabulous career as an international health educator all over the world. She has a PhD in Public Health and is a professor at Stanford. She and I see eye to eye about retirement: do it when you must stop for reasons of health. We both find our work more interesting than anything else we do so why stop? If I had grandchildren, I’d live near them in a minute, however.
Kate has assembled a magnificent, museum-quality collection of dolls from her many travels. She is desirous of donating them to Seneca Center, which would be a glorious home (behind glass) for them. I do hope it works out as it would benefit all, including the dolls.
I fear that our wily President has so stacked the deck with judges and the Attorney General, that the Dems have moved too quickly with proposals of “structural change” for many Americans, and that the economy is so good that DT may actually have a chance in 2020. What a terrifying thought!
A Psychiatrist in Myanmar 