I Can't Make Up My Alleged Mind . . .

 . . . for whom to vote for President. Should I vote for Shiva Ayyadurai, independent, or for Claudia De la Cruz and Karina Garcia of the Socialism and Liberation Party, or for Crystal Ellis, Independent, or for Rachele Fruit and Dennis Richter of the Socialist Workers Party, or for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz of the Democratic Party, or for Robert Kennedy and Nicole Shannon of the We The People Party, or for Joseph Kishore and Jerry White of the Socialist Equality Party, or for Chase Oliver and Mike ter Maat of the Libertarian Party, or for Jill Stein and Robert Ware of the Green Party, or for Donald Trump and JD Vance of the Republican Party, or for Cornel West and Melina Abdullah of the Justice for All Party? OMG, what to do? 

Perhaps Washington State has carried representative democracy one step too far: we have more candidates than electors! (Twelve.) 

Crystal is a nice name for a VP. And I've always liked equality; equality is good, too. 

Oncorhynchus: Latin (?) for hook-nose

The Oncorhynchus have returned, an encore of sorts for the species, though not for the beautiful individuals who struggle to arrive and then die for the cause. 

Don’t we all in our own ways, struggle to survive, to arrive, and die?

Issaquah Fish Hatchery

Last Wednesday, a beautiful Indian summer day, three friends and I visited the Issaquah Fish Hatchery where 16,000 Oncorhynchus – better known as “Chinook” here in the Pacific Northwest where Chinookan was the common language of our First Nations clustered around the Columbia, or “tshawytscha” in a Russian-tainted Lushootseed, the language of Vancouver and Puget Sound, or “black-mouth salmon”, or “Kings” or "Tyee" --

Waiting to move up. These are about 30", 25#'s.

where they were waiting to have eggs stripped and sperm spread in order to start anew their cycle of life and death and renewal. Hundreds more were pooling below the dam and weir, waiting to leap and fight their way upriver. It’s been a strong run this year. These guys left four years ago and now they’ve reappeared like magic. Some will make it over the spillway to freely breed; most will struggle up the ladder and into the hands of men and women dedicated to the species’ survival. Future generations of chinook for future generations of humans to wonder at, to worship, to feast upon, to nurture.

Walk around block milestone

Sunday morning, I had my own survival arrival: my first walk around the block since contracting pneumonia in Carcassonne in May and being hospitalized in Clinic Universidad de Navarra, in Pamplona. That trek up the gentle slope and down again around my little block was a triumph. I didn’t get to shoot sperm at eggs – those days just a distant memory – but no less satisfying. Time is all I have to invest now.

Mt Rainier (I don't put a period after it because it's still alive.) 

Every couple of years we also get wonderful views of lenticular clouds forming over, formed by, actually,  another icon of our region, Mt. Rainier. 

Lenticular Cloud created by Mt Rainier

The highest in the Continental US, but reports The Times, shrinking, as I: I have lost 3 ½ inches; Rainier, 11 feet! Where I stood, on Columbia Crest in 1988 is now no longer Rainier’s highest point. Just as global warming and man’s depredations have taken it out on Chinook, we’ve caused the ice cover on my mountain to shrink and nearly driven our third icon, the Southern Orca, to extinction. (Once you’ve climbed Mt. Rainier, it becomes “my mountain.” Cameron’s and Grant’s Dad, Rob Janes, crested it six times!)

Extinction

My line, The Wallers, who migrated to New England in the 17thC, is nearly going extinct, too. Only one Waller grandson and his mate can extend the name. I don’t mean to put on pressure; the Waller and Taylor genes flow on in Stoners, Helms, Dorseys, O'Donnells, and in great-granddaughter Wallers. And Ancestry keeps reporting that they’ve found 2^nd and 4^th and 6^th cousins I’ve never even heard of. Who knows how far the tangles of our DNA stretch?   

Boeing, Starbucks, REI

That plant in front of Rainier and its lid is where the infamous Boeing 737 Maxes are assembled, on the shore of Lake Washington. Boeing is the fourth icon of the Puget Sound region, badly wounded by mis-management and its Board of Directors' feckless lack of accountability. (See May 27th, below.) 

Boeing is not alone: Seattle icons Starbucks and REI have hit rough patches, too. But nobody has yet been killed by a latte or a merino tee.

Microsofties are still transcendent.

New aquarium and waterfront park. New glass.

Seattle is getting a new waterfront and a new aquarium addition. And for my recent birthday, I gave my self a new piece of glass by Preston Singletary, one of the Tlinglit people: his take on Oncorhynchus, no less – just to close the loop on this rambling rumination. 

