Monthly Archives: January 2012

Any suggestions?

0
Posted by on in Personal goals

Being fairly new on here, my question is- How does one get any comments on this gig?  Many of my friends on my other site say “Word Press sucks, nobody ever bothers to read my posts.”

My take is that it’s a bit like investing money. You can’t just let it sit and expect a magic fortune.

I see there are over 700,000 people here, or some such thing.  So, I will continue to post, and try to vary my subject matter, though photo journeys, to all sorts of places, are my favourite mode.

I am going to boost a couple of earlier posts from my other site, and reorganize them, WP style, to give you an example of what I mean.

Who’s In Charge?

0
Posted by on in Social

I know for sure that the election season has started.  The crazies are trotting out the rumours of Obama being a Muslim (“One of his college classmates even said so!”), wanting to be President-for-Life (That’s one way to lower one’s life expectancy.) and of both Romney and Obama being handpicked by the Club for Growth (Wowabunga!)

People don’t seem to have a hold on their senses, when it comes to dealing with other people or institutions in which a great deal of power is invested, by statute.

In reality, though, those same people who fear “the powerful”, “the rich”. “the liberals”, “the conservatives”, “the Christians”, “the atheists” are not exactly being proactive when it comes to exercising their own power.  Each of us is given strength in at least one key area.  Another writer in Word Press pointed out this morning that we are learning about ourselves, and growing, throughout our lives.  I am still finding out things about myself, at the age of 61.

Today, I was challenged by one reader on another blog site, regarding my Faith.  I was also threatened by another reader on that same blog site, also for mentioning my Faith.  In neither case did I insult or denigrate the other person’s beliefs.  Each of us is responsible for, in charge of, learning the truth for ourselves.

So often, of late, we see people of limited self-awareness and excessive sense of entitlement, imposing themselves into the lives of others.  Ironically,  the post in which I was threatened was written by a friend, who was making that same point.

An example of the above is about to occur on the tiny Dutch-owned Caribbean island of  St. Maarten.  A young woman, with the approval of the Dutch government, set sail alone some two years ago, and has sailed nearly around the world.  As she makes ready to land at St. Maarten and complete her mission, there is word that a grandstanding Dutch school official    plans to have her arrested upon docking, for not keeping up with her studies to his satisfaction, while on her journey.  This has had the effect of causing the young woman, who has bothered no one, to want nothing further to do with the land of her forebears.  She has hinted strongly that she will move elsewhere, to the land where she was actually born.

Who’s in charge?  It seems each person needs to approach this carefully.  There are too many of us, coming from too many backgrounds, with too many genetic makeups, for a “One size must fit all” take on life.  Perhaps the overriding theme of this century will actually be “The Death Throes and Demise of Fundamentalism”.

Triggers

0
Posted by on in Personal goals

I got a form letter from the Bereavement Coordinator of Penny’s hospice, a few days ago.  I wrote back and touched base with him.  It set me to thinking about what triggers thoughts of her, and of us, and how those triggers affect me.

Some of those triggers are:

Sunsets- I went through a period where I would shut the blinds, right before sunset.  Now, I want to leave them open and let it be visible.  We always enjoyed the sunset, no matter where we were.

Couples together- That’s a no-brainer, and the recent series of posts by some of my friends moving in together, planning weddings, even becoming a couple for the first time, actually makes me smile- a lot.  You are going to enjoy one of life’s strongest experiences.

Dachshunds- Our little one kept us amused and feeling loved, for fifteen years.  The dachshunds I have seen lately all act frenetic and happy, just like our “Lady”.

A phone call from our son- This is, naturally, something that raises my spirits.  It’ll be less frequent now.  He is at sea, somewhere in the Persian/Arabian Gulf.

Vegetarian cooking- Penny always had a goal of being a vegetarian and we worked at it, in fits and starts.  I had an almost veggie meal tonight.  Only the cocktail hot dogs interrupted it.

Her photos- I won’t put them away, ever.

I guess the triggers are actually helping me define my spot in the world.

The Dells in My Backyard

2
Posted by on in Hiking and Nature

I am going to translate a photo blog from Xanga, of a natural area near my home.  It is a western segment of Granite Dells, large boulder formations along the valleys of Willow Creek and Granite Creek, on the northern tier of Prescott, AZ.  The Dells extend south, almost to downtown Prescott, west to near Granite Mountain, which predates the Dells by about a million years, north to near the city’s boundary with Chino Valley and east to near Glassford Hill.

I’ve been to most parts of this amazing range of granite boulders.  The area shown below is largely in private hands, and is not on the usual hiker’s route, although cyclists are fond of the Pleasant Valley Drive route, on the south rim of Willow Creek Canyon.

