Man, 446 days ’til the you know what seems like forever. So maybe if I break it down into pieces, it won’t seem so far away.

OK – milestones. My next book, And Forbid Them Not comes out on Labor Day, September 2nd. So that’s 19 days from now. So that’ll be day 427. The next book, Let Them Come Unto Me comes out on Halloween. That is 59 days later, so that’ll be day 368. Incidentally, October 31st is also the deadline that could lead to a No Deal Brexit..just thought you’d wanna know… Three days later, and it’ll be exactly a year ’til the election. I think that does help a bit!

So there you have it…the best way to eat an elephant – or prepare to defeat the elephant – is one bite at a time. Ciao.

days left til the election and the news is all over the place – who’s ahead, who’s slipping, will “Uncle Joe’s” gaffes ruin his chances – especially since he’s the front runner?

I’m beginning to think Lizzie Warren and Bernie the big head have the right idea – Medicare for all. Let’s go ahead and turn into the equivalent of the British health service that’s broke and can’t attract good help because of low pay. But at least everyone will have coverage, right? Hmm..be careful what you wish for. We strive for mediocrity in all things, and we’re decidedly on the path to attain it.

The economy is showing signs of softness but it’ll take something more than the tariff war to send it into a tailspin. Even mediocre (there’s that word again) corporate profits haven’t been enough to kill the Dow. Why? Too much of ‘other people’s money’ to throw into a stock market so overheated it’s spewing lava…there’s that reference to all of us on islands in the volcano again. But really, people, isn’t that the case? Don’t you sometimes feel like you’re holding your breath, waiting for the next headline? Mass shootings; financial fraud revealed; financial fraud accompanied by sex crimes accompanied by spectacular suicide..now that’s fodder for every grist mill out there. Poor Jeffrey – escaped at every turn, but finally brought really low by greedy lawyers talking stupid girls into telling their seamy stories…we live in the pages of the National Enquirer..which is also going broke. Sigh.

OK..is there anything good out there on the horizon? I’m thinking … thinking…no, not really.

HBO started a 10 part series last night called Our Boys about two incidents from 2014 in Jerusalem. Three Israeli boys are kidnapped and murdered, ostensibly by somebody on the other side of the literal wall. So somebody exacts revenge by kidnapping, torturing and murdering a sixteen year old Arab boy. Only two episodes of the series so far, but what I’ve seen makes clear three things. First – nationalism is alive and well in Israel, aided, abetted – nay promulgated – by Bibi Netanyahu to maintain his power and corruption. Israel is as divided – between ultra religious and secular – as the US is red and blue. Second – the police are inept interviewers, always assuming the worst about their neighbors on the other side of the wall instead of taking their problems seriously and trying to address real issues. And third – it doesn’t take much to spark violence between the groups. Moreover, there are very few folks – on either side – trying to staunch the emotion that leads to violence. Yes, boys and girls, brothers and sisters, Israel is sitting on a powder keg of its own creation. By trying to ensure the holocaust never happens again, the youth of Israel have become ever so much like their former persecutors from the earlier days of Nazism. And the Israeli Arabs look and often act like the Jews from the WW II vintage Warsaw ghetto. It’s a bizarre situation; can’t see how it’ll get better any time soon. But one thing this series does, that is so vitally important if there is to be some kind of solution: it puts a human face on and gives a back story to – all these teenaged boys. Why can’t we all just get along?

…you know the rest. School started today for Emily and Kiernan. Em is back at Jupiter High; Kiernan starts first grade at Franklin Academy. Here’s the first day of school annual pic.

It feels like every time there’s another mass shooting, it boosts the beliefs on both sides of the debate. All common sense has gone out of the window. When it adds to the demographic reality that life spans are decreasing in the US, will anyone pay attention – or even care to try to change it? We all seem to live on different islands in the same pool of hot lava. Does it ever occur to anybody that putting those islands together is the only way to get out of the volcano?

Apparently not. Greed and ideology are a toxic mix…tho’ the purveyors of the isms have more of the greed than the philosophy. Grows tiresome. Are we just holding our breath, waiting for the next shooting to whip up the same debates that go nowhere? On average, there’s one every two weeks, so another week to go and boom! We’ll be at it again.

Where will it happen? Shopping mall? How about using the old double trick used by jihadis of two bombs – one immediate and one delayed – to maximize the casualties and get those first responders that steal the limelight from these true believers? It’s all insanity, but real nonetheless. Thoughts and prayers won’t make it stop. Electing Joe Biden probably won’t make it stop. And turning the US into a gun-free dictatorship isn’t the answer either. It’ll take another generation, but we need to change the culture that makes these guys step out from behind the laptop console and go targeting real people. According to one guy who allegedly ‘deprograms’ white supremecists, their goal is not to outdo one another – it’s to match little Timmy McVeigh’s record at Oklahoma City. Will it wind down after that? Nope – just create a new record to try to exceed.

