I Left My Money in San Francisco

 “Spend what you need but just throw even a few coins into a tin and forget that you have it. A woman should always have something put by.” Min Jin Lee, Pachinko

We spent three days in San Francisco to celebrate our children’s birthdays. Miranda turned twenty on September 3, and Gabriel ushered in his twenty-fifth year on the 4th. They were born five years apart. Our last visit to San Francisco was fifteen years ago and much has changed in that short span of time. There was the financial implosion of 2008 and 2009, the recovery and gentrification that changed many of SF’s neighborhoods, the election of Donald Trump and the madness of his administration, massive wildfires that confirmed some of our worst foreboding about the changing climate, and the pandemic. Gabriel lived in San Francisco for a couple of years, moved down to Los Angeles for a job at the LA Phil, then back to San Francisco when he got a job at the Opera. He lives in a quintessential Victorian-style house with three roommates. The front door opens on a steep flight of stairs, climbs to a landing, then another short flight of stairs to the living area. The windows in the high-ceilinged living room offer views of downtown. The room Gabriel occupies has hardwood floors, a fireplace and a lovely bay window. 

Miranda spent most of her time in Berkeley visiting two of her girlfriends from high school who attend UC Berkeley. She got her first tattoo and rode the BART for the first time. We all had dinner together at Gabriel’s on his birthday. The boy made pasta, bread, a lovely salad, and cookies for dessert. 

We stayed at the Marriott Marquis on 4th street, near Union Square. There’s a Trader Joe’s across the street from the hotel. The room was decent, although the mini-fridge leaked water. Marriott charges its guests $14.95 per day for Internet access, $80 a day to park a car. Aside from being annoying, it was another reminder of how corporations try to squeeze as much profit as they can from every customer. We parked our Honda across the street for $58 a day. The Dodgers were in town for a weekend series against the Giants and the hotel was full of baseball fans decked out in team gear. Face masks were required in the common areas of the hotel, and at every restaurant and the Academy of Science we had to show our vaccination cards and ID to get in. We didn’t find this unreasonable or see it as an encroachment on our freedom. It seemed a sensible precaution in a pandemic. We got around on foot, and by Uber and Metro. Union Square is gritty and grimy, populated with tourists and homeless folks, street corner preachers and panhandlers. The Disney Store is closing, Crate & Barrel is looking for seasonal help. 

The Academy of Science in Golden Gate Park was fantastic, worth every cent of the $40 entry fee. We went to the top of the observation tower at the de Young Museum to take in the panoramic view of the city. The sky was hazy that day, but the view was still spectacular. The park was crowded with joggers, cyclists, people walking dogs, picnicking on the grass, playing Frisbee. The weather was fine, sunny and warm. I like the ethnic diversity of San Francisco. I enjoy looking at the architecture and the fire escapes, the old facades juxtaposed with gleaming glass towers. 

 I tried to stay away from the news during the trip, but it was difficult with the shocking reproductive news coming out of Texas and the Supreme Court. The conservative political minority in the United States has been intent on killing a woman’s right to an abortion ever since it realized it was a potent wedge issue. The political (banks, insurance and real estate, large corporations, and the Pentagon) arm of the American right wing cares about low taxes, minimal regulation, weak unions, heavy defense spending, and limited social insurance; this arm doesn’t care one bit about the unborn. The issue is useful in that it gave the political right entry into the world of the Christian right. Both arms are after the same thing, power, but on their respective planes of interest, which frequently overlap. The Christian right believes its male members are sanctioned by the bible to control womens’ bodies. This marriage of convenience and mutual aid is why a man as immoral and religiously illiterate as Donald Trump was adored by evangelicals. 

Naturally, Texas, being Texas, had to go full Taliban against women, with a cruel and bizarre law. The Texas state legislature has a long history of crackpot members and idiotic laws. Read Molly Ivins for confirmation. Note, too, that the legislature rammed this abhorrent anti-abortion law through at the same time it was passing a vicisous voter suppression bill. Power and control, minority over majority, not accidental. I don’t know what to say about the Supreme Court other than to call it what it is: an unelected and unaccountable political body. The action taken by the Court in the Texas matter isn’t as surprising as the cowardly way the majority went about it. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi vowed to create a bill that will codify in federal law a woman’s right to an abortion, but this is a hollow response since such a bill has zero chance of getting through the Senate, unless the Democrats change the rules regarding the filibuster, an action they are too timid to undertake. Pelosi is probably thinking that the abortion issue might be very useful for Democrats in the 2022 midterms. Women voters (especially women of color) could very well hold the key to the Democrats holding the House and Senate. 

In the final days of the US occupation of Afghanistan many conservatives expressed concern about the fate of Afghan women, and cried their crocodile tears, and yet when it comes to the reproductive health of American women, they are only too happy to support Draconian measures that will hurt the poor most of all. The GOP is the party of Hypocrisy. If Republicans are so concerned about women, why is their standard-bearer a serial sexual harasser? Why is the ERA still languishing, and why won’t Republicans back renewal of the Violence Against Women Act? Spare the tears. 

I’m reading The Fall of the House of Dixie by Bruce Levine, a fine history of the Civil War. 

