The Road to Diamond, Day 103: Crowded Houses

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March 11, 2025, San Diego- Samesun Hostel, Ocean Beach makes the most of its back deck, when it is sunny. Today was not a sunny day-and the forecast is for rain tomorrow through Friday, as well. That renders the back deck a place of comfort only for the few human seals who don’t mind sitting under an umbrella. The rest of us either stayed in our rooms or crammed into the kitchen and TV/Game Room. I did a little of both, hanging out with a few hostelers in the latter spot, and tending to business matters in my private room on the second floor.

I visited a couple of other spots in OB during the day. In between rain showers, I took a mid-morning snack at OB Beans, one of the better coffee shop/bakeries on Newport Avenue. It was a full house there. Lunch time found me at Hodad’s, which advertises its fare as “the world’s best burgers.” I have to say, the Blue Jay (1/2 pounder with bacon, fried onions and bleu cheese) was one of the best I’ve had, right up there with the beef at Chuckbox, in Tempe or one of the more heartfelt renditions at a Five Guys in the Dallas area. The standout at Hodad’s, however, is its ambiance. There was barely enough room for the servers to move between tables, but everyone was having a great time. As the name suggests, the place is surfing-themed, with boogie boards hung in strategic places around the shop. Long tables take up the mid-section and there is a “photo-op” cabana type table for two, towards the front. A few couples took advantage of that, for selfies, while I was seated nearby.

All this makes rainy days in Ocean Beach nearly as enjoyable as the sun-drenched versions. It’s all in how one views the camaraderie.

The Road to Diamond, Day 102: Ever Magical

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March 10, 2025, San Diego- The first sight, when I opened the door in Yuma this morning, was of six splendid palm trees, in front of a Denny’s Restaurant that is being remodeled. The sight of these iconic signs of the tropics, at that early dawn hour, lent a magical tone to the waking time.

It was like that, across I-8. Though the scenery was not spectacular-mostly sand, to varying depths and heights of dune, followed by irrigated fields in the Imperial Valley and barren foothills of the Laguna Mountains, there was a sense that only good things were afoot. People were waved through two Border Patrol checkpoints and traffic, even in the eastern suburbs of San Diego, was fairly negligible.

Here in Ocean Beach, the ambiance was for relaxation. I will have several business items, both digital and real time, to tend while here, yet there is no outrageous urgency. The tide came in, as the sun was setting, and there were dozens of people romping in the surf, along with a dozen or so on Boogie Boards. The wharf is closed, due to structural weakness, so the top of the stairs is taking on prime lookout duties. One could go over to the jetty at Dog Beach, but that is for maybe tomorrow or Wednesday afternoon.

Along Newport Avenue, there were huge bubbles from someone’s random machine and children squealing and shouting with delight. Che and Chloe are still serving up heavenly pizza, and light meals, to cook in Samesun Hostel’s kitchen, are available in Krisp- across the street. I simply get a real sense of how a community best works, walking around OB. Both residents and visitors seem to flow well together. It is, in a real sense, everyone’s little town, in the midst of sprawling San Diego.

That is what has drawn me here, for the past four years.

The Road to Diamond, Day 101: A Book In The Rocks

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March 9, 2025, Yuma- Many years ago, one of my students told me that it would be very worthwhile to visit Picture Rocks Petroglyph Site, on her father’s reservation: The Tohono O’odham Gila Bend Band, about 20 miles west of the transportation hub known as Gila Bend.

I spent an hour or so with my overnight hosts, talking of a variety of topics, then went to Penny’s grave site. There, I found that the water for flower vases has been turned off and the restrooms at the National Cemetery have been closed. Whether this is part of the DOGE downsizing, or merely a water conservation measure, is uncertain. I just used some water I had in the Sportage, and left the flowers in vase at my angel’s site.

