About not being pathetic. Stay busy…a little too busy. Here’s where I am with that. In a discussion with myself about what causes/activities arouse my slumbering do-gooder passions enough to actually incorporate them into this lackadaisical lifestyle, I came up with the following: 1) the plight of refugees/displaced/homeless persons, 2) a brand-new political involvement, and 3) a more active writing presence that incorporates Window Seat. My life-long obsessions with books and travel still exist but they aren’t keeping me quite busy enough—pathos could creep in.
The unhoused people of the world. They are, to me, the most tragic of all vulnerable populations. Whether refugees fleeing their homeland or internally displaced, or the localized homeless of the planet…imagine…do it…close your eyes and imagine not having a single safe spot for yourself anywhere. Imagine, your small children with you, your elderly mom…no place to keep them safe. No warmth, no privacy, no rest, no help. Imagine.
For starters, I printed out the 2024 Global Report from UNHCR (United Nations High Commission on Refugees) and started scanning it. At least 129.9 million forcibly displaced and stateless people globally. Another 150 million or so homeless in their own regions around the world. A total 1.6 billion may be without adequate housing. Although most of these figures come from the United Nations, just driving around Albuquerque, New Mexico USA suggests they are probably low.
I next attended a zoom forum from UNHCR. The three people leading that discussion were, to me, worth any ten or twenty millionaire/billionaires or politicians. One point made was that in the last decade refugee numbers have doubled while the budget has remained the same. (So, let me not think about the 1%, the wedding in Venice, the Mar-a -Lago snake-pit, the profits from the maiming, killing, destroying weapons creating ever more members of the bloodsucking class as well as ever more refugees… or I will go mad.)
Meantime, I’ve made my initial proactive move of pulling every book, fiction or non-fiction from my shelves, making a tidy pile, and declaring I will read each and every one for a full understanding of the urgency of the actual situation. The problem is—I am very good at making study plans but often less purposeful about follow-through. Therefore, I’m committing right now to reading while doing. This week’s assignment: to make sufficient contacts to find a place where my small service offerings might make a difference. In other words: ‘put up or shut up.’
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I’ll describe my other two “passion projects” next blog because here I want to be sarcastically disgusted as the US proves once again that our ability to bluster and bomb and bare super boobs all at pretty much the same time is unsurpassed.
You may have noticed we bombed another country last week. True it was another country with a leadership as dysfunctional and corrupt as our present regime. I mean it’s not like we bombed Canada or New Zealand, right? The question of whether the rest of us have the right to kill off bad regimes or even damage their killing potential may never be fully-resolvable—and at the present time in the good old USA, it’s probably best not to dwell on it—hypocrisy might rear its smirking head.
The week also brought us a press full of Jeff and the Boob-bride, and an excellent take on how that particular bride-of-oligarch look has emerged, courtesy Emma Brockes/Guardian/June 25, ’25. People with money can make poor choices about cosmetic surgery too, of course, but the uniformity of this particular look – so heavy on the filler, silicone and Botox as to make its wearers seem not younger, but weirder, and in a state of constant discomfort – suggests something closer to design. If you were the type of person to make liberal references to The Handmaid’s Tale, you might even speculate that this aesthetic has been tailored by the world’s richest men to symbolise just how completely – almost derisively – they can control the bodies of the women around them.
It seemed a disjointed week from the dangerous to the ridiculous—with stern talks to myself about life and meaning in between. I do believe it continues the theme of the unsettling dichotomy of our days. Death raining down here and there, while I’m pondering how to stay useful-while-old and also queasily chuckling over the tawdry insipidness of the new gilded age.
P.S.
Melissa Hortman, Minnesota state legislator, and her husband Mark were buried last week too. I’ve written about this a little before, but can hardly stand to contemplate the whole tragedy, because it’s a murder as close to actually being committed by Donald Trump and his minions as possible without one of them directly pulling the trigger. Who did it? The fascists and god did it.
My inability to even read much about it at this time is due to the fact so many of my neighbors, my fellow citizens, also had their fingers curled around that trigger. If I think too much about that right now, I must go live in a cave with only a cat who doesn’t like humans that much for company.
