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.
***
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.
***
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!
***
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.
***
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.
***
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.
January/February 2025. The Tropics. Great place to spend some winter…even if you’re from a too-sunny/warm climate already. Palm trees, blue skies and lots of ocean, mangoes, genocide museums, skyscrapers, lots of rice, chickens in the yard, islands—so many islands, history of American colonization and bombs, ancient temples: blackened by time and quietly accepting a world of visitors into their lush jungle home. At a Big Event. With your Favorite People.
So, there I was. And this post is kinda ‘all about me.’ Sorry. But this way I won’t have to talk about old-age At All next year! So, my two-month sojourn beginning with pageantry and ending with the solemn realization I had weathered some kind of transition to a next stage of life (which, as the saying goes—is better than the alternative).
I’ve already written and offered up several photo albums of the first six weeks of my splendid Asian winter, and am about to add one or two final ones. It’ll be fun…you’ll see.
With these posts, I’m wrapping an April ‘24 – May ‘25 blog-book, as well as, I hope, moving on to a new fine-and-dandy phase of the remaining “golden” years of this life. To be spent in my rapidly metamorphosing-to-fascist country, which promises to be a fascinating finale to life.
The next four paragraphs are about traveling while old—because it influences everything else on the trip…and, indeed, the rest of my life. If old age is not of particular interest to you right now (it wasn’t interesting to me until I was about 75), you may skip the next three paragraphs.
Here goes: I had a major health episode the first week in the Philippines, the week of the absolutely gorgeous wedding festivities. It wasn’t life-threatening; I attended many of the activities, and didn’t embarrass myself or, hopefully, anyone else. It began almost upon arrival and was connected to long-term gastro issues…which had never been quite this debilitating before. While emanating from my mid-section and effecting every part of my body, again, I was never in dire physical danger—mentally, well that’s a different story.
It is where and when I lost confidence in my ability to handle almost any situation that might ever arise. In my numerous homes, jobs, and travels, this may be the first time I absolutely did not know what to do and lost the capacity to figure it out. There are many reasons for that, none really understandable, except that I suddenly believed myself Old and Incapable. A mental health crisis which, had it all ended there, I wouldn’t mention now. I will describe it as transitioning from old to old-old to what use to be called: older-than-sin, older-than-the-hills, older-than-god…in other words ‘about done for’ as my dad would have said.
I have a friend, even older than me, who just gets on with her life as briskly as possible every day; busy, engaged, never whining or even mentioning there’s a problem with this time of life. She is obviously a saint.
For me it is a big challenge, but, with Tasia as my guru, my attitude will surely improve. Starting with reading and reading and reading—which has always been a life-affirming and enriching pastime; blogging (posting-as-therapy among other purposes!); chatting with my docs and going off all medications (not that I had that many) for a while; eating more and better with the hope that good food, gummies, and new plants (almost as important for mental health as a wall of books) will cure what ails me. Oh yeah, to top it all off, back to the gym (harder to do with arthritis and no pain meds though). Most of all, I’m trying to separate the Old-Frail-Me part of this mental slump from the perfectly natural anxiety, dread, and disgust over the United States of America’s present Political Regime.
There, I said it. I debated opening my pretty and final Asian travel posts with a personal whine. Since I intend to travel more and whine more through the remaining “winters of [my] life”—a much more appropriate phrase than “golden years”—I decided to get this story-rant over with now. It’s all uphill from here…. Right? No? Be quiet.
Once upon a time…in a lush island kingdom far far away, a princess married her prince, and with their cheering subjects’ approval and the encouragement of a herd of barking seals, they rode away on prancing white ponies accompanied by a most winsome gang of elves and gnomes and leprechauns and unicorns and dwarfs and mermaids and fairies, and one or two goblins and two trolls. They galloped over land and sea and more land to the benighted kingdom of Austin, Texas where, in spite of the danger, a Democratic mayor kept them safe from all harm. It was a beautiful thing…except for the goblins. (There was also some concern about the trolls, but they were Norwegian, and the feeling was that they would foreswear dirty tricks for one of their own [Norwegian, not troll])
In January 2025, my granddaughter Teresa married her love Jon on a tiny island near a small island (Busuanga) only a short distance off a bigger island in a land called the Philippine Islands. Teresa’s mom is a proud Filipina, and it was an enormous source of pride for her, and joy for both her and Teresa, who has spent many happy times over the years on Busuanga where her mom grew up. Teresa the traveler did like the idea of a destination wedding, but only if the destination had meaning: Busuanga fit the bill.
So, while all the parties, celebratory events, and numerous hang-out-and-have-fun activities occurred in various Busuanga locations, the critical “I pronounce you…” moments took place on a tiny bit of land comprised only of cooling breezes, soft white sand, and swaying palms, surrounded by the bluest of seas.
Eighty of T & J’s family members and friends flew halfway around the world to join the party and witness the big moment. And what a spectacular bunch we were. Handsome middle-agers, stunning young people, a few cute kids…and a token little old lady.
Pictures will mostly replace the hundreds of other adjectives I’m tempted to include. I do feel compelled, however, to attempt a description of what I personally considered the most spectacular moment of all.
Teresa, the beautiful bride arrived on the wedding island by speedboat She was cleverly concealed in a black cloak until she reached the head of the ‘aisle,’ down which she walked to join the groom. It was brilliant…. (I’m sure she has her own story of how this was all planned and orchestrated…but I haven’t heard it, and I want to share my perception anyway.)
I must say, while I’m proud of Teresa for many things, this to me was a unique glimpse of her not always on display; the result of her gentle but slightly wicked sense of humor and her mastery of dramatic understatement, surely fostered by years of the Magic Kingdom, Phantom of the Opera, the Paris Olympics, and, I like to think, nurtured by the various dance/theatre events she’s shared with me over the years. She made the best use of saying her marriage vows on that sandy smidgeon of her island birthright with a mysterious opening, dramatically reintroducing herself to her love, along with the big reveal of her personally designed, demurely and seductively glamorous wedding dress, as his romantically wedded wife.