I found that my excess energy needed to be brought under control-with several little hiccups occurring, while I was fueling the SUV. So, a few deep breaths later, I was good to go. Traveling along some back roads towards I-10, and over to Buckeye, then down AZ 85, I had ample opportunity to get a grip on any impatience that may have been under the surface, and managed quite well. I’m sure that those on the receiving end of my patience were quite grateful.

I stopped at Picture Rocks, some 33 years after my student told me about them. It is a hidden gem, and then some. The petroglyphs are of two styles: Archaic, meaning they are primitive and were done by people who lived there before the Huhugam (ancestors of the Tohono and Akimel O’odham) and Gila, the work of the Huhugam. I walked around in amazement at the wealth of drawings on the south side of the rock mound, from its base to its summit. For whatever reason, there are no inscriptions on the west or north sides of the mound. It is fortunate that the mound is cordoned off, and visitors look at the petroglyphs from a short distance. Thus, there are no “Becca loves Jamison, 2022” and such.

Here are six of the scenes that I found at Picture Rocks.

Man vs. Bighorn sheep, Picture Rocks, AZ

A hunting expedition, Picture Rocks, AZ
View of the summit, Picture Rocks, AZ
Busy day in the village, Picture Rocks, AZ
More busy times, Picture Rocks, AZ
News from bottom to top, Picture Rocks, AZ

The scene is best viewed in person, but you get the “Picture”. (couldn’t resist).

The Road to Diamond, Day 100: Compassion in Action

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March 8, 2025, Phoenix- The tall, silver-haired man stepped forward, as the wiry younger man with intense eyes walked up to a pair of young women who were working the management table at Farmers’ Market were doing their wrap-up work for the day. The ladies had noticed the bronzed military veteran walking about and talking to others, in a manner that seemed to make people uncomfortable. They were quite perturbed that he was still there, when there were only a few of us workers left.

The older man calmly helped one of the women, his daughter, in folding tablecloths, and when the ex-Marine asked if he might have one of the cloths to use as a blanket, replied that it was already needed for the table and, in any case, would not be very warm. For my part, I engaged the fellow veteran in conversation for a few minutes, letting him know where he could get a meal during the week, while I folded up a few tables. It was the father, keeping a careful, but calm eye out for his child’s safety, who showed the most compassion, getting the younger man a bag for the groceries he’d purchased or been comped and fetching a loaf of bread for him to take along. It was this which finally prompted the ex-Marine to leave.

We have many among us who are mentally ill, to some degree or another. I have had my own challenges, in that respect, and though I have come to function at a high level, cannot cast aspersions on those who are worse off. Of course, we need to hold other people to a modicum of civility, and not allow for abusive or overly intrusive behaviour. Women and children need to feel, and be, secure. Especially after the wanton murder of a young woman outside Mesa, a few weeks ago, my mind is all over keeping a safe environment. The man in question seemed to merely want company and to engage in conversation, even if it were in a looping manner. It was just not the right time and place for him to engage the women.

After he left, a group of us helped one of the vendors who was agitated for an entirely different reason, and took down his tents, while he tended to the matter at hand. It is always a matter of regarding people as family.

Once this was all in the rear view mirror, I got things together and hopped in the Sportage, heading down to a gathering at the home of an old friend. About thirty people gathered for dinner and a wide range of conversations about everything from spirituality to the modern circus. The ambiance, as always at this house, was one of universal compassion and love for mankind. After seeing people I had not seen for several years and meeting many new friends, I have retired to my room for the night, satisfied that it will remain compassion, rather than self-interest, that will carry the day.

The Road to Diamond, Day 99: Invisible No More

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March 7, 2025- It was in the mid-1990s, and three young girls felt that their safety was at risk, at their school and in the nearby area. They bolted and hid in a remote spot. I was school counselor back then, and while I had earned the trust of most students,including the girls, they weren’t taking any chances with possibly having to deal with their adversaries. I was left to notify their parents that they had absconded and to enlist the support of the local police and the Superintendent of Schools. Several of us were out looking around, and by nightfall, one of the girls had made it back to her mother’s house. Early the next morning, I got a call from the other two. They had found their way to a safe house for the night, but were ready to go back to their parents. I went and got them, bringing them home.

