My Retirement Diary 2026 July-December
My Retirement Diary 2026 Jul-Dec, 2026 Jan-Jun, 2025, 2024, 2023
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August 13-30, 2026
Home Renovation
We are nearing the end of the first phase of our home renovation. By that I mean the rough carpentry, HVAC, plumbing, and electrical have all been finished and the next step is the city inspections. Once those are passed, the wall cavities and rood get filled with spray foam insulation, then the blue board goes up and we move on to finish work — cabinetry, bathroom fixtures and tiles, flooring, vanities, a million details, then painting, installation of chandeliers, then, finishing the floors and, maybe, we’re done. This is a nearly all-consuming project, more than I had expected. But, as I said before, no one should shed a tear for me, as this is an entirely self-inflicted injury on the 1%.
Living in the house with all the dust and dirt has been a bit of an issue. I sleep in the house about three or four days a week and then live in Scituate, Massachusetts, at Rest-Haven with Gail, the other days. The sunrises and sunsets at Egypt Beach have been quite beautiful, and the neighborhood is very quiet, especially compared to Somerville.
I found this skull on Egypt Beach. Per Gemini and Claude, it is likely an Atlantic bonito, False Albacore, or a juvenile tuna.
We saw a seal off Egypt Beach, 4 days in a row – about 100 yards off shore. F, Gail’s older brother, who is an ichthyologist, said the presence of a lone seal is a reasonable indicator there was not a shark in the area, or the seal would have left.
This coming week we are going to move into our neighbors’ (N & K) home, as they will be away for three or four months. That will make our living situation so much easier and more pleasant.
A Small Adventure
Gail has long had an interest in “Persian” rugs, and has acquired six over the years; Tibetan, Chinese, Joshegan, Keshan, Gabbeh, Isfahan, the later 4 are from Iran. It’s an obsession she inherited from her father. We’ve taken this opportunity, of having to empty the house, to have the rugs cleaned and repaired. After they had been cleaned and we visited the Bon Ton Rug Cleansers to decide which should be repaired. Bon Ton is a family-owned business in Watertown, Massachusetts, run by the same family for four generations, situated in the same location since their founding in 1901. I talking with the owner and walking around the facility. It was a lot of fun, and we learned a bit about the rugs we own — what was worth repairing and what was not.
Theater
Per wikipedia:
Rhinoceros (French: Rhinocéros) is a play by playwright Eugène Ionesco, written in 1959. …Over the course of three acts, the inhabitants of a small, provincial French town turn into rhinoceroses; ultimately the only human who does not succumb to this mass metamorphosis is the central character, Bérenger, a flustered everyman figure who is initially criticized in the play for his drinking, tardiness, and slovenly lifestyle and then, later, for his increasing paranoia and obsession with the rhinoceroses. The play is often read as a response to and criticism of the sudden upsurge of Fascism and Nazism during the events preceding World War II, and explores the themes of conformity, culture, fascism, responsibility, logic, mass movements, mob mentality, philosophy and morality.
The lead actors, Paul Giamatti and John Turturro, were superb. The first act is humorous and ends with the character played by Paul Giamatti evolving into a rhinoceros: the transition, which utilized neither props nor a costume change, was absolutely hysterical. The second act is much more serious, as an increasing number of townspeople choose to become rhinoceroses. In the final scene, the lone surviving human, played by John Turturro, struggles with being unlike everyone else, tries to transform into a rhinoceros, finds he is unable to do so, decides he must save humanity, picks up a gun, and the play ends with the line, “I am not capitulating!”
Given today’s political climate in America — the gradual evolution of the Tea Party into MAGA maniacs, authoritarianism, and Trump’s fascist policies, with his cult following — the choice of the play was clearly intended to send a message.
I assume it’s going to Broadway, but I don’t know that for a fact.
E & P Wedding in North Conway, NH
We attended a family wedding near North Conway, New Hampshire — a reception Friday evening, the wedding and wedding party Saturday evening, and brunch Sunday morning. Our kids, Calder and Sierra, came back without their spouses or the grandkids to attend. We had a three-hour drive from the airport to the wedding venue, so, as Gail said, they were “trapped” in the car with us – so we could talk to them. One/only point of drama was that Sierra was trying to decide whether to take a new job; she had multiple phone calls with people from her current company and the prospective one — counteroffers and the like. It engendered quite a bit of anxiety, but in the end she decide to stay with her Meta and I think was the right decision for her. She join Facebook essentially as a runner and, over the course of a few years, worked her way up the hierarchy to quite a high level – totally impressive. She’s now trying to balance being a new mother while she and her husband, C maintain two professional careers. Although this is a lot easier today than it was when Gail and I had kids (there was no parental leave; companies expected you to return to work the day after your child was born; daycare was just getting started, etc…), it is so frustrating that society still has not figured how to make being a parent of young children easier while also pursuing a career.
