Q quarreling...Roses...Tomatoes

   Roses to you, in fact roses to all of us who have endured the horror show of 2020. Living through the pandemic has been demanding enough, but the political/cultural skirmishes have pushed us to new and uncomfortable places.

    Economic woes, as personal financial crises, concern over children's education and well being, and personal health worries have driven far too many in the nation to the brink.

    So, enjoy the roses from Lana and a diversion about tomatoes. The analysis piece of this post comes later. 

the crop report 

    Growing tomatoes is a big deal when you grow up in Indiana. 

     Bless her heart, my mom set out tomato plants every year but I am hard pressed to remember there ever being a bounty of the summer fruit. We ended up buying them from farmers and growers or were gifted them by neighbors who had more luck.

      Luck changed when Lana entered my life. Her mother was a master gardener, and it must be in the genes. Lana has lamented that living on a hill side on a ridge affords precious little flat ground. So she has taken to what I call the Frank Phillippi school of tomato growing.

        The crop is distributed in pots. My pal Frank amazed me decades ago when he was living in an apartment in Georgetown with a tiny balcony and a couple of sunny windows where he introduced his tomatoes in pots technique.

     A few years later when he owned a home in Alexandria, but with limited sunny garden space, he upped his game by putting the pots in wagons and moving them into the sun.

       People from Indiana will swear the best tomatoes and corn are their province. They are indeed joys of an Indiana summer, but we've found excellent corn and tomatoes here  in the California Republic.

     If you are a long time reader you will recall we've experimented with our tomato crops. We've sheltered them in visquine "huts," wrapped them in plastic, and have tried raised beds. This summer it's pots, in sunny and warm zones on the back hill and at the back of the house.

      I'm a devotee of the San Marzano and yellow varieties.

      Lana is not overly fond of tomatoes, except in cooking, but she put out a variety this year and they seem to be flourishing. She complains that she's not growing enough to "put them up" or can them as she did when she gardened Indiana's flat land.

      Another favorite is the cherry tomato. And again she's got a prolific pot. Next year though, she's got designs on a piece of the hillside where flowers may make way for a new tomato bed. "They need to be in the ground," she insists. That means some ground work, flattening, perhaps roto tilling and soil amending will be on the fall and winter do list. 

a mask-less confab

     Generations hence will find this time fraught with lunacy and perhaps inexplicable behavior. 
      In unpacking how we got to a Trump, they will learn he is the poster boy for a fractured culture where self indulgence   and entertainment challenged thoughtfulness and a common good. 
      There were some during the Spanish Influenza pandemic in 1918 who refused to wear masks. There were super spreader events even then. 
      Xenophobes, nationalists and white supremacists have always been with us, but usually marginalized by an intelligent society and a conscientious political code. 
       Science has had its doubters forever, but for most of our history the ignorant have lacked political power.
       Conspiracy theories probably began with the dawn of humankind. 
       What makes this time different is the ubiquitous hum of media, mass and social, and combined with the intellectual decline of the nation. It is exacerbated by the tectonics of media economics that has left us with fewer gate keepers, fact checkers, time tested aggregators, trusted delivery systems, and the rise of the importance of opinion. We forget everyone has one. The value of opinion was once commensurate with the quality of a life experience, training and education. Now blowhards make their living bloviating and sad, weak, easily led, ill informed people, challenged with thinking, allow others tell them what to think.
      And so we have Trump, and now Q. 
    

textures and shapes

     

battling Q's 

      I would not be surprised to learn that Steve Bannon is somehow a godfather to the Q silliness. It fit's his MO of cultivating fringe and marginalized and intelligence challenged demographics.
     He may have nothing to do with it. Maybe Bill Maher was not joking when a couple of years ago he admitted to being Q.
     I'm sorry, if you think there is a shred of credibility in any of the QAnon goofiness, you have just relinquished your privilege to speak about anything other than fairy tales, and cleaning out horse stables.

     a true Q?

      If you are interested in intrigue about the idea of the letter Q, then do a little reading about the Q source used in Biblical criticism and scholarship.
      For some 120 years scholars and theologians have discussed, debated and studied what is called the Q source-a compendium of statements and thoughts attributed to Jesus, the radical, reformist rabbi for whom Christianity owes its origins. Some hypothesize these thoughts of Christ were drawn from the faiths early oral tradition and thus explains how and why some of the Gospels are similar.
     The research, scholarship and debate is fascinating and endlessly more stimulating that thinking Donald Trump is the savior of the world, doing battle with pedophiles, the deep state and aliens. 
      I've been saying for almost 4 years, Trumpism is fascism, and authoritarianism. Some of you Trumpists and/or QAnon devotees may read this as Trump is the Anti-Christ. I'm not saying that. But believe it if it will help you come to your senses. 
     Jesus might get a kick out of that.

  

    Stay safe. Take care of each other.

    See you down the trail.

