Pieces of Fall

 

   On my way to meeting every Sunday morning, driven in my van, I go by a block that is lined with gingko trees.  This block has always been a real treat in the Fall, when the gingko leaves turn brilliant gold and flutter to the ground. 

   It seems to me that the leaves are late in turning this year (another sign of climate change?). It has only been on recent Sundays that the leaves have begun to ever so gradually turn from dark green to pale green to pale gold to brighter and brighter gold – and Fall is just about over.  A few trees have begun to relinquish leaves, while many others are stubbornly refusing to let their leaves go, as they put on an exquisitely slow changeling show.  Perhaps in two or three weeks, now that the weather has finally cooled, they will finally relent, and, one Sunday, the ground will be carpeted in gold – a nice Christmas or New Year’s treat. 

   To my frustration, Fall, my favorite time of year, has also been stalled for me. For much of it, I wasn’t able to go out on my own, as I have loved doing these last couple years.  In fact, I wasn’t able to all Spring and Summer. 

   Early in the year, I found that my one functioning arm – the left – was getting weaker and sometimes giving out or freezing up.  Things came to a head when I was out on a warm – but perhaps not warm enough – day in February and my arm gave out blocks from home and I barely made it back home, with cars honking at me, etc – very scary. 

   I knew I had to do something.  I decided to go all in and get a set-up that I had seen before, that allowed me to drive with my head.  If I was that disabled, I may as well get what I need to live fully as someone that disabled.  It didn’t make sense to try to live like I was less disabled.  So I went back to Casa Colina Hospital, the local rehab hospital, and they helped me get what’s called a head array, which enables me to drive my wheelchair by pressing my head against pads. 

   Yes, this is huge, and I should have been really, really excited about it – and, really, I am.  Yes, I should have written about it.  But it turned out to be an exercise in frustration, with many delays at the hospital (for one thing, why didn’t it have the equipment on hand?) and then waiting for the insurance approval.  By the time I got it in late October instead of perhaps late July, it was hard not to be bitter. 

   Anyway, I have really enjoyed having the head array, at least until it has finally gotten chilly here, and the best thing about it is that I don’t have to use it.  I can still use my joystick.  I was worried about having to use the head array all the time, which would have been a steep learning curve and difficult in tight and not-so-tight indoor spaces, but, no, I can just use it when I need it, when I get too cold, when my arm gets too tired. Until this recent cold snap, when it’s just too cold for me to go out on my own (unlike before my spinal surgery, when the cold didn’t stop me), I have been finding that I am fine using my joystick when I’m out on my own, even when it’s a bit cooler (above 70), likely because I know I have the head array if I need it. To be clear and perfectly frank, I’m not crazy about the head array – it’s is clunky and takes too much mental effort than I care to give and is one more high-tech thing that can, I fear, easily break down – but it’s nice to know that I have it.

   It was frustrating that I couldn’t do this until late October.  I was really looking forward to strolling around this Fall - again, my favorite time of the year – seeing the changing leaves. And it’s too bad I can’t – yet - get to the gingko block or other areas in Claremont with wonderful Fall foliage, even with having the head array (and, again, unlike before my spinal surgery, when it was something I would pass on my many outings in my chair).

   But, then again, I was able to go out strolling in the blacks around my house nearly every day for a good month. Not only that, I have made it a point when I’m on these outings (and also when I’m being driven around town in my van – to and from meeting, for example) to be aware of and to enjoy the Fall colors that have been on view even in this limited range and time.  This is, after all, the “city of trees and Ph.D’s,” founded by people who came from New England and decided that this town would have trees and Fall colors that reminded them of home, even among the swaying palms and desert vistas of sunny So. Cal.   

   This Fall, like the pandemic, has been a reminder that, sort of like those founders of Claremont and its first college, Pomona, you strive for what you want but also make the best of what you find yourself with.

The good in a bad time

 

   I’m not sure if many of us realize how significant, how momentous these last 18 or so months have been.  Do many people see this pandemic as an unprecedented time, a period that will go down in history, perhaps more than the Spanish flu epidemic of 1919?  Or has it just been a time of inconvenience, when we couldn’t go out much and have to wear stupid masks? 

