"Dying: a Memoir", by Cory Taylor

I can't say I "loved" this book: "Dying: a Memoir", by Cory Taylor.  It's hard to say that of a book about dying, one with much sadness and sad memories and anger.  But I found it personal, interesting and compelling.  It's a short book of 141 small pages...not a long read.  The author is dying from a ten-year battle with incurable melanoma; her book was first published in Australia in 2016, a couple of months before she died.  It is also filled with gratitude and acceptance. She surveys her life, especially the impact on it from her mother and her father.  She debates suicide, pros and cons, with herself, and makes  preparations for it.  Not long before her death, she gives her answers (on a radio program) to questions such as am I scared? do I have a bucket list? and what will I miss the most?  She describes her life-long passion for writing, starting with the magic of penmanship practice in elementary school.  And some individuals who tried to help her through the last phases of her life.  I am glad to have encountered Cory Taylor, and her personal reflections as her life was coming to its close.

Another Bad Word

After I related my "Three Bad Words" story to my son, Elliott, he recalled this story.  I had no memory of it (a not uncommon event with me), but I trust his version, which follows:

About age six, Elliott was out on the street playing with some friends  his age.  There were some older boys there, and they were taunting another boy, yelling "Georgie, Georgie, King of the Boners! Georgie, Georgie, King of the Boners!"

Elliott came into the house, and asked me what a "boner" was.

Of course, my first response was a demanding: "Who told you that word?"

He said he heard it on the street from some older boys he did not know.

Then, I told him a "boner" was a mental error.  For instance, in baseball, a dumb play might be called a "bonehead play".

However, it soon became clear (not sure how) that this what not the meaning that the older boys on the street were using.

So, I told Elliott that sometimes for a male adult, they can get excited, and then their penis gets very large and very hard, and that is a "boner".

Elliott, age six, said he found this explanation to be totally incomprehensible, as in "I have no idea what my father is talking about?"

Three Bad Words

This is a true story, as true as the memory of this 81-year-old can be.

-----------------------------------------------

In early September, Nadine and I visited Nadine's son Adam and his family. They have recently relocated to Richmond, British Columbia (a suburb of Vancouver).  Adam and Judith have two children, Elior, a seven-year-old boy,  and Na'amah, a three-year-old girl. The kids refer to us as Bubbie and Zayde.

One day Elior and I were walking home alone from a nearby park. We were about a block from Elior's house when the following conversation began:

Elior: Zayde, I know three bad words.
Me: Oh, really! What are they?
Elior: the N-word, the B-word, and the F-word.

Then he continued:

Elior: Zayde, what does the N-word mean?
Me: The N-word is a very bad and very hurtful word. You should never use it. I'm not going to tell you what it means. I think you should discuss it with your father and mother. Would you do that?

Elior shook his head, signifying that he was not willing to do that.
I thought about it some more. I know what the F-word is, and I know what the N-word is, but what's the B-word, I wondered?  I better check.

Me: Elior, is the B-word "bitch"?
Elior:  Yes. What does it mean?
Me: A bitch is a female dog.

We didn't go any further exploring why the B-word is a bad word.
A few moments later.....

Elior: Zayde, tell me some more bad words.
Me: Elior, I am not going to tell you anymore bad words.
Elior:  Then, Zayde, how will I learn more bad words?
Me:  Elior, you'll learn them from your friends.
Elior:  Zayde, how will they learn them?
Me: They'll learn them from their older brothers and sisters.

By this time, we had arrived at Elior's house.  We never got around to the F-word.

-----------------------------------------------

Later, I wondered: if a "bitch" is a female dog, what is word for male dog?  I Googled it and found the word for male dog is just "dog".  After the dog and the bitch have offspring, he is a "sire" and she is a "dam". So, technically, no canine can be a son-of-a-bitch...he is a son-of-a-dam.

Paying too much attention to the President??

I have to write this, just to blow off some steam that has been building for months.

First, with whom to be disappointed?  
Some prominent possible choices are: Donald Trump, Trump family members, the approx 1/4 of the US electorate who voted for Trump  the approx 1/2 of the US electorate who did not vote, and, finally, the "institution" of the US electoral college.

- Trump? No. I never expected anything good from him.
- His family members? No. That they would moderate his tendencies was a fantasy promoted by some, I suppose out of desperation and grief.
- Those who voted for Trump? Probably.  I'm tempted to say to them now: "How's that working out for ya?"  But most of them probably think it's fine.  And they have one vote each, more or less, just like me.
- Those who did not vote? Yes!!  If more Americans do not get involved, I can see clearly where the nation is headed.  Young people, minorities, the poor, the less educated: where were you on election day?  Do you care?
- The electoral college? Yes!!  This is hardly an "institution", but more just a set of rules, but a set of rules that are unfair (at least in a democracy).  This antiquated relic of a political compromise, over 200 years old, has now burnt progressive Americans twice in the last 16 years, and we can see the negative consequences: Iraq war, Trump, etc.  Could it be changed? Yes.  Will it be changed? Very unlikely in my opinion, since it currently favors the right, and why would they be willing to participate in changing it, and their participation would be required.

