Blackened, Blue, Bewildered

Finally, I can sit at my keyboard with minimal pain from surgery.  Also, my head is clearer than when I wrote my last entry.

This is a two subject piece but they are related as I’ve come out of surgery pretty beaten up, dark, angry purple bruises on both legs and staples holding the pacemaker “wound” together on my chest, with limited range of my right arm, essentially a metaphor for how I feel about the election.

We all now know that if it were not for the arcane Electoral College method of electing the president, Clinton was the clear winner.  So Trump was right in saying beforehand (haven’t heard it after the election from him, wonder why?) that the system is rigged.  Can you imagine if the results were exactly opposite, Trump winning the popular but losing the EC?  Instead of the relatively peaceful protests we’ve seen spontaneously erupting around the country, we’d have Trump’s heavily armed militia in the streets.  Revolution and bloodshed.  So, in a way, for the safety of our citizens at least short term, this outcome has that one benefit.

Long term, it’s a different deal.  There are so many issues where an unrestrained Trump presidency can wreck the future of this country and the world, that it would be senseless to detail them all here. 

First, though, as much as I thought Trump’s candidacy was a joke during the initial months of the primaries, I took it quite seriously later, my fear growing in direct relation to his Teflon ability to say anything and, what used to matter, our 4^th estate -- the Press -- having little effect to act as a foil.  If I was in a prolonged coma and came out of it to hear a presidential candidate talk about shooting someone on 5^th Ave. with no consequences, grabbing women by their pussies, etc., I would have thought the Press would have been able to eviscerate that candidate long ago.

But cyber bullying was the factor in this campaign which made it unique.  Facebook and Twitter had more to do with the outcome of this election than all the newspapers and TV news media combined. Trump’s attention span is ideally suited to 140 character tweets and his reality TV personality gave him entrée to TV coverage whenever he wanted it, gratis.  And in spite of his racist overtone, he did carry a persuasive populist message, the forgotten plight of the white middle class male.  Whether he can make good on promises to that minority group is highly unlikely, especially with his tax cut proposals which will benefit his own economic class most.  (I don’t believe in trickle down prosperity. The “wealth effect” is to make the wealthy wealthier.)

So based mostly on anecdotal evidence, I thought Trump had a better chance than the polls reflected.  I grew up only a couple of miles from his neighborhood in Queens, NY and we’re almost the same age.  Although more than 50 years have passed since I’ve lived there, if I close my eyes when Trump speaks I hear street talk I’m familiar with.  Between his celebrity status and his strong appeal to the middle class, people were willing to overlook the big picture and especially loved the way he took down the ruling oligarchy (including the now vestigial Press and traditional mass media).  And given the unpredictability of what people do in the privacy of the voting booth (perhaps ashamed to be backing Trump publicly, but will pull the lever for him privately), I went into surgery thinking that this election was a tossup, especially with the FBI making unprecedented statements to Congress and Wiki Leak’s one sided email revelations, so ripe for Trump’s conspiracy campaign (imagine if the RNC’s emails were similarly exposed). 

Thus, nothing about election night truly surprised me.  In fact I called the outcome at 9.20 PM, turned off the TV and went to bed with the residual effects of anesthesia still in my system.  I woke up in pain throughout the night but refused to look at the TV or phone to confirm “my call.”  The next morning my heart sank, in spite of being prepared for the outcome.

So here’s the existential dilemma: how does one, as a citizen of a country he/she loves, support its new leader, while having complete disdain for that leader, his policies, his narcissistic disorders, and fearing the damage he and his administration might do?

While I could go into a long litany of all the specific issues, I’m trying to look at this from 50,000 feet so they don’t overwhelm. To me, I see a world undergoing turbulent change, hastened by a technology revolution.   The industry I came from – publishing --is just one example of the incredible forces of creative destruction that technology has fostered.  More books are being published (including e-books) using far less labor than in the past.  The majority of book titles are now printed on demand.  Warehouses are not needed for those and the process is completely automated.  The whole landscape has changed.  Robots now make the majority of heavy industry products.  This trend is only accelerating.  Capital finds the most efficient venues for its deployment.

