52 Places to Go in 2020? Only 52?

I just scrolled through the New York Times' 52 Places to Go in 2020, including Japan, Bolivia, Kenya and Greenland, in addition to a few European standbys (Paris; Krakow; Transylvania; Asturias).

Maybe I'm tired; I know I'm older than I used to be, but I wasn't ready to be overwhelmed by a pervasive melancholy. Since I was a little kid teaching myself to read by looking at encyclopedias, I've seen photos of faraway places and wanted to go there. My entire adult life has been calculated to scratch the Europe itch.

People always want to know what you do, as though one's job corresponds with what he or she is as a human. At heart, whether or not I've ever made money from them, I'm a writer, a traveler and a beer drinker.

Put those on my tombstone.

Time marches on, and the opportunities gradually atrophy. I've been very fortunate; I've also made a lot of my own breaks, and have marvelous memories galore. However, the odds are good that the returns will diminish from here; there'll be fewer opportunities to roam as age and decrepitude intrude.

If we could leave tomorrow and spend a month in Sicily ...

 

Changing times, or thinking back to one fine day in 2015 at a parade party down the street.

Back in 1991 when I was teaching English in Kosice (then Czechoslovakia, subsequently Slovakia) I accompanied my boss the hospital administrator to Bratislava; it was something like a five-hour drive each way so he could attend an hour-long meeting. Such was life during pre-internet, post-communism.

I wandered around the future capital city and later met him (and his driver) to eat a meal before departing for the long journey home. The venue was a fantastic old-school beer hall called Mammut (sic -- "Mammoth"), which had been repurposed from use as a malthouse.

The beer hall had multiple levels, like mezzanines clustered around a central open space, with beer from several breweries pouring alongside hearty food. It was very Central European.

I liked it so much that while passing through Bratislava a few years later, I made a time-consuming detour just to go have a beer there. Much to my surprise and disappointment, the beer hall had been transformed into a plasticized modern eatery like a sports bar, with only one brewery's beers on tap and a gaudy plastic casino upstairs.

It was absolutely clear to me that new capitalist owners could do as they pleased with the structure. Their marketplace was local, not a lone traveler from afar, and yet it was depressing all the same.

Humor me and listen to a song from many years later.

A couple of days ago I recalled the scene in the photo at the top of this page. It's the residence of Matt and Brook Brewer, seven houses down from our home, with the date being Harvest Homecoming parade Saturday in 2015.

The late Matt Brewer is standing front left, brandishing a beer. Matt always will be remembered as the city's pre-eminent skateboard dude, and he was a laid-back, good-natured, sweetheart of a guy who died eight months ago after being stuck by a driver only a block from the residence pictured here.

As is customary in America, the driver was not charged with anything.

I first met Matt a long time ago when he took the non-credit IUS beer course that I used to teach. The Brewers arrived down the street in 2013, and then I got to know Matt far better.

Matt was fairly apolitical in the beginning, and his wife Brook surely paid closer attention to these goings-on, but the more we talked, the more interested he became. He let me get to him. Instead of asking what new beer to try, he started making inquiries about local politics.

And, to put it succinctly, Matt was no fan of the incumbent mayor. While remaining far too nice of a guy to address the situation in the rollicking polemical style I typically deploy, he left no doubt as to his feelings. He regarded Jeff Gahan as a joke -- and this helps contextualize the photo.

I was running for mayor in 2015, Matt and Brook were supporters, and coincidentally I'd been precluded from walking in the parade because the parade rules were and are, well, plain stupid.

Look, kids, it's the walkability platform candidate, forced to ride in a car (or push a bicycle without mounting it).

Matt and Brook volunteered to post the Baylor pirate banner and wave some signs around as the parade passed. Eventually I walked down and had a beer with them, and it was a fine day all around.

Afterward Diana and I commented about how fun we'd have during many years to come being their neighbors.

I never wanted it to change, and it did anyway. Now it's 2019. Matt's gone, and their house changed hands earlier this month. Naturally I don't begrudge Brook for selling and moving, and wish the very best to her. She's tops.

I also sincerely and heartily welcome the buyers, our new neighbors seven houses west. Seemingly their first official act was to erect a large Gahan sign in the front yard -- and, of course, that's their absolute right. After all, I have a same-sized David White sign out front in our yard. Political signs are a temporary, seasonal kind of thing, and that's that.

It isn't anger or petulance I'm feeling today, but something akin to discomfort. It's probably another bout of sadness and sorrow at Matt's passing, admittedly accompanied by a measure of enduring frustration at the way car-centrism in America is de facto imperialism, enabling one privileged class of humanity to trample the rights of another segment, as all the while the political class snoozes -- when not self-monetizing from those corporations that benefit the most from car-centrism.

It's merely garden-variety melancholy on an overcast day, thinking back to that awesome autumn Saturday and beers with the Brewers, who wanted to even the playing field by displaying my banner when the parade was being recalcitrant in its officiousness.

As for change, it isn't just a slogan. Change is inevitable. Change often is good. My dispirited mood will change soon enough, and the change will be conducive. I may even accomplish something, for a change.

But I miss you, Matt. You will not be forgotten.

Listening to Morrissey with red wine -- again. Now for the Mozz book.

