A Skipped Month

[Above photo: Old generals and their soldiers along the Portland foreside.]

10 February 2024

I realized this morning that I have missed a month of writing my blog. I began it in 2016, writing weekly, and continued at that pace until last summer, when it tapered off. I want to reassure myself, and others who might care, that it isn’t a reflection of my approaching senility. It is coming soon, no doubt. I have been writing—and re-writing— like crazy, but memoir, often for courses on the same. I’m loathe to abandon this little record just yet, especially as it helps me to feel connected to my friends in California (most of whom likely no longer read my ramblings).

I have a clown show—no, a circus—in front of me right now. 6 feet from where I am sitting 8 Starlings are acrobatically battling for eminent domain of my suet feeder. The arrival of a newcomer generally causes the others to flap to nearby branches. They are “nuisance” birds, I know, but are beautiful and athletic. Often 3 or even 4 will be hanging on the feeder, pecking at the suet. This is a tiny wire box, suspended 3 feet beneath a small tree branch, 20 feet above the sidewalk. They often will hold on with their feet upside down, flapping their wings to get a little lift, and craning their necks to feed. My male Downy Woodpecker, considerably smaller than the Starlings has just arrived. Let’s see what he does. Ha, he chased a Starling away! But now he has retreated to a limb of the tree, looking surprised. Next, he has the feeder to himself and is pecking like crazy.  His black and white markings, capped by a bright red streak on the crown of his head, are handsome in this sparklingly sunny Maine morning.

I read Seiji Ozawa’s obituary in the NYTimes today. What a force! Some people are so endowed with multiple types of intelligence and, at least as important, are freely able to use them. Genetics, childhood relationships, exposure and education, and circumstance all played a role in giving us this giant of a conductor whose brilliance and work ethic impressed so many in the European world, leading us to abandon our stupid prejudices that Asians couldn’t possibly grasp and express the depths of feeling embedded in Bach, Beethoven, or Brahms, our Western composers. Did this come from Hollywood WW2 movies showing the eye-glint of fanaticism of the kamikaze pilots? Now look at how many amazing Asian musicians are celebrated in the very top rank of performers. From Pablo Cassals to YoYo Ma, both own the Bach Cello Suites with their own powerfully moving interpretations.  I was pleased to learn that my mother and father-in-law, Mineko and Johsel Namkung, both studied at the same conservatory in Tokyo, Toho, as Ozawa. Six degrees of separation by marriage!

God, the Trumpist trumpets blare the same destructive and boring tune. It is tiresome. Yes, Joe is old, as is Donald. Who looks healthier, however? Who eats only cheeseburgers? Yes, he makes some errors with his speech; but nothing compared with the Donald, who confuses Nikki Haley with Nancy Pelosi, Biden with Obama, Putin with a friend, etc. So do we all, even ironically the newsperson who was interviewing a Democratic congressman and reversed the subject and object in her statement—-I can’t find it but she said something like, “Yes, but he (Joe) occupies the most powerful land in our office.”  

If we step back from ad hominem attacks, cruel or crude nicknames, and look at policy achievements for the current and past presidential terms, we can see whose administration has been transformative in moving us toward a fairer, safer and more equitable realization of our stated and written national aspirations. Trump inherited a great economy and his only significant achievement, other than minimizing Covid and angering all our allies, was to increase the national debt massively via a tax cut for the wealthy and corporations. I won’t recite the Biden administrations many and very significant accomplishments achieved in ¾ of the time.

Now, after demanding immigration reform and achieving a bipartisan compromise, Donald instructs his party to sink it since he wants to deprive Joe of a victory and attempt to use immigration as a cudgel in the upcoming election. Note his focus on his own victory, not the welfare of our country or the migrants. Most worrisome is that most of the GOP cowers before his mad selfishness, which includes cozening up to Vladimir Putin. And he continues to advocate violence for “revenge” or in order to silence people.

The above rant reminds me of many a dinner party in Malawi ruined by impassioned talk of Brexit or Trump.

I had a wonderful two days of skiing at Medawisla, the Appalachian Mountain Club lodge many hours north and west of here. It was cold and had just snowed, so conditions were perfect. Those staying there, as always, were fun; cross country skiing is a pretty good filter, like kayaking or backpacking, for compatibles. As we pulled into the lodge at 11PM, Lindsey noted that he forgot his ski boots. I quickly realized that I forgot to transfer mine to his car. We could have snowshoed but luckily the manager had two pairs to lend which fit us and our bindings perfectly. Lindsey also forgot the battery for his c-pap machine; the bunkhouses have electric lights but no outlets for charging. He slept on a comfortable couch in the main lodge; everyone went to bed by 9:30PM. It all worked out.

The lodges generally try to have a certified naturalist to give talks over the weekends. Two women this time talked about the night sky and animal tracks, and, on the second night, foraging for mushrooms in Maine. As a result, I purchased a mushroom book and joined the Maine Mycological Society for outings in the summer. This year, as I previously have noted, was banner for mushrooms because it was wet until mid-July. Glasses are always both half-full and half-empty! My quest is for black trumpets: delicious, abundant, and easily identified (ie, safe). Remarkably, the naturalists had reconstructed an entire vole skeleton which they found in an owl pellet and glued it to a posterboard. It makes sense that the owl would consume its entire small prey at a single setting. It gave me a new interest in owl pellets.

Life hums along. A few health concerns seem minor at present and are under investigation. I took supper to the neighbors, who I like a lot, last night, including his sister from SF and their elderly aunt from Cambridge, who is failing and needs care. She erupts into intense screams inexplicably at times. Her husband was an academic astronomer. When I mentioned that my Harvard roommate, Peter, had taken a course in his freshman year with the eminent astronomer, Madame Payne-Gaposchkin, who encouraged him to go into astronomy, she waxed eloquently and extensively, rising to the moment. She knew her and was once tapped to type the manuscript for a book by Madame’s husband, Sergei, also an astronomer.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin completed studies at Cambridge but wasn’t awarded a degree; women had to wait until 1948 for that. Realizing her opportunities in England were limited, she came to the US and was awarded the first PhD in astronomy for a woman at Harvard. Her thesis has been considered the most brilliant and important PhD thesis in astronomy and is foundational to modern astro physics. Later, she was the first woman promoted as a full professor from Harvard’s Faculty of Arts and Science and also was the first woman appointed as a department chair at Harvard. A remarkable woman and scientist. I digress.

After supper, and it was superb if I say so, 4 of us hiked to the State Theatre to watch night one of the Banff Mountain Film Festival.  There were pretty remarkable stories told, like the 35yo with cystic fibrosis who recovered from Hodgkins Disease and developed technical climbing accomplishments which were world-class. There was a pair who ascended and then base-jumped off a terrifying and remote granite pillar, whose face was the height of El Capitan, in the Hindu Kush.  I most enjoyed the humorous antics of two characters who entered the largest cross country ski race in the US while skiing tandem—two sets of bindings on one pair of skis—in an act of revenge and justice. It was done very well. They placed pretty high, certainly first in their division of 1.

Life ain’t bad. I still teach regularly by Zoom in Myanmar. My roommate there and his girlfriend, now in Laos, have asked me to join them trekking in Nepal next October. If I can work it in around a trip with another friend-couple to a week-long music festival in Cape Breton, I’m inclined to do it. Depending on how my trip up Mount Katahdin goes this summer.

I hope anyone reading this is in good health and not having to hang upside down and flap in order to get a meal.