Salmon Chief by Preston Singletary

So, ‘til next time, that’s all from the Northwest for today.

PS: Tap a picture to see it larger.

Illness and Age: Happy Birthday, Fletch; Happy Birthday

 All my life I have been chided to “act your age.” Born on a September 11^th, I was always the youngest in my class. By the blessings of Taylor and Waller genes, I have been youthfully limber and have a relatively flat belly; while not much of an athlete, I had good reflexes and agility; and I still enjoy a Taylor, full head of hair. So, I've grown accustomed to being seen as “youthful.”  But since having contracted pneumonia in May, making a very slow recovery, and having turned 90 this September, I suddenly seem to be doing it – acting my age, that is -- and it’s the shits.

The symptoms are increased wobbliness – I’m using a walking stick on occasion, which belies youthfulness and exposes the new nonagenarian.  The legs get heavy and breath very short upon the least exertion. Suddenly, I am acting my age indeed. As a nurse friend of Ann's counseled her, "recognize that he has a 90-year-old heart in a 90-year-old body." Thanks. Happy Birthday.

l to r: I, Ella J., Tonya A., Amy S., Corriell S.,
Jeff S., Steve W., Grant J. 

Four Grandkids: Max, Ella, Molly, and Corriell.
The other five were in France, Toronto, Brooklyn, Midland, and Rochester

The Clan Rapt (?) by Fletch's Version of Sinatra's
It Was a Very Good Year

Ann organized a wonderful, family birthday celebration – eighteen of us. Ann is my strength. Ann and I are still seeking answers. What has caused this sudden change in Fletch? What, if anything, can be done to re-build his balance and stamina? And most important, how regain confidence that we can go, we can be, we can do?

Do what? Go to summer school at Cambridge again next summer; take another OAT trip, perhaps to Aquitaine or to Normandy and Brittany or perhaps a Road Scholar outing to Germany; get back to weightlifting and walking in the woods near our home; finishing the marble bas-relief, The Cellist; snowshoeing once more in Sun Valley.  

Oh, I’m still mentally active, reading voraciously, giving Olympic Club talks. writing and volunteering for Pratt; working on the profile and history of the Chamber Society. What I’m not doing, though, is being physically active and on the go. While it’s distressing, . . .

. . .this, too, will pass.

Happy Birthday, Citizen Carter; Happy Birthday

Had James Earl Carter not been President, we’d still be reading today that a remarkable American has become a centenarian.

This young man from tiny Plains, Georgia aspired to stretch out into the world while staying rooted in cotton and peanut country. 1n 1942, he appealed to Georgia Congressman Stephen Pace for appointment to The US Naval Academy (which Ann and I visited last year with my niece and nephew and their spouses) and was graduated with distinction in 1946. After two years on surface ships, he applied for submarine duty, serving as electronics officer dealing with a new SONAR array development. He rose to become engineering officer, and eventually Exec Officer of SSK-1, the Barracuda.

Later, when nuclear sub development was undertaken, Carter sought entry, was interviewed and selected by then-captain Hymen Rickover, and was assigned to the Naval Reactor Branch of the Atomic Energy Commission to assist “in the design and development of nuclear propulsion plants for naval vessels.” (Carter joined in November of ’52; my Dad had left the AEC that previous June.)  

Carter was slated to become engineering officer on the Seawolf, one of the first nuclear subs. But in summer of ’53, his father died, leaving a struggling peanut farm. Lieutenant Jimmy Carter resigned to attend to family affairs and returned to Plains. In ’46, he and Rosalynn Smith, another Plains born and bred, had married. Now in civilian lives, Jimmy studied agronomy and Rosalynn studied finance and accounting; he grew and harvested, she managed the books. It was a partnership that lasted.

Jimmy and Rosalynn became stalwarts of the local Baptist Church, where Jimmy taught Sunday School over decades, well into the 21^stC. Along the way, he

·       `` Revitalized his family peanut business.

·       `` Served as chair of the Sumpter County school board.

·       `` Gradually became a committed civil rights activist and an anti-segregationist Democrat.

·       `` Was elected to the Georgia Senate after successfully challenging a fraudulent election and winning the     court-ordered re-election.

·       `` Ran for and became Governor of Georgia, defeating Republican and Democratic segregationists.

·       `` As Governor Carter, he re-designed state government, consolidating over 300 separate departments        into 22, created youth development programs, education programs for the incarcerated, and equalized    state support for education between rural and urban areas.

