On our way back from Palm Coast we stopped in DeLand, which I had long wanted to visit because of its acclaimed main street. In 2017 it was designated “America’s Main Street,” and I am something of a connoisseur of main streets. Once, visiting a magazine editor in Marin County, I was asked what I’d liked to see that afternoon – the options included Muir Woods – and I suggested a stroll through downtown San Anselmo (the editor’s hometown).
The entry into DeLand was promising, down a leafy street that took us past Stetson University, and we found a parking spot at one end of the famous main street (aka Woodland Blvd.). It was attractive, lined with two- and three-story buildings; many of the businesses hunkered under large awnings. There were no empty storefronts – always a good sign – and one used bookstore, earning it a “Swick’s Main Street” designation, though it took me a while to find a book I wished to buy. My new rule is never walk out of an independent bookstore empty-handed.
The only thing the street seemed to lack was people. It was after lunch hour, and perhaps DeLand is experiencing 100 percent employment, and Stetson has the world's most diligent students, but the place had a somewhat lonely feel. This was made even more noticeable by the traffic, which was tremendous. Cars and trucks flowed in a constant stream but few of them stopped. Of course this made it, unfortunately, a very American main street.
Last week I stopped at Greenwise, Publix’s boutique supermarket in downtown Fort Lauderdale. It was busy with office workers on their lunch breaks. A line stretched in front of the deli counter, where baguette sandwiches sat in pretty tan rows. The view reminded me of Europe, its bakeries and train station snack bars.
After waiting for several minutes, I pointed to one of the turkey sandwiches. The bread looked delicious, with its crisp crust and spongy interior. The woman asked if I wanted it toasted and I said no, I’ll do it at home. The privilege of the non-office worker.
At home I placed the sandwich in the toaster oven, then I removed it and took a large bite. The top was warm, but some of the contents – the tomato and turkey – were cold. Why would a recently made sandwich be cold? Taking it apart, I examined the bread. It was not fluffy and fresh; it was crumbly and old. I wondered if it had sat in a refrigerator overnight. But even straight from the oven it would not have been close – in consistency or taste – to a French baguette.
Fort Lauderdale may at times look like a big, sophisticated city – but it’s not there yet.
The news that France has banned unvaccinated American travelers raises the question: How many unvaccinated Americans have passports?
Sunday at a luncheon I was seated next to a financial advisor who I’d been told had voted for Trump. Great, I thought, but it turned out we had identical complaints about the biases in American society today, how every element of it now – from media to comedy – leans one way or the other. And it occurred to me that Americans of different political stripes, perhaps even the majority of the population, could find common ground these days through their mutual disgust with the politicization of everything.
Yesterday was a tough day to be an American. Yet in the evening, after watching the network news, I switched to the BBC, which was showing the Pentagon news conference. Marine Corps General Kenneth F. McKenzie Jr., commander of the U.S. Central Command, answered questions remotely, and he was so straightforward, never dodging or obfuscating, speaking plainly and honestly, that it was clear he saw the media not as adversaries but as compatriots, people who shared similar beliefs and values and – yesterday – pain. It was one of the finest displays I’ve seen not just of military openness but of American democracy.
I recently came across this description of a writing workshop:
"This creative nonfiction workshop will focus on reading the self, yourself, as a subject of inquiry. Of the myriad ways this could be done, we’ll spend most of our time talking about tense; perspective (first, second, third); and the aesthetics of difference, for example, race, sex, gender, class, etc., without limitation to politically, biologically, or medically differentiated or legible subject positions. We’ll focus on mining interiority alongside our relations to other living people, things, and objects towards both narrative and non-narrative exegesis of the self. ..."
Apparently writing clear, lucid sentences won't be on the syllabus.