This was in a Native American community. What is important here is that Native American women and girls, in both the United States and Canada, have been disappearing at an alarming rate, from both urban and rural areas. 5,800 women and girls disappeared in 2023; 74 % were children. I would estimate that this number has, if anything, only increased over the last 1.25 years. It has been called a “silent crisis”, but it is hardly silent to the First Nations.

On January 27, a young girl named Emily Pike left the group home where she was staying, possibly aiming to get back to her parents on the San Carlos Apache Nation. She never made it. She was found dead, killed in a gruesome manner, on February 14 along the route back to San Carlos from Mesa, where she had been living. In a hideous way, Emily at least was found and her family can get a small measure of closure. Many women and children are far less “fortunate”.

There has been an invisibility problem, with regard to indigenous people on this continent. It is probably true elsewhere in the world, as well. Here, though, various bad actors have been able to choose victims from across the First Nations of the United States and Canada-whether trafficking the women and girls, or systematically raping and killing them, with the sense that “no one will notice.”

The families notice, and now, the rest of society is beginning to take stock, as well. It is high time, and it is past time. It has also affected young men-and not too long ago, I paid my respects to a mother who lost only son, a young man only a year younger than my own son. They knew one another, during our time on the Reservation. He, too, disappeared and was only found after nearly two years of search. It was too late.

We have an anonymity problem across our population. With customarily shy and wary First Nations people, it is all the more pronounced. They are, however, not deserving of invisibility. Their gifts, dreams and skills are every bit as valuable as anyone else’s. They were put on this Earth by the Divine, just like everyone else. It is an ongoing stain on this continent, that their lives are undervalued.

No one’s life should be.

The Road to Diamond, Day 98: Dribs and Drabs Again

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March 6, 2025- There was about an inch of snow that fell here, this morning. Dribs and drabs, and gone by noon. There is a better chance of accumulation tomorrow, so we’ll see. I stopped by a coffee shop that offers a hang-out for teens, just to see what it looks like. School was in session, so there was a lone young man staffing the counter and there were a couple of ladies running the office. Three workmen were doing repairs on a heating, ventilation and air conditioning system (HVAC). I got a cup of joe to go and moved along, saving the coffee for later and getting lunch at a downtown bagel shop that has several nice sandwich options. It was a good day for lox and cream cheese, with capers.

The Red Cross monthly meeting provided all the information I needed, in order to set up and run a shelter simulation-a week from Saturday. My team is poised and ready, and we will finalize the preparations next Friday. As for my acting as Sheltering Lead for this area, that will be decided next Friday, also.

I sat in on the Prescott Indivisible chapter meeting this evening. It focused on civics- helping those in attendance brush up on state government. This is something that everyone ought to know, so it was time well spent. There was not a whole lot of counterproductive bickering about personalities, which was gratifying. I see that the Governor of California has come out as opposing boys playing in girls’ sports. Personally, I think there are probably enough transgender athletes that they could compete against one another. On the other hand, there are times where girls take part in traditionally “boys-only” sports, like baseball and tackle football, so I think such matters need to be weighed carefully-on a case by case basis.

I ended the day by proofreading a paper by a Baha’i student from Indonesia, who I had met whilst in the Philippines, last month. It focused on an ecumenical ceremony hosted by some Buddhists, using traditional Javanese spiritual practices. I found the whole premise quite enlightening. It is called Ruwatan and is a means for fostering respect for diversity.

Sometimes, a day full of dribs and drabs works out quite well.

The Road to Diamond, Day 97: Ties That Bind

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March 5, 2025- Today marked the 14th anniversary of Penny’s passing. I kept a low profile, mostly reading, talking with Aram on the phone, then gratefully getting and replying to a message from Kathy. In the afternoon, I joined a couple of friends in prayer, then watched an interesting podcast, an episode of The Joe Rogan Experience that focused on those who communicate non-verbally, either by spelling out words on paper or through telepathy.