Second, "Trump approvals".  
As usual, we watched to the PBS NewsHour Friday night, which on Fridays includes a session of the political analysis and commentary of Brooks and Shields (except this time it was Brooks and Marcus).  David Brooks is the more conservative of the two.  They were commenting on Trump's European trip, including his speech in Warsaw and his meeting with Putin in Hamburg as part of the G20 meeting.

Regarding the Warsaw speech, Brooks gave Trump some good marks, especially on his comments about "Western civilization".  I can not concur.  To suppose that Trump is a defender of Western civilization is ludicrous.  I doubt that without a teleprompter, Trump could speak at any length about what Western civilization is, or what is good about it.  When prompted, he may say nice things about it, it may say that he is here to defend it, etc.  But his actions are just the opposite.

A clock that is not running is still correct twice a day.  But to say that "the clock is correct sometimes" is a very misleading statement.  I am not comparing Trump to Hitler, but even Hitler probably did some good things for Germany; made the trains run on time, maybe?  That does not mean that we should speak approvingly of his speeches about German culture or civilization.  Likewise to complement Trump because he made a few positive (or even true) remarks is like approving the child who did not study for his test, but got some of the answers right.

David Brooks has a strong moral component to his thinking, and he thinks in the long term, traits which I admire. Part of my disappointment with Brooks goes way back the the days of "W", when Brooks admired Bush's "strategic vision".  Bush had no strategic vision.  Whatever drove his foreign policy it was not a strategic vision.  It may have been revenge, it may have been the influence of Cheney and/or Rumsfeld, but it was not any strategic vision arrived at on his own.  He may have been a interesting guy to have a beer with, but not to discuss long-term visions or strategies.  Bush and Trump share at least one common trait: they were both born on 3rd base, and think they got there by hitting a triple.

Brooks also made some positive remarks about Trump's strategic thinking.  Again, just because someone gets a few things right,  does not make him a role model or a strategic thinker to be admired or complimented.   For many persons, being complimented on a good deed or utterance, might reinforce more of the same behavior.  I don't think it works that way with Trump.

Trump is being treated often in the media the way Bush was, as a simple, not-very-deep thinker, who is to be praised when he says or does something seemingly profound or good.  This dumbing-down of expectations is what many seem to be worried about.

Lastly, unending analysis and discussion about Trump and what he says or Tweets.
As with many other issues and incidents, there has been almost unending commentary in the media in the last two days about Trump's meeting with Putin: who said what, what did they mean, that there were no notes taken, who won or lost as a result of the meeting, who is up/who is down, what's the spin afterwards, etc, ad infinitum.

So much energy and time is being spent in the media parsing what Trump says or Tweets, what his motivations are, as though there was a glimmer of intelligence there.  Psychiatrists debate whether or not they should speak out about Trump; thanks, but I don't need your professional opinion to decide what I think about Trump!  We now know all we need to know.  He is self-centered, unfeeling, insensitive, and preoccupied with his public perception and "winning".  The worst thing for Trump is not negative press, but NO press; "call me anything but just don't call me late for dinner."  Claiming the press as his adversary is a gift to himself.

Could we dial-down the coverage?  For sure, let's focus on what Trump and his administration actually do; what concrete actions do they take, of which there have been many.  But let's ease up on the reporting and analysis of what he says.  For we know that Trump is never confined or invested in what he has said.  If it still works for him, then it's still good; if not, then it's not what he meant, or he never really said that, or it's "fake news", or all of the above.  There will be no end to chasing after meaning or information in what he utters.

After saying all this, I realize how unreasonable it is.  David Brooks and all the media make their living by writing and saying things that will be read in papers, watched on TV, or listened to on the radio.  Much of the public, and especially many who voted for Trump, love this stuff; it replaces the soap operas and reality TV; it is the new reality TV, filled with drama.  Therefore, it must be reported.

There is a small glimmer of  hope in our personal realms.  Recently, on several occasions, Nadine and I have gone to lunch or dinner with friends, and I have requested, as we sat down together, that we not discuss Trump for the duration of the meal, typically between one and two hours long. The first time I asked this, the immediate reaction, after a small pause, was "OK".  The next statement, somewhat jokingly, was "So, what will we talk about?"  But we did manage to talk about a lot of other things.  So refreshing and freeing!!  Am I hiding my head in the sand.  Maybe, but at times I need that.

