A Little Malaise

Ibis at Mount Dora, Florida

My cell phone just may have given up the ghost. It’s been a little temperamental for months-- ever since I dropped the charging end of it into a bowl of salsa. (That’s a different story.) Sometimes the phone is willing to be charged….other times, no.  I’ve just been hoping that I could make it back to the U.S. before it died forever. 

Mississippi River running high through Memphis

Storm clouds chasing through Alabama

Well, the phone did make it back to the U.S. Survived through Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, and into Missouri and then……..two weeks ago, while still in Missouri, it stopped taking any charge at all. So, a week ago, after we got to Duluth, we left my phone at one of those high techy electronic fix-it places staffed by guys wearing thoughtful dark-rimmed glasses who are younger than my children. Demoralizing. These are the new Ph.Ds’s of this world.

Country roads through northern Mississippi

Floods along Missouri River

So, there I was, traveling north through Iowa and Minnesota, without my phone. No email, no texting with my children and friends, no Google maps for navigation (I used Carl’s phone for that), no address book, no access to my doctor’s office, my Hennepin County library card, GoodReads where I keep track of the books I read and write reviews on them, my appointment calendar (when is my first doctor appointment anyhow? and whose birthday comes up next?), my alarm clock that reminds me it’s time to take my medicine, Facebook, my list of “things to look for when I get to Minnesota,” and no googling things like “I wonder if, when, where, who, what or why” such and such is. 

Sand bags in front of stores, Hannibal, MO

No access to a raft of passwords, no follow up on political events and commentary, no searching for “the best place to eat” in Hannibal, MO, no researching about how the current spring flooding on the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers compares with previous years. But, all of that wasn’t so bad. It’s a pretty drive, especially when one avoids the freeways which we were pretty good at doing.

Missouri flooding. Can't plant here. 

Now here I come to the guts of this tale. Getting back to Minnesota is always an exciting time for me. The comfort of seeing familiar places and people…it just feels good, for the most part. I’ve noticed, however, a spate of malaise of late. A bit of a dark shadow passing across my eyes. It’s really hard to say why this is so. Besides the loss of my phone, there are some contenders for responsibility. For one, it’s a bit of an adjustment to come from islands where people live more minimalistic lives, to the U.S. where we are surrounded by powerful interests, competing commerce, products, billboards, three dozen varieties of tomato sauce, and things, things and more things. Our wealth is obscene by comparison.

Iowa backroads

 For another, signs of climate change have been appearing all along the way. We have seen significant flooding nearly everywhere. It’s not unusual to see flooding along the Mississippi in the spring, of course, but this year seemed exceptionally wet. Mud slides along country roads, miles of inundated fields that could not be planted, even in Missouri where the planting season should be many weeks ahead of Minnesota, the corn was puny and patchy and I am referring to that old farmer’s phrase that suggests that “corn be knee-high by the 4th (of July)” Exceptionally cold days in Minnesota. Frost warnings in northern Minnesota well into June. 

Hannibal, MO. Train crept along over rails. Took half hour for train to pass

Weather extremes. We watched the first freight train creep through Hannibal, MO after the flood waters had receded a bit. The steel rails on the tracks were all that was visible above the flood water. Eerie. Last week there was 7 inches of rain in southern Minnesota in one dump. Highway 52 had to be closed. Heat warnings were posted across Germany and Paris. I think about the impact of climate change on our world a fair bit. We live on our planet within narrow parameters of weather and climate. Certainly enough concerns there to contribute to a level of malaise. When the coastal lands are under water and we can no longer grow root vegetables that like cooler weather, we’ll be hurting. 

Overlooking Mississippi River flood plain

Another possibility contributing to malaise. In southeastern Minnesota, I saw five of my six siblings. (I visited with the sixth sibling while in Florida). It seems to me that nothing highlights the changes that come with aging more than having been absent from loved ones for a while. 

Approaching Mississippi, southern Houston Co, MN

Aging is not a kind mother. She takes our skin that was once so taut and supple and morphs it into a less familiar body covering of wrinkles, skin tags, spots and sometimes cancer. I have certainly seen those things on myself. And all of that energy that we once had to corral small children at the same time that we gardened, cooked, cleaned, ran errands—I remember that person but could never replicate even one of those busy days now. Aging attacks some of us cruelly, even unfairly I say…..takes away abilities we took for granted such as sight, balance, memories.  

Sunset in Iowa

So, to what do I credit the malaise? Is it the loss of my cell phone?  Is it the stark disparity between the wealth of this country and so many poor places of the world? Is it global warming? Or is it coming face to face with how I and everyone I care about has aged since my last visit? The story we are told by the Ph.Ds at the techy place is that my phone will be fixed and returned to me today. Shame on me if the malaise disappears with the arrival of my cell phone.