The presenter, Ky Dickens, is also known for her series, The Telepathy Tapes. She has worked with several non-verbal people, both high school students and adults. Ky described her experiences in verifying her subjects’ telepathic abilities. One student was able to read Portuguese and Japanese, without having actually studied the languages. The student could also decipher hieroglyphics, with accuracy verified by an Egyptologist. Another could accurately describe what Ms. Dickens was thinking, on several occasions, from a distance of ten miles.

Joe was quite intrigued by the evidence that Ky Dickens offered, allowing plenty of room to consider the ties that bind us, as an energy field. We ourselves are likely energy fields, not dissimilar to gravity and magnetism. The discourse branched out from that comparison, to the subject of animal awareness. Joe, an avid hunter, noted what he has observed deer and wolves. Mule deer have evolved as a species of alacrity, ever alert to the presence of mountain lions, their primary predator. Wolves have developed a strategy of one of the pack chasing predators while one or two others lie in wait further along the way. Any dog or cat owner knows that animals have a sensitivity to the energy emitted by their humans. Horses, likewise, have a multitude of sensitivities to magnetism and electricity.

There was finally a consideration of how society could develop sensitivity to the non-verbals, and draw out their talents, not regard them as mentally deficient, as has often been the case in the past. Joe also cautioned against allowing people with telepathic sensitivities to be manipulated by unscrupulous forces.

Both he and Ky agreed that unity is the most basic manifestation of love, and that non-verbal people show a greater capacity, in that respect. Having worked with autistic and Downs Syndrome children and teens, I heartily concur with their assessment. Ky also welcomes viewers to watch her series, and to ask reasonably skeptical questions, in order to research the subject on their own. I think Penny would agree.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-telepathy-tapes/id1766382649

The Road to Diamond, Day 96: The Hounds of the Hoovervilles

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March 4,2025- In the late 1920s, it was decided, by the Executive Branch, that the solution to the world’s gathering economic woes was to place trust in its economic elite, particularly the business titans of the United States. Granting exemptions and privileges to the “movers and shakers” was seen by the Hoover Administration as central to the nation’s, and the world’s , recovery following the Stock Market crash of October, 2029.

It proved to be too little, too late. The solution that worked proved to be the counterintuitive one-Massive investment by the government itself, large-scale programs that lifted society up by loaned bootstraps: The New Deal, a sequel to the Square Deal that was initiated by President Theodore Roosevelt, nearly thirty years earlier. That agenda increased government monitoring of business and enacted public health programs. The agenda of TR’s cousin, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, brought government into everything from flood control and rural electrification to the basic well-being of senior citizens and control of traded securities.

That the United States was drawn into World War II added to the economy in some respects and hampered it in others. War and defense industries flourished, while the workforce was limited by the need for so many men and women to go forth in safeguarding the nation’s, and the world’s, freedom.

Nearly a century after the Crash, we face a related reckoning. The notion that the government should be far less involved in social welfare is again gaining traction. It has been said, several times of late, including by the President in his speech to Congress, this evening, that payouts to deceased people have been ongoing. My wife of 29 years died, 14 years ago tomorrow. When she had been laid to rest, and the family members had gone back to their own lives, I took it upon myself to return funds that were no longer hers and to pay back her insurers that which had been overpaid. Further, time passed and I received Survivor Benefits from the Social Security Administration-until I filed for my own Retirement, upon reaching the age of 70. At that point, the Survivor Benefits stopped. I doubt that my handling of our situation is an anomaly.

I do not understand the insistence, by people who are independently wealthy and have no need of Social Security, that the rest of us should be asked to give up our benefits. Before anyone says that is not what Elon Musk and others are advocating-please note that he referred to Social Security as a Ponzi scheme. I paid into the fund, from November, 1966-February, 1987 and again from March, 1992- November, 2020. Heck, when I work occasionally as a Substitute Teacher, I am still paying into the Fund. I am getting back what I gave. I do not feel grifted.