   Surely this attitude was perpetuated by Donald Trump in his disasterous leadership as president at the onset of this crisis, treating it as a bothersome inconvenience, which has ended up with it being much worse – lasting much longer, with many more deaths – than it could have been. 

   In any case, the pandemic presented us with challenges and hard lessons, some of which are leading to better things.  I explored this in my latest Claremont Courier column, which was published a couple Fridays ago. 

           AFTER A TIME OF QUIET, A TIME TO REACH OUT

   I have pandemic guilt. 

   Or do I?

   Over the last 20 months or so – yes, we’ve been at this life-turned-upside-down slog together, as we’ve kept hearing, for nearly two years – I’ve heard and read countless stories about what people have been doing, have accomplished, during the pandemic. 

   Apparently, folks, at least those who trusted science and followed the health officials’ advice, got busy while holed up at home.  They didn’t sit around playing tiddly-winks or doing nothing or just watching Netflix.  Although plenty did watch Netflix, at least on the side, while doing something else.

   Some did things, more often than not new things, to pass the time, while others used the time for things, projects, that they had been meaning to do, things that they had wanted to do but never found the time to do.  Now they had the time. 

   According to reports in the first two or three months that COVID-19 kept us at home, some tried out sourdough starters and also learned to perfect pies and delicate pastries.  Some embarked on long-dreamed-of home improvement projects and some taught themselves another language or how to quilt.  Some wrote the novel they always thought of writing, some painted cards and mailed them to friends with thoughtful notes, and some wrote songs, made music videos, recorded albums. 

   I kept seeing these stories about all the things people were getting done, were accomplishing, during the pandemic. It was a bit like reading that Mozart completed something like five symphonies and a couple operas while he was a teenager. 

   It was hard not to feel like a slouch, like I was downright lazy, like I was wasting all this extra time that we had on our hands.  It was hard not to feel guilty for not making good use of this time, for not being incredibly productive during this period away from our normal, too-busy lives, as forced and as unwanted as it was.

   That there has also been thousands and thousands of people getting sick and so many of them dying, dying awful deaths alone in crowded hospitals, hasn’t helped.  

   But, then again, while I didn’t take on a grand project, while I didn’t spend this down time writing the great American novel, I wasn’t doing nothing.  I was getting work done, important work on myself that I needed to get done. 

   The strange fact is that, in some sense, the pandemic didn’t interrupt what I saw as my normal, too-busy life.  That had happened three years earlier when I had spinal surgery, which saved my life but left me far more disabled than I had already been. What was interrupted for me by the COVID lock-down was getting back to my life or, rather, a new life. 

   Right as I was getting into the swing of things, into the life that I was now to have, to find, to develop, I found myself back stuck at home, back in a state of convalescence. 

   Except, this time, I wasn’t alone.  I wasn’t the only one stuck at home, in a state of limbo, if not convalescence.  We were all suddenly set back, having to stop and put our lives on hold and try to make new sense of it. 

   “Welcome back!” proclaim the signs on the restaurants in the Village now offering indoor dining again.  As if we have been away on a long journey. 

   Which we have.  It may not have been a vacation, a fun road trip, a nice, relaxing getaway, but it was definitely a time away, a time apart, an adventure of sorts in which we started anew or saw things anew or learned the hard way to do so. 

   Now we find ourselves finding our way in a strange, wonderful world where going to a concert at the colleges is an absolute joy but is a bit like going through security at an airport in order to attend, having to show photo I.D and proof of vaccination in addition to having to fill out a health attestation form saying that one doesn’t have COVID symptoms and haven’t been exposed to any. 

   We also find that things have been done during this fallow time, that new seeds have been found and are now being planted and nurtured.  We saw this in the new awareness of racial inequality and injustice and subsequent unprecedented protests after the horrific police killing of George Floyd – an awareness made more possible with so many of us at home with more time to see the news and to think.  There are efforts to keep these new senses and sensibilities alive, to nurture them and keep them going after the pandemic is over. 

   Things have been percolating at Claremont Change, the organization started by recent Claremont High School graduates Josue Barnes and Noah Winnock in the wake of the Floyd killing to promote diversity and justice in Claremont.  Barnes and Winnock are now leading a series of free workshops on how to detect and respond to rhetorical devices such as gaslighting and exceptionalism.  These workshops are taking place on Zoom, mostly on every other Monday evenings, and more information can be found on Claremontchange.org. 