Melissa Hortman, her husband Mark Hortman, and their dog Gilbert, were killed in their home, on 27 June 2025. Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images
Just exactly how are we supposed to maintain a foothold in what should be a better-cherished state of ordinariness? I thought it would be possible to dwell on the news-of-the-world part of the day and still appreciate and enjoy regular old everyday life for some hours also. Maybe not.
We’re living under a bomb, brag, bully, wholly-fascist government that wants to kill most of us, certainly useless people like me. Best perhaps to just try to say whatever there is to be said in emojis. But I hate emojis so here are a few paragraphs about goals…one is never too old…? Whatever.
My goals for the next 10 years are clearer all of the time. 1. Stay a little too busy—do whatever I must (except for crocheting or volunteering as a hospital greeter) to feel like I can never get it all done, whatever IT is. 2. Always, without fail, go to the gym twice a week, walk three miles in an hour while listening to Brits narrating almost anything on Audible. 3. Do Not Be Pathetic.
Especially Do Not Be Pathetic. To avoid patheticness, one must be so involved in life as to not notice that your voice, actually your whole being, has disappeared, that to the world you are a ghost, a ghost unfortunately still consuming healthcare and housing and food that could better be going to a worthy oligarch—better yet a tech oligarch.
The thing is…I like this wafting about in a semi-transparent state better all of the time. Next thing you know I’ll be shopping at Walmart in my pajamas. Or shoplifting pop tarts at Walgreens. Truthfully, there is some real pleasure in caring little what people think. And some security in believing I’ve aged out of having the Nazis throw me in jail for trashing our new gods.
My favorite meme of today is a pretty 50s housewife saying something like ‘gosh, just barely got the pandemic decorations put away, and it’s already time to get ready for WWIII.’ Since the crash booms aren’t in my neighborhood yet, I’m going to watch some more of a not-great Luxembourgian murder mystery. I was in Luxembourg one time, 1984 to be exact, with my friend Sue. We took the train over from Paris for the night just to say we had been there. I only remember an organ grinder (was there a monkey?) on the high street and a leafy bridge.
Just thought I’d write something because I’m extremely distressed about the world and old age…and yet happyish (after all) in my own confused way.
Minnesota state representative, Melissa Hortman and her husband were murdered in the early hours of Saturday morning by a devout gun-toting, card-carrying MAGA Christian. This photo is from a site called Helping Paws on Facebook and is said to be the Hortman’s dog, also shot to death. Pictures of the Hortmans are not available without permission but they were a beautiful couple, valuable members of the human race. And as all dog people will tell you, they would want to be remembered by a photo of their beloved pooch anyway.
I have spent the past two days in a deeper state of shock than is normal for even these bizarre and troubling times. On Saturday, the juxtaposition of people wanting a better world for all others and people intent on murdering their selected ‘others’ was as stark as it gets. I was at a gathering of a few thousand people in a bright and sunny Albuquerque park who liked each other, loathed trump and his minions, and cared about something besides personal wealth. I was reading the news of a man (Netanyahu) in Israel and a man (who cares what his name is…) in Minnesota, killers true, armed with their gods and their guns, slaughtering away…their particular cults’ Kool-aid dripping down their chins.
For me, these two killers serve as personifications of a type with which the world has always been overrun. They’re fanatical god-botherers and fervent gun-lovers, the most dangerous of humans. Their gods appear on a spectrum, ranging from fire and brimstone-wrathful to going about saving lambs and butterflies (the former always wins). Their guns represent power and anger-relief and a never-ending pleasure in death dealing. The president of this country and his co-partners in crime, Netanyahu and Putin, along with their sycophants have learned to play to the neediness of the not-too-bright cult followers without even being clever—just their usual brute narcissistic selves. And it just goes on…and on…forever.
Okay, so of course that’s a huge simplification of a few recent events…but it’s not wrong is it? I’ll swear to god (whatever god humans are worshipping as the apocalypse wraps), across the last sunset, the words or symbols for gods and guns will appear…followed by “We Won.”
On the bright side: A couple of hours leaning against a tree in a West Side park with the cream of the human crop was so fine. Not so many places in the US to feel absolutely safe these days, to know we’re among friends, ‘normies,’ a bunch of intelligent, decent, wonderful-enough human beings.