But what are the actual odds of being killed in a mass shooting in America? Impossible to say – six different articles on the internet have six different numbers. But I think it’s safe to say the odds are less than normal ways to be accidentally killed – car, motorcycle or bike wrecks come to mind. But if you go in your car without a seatbelt being buckled; or on your bike without a helmet, then you are increasing your odds. With the number of guns in America such that there is one for every man, woman and child, there wouldn’t be much you could do to prevent it – maybe other than wearing a kevlar vest all the time. But that would likely increase your chances of being killed by a cop. You must be ready to shoot – otherwise, why would you be wearing kevlar?

Not a good situation. But we’ll just KBO (keep buggering on..thank you, Winston).

A mere 449 days left until the election, and we’re all biding our time and hoping to survive until that day of nerves or nirvana. I, for one, am skeptical that any of the current Democratic candidates can survive the race intact – and that the party as a whole can rally ’round one candidate. So I’m preparing myself for the worst…fodder for the writing mill, if nothing else.

Research for a major project is always interesting and sometimes enlightening. I’ve been doing family history research in preparation for writing something called Clemmie – about an uncle who died 75 years ago in Weewak, New Guinea. Questions we didn’t know how enough to ask are now being both asked and answered in my attempt at authenticity in the writing. If that is possible, then the product will be good…although the writing of it will require a leap of faith. I find it difficult to put into outline form that which will become the dialogue necessary to tell the story. It’s a mashup of Field of Dreams and Lincoln at the Bardo. Heaven is a house in south Miami which no longer exists – did you know that?

Of Days left before the November 3rd election to rid us of this meddlesome pest (quote from Henry II re: Becket – with slight modification)

Trump ain’t no priest, that’s for sure, much less an Archbishop. But his followers do think him a martyr for a cause – one that’s on the verge of death..no more white supremecy.

But let’s talk about China. Gzero’s annoying Ian Bremmer provided perspective. Sadly, he should have been taking notes when Charlie Rose interviewed him. He and Ammanpour make the same deadly mistake of monopolizing the conversation instead of letting the subject speak. Anyway, the perspective? There are three perspectives on the trade war with China. One from a Democrat politician (useless), one from a Chinese ex-pat finance gal and one from a former Prime Minister of Australia. Interesting sources, eh?

Forget about the Dem politician – gave Trump kudos for starting the trade war by confronting China’s violation of WTO rules, then trashed him for his methodology for dealing with the aftermath – cause he coulda done better? Don’t know – Gzero boy didn’t ask him.

The Chinese lady in finance says Trump’s trade war is actually helping China by forcing it to be more independent of its manufacturing base. I agree with this point. But she didn’t look beyond it – bring on the Aussie Ambassador.

He made two good points. First: China negotiated the way it always did – promise until it’s time to sign and then waffle on accountability. That’s how we got in trouble in the first place. But he added a second good point. Xi has stepped out from where the old guard was – taking a much more assertive lead in global economic affairs for which he is vulnerable to his many enemies within the party. Reference President Rouhani of Iran signing onto the nuclear treaty, with lots of criticism from the power brokers in the Republican Guard.

But Xi perceived a global weakness in leadership and decided to use China’s vast resources to maneuver things to China’s benefit. And who did he emulate in doing this? Why, the US of course. Same situation was occurring after WW II, and the Marshal plan was instituted – ostensibly to held rebuild Europe, but in reality to transition America’s manufacturing from war materiél to bricks and steel and everything needed to rebuild what Britain and we bombed in Germany, and what Germany destroyed in Britain and France. Unlimited demand – kept the economy going. Did we get paid back? Not directly – the rationale was to keep these countries out from under the Soviet sphere, so it was the kickoff to the cold war. But rebuilt Britain, France and Germany did actively trade with the US after rebuilding, so it was an excellent investment. Xi is investing in Iran, the horn of Africa and Venezuela. He’s building ports in all those countries. Why would Xi want ports in the middle east and western hemisphere? No doubt to bolster trade, right? Hmm..hawks would tend to disagree. I think he’s preparing for whatever comes his way.

But just remember: 450 more days ’til bliss or blister.

451 days remain until the November 3, 2020 election for senators, congressmen and women and the president. That alone is reason enough to start blogging again. So start I shall..be prepared for an onslaught of verbiage on a plethora of topics..not the least of which will be trying to ascertain the answer to the question: will we be stuck with that man for another 4 years? We shall see.