Anyone who believes that Trump can simply bring back manufacturing jobs like we once had is self-deluded, abetted by the master manipulator himself, Donald Trump, who told the victims of disintermediation what they wanted to hear…….that things would return to the way they were. 

I do believe there is a path to expanding jobs and prosperity for the forgotten middle class, but it means abandoning the past and embracing the future.  America’s export is intellectual capital and technology.  Our educational system needs to reflect those realities and build our industries with those as a foundation.  Let the manufacturing of goods that require handwork reside in low cost labor countries, such as those which made Trump’s hats.

Going further up from a 50,000 foot overview you see a planet whose delicate atmosphere which protects us from the sun’s ultraviolet light and governs the balance of glaciers, oceans, and climate – all under siege.  Can we afford to aid climate denial forces in our society, simply because it is the easy, short term answer to some of our economic ills?  Here again is both a threat and an opportunity, an opportunity to develop the alternative energy and mass transportation industries, a win-win situation, jobs and a healthier environment for future generations.  America has to lead other countries in this effort. 

We seem to be at a Malthusian tipping point in the history of the world.  Population is growing exponentially but while Malthus was concerned about the food supply keeping pace, little could he foresee the other factor, now a bigger part of the equation of whether humanity can survive changes to the environment itself because of our addiction to fossil fuels.  

So these are just some of the big picture things I’m concerned about.  I want to support my President but I fear that progressives will have to fight tooth and nail, hoping the country can hang on for four years.

If I’m around then, it will because of incredible medical technology, the kind that allowed me to survive my fourth pacemaker implantation with the removal of existing leads being the most dangerous part of the operation.  New leads then had to be implanted, these being MRI compliant which my old leads were not.  As I age, an MRI is inevitable.  First they had to connect me to a temporary pacemaker as I am 100% dependent on the ventricle pacing by threading leads through each of my legs and then to a temporary pacemaker during the operation. Then they opened my chest to remove the existing pacemaker and begin the long arduous task of removing the existing leads, an operation of great delicacy to not injure the heart.  Unfortunately, a small part of the lead in the atrium broke off and the surgeon felt it was just too dangerous to go after that last piece and thus I lost the MRI compliant feature.  Overall the operation went well and now I’m trying to rest and rehabilitate,

I’m grateful to family and friends who expressed so much care and particularly to my wife, Ann, who stayed with me in the hospital room, sleeping on an uncomfortable cot, and watched over things for me, shaving my chest, stomach and legs and helping me take the first of two antiseptic showers before the operation.   I can’t say enough positive things about the nurses at the University of Miami Hospital.  To me they are as important as the surgeon, maybe more so.

Thus, I am slowly getting back to form, but to a political landscape that has been shaped by fear and intolerance.  I have low expectations that Mr. Trump can suddenly function as the leader we all need to help us coalesce as a nation.  His narcissistic personality must be fed and that is going to be a constant obstruction to doing the right thing, such as selecting Cabinet members who are NOT just yes people or those connected to his business interests or family.  Can one imagine Sarah Palin, a climate change denier as Secretary of the Interior as rumored?  He’s already appointed a denier, Myron Ebell, as the head of the EPA transition team.   

My good friend, Artie, reminded me of H.L. Mencken’s prophetic quote from nearly 100 years ago:  “As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people.  On some great and glorious day, the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be occupied by a downright fool and a complete moron.  Perhaps that time has come.

Nonetheless I’m desperately trying to end this with something positive:  Trump is now going to become OUR President and I for one will try to give his administration a chance to do some of the right things for the nation as a whole.

After I wrote the preceding though, I read David Remnick’s incredible article from the November 9 issue of The New Yorker, “An American Tragedy,” perhaps the most important of the many I’ve read.  Highly commended.  

Update

Overall the operation was a success.

Home the day after in some pain and residual stupor from four hours under anesthesia. But nothing can compare to waking up this first morning home to the election results, with ominous implications for the world order and the environment.

