Category Archives: Uncategorized

Let’s Beat Up Grandma: The Blame Instinct

I really like the way the Rosling book Factfulness leans into our tendency to want to assign blame whenever anything goes wrong. Hans Rosling tells the story this way: 

“I was lecturing at Karolinska Institute [a Swedish medical university], explaining that the big pharmaceutical companies do hardly any research on malaria and nothing at all on sleeping sickness or other illnesses that affect only the poorest. 

A student sitting at the front said, ‘Let’s punch them in the face.’”

(A lengthy chain of “blame” ensued, arriving finally at the many retirees whose investments in pharmaceutical companies help them maintain a stable retirement income because the price of pharmaceutical stocks has tended not to fluctuate as much as most other stocks, and their dividends are fairly well assured.) So, Rosling concluded: 

“…This weekend, go visit your grandma and punch her in the face. If you feel you need someone to blame and punish, it’s the seniors and their greedy need for stable stocks.” 

The desire to find someone or something to blame when events don’t go as we’d like is probably universal. For those of us brought up on Bible stories, it all started in the Garden of Eden, with Adam, Eve, and the snake—Adam blaming Eve, Eve blaming the snake (and God not accepting any of their blame or excuses.) 

The problem with blame is that blame does little or nothing to resolve a problem. Many of us have heard the axiom that in order to point your finger in blame at someone else, you must retract your other fingers, in essence pointing them at yourself. Neither blaming others nor blaming ourselves does anyone much good. 

Many years ago, a tale widely shared in the business community was the “three envelopes story”: placed in a difficult management role, the new manager inherits from his predecessor three sealed envelopes with time-tested advice, to be opened and used sequentially and sparingly, only in cases of extreme need:

1) blame your predecessor
2) reorganize
3) prepare three envelopes

Very rarely is there a single person or factor who deserves either blame or credit for a particular outcome. More often, there are sets of interlocking factors in a complex system, making it quite difficult to determine which factor(s) can be adjusted to produce a better outcome. 

Roslings’ prescriptions: Look for causes, not villains; look for systems, not heroes. 

It’s easier to fall into the trap of using blame when we divorce ourselves from the natural world. That’s one reason a short Robert Frost poem, “Something Like a Star,” with an imaginary conversation with a reclusive star, helps reground me against blaming:  

…Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed. …


And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

Nothing Is Coming Up Roses: the Negativity Instinct

From time to time, people have compared me to the gloomy character “Eeyore” from the children’s Winnie the Pooh series, or to the character Joe Btfsplk in the L’il Abner comic strip—a guy who constantly has a black cloud over his head. I’m not uniformly gloomy, and it’s not as if I intend to be morose, but I seem to have a penchant for worrying about all the possible ways a situation may turn out wrong. A long-term friend has a more measured description: I’m a “contingency planner.”  

As part of the lead-in to its chapter about the negativity instinct, Roslings’ book Factfulness shows a chart with the results of a survey done in 30 countries with a single three-option question: “Do you think the world is getting better, staying the same, or getting worse?” 

In all 30 of the countries surveyed, the majority of respondents said the world was getting worse. (Not everyone in any country did, though—there are at least some incurable optimists out there.)  Results ranged from nearly 90% who answered “worse” in Turkey to between 50 and 60% in Russia, with other countries, including the U.S., arrayed fairly evenly in between. 

The Roslings go on to show sets of global statistics that nearly all point to considerable improvement in many areas of life over the past 200 years: extreme poverty has declined precipitously, life expectancy has more than doubled, health and wealth in most countries have improved greatly. We tend to overemphasize the negative because it is “dramatic.” Good weather, good deeds, good fortune can get taken for granted. We’re more likely to pay attention when something goes wrong. 

So what can we do to counteract the negativity instinct? 

Hans Rosling’s response is to use a “both/and” approach. As he meditates on the issue, he decides: “The [or ‘a’] solution is not to balance out all the negative news with more positive news. That would just risk creating a self-deceiving, comforting, misleading bias in the other direction. It would be as helpful as balancing too much sugar with too much salt. … I am saying that things can be both bad and better. … Does saying ‘things are improving’ imply that everything is fine, and we should all relax and not worry? No, not at all. Is it helpful to have to choose between bad and improving? Definitely not. It’s both. It’s both bad and better.”  

