Possibilities

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December 21, 2022- On a lark, I spent a little time this evening, watching a show about the misadventures of a young woman in a place for which she was ill-prepared. It had a bit of an “I Love Lucy” meets “Anna and The King” air about it. She was, though, making it work, day to day, when I signed off and went on to other activities for the evening. The gist was that, though she seemed a bit flighty, there was a very strong sense of self-and a pluckiness that brought her eventual success. She was nobody’s fool.

We each face similar situations, even when we stay in place and try to adhere to a certain basic routine. I’ve heard from friends whose lives are rather cut and dried, who have recently been facing challenges they had only vaguely expected. These range from weather that is so cold, that even an Alaska-style battery-warmer would be hard put to keep a vehicle working, to health challenges facing multiple members of a family, at once, and I’m not talking about viruses.

Thus do we find ourselves exploring possibilities. In this little corner, I will be talking with a couple of educators, tomorrow, about filling in at a position for the coming semester. This would make my own routine fairly basic, for the first time in four years. On the other hand, I could keep my present plan, which would have me covering different positions, for 3-5 days each, at certain points in the coming semester. If that plays out, I would still be available for some Red Cross activities and would head to the Northwest and Alaska, in late April, for 3 weeks or so. The other option would be none of the above, a misty, foggy scenario about which I haven’t a clue as to how things would play out. (2020 was THAT sort of year, and things got rather intense-but all ended fairly well.)

Even in “retirement”, the plight of the world, and all those I care about, settles deeply into my consciousness. The possibilities for responsible action remain endless.

Winter’s Arrival.

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December 20, 2022- It was a bit warmer today, in Prescott, as we reached the cusp of another Solstice. We are, though, pretty much the exception, across North America right now. All reports I am seeing are of bone-chilling cold; the polar Vortex; no outward sign of the dreaded warming. Of course, long-term vagaries of climatic change are not defined by the events of one season or another. That is of no comfort, however, to those on the Plains, in the subarctic and clear into the Deep South, who are faced with temperatures which are well below zero, in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.

It is the season of “Look out for your neighbour”, much as one does in scorching heat. I am grateful that my mother is in a place where her warmth and safety are pretty much guaranteed. The cold of New England will not be of harm to her. Those in places as far south as Brownsville, TX; clear to Tallahassee and due north to Pittsburgh are facing the Vortex and will hopefully be kept safe, by the vigilance of their community members.

Vigilance of a different form, not depending on weather, needed exercising today-as I noted a friend’s business was under veiled threat from an online commentator. Fortunately, a screen shot of the rudeness was provided to my friend, in time to take action and have the threats removed from that platform. It is quite possible that, as cruelty to animals often precedes violence against humans, so do online posts presage physical attacks. Steps can now be taken to upgrade security in this case.

In closing, I wish readers a Joyous Yule/Solstice, Hanukah Sameach- and an early Merry Christmas. Posts will continue, on a daily basis, of course, but it is never too soon to wish everyone the best.

Types

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December 19, 2022- The sweet eyes of the dark-haired woman, standing just behind and to the left of the male soloist, seemed to rivet the videographer, especially at the end of the recording of “My Gallant Hero”, sung in Gaelic by the Trinity College Choir. Perhaps the camera operator was a parent, sibling, significant other or just an admirer from afar, and though there was no dearth of pleasant, attractive faces and voices-of both genders- in the troupe, hers just seemed to capture attention.

There was a time when I was particularly drawn to girls, and then women, with dark hair and brown eyes, especially to those with Celtic features. My “type” , of course, expanded, and I spent a devoted, loving and fulfilling 30 years with Penny, whose features were dark blonde-to- reddish brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Since her passing, my women friends have not been determined by physical type-but by character and the strength of our mutual interests. Then, again, romance has not been front and center, in my reality.

It was thus with curiosity that I noted the whole (mostly) online kerfuffle about an action-film star and his “much younger” current girlfriend. Someone noted that the man has a”type”-which amuses me. Once a person reaches adulthood, what does it matter that there is a decade or two between him/her and significant other? Of course, there are caveats: 1. It is awkward for an S/O to be in the same age range as the person’s adult child, or younger. This brings up-“Does the younger party have Daddy or Mommy issues?”; “Does the older party have secret pedophilia issues, or is he/she just immature?” 2. There are legitimate longevity concerns, which is why I am personally opposed to the whole arranged-marriage thing, when a man in his forties, or older, is betrothed to a young woman in her late teens or twenties, or to a girl, for that matter. A human being, regardless of age or gender, is put on Earth to pursue his/her own dreams and life plan, NOT those of another. One can argue that there are young women who legitimately choose to wed much older men, to the chagrin of the wider society-whose business it definitely is not. I have my suspicions about some prominent older men who have taken on young women as mates-yet those marriages seem to have endured quite well. I have a young friend who is married to a man her father’s age, and that bond has proven durable. So, too, has the marriage of one of my female relatives to a much younger man. The proof is in the pudding. 3. It is never acceptable, though, for an adult to marry, or be romantically involved with, a child.