What loyal and proud families and fine friends flew all the way over the ocean to celebrate Teresa and Jon, how beautiful the faces and outfits and flowers and joy expressed. Jon’s dad offered a speech in his role as officiant that seemed a perfect expression of what a marriage represents—laden with family histories, personal stories about the couple that were real and moving without being overly-sentimental, and just the right amount of wise words, laughter, and a few tears. We were all proud of and honored to know Teresa and Jon…and to be on an island in the sun while our American world still seemed somewhat solid.(You’ve just seen a small sampling of the wedding photos courtesy of Legion Rules Photography/Philippines). The remainder of the photos are mine.
Jaya, Evelyn, Sara, me.
We are the lucky ones.
How often do you hear old people say that?
But hey, it’s all in the timing, isn’t it?
We had the good fortune to live our adult lives, mostly to completion, in a relatively peaceful and prosperous part of the world. Of course, if we were members of the favored race and favored gender in these parts, we were even luckier, but that’s another less positive story.
In my birth year of 1939, WWII officially began. A worldwide catastrophe, devasting a big swath of the globe by the time fighting came to an end in 1945. While the world has always been beset with numerous variations of death and destruction, nothing of that magnitude has happened since. From 1945 to 2025, North America, Western Europe, Australia/New Zealand, and scattered regions elsewhere have offered many of their citizens lives with a goodly measure of security and opportunity.
And, even though all residents of said countries weren’t included, it often seemed that sincere efforts were being made to involve more and more of us in the better times to come as liberal democracies proliferated.
I, an old white woman, have witnessed amazing changes in the past eight decades…changes that enabled me as a single woman to raise two children; have interesting and worthwhile employment for which I was adequately paid; and travel the world. Without financial backing, and only acquiring college degrees as I went along, mine is a small, but inspiring story of what has become commonly possible for women during lifetimes lived between catastrophes.
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What catastrophes you ask?
I’ve already mentioned my life began the same year WWII (catastrophe #1) was declared.
I believe the somewhat benevolent world in which I’ve lived is approaching its end, and another catastrophe of worldwide apocalyptic proportions looms. A potential cataclysm of murder, plunder, destitution, and disease…with my country leading the charge. Catastrophe #2.
Really? Who said that? Me? Did I just write that?
OMG Marjorie, reading it over, isn’t that statement just a little over the top? Have I become a full-fledged doomsayer? Before the November election, even shortly afterward, that prediction would still have seemed hysterical to me. But, as it became clear that our new leaders are talking pure fascism, generally defined as a populist political philosophy, movement, or regime that exalts nation and often race above the individual, that is associated with a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, and that is characterized by severe economic and social regimentation and by forcible suppression of opposition. And, who among these new leaders even bothers to deny the fascism label?
As November/December 2024 turned to January 2025, like so many of us, I was living in a state of deep anxiety, not quite out and out heart-pounding fear…yet. It was surely the right time to compile a stable of contemporary journalists/truthtellers on which I could rely, but with the inauguration and terrifying blather immediately radiating from Washington, what can only be labeled visceral fear set in, and for lack of any direct action to take, it seemed a good time to revisit world history. I had new questions—to which I had only half-remembered answers—and those not reassuring. Has there ever been another time like right now in the modern world? Why does it seem so very dark and dangerous…apocalyptic even? How did the world, the US come to be this way?
It was logical to take a historical dive into the last time fascists gained full-on elected government power…to see what happened. My initial sources were/are The Dark Valley: A Panorama of the 1930s by Piers Brendon and 1938: A People’s History of the Coming of the Second World War by Frederick Taylor. What happened was WWII….
It turns out there are so many similarities between the decades leading up to, and then the actual years of 1938/39 and right now–in the 2020s. Capitalism ever more greed-driven, resulting in inequalities expanding exponentially; institutions increasingly dysfunctional, with good leadership being a rarity; handy scapegoats—those “others” were Jews, anyone not of pure Germanic blood, intellectuals, and of ocurse, truthtellers in the 1930s; now the “others” are apparently anyone not white, religious, and, again, with fascist leanings. One can almost hear Hitler’s words, “…if a people is to become free, it needs pride and will-power, defiance, hate, hate and once again hate.” (p. 34 in Dark Valley) emanating from the oval office today. Hate, always popular. Believe it or not, misinformation was just as popular preceding WWII, as it is now in the 2020s, proving that if the means to communicate wasn’t quite up to today’s speed and breadth, the hate was just as plentiful in both eras.
Germans, in general, were still feeling the effects of their defeat in WWI; there was latent resentment for a demagogue to build upon. While that’s not exactly comparable to the United States today, there’s frustration aplenty for a wannabe dictator to build upon here and now. And throughout history, they always show up. Somebody to the rescue. A Hitler, a Mussolini, a Putin, a Trump.
Hey, ageing friends. We really have been so lucky. Probably, out of the entire human race, there haven’t been so very many millions who have had whole lifetimes of the chance to pursue happiness! We should probably do whatever we can to give our kids a shot at it, right?
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Several people of consequence are given credit for a variation of the phrase “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” But, still, throughout the land, football coaches are teaching the few remaining history classes, and college freshmen are told to avoid the humanities—no money there. We are so dumb about so much.
Speaking of books. Read. Do what I’m trying to do…tear myself away, at least part of the time, from the plethora of excellent journalism available online…read books. Fiction, history, all of it. Without which, can we really be the kind of informed, smart, educated, wise people that can even begin to get us out of this global mess?