So, the next time someone accuses you of being unnecessarily negative, remind yourself that contingency planning can be valuable. Most aspects of life are a combination of “bad” and “better.” Then take that next breath and figure out what you may be able to do to improve some small part of what strikes you as bad.  

The “Fear” Instinct: Danger versus Fright

One of the most insidious “instincts” we retain from earlier periods of human existence is the fear instinct, when misapplied. Some fears are justified. Many are not, or are blown out of proportion.

Like Hans Rosling, author of Factfulness, I grew up during the 1950’s and 1960’s Cold War era, back when we did “civil defense” drills for protecting ourselves in the event of a nuclear attack (spoiler alert—hiding under your elementary school desk with your hands interlaced above your head would be pretty useless against nuclear blasts or fallout). 

My nightmares back then involved not being able to find family members in time for all of us to hide in our house’s basement, the one area that might provide some minimal protection against the effects of nuclear blasts and radiation. As our societies continue to learn to deal with nuclear threats, my fear level about nuclear attack ebbs and flows.  

My fear of snakes has likewise ebbed and flowed. Much of my life has been spent where snake bites are rare and even more rarely lethal. However, during my one extended stay in an African country, where black or green mambas could inject a quickly lethal venom and sometimes were fairly well camouflaged, fear of snakes may have helped keep me alive.

Back then, I had part-time access to an aging Volkswagen beetle with a rust hole near its gas pedal. I used it to commute to the offices of an international development project I was a temporary part of. One afternoon, as I drove back to the office after a lunch break, I noticed a large black snake sidling across the road in front of me. Had it been still, I might not have registered its presence. As it was, I slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road a good distance uphill from the snake. The little car I was driving might have been heavy enough to crush the snake, but I decided it would be risky to drive over it. The hole in the bottom of the car was too near my foot. Instead, I waited. Not long afterward, a heavy luxury vehicle driven by the head of the local branch of the World Bank came barreling down the hill. After the Mercedes drove over it, the snake was thoroughly crushed and dead. I proceeded, more careful thereafter to distinguish between road tar and road snakes.  

Rosling tells a story of how, when he was just starting out as a physician, his irrational fear of nuclear war badly distorted his initial reaction to an incoherent Swedish pilot with hypothermia. Afterwards, Rosling’s longish life of dealing in some fearful situations led him to a more skeptical view of most fears: “Fears that once helped keep our ancestors alive, today help keep journalists employed.” Rosling asserts, “If we look at the facts behind the headlines, we can see how the fear instinct systematically distorts what we see of the world.”  

Today is Veterans’ Day, when we honor those living and dead who have sometimes put themselves in harm’s way to help keep the rest of us safer. They get sent where most of us would fear to go. During the waning days of World War II, my Dad was stationed with the Navy in the South Pacific. He never made a fuss about being a veteran. The war he was part of did horrendous damage, but may have indirectly played a small part in reducing our fears of “others.” As some lyrics from the 1949 musical “South Pacific” taunted: “You’ve got to be taught to be afraid of people whose eyes are oddly made, and people whose skin is a different shade, you’ve got to be carefully taught…” Some of those of different shades who’d served during World War II eventually became leaders in the Civil Rights movements, including Medgar Evers and Ralph Abernathy.

Not having served in the military, I cannot speak directly to the level of fear generated by deployment in dangerous areas or by actual combat. I am deeply indebted to those whose willingness to take risks on my behalf has made my life safer. However, I suspect that military planners and leaders have sometimes put both soldiers and civilians in harm’s way unnecessarily.

Rosling concludes, “Fear can be useful, but only if it is directed at the right things. … ‘Frightening’ and ‘dangerous’ are two different things. Something frightening poses a perceived risk. Something dangerous poses a real risk. Paying too much attention to what is frightening rather than what is dangerous … creates a tragic drainage of energy in the wrong directions.” May we all, especially our military’s leaders, get better at distinguishing fright from danger.

Minding the Voting “Gap”

Roslings’ book Factfulness begins with a sword swallower. As a child, senior author Hans Rosling loved going to the circus. He was intrigued by the sword swallowers he sometimes saw there. Later, after he’d trained as a medical doctor, he learned that the anatomy of most people’s throats allows for “swallowing” a flat object by thrusting the chin forward. (Please don’t try this at home.) He began to understand that many phenomena we regard as impossible are manageable, given a set of gradually developed knowledge and skills. Throughout the rest of his work life, he tried to develop further his openness to manageable progress, along with further knowledge and skills. 