My granddaughter had her 3rd birthday so Gail and I recorded ourselves reading two kids books. We will give her the recordings and the books when I visit her at the end of the month. Hopefully she will listen to them at least twice, and they will be available for the other grandkids.
I think that is enough for now.
August 18, 2026
I was not going to write about this neurology visit in my online diary, but my wife tells me I should. So here we go:
I just got done with my Zoom appointment with a neurologist today. I had asked to meet with a neurologist (nine months ago) because my cardiologist had told me that I would ultimately need open heart surgery to replace my aortic valve (aortic insufficiency), unless the technology progresses sufficiently so that the procedure could be done transcutaneously (through an artery). I was aware that open heart surgery results in some decreased cognitive function, which can be acute and severe, like a stroke that occurs during the procedure, or more subtle, and would be expected to resolve with time.
The reason I wanted to see the neurologist is that if my cognitive function was decreasing rapidly at the time I required open heart surgery, I might decide to decline the surgery.
Apparently, I correctly answered all of his test questions, with the exception that I did not recall one of the two objects he presented to me early in the visit. When he told me what the object was, I immediately recalled the question he had asked about it. This memory deficit is a very typical manifestation of my decreased short-term memory, and is the reason I consulted the neurologist.
The bottom line is that my cognitive function is no worse than anybody else my age, and probably better than most. The neurologist did not feel additional testing was needed, but offered to do additional testing if I felt it was necessary or would be reassuring.
Given my nihilistic approach to medicine, and the relative ineffectiveness of most treatments for mild cognitive impairment and dementia, I told him that if I noticed a precipitous change in my cognitive function, I would try to schedule a follow-up visit — although he may retire before then.
August 3-12, 2026
The Odyssey, Again
I saw the movie The Odyssey for a second time, this time in a digital IMAX theater. I wanted to see whether or not the IMAX made any difference, and, as I have discussed previously, I am a bit obsessed with The Odyssey. In my opinion, IMAX did not make it a better movie. What I learned watching the movie a second time was that Christopher Nolan created a parable for today’s political events. I was clued into this by Ezra Klein’s August 2, 2026 essay, “Christopher Nolan’s Trojan Horse,” which is worth reading before you see the movie. In Nolan’s The Odyssey, society had ceased to abide by xenia—the Greek social rule: be kind to strangers, treat them as you would like to be treated. This is manifested by the Greeks’ destruction of Troy and its people, and the suitors’ occupation of Penelope and Odysseus’ palace. Because the Greeks were no longer abiding by xenia, Greek society was crumbling.
Spoiler alert: In the last scene of Nolan’s movie—a construction that did not occur in Homer’s poem—the film reveals that the Greeks are the much-feared “invaders from the sea,” and King Odysseus and Queen Penelope sail off into the sunset to allow the next generation, their son Telemachus, to reestablish xenia throughout the land.
In parallel, a significant fraction of Americans and its leaders have forsaken the historic underpinnings of American society: truth, morality, science, tolerance, public service, and the Constitution, aggressively replacing them with lies, immorality, wanton ignorance, bigotry, kleptocracy, and lawlessness.
In consequence, America, once revered by people around the world as the shining city on a hill (Matthew 5:14), has committed geopolitical suicide and turned off its light as the beacon of freedom in the world.
Social
Over the past nine days, two of my retiree brunch groups met and my MIT Club of Boston cycling group rode; all the events were successful.
Gail returned from a week visiting her sisters, S and C, at S’s Chautauqua home. While there, she attended several lectures at the Chautauqua Institution. The week’s theme was ‘The US at 250,’ featuring talks on the Constitution and the Founding Fathers. I am hoping Gail and I can go together next year during the week they host “The US at 250” again.
Seeing the recent photos of my grandkids, and how much they have grown, I wish I could arrange to see them sooner than my planned trip to SF in late September. Unfortunately, that won’t be possible.
Home Renovations
Home renovations are progressing nicely. The new vinyl siding is going up, the HVAC is being installed, the electrical work will likely begin tomorrow, and the plumbing will start shortly. Of course, it’s costing much more than we had hoped, but that’s what happens in every construction project.
The Dilemma: Living in a Dirty Home in an Exciting Community or a Clean Home in a Too-Quiet Community.
The site has gotten too dirty for Gail to live in. I also find the dirt difficult, but I have chosen to live in the middle of a construction site—mostly on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, as I have a construction meetings on Tuesday morning, my retiree group on Wednesday morning and my cycling group on Thursday morning. Commuting from Rest-Haven in Scituate, where Gail is staying, to home can take two hours if one gets caught in rush-hour traffic, otherwise, it’s about 75 minutes.
