It Makes No Sense

          During a TV interview, a woman who gave birth to twins while being treated for covid in intensive care let it be known – casually, it seemed to me – that she had been “one of those who thinks covid is, you know, a hoax”. Fortunately, she survived to nurture her babies and, I hope, take more notice in future of facts and reason. But I don’t count on it: the human mind plays tricks on us, pretending to be logical whilst all the time tending to fantasy.

          The next day, the nation was ordered into lockdown – although, to me, it doesn’t seem as dramatic as the first time. Nevertheless, it has put many a plan on hold, one of mine being to drive down the coast awhile and find a new stretch to hike along. The weather was sunny but cold – four degrees but “feels like” minus one. (I don’t know who gets to decide what it “feels like”, but it seems to be a subjective judgement, not worthy of the science of meteorology.) But hey-ho! There are many walks closer to home that offer vistas, nature and history, some of which I have trodden without appreciating all their qualities. Along a street of elegant early-Victorian villas, I noticed – for the first time – a string of inscribed metal panels let into the paving stones. I recognised the text immediately as lines from the Sherlock Holmes stories, though I have never knowingly read any of them. The clues were evident in several outdated phrases that have become lodged in the national psyche – and of course reference to Watson, the power of deduction and the remorseless application of logic. If only!

          Another time, walking along the seafront, I stopped at a coffee kiosk and entered into light conversation with two tough-looking but very friendly policemen in the queue. “What does that badge on your arm mean?”, I asked, “The one that says ARV?” “Armed Response Vehicle,” came the reply. (I should have guessed that from the weaponry slung around them, but my focus was elsewhere.) They went on to say that they didn’t have much to do – unlike American police who, it seems, are constantly occupied in shooting their fellow citizens. But my flat white was called, so we said a cheery goodbye before getting deeper into the politics of policing.

          But I don’t spend all my time walking around. Films (at home, these days) are also part of my routine and it was watching a biography of the husband-and-wife designers, Charles and Ray Eames that spurred me into finishing off the restoration of the mid-century sideboard I had lately rescued from a junk shop. (‘Before’ and ‘after’ photos are proudly displayed.) And, by happy coincidence, I had a lottery win of £30, which I put towards furnishing the cabinet with the makings of typical mid-century cocktails.

After...

Before...

       

 

 

          

 

 

          Meanwhile, Trump fanatics rampaged through the Capitol in a frenzy to overturn the very democratic process that brought their hero to power in the first place. On hearing a few of the hurried press interviews with Trump acolytes, I was struck by the illogic that drove them. It seems that they do not acknowledge the non-sequitur of defending their “freedoms” by destroying democracy. Perhaps the answer to that conundrum lies partly in the definition of “freedoms”.

          And yet, recalling another walk, this time to the Mayflower steps, the departure point for 102 pilgrims who, in 1620, fled persecution for their beliefs in England and settled in America, there is a plaque that offers another possible explanation. It has been calculated that 35 million Americans can now trace ancestry back to those same pilgrims and, though the mathematics of that will always be a mystery to me, the impact on American politics makes some sense. Four centuries later, governmental control is still anathema to millions of Americans – unless, of course, that government controls people who don’t agree with them. The logic is impeccable.