Rosling spent much of his career as a health researcher in a variety of countries in sub-Saharan Africa and in Asia. During his travels he saw over time how some areas had improved substantially in the goods and services people had access to. When he later returned to his home country of Sweden and taught local medical students, he realized that many of his students had an outmoded view of the world—thinking it consisted only of “rich” countries and “poor” ones. 

During the latter part of his career, Hans made it part of his life’s work to get people to take a more nuanced, changeable view of the range of global incomes and living conditions. The Roslings characterize the tendency we all have to simplify lots of different aspects of life (rich/poor, big family/small family, limited education/full education) as binary, with no in-between stages, focussing solely or primarily on the extremes. They call this the “gap” instinct. 

It took Hans Rosling most of two decades to help persuade the World Bank to group nations into multiple income levels, rather than just characterizing countries as either “developed,” or “developing.” He theorizes that maybe changing the misconception of an unbridgeable gap between rich and poor countries was so hard because, “…human beings have a strong dramatic instinct toward binary thinking, a basic urge to divide things into two distinct groups, with nothing but an empty gap in between.”  

If you’ve followed some of my previous blog efforts, you’re likely aware that I am very wary of the “red state/blue state” gap, among other attempts to depict the American electorate as two extremes with little or nothing in between. Our politicians and our media do us a disservice when they characterize our beliefs or voting patterns that way. Even more damaging and dangerous is the tendency to characterize anyone with a set of beliefs or a voting pattern different from ours as somehow misguided or, even worse, evil. 

I don’t know how to counter this particular American “gap” tendency entirely—after all, our country has had the same two major political parties for about 150 years  (though what each party emphasizes or claims to believe has changed over time). To some extent, we all need to “clump” individuals into groups, especially when we are talking about large populations. There are over 8 billion humans currently alive, so the effort to see each human individual “whole” is beyond even the most sophisticated analysis. However, we can resist the tendency to reduce every issue, every grouping, to just a binary choice. 

Some other countries already practice one small step in the direction of more nuanced voting patterns:  as of 2014, the CIA World Fact Book listed 22 countries with a total population of nearly 750 million where voting is required of citizens over the age of 18. Most widely known among these is Australia, where, if you fail to participate in an election, you will be liable for a small fine. Brazil, with over 200 million people, also requires voting, as do Costa Rica, Greece, Mexico, and Thailand, among others. Practicing democracy requires constructive engagement, and voting, made as convenient and easy as practical, is one measure of that engagement. Requiring everyone to vote doesn’t guarantee a 100% turnout, but it is something of an incentive. It can help reduce electoral polarization, especially in primary or off-year elections when U.S. turnout has often been weak, with mostly the more extreme partisans at either end of the political spectrum bothering to show up at the polls.

Other voting practices that can reduce either/or thinking may involve such things as multi-member districts, rank choice voting (sometimes called “instant run-offs”), non-partisan primaries, open primaries (allowing votes for candidates of other parties than the one you are registered in), ballot initiatives and referenda, and independent redistricting commissions. None are perfect tools. In the U.S., few have been tried at the national level. Multiple localities and states have experimented with a variety of these measures. Emphasizing local voting and local elections may be a partial antidote to our current fixation with officials at the national level. Further experimentation might help reduce partisan wrangling and government gridlock.   

While the “gap” instinct in characterizing voters and voting patterns may provide a way station in our journey toward more complete understanding, it’s a very fruitless place to get stuck.   

Taming the Urgency Instinct

This instinct, out of ten harmful perspectives mentioned in the 2018 book Factfulness, is the one the Roslings tackle last. It’s also one that gives me a lot of trouble. During the few days’ lull between this past Tuesday’s election and the crescendo of year-end fundraising appeals that begin to fill my postal and email in boxes this time of year, perhaps I can further tamp down my tendency to concentrate on “quick fixes.” Some problems have festered for decades, if not centuries. There may even be some whose contours are already getting less dire.  

Most of us have sometimes been lured by advertising and/or public pronouncements of “now or never.” When I was a teenager,  teen pregnancy was considered a big problem. Back then, one of the era’s most popular music idols recorded a new English lyric to an earlier Italian song. Elvis had me and many of my classmates swooning, though we might have been pretty hazy on what “be mine” meant: 

“It’s now or never, come hold me tight, 
Kiss me, my darling, be mine tonight–
Tomorrow will be too late,
It’s now or never, my love won’t wait.”