Scituate definitely has its appeal—it is quiet, clean, and near the beach. But I find it to be insufficiently stimulating and occasionally boring; there simply isn’t much to do. I can cycle, as I left my old road bike in Rest-Haven, but I would be riding in traffic, albeit not much traffic, and some of the cycling by the ocean is beautiful. But there is less shade on that oceanside ride than on my Minuteman Bike Way ride which is 75% in the shade and shade matters when the temperature exceeds 80 degrees. I bring my Mac Mini computer down to Scituate, and I have left a monitor, keyboard, and mouse in Rest-Haven. Sometimes I will work on the computer in the house, other times on the porch. Nevertheless, other than walking to the beach and working on my computer, there isn’t much for me to do.
The level of dirt in my Somerville home varies with the type of construction. Whenever drywall/sheetrock is cut, it gets very dirty for 2-3 days until all the dirt settles out of the air. This is not to say that the dirt is not a problem; it is. Just look at my shoes in the photograph; the shoes have been sitting under a bench in my living room unused for a few weeks.
My presence onsite is frequently helpful as questions arise that need to be answered in real time.
The living room is used to stage supplies needed for the construction, and the entire backyard is filled with lumber, as is half the driveway, while the other half contains the dumpster.
I can’t charge my car in the driveway charger, but fortunately there is a local Tesla charging station within a mile and a half of the house.
The best thing about being in my home is that I have access to Davis Square. As you can see in the photo above, which was taken at about the same time as the photo Gail took in Rest-Haven, there’s a lot of activity in Davis Square. Last night, on a whim, I decided to walk into the square to get an ice cream, a slice of pizza, and killed an hour walking around, people watching, eating and perusing social media on my phone. Tonight, I had dinner at the Burren where there was live music (photo below) – it was delightful. I apologize for the poor sound quality, but live, it was perfect bar music. The Burren front room is always open to musicians who want to drop-in.
But the dirt is problematic, and being away from Gail half the time is problematic, even though we talk at least once or twice a day. In about three weeks, things will get better as one of our neighbors is leaving for three months and graciously allowed us to stay in their home while they’re gone. That will make things a lot better, for both Gail and me.
addendum added 8/17/2026:
I forgot to mention that one of the most significant differences between living in Scituate and living in Somerville is that in Scituate one needs to get into the car to go anywhere, whereas in Somerville, everything is within walking distance of our home.
Tilting at (Political) Windmills
Optimistically ignoring our political reality, I continue my efforts to help resurrect democracy in America. Most recently I came up with this graphic that I use repeatedly on social media whenever somebody complains that the Democrats have moved too far left and this is giving an opening to the Republicans. If you agree, feel free to click on the graphic to obtain a full size image, and post it to your social media circle. We must counter the Trump propaganda machine at every opportunity — otherwise the propaganda will work.
I post this graphic with some variation of a statement:
Polling data show that progressive policies are well-aligned with the goals of the majority of Americans.
For self-serving reasons, the fear-mongering, Trumplican propaganda machine is working hard to hide this truth from American voters.
July 23 – August 2, 2026
Social
On the social front, Gail and I have spent a lot of time together. Although I’m living in our home renovation construction zone Monday through Thursday, I move down to Scituate to join Gail Thursday afternoon after my cycling group, and remain there through Sunday. Last weekend in Scituate was gorgeous, temperature was perfect, the ocean wasn’t cold – it couldn’t have been better.
Yesterday, we went down to Scituate for just the day. I spent the vast majority of my time working on the new essay I have alluded to previously. It is coming along slowly, but I enjoy the process once I clear the procrastination hurdle and actually sit down to write.
When we returned from Scituate, I dropped Gail off at a local hotel in Central Square, Cambridge where she is staying, and I went to our Somerville construction site, with Mason and Rocket.
Gail left today to visit her sister (S) in Chautauqua, NY, along with C, another sister. She will return at the end of the week.
I should mention that Gail was also gone on a business trip to Norfolk, Virginia for three days visiting a 200 acre garden that she and her boss ( ObjectIdea ) are helping to redesign. The photos she showed me of the facility are very impressive.
One day this past week, I went to my favorite local bar, The Burren, to have dinner and watch “Wagner and Vino.” In looking over my prior entries, I discovered that I attended The Burren’s lunchtime “Opera on Tap Boston” in December 2025. At “Wagner and Vino” there was an electric organ/piano player and a series of opera singers. All but one were sopranos who sang in German, and one male who sang in English. The sopranos all sounded identical to me, each technically proficient and beautiful, but I couldn’t distinguish between them in terms of quality. That’s my deficiency, not theirs. I wish I had learned more about music. It is amazing to me that a person can control his or her voice with such precision.
After having had a delightful dinner and listening to about a half dozen sopranos and one male singer, I had my fill and left. I was hoping that they might perform “Glitter and Be Gay” from Leonard Bernstein’s Candide, but that did not happen.