Here, then, for the enjoyment of those who share my own fascination with Celtic music, is the above-mentioned video.

Tantrums

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December 18, 2022- There seems to be an increase in loud, public expressions of anger and fevered verbal attacks on people of various political and social stripes, by prominent figures who feel that their way of life is being targeted across the board. These attacks, much like the tantrums staged by toddlers who are denied a cookie before dinner or a toy during a shopping trip, do nothing to push their case forward, usually portending the opposite.

The errant plaintiff either got everything he/she demanded, as a child or was so tellingly ignored, for so long, that not getting what is expected is like a torrent of nails on a coffin. The losses will just continue piling up-even if an ever-shrinking coterie of admirers or sycophants tells the out of touch wailer that a return to power and glory is imminent.

There is, simply put, no turning back the wheel of time to a bygone era. We may find ourselves in a rut that is similar to that of the past, but it is a temporary state of affairs. The power to keep an outmoded system of power and control operating, especially one that presumes primacy of a favoured few, has been lost. All the machinations in the world will do little more than inconvenience a certain number of people, for a relatively short time.

The whole of the human race is moving forward-towards a more inclusive, equitable future. This is borne out by no less than the bizarre spectacle of an African-American, a Hispanic and an East European, who himself may well have Jewish ancestry, leading the cause of “white supremacy”. This is all the very illusion that these men’s supporters are claiming is being foisted upon an unsuspecting multitude. The perpetrators have claimed victimhood- and readily point to real and contrived slights, ,as proof, deftly distracting from what their own hands have wrought.

The time is growing short, and the hearts of the awakened (not “woke”) are no longer fooled. The strings of the puppetmasters are being snipped, one by one. Tantrums no longer discomfit the onlookers.

Thought Experiments

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December 17, 2022- I spent part of this afternoon, prior to taking in a Latino rock band’s performance at the Raven, listening to several jazz arrangements of classical pieces. These included renditions of ceremonial standards: The Bridal Chorus, Wedding March, and Pomp & Circumstance-which I regarded as an elegant drudge at my own graduation from High School, some fifty four years ago. Most such jazz arrangements are thought experiments; some are done with the knowledge and encouragement of the original composers-Maurice Ravel and Aaron Copland certainly smiled at the best of up-tempo versions of their work. Petr Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Bach would likely have felt the same.

The wedding-related pieces have been worked into certain nuptials, though I haven’t heard of any usage of Tom Kubis’ rousing version of “Pomp” in a graduation exercise. Methinks the kids would love it, but not so, much more traditionalist adults. Nonetheless, thought experiments, so long as they don’t lead to harm of anyone, or to disparagement of the tried and true, are good for individual and collective consciousness. This extends to most alternative adaptations of traditional music-though a few loud, up-tempo versions of children’s lullabies have fallen flat, mainly because of the decibel level of the performances (not good for tender ears) and the fact that the purpose of a lullaby is usually to get a child to calm down and go to sleep.

This brings me to “thought experiments” that have been broached recently, by prominent personages, and pertaining to everything from the United States Constitution to how people should live their lives when in private to the composition of life in the Universe (Some have posited that there are planets inhabited by Cat People and Horse People). Such exercises, besides being rather numbing to the consciousness of those entertaining such thoughts, and disruptive to the national fabric, are flying in the face of the forward march of history. They are allowed by said Constitution, but like the most raucous of loud and swinging lullabies, are best kept to the privacy of their fashioners.

Jazz interpretations of Classical Music, reasoned political discourse-regardless of viewpoint and careful research into any aspect of life in the Universe add luster to our social condition-at least from where I stand. Those thought experiments that solely reflect the egotism of their adherents serve no redeeming purpose.

Means of Support

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December 16, 2022- After a few days of making tentative bonds with some hostelers from Quebec and central Europe, and encountering a bridal party whose central member was chilled to the bone, I returned to find some of my dearest friends alternately encountering an almost Job-like series of difficulties and others finding disappointment and canceled plans at their door.