The testosterone-driven urgency of this 1961 lyric did not boost efforts to promote sexual responsibility among impressionable teens. However, Elvis was more echo than cause of an epidemic of post-World War II teen childbearing. The rate of teen pregnancies had peaked in 1957 at an estimated 96.3 births per 1,000 young women aged 15 through 19. It then began to decline. By 1986, it had fallen to 50.2.  (https://www.congress.gov/crs-product/R45184) The rate has since dropped even further, registering a historic low of 13.1 in 2023. Many successive studies confirm the negative impacts of teen births: “Adolescent childbearing is associated with significant social, health, and financial risks for teens, their families, and society more broadly.” 

Perhaps mothers (and fathers) of teenagers have over time come up with more effective ways to impress upon their daughters (and sons) the dangers of this particular “now or never” argument. Perhaps teens have gotten better at assessing risks.

Lately, most of the “now or never” appeals I’ve been getting involve either 

1) the need to reduce food insecurity or 
2) the dire consequences if we elect candidates of the “other” political party.  

1) It’s true that confusion and ongoing changes to SNAP benefits (also known as “food stamps”) for millions of low and moderate income Americans have temporarily increased food insecurity in many places. To compensate, food pantries, non-profits that provide meals, and food rescue organizations have all stepped up their fundraising and distribution efforts to mitigate negative impacts in the U.S.  It is also true that too many people throughout the world lack reliable access to healthy, nutritious food. Heartrending videos of ongoing hunger and starvation in Gaza and in Sudan can make us want to do something, anything, right away, to reduce the harm. 

What gets less attention are strides that continue to be made in producing sufficient food globally.  Per a recent report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture: “Over the past six decades, world production of crops, livestock, and aquaculture commodities grew from a gross value of $1.1 trillion to $4.3 trillion (2015 dollars). … As global agricultural productivity has risen, fewer natural and environmental resources per unit of agricultural production have been used.” (https://www.ers.usda.gov/amber-waves/2024/september/global-changes-in-agricultural-production-productivity-and-resource-use-over-six-decades

A decade or so after my Elvis phase, I listened to another singer, Harry Chapin, as he pitched the importance of helping solve the hunger crisis. Harry was convinced that world hunger was a solvable problem—more a distribution issue than overall scarcity. An organization he helped found, WhyHunger, still exists and is working in multiple countries to help reduce food insecurity. A similar group, The Hunger Project, works with a slightly different focus but similar goals. Related groups such as Drawdown, working to reduce the impacts of climate change, point to the current waste in our global food systems as a potential source of both increased food security and decreased greenhouse gas emissions. Reliable estimates put current global food waste at about 1/3 of all food produced.

2) Ever since the 2000 election cycle, I’ve gotten increasing numbers of urgent solicitations from political candidates and committees. Not all, but most requests want to persuade me that the opposing candidate or party is venal if not downright evil. They do little to explain how their candidate(s) might make conditions better, but concentrate on how their opponent(s) will make things worse. After several years of such solicitations from one party, I got so annoyed that I changed my voter registration to “no party affiliation.” Unfortunately, that just produced more requests—now from “both” sides. 

I don’t deny that much in our current political system cries out for reform. What I do question is whether replacing one set of naysayers with a different set of “nattering nabobs of negativism” would improve the situation. Per a recently edited Wikipedia article on “divided government in the United States”  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Divided_government_in_the_United_States), the U.S. has had roughly equal periods of divided and “unified” government since our current two political parties coalesced in 1857. There have been about 76 years when the Executive branch (the Presidency) was led by a different party than at least one house of the Legislative branch (the Congress). There were 74 years when a single party controlled both the executive and legislative branches. It’s not clear to me whether either set of periods was substantially better at governing the country.  

https://whyhunger.org http://thehungerproject.org http://drawdown.org

My “urgency instinct” is likely to kick in to some extent this giving season. I will likely make additional donations to food rescue organizations to reduce current food insecurity. Once the next election season ramps up, I may make small campaign contributions or volunteer for a local candidate.  However, I’ll continue to use whatever time is left to me to move away from “now OR never” toward “some now AND some later.” May you similarly use your material and spiritual resources. Happy Thanksgiving!  

