December 13, 2024

Scurry of birds into my dogwood grove. Flickers today among the usual. 

Second-to-last concert tonight. Call is 2 ½ hours before show time. My repeated protests of this sort of thing go unheeded. Directors cannot stop themselves from addressing their anxieties by measures that are certain to damage the performance. Part of it, this time, is the chaos brought on by the loss of accustomed performance space to the hurricane, so one purses one’s lips and goes on. One says “never again,” and then does it again. 

Devoting some thought to the recent assassination of the health insurance CEO on a New York street. I’m not in favor of murder, but I think that, from time to time, people must face the consequences of their actions. Guerilla tactics are lamentable, but blame cannot be laid on those who undertake them after years of desperation, of grievance unaddressed. I’m sorry that the executive was killed, but people do remark on the thousands whose lives were snuffed out or abbreviated as a direct consequence of his policies. Or are only certain lives valuable? Elon Musk counters criticism of insurance policies by noting that the job of a CEO is to increase profits for the shareholder at any cost whatever. Who should be next in the sights of the Avenging Angel? 

I think I remember this was grandma’s birthday. 

Interviewed by Kirkus Review for their publication in a few days of their top 10 (or 100, or something) reviewed books of 2024. Wyona is in there. One said that it’s their top pick from an Independent Press, but we’ll wait to see what it actually says. 

Cold in the study. I dress as I would to go outside.