We Are Better Than...

the long view

      Watching the world is easy out here, close to the edge of the planet. 
      In full disclosure, we're in a retired herd, and free ranging between the poles of Los Angeles and San Francisco. As we watch the world shut down and try to get back to normal, we see things others may not and there are reasons for that.
     The wide open space out here, gives us room to think and time to ponder. Population is sparse, the sky is big and there is room to put things into perspective.
     A lot of us "have been there, done that," doers, players, even power players and movers and shakers from a time before Trump and time before the virus. Experience matters.
     When I broke into a big city newsroom in the late 60's, my mentor was an old newspaperman in his 70's. He'd seen it all. 
     "You'll see everything," he said. "Like the good book says, 'nothing new under the sun' just different names."

      

    I wrote about Bob Hoover in a September 29, 2016 post that you can link to here. Born in 1898 Bob lived through the Spanish Influenza pandemic. He was a musician at the time and became a reporter in 1918. Bob said it was good to listen, especially to the old people, because they had seen and done a lot and had survived. 
    I listened to Bob. There was a time when the culture listened to and even revered "old people." Not sure that is so anymore.
    If you scratch hard enough at the drive to "reopen" the economy, you will find an element that places economic recovery as a higher priority than the well being of those who are most vulnerable; geezers, gray panthers, boomers, old people, seniors, whatever we're called and those with health issues, not all of whom are aged. I suspect it is more an unintended consequence than a malicious act, although there is a lot of "OK Boomer" these days.
     It probably cannot be avoided. Economic collapse does severe harm and we must be about making repairs. If we had been led by a fit, qualified, experienced leader, we would have been better prepared, more proactive and could have moved to isolate the most vulnerable, prevent overwhelming hospitals and still maintain some work and commerce. It is too late for that now and in some of the clamor to reopen there has been a strain of something dangerous.  
     Before we wade into that, we pause for a moment at San Simeon Creek, babbling its way to the Pacific. The visual rhythm of a mountain stream is refreshing. 
    

masks are about health and safety

    The decision to wear a mask, or not, is about health and safety. Masks, social distancing, and isolating at home helped California and other places avoid over loading hospitals as happened in Italy, New York, New Jersey and elsewhere.
     In a twisted and sad way, some try to make mask wearing, or not, a political statement. That is wrong headed and indicative of the toxic and divisive nature of Trump leadership. Masks protect. Everyone!
     Trump supporters are mob thinkers, easily led, blindly loyal, neither encumbered with nuance, nor bothered by efforts at reason. They don't need facts, their leader will tell them what is fake. 
      The leader is arguably the most aggressive liar in history. He takes an unapproved medicine and many follow suit. He does not deign to wear a mask and they've made that a battle line. They are fools, following a fool and they are with in their rights. That's how it works.
      A friend from college days, a successful attorney and historic litigator wrote from his mountain home back east-
     "This Trump stuff is crazy beyond words. The right wingers who won't stay at home and won't wear masks I hope become infected. Since natural selection is the driving engine of evolution, maybe it will all work out and they will be eliminated from the gene pool."
      He went on to say he hopes they hold their convention where they will be self corralled and infecting each other."
     He was never one to mince words.

       

follow the leader

     

 Life teaches. A good leader is always ready to reach down and lend a hand, especially when you are in deep

and struggling.

we need a cure

   We are better than who we have been in the last four years. The US needs a cure. The US needs a vaccine to prevent a second wave of Trumpism. It is a malicious, selfish, divisive, corrupt, fascistic and unAmerican movement that is a virus in the body politic. It is a government of fraud and failure with blood on its hands. Ignorance is the currency and loyalty to a sick man is the tool of survival.

    Firing 4 Inspectors General in just weeks is evidence of a dangerous mindset and a threat to the structure of the United States government.  It is a move by a would be dictator to obstruct constitutional balance of power. He want's unchecked, unchallenged power and that cannot be allowed. 

   It is fitting that in years and decades hence the Trump years will be known as the years of the Virus. As terrible as he is, as historically failed as he has been, he will play second banana to a virus. Covid-19 gets top billing. A century later, Trump may be only an asterisk. 

    By now the only thing that might change that is if he were to set his hair on fire on Fifth Avenue. No one would stop him. At least no one in a mask.

    

for the mask wearers of the world

the Diane rose
from a Cambria magic garden

      John Chancellor, the late NBC journalist said "being a reporter is like being a fire horse, you always want to answer the bell." 

       All of those years of assignments and deadlines have driven how I have attacked and consumed information, data, reporting and science over these last weeks. I've been keen to watch how governors, communities, medical groups and others have reacted. 

       The virus and the shutdown has revealed how fractured we are. Singularly it exposes how broken this version of capitalism is, and how wealth distribution is abusively wrong and incomprehensibly unfair. 

        We are better than this. The notions of fairness, equality, compassion, and greatness have been in us historically. It is time to be guided by better angels, those same angels Abraham Lincoln invoked in his first inaugural

   "We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it, must not break out bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." 

     See you down the trail.