Some +, Some –

[Above photo: The evening skyline from my 25th floor balcony in Toronto.]

17 October 2022

Life seems to hand us gifts and challenges. Duh! In preparation for flying to Toronto from Boston for the AACAP meetings, I reserved an off-site parking place, as the spare spot where I was staying would be unavailable for two days mid-week and to park for 6 days at the airport would cost more than my round-trip plane ticket. When I arrived in the North End from Portland yesterday, Polly pointed out that I had chosen a spot that would likely take most of an hour to get to in Monday morning traffic and the shuttle to the airport would have to retrace the same messy route to drop me off at Air Canada. She talked with two friends in her building who volunteered their extra spots and I left the car in her lot. With the normal amount of anxiety about rising early to catch a flight, I slept poorly. The alarm, which I had set properly for 6:30AM didn’t go off. I awoke at 6:38 and leapt into action, shaved, brushed, combed, packed, dressed in a trice, and was at the 7-11 Uber pick-up spot 6 minutes early. My driver, Juan from the Dominican Republic, who has been an Uber driver for 6 years and likes it, pulled in 4 minutes early. 10 minutes later I was getting out at Logan.

There was no check-in line since I was 4 hours early for my flight. That’s taking “not wanting to rush” too far! As I moved into security, the lady checking the passports said, “You don’t have to remove your shoes [like everyone else].”  Hm, too old to be a terrorist? Then a young thing approached me in the xray machine. “Why aren’t you going through the metal detector? Do you have metal on you?” I was taken aback and checked my pockets. “Like a pacemaker or something?” Jeez. Then my hernia began to ache—it had popped out, apparently. I had to lie down in order to get things back in the right place. I found an empty couch but was concerned, lest my groin-pressing activity, even if discretely managed, be construed as public indecency. Now that would be quite a story to tell the AACAP folks. Pop, it went in and no one was the wiser, I think. I was certainly reminded repeatedly of my advanced age; I’m the last to know, not surprisingly.  Probably my development is arrested somewhere between 15 and 25yo, depending on the day. So why these aches, this hernia, these cataracts, this—-What’s the name for it?—-memory issue with name-finding?

The flight was 25 minutes late, but seemed very short.  I didn’t have anyone sitting next to me, which was nice, and when I finally got to UP Express (the subway to Union Station), the senior rate was $6.20, a far cry from the $44 (including tip) for the 10 minute Uber ride. Union station is 2 long blocks from my condo. I was unable to get the key until 3PM, 20 minutes from my arrival time. But, there was a Starbucks right next door where I had a cappuccino and a warmed turkey sandwich.  

Everything seemed to balance out nicely, the columns of pluses and minuses.

I planted about 50 bulbs in my yard last week—crocus, daffodil, hyacinth, and tulips (from Holland, a gift of my friend Kate)–, covered the garden with mulch, watered it all down, and shall await lovely flowers next Spring. Crocus through the snow!  I so love gardening, planting and watching things grow. my kind of magic. Occasionally I think I should have bought a house with a larger yard. Only for a minute or two, however, as I lock up and walk off for a week without a worry.

I’m reading Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout, a celebrated Maine writer many of you may have read. Her Olive Kitteridge won her a Pulitzer. While the child-like neurotic utterances [It’s written in the 1^st person.] of the protagonist initially irritated me, and still does occasionally, the author is a master and spins a rich golden tale seemingly from straw.  It is very engaging. I also saw a play with a friend last week, “The Lifespan of a Fact”, at the Good Theatre, a company housed in a former church just around the corner from me. It was so clever and well-acted and their remodel of the interior of the church makes for a wonderfully intimate experience. I’ll go regularly when I’m in town. I also went two nights ago to hear a jazz group from Boston at the Portland Conservatory. The music was of their own composition, not particularly melodic but incredibly demanding to play and to play tightly together as a quartet. It was moving, but certainly not from The Great American Songbook.  I kept thinking of a cross between Dave Brubeck and Ornette Coleman, but that may simply betray my ignorance. My, but were they fine musicians!

I’ve rehearsed my talk a few times so I can keep it to 50 minutes and mostly cover what I want. How to distill the essence of a major life experience over 2+ years into 50 minutes? I can try and I shall let pictures speak their own volumes.  In fact, I’ll do it again now—once more with tenderness.

I am also very excited to go to the Bay Area in November to see numerous friends.   I’ve started writing to them, to alert them and see if they’ll be in town. It has been, literally, years.