HUNGRY GERALD

A few days back (June 25) marked the 26-year anniversary of HG being free of the pernicious nicotine addiction. Yes, it is an addiction, not a habit. And, an addiction that is very, very hard to end. Beloved SJ has tried, with varying degrees of success, to end his addiction. Very tough. Especially in Tokyo where SJ and family now live. From all reports, the city is filled with cigarette smokers. During HG’s half century smoking days (from age 13 to age 63), the ever puffing fellow smoked at least two packs of Marlboros daily interspersed with Punch maduro leaf cigars (which HG inhaled). There are few family photos of HG without cigarette in hand. First cigarette was upon awakening in the morning and last was before turning out the bedside lamp and going to sleep. Breakfast consisted of many cigarettes, black coffee and the New York Times. (Woe, woe, unfortunate BSK, the victim of omnipresent clouds of second hand smoke). Did the desperate addiction affect HG’s health. You betcha. Throat cancer in 1992. Saved by a miraculous 12 hour surgery by a team headed by a genius surgeon. Difficult one year recovery period. At present, HG has COPD. Finds walking at high altitudes (like Santa Fe) difficult. Also, has to sleep with a noisy oxygen tank at high altitudes. (HG and BSK possess many pairs of ear plugs). HG can’t credit will power and mental toughness with ending the nicotine addiction. It was the death drama of cancer that did it. HG has been asked (now that HG is moving on to age 89) if he would like to resume smoking at age 90. No. HG hates the smell of tobacco smoke. Finds the sight of smokers depressing. It all signifies death, not pleasure, to HG.

The New Yorker magazine was where HG discovered the late, great writer, Philip Roth. The New Yorker published young Roth’s short story, “Defender of the Faith.” Roth recalled that he bought a number of copies of the magazine when it came out and had moments of sheer delight seeing his fiction in print for the first time. For HG, the story was a revelation. Here was a writer, HG felt, who captured all of the complexities of being a Jew in post-Holocaust, post-World War Two, America. (The story was very controversial. Roth became the object of accusations and calumny from the Jewish establishment). As the years went by, HG read all of Roth’s short stories, novels and essays. Roth was unique. He could be searching, illuminating and intellectually challenging. He could also be very funny in the style of a stand up comedian like Lenny Bruce. Almost the same age, HG often mused that Roth spent a lifetime alone in a room crafting his fictions. HG, on the other hand, had a career in noisy newspaper and wire service “city rooms” followed by mingling with office mates as HG composed a million words of press release piffle. HG believes HG had a happier time. HG read Anthony Bourdain’s first piece in The New Yorker where he warned readers never to eat fish in a restaurant on Monday. Once more, an original voice was heard. HG/BSK had much joy watching Bourdain’s CNN television culinary/travel/culture/politics series. Thought HG, if HG could be another person, HG would be Bourdain. He combined all of HG’s food, moral and political passions. Moreover, he was paid well to travel the world and explore cultures. His suicide was shocking. A man who embodied pleasure, hid some dark demons.

Last meal in Rhode Island before setting off to Prince Edward Island. And, the finale was festive, full of culinary fireworks. The venue was Bristol Oyster Bar in the historic town of Bristol. They do a “buck a shuck” oyster night on Tuesday. Decided to do a reprise of the oyster feast HG/BSK (and Lesley R.) enjoyed during our Christmas season visit. Of course, this time HG overdid. Three dozen oysters, chilled, briny, nicely shucked. All from Rhode Island waters: Moonstones, Quonrie Rocks, Point Judith Salts and Aquidnacks. Then, on to a ceviche of fresh raw scallops with crispy potato chips, cucumber, lime, cilantro and ginger. Steamed “Drunken” little neck clams in a mind-blowing sauce of beer, onions, garlic (grilled bread to soak up the deliciousness). Cajun tuna (cooked rare) with potato crisps, parsnip chips, spicy New Orleans mayo and chimichurri cream. Mussels in a garlic and wine broth topped with salt and vinegar potato sticks gilded with a red pepper coulis. Fried oysters in a cornmeal crust with pickled red onions, lime and cilantro. Cajun pork belly confit on a bed of parsnip puree with an array of house made pickles. Fresh local green salad with goat cheese, parsnip chips and marinated vegetables. (Hey, don’t characterize us as gluttons. These are all modest small plate portions). To drink: Sancerre for BSK and Brilliant/Beautiful granddaughter Arianna R. Black and Tan (Guinness and IPA ale) for HG. Happy heads and tummies. Off to bed to get an early start on Canadian motoring.

