INSIDE OLLI   -  
Information about Who Is Who and 
What Is Going On at Our OLLI Program        

Recovery from the Pandemic has been slow    -   Photo by Weebly.com                                    

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The Inevitability of Destiny
​(as seen in August 2023)
by  Elsa Fernandez

​These last six months have been painful in many ways. I wonder if the stream of negative news, reminders of how fragile our lives are, will ever change trajectory.
 
I read again what Kathy had written recently about how the post Covid financial impact and business slowdown had altered our City, affecting our lives in many ways. I started worrying—will OLLI survive the new environment? How will I survive these changes?
 
I don't remember having discussions with other OLLI students . . . we carried on blithely, as best we could. Then Kathy's serious observations brought reality home.
 
Right here, in our beloved City, recovery from the Pandemic has been slow with a devastating financial impact—very evident in the Downtown and Financial District areas with business and retail closures, and the megalomaniac decisions by certain oddball tycoons that exacerbated things.
 
In February, we saw a devastating disaster occur—an earthquake in Turkiye. That death toll is a fluid number and continues to climb upward of 50,000.
 
In August, we were saddened with the alarming news that wildfires had consumed much of the island of Maui and smaller areas on the Big Island. An estimated 93 people died and the death toll will go up, with hundreds unaccounted for. The Hawaiian Islands have been a frequent, loved vacation destination for Californians.  San Francisco's Mayor was on a personal trip to Maui, when the wildfires broke out and safely evacuated to Honolulu.
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Aw shucks, Mayor Breed . . . bad luck!

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Today, I drilled down into some unpleasant statistics about our City:
 
*Our SF Budget projected shortfall for this fiscal year (FY 2023-24) is forecasted at $780 million. (SF Standard, May 31, 2023)
 
*On any given night, 7,800 individuals in San Francisco are homeless (physical count of In-Shelters and On-Streets). Next count scheduled in 2024. (SF Standard, 2022)
 
*And, in our Golden State, the homeless population is now estimated at 161,548. (Department of Homelessness and Supportive Housing (HSH), 2022 Point in Time Report)
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Can't be blithe around realities like this anymore. This impacts us all.
 
I read a New York Times article last week, on the hundreds of children in Ukraine—who have lost parents, siblings, and friends. An international aid group is helping to counsel these children how to cope. I continued reading when the next lines stopped me. Not wanting to read a word more, I cried. That last sentence saddened me intensely—and I wonder if the young man would ever get over his loss.
 
Vlad, the teenager interviewed, offered a realistic summary: “War is a waste of everything.” But it hurt my soul, to hear what he said next—the thing he missed most was "the sound of his dad stirring sugar into his morning tea." The poignancy made it too painful to read on. If I couldn't face the pain that the young teenage boy would face going forward, how do we expect him to handle it.
 
Will we ever see the San Francisco that we knew and loved, again? The way it used to be? Not the ghost town it is today. Maybe? I find myself trying to remember how happy we were living here—the Hare Krishnas banging away, the gripman going crazy ringing his cable car bell, the exotic smell of cannabis wafting around occasionally (breathe deep folks . . . this is a freebie!), the hordes of women with their Nordstrom and Macy's shopping bags on Black Friday! How much longer can the politicians blame "it's the economy, stupid.” Nordstrom departs from its Market Street location soon and Macy's is hanging on by its fingernails. Even the Gap and Old Navy—both homegrown retailers that were globally successful, are shuttering stores.

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I'd give my right arm for the continuum of the giddy madness of San Francisco five years ago! But I believe it's still a wondrous place and I'm lucky to be living here. And, I cannot continue being negative on what's happening. Friends from New York and Florida call me to (gleefully) commiserate on SF's current financial struggles. Why do they dislike this City? My mind is screaming a rude response—“Dude . . . you have people sleeping on the sidewalks outside hotels in a five block radius and they're not tourists; you have an idiot Governor in Florida who peevishly takes apart the vastly profitable financial arrangement that Disney had with Fort Lauderdale, for what? To propagate his Woke mantra."
 
I'm proud of my State, that we generously tighten our belts and send out teams of Search and Rescue Firemen when disaster strikes somewhere around the globe. California sent teams to Turkiye and there are probably several strong, experienced firefighter teams arriving right now at Kahului Airport on Maui. Mahalo and Aloha Nui Loa to all you beautiful guys!
 
What can I say? Things are getting better. My sweet feller got us tickets to An Evening with Jane Goodall at Golden Gate Theater on September 15th. Now, that's a great start to the holidays! Going to the theater on the arm of a 6'4" gray-haired hottie (wonderfully my age!) with delectable long legs!!! Yay—I dared myself to say that!
 
Let's all go maniacally crazy and write our hearts out in the next four months. It will tell the true story. And that helps us see the joys of the positive side of life.

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​​Elsa Fernandez grew up in Asia. She has lived in San Francisco since 1970 and never gets tired of this lovely city. She has travelled the world and still gets excited flying back home and to finally land at SFO. Her family is scattered around the world—India, Australia, Dubai, England, Ireland and Argentina. She is a political junkie and majored in Journalism and Political Science. She loves music and plays the piano quite well (one of her dreams was to own a piano bar in upcountry Maui . . . she would probably call it the Maui Moon!). Writing poetry is an emotional outlet for her.

Other works in this issue:
Poetry:
​Two Poems:  ​Playdate With Layla, and
​ Unexpected Lessons

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