It’s 17 degrees this morning. Yesterday it was 6. So an improvement. I’ll wait and walk the dog after it’s light. After my first meetings and when I can get a break.
In Los Angeles, wildfires have destroyed more than 10,000 buildings and killed 30 or more people so far. Seems as if the climate is evolving.
We’re all feeling the cold weather here. In small towns, the sidewalks are not cleared by the city management. And mostly people here are too old to get out and shovel. So when the dog and I walk, we must walk on the road which is more than half ice. Between the traffic and the ice and the cold it’s a high risk endeavor to be out and about. Adding darkness to that equation seems like begging for a trip to the hospital.
“Sadness is caused by intelligence. The more you understand certain things, the more you wish you didn’t understand them.”
Charles Bukowski
Just a few days now until Trump and company are back in charge. This time he is surrounded by knob-polishing sycophants of immeasurable wealth. Last time a good number of the wealthy tech titans kept their distance from the Trump administration. This time they are falling in line — trapped by their love of money and power. They believe they are happy but I have a feeling most of them suffer more than most. I know some people with money. Most of them are miserable — scared to death they will lose their false god and whatever status they believe that confers upon them.
I’m taken by Bukowski’s quote above. It’s true. Ignorance is bliss. God bless the MAGA faithful. They truly believe their lives will be enriched by this cheap thug. They are the same ones who in the old days would line up and pay out their shillings of family food money for the tonic the barber-surgeon was selling. The magical elixir that would make their lives better. It was cheap liquor; perhaps with a bit of mint or licorice mixed in for flavor. But they bought it that time and the time after and the time after that. Just like Trump supporters. Their faith is unshakable even when they are being pistol-whipped by the Trump con machine.
But here we are. This is the trappings of democracy. Self rule. When the dummies outnumber the sane, shit gets crazy. So strap the fuck in and let’s see where this new wild ride takes us.
When I was young I had bouts of fairly significant depression. The more I learned about the world outside my little bubble (poor as we were, we were mostly happy in childhood), the more I realized the dysfunction of society. 30,000+ dying of hunger every single day, while a great many wallowed in abundance. Vietnam war was raging — to save democracy we were told. Our own government gunning down unarmed student protesters. All of these things affected me deeply. It took a lot of years for me to learn to bifurcate my mind and accept this unremitting sadness of poverty and cruelty around the world.
So I have no doubt Bukowski is correct in this. I remain perplexed today how many people don’t even make the slightest effort to help others. Intelligent people with many times over the money they need to live a happy life just carry on as if this suffering is not occurring. Willfully ignorant I suppose.
It’s true that nothing an individual will do can alter the trajectory of the world order. Not Bill Gates or Jimmy Carter or Mother Theresa. But it’s also true that helping a single individual in need is magnificent. You don’t have to change the world. Just give one person or two or a few a little boost. Naively I always thought if you gave people an easy mechanism to help, they would get onboard. But mostly they don’t. The vast majority simply let their eyes cloud over and carry on.
But this I’ve also accepted. In a global sense we are in this together, but our actions are our own.
How can I be deeply committed to the concept that the world is well and truly fucked by the greed, dysfunction, and general shortcomings of humanity, but be equally committed to trying to help out a little here and there? It seems completely contradictory. What’s the point.
I’ve always been weird.
MYO started our school year last week. Our 22nd year of continuous operation. We are a family. Our MYO alumni chat group is abuzz. Our kids move on to do great things. They find their way — emboldened and motivated by the confidence of learning and knowing they have more control over their fate than they believed. Reading is our main key. And teaching intellectual curiosity. Wanna know something — go to the library and do the research.
Namib Futures is starting to find its legs. We will sponsor 3 university scholarships this year. This on top of the 3 I am already sponsoring but will soon transfer to Namib Futures. There is real potential here if we all find the time. We need an intern to help us be efficient and organized.
Emerging Namibia is also going well. It’s amazing for me to be working now directly with Frieda and Petrus. Super smart young adults who are killing it in their fields. And now giving back by helping us develop a platform to inspire others. Sue told me there are now a number of MYO alumni who are regularly donating to Silver Lining and a few others who show up to lend their physical support. This is uplifting for me. These kids are giving back — knowing that others gave them a hand when they needed it. Keeping the cycle moving.
I’ve been in Somerset now for 2 weeks in a row. And I cannot get to West Virginia this week or next due to family obligations. The week after that I almost certainly have to go to Tampa for work. That will mean 5 weeks away from Black Dog Ridge at the most vulnerable time of the year. For now the power is on which means the house is heated enough to stave off pipes freezing. Or at least I hope that’s the case.
In other news. Finally got the new stove hooked up at this house. I had to get a 220 volt outlet installed. The magic of induction. We had pizza night with mom and dad a couple of nights ago to give her a test run. Next week I’ve got a crew coming to dig up the front yard to replace the sewage effluent. Another expensive endeavor. Old homes suck. But this one happens to be directly across from mom and dad so here I am.
I’ve added a new page to this blog. Dedicated purely to the tradition that inspired the whole thing. Friday Night Martini’s are now captured here. I will not recapture the past — those martini’s are buried in their respective blog posts if you care to go searching.
No other news of note.
Humbly Submitted.
Robert Myres – Flanker, Portneuf Valley Rugby Football Club (ret.)
The Martini Tales 