The weather doesn't help. San Francisco is renowned for its non-summers. And I suppose this is really the stuff of Mark Twain, unaltered in 150 years of writing and personal accounts. But it doesn't feel that way. It feels grim. The nation could by all reports get itself out of a downward virus spiral within a month of disciplined measures. Two months to really change course. This, everyone knows, isn't going to happen anytime soon. But it's the reason that dawns afresh each day, depressing afresh…to Read more [...]

Day of the Dread. Mine was yesterday, and despite the nominal similarity to Mexico's doubtless superior version, no one was celebrating but me. I had the feeling all Sunday that something horrible would happen. To me, to my body in particular. Dread, I am learning, has a power all its own. It is among those experiences somewhat glibly labeled as posttraumatic.  Observations that are provided on background only, as any good reporter would understand…but in no way serve to accurately Read more [...]

It involves long hours in the greenhouse, a glassy enclosure I have dubbed "the conservatory." It means breathing deeply. It means taking care to limit news after midafternoon. It means a constant background level of anxiety, only occasionally alleviated, exact source and duration unclear. It's the coronavirus experience, of course…coupled with the America of the Trump era. The latter was summed up this week by a New York Times columnist: like being on a long car ride with a drunk at the wheel. Read more [...]

Tony was on his way out the door, our door because he comes to our home. A Rolfer and almost qualified osteopath, he has been treating me for, gosh, soon it will be almost 10 years. Good thing about Tony. With all my neuromuscular challenges, I have managed to assemble an informal team of healers. The cast has shifted over the years, of course. But Tony is among the long-running stars. Healing, it turns out, is just that. Medicine is something else. Rolfing and osteopathy are something else. Read more [...]

George Packer, one of America's greatest journalists, sent me off to sleep last night… and I wasn't ready. A staff writer for the Atlantic, he had done a beautifully concise and articulated feature on the staggering destruction done to our federal agencies under Trump. Few things can be more disquieting than this, the dismantling of a social structure.  It has been said before, tirelessly. But there are legions of people who devote themselves to government service. They keep track of air Read more [...]

My mood swings do surprise me these days. But I think it's like wandering down a darkened hallway, seeing something moving and realizing it's your reflection in a wall mirror. This has always been happening. Now in my period of at-home constancy, it has become more apparent. And what a ride it is. I woke up this morning feeling quite rested. Got up and began to feel a certain dread. Another day of queasiness. As though something bad was about to happen. Which it was. Something bad is always about Read more [...]