Just a few pics. I’m not quite over the dark sick feeling of the past days…and on one hand, should it be ‘gotten over’? and on the other hand, yes, we need to live our lives as productively, joyfully, fully as is possible. And never give in to them. The bad guys.
Panicked after the inauguration, I read and wrote in my journal for many hours of the tropical nights at my son’s house on a small island in the South China Sea. So peaceful. My mind and soul were not at all peaceful though: picking up news of what began happening the minute Donald Trump took office and reading histories of France, UK, Germany, Japan, and US in the 1930s as catastrophe approached. I was not at peace; I was in a state of shock…I had not quite believed it would come to this.
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Now, as one of the frogs in that huge pot where the water’s getting pretty warm, I’m surprisingly calm; my life pleasant-enough. I tried pulling away from the news for awhile after the initial panic, but that doesn’t work for me. So, now I’m studying—as though for a test: world history, geography, politics, philosophy. Perhaps relearning what I thought I knew would/will offer new perspectives and this sense of confusion and dread will let up.
It’s odd though what has actually resulted from this first round of reading about the leadup to the 1940s catastrophe: World War II. For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing a deep and abiding curiosity about the historical details and timeline of the wide world of that war, rather than the war as part of bigger and smaller literary narratives. Here is what is astonishing to me: I am finding my focused reading satisfying and even calming. “Well, it doesn’t feel like very much can be done to slow the advent of another earth-shattering calamity, but for me, at least I can know and understand how disaster births and grows and explodes,” I say to myself. If only I can focus simultaneously and as easily on AI, drones, and the contemporary reincarnation of the same old bad actors, I will be one of the most laid-back folks around as we humans, and perhaps the planet, take our death lap.
So, The New York Times Complete World War II: 1939 – 1945… phew… I’m only to January 1941. Up in Koochiching County, Minnesota, I would be two-years-old in three months. My dad and two or three friends had built for us a three-room stucco house (no plumbing or electricity) on eighty acres of woods, swamp, and fields about 60 miles straight south of the Canadian border. My dad was a lumberjack, my mom a farmer. We were poor. In my mom’s diary, kept from 1938 until 1941, the war is never mentioned. Doesn’t that seem strange? They had a radio; maybe it just wasn’t the kind of thing about which one wrote in a farm diary, especially if you had a new baby. Come to think of it, most entries were about me.
A German lived just down the road, about the distance of two blocks from us. He would later shoot my mom (not fatally), but that’s another story.
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Back to the war and my reading. And fodder for the dark chuckle of the day. There must be at least two sides for every fight, right? In WWII that would be the Allies/good guys/liberal democracies (usually) and the Axis/bad guys/fascists.
Back in the Day (1939 – 1945 to be exact)
On the good side, the mostly liberal-democratic governments of:
UK/US/Soviet Union (not exactly a liberal democracy, but in a war, who’s counting)/France (until occupied)/China (fighting for its life against Japan/a mixed bag of ideologies at the time)
On the bad side, the fascist governments of:
Germany/Italy/Japan/Five other nations willingly (?) joined the Axis during the war: Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Slovakia, and Croatia.
That was then, this is now. It is clear that the world is dividing up along those good guy/bad guy lines again. How different could the sides be, one might think; only 80 years since the end of WWII. I found it gloomily interesting to list those differences as we theoretically approach another ‘falling out.’
Since I access a number of reliable news sources on a regular basis, and did a quick and dirty scroll around the good old worldwide web for additional tidbits, I believe what I’m listing below is pretty accurate.
NOW 2025 (Today to be exact)
On the good side, the liberal-democratic governments of:
Germany/Japan/France/UK/Canada/Australia
On the bad side, the leaning-or full-on fascist governments of:
US/Russia/Israel/India/China (communist, not fascist, but certainly a major example of authoritarianism)/El Salvador/Argentina/A number of countries in Europe have strong hard-right, fascist-leaning parties (in fact, Poland’s just won an election) and Asia is not without its share, Myanmar comes to mind and Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos are not exactly democracies…but everything’s relative in politics and government, right? I won’t even dip into Africa where all is never well…but South Africa, while far from pure, is a democracy, fighting hard to stay that way. Yay, South Africa (my maybe-favorite country in the world).
