The Writer's Life 6/15 - Heavy

Conservative pundit Jonathan Podhoretz has lamented the Trump presidency since election night, which is ironic given that Trump has so far governed more conservatively than anyone since Ronald Reagan. Anyway, in his op-ed piece in today's NY Post, he used the term "Deep State" to describe the actions of certain execs at the FBI, particularly focusing on Peter Strzok. If he'd used the term previously, he'd done it with skepticism. He now considers what went down as world changing. I'll believe that when I see it. The swamp will circle the wagons to protect itself.

The first round of the U.S. Open is in the books and the winner is Long Island's Shinnecock golf course. Players struggled in the stiff wind that has been so refreshing in Brooklyn. Only four broke par. Many big names are in jeopardy of missing the cut. I love it when the course is merciless. It should be different from other tournaments were scores are well below par. This is for the national championship.

From Yahoo's Odd News, in my own words: A family heirloom has gone missing in Massachusetts. New tenants of an apartment assumed the frame of an old brass bed had been left as trash and put it curbside. The owner freaked and plastered the neighborhood with signs asking for its return, saying: "My mother will kill me." His mom explained the bed was one of the few items her grandmother had to leave to her 17 grandchildren.

I dreamed I had the measles and that it made me too weak to work. In actuality, I had it when I was in fifth grade, during the last two weeks of the school year. The teacher, Mrs. Sarno, felt so sorry for me she inflated my grades. It was the best report card I ever had. Meanwhile, I didn't feel at all sick. I was so restless I was jumping up and down on the mattress as if it were a trampoline - to the consternation of my poor mom. What triggered the dream? I'd guess it's the worry that I've taken on more books at my sidewalk shop than a 68-year-old guy should be handling. Fortunately, the car is in an ideal position and the weather has been cool. I barely broke a sweat this week. Most of the weight comes from art pictorials, which I placed in a large box I took out to the old Hyundai just before I went on my morning walk. It's heavy. I'm going to have to be very careful not to injure my back.

As I expected, the pictorials attracted attention. My thanks to the woman who bought six, and to Ira, who purchased who purchased one on Fabergé products and bios of Charles Laughton, Red Skelton and George Burns, and a collection of pieces on Hollywood by Garson Kanin; and to Gary, who selected a pictorial published by the Uffizi gallery in Italy, and a bio of Lilian Gish; and to the young woman who snapped up a pictorial on Picasso; and to the elderly woman who donated two works each of fiction and non. Despite all the sales of the pictorials, the box is still heavy.

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