Things I’d do if I were president

It’s in the air. Can’t help but wonder.

  1. Raise taxes on the super-rich to bring them more into line with the rest of the populace. Like if you own 50 percent of the wealth, you pay at least 50 percent of the federal budget. Use the income for health care, education, and similar benefits for all citizens. (Yes, it’s income redistribution … but so is an economy where cheap imports keep lowering wages.)
  2. Support environmental action and sustainable economics. We’d be back in the Paris climate control accords, for certain.
  3. Raise the cap on Social Security contributions by the rich. Of course, we can afford Social Security if we’re willing. Just raise the cap on the superrich.
  4. Demand auditing controls on military expenditures. Bernie’s right on this one.
  5. Impose a national sales tax for health care relief for domestic manufacturers. This would level the playing field when it comes to imports versus homegrown.
  6. The next step? Medicare for all.
  7. Raise the minimum wage. Nobody can live on the current level. It’s an insult to the value of labor.
  8. Recognize a shorter work week as the basis for benefits and workplace protections.
  9. Break up the banking and financial conglomerates. Too big to fail is an invitation to another colossal collapse.
  10. Name Barack Obama to the Supreme Court.

~*~

OK, since we’re dreaming, I’d also have a problem-solving Congress. One without Mitch McConnell.

What would you do?

Feel like quitting?

Got the day after Labor Day blues? Think of a job or school or volunteer post. Whatever. If you need an excuse, you can always tell them something like this.

  1. I’m tired.
  2. Won Megabucks.
  3. Am about to be beamed up, out of here.
  4. Got a better offer.
  5. Have had enough B.S.
  6. Don’t like the public I’m dealing with or my coworkers or the setting or my surroundings.
  7. Don’t agree with policy.
  8. Can’t live with the dress code.
  9. Just don’t care.
  10. It’s too expensive compared to the pay.

~*~

And here I am, retired.

What would you add as an excuse?

 

We’re still questing for a most elusive sauvignon blanc

A few more years ago than I’d like to admit, we were enjoying a special dinner in Portland, Maine, where our waitperson recommended a bottle of wine to accompany our dishes. We trusted her enthusiasm and agreed to go a few dollars higher than our usual ceiling.

It was well worth it and, as we learned later, the restaurant was pricing the bottle at retail rather than the usual three- or four-times any store tag. More points.

We took one sip and knew this was like no other white wine we’d had before – or, for that matter, since, not even from the same winery. It must have been a superfine vintage. It had an edge we could only describe as stony – something crisp, clear, sharp. And it did, indeed, enhance our five-star experience.

Trying to find that edge again has become something of an ongoing challenge. We’ve had some fine sauvignon blanc bottles since, but the holy grail remains a quest.

 

What makes for a memorable getaway?

Getaway? I was about to say vacation. Who am I trying to kid? I’m retired!

Actually, when I was dutifully employed, “vacation” usually meant hunkering down at home to concentrate on my literary enterprises and revision, or maybe even a reading orgy, or taking off to a family or Quaker gathering. T’ain’t quite the same as going fancy free. Still, I managed to get away on some memorable trips.

In this list, I’m ruling out daytrips. Gotta be an overnight, at the least.

Here are ten I remember fondly, sometimes even from repeated visits.