Ten November Notions

A few months ago, I posted an entry mentioning a 2018 book I often refer to: Hans Rosling and family’s study of global conditions Factfulness (https://jinnyoccasionalpoems.com/2025/03/15/newsworthy/). 

We’re in the early days of “National Novel Writing November.” While any novel I may have inside me has yet to agitate for birth, I would like to make the effort to write somewhat more frequently during this month when writers of all genres are encouraged to put pen to paper (or hands to keyboards). 

The Roslings published their book, subtitled “Ten Reasons We’re Wrong About the World—and Why Things Are Better Than You Think,” before the Covid-19 pandemic and before some of our current political dysfunction in the U.S. and elsewhere. I believe that their “ten reasons,” also called “instincts,” are still relevant, perhaps even more so now than when they wrote. I plan to explore each one of the ten, not necessarily in order, every few days between now and the end of November. (Their non-profit information foundation, Sweden-based gapminder.org, subtitled “important stuff most people get wrong,” makes frequent updates to the information they study.)  

As an introduction, I’ve photocopied the page near the end of their book that lists their ten reasons, providing a catchy graphic for each one. In the text of the book, the Roslings mesh statistics with personal stories from Hans’ life. One early experience, his near-death from drowning as a 4-year-old, helped form Hans’ world view, as did successive brushes with mortality as he pursued a career as a global health researcher with a concentration on sub-Saharan Africa. 

My interpretations of the ten reasons are somewhat different from Hans’, based on my own life experiences and opinions. Your interpretations will likely be different from mine. Still, I hope that by focussing on each “instinct” in turn, we may all wind up with slightly different perspectives on the opportunities of the present moment, as well as its dangers. 

Next up, the “urgency” instinct.  

Power in Walking, Power in Listening, Power in Quiet

My aging body performs better and heals faster if I walk a good bit every day. In recent weeks, some of my walks have had a dual purpose—maintaining fitness and also helping support the democratic institutions on which our government is built. Last Saturday, I was one of millions who took to the streets as part of “No Kings” protests throughout the U.S. The atmosphere at the event I attended was festive. It made the roughly 2 mile walk go quickly and lessened any tiredness on a fairly hot day. I was careful to stay hydrated. I enjoyed looking at hand-made signs that were a big part of the event. Though I wished some people’s protest signs, banners, and inflatable figures less closely mirrored the disdainful rhetoric we often hear from our current national executive, I could identify with some of their justifiable anger. Some of the younger generations in my family work in government. They have been repeatedly buffeted and challenged by the sometimes haphazard, sometimes vengeful demands, firings, and shutdowns that seem to be prominent tools of this administration. 

Earlier this month, I spent time alternately sitting silently in courtrooms and walking the halls of the U.S. federal courthouse nearest me, bearing mute witness to increasingly harsh, sometimes arbitrary processing and deportation of asylum seekers who show up for their asylum hearings. I have few illusions that either of my protest walks will influence policy in the short term. Still, putting my body where my convictions are in non-violent, non-threatening ways seems appropriate.

Because I arrived early for “No Kings,” I had time to meander among booths set up by various environmental and civic groups near the starting point of the march. I signed a petition or two. I noticed what especially galling aspects of government mismanagement or overreach were being most prominently disputed. One new-to-me civic proponent was one I almost missed. A single person staffed a small table with a tented sign, “The Listening Project.” I walked up to him and asked what he was doing. 

“I’m trying to provide an example of good listening. Listening is really important,” he told me. “Many of us are not very good listeners, but practicing good listening can become a habit, like brushing your teeth every day. If you think of listening as a muscle, it’s one that gets stronger with practice. “ 

Given this implicit permission, I proceeded to talk about how frustrated I felt at the current political stand-offs in our country. It sometimes has seemed to me, I explained, that all this talk of “polarization” tends to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. He neither agreed or disagreed explicitly, but did note that he’d had chances to listen to people from all along the political spectrum. Sometimes, he observed, listening to people whose opinions might be quite militant to begin with resulted in their softening their stances as they felt heard. Listening can be powerful, he reiterated.  

Most of us live in places and spaces that have gotten noisier over the years—airplane engines, traffic, sirens, leaf blowers, not to mention beeps and chirps from our electronics. It can be harder and harder even to hear each other, let alone listen. Too often, we compound the problem by ramping up our own noise output. So we need a third power, the power of quiet. 