·       `` Helped found, fund and promote Habitat for Humanity.

·       `` Fought for just and fair democratic elections elsewhere and formed a process for monitoring and            reporting on foreign elections, especially in Africa and South and Central America.

·        `` Wrote twenty-two books, one jointly with Rosalynn Carter (about which both said with a laugh that       they’d never make that mistake again.)

Of course, Jimmy Carter did become our 39^th President, a presidency buffeted by Iranian revolutionary hostage-takers, OPEC’s embargo-inflation, born-again Christian idealism, and implacable Republican, real-politik hostility. (Barbara and I took our eldest, Frank, to Washington and stood on the white House lawn to see Carter greet Prime Minister Morarji Desai.) 

And, as an ex-President, Carter made the most of opportunities to play an elder statesman role on the world stage.

Happy Birthday, Citizen Carter; Happy Birthday.

Pesto Day, '24

Today was our annual rite of summer passage: pesto day -- an afternoon of cleaning garlic and basil, preparing walnuts, measuring extra-virgin olive oil, Pecorino Romano and Parmagiano Reggiano -- and drinking wine and listening to music and gossiping about friends and noshing on fresh pesto on piccolo como.  Result: such a satisfied and mellow mood plus 28 tubs of pesto to freeze, to use up and give away by next August. A highlight of our summer.

What Are You Prepared to Say?

Today, in a group of friends on Zoom, one told us about her seatmate on a recent flight who commented that she was undecided, that she did not know for whom to vote. My friend said she found herself a bit tongue-tied and posed the question to the rest of us: what would you have said? A good question: one all of us should be prepared to answer over the next two months.

What’s your answer?

Some among us talked about safeguarding Democracy; others, about comparing Trump’s and Harris’ characters and values. For me, I sought to find common ground between Red and Blue, and then to argue for Blue priorities and approaches that address today’s household realities. My comments might go like this:

Trump is right when he says many Americans feel our nation is not well, that we have been going in the wrong direction. Take living costs: in April, the price of the standard USDA statistical basket of groceries was over $86, up more than 25% in the last five years. Yes, it’s fine that the rate of inflation is dropping, but prices have gotten painfully high.

Household incomes of the first three quintiles of the population, i.e., the poor, the lower-middle class, and the middle-class, have not kept pace. That inflation is down and incomes have begun to rise still leaves many families squeezed for kitchen-table costs. Car insurance, auto repairs, costs of eating out --  all are up. Until prices drop and/or pay increases sharply, many Americans will rightly feel less well-off than before.

COVID is still with us. We don’t seem to be able to enforce peace on the world anymore. Illegal immigrants keep coming, even though that too has slowed. And isn’t it wonderful that people all over the world want to come here? We must be doing something right.

 Trump exaggerates when he proclaims coming depressions, but he’s right that many Americans feel insecure. But – But.

But all of Trumps proposed fixes only make matters worse! And some of his ideas are total nonsense, such as rounding up 10 million immigrants and transporting them out of the country. Who’s going to find and hold them, and how? Who’s going to fly away 10 million passengers, and to where? What countries are going to take these 10 million folks? And anyway, if it could be done, who would install his gold-colored escalators and mow his golf courses?

Seriously, take cost of living and tariffs. Tariffs will increase the prices of kid’s back to school clothes and shoes, your pants and shirts, your underwear – making the squeeze on all but rich families even greater.

Take his tax cut proposals: they favor the upper two quintiles of the population, giving the upper-middle class and upper class even more advantage over the rest of us. And not taxing Social Security and tip income? That will drive the deficit up, make the dollar weaker, increase our national debt, increase interest rates and make it harder for small business to find the money to invest and grow –- and most of our job creation comes from small businesses. Not taxing tips only adds to the deficit and leave the Social Security trust fund short. Harris and Trump are both wrong on tip taxation.

No, while Trump’s concerns about America’s problems may be right, his answers are dead-wrong and help only billionaires like himself.

Harris and Walz are on the right track and have the right priorities: improve education, competition, child-care. Give women freedom to choose to work by providing universal child-care. Extend child tax credits to strengthen families’ ability to raise healthy and confident children. Underwrite signing bonuses to attract new, top-of-class teachers and promote improved public schools. Welcome legal immigrants, make it easier to come here properly, and provide a path to earned citizenship. Rein in banks using your savings to speculate – what used to be called Glass-Steagall –  and restrict selling off your home mortgage and car loans to investors at inflated, phony prices. And raise the National minimum wage. Use anti-trust and consumer protection powers granted by Congress to stop huge mergers and rein in big enterprises. Foster competition which drives prices down. Increase inheritance taxes on the ultra-wealthy to slow down passing on wealth to offspring who haven’t earned it.