~*~

  1. Appalachian Trail. Backpacking when I was barely 12 was an ordeal. One that’s everlasting deeply imprinted in my soul, especially the mountaintop of blooming rhododendron at the end of our week. What I recall most is the discovery that if you go far enough away from the trailhead, the litter disappears … and then you’re in a whole new, pristine, world.
  2. Fort Warden. The location itself didn’t overwhelm me, even though it overlooked the point where Puget Sound and the Strait of Juan de Fuca come together. I think that was because of all the remaining fortifications. But such incredible waters! The former World War II naval post had become a Washington state park for the arts and hosted a weeklong workshop with some of my favorite poets. Nearby Port Townsend gave us some fun bars for our evenings. The former base is featured in the movie “An Officer and a Gentleman.”
  3. North Cascades National Park. My three times of camping there and a single mountain climb with views of Mount Shuksan included finding gold dust in my dishes as I washed them in a mountain stream that swelled with melting ice during the day. I had no idea how many tall peaks rise in British Columbia till I crested the summit that day and looked north.
  4. San Francisco. It was the southernmost point of a two-week vacation that included North Pacific Yearly Meeting sessions in Olympia, Washington, and camping in the North Cascades. My then-wife and I spent two nights in our sleeping bags in the San Francisco Friends meetinghouse (I think we paid two dollars a day). My introduction to fine Japanese and Thai cuisine came just around the corner. Why haven’t I returned?
  5. Chicago. Repeatedly, each one leaving vivid memories. The art museum alone is worth the trip, but I’ve also spent time high in the Chicago Tribune tower with Pulitzer-winning journalists. The last few visits were helped by having a lover residing in Hyde Park.
  6. Greensboro, North Carolina. It was a genealogy-research trip that then swung northeast to Philadelphia and Brooklyn. I need to go back and see more, now that I know what to expect.
  7. Lake Sebago region. The year before I remarried, I spent a week in October in a rustic cabin on the shore of Crescent Lake in Maine. Cold nights required a wood fire, that sort of thing. Learned to canoe there, too. Guess it was my Walden Pond experience.
  8. Cape Cod. Since the kids’ grandfather lived in Wellfleet, we had a great excuse to visit. It was an easy walk to the ocean and a short drive to Provincetown.
  9. Providence. We found a great deal on a luxury downtown hotel, one where we looked down on the dome of the Rhode Island state capitol. The mattresses alone were enough to make us not want to go anywhere else, but we did enjoy innovative cuisine and easy public transportation. Our strolls along the river and Colonial neighborhoods were enchanting. And then there was our tour of the Slater Mill and the industrial revolution.
  10. Eastport, Maine. To put this in context, we had earlier visited Camden in dead winter and were delighted. But that’s a tony, crowded tourist hive each summer and way out of our league. Ditto for another B&B up the shore in Belfast, when we attended the Common Ground Fair. Our trip to Eastport on a Memorial Day weekend, however, was more inviting. The unpretentious, working-class easternmost city in the U.S. simply felt like the real thing. And yes, the ocean views and fresh seafood were spectacular.

~*~

Where would you suggest? Any great memories?

Ten cool facts about glaciers

In my novel Nearly Canaan, Joshua and Jaya settle into a place unlike anything they would have imagined. One of its features is the glaciers on Mount Rainier and Mount Adams.

Glaciers are made up of permanent snow cover that’s become compacted into what are sometimes called rivers of ice as they are pushed down a mountainside or valley.

Here are some details.

~*~

  1. About 10 percent of the earth’s surface is covered by glacial ice, but that’s shrinking fast.
  2. Glaciers store about 75 percent of the earth’s fresh water.
  3. If all of the land ice melted, sea levels would rise 230 feet.
  4. During the last ice age, glaciers covered up to a third of the world’s land mass.
  5. Glacier National Park in the Rocky Mountains of Montana has 35 named glaciers. At current global warming rates, none will be left by the year 2030.
  6. Scientists categorize glaciers into eight types, from ice caps and continental ice sheets to hanging glaciers and cirques in depressions on a mountain.
  7. Their surface often appears rough and wrinkled, containing deep cracks or fissures known as cravasses. These can be a deadly hazard for mountain climbers, especially when hidden by fresh snow or a whiteout.
  8. Ice caves melting into a glacier mouth are filled with ethereal blue light during the day.
  9. Antarctic ice shelves calve icebergs that are up to 50 miles long.
  10. To be classified as a glacier, an ice field needs to maintain at least .1 square kilometer of size throughout the year. That’s nearly 25 acres or 19 football fields.

~*~

Have you ever seen one? Up close?

Two climbers pass under a glacier. (Photo by Kurt E. Smith)

Remembering Nosmo

I’ve never been a dog person, but we did have cats when I was growing up and again in my first marriage. These days, it’s been household rabbits, a whole different story.

But my all-time favorite cat was an all-black, marvelously sleek male tommy who was half-Siamese. He’s the inspiration for Gobi in my latest fiction. Our dog-loving neighbors even gave him the compliment of saying he was more like a dog than a cat, and their own German shepherd was one dog I came to enjoy.

The naming came about in one of my flights of imagination. I was sitting in a classroom looking at a NO SMOKING sign and wondered about shifting the space. That led to NOSMO KING, which was soon bestowed on our kitty.