This post is not intended to be a scholarly take on the situation, but after reviewing it several times, it feels accurate enough to stand behind. But, what it shows is absolutely shockingly unbelievable at some level…or would have been up until a few months ago. I guess I would just say…Believe it!
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In line with my ongoing amazement of how our days are divided between flashes or even whole storm clouds of fear, and then happy examples of the good life… here’s a pretty cake I baked a few days ago for my son’s birthday. It turned out to be too dry under its surface beauty—isn’t that often the way—so my new goal in life is to continue to search for and find the perfect pineapple upside down cake recipe for my ageing kid, who needs to know his only relatively-older mother is still concerned about his well-being.
Watching the World
Mountainhead, an HBO Max film, is described by Decider as: “a Chilling and Hilarious Tech-bro Satire…” and is said by The Verge to be “a snapshot of everything that’s ridiculous and terrible about Silicon Valley’s billionaire class.” I’m trying to watch it; 15-minute segments is all I can handle at a time. For someone who’s only moderately tech/AI/that-world savvy, I’ve been inordinately fascinated by the bad tech boys. However, since the picture of them in the infamous front row seats at the infamous bad-taste celebration of the new droopy-ass sheriff in town, what was my own version of the US’s celebrity obsession has left me with an extremely queasy feeling.
Anyway, today, a beautiful rainy day, I started watching Mountainhead. Mistake. We do not get rain often enough in New Mexico for me to spend the storm crouched over the toilet bowl vomiting after each section of this movie. Slight exaggeration! I’ve thought for a while that Silicon Valley and its worldwide neighborhoods were probably going to kill the planet, so that aspect of the movie doesn’t shock me. What does…and hey, I know it’s dark comedy, satire, make-believe, okay. But from watching the characters in the film, it’s impossible not to get the feeling that Bezos, Zuckerberg, Musk, Altman, etc. are just this self-aggrandizing, greedy, thoughtless, stupidly junior-high-bully. Wow…Really? I say that a lot lately.
While I have loved every device acquired to date, for me the interaction with this brave new world really began with Facebook. We loved it, or many of us did. Keeping up with family and friends, everyday and special occasion stuff, what their kids and houses and travels looked like as time passed. We were like Sarah Wynn-Williams, author of Careless People, who so recently riled the Facebook rulers, but who way back was in love with the whole idea of what it represented. By the way, it’s a great book, and we get to follow Sarah’s almost desperate desire to work at this ‘magic kingdom’ where the world is truly connecting, and her success in finally landing a new and important position right there at the heart of things. Happy endings to such fairytales are rare and Sarah didn’t find hers at Facebook/META. She did however have an upfront and personal view as Mark Zuckerberg transformed from earnest, and sometimes appealing geek (who did, in his own way (!), want good things to happen in, to, and for the world) to front-row sycophant at a fascist-themed presidential inauguration. As a sort of aside, my slightly above and beyond interest in Silicon Valley and the tech bros may have been enhanced with a visit to Mountain View a few years ago. Cousins from Norway visiting, skeptical Bob from Albuquerque in town, granddaughter Teresa’s boyfriend in the mysterious field of ‘tech,’ and, as usual, I needed to see the geography of the story.
As time passed, Facebook became an emblem for all that was bad about social media, but meanwhile my interest in the Valley and its denizens intensified with Kara Swisher’s Burn Book: A Tech Love Story—highly recommended for anyone interested in the Silicon Valley/tech bro back story.
Like many Facebook members, I went through a period of time decrying its potential for allowing/almost-encouraging the darker side of human nature to gain an ever-firmer foothold in the site. Yes, I need to get off Facebook, I said. But my family, friends, and acquaintances live all over the country and the world. Give up being in touch with most, or vow to write a constant stream of real letters…yeah, right. So, needless to say, I am still on Facebook. And still feel, hate to admit this, a sort of skeptical love for it. I’ve learned how to curate what I see so that, by now, my interactions are either positively benign or occasionally damn near inspiring, which would be because all my ‘friends’ are politically progressive Democrats/Socialists/’normies’ at least as far as I know. Here’s an example from a couple-minute scroll—in the inspiring category, forwarded by a friend—ICE agents actually pushed back and back by a crowd of San Diegans who objected (successfully) to their fellow human beings hauled off by goons with guns as they gathered at a local restaurant for a pleasant evening meal. What’s that expression, ‘if we don’t hang together, we most assuredly will hang separately’? See. Inspiring.