As the weather is much improved here this week, I thought to venture outside and go somewhere which didn’t require use of the car. Between my house and downtown, there lies a segment of Granite Dells which I had not yet explored.  So, off we went, the pink Kodak digital and I.

Here’s the view, once past my back gate.

This great pasture extends from our lot to Willow Creek.

The clientele aren’t impressed by the pasture.

Here is the dry bed of Willow Creek.

Nevertheless, a bridge goes over it, just in case.

To the north, lies Pioneer Park.

Here are several shots of the Dells, in the area of Willow Creek Canyon.

 

 

 

At the end of the public road, there was the Yellow Brick Road, with no Munchkins,

but a playful puppy.

 

The puppy really didn’t want to be photographed.

Going back, I focused my attention a bit more on the short, but scenic Willow Creek Canyon.

 

 

Lastly, a lone sapling asked:  “Who did this to me?”

There is much to astonish, out one’s back gate!

On Oracle Road

2
Posted by on in Social

This is a repost from Xanga, but it expresses my feelings about what went down a year ago, in Tucson.  My site, my rules.

A year has now come and gone.  The Tucson shooting rampage has had its predictable First Anniversary media blitz.   Congresswoman Giffords is on the road to recovery, and may well run for reelection.  Her husband is at her side, as he has been, to the extent possible, all along.  The families of those killed grieve on and virtually all are giving back to the community which stood by them.  The President is silent, and suitably so.  He needs to stay in the background for this one.  The wounded progress and live their lives in the way that best suits each of them.

I read through the entire newspaper segment on how each of them are doing.  It is a low day for me, for obvious reasons- a trigger, but I made it through, just because I could.

The media did not have to look far to find a gadfly to the hoopla.  He is George Morris, widower of one of the slaying victims.  He blames Mark Kelly for his wife’s death, for not having provided security on that day.  I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Morris.  I know what it’s like to have lost a soul mate.  Contrary to your understanding, though, let me point out something:  The spouse of a congressperson is not  who provides security at congressional events.  My Congressman, Paul Gosar, provides his own security, through his office budget.  I believe it’s the same across the institution.  Ms. Giffords most likely had no idea she would be attacked at a minimall.

He also faults Kelly for “going off into space”, while his wife was in the hospital.  Fact is, that space flight was a GROUP decision.  Ms. Giffords, Kelly’s daughters, both sets of parents and NASA all weighed in on the pros and cons.  It was his last flight, so to him, it was six or a half-dozen.  Since Morris regards Ms. Giffords as “worthless”, how would the space flight matter.

Well, grief leads people to say strange things.  This, I know.  Personally, I grieve for the Tucson victims, also.  I grieve for Judge Roll, Gabe Zimmerman, Mr. Stoddard, Mrs. Schneck, Christina-Taylor Green and for George Morris’s wife, Dorothy.  Each had a good life ahead.  If Judge Roll had lived, he’d have seen the courthouse he planned for Yuma get built.  If Gabe had lived, he’d be the one coaching Ms. Giffords back to health and might have been a fine surrogate candidate, had she been unable to run.  If Mr. Stoddard and Mrs. Schneck had lived, they’d have seen their grandkids on to higher levels of achievement.  If Christina-Taylor had lived, the sky would have been the limit,  If Dorothy Morris had lived, perhaps George would have had the chance to clear the air with his Congresswoman, instead of lashing out at her now.

We’re all adults here, so I sense Ms. Giffords half-expects to get some tongue-lashings from the disgruntled among us, even as she works on recovery.  Such is life in the public eye.  The vast majority of Americans, however, are pouring out good will, and not because we’re media sheep.  It’s because we’re human and the hurt of one, or of the few, is the hurt of all.

The scene we see today, on Oracle Road, is of a memorial.  For a long time to come, may its cause not be repeated.

Women

0
Posted by on in Personal goals

I have been without the love of my life, strictly in the physical sense, for ten months now.  I say this because she is with me spiritually and psychically, every minute of every day.  Of course, she has plenty to do on the other side,but somehow a spirit can seem to do lots of things, simultaneously, or so it seems to me now.

I saw a photo of another friend’s late wife, on my other blog site.  It was from the late sixties, and like my Penny, she was gorgeous.  He has kept her in his heart, all these years, even though he was with another woman later, and had a family with his second wife.

I will be the same, come Hell or high water.  This leads me to those who don’t seem to value their wives.  I read a post from a young woman this morning, saying her husband ignores her, except to mock her speech, as if he were a tween boy.  Gott in himmel!

I can’t imagine a marriage where there are no differences of opinion, no moments when the two need a time out from each other.  Violence, whether physical, emotional or psychological, has no place in any adult relationship.  We try to teach our children that corporal punishment is a last resort, used only for the worst offenses, and not after a child has reached the age of reason- somewhere between 9 and 12, usually.