We should be careful what we wish for but as difficult as it is, time for coming together as a nation and giving the new administration the chance to work for all people. More when I feel up to sitting at my computer. 

Another Health Hurdle

The last time I faced a really serious health problem was sudden open heart surgery.  It was a 15 day ordeal in the hospital, with excessive bleeding and intubation complications causing the long stay and a difficult recovery.  But eventually I got back on the proverbial horse and have been happily riding the trails of life again.

My heart problems are not only those of the “plumbing” variety but electrical as well. As a 54 year old I had to have a pacemaker implanted as my heart was beating only 30 BPM, even though I was going through my usual day at work, driving, etc.  I noted I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without becoming breathless.  My doctor couldn’t believe I made it through the day without passing out and I was checked into the emergency room.

They suspected an advance case of Lyme disease, which can affect the heart’s electrical system, so I was placed on high dose antibiotics to see whether that would solve the problem.  It did not so a week later a pacemaker was implanted.  That was twenty years ago.  During that period I’ve had the pacemaker replaced two times and the battery on this, the third, is now running down so I thought I would soon be getting my fourth.  Not a big deal swapping pacemakers.  This time around though I was told that the leads implanted 20 years ago were beginning to fail and, now, I am 100% dependent on the pacemaker and have no residual 30 BPM in the bucket.  My life literally hangs by wires connected to a minicomputer under my skin, and a battery.

This is a much more delicate operation, my most serious one since open heart surgery.  Normally this procedure does not involve the invasive opening for bypass surgery, but if anything goes wrong, it could, something I was told I would not “tolerate well.” Nonetheless, I must have a lead extraction; no choice here. 

Rather than going into the details of such an operation, this is a good site if anyone is interested.   The procedure can take up to six hours.

I’ll be going to a leading specialist for such operations, Dr. Roger Carrillo at the University of Miami hospital. So, again, I’m in the hands of a skilled physician at a critical health impasse.  It’s hard not to feel a sense of anxiety, recalling Bette Davis’ comment “growing old isn’t for sissies.”  It is reassuring though to be in good hands, and to have the support of friends and family, and, particularly, my wife, Ann.

I like the early mornings so I leave this entry with pictures of the recent Hunter’s Moon setting down our waterway and the sun rising over the golf course where I walk most mornings.

September Transatlantic Voyage

As with the last entry, this is more of a photographic essay of our recent European trip.  A description of the entire trip can be found here while the photographic summary of our week in London is here.

On September 5^th we boarded the Caribbean Princess at Southampton for our return to New York City.  For us, it is a large ship, probably the largest we’ve been on, our preference being smaller cruise ships.  This ship has a gross registered tonnage of 113,561 tons, holding a maximum of 3,573 passengers and 1,227 crew.  Its length overall is 946 feet, merely 100 feet shorter than the Chrysler Building in New York City.  It went into service in 2004 and it is showing its age; I understand it is going in for refurbishing this coming spring.  It needs it.  Being an old salt, my first order of business when we got into our room was to inspect the sliding door to our balcony, knowing that was the only barrier between us and potentially high winds and pitching seas.  Although on the 9^th level, I have seen seas that big in our travels.  The door could not be locked.  I examined the door hardware and it was completely corroded.  A sliding, unlocked door in heavy seas is a serious hazard, so I called the desk and to their credit they promptly sent up an engineer who took the door apart and replaced the entire mechanism.  I just wondered how the previous guests failed to note that.

Some other negatives was a library which was devoid of books– and with a full ship and people everywhere –I did my reading in our cabin without the constant interruptions from the activities director – “the casino is open!” or “try your luck at bingo!”  But, admittedly, the Princess Cruise line, like many of them, is trying to appeal to more of a mass market, endeavoring to squeeze every last buck out of each passenger.  The entertainment in the theatre was pedestrian, although they did have a couple of production shows which, for a ship, were decent, including one dedicated to classic Broadway shows.  These were high energy and enjoyable.  

But, please, spare us the comedians, the hypnotists, and the jugglers, etc.  We never went to those.  Actually, the best entertainment was a cocktail timed performance of a violinist and a guitarist who played classical and Great American songbook pieces in the atrium.  But try to find a seat with so many people!