Follow me through that quick scroll to see what I mean about benign: a silly Scandinavian slapstick comedy routine; Lonely Planet ad; site called Norway: Blessed with Nature; Americans Against the Republican Party poster; Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez fund-raising plea; cartoon from the New Yorker; ad for linen jackets (I ban most ads but not all); Andy Borowitz with a headline, “Mexico Renames the Liberty Bell the TACO Bell”; Surrealist art site; post from Al Franken; Feminist News; Classic literature quotes; friend forwarded ad for a planner titled: “Sorry, It’s Your Problem Now Because I’m Dead”; post from Delaware friend Tom; ditto: Minnesota friend Pat; Pluviophile site; Harvard University (graduation pictures); History and Archeology; California tourism; ProgressNow New Mexico, Michelle Obama, Coffee and Rain photography, The Atlantic, Psychotherapy.net; U.S. Democratic Socialists; SPCA International; Abandoned Houses and Unreal Places; The Dodo (animals); friends from here, there and everywhere posting news or forwarding tidbits that I enjoy…because, well, they are from friends…again… not a Nazi among them! I include these samples for the not-on-Facebook friends I have who are a little bit afraid of the site. Okay, so you get the picture. It’s actually quite calming to scroll the site in my case.
Back to why I started this ramble. Like many of us, I’m now baffled and angry at, and fearful of the “tech bros.” They’re really not a very attractive bunch. Musk, in some category(ies) of crazy, addicted, juvenile, etc.; Bezos, obsessed with boobs and showing off in his big-time mid-life crisis; and the still pale and stunned-looking Mr. Zuckerberg (even though he’s doing manly stuff!). None of them seem to have started off with bad intentions (Thiel an exception), even Musk, believe it or not (read Walter Isaacson’s bio), and at least Zuckerberg is still married to a doctor who appears quite normal. You see, I really want these guys to be better than they appear, because in spite of some awfulnesses, they are interesting. Also, they quite likely have the power to bring on the end times (not the ones in the bible; more like what Netflix comes up with from time to time), and I want to maintain enough knowledge to at least know how my killing is being orchestrated and who’s killing me. So, I guess it’s obvious I’m not getting rid of Facebook in the near future, unless Republican/MAGA/religious trash starts leaking into My Site.
Later. Getting ready to post. No, I cannot watch all of Mountainhead. Hannah Arendt’s quote about the ‘banality of evil’ keeps coming to mind. You guys are so ordinary in your selfishness. And we (and you) thought you were so smart, and in one area or the other, you were. Otherwise. Ordinary. And mean. Going to go watch serial killers on Britbox now.
Living the World
Speaking of family and friends: As you know, I make a random post now and then about life here in the poor (no one I ask can ever tell me why we’re poor since we have a lot of oil and gas/just saw a quote that we are “an energy powerhouse”) and violent land of Democratic New Mexico. Actually though, I still believe deep down that we’re a little bit enchanted as the state tag line claims. There’s so much space and absolute beauty running through our geography. And we’re kind of casual in our interactions, like we’ve all always known each other. I’m still too Minnesota to be a proper chile connoisseur but I have a red and green theme going in my home. I truly loath the fact that the sun is ever-present, but today’s cloudy so I am a happy New Mexican.
For posterity then (in my next blog book), here’s who I’ve been hanging out with this last couple of months.
Top: left to right. Patricia, Pat (the other grandma), Norah (Michele’s sister) Bottom: Birthday girl Sara and boyfriend Nick.
Old friends Willie and Bob “chewing the fat” or “shooting the bull” is what my dad would have called it.
We were in abs class together. Years of weird poses and fits of laughter and we still gather…a little older and so very much wiser. (clockwise: Beth, Bob, Ian, Dennis)
Do not all worthwhile gatherings begin and end with cake and dogs?