As I recall, when I was a high school senior, I took my girlfriend (A), my closest male friend (B), and his girlfriend (S) to see Candide on Broadway. I paid for the tickets out of the wages I earned caddying. After the theater, I took them to a restaurant where we had a meat fondue followed by a chocolate fondue, and maybe something else. Obviously, by the time I was a high school senior, I had already adopted my mother’s love for the magic of live theater.
This week I met KS. I took a class about physics that he taught at the Tufts Learning and Retirement (OLLI) program. When he saw my most recent essay, The Graph That Makes 99.9999% of Americans Disappear, he reached out to me and suggested we get together. We met at a local café in Porter Square we talked politics/morality for about 90 minutes. It was a lot of fun.
As had occurred to me after prior intellectual interactions, I found myself wishing I had framed my points differently, and presented stronger counterarguments—live debate is not my strong suit. I much prefer the written media, where I have the luxury to research, iterate, and refine my logic before making my thoughts known to the public. I am envious of those who have the skill to debate orally.
Home Renovations
There has been a lot going on regarding the home renovations.
Our structural engineer (H) completed a site visit and was generally satisfied with the progress. There were a few outstanding details to resolve, and she provided instructions to our general contractor. Fortunately, she approved my modifications to support the hammock on the deck. Having the hammock strung between the deck’s two vertical posts works well for me: I can remain in the hammock during a rain, and unlike the yard location, where the hammock strung between a tree and the deck, the deck configuration remains shaded from the afternoon sun. Of course, come the colder weather, I’ll prefer the sunny location.
We had an on-site meeting with our interior decorator and her assistant regarding tile selections. Her aesthetic is more traditional than mine. Yesterday we visited a tile showroom and selected the final materials.
Gail agreed to my 3rd floor bathroom tile layout, which I think is cool, see this. Of course, the installation is contingent on final installation cost.
The major architectural event of the week was cutting the atrium opening in the 3rd floor to allow natural light to cascade down into the main stairwell. Gail and I had enjoyed having a lot of light at this location, as there was a skylight above the staircase prior to our renovations, and I was eager to see how the lighting in this new configuration would look.
When we created the renovation plans with our architect, W, I had opposed the opening because I didn’t want to sacrifice usable real estate, and Gail felt that opening a hole in the 3rd floor would add visual interest. Over time, our positions completely flipped.
It wasn’t until this week that the hole actually got cut in the 3rd floor.
Gail is adamant that she wants the extra real estate, but my take is that the hole adds a dramatic element and we don’t need the real estate. Ultimately, I lost this debate. To compensate for losing the overhead light-well, I will add clerestory windows on the wall adjacent to the staircase. And of course we need to determine the financial ramification before any additional changes are made.
An Emotional Toll
It has become increasingly clear to me that this home renovation is taking an emotional toll on me. As I have previously mentioned, I stay close to the house as issues come up on a near daily basis, and I definitely want this project finished as expeditiously as possible.
As it is, the project has been immensely disruptive to both Gail’s life and mine, and the sooner it reaches completion, the better. While the final result will undoubtedly be lovely, if given the choice, and with the benefit of hindsight, I am not certain either of us would undertake a renovation of this scale.
Gail has been doing a lot of travel and (mostly) living in Scituate because of the renovation. As a result, I’ve had to pause social engagements that involve both of us getting together with others. That should resolve next month, as our neighbors (K and N) are moving to Arizona for three months and have magnanimously offered their apartment to us while they are away.
July 7 – 22, 2026
Social
During these past two weeks, my ReeBrunch group and my REMBrunch group met in a local cafe. These are distinct groups: six people attended the ReeBrunch group and four attended REMBrunch. The first is coed, and the second is all men.
The REMBrunch group’s conversation was mostly limited to my obsession about inequity in America, and the recent essay I published, “The Graph That Makes 99.9999% of Americans Disappear,” which I’ll discuss below. Everybody participated in the conversation and nobody appeared bored; nevertheless I wonder if I should have attempted to steer the conversation away from me/inequity and try to draw out a topic from one of the others. This group definitely likes talking about politics, but I’ll try to be more cognizant of this in the future.
On Thursday, July 9, seven people attended my weekly MIT Club of Boston Thursday cycling group, typically 3-10 people attend the event. I had to cancel the session scheduled for July 16th because of poor air quality – a result of the fires in the upper Midwest and Canada. Today, July 23, is a beautiful day, and I will ride over there in about two hours for today’s ride. Hopefully the attendance will be good.
Gail went to San Francisco from July 10th through the 19th to help Sierra care for Banks while Chris and Calder went on a three-day golf jaunt—an excursion scheduled long before Banks’s birth.