I digress, though.  Men have to be taught to talk things out, many times.  Penny helped me get the hang of it by the time we’d been married for four years.  I honestly did try from day one.  It just took time.

I have been approached by a few women, with varying degrees of aggressiveness, over the past three months, since settling in Prescott.  I mean no one any harm, but I am still in a year of mourning.  I will be anyone’s friend, but  I have one soul mate.  That I am not interested in more than a platonic relationship with anyone I know at the moment, does not reflect on the women in question, as people.  I wish each of them well in meeting a man who is ready, willing and able.

As for the future, this is the deal.  I believe that, in the hereafter, those who loved each other in this life will be partners for eternity.  Those who divorced, or never married, will still find a soul mate, somewhere in the spirit world.  There are, however, no third wheels.

What this means in terms of the rest of my life in this world is, if I meet a widow, between the ages of 40-60, who had a loving relationship with her husband, so that HE will be her soul mate in the next life, and she just wants my companionship in this one, it’ll be all well and good- AFTER my year of mourning is over.

Women are a blessing to men, and we ought to return the favour.  Be a blessing, not a burden.

Food Stamps or Paycheck?

2
Posted by on in Social

Newt Gingrich said today that black folks should choose a pay check over food stamps.  How this is limited to black folks is something only Newt could explain.  I hope for his sake that he does.

I don’t use food stamps.  I live alone, and I stocked up on emergency food boxes while I was still working regularly.  I would use a paycheck, once I get one of the jobs for which I have applied.  I’m not black, but again, how that matters is something only Newt could explain.

He also was quoted as saying that, if he went to any given neighbourhood in America and polled the residents, a majority would choose food stamps over a paycheck.  Really?  I see lots of people going into work, every day.  8.7 % of  working-age Arizonans are unemployed.  That means at least a majority of working-age  Arizonans are working.  The rest are off the grid, or like me, semi-retired and still willing to work.  I don’t know what percentage of Arizonans are black, and I really don’t care.  People are people.

I am getting some money from SSDI each month.  If I get a job that pays over the maximum that SSDI allows, I’ll give up that benefit.  It’s not the end of the world.   Fair is fair.

It was not fair that I was let go by a social service agency three years ago this May, because  the director was uncomfortable with my having a disabled wife, and thought I wasn’t bringing in enough money to the agency.  I cringe that those people are still allowed to present themselves as “mental health professionals”.  Life went on anyway, and guess what, Don and Dave, I’m still here.  I will continue to work with children,  because that’s where my heart is.

Lots of things are unfair in this life, as JFK once said.  The course of Newt Gingrich’s campaign from here on may strike him as unfair, but let’s see him spend just 48 hours being told he’s too old, too ethnic, wrong gender, overqualified, underqualified, wrong background, wrong personality.  The voters of New Hampshire may just tell those very things, next Tuesday.

Past as Prologue

5
Posted by on in Personal goals

A friend online celebrated cutting ties with what, for her, was a rather abysmal past.  I congratulate anyone who can put an end to pain and suffering. We each deserve more than that.

The exchange led me to thinking about my own past.  Until I was about 30, my autism and chemical dependency were intertwined, so as to make me put forward a rather wretched countenance- so far removed from the little soul who was such a happy and hopeful child, until getting involved in rock fights at age ten led to the head trauma that aggravated my autism and caused so many of my peers to alternately laugh and cringe.

Age 30 brought the Baha’i Faith, abstinence from alcohol and drugs and my soul mate.  She had her own health issues, but they were more or less kept at bay for the first 21 years of our marriage.    Penny had a very positive, productive interest in health.  It bordered on obsession, but if one is to be obsessed with anything, it may as well be that which enhances life.  Someone like myself, used to a “catch-as-catch can” physical regimen, had much to learn from such as she, and learn I did.

When fate intervened, in 2003, and she suffered two head traumas within two weeks’ time, we began to look upon our shared experience as bittersweet.  We kept on with an exercise regimen, through her neurological and physical decline, even in the wheelchair days.  I would get her to the local YMCA or 24 Hour Fitness, two or three days a week.  A kind RN showed me how to lift and lower Penny from wheelchair to car and back, and from wheelchair to exercise machine. Most of the time, it worked.  This added at least a year to her life, I’m sure and we were so happy just getting the physical sustenance.

Then came infection, lesions, cleansing surgery, and rehab hospital.  2010 was like our lost year.  I would substitute teach most days, and be with Penny afterward, until visiting hours ended, usually between 9-10 PM.  Weekends, I was there just about all day.  In November, I brought her home and we had home health care- so that I could keep working and thus contribute to what her disability checks provided.  In December, 2010, the seizures started, and we came up with a deep breathing method of bringing her out of them.  At first, though, we had to go through ER, ICU, The Speech about how a responsible spouse would have her put through a tracheotomy and on a breathing machine. (I ran this by Penny and she turned it down- being confined and isolated in hospital would no longer work for her- or me.)  So, we left the hospital, arranged for a different home health service, due to her increased oxygen needs, and for its attached hospice service- just in case.

