From the Publisher: Back East

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Arnold G. York

Washington, D.C. — We arrived in Washington, D.C. half expecting it would look like one of those war torn, bombed out cities in Syria. With all of the nastiness going around, how could it be anything less? Much to our surprise, it was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining and apparently totally indifferent to the new occupant of the White House. There were even some cherry blossoms on the trees. It looked like what it is: Kind of a leisurely Southern city, not too much traffic (other than rush hours), people seldom blowing their car horns and even the protestors outside of the White House seemed kind of mellow. If there is a revolution going on, it all seemed sort of mannerly. As we made the rounds of some of the monuments, it served as a reminder that administrations come and go, and the American political pendulum swings in both directions — action and then reaction and then back again. When you feel depressed about what’s going on today, it’s good to remember that old Brooklyn Dodger adage: “Wait until next year.” We got together with several old friends, one now with Politico  sand the other with National Journal — both in a position to really be in the know about what was going on — and they both sort of agreed. The current White House seems less like a democratic political institution and more like a royal court. One likened it to the royal court of King Henry VIII of England at the time Thomas Cromwell came in and kind of straightened it out, all as depicted in the PBS series “Wolf Hall.” The problem is, there are numerous candidates for the role of Thomas Cromwell and it’s far from clear who, if any of them, will step into those shoes. They told us when they talk to White House operatives, if you ask about policy or programs they have very little to say — but if you ask them about the other players in the White House vying for power, they are delighted to tell you about their many short comings. No one is clearly the boss other than Trump; the chain of command, if it exists, is constantly changing, and boss Trump appears to like it that way. He apparently likes a bit of chaos and is in no hurry to get organized.

The consensus is that it will shake out in time; however, no one seems to know whether that will be, for the better or the worse, and all we can do is wait and see.

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New York, NY — We grabbed a train from Washington to New York Penn Station — one of those fancy fast ones with a bullet nose on the locomotive, and comfortable seats with WiFi and a bar car if you got bored — and it was packed. It’s the kind of train they want to build in California, except here it’s going to go from Fresno to Bakersfield so I don’t know if it’s going to get the kind of traffic they are hoping for, or if Congress will cough up the dollars. This was the Friday midday train, so there were several Congressmen going back to their districts for the weekend, and one sitting across the aisle from us was on the phone constantly making constituent calls all the way. I’ll admit, they do work hard, but this one was a freshman so I guess he was trying to make sure he gets to be a sophomore.

Whereas Washington was laid back, New York was explosive. New York drivers are constantly honking their car horns even when there is nothing to complain about. It obviously just makes them feel good. The horn blowing is usually accompanied by some muttering and, if you’re in a cab, a constant stream-of-consciousness commentary on the quality of the other drivers around them. Still, there is no denying the electricity of the New York scene and it’s invigorating. Of course, the weather went from a pleasant 55 degrees to a suddenly brisk 20 degrees and I was borrowing all sorts of clothing to stay warm. Youthful memories came rushing back and the constant taking of inventory. Do you have your double layers of sweaters, gloves, scarf, hat — especially one that covers your ears — overcoat, heavy socks? And then, of course, you get to the restaurant and the process reverses itself and you start stripping. It takes some planning to survive a New York winter. We took a walk around the Lower East Side of Manhattan where all the immigrants first settled past streets I remember my grandmother mentioning: Delancy Street, Rivington, Bleeker, places where only the poorest of the poor first lived. Today, of course, they have become Village chic, with art galleries and Italian restaurants (Trattorias, of course, not old fashioned pizza parlors) and, like all great cities, they constantly change. The once very chic Upper East Side is now where the older folk live my relatives tell me and the real action is in Chelsea or the old Meat Packing District or Harlem or wherever.

Still, it’s wonderfully invigorating to visit the old turf, but it also serves as a reminder of why we live on the West Coast. We escaped just before the big storm hit and it’s good to be home.