The Odyssey, the movie
As I have mentioned more than once in this blog, I am somewhat obsessed with Homer’s Odyssey. I listened to Emily Wilson’s translation twice, once while doing my cross country solo drive (A Solo Road Trip: 7,226 miles, in a Tesla, over 16 days, with two dogs). In preparation for seeing Christopher Nolan’s movie, I listened to it for a third time.
I really love the story, and every time I listen to it, I understand nuances and events more clearly. Calder asked me why I’ve listened to it thrice and I explained that it is a magnificent story, and it laid the groundwork for many of today’s most famous stories; it’s a love story, a homecoming story, a sci-fi story with gods and monsters, a tale about a father and son, a story about leadership, morality, regrets, hospitality (xenia,) cunning and creative thinking in a crisis, fate vs free will, and perseverance.
Gail purchased two tickets for us to see the Odyssey at a The Somerville Theater. On the day of the movie, Gail decided that there was too much dust in our house and she did not want to live in a construction zone, so she moved down to Rest-Haven, the Whoriskey family “cottage” in Scituate, MA, while I remain in Somerville.
I invited our neighbor, M, to join me. It’s interesting that several of M’s friends declined to see the movie as they thought it was going to be too violent. That too was a concern of mine based on the previews I saw; but once the reviews came out and implied that there was no gratuitous violence and the movie had a strong emotional component, I was eager to see the movie. I wanted to see it in IMAX format, but that was less convenient than seeing it in 70 mm (non-IMAX) format at a theater that was within walking distance.
We both thoroughly enjoyed this nearly three hour movie and at no point did either of us entertain leaving the movie, which I do frequently when I do not enjoy a movie. When I choose to leave a on-going movie, I tend to wander into other auditoriums in the same venue until I find I movie I enjoy (or can tolerate) while I wait for Gail’s movie to end.
Politics
I posted a short essay on my blog, initially titled “Something is Dreadfully Wrong with America.” The next day I changed the title to “The Graph That Makes 99.9999% of Americans Disappear.” The essay evolve while I was working on a much larger essay, which I have been working on, irregularly and for some time, addressing the adverse impact of America’s inequity problem on our democracy; and my solution to that problem. I’m not going to elaborate on that subject here – hopefully that essay will eventually see the light of day.
This new essay, “The Graph That Makes 99.9999% of Americans Disappear,” which is less than 700 words, includes a simple table that viscerally illustrates the magnitude of America’s fiscal inequity across our economic hierarchy. As shown in the table below, for every $1 of wealth owned by the average family in America’s bottom 50%, the average family in the higher income tiers own between $150 to $15,000,000. Yikes!
I am very happy with the way that essay turned out – it is brief and the table presents the essay’s conclusion in a format that most people should be able to comprehend.
I have received email comments from several people who have expressed their surprise about the disparity in the fiscal inequity in American, and my social media postings have engendered some likes and repostings – which made me happy. I intend to continue promoting the essay on social media information a while.
Alaska
For the last decade or so, Gail and I have rented a house in a desirable venue with three other couples who were doing Vanderbilt’s internship/residency in 1985/86 with me. This is the group with whom we recently traveled to Italy in June.
The group has decided that our next trip should be in the summer of 2027 or 2028 to Alaska. As I have been to Alaska three times, I have been tasked with organizing the itinerary. Planning trips like this is not my preferred activity. When I travel on my own, I wing it. I would rather somebody else plan/organize the trip, and all I need to do is say “yes” and go along with the proffered agenda.
While it is entirely rational that I should be the one to organize this trip, as others have organized our other trips, this is somewhat outside of my skill set, but I will do my best.
I have spent a fair amount of time researching the options, using AI as the initial step and investigating websites subsequently. I’ve sent out a fair number of emails, but, to date, have had only one useful interaction with a trip organizer. I need to get my act together and follow up with some of the other vendors/companies that arrange trips to Alaska.
One challenge I face is that people in our group have a range of preferences: some do not want to get on small plane, some get motion sick, some want less physical activity, some want more, etc. I will try to create an agenda that has multiple options so people can choose an activity that aligns with their proclivities.
Originally I was hoping to get a big house in Seward or Homer, Alaska, and use that as our home base, from which we visit other venues. That had been the format of our prior trips and I really enjoyed the random and personal interaction that arise from living with a group of people.
My first trip to Alaska occurred during the summer of 1980, after my first year of medical school, when EM (also medical student) and I hitchhiked from Haines, Alaska, through western Canada, to Dawson City Canada on the Yukon River, to Fairbanks, Kenai Peninsula and then to Anchorage, over the course of six weeks, living out of a two-man tent. Of course, this reconstruction of our Alaska roadtrip is based on my recollection of events that occurred 4 decades ago.
Toward the end of our road trip, we ended up in Homer. EM and I purchased a King Crab from a fisherman on the dock. We then built a fire on the beach and cooked the crab while watching the sun set over the mountains across the bay – it was spectacular; and it was the best king crab I have ever eaten. (Of course, macaroni and cheese is also delicious when you’re out in the mountains.)