In researching this essay, I ran an internet search on “rising ambient noise levels in the U.S.” I found a website for an annual event that I hadn’t known existed, “International Noise Awareness Day.” (Its 31st iteration will occur on April 29, 2026.) I clicked on a link to an interview with author Chris Berdik about his recently published Clamor. The author had submitted his book proposal before the pandemic, but wound up doing much of his research and writing during pandemic-related shutdowns. Alongside its tragedies, the pandemic measurably lowered ambient noise levels in the world’s noisiest places. Berdik argues forcefully that noise is one of the stressors we have not yet paid enough attention to, that hearing loss is only part of the damage caused by too much noise too often.  

To walk, to listen, to be quiet—three powers often overlooked. May we choose more often to walk together, to listen better to each other, and to find peace in quiet, both within and without.  

Vacation Rental

A sort of hybrid, really—less posh
Than a luxury hotel stay or an all-inclusive cruise,
Certainly less opulent (and less expensive)
Than a crewed private yacht.

Still, less chore filled than everyday
Living, clean linens typically supplied,
Fairly often nearby restaurants or
Delis to reduce meal prep tasks.

Because hosts may exaggerate online the allure 
And amenities of their properties, especially
In popular holiday destinations, it pays
To do some independent research before booking.

More often than not, guests
Never get to meet their hosts
In person, instead getting key
Codes to open gates and doors.

The interpersonal graciousness of
Localized hospitality is mostly gone.
Interfaces among actual people
In the “hospitality industry” get more
Complex, contacts more attenuated.

Nevertheless, when all goes well—no weather foul-ups
Or travel delays–a vacation rental can provide
A much needed change of scene for a few days:
A chance to recharge, maybe to renew
Our flagging sense of vocation.

beach house in Pacific Grove, CA

Getting Ready for the Rain

For the first time in about a month,
Our weather apps are showing a non-trivial
Chance of showers tonight or tomorrow–maybe
As much as half an inch. Oh, ecstasy!

I scurry around, getting our small yard
Ready for the rain: positioning buckets to catch
Run-off from the gutter-less part of the roof,
Moistening the soil around area
Trees and shrubs to improve absorption
If/when the rains do come, clearing out roof gutters,
Sweeping away detritus from street edges, replenishing pea
Gravel on our slightly sloping garden walkway.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve
Been a weather nerd. My Maryland childhood
Included watching the approach of summer thundershowers,
Sledding during winter’s rare snowfalls, learning to swim
Just well enough to make it across a neighbor’s pool,
Keeping cool-ish during August’s soggy heat.

Here in San Diego, our heat is more apt to
Arrive in September or October, sometimes
Bringing with it the Santa Ana winds that heighten
Wildfire danger. Rain this time of year can be
A blessing, especially when it falls gently.

Weather nerdiness also exposes me to the
Increasing number of places where weather events
Are getting less gentle–friends in North Carolina
Have been displaced by Hurricane Helene,
Folks I know further north in California were burned
Out this past January, while some San Diegans are still
Recovering from our January, 2024 floods.

It’s not yet clear to me what further changes I’ll
Need to make as our rains become even more
Hit or miss. Last week, I visited Yosemite for the
First time, learning from its guides about the extremes
Of past weather in its granite-encircled, glacier-scoured valleys.
Its highest recent flood, noted at a parking area, would
Have drowned anyone not safely escaped to higher ground.

Regardless of our political outlook or economic status,
I believe we’d be wise to productively, concertedly
Get ready for the rain.

What Good Is August?

At first blush, it seems a mere blot on the calendar—
Wedged between the heroic hoopla of July 4 and
The start of another workaday year around September’s
Labor Day. People in their prime have disappeared from workplaces,
Taking their camping gear, their beach bags, their teenaged offspring
And their air-conditioned vans with them elsewhere.

Those of us left comfortably behind are only a little envious. 
We loll lazily on lounge chairs, or float face up in bathtub-warm
Backyard pools, while grills entice with odors of slowly broiling brats.
Vintage music plays at local festivals–Beach Boys, Beatles,
Sometimes even Sinatra. Bocce tournaments bring out the
Men in white. Parasols make a temporary comeback.

The furious scandals of pre-recess government seem less
Pressing for the moment, the final few tomatoes extra juicy.
August is not regal, not “august,” its aspect instead laid back.
Sharing vowels with its mood, August is languorous.
Before the rushed tumult of impending autumn,
Such languor is both welcome and sorely needed.