BSK (the best long distance driver) is at the wheel and Toby, The Wonder Dog (the best canine traveler) is snuggling on HG’s lap. Off to the democracy to the north, Canada, and the HG/BSK oceanfront home on Prince Edward Island. First stop is Amarillo, Texas, home of Tyler’s Barbecue. Yes, Tyler’s is what Texas ‘cue is all about. HG/BSK devoured big platters of pulled pork, brisket, beans and cole slaw. Tangy Tyler’s sauce. Condiments were pickles, chopped onions and jalapeños. Big glasses of icy pink lemonade. Carnivore heaven. Drove through a hundred miles of Texas and Oklahoma wind farms. Mused about the mid-American psyche as billboards lauded the virtues of Jesus Christ and the enticements of “Gentlemen’s Clubs” and sex toy emporiums. HG swam in the La Quinta pool (Oklahoma City) and BSK did floor exercises and stretches. Too full of bar-b-q to contemplate dinner. Yes, barbecue and highway chain motels are two of the things America does best.

He was the best. No one wrote better about the America of HG’s lifetime. Inventive, penetrating, fearless and funny. Made HG reflect on being a Jew, an American, a man. He relentlessly explored facets of male sexuality, portraying it, in turns, as funny, tragic, angry and an expression of power. HG believes he was the last of the male authors who have dominated American fiction for the last 60 years (Bellow, Updike, Mailer, etc.). Women (like Rachel Kushner) are taking over. Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood are absolute fiction all-stars. (HG believes there are five great masters of the short story–Munro, Chekhov, Malamud, William Trevor and Raymond Carver). Women have a huge repository of experience that has been minimized, their intellect an object of condescension; they have often been barred from power and, of course, sexually abused. In mass culture they have been characterized as unrealistic physical wonders used to sell virtually everything. Now, it’s time for women’s fiction to have the readership and respect equal to that of the late, great Phillip Roth.

HG recently mused about the pleasures of matzos (matzo brei and solda). But, like much of Jewish history, there is a dark side to matzos. Namely, “the blood libel”: For centuries Jew haters claimed that the blood of a Christian child (later expanded to Muslim children) was the necessary ingredient in the composition of matzos. Jews in Britain were murdered in 1144 after being accused of “the blood libel.” Similar murder of Jews in France (1171). There are more than 150 cases of “blood libel” actions against Jews in recorded history. (Hundreds more were not recorded.) Probably the most significant “blood libel” pogrom took place in 1903. The place was Kishinev, a Bessarabian town at the edge of the Russian Tsarist Empire. During Easter time, in three bloody days, 49 jews were killed and hundreds of Jewish women were raped. “POGROM: Kishinev and the Tilt of History” by Stanford University Professor Steven J Zipperstein, was recently published. Philip Roth described the book thusly: “POGROM is a splendid book that pinpoints the moment at the start of the twentieth century when exile in Europe turned deadly in a way that foretold the end of everything. It tells us the horror that occurred street by street, butchery by butchery–with gripping clarity and an admirable brevity.” Ten years later, Menahem Mendel Beilis, a Jewish Kiev factory supervisor, was accused of murdering a Christian to obtain blood for matzo baking. The case against Beilis never had any substance. Beilis, not an observant Jew, was working at the factory on the Sabbath when the murder took place. He was observed in the factory by the entire gentile work force. Nevertheless, Beilis was jailed. Soon after, authorities gave him an plea-offer to go free. He refused and demanded a fair trial. The trial jury, despite being composed of many members of the anti-semitic “Black Hundreds,” found Belis innocent. The Beilis case was fictionalized by Bernard Malamud in the novel (and later movie), “The Fixer.” The Beilis character in the fiction bears little resemblance to the real Beilis. He gave all credit for his freedom to the Russian detective and Russian lawyer who worked on his behalf. He said they risked their reputations and their lives in the cause of justice. One would presume that this ridiculous myth of baking blood into matzo would have disappeared in these more enlightened times. Not so. In 2012, Saudi cleric Salman Al-Hodeh repeated “the blood libel” accusations. As did an Egyptian political leader in 2013 and Hamas officials in 2014. The madness persists.