Thanks for listening.  I feel a little bit better for having gotten these thoughts off my chest.

People leaving our lives

We have had two "losses" in recent days, of people we interacted with frequently, who we probably will never see again.  Nadine and I both feel sad about this.

Angela worked at Peet's coffee, at 3rd and Fairfax, just across the street from Farmer's Market.  Nadine, a coffee maven, will only go to Peet's for coffee, except in extreme duress.  I'm more relaxed about where I get my coffee, but liked Peet's a lot, and the staff that work there.  We are in there about two or three times a week.  We know them, and they know us.  Angela was always cheerful, happy to see us, and interested.  This week she is leaving for a year to go to Japan.  Not sure exactly what she will be doing there.  First heard she would be back for some goodbyes on July 2, but now are told by other staff members that she has already left.  We will miss her, and miss having the chance to say good-bye to Angela.

Yesterday, we went to a local restaurant, Fiddlers, for breakfast with Nadine's cousin Natalie.  There was a handwritten sign posted on the door with special hours for the day, but we did not pay much attention to it.  (It's a holiday weekend).  After getting seated in a booth, asked the waiter (who was new to us) if he could clean up a spill on the floor near our booth.  "No one here who can do that".  Asked for hot tea, while waiting for Nat to arrive; it never came; he seemed annoyed by our presence.

After Natalie arrived, one of the regular servers, Pam, came and took our orders.  Ours included pancakes.  Shortly thereafter, Pam came back and told us that there "no pancakes today".  It was clear we were startled by this, and then Pam told us that it was the last day, that Fiddlers was closing, that she thought we already knew, until it became clear to her that we did not know what was going on.

The staff only got one week's notice.  And of course no severance package; it's a small business.  Pam, Vivian and Joey were our regular servers at Fiddlers.  Pam has worked there 17 years.  Vivian used to be our neighbor, when we lived in the garden apartment in Park La Brea.  (She moved before we did.)  Joey always wore the same hat at work.  Now, we will probably never see them again. Feels sad.

We wish them all well.

Stream of Conscious

My mind is hard at work much of the time, reliving the past, often with regrets and sadness, or planning for the future.  (Overall, my mind spends more the future than in the past.)  Our meditation teacher, Diana Winston, says wouldn't it be interesting if we had loudspeakers mounted on our foreheads, that broadcast all the thoughts going thru our minds. It would be chaotic to be in a group of people like that.  Here is a little of my stream of consciousness from this morning.

Nadine came out while I was having breakfast and reading the paper.  Because Nadine was born in Pittsburgh, I told her that Pittsburgh had won the Stanley Cup.  She thought it was given to an individual.  I explained it was given to the team that won the NHL title.  Pittsburgh has now won two years in a row.

Later, at the SOVA food pantry, I was telling this to a co-volunteer, Walter.  Walter told me that his ex-wife was from Pittsburgh.  Of course, from the Squirrel Hill neighborhood; that's were all the Jews lived then, and many still do.  I asked if they ever went back to Pittsburgh; they did not.

Nadine and I went back to Pittsburgh once, when our cousin Morgan graduated from Carnegie-Mellon.  It was the only time she ever went back; her family left Pittsburgh when Nadine was about five, shortly after WWII.  (Walter is about my age; he said that his ex-wife also left Pittsburgh when she was a little girl.)

While we were in Pittsburgh, we visited cousins on both sides of Nadine's family.  We went to dinner with some of her father's, Charlie's, family.  I sat next to Charlie's younger brother, Max, who was then in his eighties.  Max didn't look a lot like Charlie, but I remember that there was something very familiar feeling, as though Charlie was sitting there, in Max's seat.  Maybe Charlie and Max had some of the same aura about them; maybe it was the same old Pittsburgh accent; maybe something else.  There is so much of my experiences that is not thought, but just felt.  We know a lot, but much is hidden from the "knowing" part of our minds.

Parking Is Risky

My friend Alan is in his 70's, and in a long-term committed straight relationship.  Recently, he drove to pick up a male friend.  Alan found a parking place at the curb across the street from his friend's building, and waited for his friend to come out.

Someone opened the rear door on the driver's side of his car, got in, and sat down.  The lady was young and quite attractive.  She asked if it was  "OK" for her to bring her dog, "Princess",  a small white dog which she held in her arms.

Alan deduced quickly what just happened, and said "I'm sorry, but I'm not your Uber car."

The young woman apologized, and started to step out of the car.

Just then, Alan's friend showed up, to see the attractive young thing exiting Alan's car.  Alan had some explaining to do.