After that Alaska road trip, I had a pre-arranged hike trip with Gail (not yet my girlfriend) into Kings Canyon National Park which I almost skipped, see My Engagement Story: “I will call you back”
Home Renovations
Two days ago Gail and I had an 1.5 hour meeting with the general contractor followed immediately by another 1.5 hour meeting with the electrical contractor. We made a lot of progress during these meeting and although there are many unresolved issues, the home renovations are moving forward at a nice clip.
Gail is now residing in Scituate, as the dust and dirt in our Somerville house have become significant. I find it more convenient to remain in our home in Somerville with the dog(s), even while it is under construction, as I can attend my retiree brunch groups and my cycling group, and Somerville is a more entertaining environment than Scituate. I have my computer set up on a bench in my basement where I can work dust free.
Not surprisingly, the renovation is going to cost us more than we budgeted, and we still have a long way to go before it is done, but we will be OK. As I have told my friends, nobody should feel sorry for me—this is clearly a self-inflicted problem of the 1%.
June 26 – July 7, 2026
Theater
Gail and I attended the American Repertory Theater (ART) production of The Black Swan. It is the story of a ballet dancer deeply committed to her art (Swan Lake) and the psychological consequences arising from her obsession. Most people in the audience seemed to enjoy the first act and dislike the second; for me, the reverse was true.
In some ways, this production was a throwback to the ART of two decades ago when ART frequently mounted highly “experimental” productions. Back then, many people, including Gail and me, often thought the ART pushed things too far, and we would walked away from the play confused.
I recall one ART production from that era that featured spectacular visuals; an actor laying on his side, moving his arms and legs as if floating in space; there was a mirror above him at a 45° angle so if the audience looked at the mirror, they saw the reflection of the the man who looked like he was floating in space. But the story was incomprehensible to Gail and me. As we were walking out of the theater, a tall, distinguished looking gentleman was walking directly in front of Gail and me. He dressed and spoke exactly as one would imagine a stereotyped Ivy League Literature Professor. He turned to his wife and said, “I did not understand that production.” I immediately leaned over to Gail and whispered, “If he doesn’t understand it, I don’t feel too bad that I missed the point, too.” Sometime shortly thereafter, Gail and I canceled our season ART subscription for a number of years, as did many other patrons.
While I suspect people who attended The Black Swan and were involved with dance loved the production. But I do not think the production worked for the average audience member. In my opinion, the play’s narrative arc was often too obtuse; there were too many scenes that did not make sense to me. I was unable to weave all the play’s threads into a a whole cloth.
However, in the final scene of the play, the protagonist ballet dancer undergoes a psychological breakdown while dancing the final modern dance – ballet sequence. As her psychological state deteriorates, so too does the choreography evolve in parallel. The choreography and execution were incredible and brought the audience to its feet for a standing ovation. Perhaps the standing ovation is simply a sign of the times—everyone receives a participation trophy, and almost every theatrical production now gets a standing ovation.
Despite my skepticism about this production, I give the American Repertory Theater credit for trying something different. In the last decade, they have been staging far too many “commercial” productions which are obviously intended to be performed on Broadway. I believe academic theater should occasionally push the theatrical envelope, even though most experimental productions will fail more frequently than they succeed. This low success rate is true for most innovative endeavors—most fail, while only a few succeed spectacularly.
Medical
As I have mentioned previously, I have severe aortic insufficiency. I am followed regularly by a cardiologist at Massachusetts General Hospital whose specialty is echocardiography, and I have had an echocardiogram every 6 to 12 months, for well more than a decade. He is watching for the progressive enlargement of the left ventricle (part of the heart that pumps blood to the body,) a decrease in the heart’s ability to pump blood, and enlargement of the aorta where it meets the heart. Any of these would be a demonstration that the heart muscle (or aorta) is beginning to fail and the aortic valve should be replaced. Another indication for surgical intervention would be if I develop symptoms of heart failure, such as shortness of breath with exertion or decreased exercise tolerance.
There are times when I think I have developed shortness of breath with exertion (like rapidly climbing stairs,) but I cannot be certain my clinical situation has changed. Physiologic changes like this happen so gradually that it is sometime difficult to determine if a functional deterioration has occurred, or if it is normal aging. And the lack of a consistent deterioration would not be expected if it was due to organ failure.
In an attempt to obtain an objective and quantitative assessment of my cardiac function, he ordered a cardiopulmonary stress test that will assess the functional limits of my cardiac capacity. That seems like a reasonable diagnostic step. Unfortunately, the soonest the test could be scheduled was three months out. (Yes, the healthcare system is miserably broken at multiple levels.)