In America, unkempt is the prevailing male look. Facial stubble or untrimmed beards. Torn jeans. Sloppy shirts. Baseball caps. This was not the case when HG reached maturity in the 50’s and 60’s. (Mid to late 60’s introduced the “hippy” and “flower child” looks — things went downhill from there). Barber shops provided the ultimate in masculine grooming. The best was the barber shop in Manhattan’s Park Sheraton Hotel, Seventh Avenue and 55th Street. It was a favorite of music publishers, theatrical producers, talent agents, entertainers, night club proprietors, bookmakers, money lenders (known as “Shys”); mob bosses and a variety of big shots, legitimate and criminal. (Mobster Albert Anastasia was shot to death in the barber shop in 1957. “King of the Underworld” Arnold Rothstein was killed at the hotel when it was named the Park Central). This was the routine at the barber shop for a classy gent. Haircut. Shave (with a straight razor, steaming towel and brushed on shave cream. Talc and fragrant aftershave to finish). Manicure (by an attractive woman). Shoe shine by a skilled bootblack. Finally, a brushing of suit, coat and fedora by an aged “brusher.” After tips to all, the stylish gent (Probably wearing a suit from Leighton’s, a nearby Broadway shop. Leighton’s was on Broadway for 67 years. Closed in 1986) was off to meet the world or conduct a stealthy assignation in the hotel’s rooms.

The usual bullshit. That’s what we’re getting from the Republicanazis, their mouths firmly locked on the NRA money tit. None of them will admit that the AR-15, the weapon of choice in school killings, is an attack weapon, a military weapon. It is designed to kill people as rapidly and efficiently as possible. Easy to buy. Easy (sadly) to use. They should be banned. They are not used for hunting or self protection. HG assumes they are flying off gun shop shelves as crazy copycats dream of murder.

The Republicanazis, devout followers of Der Trumperer, are a slimy bunch. HG, rarely surprised by their nasty conduct, was shocked while watching two Republicanazis comment (on CNN) about the Florida school massacre. The male said the fault was Hollywood’s so don’t attack the NRA. He said Hollywood makes violent movies and that’s the basic cause of school shootings. Well, Canadians watch violent movies, have the usual drug problems, broken homes, etc. Very few mass shootings because they have strict gun laws. Japan, where there are are plenty of violent movies, comic books, etc., has a Samurai tradition and powerful skills at warfare. No mass shootings (police shot a total of six bullets last year). Very, very strict gun laws and annual gun surveillance. The female blamed the Florida attack on the FBI. Called for investigation of FBI plus resignations. No mention of gun laws or the NRA. One would think FBI agents shot those Florida kids.

Well, HG can be wrong about the stock market. In a recent post, HG presumed that the stock market would continue its plunge. HG reasoned that Trumponics, with its huge tax giveaways to corporations and the wealthy plus vast military spending, would create gargantuan deficits. HG believed that the resulting high interest rates and inflation would torpedo stocks. It seems investors don’t care. The market continues to gain. Misguided euphoria?? In the meantime, the cost estimate for Der Trumperer’s military parade is thirty million dollars. Der Trumperer is generous with taxpayer money except when it comes to Medicare and aid to the poor. And, in Florida, some 17 are killed in a high school massacre. The weapon? An AR-15 rifle. It is the preferred weapon for school shootings. Why are they sold (In Florida, they are easier to buy than a handgun)? Because our disgusting Republican congressmen, champion hypocrites, intone prayers while wallowing in NRA campaign dollars. And, the “war on drugs” and the war in Afghanistan continue. Both expensive and futile. Der Trumperer wants billions to build his Mexico Wall in order to stem drug trafficking and and keep out “bad hombres.” The “Wall” won’t stop the flow of drugs. Since Americans want forbidden drugs it is all a simple matter of demand and supply. When will there be legalization of narcotics and the acknowledgment that addiction is a medical problem and not a criminal problem?