Good Days and Bad Days

What lis the evolutionary value of the black fly, sometimes known as the state bird of Maine? The only real justification for its existence is its ability to keep people humble.  For example, I was feeling pretty pleased with our progress on the interior of the new barn.  We had a lovely visit to Bar Harbor to travel the Ocean Drive and buy some sturdy and healthy plants at Plants Unlimited in Trenton. While planting said plants the next day, I noticed something gold glinting among the pebbles behind one of the raised beds.  I was my great-grandmother's gold wedding ring that I have worn on my little finger (she was a tiny woman, apparently) since 2013.  It disappeared last summer and I was delighted to have it again. I was feeling fortunate and self-satisfied. Things were going my way.

Enter the black fly. I knew that it was the season for the little biters to do their worst, but we don't have them at our place on the bay.  Black flies prefer fresh running water and don't do well in the constant breeze around our cottage. So despite all my knowledge, I didn't think of the potential danger as we set off for the farmer's market in Dennysville, the small town where great-grandmother wore that ring.  Dennysville is located on a tidal river with many fresh-water streams running down the hillsides. The farmer's market is located about 50 feet from one of those streams.  

When we got out of the car, things weren't too bad.  We were greeted by a few insects, but they seemed typical for the first days of June. But the longer we stayed, the more the little buggers swarmed.  Around me.  Obviously the word had gone out that a hyper-sensitive visitor was in the house, or in this case, the gravel parking lot. By the time we left with fresh eggs and various baked goods, I was waving my arms and swatting. The flies just laughed and gathered for another attack run. 

With the aid of the cottage's bathroom mirror, I counted seven huge bites on my face and neck, and a smaller one on a forearm.  One of the seven was on an eyelid that is now mostly closed.  Our errands today include a trip to a pharmacy to get some anti-histamine. Things are no longer going my way.

Yet, last night as I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself, I indulged in a little self-congratulation. What if we had located in Dennysville on the river rather than on Cobscook Bay? I would now be constantly whining about black flies. The fact that black flies didn't figure into our calculations at the time doesn't matter.  We inadvertently managed to avoid them.  Knowing that allows me to temper my new-found humility with bit of gratitude for the role of luck in one's life. 

 

Outside Agitators?

The arrest records released so far for Minneapolis and St Paul do not bear out the “outside agitator” claims of the Minnesota governor or the US attorney general.  Repeating this theme demeans the very real and profound issues that the murder of George Floyd revealed. Black people in the United States and in Minneapolis are still second-class citizens, at least when it comes to policing. When African Americans and their allies protest this fact, white elected leaders try to take the sting out of these claims by crying, “outside agitators.” When you blame someone else, you remove your own responsibility for the problem and minimize the suffering and justifiable rage that erupts. It is remarkably convenient.
 

The “outside agitators” theme has a long and ignoble history in the United States. Mayor Yorty of LA said about Watts in 1965, “The communists are in that area, and they are working all the time.” Mayor Addonizzio of Newark said that the 1967 uprising was caused by “an organization of people who hate America.”  Today, Gov Walz blames white supremacists and drug cartels; US Attorney General Barr and President Trump blame Antifa and radical anarchists. These politicians’ statements are not supported by evidence, then or now. 

After the unrest in the 1960s, the National Advisory Committee on Civil Disorders (“Kerner Commission") interviewed people in LA, Newark, Detroit, Milwaukee and elsewhere. They found that there were no “outside agitators,” whether communists or America-haters. Today, Gov. Walz and others say that “intel” reveals the presence of outside agitators. He cannot point to any arrest records that confirm his statements.  To his credit, Mayor Melvin Carter of St Paul retracted his statement that “outsiders” were responsible for looting in his city.  As historians, we want to see documents and data, not anecdotal evidence. “Intel?” Please. 

One elected official in Minneapolis who seems close to getting it right is Jeremiah Ellison, Mpls Council Member for the Fifth Ward. Last night, he said that the difference between a daytime protester and a nighttime curfew violator, is “mushy.” But even that does not seem to cover it. People who are gassed, shot at with rubber or real bullets, and beaten, are enraged. They are angry that their pain is swept under the rug and covered up. When we say that the actions that arise from this rage are caused by “outside agitators,” we are minimizing the suffering and humiliation that Black Americans experience every day from policing. Let’s not be distracted by unfounded claims of “outside agitators.” Instead, let’s fix the way the Twin Cities are policed. Wake up, Twin Cities!

Jim Oberly and Louise Merriam

Journal of the Plague Year 5-18-2020: Books Do Furnish a Room (Or Not)

Up at the crack of dawn (or at least before 7 am) to visit Trader Joe’s for the geezer hour.   Lots of cheery young employees wearing masks and taking care of the old folks who crave Joe’s frozen appetizers and other good stuff.   Every customer seemed to fit the over-65 criterion.  Is this our future?

And that is not the only event of the day.  We have an online literary gathering tonight.  In previous years, the prose and poetry were accompanied by wine and goodies.  This year, it is strictly BYO wine.  And I don’t have to get dressed (ladies, you know what I mean). 

Retiree shopping and virtual poetry salons do not take that much time, leaving opportunity for decluttering.  We have gone beyond closet cleaning and are now focusing on books.  A forty-year career in academic social sciences results in lots of books. Sadly, books do not have the utility or resale value they once did.  Hubby tried giving them to his university library, but they did not want old books. He tried taking them to a used book dealer, who gave him $50.00 store credit for a few boxes. He tried Half Price Books, which gave him even less.  So, he turned to me, a one-time rare books librarian whose first job out of library school was with a used book dealer. We worked out a way to reduce his library to a manageable size. 

First, we agreed that if he agreed to get rid of a volume he would accept that it might be recycled. Painful. Second, he would not keep books with library stickers and markings. Easy. Third, he would not keep paperbacks with underlining, highlighter, or cigarette burns. Fourth, he would not keep books in generally poor condition.  I estimate that about one third of the collection falls in these categories.  They will either go in the recycling bin or find new life in the Little Free Libraries around town. 

I estimate that hubby will want to keep one third of the remaining volumes.  That means that I will need to figure out how to dispose of the final third. Because we cannot overwhelm the recycling bin, this will be a long-term project. The way things are going, this project will have the joint benefit of keeping me busy while reducing the weight load of his second-floor library. It’s all good.