December can be a cruel month, perhaps rivaling T.S. Eliot’s April. Largely because so many have worked hard all year, and suffered so much from disease, to have a reasonable wish for a break of some kind is a small expectation. The Universe, though, does not always honour small expectations-perhaps because larger issues are at stake, or there are caveats attached to the wish, or maybe someone is in the reward queue ahead of the supplicant. I have had wishes that I secretly wanted to be fulfilled-in the company of _________, but not _________. That has been the undoing of the request.

The last two weeks of this year will prioritize helping those mentioned above-if they feel the need for my assistance and support. It’s vital for me to go over this in my heart, every day, and make sure that there are no agendas or caveats of my own involved. Life has been, on balance, good for me in 2022, and honestly, I want to share that fortune with those who have meant so much around here. At the same time, everyone faces life in their own way, and solitude is sometimes the only way a person, or family, can cope.

So it will play out as it is meant to-and I will stand by, with eyes and ears open, as we take one step at a time through the perils placed in the path trod by humanity. I am honoured to even be in a position to offer support, even if it is mostly emotional.

High Desert Chill

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December 15, 2022- Skull Rock really does look forbidding. The formations that dot Joshua Tree National Park are all pretty aptly named, though I must admit that the Hall of Horrors did not seem all that harrowing. My hikes were rather limited by the lingering chill that has decided to stick around the Southwest, for several more days-in lieu of a week of snow and rain that was forecast, as recently as a week ago.

This first visit to the crown jewel of the Mohave. After three days along the coast, the inspiration came to head northeast, along CA 62. Here are seven photos of the park’s main route, from the West Entrance, in the town of Joshua Tree, to Cottonwood Springs, just west of Chiriaco Summit. While the trees which some Mormon settlers thought reminded them of the Prophet Joshua, with his arms upraised in triumph, give their name to the Park, the rock formations are what bring visitors back to the area, time and again.

Keys West
Near Quail Springs
Butte, near Hemingway Campground
Quail Springs climbing area
Hall of Horrors
Skull Rock
Jumbo Rocks

The day started off with a breakfast from Zebra House, in downtown San Clemente, my first experience with ordering a meal from a computer screen, when there was a full crew standing at the counter. It does help the team streamline orders, but I felt a bit awkward doing things this way. The breakfast burrito was excellent, though, and I got to exercise more options. As with any novel experience, I would be more relaxed next time.

The drive across CA 76, 15, 79 and 74 brought me to a more familiar place, Gramma’s Country Kitchen, in Banning-as usual, taking a place at the counter. Half a tuna melt and a few steak fries later, I was headed towards Joshua Tree. It was, as said earlier, a chilly visit-weather-wise, but I encountered several friendly folks, both park rangers and visitors, especially rock climbers, who were planning each step very carefully. Most memorable were a newlywed couple, in their nuptial attire, being photographed at various landmarks. My paternal self fretted, just a bit, for the bride, in such lightweight attire. It was not surprising, about fifteen minutes later, to see the young lady wrapped in a blanket, with a forlorn look on her face. I hope the rest of their life together is more well considered.

Chiriaco Cafe’s chili added a fine finishing touch to a lightly-planned, but fascinating afternoon. It will not be my last visit to Joshua Tree, not by a long shot.

A Pastel Day

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December 14, 2022, San Clemente- I walked along Dana Point Harbor’s southern flank, whilst waiting for my friend, Janet, to arrive for our customary lunch, a signature part of any southern California visit, since 2011. Much was the same, along the boardwalk, with an addition that honours Dana Point’s recent history. Here is a tall ship that is moored among the charter boats and private yachts, at the southern edge of the harbour.

The Curlew, originally moored in Dana Point Harbor, in the 1920s.

Janet has been a corresponding friend, since my Xanga days (2008-11). Our lunches have been followed by short walks along one or another of Orange County’s beaches or botanical gardens. More recently, we have met for extended conversations at Harpoon Henry’s, with its west-facing view of the harbour. Dana Point Harbor will be undergoing a facelift, of sorts, over the next few years. Hopefully, Henry’s will be spared.

Today was a far quieter day, weather-wise, as an extended period of sunshine seems to be taking root, in the Southwest, which includes “SoCal”. It assumed a rather pastel hue, in the sky and along the beach front. After conversing with Janet for about an hour, I came back to House of Trestles, rested a bit, then visited Trestles Beach, a favourite of some surfers. I found the ocean rather calm, with a lone surfer having packed up and carrying his board and gear off the beach. Trestles is rather flat and somewhat removed from the cliffs, thus giving it a pastel feel, as well.