On the day before Father’s Day, my immediate family is gathered for a meal celebrating fathers and a couple of birthdays. Thanks to Alexa, we started listening to music to satisfy everyone’s tastes. My Girl, by the Temptations..Beat It Michael Jackson; and then Emily started playing ‘Feelin’ Good’, the version by Nina Simone. That made me think about Dinah Washington’s “What a Difference a Day Makes”. “Alexa: play ‘What a Difference a Day Makes” by Dinah Washington. There it was. I was immediately transported back to 1962 or so – when my mother and father were still together, and there was always something interesting playing on the stereo. My father introduced me to Dinah, to Judy Garland with her Carnegie Hall two record set (I still know all the words to every song), Barbra Streisand’s Second Album. But Dinah had a special place with me, as he loved her music and played the album often. And that is a gift he gave me. I still recall every word to the song, and can sort of sound like her singing it. Would I have ever found her without him? Not likely.

The art of Jack Amoroso, a Coconut Grove artist of little repute, but his vivid colors in his boat scenes still brings back memories. Danish modern furniture, including the Grundig Majestic hi-fi with a short wave radio built in that could pick up international broadcasts (like it was trying to go home to Berlin). His ’62 Thunderbird and her ’57 Fairlane convertible. He’d make razor thin slices of eggplant into the best parmigiana dish ever tasted. To this day, I can’t eat sloppy joe without a dollop of sour cream on top – his legacy too. Those were the good days. But there were always hints of random bad days, and worse days to come. When I was five and we were supposed to go to the school carnival, but he came home drunk (apparently – I was too young to know about that) and threatened to shoot her? Or how eventually, since his drinking episodes were so unpredictable, I stopped inviting friends over to the house completely. Then the divorce, her acrimony and inability to recognize her own contribution to the demise of the marriage. So many painful issues, never addressed and never resolved.

How could two people who could have been decent parents have gotten it so wrong? How could grandparents, aware of the impending disaster, have given up and moved away so they didn’t have to see the carnage? Was it the times – the era of the Cold War or a generation that was between the conformist Eisenhower era and the hippie ’60’s with nothing to claim as their own? Boredom? Midlife crisis? But these afflictions didn’t seem to affect my friends’ parents. Why were mine so screwed up, the effect of which was to maim, in varying degrees and in varying ways, their children?

I have begun to understand a little of how he ended up the way he did. His older brother – the favored one by both parents – the musician, the one with the beautiful blonde girlfriend that eventually married Dean Martin – died an alleged war hero in April ’44. Younger brother – dad – was in ‘flight training’ in Arkansas when older brother was a KIA. That was an event that family could neither talk about nor overcome. Nothing was ever the same for anybody in that immediate family. Dad hated his older brother; they’d have fistfights that drew blood as a reflection of their mutual hatred. But when older brother died, jeez – how do you compete with that? Those pictures on the wall of the grandparents house – the fighter pilot in his sheepskin-collar flight jacket, looking dashing but now long dead. He might have been short, but he was tanned, buff and good looking. But then there was dad – pale, thin, white-blonde hair and only a navigator that never saw action because it was all over essentially by the time his training was done. So what does he do? HE TRIES TO TAKE THAT DEAD BROTHER’S PLACE…but he could never succeed.

He wanted to be an architect; he became a lawyer and joined his father’s practice, as his brother would have been in law school without the war. He was involved in the gun range and shooting clubs, but his heart was never in it – his brother in law Jim took his place in that venue, so he was even more alienated from his father – another perfect man that everybody loved and respected. And then there was the child that wasn’t his – our oldest brother – the product of my mother’s brief ‘marriage’ to a navy man named Kane after dad went off to training and wouldn’t marry her before he left. She just wanted to get away from her mother – another bad family dynamic, with a twin sibling that her mom always favored. So they were two disasters that came together to create three additional children that I don’t think either of them ever had any interest in or wanted.

But the entire family was schooled in never being willing to face any of their demons. I suppose it’s a fairly new phenomenon with the advent of self-help books and psychotherapy to dredge it all up and get past it. But they wouldn’t – or couldn’t. So here I am at age 68, finally coming to grips with the whys and hows, and being truly grateful for the few good times and pleasant memories of my childhood. So on this Father’s Day eve, now that you are no more, bye Dad. I wish things had been different. But I’m still grateful for the gifts you gave me.

Unscripted Trump (UT)

If you’re old enough to recall the Fifties, a movie called The Three Faces of Eve introduced us to Multiple Personality Disorder, MPD. What is MPD? Well, it may be a conspiracy, created by patient and therapist to diagnose a problem and sell books and movie rights, or it may be a real product of childhood abuse. Who can tell? But in the case of DtheT, I think it’s helpful to identify three completely separate personalities in order to predict what he is likely to do in the future.

First, I must give a nod to the NY Times columnist Gail Collins for the idea and the titles. Thank you, Gail. You are a very wise woman – and it would take a woman thinking and writing about DtheT to define it this way. Men would be unlikely to see the three personalities, because they are generally not aware of the nuances of anyone’s personality.