   The local Bahais have also been busy, germinating a hope and working to make it real.  In the wake of their Zoom series of Claremont Speaks Black conversations, spurred on by the activism following the Floyd murder, featuring Black residents of Claremont sharing their experiences of being Black in Claremont, the Bahais are expanding on these dialogues in an effort to further promote diversity and justice in Claremont.  They recently lead an in-person dialogue at Blaisdell Park on how to get more people involved in the pursuit of racial equality and justice.  About two dozen people participated, and it seemed like the beginning of something good taking root.  For further information on how to get involved, contact ClaremontLSA@gmail.com. 

   Then there is the Newcomer Access Center and its effort with the Claremont Quaker meeting and others to offer housing, at least temporarily, to Afghan refugees. The NAC is a group started by Pilgrim Place residents some time ago wanting to assist those seeking asylum in this country.  With people now fleeing Afghanistan, there is now a need for this. 

   The Claremont Quakers, in conjunction with the Claremont Homeless Advocacy Program, had been hosting homeless people overnight at the meetinghouse, but that had to end when the pandemic struck.  With the space now available, the Quakers offered, when needed, to have Afghan families stay there for a few weeks at a time while they get on their feet and find more permanent housing.  The Claremont School of Theology is also helping out, with office space for the NAC as well as possible housing.  All is at the ready when an Afghan family needs shelter here.

   Indeed, after this time of quiet and isolation, there are efforts to reach out and make Claremont a more welcoming, more just place.  That’s nothing for any of us to feel guilty about.

 

Why I listen to Trump

 

   “Guns don’t kill people. Alec Baldwin kills people.”

   This is what it says on a t-shirt that Donald Trump, Jr, was selling on his website not long after Baldwin accidentally killed the cinematographer and wounded the director when he shot a gun that he was told was “cold,” not loaded with live ammunition, on the set of a film he was producing and starring in.  Never mind that it was an accident, a tragic accident. Never mind that the actor is mortified, devastated. 

   It should be no surprise that the junior Trump exploited this horrific event in a shocking, crass, cruel way to score points with his father’s rabid, red-meat-loving backers.  He may also have been sticking it to the actor who so savagely parodied Dad on Saturday Night Live while he was president. 

   Later, on Twitter, he went on to dig even further: “Spare me your fake sanctimony. The media is in full on panic mode to protect Baldwin from ANY criticism because they agree with his politics.”

   J.D Vance, the venture capitalist and memoirist (“Hillbilly Elegy”) running for the U.S senate nomination in Ohio, is one of many has added to the crass Trumpist drumbeat. “Dear @jack,” he tweeted, referring to Twitter head Jack Dorsey, “let Trump back on.  We need more Alec Baldwin tweets.”   

  The question is should we care? Should we care that this is being said, that this is going on?  I have friends who tell me I should ignore all this, that I should tune out what Trump and his followers say. 

   Yes, Trump has been banned from Twitter and Facebook, but his message is still getting out.  He is speaking at rallies and conferences, and, clearly, plenty are speaking for him online. 

   And, yes, as my friends tell me, it would be good for my mental health not to hear all this toxic, hateful, fear-driven stuff. 

   But sticking our heads in the sand isn’t the answer.  It would be nice to ignore this and go on like it’s not out there, but it’s very much out there, and ignoring it definitely won’t help. 

   For one thing, ignoring it will lead to complacency, which will end up with people not voting.  This is how Trumpists and perhaps even Trump will win elections.  We need to hear all these awful things, to pay attention to what’s happening and being said out there so that folks get mad and vote against all this. 

   Even more importantly, we need to pay attention to what’s being said, to that it’s being said, so that we can try to figure out why there is such hate and fear, why so many people are so unhappy that they latch onto this fear and hate and follow and vote for those who would actually harm them (doing away with Obamacare, making it harder to get government assistance, etc.)  and how we can work, hopefully together, so that this wasn’t the case. 

   It would be much easier to ignore this toxicity, to not do this hard work, but, as is evident in how we’ve gotten more and more polarized, more and more apart, to the point where we can’t agree on basic facts, on the truth, we do so at our peril. 

