My wife and I took a three-week trip to London, Munich and a beach town near Venice this summer. We took a train over the Alps from Germany to Italy, through the Brenner Pass. It was a joy! I’m lucky to be able to do it and for the first time in years, I didn’t work abroad. Now I’m back and still a tad jet-lagged, so it’s time to write the classic essay about what it all taught me. I hope my elementary school teachers would be proud.
So, what did I learn? I dunno; Nothing?!
Jokes. Jokes. I’m still a little too relaxed, it seems. Here we go:
1. I enjoy rest and relaxation and am more convinced than ever that taking a vacation is an act of resistance. By refusing to panic and indulge in the American work ethic the whole time, I avoid that compulsion to “be useful.” I’m plenty useful enough if I’m eating mozzarella and Parma ham, thank you very much. More of this kind of attitude would be good for the world. Namaste. If you think I’m joking, that’s a problem. I’m deadly serious about holidays. This life is a marathon, I hope, and not a sprint, and I didn’t take a proper holiday in the last six years. That was not great for my health. Time to fix it. I vow to take another one as soon as possible!
2. Europe is a mess. England, where I grew up, and which I still consider part of Europe *(it isn’t, see below 👇🏻), is drought-stricken. All the grass is grey and it’s apocalyptic, being there. The country isn’t prepared for climate change and there isn’t enough air conditioning. We spent a lot of time there thinking, “oh, dear.” I do worry about little old England. For real. Then again, in Germany our friends are trying not to freak their kids out. They’re convinced with good reason that their country will be at war with Russia in a decade. The government is cutting budgets to fund its war machine. If that happens, the machine could force their kids to fight. Yikes. Meanwhile in Italy, they’ve canceled free migration from Spain. There are fears about an influx of Moroccans since thousands crossed the border with Cueta. But in 1956, 130 Italian migrants died down a mine in Belgium. Il Gazzettino, the newspaper of record in Venice, ran a tribute to the dead miners on the anniversary. It even featured a column titled “when we were migrants.” And yet Italy doesn’t seem, let’s say, over-keen to recognize those who want to settle there. Even when it’s for the same economic chances its own martyrs once sought abroad. People have short memories, don’t they? Racists, I mean. And of course, I realize that for an American to say Europe is dysfunctional is ridiculous. I know.
3. Misinformation continues to undermine simple truth. While we were in Italy, Britain’s right-wing candidate, Nigel Farage, beat a dustbin in a vote. He insisted he had “stuck two fingers up at the establishment.” In fact, he spent weeks trying to distract people from a probe into his corruption. He has strong links to Russia and is, like Donald Trump, a pawn of Vladimir Putin. The goal is to further undermine democracy. People don’t like it when I say, “Vladmir Putin is the biggest threat to the world after climate change.” But I’m going to continue repeating myself on this front. The man is terrifying. On that note, Paul Dano is excellent in The Wizard of the Kremlin, which stars Jude Law, in a crazy piece of casting, as Vlad. He plays him as a convincing psychopath and a menace, and I’d urge you to watch the film as soon as you can. I thoroughly enjoyed it, if enjoyed is the right word. It spoke to me.
4. Walter Matthau was a great actor. I watched him in Hopscotch, a prescient 1970s film satirizing the self-serious CIA. And in Charley Varrick, another 1970s film about a small-time crook. Both films I’d never heard of, and both are contenders for my top 10, now. Matthau was able to convey so much about the simple humanity in people. He was the calming influence I needed on the trip. I want to go on a Matthau kick, now. Hit me up with recommendations, please.
5. Books help us make sense of the contemporary and historic madness. I read Isabel Allende’s The Wind Knows My Name, about Trump’s policy of child separation in 2019 and its parallels with Nazi Germany. We drove past a sign to Dachau. I read Lisa See’s Daughters of the Sun and Moon, about the 1871 Chinese Massacre in Los Angeles. I read two books about the impact of Spain’s civil war: Homage to Barcelona by Colm TĂłibĂn, and Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz ZafĂłn. And I read Art Spy, by Michelle Young, about a French art curator who saved thousands of stolen masterpieces in Paris during World War Two. Now I’m reading a book based on the BBC’s timeless political satire, Yes Minister. I really needed a bit of comedy, it turns out.
Lastly, I’m pleased to see AOC’s chances of becoming Democratic nominee have shot up on Polymarket since she went public about freezing her eggs. She was right to dump that fiancĂ© of hers, don’t you think? And I’m fascinated to see fellow Dem presidential contender Jon Ossoff mentioning Natalie Harp in a speech last night. Someone on Twitter wrote that Harp is the “widely assumed mistress of Donald Trump.” Yikes! have no idea if it’s true or not, and it certainly seems like irresponsible slander, if it’s not. But since when did that level of moral rectitude bother Trump? It’s very nice to see somebody on the Dems’ side of things who is willing to stick the boot in. I was also gratified to see that the Supreme Court turned down Trump’s appeal to overturn the verdict in the case against E. Jean Carroll, the woman he sexually assaulted at Bergdorf Goodman. What a mess we’re in, eh? It’s enough to make me eager for another vacation…but I’m glad to be home.
Matt
Matt Davis is a strategic communications consultant.