Let’s start with the one everybody pretty uniformly dislikes: the one Gail called Unscripted Trump (UT). The picture above kind of says it all, eh? This personality seems to come out when DtheT is tired, under pressure (like press conferences when he doesn’t have an answer right or readily available), or just annoyed – maybe when he looks at Tiffany and realizes what he gave up to fool around with Marla. In the parlance of Will Schutz and The Human Element, this personality is low on competence (facts seem to elude him, so he makes stuff up), extremely low on likeability (the picture), but very high on significance (I am the greatest president ever!) This profile reminds one of the usual suspects: Hitler, Mussolini, Idi Amin and Ted Bundy. Yep – psychopaths.

Then there’s the second personality. This one Gail calls Reasonable Chatty Trump (RCT). This is the one most likely to show his face in private meetings with people he admires and respects, like Bill Gates or Robert Gates. This is the one that seems to listen, and appears to share these individuals’ world view. This is how we got Rex Tillerson, a fairly reasonable Secretary of State. It’s how we got H.R. McMaster, taking up the reins at the National Security Council after Mad Dog Mattis suggested his name. But the public seldom sees RCT, because this persona does not comport with what UT thinks the ‘base’ want to see. So this one remains in the shadows, and only comes out when it’s absolutely necessary. RCT is evenly balanced between competence and likeability, and is actually a bit suppressed on significance. Think George W. Bush mixed with Papa Bush. Just an all around decent fellow.

Then there’s the third personality, the one Gail calls SNORT (Somewhat Normal Republican Trump). This is the personality the Republicans in Congress most like to see, but the one the ‘base’ hates because he’s BORING. The speech given two nights ago to Congress was given by SNORT. This is a necessary personality, because it’s the equivalent of a belly rub for the media. They are so happy to see UT put under wraps, and they seldom get to see RCT, so they settle for SNORT and get all giggly over him. Sad, isn’t it? This persona appears to be higher on competence, lower on likeability and practically invisible on significance. This is the ‘presidential’ one.

So which personality will spell the ultimate doom of DtheT, if doom comes? Duh – UT will become dominant, and cause the host body to crack and hide under the bed in the Lincoln bedroom. Can he keep it together long enough to fulfill his four year term? If the pressure continues unabated, probably not. If the Republicans in Congress and the people that surround the host body can keep UT suppressed and try to encourage RCT to come out, leavened with a little SNORT when necessary, he will survive.

But here’s the thing. The next four years will be payback time for the Dems to get even. Eight years of abuse at the hands of the Reps will be avenged. In the process, nothing will get done. Fixing health care is hard. Getting those coal miners back to work is likely impossible, unless he creates a CCC-type government jobs opportunity in Appalachia with public works taking the place of mining for coal. Immigration reform has been a complete bust thus far, and the blue states’ attorneys general are sharpening rhetoric to bring down whatever comes next. And then there’s the question of money – who is going to pay for all this? Will Tea Party Republicans abandon their zeal to tamp down deficit spending? Maybe. But even if they do go along, with no support from Senate Democrats, nothing will get down by 2018. The less that gets done, the more we’ll see UT. As a result, in 2020, a reasonable Republican like Brian Sandoval from Nevada will fight all three faces of DtheT for the nomination in order to bring the party back to sanity again. This is when UT will be most dangerous. Slippery slope.

I find it interesting that DtheT seems to use the Rolling Stones’ You Can’t Always Get What You Want song in his ‘campaign’ events – you know, the re-election campaign for nearly four years from now that he’s perpetually running? If you actually read the lyrics, they’re quite dark, with references to lives that in no way resemble his. Oh, you say – what? Because Mick is so hard to understand, you have no idea what those lyrics are? Neither did I, so here they are.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Music and Lyrics by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards

I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she was gonna meet her connection
At her feet was footloose man
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you might find
You get what you need
I went down to the demonstration
To get my fair share of abuse
Singing, “We’re gonna vent our frustration
If we don’t we’re gonna blow a 50-amp fuse”

Chorus

I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
To get your prescription filled
I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
And man, did he look pretty ill
We decided that we would have a soda
My favorite flavor, cherry red
I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy
Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was “dead”
I said to him:

[Chorus]

I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands

Chorus

These lyrics are way too dark, soulful and drug-addled for this to be from Trumpland. This has Steve Bannon’s fingerprints all over it. From the datelines on articles about The Stones being dismayed at him using their music, it’s clear it was added after Bannon took over.

It is all Bannon, all the time with Trump, the empty vessel. And it will be this way for a while, until the vessel begins to think the credit belongs to him. When that happens, you will finally see all the campaign truths come out from the master himself, who will destroy his creation. The guileless Reps in Congress will have no choice but to go along. Is this good governance for our country? Decidedly not. Will we survive it? I believe so. Wait for it – and be prepared for the implosion.

Here’s the next one in the continuing story of my two fish. Enjoy