Trestles does share information about the sport, which I had not encountered on any other beach.
Trestles Beach, named for the adjacent railroad trestles that lie just to the east.

It was a fine, somewhat quieter day, following the roiling cloudy and stormy period earlier in the week. I found little to clean up, at Trestles Beach. It seems the surfers do a good job policing their own.

Stewarding the Beach

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December 13, 2022, San Clemente- I was briefly considering heading down to Little Italy, and dropping into Harbor Breakfast, when the call came over the loudspeaker at Samesun Ocean Beach. I had had a wondrous time playing an impromptu card game, last night, with five young hostelers, and had been getting to know some of them better, over coffee and toaster waffles. This ended when the announcement was made to be at the front desk at 10 a.m,, if interested in joining a beach clean-up. The ladies had other plans, but I am always interested in giving back to a host community. So, I got all my stuff out of the room, put it in storage and met with three other hostelers and a community member, and headed to the beach front.

The organizer, a sometime airline pilot named Joe, does these kinds of clean-ups in various locations around the world, in his free time. He has led several clean-ups of Ocean Beach, and other locations along the California coast. The community member who joined us is a barista at the coffee shop next door to Samesun and is a clothing designer, as well. We covered about a two -mile area, netting four bags of trash, a crab trap and an old half piece of luggage. Surfers and unhoused people thanked us, as did several dog owners-as one of the areas was OB’s Dog Beach.

This gives me the inspiration to spend some time tomorrow, cleaning up Trestles Beach, before or after meeting a friend in Dana Point. Stewarding our environment is something that needs doing on a regular basis, and I can certainly get back to doing this around Home Base, as well.

Joe treated us all to brunch, at OB Surf Lodge, one of the several magnificent eateries in this lovely little community. The fare was excellent, and I was able to help Joe avoid losing out on a job-thus paying back in a different way.

We steward the environment, and have each other’s back, because that is the way the world needs us to be.

Through A Winter Wonderland to A Big Rainbow House

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December 12, 2022, San Diego-

It’s always a pleasant scene, in Pine Valley, CA.

After a blissful sleep, with my spirit operating on another level, while the body enjoyed complete rest, I left the well-furnished microhotel, known as Palms Inn, took a nice breakfast at Space Age Restaurant and bid farewell to Gila Bend. Friends in Yuma were busy, so I blazed on to Pine Valley and Major’s Diner, enjoying a winter scene from Jacumba to near Alpine. The above Merry Christmas whiteness is in front of Major’s.

A scant hour later, I was at this gem of a hostel.

Samesun Hostel, Ocean Beach

Samesun(pronounced same sun) is everything implied by the name. The mostly young crowd welcomes all, honours each person’s space (as I write this paean, two groups are enjoying one another’s company, and when I am ready to rejoin them, there will be room.) Part of this is the vibe of Ocean Beach, which I last visited in November, 1980, before Penny and I met. I remembered how well people got along here, in front of one of San Diego County’s nicest surfing beaches. Having felt tension at the last hostel where I stayed, a mostly older male facility downtown, on my last visit, it was just time to seek a younger and more tolerant vibe.

Here it is: The big rainbow house, called Samesun.

San Diego’s largest peace sign, at Samesun Hostel

A new friend named Johnny, from Chicago, said he chose the hostel after seeing this icon, after arriving here from a Venice, CA weekend. Johnny and I talked of the Grateful Dead and the Doors, for a while, then I headed to the surf show-just down the street.

A lone woman surfer tries her Ocean Beach luck.
Incoming tide at Ocean Beach
Gulls gather together, for comfort.
The surf, agitated by this latest storm, Ocean Beach.
More majestic surf, bathes the rocks, at Ocean Beach.
Rear view of a breaker, Ocean Beach.
Lone male surfer, who rode five waves while I was on the pier.

Realizing that I needed to move my car from the commercial zone, I bid both of the surfers well and headed back. Once Sportage was safely in a space near a church, I came back to the hostel and saw this:

Affirmation, at Samesun Hostel.

So does Ocean Beach join Little Italy, Old Town San Diego and La Jolla, as a welcoming place in one of my favourite large cities. So does Che and Chloe’s Pizzeria, where Chloe herself welcomed me, cheerfully, this evening, join Harbor Breakfast and Filippi’s, as a staple of any San Diego sojourn. I will have much to ponder, this evening, but in a good way and in excellent company, by a warm bonfire pan-a Southern California standby.