At this point in time, replacing my aortic valve will require open-heart surgery, a major intervention that is not to be undertaken lightly. However, I also learned during this visit that clinical trials have begun to assess a new type of aortic valve and procedure that would not require open-heart surgery—where the valve is inserted through the person’s arteries. As these clinical trials have just commenced, it will likely take three years before we know if the transcutaneous option is better than the open heart procedure. And maybe I should volunteer for the clinical trial if it is determined I ultimately need the value replaced. Many will wonder why I would volunteer to be participant a clinical trail. I volunteered to be part of the Moderna Covid clinical trial because, as a physician, I benefited immensely from society’s investment in me, and it only seems reasonable that I owe it to society and the healthcare system to help advance medicine in any way I can; at this point in my life, volunteering to be part of a clinical trial is the only thing I can do to pay back that debt.
Rest-Haven: July 4th and the Mega-Family Semi-Annual Gathering
The week of July 4th is always a major gathering of the Whoriskey clan. We all descend on the ancestral Whoriskey family house in Scituate, Massachusetts, known as Rest-Haven. The property was purchased by Gail’s paternal grandparents in 1922. They refers to the house as a “cottage;” as it has neither insulation, heating, nor air conditioning. It is ideally situated as summer house, located a quarter-mile from Egypt Beach—far enough inland that the ocean storm surge has never reached the house, yet close enough to the beach so that people will walk to the ocean several times a day. Rest-Haven has 24 bed, which are assigned by Gail using a secret algorithm only known to her. Beyond the lucky two dozen who are assigned a particular bed, the less fortunate may choose to sleep on one of the three sofas on the first floor, or in J and J’s house located across the street, or rent an AirBnB, or hotel room. The house was built in 1899 and has a beautiful and functional wraparound porch. There is a hammock in one corner of the covered wraparound porch which is my favorite feature as it catches the cross-breeze from two directions.
Rest-Haven and the kids’ lemonade stand
Drying Towels at Rest-Haven
Sierra rented a 3 bedroom house down the street from Rest-Haven. Sierra, Chris, Banks, Gail, and I stayed in the rental for the week. For two nights, J (Gail’s sister’s youngest son), his wife (M), and a friend (E) also stayed in this house.
During this July 4th week, between two and four dozen people were at Rest-Haven at every moment. The crowd size swelled during dinners hours (maybe 50) and dwindled to about 2 dozen by 10 PM. People come and go constantly, but most choose to hang out on the big wraparound porch, drinking, snacking, chatting, playing with the kids on the double lot, or watching soccer in the outdoor tent (which can comfortably accommodate 15 to 20 chairs plus tables.) We had more children under the age of seven present than I can ever recall; they seemed to be everywhere. I am certain there will be even more kids next year.
It was a joyous gathering, despite the daytime temperatures episodically exceeding 90°F. As occurs during July 4th celebrations across the country, there was far too much food, and although there was plenty of alcohol, nobody went over the top. Usually there is also some pot consumption, but I didn’t see any this year.
The best part of this event is that it creates an opportunity for extended and repeated conversations with family members who do not live locally. As in previous years, we had attendees arrive from Hawaii, Nova Scotia, Montreal, California, Iowa, and Minnesota.
Mason, Rocket (off camera,) and I in a Scituate Harbor coffee shop
Besides spending a fair amount of time setting up the main tent, and continually cleaning up the orphaned cups, plates, and bottles that are inevitably deposited on every horizontal surface, I also had time to sit on the porch chatting and nap in the hammock. I went to the beach a few times (though I don’t swim, as the North Shore water is too cold for me) and we went into Scituate Harbor for a few meals and/or drinks.
Rest-Haven is about family bonding time. I hope Calder, Gaby, Josie, and Noemi will be able to join us next year.
Rest-Haven: Meeting My Grandson
I got to meet Banks, my 10-week-old grandson, for the first time; although there wasn’t much (any) conversation. While Gail can happily care for Banks for an infinite number of hours, 10 or 20 minutes is generally my limit. I think it highly unlikely our initial interaction will have any lasting impact on our relationship. but I know that a bond will build over time as he grows older.
Creating at Rest-Haven
As I have mentioned previously in this diary, I find that if I don’t create things episodically, writings, photos, woodworking, something, I become antsy. Creating is intellectually, artistically challenging, and just plain fun. During this week at Rest-Haven, I set up a small work area on the side porch, an area that remains in the shade and is frequented rarely; I cobbled the workspace together from an unused coffee table and a beach chair. I plugged in my computer and display and spent several hours designing and redesigning a graphic that I intend to use on my blog and social media platforms…
Rest-Haven: Porch Conversations
During these large gatherings, it is common to see five to ten people sitting around the coffee table on the front porch talking. People begin to gather upon awakening, coffee cup and pastry in hand, and watch the sun ascend over the Atlantic Ocean, which is directly in front of the house at the end of the street. This porch gathering hosts a continually evolving cast of characters from sunrise to well past sunset. On occasion, this seating area is empty, but never for long; I would estimate people are sitting on the front porch chatting for all but a few hours of the day.