As the Worm Turns

 “These are Shiite Republicans -- they don’t compromise, they don’t deal, they don’t look for the middle way. Because they believe they’re right. They think it’s them against evil. And everybody who ain’t them is evil. I’m just warning you: This is about to happen everywhere. The whole country is being turned into the state whose proudest boast is that sometimes we’re ahead of Mississippi.” Molly Ivins in 2003.

I’ll be honest: when I heard the news that Donald J. Trump, Melania Trump, and Hope Hicks had tested positive for Covid-19, my first thoughts were uncharitable. I stopped myself from thinking, “die motherfucker” but did briefly relish the irony of the leading pandemic denier contracting the virus that he repeatedly told the American people would go away like a miracle. For more than six months, Trump downplayed the seriousness of Covid-19, pushed bogus cures, ridiculed Americans who wear masks and practice social distancing and worry about sending their children to school. Trump thought his superior genes would protect him. 

Off to Walter Reed Hospital went Trump, a precautionary measure according to the reports I read. The problem with everything to do with Donald J. Trump is that the public doesn’t know what to believe, what’s true and what’s fiction. I think it’s fair to say that Trump had one of the shittiest weeks of his presidency. His shaky financial situation is back in the news, with the real possibility of more unflattering details to come; his unhinged, racist, rude and widely ridiculed debate performance on Tuesday night; and now, hospitalized with Covid. Trump’s on a losing streak and part of me says, long may it last. What goes around, comes around, sooner or later -- even for Trump. 

Every dog has his day, though it be nasty, brutish and short.

As Oliver Stone wrote in his memoir, Chasing the Light, “When you find yourself in a maze woven by a con man, there’s no exit.”

I also wondered if Trump’s diagnosis was a stunt, and I spent some time looking for an angle. Is Trump hiding behind the diagnosis to avoid a second debate and another shocking performance? Is he looking for a pretext to explain his likely defeat on November 3? Will he blame Covid for denying  him the opportunity to campaign? Plausible. “The Chinese virus ruined my chances of reelection. I couldn’t campaign. It was very unfair, Biden should have stopped campaigning while I was hospitalized. And by the way, Sleepy Joe never came to visit me. Before Covid attacked me very strongly, our campaign had tremendous enthusiasm and was way ahead of Biden in the polls. I would have won by the greatest margin in history, believe me.”

Trump’s fragile ego cannot handle a public defeat any more than it can handle being exposed as a business failure and tax evader. I even entertained the notion that Trump might drop out of the race, citing health reasons, roll the smoking Trump Dumpster into Pence’s front yard and let Christian Mike take the loss. Trump could then boast and brag that he is still undefeated, the greatest of all time. The problem in Trump World is that crazy shit seems possible. This is what happens when a leader lies non-stop for five years. As Oliver Stone wrote in his memoir, Chasing the Light, “When you find yourself in a maze woven by a con man, there’s no exit.”

Meanwhile, the GOP Dark Arts Agency is hard at its despicable work of ratfucking the vote. The Governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, may be confined to a wheelchair but the man still deserves an ass-kicking. Along with all the tried & true voter suppression tactics that Republicans have refined, Abbott ordered the elimination of ballot collection points in counties with concentrations of Democratic voters. If you can’t stop people from voting, then stop their votes from being tallied. I don’t know what Trump’s favorite henchman, Attorney General William Barr, is up to, but it’s not likely to be legal, moral, fair, or right. 

I keep hearing these imaginary dialogues between Vladimir Putin and Trump. 

The first thing, Donald -- you don’t mind if I call you Donald? Good. The leaders of two great countries, two great powers, should be on a first-name basis. Please call me Vladimir or Vlad, if you want. In a way, we’re brothers in arms, comrades. We share many interests, both as nations and as men. I’d offer you vodka but the KGB informs me that you are a teetotaller. Diet Coke is your beverage of choice. Mine is vodka. To me, vodka is Russia, its heart and history, its misunderstood nobility and spirit. Cheers! 

May I speak frankly, Donald? Will you allow me to be so bold as to offer some friendly advice? You see, I really believe we share some basic beliefs about how the world works. I believe in power, obtaining it through guts and cunning, then using it to reward allies and punish critics. Wielding power isn’t for the faint of heart. Most people are weak, they believe in institutions like the church and the courts, and they’re happy to wait for these institutions to deliver what they need. Men like you and me, Donald, don’t wait for others. We act. While others talk and muse and dream, we act. We take what we want. This is what sets us apart. There have always been men like us, and there always will be. Men with the nerve and the will to wield power. Sometimes you use a scalpel, other times a sledgehammer. Take control of your party first. Make it clear that you value loyalty -- to the party and its ideals, of course -- but also to you. Make the party your messenger. Teach the party that no middle ground exists. Party members must choose, in or out. 

Then get your arms around law enforcement and the spy agencies -- in your case, all 17 of them. I sometimes joke that this is an example of American excess. 17 spy agencies! Appointing people to key posts whose loyalty is unquestioned is more important than qualifications. Then bend the courts to your will. Appoint judges who see the world as you do. In your country judges are useful for silencing the opposition. Would you like another Diet Coke, Donald? I will have another vodka. May I ask you a personal question, Donald? What is so enjoyable about golf? 

The fat’s in the fire. The plot is confused and convoluted, a maze of dead ends. Dear Leader is running out of time and tricks. The virus he claimed was harmless has breached the walls of his house.