For now, each of my posts will be two-parters, divided between “Watching the World” (politics/history-in Words) and “Living the World” (travel, family/friends-mostly in Pictures). Sometimes the juxtaposition will be jarring. This post for instance: ‘Who’s a Nazi’, followed by a road trip to Colorado! My only explanation for incorporating the darkest of topics and one of my favorite pastimes into the same blog post is that is exactly how life splits now. While my daily news intake is overwhelmed with civilizationally-challenging actions of the most perilous ilk, at the moment, granddaughter Patricia and I are in a beautiful mountain valley, in a cozy cabin, writing and doing puzzles. Surely, one of the conundrums in any politically-fraught time is how to balance ever present visions of catastrophe with the existential pleasures and problems of each and every ‘today.’ Or can I just say ‘the whole damn world seems to be one humongous Jekyll and Hyde production?
Watching the World
This week, on the catastrophic side of things, I pondered the world of being “white.” Noah Berlatsky writes on Aaron Rupar’s Public Notice “Trump is withdrawing whiteness from white immigrants:He believes America is only for citizens who are white and whites who are citizens” (he’s making an Afrikaner exception, but that’s another story). Perhaps you, like me, were feeling rage over what is happening or could happen any moment, to ICE/Trump administration victims, including family and/or friends of most of us—but, being a little old white person, feeling guiltily safe yourself. Well forget that, no one is safe who loathes this administration. Whiteness may bestow temporary safety on me, but something ‘other’ will likely label me dangerous (age, beliefs…). So eventually it’s only the guys…at the top…with the money…and the guns who are safe.
It’s hard to know what to call Trump, don’t you think? I’ve landed on “otherist.” That way the labels racist, sexist, fascist, xenophobic, anti-intellectual, and more, are all covered. Or, just perhaps, calling a Nazi a Nazi might be easier. No, I’ll stick to otherist for now. Hardly anyone seems to be calling this administration or president ‘Nazi,’ but nearly everyone seems to agree on fascist. Not sure why if we’re following traditional descriptions. Is that N-word too harsh? Too politically dangerous? Too soon?
Fascism is based on the superiority of the state, with a centralized strong leader, and aims at unifying the nation under a totalitarian regime. Nazism is built upon the principles of fascism but adds a strong racial flavor, emphasizing Aryan supremacy and anti-Semitic ideologies. (Wikipedia)
In addition to the genocide of Europe’s Jews, the Nazis also persecuted, brutalized, or murdered additional groups of people. In some cases, they did so with the help of their allies and collaborators. Ref. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
- Black people in Germany;
- civilians (non-Jewish) accused of disobedience, resistance, or partisan activity;
- gay men, bisexual men, and other men accused of homosexuality in Germany;
- Jehovah’s Witnesses;
- people with disabilities;
- Poles;
- political opponents and dissenters in Germany;
- Roma and other people derogatorily labeled as “Gypsies”;
- social outsiders in Germany derogatorily labeled as “asocials” or “professional criminals”; and
- Soviet Prisoners of War.
*Granted, a contemporary list of ‘undesirables would be somewhat different, but you get the idea!
Living the World
What is it about cabins on a lake or a seashore or in the mountains? I’m retired, living in a pleasant, plant-filled house in a quiet community on the edge of a medium-size city—not exactly in the midst of urban noise and chaos. But here, in the San Juan Mountains near Durango, Colorado, with Patricia at the table doing a 1000-piece crossword puzzle, and me, soft jazz playing, crouched over a rustic chair doubling as writing table, it feels miles and miles from everyday life.
And have I mentioned before the delights of grandchildren? I have four, unique and interesting human beings all, with whom I am close and love dearly. Best of all, they have fine parents who raised them with close attention and practical living skills so I can claim to be a good cultural and/or political influence without assuming responsibility for any faults they may ever exhibit.
The idea behind this weekend jaunt was simply to get out on the road for a couple of days and enjoy each other’s company. Patricia and I travel well together, each with our own “projects.” Hers’ usually involve crafts, mine reading and/or writing; we’re pretty focused but there’s always room for some chat and snacks.