When I posted this photo on Facebook a couple weeks back and suggested that Nadia had ignored my warnings and insisted on listening to Morrissey while drinking red wine, it got rave reviews.

It's been a good year for aging Smiths fans. First, an excellent solo album by Johnny Marr. Now, a Mozz autobiography in time for the holidaze.

Autobiography by Morrissey – review, by Terry Eagleton (Guardian)

The celebrated literary critic judges Mozzer's book to be superb: he is so devastatingly articulate he could win the Booker

... Morrissey despises most of the people he meets, often with excellent reason. He is scurrilous, withdrawn and disdainful, an odd mixture of shyness and vitriol. The dreamy, heart-throbbish photo on the cover of the book, the nose rakishly tilted above the Cupid's-bow lips, belies what a mean old bastard he is.

Anonymous: "Frankly, Roger Baylor knows precious little about teachers or the union."

Forget for a moment the persistent dysfunction perpetuated by blogside anonymity; we've beaten that horse to death, and I'm bored with being proven right, again and again.

Rather, I'm more than happy this time to offer an anonymous critic a broader soapbox than that offered at Mrs. Baird's blog. While nameless, the broadside is well written and evidence of an ability exceeding that of the norm. I don't agree with the opinion stated, but competence should be rewarded every now and then, even when masked.

Speaking for myself: I'm up for beers (or coffee) and conversation any time, and I can't remember an occasion when I've turned down a request to chat about this or any other issue.

As an aside, many times lately it has been my wish that State Representative Ed Clere, with whom I'd gotten along perfectly well in the past, would have another such reasoned conversation with me about the imminent threat of bridge tolls (my particular hot button interest as a small businessman), but as hard as it is for my bedazzled, confused detractors to admit, the truth remains this:

Ed struck first, muzzled me, and suspended diplomatic relations -- not the other way around. I merely asked a question. His was a ham-fisted tactic that wasn't necessary, one surely calculated to create the rift that has emerged, but so it goes. Perhaps I'm being useful as a straw man. If so, I'm flattered beyond measure, although I'd settle for garden variety pain in the ass, any day.

We're all adults, and some times we're pawns in games far larger than our own mundane, everyday concerns. So it seems to be with a $4 billion bridges boondoggle. We're simply not supposed to resist, and not supposed to question our "betters" on this. However, in my world, when my "betters" won't answer questions, they've already discredited themselves.

My only obligation it to shine as much light in their eyes as I can muster -- openly, without subterfuge, sans aliases.

Verily, as it pertains to my erstwhile friend, it's never too late to start over again, both in politics and in life. Nixon went to China, after all. Lamentably, the Publican's breath is not being held, and the prospect of a long, grim Cold War makes me sadder than my exaggerated reputation suggests I'm capable of feeling. So much for press clippings.

The floor's yours, anonymous. My mother was a teacher for 30 years, and I know how difficult it can be.

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Anonymous has left a new comment on the post ""POP' GO THE BAD GUYS":

Shirley, I'd like to thank you for your posts too. They are timely and include everything important to know.

I'd also like to thank you for allowing anonymous comments. Because you allow this, and because I know Roger Baylor reads this, I'm going to comment on HIS blog here.

I can't put my name down because I am a public school teacher and I belong to the union. I do not need people picking on me at school (not many would, but some people with the power would find some way to punish me). Also, I don't want my name to become associated with union matters. I teach students. They do not need to know how frustrating it is for me, personally, in my job. It is only helpful for them to know that teachers struggle with these things.

Roger Baylor rants about Ed Clere DAILY. I'm really sick of it. People point this out to me at work--teachers have been onto the union's and the Democrat party's efforts to claim that Ed Clere is against them. The union has softened on this, thank goodness.

Roger Baylor and his friend Jeff Gillenwater have not. They post the most caustic stuff about Ed Clere every day and many teachers are getting VERY angry about it. Frankly, Roger Baylor knows precious little about teachers or the union.

I am a public school teacher AND union member. For the record, neither I nor at least 40 or so of my colleagues that I've talked with about this have EVER heard Ed Clere say ANYTHING against the union. Not a single thing. And we've talked with Rep. Clere MANY times about a variety of issues.

Why am I saying this? Because of a message one of my fellow teachers sent me with a link to Baylor's blog. Here's what Jeff Gillenwater wrote:

"Though it's become commonplace for the likes of State Representative Ed Clere and State Education Superintendent Tony Bennett to blast teachers unions for exhibiting behavior strikingly similar to their own..."

In the first place, Ed Clere doesn't ever act like the union. In the second place, Ed Clere has NEVER, NOT ONCE blasted the union. Even when they treated him like trash.

We all knew that the only reason they supported Gibson is that Gibson knows practically nothing about education (I heard about the interview), and that they thought he'd be a "yes man" for what they want. That's all.

THIS is why we voted for Ed Clere. We KNOW he'll do whatever's right, even if it's painful sometimes, for the greater good. And it's about time someone did.

The friend who sent me that blog link was looking for a teacher brave enough to put name to paper and write to the Tribune. I'm afraid I cannot. But I wanted to say somewhere that we're sick and tired of reading Baylor's tirades against Ed Clere, a man who is no coward and who will do his best for the people whether it's the teachers union or any other issue.