Rest-Haven’s Front Porch
The conversation ranges widely. This week I was involved in, or overheard people discussing: medical ethics, the morality of saving a toad from being eaten by a garter snake,
Me, the garter snake, and toad (who escaped). The precipitant for our ethics discussion.
national politics (everyone actively despises Trump, even the few family members who vote Republican), careers, moving, transformer neural network architecture, family updates, science, the standard speculation of “when will so-and-so marry so-and-so,” and whether hot dog eating champion Joey Chestnut qualifies as a legitimate athlete. All conversations are genuine and there is never a hint of malice or derision.
I had just joined S, D, B, S, J, and S on the front porch when B asked me to proffer an ethical dilemma for the group to discuss. It turned out that earlier that morning, during my four-mile walk to a Scituate Harbor coffee shop (photo above,) I had posed a hypothetical question to an AI agent.
The medical ethics question I offered the group was as follows:
You are the personal physician to the President of the United States.
Fact A: The President’s policies are directly responsible for the deaths of more than 500,000 children under the age of five.
Fact B: Professional medical ethics and statutory law dictate that a physician must never disclose private patient information to a third party without explicit permission from the patient, except when mandated by law (e.g., child abuse, certain highly contagious diseases).
Factoid C: A recent academic studies predicted that if this President’s policies remain in effect, an additional 14 million people will die by 2030.
Conundrum: You sincerely believe that the information in the President’s medical record has a reasonable probability of adversely impacting his political power, and disclosing the personal health information has the potential to prevent 14 million deaths. Should I disclose the President’s medical record to the public, knowing it will end my medical career and may result in personal bankruptcy or imprisonment?
I would like to believe that I would choose to disclose the President’s medical information to the public, and willingly sacrifice my career if I genuinely believed that action might save 14 million lives.
According to the AI agent, the “correct” answer is to maintain confidentiality and not disclose the President’s medical records.
We had a delightful conversation exploring various nuances.
What would you have done?
Other Social Activities
I had to cancel my June ReeBrunch W-1 gathering because Gail and I were away in Italy; a vacation with a group of friends that was scheduled 1.5 years ago. I also had to cancel my July ReeBrunch W-1 session because of the July 4th family gathering so I could be with my daughter, son-in-law, and grandson who were visiting from California.
I feel really bad that I had to miss consecutive sessions. In the past when I was unable to attend one of my retiree brunch groups I tried to convince the others to meet-up in my absence, but experience has shown never happens.
I also canceled my Thursday cycling group ride on July 2nd.
However, I am pleased to report that on June 25th, we had an excellent turnout of 11 cyclists!
Home Renovation
The home renovations are progressing well. Most of the rough carpentry is finished, and the majority of the new windows have been installed. We can finally get a sense of the interior space, and it is very pleasant. Gail intends to move into Rest-Haven in Scituate for the next several months – maybe until the construction is done, as there is construction dust everywhere.
Because I need to remain physically accessible for on-site construction questions—which arise at least every other day—and I need to attend our weekly home construction meetings at 10 AM on Tuesdays, my retiree brunch groups at 10 AM on Wednesdays, and my cycling group at 10 AM on Thursdays, I am going to stay in our Somerville home during the construction. My plan is to move from room to room so as to stay clear of the active construction zone/debris for as long as I can tolerate it. I will commute down to Scituate on Thursday afternoons and stay with Gail until Monday, provided Gail is residing at Rest-Haven.
Procrastinating on the “Zillionaires vs. Democracy” Essay
I have started working on a new long-form essay tentatively titled, “A Wealth Cap is the Only Way to Preserve Democracy,” or something to that effect. The central thesis argues that the mere existence of zillionaires in America is structurally incompatible with maintaining a democracy meets the needs of the majority of its citizens. I am not going to elaborate on this topic here, as the argument will be made in the essay, but I am kicking myself as I seem to be procrastinating when it comes to finishing the essay.
I have already researched the topic, written ~1,500 words, and have created the graphics, but I have yet to address the counterarguments that will arise from my proposed solution.
I think some of my procrastination is the result of recent social activities. In order to write, I need to sit in front my computer, alone and uninterrupted for at least 2-4 consecutive hours. That opportunity hasn’t presented itself recently, or there was always another priority (like this diary entry.) Maybe a block of time will open up later this week or next, when Gail travels to California to help care for Banks. Or perhaps I am simply experiencing writer’s block.
It was a lovely week.
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My Retirement Diary 2026 Jul-Dec, 2026 Jan-Jun, 2025, 2024, 2023
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