I thought I was being pretty clever, but a few years later my in-laws sent us a newspaper clipping where a human named Nosmo King was mentioned. I don’t remember if he had a different last name or whether King was it. Drat!

Yes, sometimes reality is stranger than fiction. And sometimes it just leads to some strange fiction.

As for that dream house itself?

We’re at a point of downsizing. On a limited budget, at that.

Here’s what’s on my list of considerations.

~*~

  1. A pleasing work area: In my case, that’s the writing studio. For my wife (the foodie), the kitchen and pantry plus utility space. And in both, abundant wiring.
  2. A good view: In our dream, we’re looking at the ocean, but a lake or mountain might do.
  3. Wood heat: At least as backup. We’ve been very happy with our efficient Jotul wood stove. Besides, it’s good backup during power outages.
  4. Adequate insulation and heating/cooling: We’re set on New England, after all. Cold drafts are expensive and annoying. And summer is really only six weeks.
  5. Easy maintenance: I’m not a hobby do-it-yourselfer, and I have other ways to spend my time than amateur house repair. Our budget needs to keep calls to construction-industry tradesmen minimal.
  6. Smart use of space for our needs: Think affordable IKEA. Bigger is not necessarily better.
  7. Sufficient and efficient storage: Closets are a recent addition to New England houses. Take it from there. In our case, this would also include expansive bookshelves and a large garden shed.
  8. A three-season porch: Elbow-room, if you want, especially for entertaining guests in all but deep winter or tackling special projects.
  9. Minimal snow plowing: Even a short driveway can be difficult to clear if there’s nowhere to pile the snow. A long driveway can be expensive to keep clear and, for that matter, decently paved. As for parking?
  10. Hot tub? Well, this is a dream list and there is that three-season porch.

~*~

What would be on your list?

What would your dream home have?

My, have things changed from the time I first proposed this as a Tendrils topic and the time I actually sat down to draft the text. I thought I’d be living in Dover for the rest of my life, but now we’re actually looking to relocate to somewhere, well, for us more dreamy. I’ll leave it at that for the time being, and besides, that prospect just may turn out to be a very pleasant pipe dream.

What I am sensing that much of the dream has to do with location, beyond the house itself. This week I’ll focus on the locale. Next week, the walls, floor, and roof.

~*~

  1. Walkability: Pedestrian-friendly, with suitable restaurants, stores, parks, medical facilities within an easy stroll. What we like to call civility.
  2. A Quaker Meeting: Kindred spirits and spiritual friendship.
  3. Natural wonder: At the moment, that includes a view of the ocean. Nearby trails a plus.
  4. Cultural amenities: Classical music, live theater, classic film series, that sort of thing. A good choir to join, poetry readings, especially. Plus a decent library.
  5. Medical facilities: At my age, having qualified doctors and a hospital or well-equipped clinic at hand has become an important consideration.
  6. Good neighbors: We’ve been quite lucky in Dover that way.
  7. Community spirit: A sense of common good makes a huge difference. I’ll include local and state taxes here, with an eye to what’s provided for the buck. (In Dover, for example, my indoor swimming pool activity would fit into the equation.)
  8. Public utilities: Hard to think that in our times, the reliability of the electrical system or broadband access has to be questioned. Water and sewage become considerations, too.
  9. Visual balance: This includes houses, gardens, and retail areas that are well maintained and have personal expression. That rules out most suburbs.
  10. Safe and secure: Low crime rate, as well as fast fire and ambulance response, are definite considerations.

~*~

What would be on your list?

 

How I’d love to have dormers in my attic studio

For whatever reasons, a writer’s workspace holds a fascination. Many readers envision a kind of magical chamber somewhere, and we writers often dream of the perfect setup, though Annie Dillard’s concrete block room with no outside distractions may be the better option. Mark Twain even had a billiard table in his, on the top floor, no less.

These days, mine’s under the slopping ceilings in the north end of our third floor. A single window, rattling in winter and letting bugs in through the edges of the screen through the summer, is the sole connection to the outside world, apart from rain or squirrels pounding on the roof above.

There are days, though, when I do wish it had dormers on each side, not just to open the headroom up, either, but to allow me to figure out what’s going on when I hear something. Did someone just pull up in the driveway, that sort of thing.

Not that I could justify the expense anytime soon.

What one touch would you like to add to your own living or work space?