And, overseas, stop molly-coddling dictators and stand up for democracies, justice, and fairness.

Harris and Walz, in my opinion, are the trustworthy choice and have the right priorities, values, and programs that address our problems and opportunities.

 

Yes, too much; too long-winded, but you get the drift. Your seatmate may not care about or understand risk to our democracy; he or she may find Trump’s kick-ass personality and crudeness entertaining, a vicarious venting of their frustration. But everyone cares about their family’s or household’s daily sense of well-being. That’s what I would focus on.

You may well have a very different answer; indeed, you may favor Red over Blue proposals. But that’s not the point. The point is to have an answer ready and to encourage the undecided to make up their mind and vote. America needs concerned and thoughtful voters this fall as never before. 

So, what are you prepared to say to the undecided you encounter?

 

 

Where Have I Been. Why Have I Not Posted Since May?

Why have I not posted since late May?  It’s been an up and down summer – and on this chill and rainy Seattle day it feels as summer is coming to an end. I hope September delivers its usual glorious Indian Summer on the Salish Sea – especially since family will be gathering around the finish line as I end this 90^th lap around the sun.

My last post, the Boeing letter below, was from Bayonne, France, laying at the feet of the board the broken body of Boeing’s reputation for reliability. Bayonne is not far from Toulouse, Airbus-land; they, too, are not unblemished. At least the new Boeing CEO, Kelly Ortberg, intends to office much of the time here in Seattle, where the bulk of Boeing’s employees live and work.

Cathedral Sainte-Marie
de Bayonne

Ann and I were in Bayonne on what was to be a three-week tour of Basque Country, through French Aquitaine, Spanish Gipuzkoa, Navarre, and Biscay, and winding up in northern Portugal. But an ill-wind blew: in turn, we each contracted pneumonia. I spent four days hospitalized in Pamplona – no running any bulls for me, but receiving extraordinary care. (When's the last time American doctors made house calls -- 1946, 1948? We had two to our hotel room, neither of which cost us a cent!) 

We ended our tour early and flew for home. But what little we had seen – Carcassonne, Auche, Bayonne, Biarritz, San Sebastian, Bilbao – was wonderful, i.e., truly, filled with wonder.

Bilbao -- and a cleaned river

Carcassonne

Ann has fully recovered; I still easily get short of breath and am more tippy than before. It didn’t stop me from enjoying the first three weeks of July’s Seattle Chamber Music Festival – three concerts each week plus board events plus hosting in our home cellist Paul Watkins for a week. And then, last week in July, we decamped for summer school at Cambridge University.

Selwyn Hall -- and that's half of it

That was a magical experience: to be bearing a student ID once again; to attend two, small (<30) lively classes a day, plus plenary lectures each morning, afternoon and evening; to live in Selwyn College and take breakfast and dinner in its faux-medieval dining hall with hundreds of other students – young and old, from 32 countries around the globe – all interested and interesting people; to be surrounded by a university town offering pubs and restaurants, drama and concerts, poetry readings and museum events and history around every corner. 

A Plenary on Cooling the Arctic 

Ann took two two-week courses: World Under Stress taught by Sir Tony Brenton, former UK Ambassador to the Russian Federation, a man who has negotiated with Putin, and, with me, Rome and China – a Comparison of Empires. In addition, I took two one-week courses: Henry IV, Part One and The Hundred Years War. I fell into bed each night exhausted but so mentally stimulated that I had trouble falling asleep.

Plus a side trip to Canterbury and five days in London. God and good health willing, we will go again next year.

At Selwyn College, Cambridge

So, thus the long silence from Northwest Ruminations – not that anyone would notice. In England, still tippy, I resorted to a walking stick. Yesterday, I gave a speech to my luncheon club: My Magic Stick, my New BFF. 

I recounted the magical effect my walking stick projects onto people around me – at Heathrow, early boarding of aircraft; in the London tube, women in their late 50’s getting up and eagerly offering me their seat; a briefcase wielding business man jay walking through traffic to get to my side and ask if I was all right as I leaned on a post-box to catch my breath; the next day, his opposite, a tattooed, studded, skin-head, stepping aside to let me pass with a deferential nod of his shaved head; being plucked out of line and escorted to the door of the British National Museum – a magical stick, indeed.

Now summer appears to be winding down, alas. But, you’ll hear from me more frequently.   

From Cheapside