Of Mountains & Malls

Met up with my beloved Barbara at the Gardiner Bakehouse yesterday.

The beautiful Aemilia, fashion maven & Barbara's daughter, is marrying a man who grew up in High Falls, so Barbara has reasons to visit this part of the country periodically.

We talked politics for three hours.

Or rather—not politics but the culture wars around those politics.

Resolved: Why did people vote for Trump when it was clearly not in their best economic interests to vote for Trump?

"It's the trans sports issue," I said. "Time and time again, that's what I heard when I was out canvassing people with Trump banners in their yards. I don't want my little Brittney to have to play volleyball against boys."

"Well, but I mean, there was just as much opposition against same-sex marriage initially, wasn't there?" Barbara said. "And people came around."

"People came around because of media representation," I said. "Specifically, network TV shows with mainstream audiences like Will & Grace and Modern Family. I can think of a handful of shows with trans characters. Orange is the New Black. Transparent. Euphoria. But they weren't shows aimed at the mainstream."



Afterward, I drove her back halfway up the Shawangunk ridge over the remotest back roads you can possibly imagine to her future co-in-laws' place on six acres of dense forest along the edge of an abandoned quarry overlooking the long-defunct D&H canal.

Why do every single one of these remote country houses seem to have a derelict bathtub on the premises?



Barbara has some issues with Dylan's mother, a very smart, fast-talking Dominican who never shuts up. I could see how this could be utterly exhausting on any kind of long-term basis—literally! Christi barely pauses for breath!—but I really liked Christi for the hour or so we spent talking and moreover, I felt immensely sorry for her; she must feel even more isolated and alienated than I feel here in Trumplandia. If you didn't have to organize an expedition every time you went to her house, I would consider making Christi my new BFF.

Barbara & Christi told me the structure below was once some sort of a silo.

But I could see right away that it was a kiln. You don't make silos out of heat-resistant tiles, and besides: There have never been corn fields around here. No doubt the kiln was used by the house's previous owners to bake bricks out of pulverized stone mined from the abandoned quarry. Cement-making and brick-making were the two big industries in this part of the world right up through the 1970s.



From remotest, most rugged Ulster County, I had to traipse out to deepest, darkest Middletown Mall-World to get the PTIN # that will allow me to prepare taxes for money—Soulless Tax Company paid the fee—which depressed me so much I could barely function for the rest of the evening.

Soulless Tax Company's rented premises were right next door to a check-cashing operation, which tells you everything you need to know about that.

What have I gotten myself into?

But if I don't like it, I can quit, right?