Boo! The holidays are coming!

 

   Recently, one of my attendants mentioned that Halloween is their favorite holiday (so to speak, although it’s not a day off work). I guess my attendant was thinking about the upcoming holiday season. 

   Yes, ready or not, the holidays are coming up.  Now that it’s late September and Fall is here – already! – the holidays will be here before we know it. 

   When my attendant asked if I like Halloween, I said that I don’t.  Even though Autumn is my favorite season, with the cooling weather, the sharpening light, the leaves turning colors, Halloween is one of my least favorite holidays. 

   When I was a little child, it seemed I was sick a lot on Halloween, not able to wear my costume to school and go out that night and get lots of candy in my bag.  When I was able to go out trick-or-treating, my mom and dad would always fight over who would take me out, and my mom always lost and had to take me out.  The last year I went out, I really liked the costume I came up with – a black blob, a sheet my mom dyed black and put over me – but, when my mom took me out in my wheelchair, the sheet kept snagging in my wheels and ripping. 

   Years later – about twenty years ago, perhaps – I set out candy on a nice, sturdy, wooden chair (answering the door and handing out candy is awkward at the very least and another reason why Halloween isn’t my favorite day). I woke up the next morning to find pieces of the chair strewn up and down the street.  Someone went to considerable effort to do a Halloween prank, but it wasn’t fun or funny to me and really put the quash on the holiday for me. 

   I like Thanksgiving much better, although I now tend to be alone with my attendants.  It is all about relaxing, with good cooking and eating.  Very simple – the way I like it. 

   I love the idea of Christmas – peace and love – and the lights and music, but I don’t like all the rushing around and the pressure to buy, buy, buy.  When I was growing up, Christmas never seemed to be enough, and I’m still trying to not think this way. 

   And, finally, I just don’t like New Year’s.  For one thing, I don’t drink and am not a partier.  Also, I don’t like thinking of a whole new 12 months ahead of me, with resolutions and all that. I’m much more comfortable with one day at a time. 

   Perhaps I can say that I love the season but not the holidays.

Pandemic? What pandemic?

 

   It’s called cognitive dissonance.

   That’s “the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs, or attitudes, especially as relating to behavioral decisions and attitude change,” according to Oxford Languages, or “the perception of contradictory information,” according to Wikipedia. It’s holding two or more very different or contradictory ideas, beliefs or worldviews in your head at the same time. 

   Sounds really hard. 

   It is. 

   I’m having a hard time when I read that Patti Smith, along with a bunch of other artists, are back on tour, including as part of large music festivals, “out of traction, back in action” (as the Los Angeles Times story on Smith was headlined with a well-known quote from her after being sidelined with a broken leg years ago). It’s hard to see that concerts are going on here in town – even as, yes, I’m attending them, albeit on the sidelines and masked up – and that students are back in school. It’s seems odd that people are going out to restaurants, movies and football games and that lots of people are flying again. 

   It’s hard to see all this when COVID cases, hospitalizations and deaths are rising (although not so much here in Los Angeles County, where there are mask mandates in place), when more and more young people, like those who attend music festivals and schools and colleges, are getting COVID, when health officials warn against raveling and being in crowds. 

   It’s like we’re being told – no, we’re being told – to do one thing – stay home, be safe – and being offered, tempted with, another thing – eat out, go back to school and concerts (finally!), travel. What’s crazy or is making me crazy is that we don’t have to pick one or the other.  It seems we can have both, we can do both. 

   Never mind that these two things – stay home, go out – are opposites, that they contradict each other.  That’s the message that’s out there now, that’s we’re left to go with, hold in our heads. 

   I may not have a headache, but I’m definitely feeling crazy. And no wonder!  It’s worse than being stir-crazy.  At least stir-crazy is one simple idea in your head.          

   I wonder why this is going on.  Maybe it has something to do with this quote that was in an article in yesterday’s Los Angeles Times about crowds returning to college football games.  It’s from Victor Matheson, a sports economist at the College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Mass., who says about letting crowds back into stadiums,   “That’s not good for public health, but it’s good for Texas and Alabama’s bottom line.”    

   You think?