Mostly, home health-hospice was supportive, through January and February.  I again heard a Speech, this time about “my duty” to turn her disability checks over to the State of Arizona, so that Penny could be placed in a care home.  She rejected this option, as did I.  That ended all social work assistance to her.  The state’s social service structure, at that time, was abysmally mercenary.  Things are starting to look up in that regard, though too late for my darling wife.

The  staff who helped us, unfortunately, had health crises of their own- right at the time Penny’s bacterial infection flared up again.  We did the best we could to keep it from spreading, but by February 26, 2011, she needed to go back to hospice.  An unfortunate round of pneumonia found its way into her room, and her fight ended on March 5.

Since she left her physical self behind, I have experienced her constant spiritual presence.  Our son has had similar experiences.  He and I are on separate paths- he in the Navy and I wending my way through semi-retirement and on a well-defined path of fiscal and physical self-discipline.  We converge, with her blessing, every so often, most recently for two weeks in December.  I have traveled more, read more books, written more and eaten less. I have made friends, spent less money and been more systematic in my approach to life.  When women have approached me, seeking more than friendship, I have run it by Penny, and the answer so far has been, “She’s not the one.  When I see someone who would be a good companion for you, until we’re together again, you’ll be the first to know.  Just don’t be mean to anyone.”  That’ll work; it’s not in my nature to be mean, even when I have to be aloof in order to protect myself.

Somehow, I think these are things she wanted to see in me, all along.

Centenarians

4
Posted by on in Social

I read a piece in Yahoo! yesterday, about a 100-year-old woman who met her natural daughter only six years ago.  The daughter is now 77.  This seems to be a very positive, life-affirming event, for both women, and for their families.

This is one of the many anomalies that have arisen, and will continue to arise, as more and more people reach the century mark.  If you aspire to attain Methuselah status, what are your plans for such an event, and, more importantly, for the time afterward? Some, like George Burns and Bob Hope, just barely crossed the finish line and made it their last race.  Others, like all those who become the Oldest Man/Oldest Woman in the World, or like Frank Buckles and Claude Choules, the two last surviving combat veterans of World War I, (both of whom died last year),have plans for staying in the game and achieving real goals.

If I am so indulged, I want to leave this all behind with my hips swinging and my arms outstretched, in embrace of all that life has to offer, and with an appreciation for what this life has taught me.  As my Penny said, “I want to die with my boots on.”  She did so, when it was her time, though far from the century mark.  I wouldn’t mind going the distance, since her spirit is always around, and I have this thirst for achievement and experience.

Adam vs. The Man

0
Posted by on in Social

I had a chance to view this broadcast, online yesterday.  ‘Adam’ promises to be a regular feature on Real Truth network.  The host is a veteran of the Iraq War, and considers himself a Libertarian- neither “right” nor “left”, thus reserving the prerogative of calling out the self-appointed experts of both ideological poles, and those in-between.

He regards everyone from Barack Obama to Sean Hannity as being full of hot air, and has no use for social icons, such as Bill Clinton and Bill O’Reilly.  Adam seems more of a down-to-Earth, let’s have a drink together kind of guy, but is deadly serious about the need for a more intensely people-centered system of government.  He refers to his concept as “Love-olution”.  It is, so far, short on specifics (surprised?) and long on name-calling (SHOCKED?).

Here in righteous land, I will be addressing social and cultural issues, specifically, one at a time.  As with yesterday’s post, “Who Owes Whom?”, I want to be focused on these things, avoid platitudes and not seem dreamy-eyed.  It didn’t work in the ’60’s, and won’t now.

I believe in the power of Millennials (born 1980-1998) and “Generation Wired” (born 1999-present) to act more cohesively, and less self-centered than those who came before them.  They have had plenty of training in attention to detail, even to minutiae, on a minute-by-minute basis.  What is needed along with this skill, however, is patience.  The idea of processes versus events does not come easy to those raised in an age of instantaneous communication and problem-solving,.  The notion of overcoming setbacks comes hard to many who have been raised in a climate of political correctness and inviolable self-esteem.  Hard Knocks is an alien concept, for those raised to act entitled.

So, my challenge to the young Libertarians is this:  Develop a Five-Year Plan, a Ten-Year Plan, for the “Love-olution”.  My son, a young conservative, has lots of ideas for building a society based on empowerment, group cohesion and good, old-fashioned elbow grease.  He is learning patience; learning that a setback or delay does NOT mean, instantly, that someone or some “They” must be to blame.  Put together the best qualities of the rising generations and of those who came before them, and we will actually see a global civilization based on love and harmony, rather than tyranny and division.