Nonetheless, our choice of making this voyage was predicated on the itinerary and the timing, not the ship itself, especially with multiple ports in Norway and Iceland, two of our favorite places visited in prior trips.  So what follows is primarily a photographic record of our 17 day crossing.

First stop after 229 NM (nautical miles; 1 NM = 1.15 Statute Miles) journey overnight was Rotterdam.  Very little of the old city is left because the Nazis bombed it into submission in four days in 1940, the Netherlands surrendering after witnessing the carnage.   So the city was rebuilt, most in a stark modernist and utilitarian style, a city now of contrasts.

Then onto Bergen, Norway, 572 NM.  We had booked a side tour by boat of the fjords but after seeing Alaskan fjords on two different trips, this was a bit of a disappointment, but still beautiful.  The best part was the city itself and its architecture. 

Still, some of the most beautiful photos were ones on the way to the fjords.

After, lunch at seaside, from the sea,

 

to the table.....

Children on their way to school ...

A short 182 NM trip took us to Flam, the highlight of which was a trip on the Flam railroad and a brief stop at the Flam Kjosfossen Waterfall.

Along the route an amusing sign.

Flam is a picture post card town.

Then 100 NM onto Lerwick, in the remote Shetland Islands of Scotland.  The was to be a tender port and although the ship dropped anchor, due to Gale force winds and heavy swells, the Captain announced he could not commence tender operations, a great disappointment, particularly to the Scottish couple we sat with during lunch – their second such cruise to this destination and neither time could they disembark because of weather.  Thankfully, my telephoto lens brought some of the countryside into view.

A 686 NM journey over the next few nights brought us to Akureyri, Iceland.  It was FREEZING there. The highlights were the Godafoss Waterfall and their small but interesting botanical gardens (yes, a botanical garden in Iceland)!

Akureyri to Isafjordur was a 171 NM journey from hell -- a head sea of up to 27 feet, with a 40 MPH head wind.  But well worth those moments of fear, as the small town of Isafjordur (a year round population of less than the ship’s passengers!) had some of the most picturesque scenes, captured here:

Another 196 NM to Reykjavik.  We were last there in 2012 and enjoyed the 12 hour “golden circle” tour and saw that wonderful part of the country.  This time around we wanted to spend some time in the city itself but again there were near gale winds and it was a raw, drizzly day, not ideal for walking around.  We did disembark but after ten minutes outside we disappointingly headed back to the ship.  Also, that evening we were told that the ship could not leave port because it was pinned to the dock by wind.  The following day, we needed the assistance of two tug boats to pull the ship off the dock and turn it around.

And so began a five day 2,300 NM direct passage to Boston.  It was a relatively benign journey across the North Atlantic.  I noted that at times the ocean temperature was 41 degrees and at one point we passed within a couple hundred miles of where the Titanic went down.  Not much chance of surviving in such waters, hypothermia would be only minutes in those waters.  Those ocean days were great for reading, attending some lectures, going to a specialty restaurant aboard, courtesy of our travel agent, and just staring out at the ocean.

In Boston we spent a wonderful day with our son, Chris, who took off from work, to walk the Boston seaport with us, have lunch by the water and just enjoy being together.

Then, the long 360 NM cruise from Boston to NY, actually Brooklyn where we had been only a couple of months before on a nostalgic tour of my college days.

At night we passed Nantucket and Block Island where we used to take our own boat in my salad days and then finally south of Long Island, into New York Harbor, under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, to our dock in Brooklyn, the dawn greeting us, the Brooklyn skyline in the foreground.  There our son, Jonathan, met us with our car and we began our drive back to Florida. 

I’d recommend a Transatlantic crossing for the experience, but this one, our fifth, will be our last. Our first was on the original QE2 in 1977.  The ship was built for speed, for a crossing, no stops, and a throwback to a transportation era now long gone.  In many ways, that was the most exhilarating crossing, subconsciously experiencing it as a multitude of prior generations did -- days at sea only, and then arriving at a distant shore.