Between the day after the Stock Market crash of October, 1929 and the inception of the New Deal, there emerged, across the nation, settlements of displaced workers and their families. These were called Hoovervilles. They gradually closed, as the economy slowly improved and the war effort took more people into the realm of military service. The Hoovervilles, in fairness, make today’s homeless encampments seem small by comparison-even in California.

I wonder, though, what will be the end result of slash and burn? What programs do the DOGE executives have in mind for those currently being displaced? Have they thought that far ahead, or are they acting as the new hounds of latter day Hoovervilles? I can work, if need be, for the foreseeable future. As I look around at my contemporaries, however, I see that not everyone can.

The Road to Diamond, Day 95: Un-central

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March 3,2025- The Department of Homeland Security is exploring a policy of having its staff members fan out over the country, with considerably fewer people stationed in Washington, DC. This would seem to be a far saner course of action, than the scorched earth approach being taken by so many other agencies and departments, in seeking to save taxpayer dollars.

In the few executive positions I have occupied, in my educational career, it has been my greatest joy to meet people in the various communities I served. Spending some time in the office, or with my supervisors at headquarters, can hardly be avoided, but when I noticed co-workers playing Solitaire on the computer or having paper airplane tossing contests, it just confirmed to me that it was best to get out and visit people where they lived.

There were a couple of agencies where my getting out of the building was neither approved nor appreciated afterward. Those particular supervisors had need of a coterie of supporters, seated and waiting for instructions. It did not surprise me, when they found themselves being ushered out the door by the Governing Board.

With that, I would say that our nation is best served by the Federal government in a less-centralized manner, overall. Federal law enforcement, the IRS and FEMA would be much better understood and more appreciated on the ground, rather than viewed, and speculated about, from afar. This is similar to the model of community policing, and while it, like the neighbourhood cop, is something to which it would take some time for people to adapt, it is the best antidote to conspiracy theories, which arise when people don’t have a sense of transparency from their government. Constant contact also offers the opportunity for those who might feel alienated to be consulted, as to ways in which government service might improve.

The day will come when there will be a worldwide executive. That body will need to have a strong decentralized support system in place, well before it is established. The time to begin decentralizing is now.

The Road to Diamond, Day 94: Close Calls

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March 2, 2025- Myrtle Beach was an unexpected surprise, when I was near the end of my Army Basic Training, in mid-August, 1969. I earned a three-day pass, and got to spend 1 1/2 days just enjoying a cabana to myself and the long strand of sand, with plenty of the scenery that appealed to an 18-year-old man-child. I haven’t been back there since, though I’ve been close-having visited Florence and Hemingway, as well as the Louis Gregory Baha’i Institute, in 2016 and 2018.

Myrtle Beach has grown immensely, in the past 56 years. Its popularity as a resort has kept pace with that of several other towns, up and down the Atlantic Coast. So, it was a major national concern when the city was threatened by wildfire, over the past two days. Resources have been rushed to the area, and containment of the fire stands at 30 %, as I write this.

Tryon, NC is a town I visited in 2019. I briefly considered moving there, from Phoenix, in 2011, before deciding on Prescott. Tryon and nearby Saluda are also dealing with a wildfire. It, too, is 30% contained, as of now. Tryon is prime horse country, southeast of Asheville and high upon the South Carolina state line.

I pray for both areas, knowing that there, but for the grace of God, goes our area. We expect rain or snow on Tuesday, and again towards the end of this week. It won’t do much to stave off fire, and given the current status of wildland firefighting teams, it likely falls to us volunteers to check on campsites, to make sure no embers are left to wait for a sudden gust of wind. This is exactly what brought me back from the Philippines and is keeping me close by, over most of the next six months. In a couple of weeks, our Red Cross team will be holding a dry run of a shelter set-up. A while back, I was asked to direct this exercise, and will see whether that still holds, at our meeting on Thursday.

This will be a year for many close calls. Let everyone be on the alert, that those surprises don’t overtake yourselves and loved ones.