What makes this perfect from my point of view is that Patricia is interested in food, as in planning, shopping, preparing, and eating. Me, really only the latter, and not always even that—however this weekend I am hungry. Road tripping with Patricia is as close as I’ll ever get to a personal chef…although Scott does function in that role to a good degree when he’s visiting. So far this weekend, we’ve had burgers, beans, and macaroni salad last night and biscuits and gravy this morning. I’m told tonight is a charcuterie board. I am the cleaner-upper so not totally useless.
It does feel odd to me, this double life! Fear of catastrophe looming over a pleasantly relaxed retirement. Feeling an unthinking citizen when enjoying my existence; a failed existentialist if angry or fearful all the time.
Watching the World: Being a news junkie, but finding it unbearable to read only US sources, even the best of them, I’ve compiled a list of international news media—trustworthy, intelligent, as unbiased as I want them to be. I dip into three of them, first thing every morning, and scan the rest during the day. The important US news is there without trump trump trump every effing minute. Before the day’s over, I usually wind up with the Times and somewhere on Substack, but not for too long.
From now, most posts will include a paragraph or more overview of that day’s international coverage. There’s this amazing world out there, and quite a few of the countries comprising it are way smarter, more hopeful and certainly more interesting than the US at this point in time. Besides, it’s much more fun for a travel/news junkie to find out what the heck’s going on this way.
Seeing the World: My blog posts from last April through this May have been sent off to Pixxibook (a real place) to be turned into yet one more journal/photo album of my life: family, friends, travel, ageing, and the odd weather or food observation. I’ve been doing this since 2010 and the accumulated ‘library’ is my proof that I’ve lived—and moreover lived interestingly.
My blog writing year starts around my birthday in April. That gives me enough time, January through March, to get my act together for a year ahead.
Therefore, I declare this the first blog post of a new year. I’ve been calling the two months since my birthday a reset, like turning off a device and when turning it back on, it performs like it was supposed to all along. But language is no longer so simple. Resetting one’s computer wipes out all accumulated apps (acquired knowledge) … so in a human, I guess it would be back to birth. How about just using ‘reset’ the old-fashioned way, as in resetting an alarm clock to return to a time you wanted or needed? My defense for requiring such a reset appears to be last year’s retirement. Who knew that after only 55 years in the work force it would be so hard? Anyway…reset.
For the proper launch of my new year, a renewed commitment to reading and writing was a must. There had to be more, though, to make certain that I was still I, Marjorie Neset, after the reset. I knew what would prove to me and to you that, yes, indeed, this was really me. Planning A Very Big Trip.
So here goes. The journey to be described below is intended to happen around September 2026. I have two possible partners in this quixotic adventure. None of us are young nor wealthy, and then there’s the world-as-we-know-it falling apart, but we are all used to forcing impractical side trips (hustles?) into our lives, and finding them fascinating…and even sometimes enjoyable. Since my travel buddies are still employed, and since I’m the travel-planning obsessive, I will be spending the next few blog-posts … planning. Some of you will find it interesting, many of you won’t … but you’ll enjoy the photos coming to you in those fine September days of the future.
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If you remember, a year or so ago, I intended to train across Europe to the principalities I had yet to visit and to Switzerland. At that point I would have visited every European entity (44 of them, to be exact) recognized by the UN as a country. That plan fizzled, not sure why. Too many trains, too much lugging luggage, not enough me. Now the plan is back…the reset having made me strong and capable once again.
You’ve met my fellow travelers before, Celia of Greenlandic and African fame; Tom of hanging out in Northern New Mexico infamy. They don’t know each other yet, but both love cats, meeting new people, and they possess equally eccentric senses of humor. They will like each other better than they like me.
There are, as with any journey, numerous considerations including time, money, physical fitness, mental wherewithal, and personal interests. We’ll wrestle with those later. For now, just where to go and how to get there.
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Here are our desired destinations/routes. As stated earlier: me and the principalities, Switzerland and, always, Paris (and perhaps the cousins in Norway at the tail end of it all). Celia wants to go to Spain, Portugal, Prague, and on a river cruise. Tom’s desires include Florence, Venice, a train ride through Switzerland, and Paris. Surprisingly, this combination of travel wants meshes well.
See map. Watch me get all of our desired destinations into the proposed itinerary.
- We fly into Lisbon.
- Wend our way to Barcelona.
- Into Andorra (Principality #1)
- Across the South of France.
- Down west coast of Italy, detour inland a short way to Florence.
- On down to tip of Italy and ferry to Malta (Principality #2).
- Up east coast to San Marino Principality #3).
- Continue north to Venice.
- Train through Switzerland.
- Small side trip to Liechtenstein (Principality #4).
- Northeast to Prague.
- Straight west to Paris.
Well well well! Doable. Assuming we get and stay extremely healthy until September 2026; plan on cheap hotels, and minus-star restaurants; take an absolute minimum of baggage—For me that means only my phone, kindle, and a notebook. Few clothes. Lots of sink washing.
How much time abroad, probably different for each of us. We have our own distinct pursuits: Tom castles and all things history; Celia adventure and learning stuff; me contemporary art and historic sites of death and destruction and oddities. Such an exploration it might be!
My afternoon of figuring out how to mix train, buses, and rivers to best and most economically accomplish the above travel lies ahead.
You know something…after all these years, when I’m having this much fun with a project or activity and breaktime rolls around…I still want to go sit on the back patio with a cigarette…and ideally a cup of coffee or a beer. Oh well, still got the coffee and the patio.
By Manila time both Scott and I were running out of steam. I kept making plans for the last few days that involved getting out of town, finally realizing there were plenty of small adventures to pursue right there near our hotel after two months of Doing a Lot of Stuff! My favorite jaunt was to Chinatown, not sure why, maybe the weird sweets! Manila’s a tough city in many ways, and it’s difficult to find its heart; the old colonial area being somewhat bedraggled. It’s also a city of malls. Gigantic malls. Upscale malls. Regular people malls. Manila represents everything good, bad, and indifferent that centuries of Spanish rule (much of it managed by Catholic priests), then United States colonization (managed by the military and the capitalists), with a short Japanese interruption, can do to a country comprised of thousands of remote islands, and, in some ways overlooked by the major powers of Asia. But here it is. A Manila photo album. The last stop of my first big trip of 2025. The other big trips of 2025 being Grand Rapids, Minnesota and Austin, Texas. And Durango. But 2026, different story. Out of travel words now.
Siem Reap didn’t have the heavy presence of the Khmer Rouge so it was easier to forget how brutal any powerful ruling entity from the “boss” of a family to the government of a powerful nation can be. We could focus on Angkor Wat and a nice meal or two. Scott rented a bike and took a long dawn ride about Angkor Wat which he highly recommends. His photos, you’ll see, are quite special. We did visit the Landmines center and see a demonstration of the bomb-sniffing rats. It was sobering, especially if one started to think about all of the bombs and landmines every country in the world (almost) has managed to deposit on their “enemies'” territories. We traveled back and forth from Phnom Penh by bus, comfortable enough, scenery flat lands, small strips of stores and lots of temples and buddhas scattered about.
Please view these next three posts on a laptop or computer…photos deserve more than your phone.
My February time in Cambodia and the Philippines seems so very long ago and far away. I wasn’t quite my normal travel self, but my equally travel-obsessed son Scott was with me so it all turned out quite splendidly. What follows are three photo album posts: Phnom Penh, Siem Reap, and Manila (Philippines). Not many words, just interesting images. I read over my journal notes from that time to see if there might be something important to share. Turns out I was still experiencing post election, inauguration, traumatic stress symptoms (I say that seriously–no joking left for what’s happening). Now, I’m able to step back, for at least part of everyday…and voila, here’s Phnom Penh.
This post covers the delights of Phnom Penh, but also the sites of the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum and the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center. Both sites display the horrors of Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge which conducted a genocide against Cambodians with an education and/or positions of importance for the latter half of the 70s. The rest of the world did little to nothing to stop the slaughter, and in fact the Khmer Rouge retained a role in the government of Cambodia even after its formal overthrow by Vietnamese troops in 1979. Pol Pot’s regime was as brutal as any government program that has ever existed.
