The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 86: The Move, The Rest and The Second Move

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August 25, 2020, Alexandria, LA-

Our day began in Beaumont, with slight overcast but gathering clouds off to the south. Tropical Depression Marco had dissipated, with little effect on the coast. Hurricane Laura, on the other hand, was shaping up to be either a Category 3 or 4 storm.


So, the preparations began for our Red Cross team, called a “Strike Team”, so named for our specific mission. Ours is to be ready for the surge of people who are likely to come to this small city, in the center of Louisiana, in advance of Laura’s anticipated surge of 10-15 feet, just south of Lake Charles.

I had a dream, last Tuesday evening, that I would deploy to this city, which I know only from a news item about three girls transferring to a private school, some thirty-five years ago. The women have likely moved on, but Alexandria has grown a bit and has taken a place as a regional hub for the mid-state.

Getting back to our day’s itinerary, the call came to pack up and move out, so we were on the road by 10 a.m. Bye, bye, Beaumont. and two hours later, Bon Soir, Baton Rouge. We got settled in our rooms, I went over to a take-out only International House of Panckaes, got a burger, onion rings and a large lemonade, walked back in a brief shower, enjoyed lunch and laid down for a brief nap. Then, five minutes later- Up and out!

That was my shortest motel stay, ever-having never engaged in illicit affairs. We were once again on the road, this time to Alexandria. My dream having transpired, we engaged in setting up sleeping cots, bringing in basic supplies and getting a decent night’s rest. We are. presently, prepared to stay here, at Rapides Parish Coliseum, for 3-5 days. That, as we learned yesterday, is subject to change-at the command of the storm.

It is likely that Laura will hammer the west central to middle Gulf Coast and several hundred miles inland, then become a tropical depression, stretching from Arkansas to Cape Cod, via the Ohio Valley and mid-Atlantic Coast, before returning to tropical storm status and heading for Nova Scotia.

It”s going to be a long week for many-and we still have room in our hearts for those suffering from fires in California and in Globe, Arizona.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 84: The Sodden Ground Trembles

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August 23, 2020, Beaumont-

A tall, gracious young woman greeted us at the door to Cracker Barrel, which was the group’s dinner choice, this evening. Jarae then found herself to be our server. A delightful person brought delightful comfort food, and we continued to prepare, physically and mentally, for what could be a double whammy-or a bust.

What concerns me most about the Bayou Country-from Aransas Pass and Matagorda to the south, Spring and Katy to the west, Livingston and Lufkin to the north, and everything east, as far as Dothan, is that the ground is sodden, saturated. The bayoux, the creeks and the rivers can take some more water, but the ground around them is spongy and won’t absorb much more. Two storms in a row may or may not overwhelm the area, but they will deposit a goodly amount of water, and there will be twelve more weeks of Hurricane Season remaining, I see the potential for shades of 2005-and if you remember, we ran out of people names for storms that year, It even sent a hurricane into the South Atlantic-in January, 2006.

So, on that cheery note, I can only say, we are the A-Team, from Arizona, and LA/TX is in good hands.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 82: Call of Duty

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August 21, 2020-

I had a sense that this down time was getting too humdrum for the Universe’s liking. After a few minutes spent wrangling about the best way to counter sex trafficking, there came a phone call.

Two tropical storms are approaching the Gulf Coast states. Each is expected to hit that region on Tuesday, after wreaking havoc in diffferent parts of the Caribbean. The call was for me to go to Texas-specifically to Beaumont.

I’ve been in that area a few times, though not as a Disaster Response volunteer. I do know just how much water can fall in the bayou country-from Houston, south to Padre Island and east to Biloxi and Gulfport. Without going into detail, we volunteers need to be absolutely on game, ready to give any and all disaster victims our very best.

Someone pointed out, with regard to rescuing trafficking victims, that there is no room for hodgepodge or for guessing games. The level of professionalism needs to be at the very highest. The same is true, in a different theater of operations, with disaster relief.

I will keep in touch, from Beaumont and wherever else I may deploy, over the next several days.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 81: No Dichotomy

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August 20, 2020-

I have written, on another medium, about both regarding the right of a human being to care for own body to be sacred and the right of a child to life as also being sacred. I see no contradiction between the two, but our society has allowed itself to view the two as somehow at variance, in certain cases.

I see this as one result of our movement away from the concept of the sacred. This does not specifically have to do with “unchurching” or movement away from long-established organized religions. It has more to do with the rising of uncertainty, of insecurity in people’s lives, in this time of massive, and sometimes instantaneous, transition. It opens the door for a relatively small number of people, with untoward views of how to attain population control, to seize control of a debate which did not even need to happen.

There will always be adults who are uncomfortable, even hostile, in the company of children. There will always be those who don’t understand the nurturance of infants and toddlers. They were either mistreated, or not treated at all, in their own infancy and childhood, or are of a temperament that doesn’t mesh well with the organic nature of child behaviour. They prize strict order and predictability in their world. These are the vanguard of the Abortion Lobby, and of the nascent Neo-Eugenics movement, which seeks to bring about social acceptance for the killing of newborns with certain disabilities.

That this segment of society should link arms with the political Left, that element who have, for so long been associated with inclusion, and who have been in the vanguard of genuine progress in the advancement of women, people of colour, sexual minorities and immigrants, is both cognitively dissonant and profoundly concerning. The linchpin here seems to be the right of a woman to decide what happens to her own body, a right that has always existed in the sight of God, but has, for so long a time, been slighted by patriarchal thinking.

A person who has been relegated to the back of the line, in self-determination, who has not been loved and nurtured by those around her, who feels totally alone and friendless, is easy prey for those who hold a skewed understanding of population control. Abortion of a pregnancy, which in cases of an unviable fetus may well be medically necessary, is now being promoted as a mere option, an elective procedure, one of many ways by which a person may exercise birth control. A subgroup of the Abortion Lobby has even hit upon the aborted fetus as a resource- a source of organs to be harvested, a source of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, a source of stem cells for research and for vaccines.

Women who are pregnant, regardless of circumstances, need and deserve to be completely enveloped in a culture of love. They neither need nor deserve judgement, from a standpoint of shallow morality, nor do they need or deserve to be the foils of those who, either consciously or unconsciously, detest infants and children, seeing the innocent and vulnerable as simply a means to an end. A loving culture feels the pain, sorrow and confusion of a woman or girl who is at wit’s end. A loving culture presents, and discusses with her, all the options available in this most personal and delicate of circumstances. It honours her informed and well-considered decision. It helps her heal.

Indeed, it is a shorter step than many in the Abortion Lobby realize, from the practice of their craft to the organized trafficking of children, a phenomenon from which the majority of abortionists would, no doubt, recoil in horror, but which nonetheless is a clear and present danger.

We, as a society, have one long-term choice-to return to a place in our hearts where all life is sacred.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 68: Staying Authentic

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August 7, 2020-

There is a fact of life, especially in today’s America, that owning one’s viewpoint, life choices and spirituality comes at a cost. There are always going to be those who think they know your needs better than you yourself know them. Being in charge of own life is not a cakewalk. Others, especially online, will appear, with demands, expectations and preferences, which may or may not dovetail with what one has planned.

You may say, “Well, isn’t that how it is, in ANY social situation?” Yes, and with seven billion and umpty-ump million people on the surface of the Earth, it will get more intensely so. The fact remains, however, that at the end of the day, it is whether I can look in the mirror and honestly say that I lived the day in a state of integrity, hopefully tempered with humility, that makes the day well-spent, or not.

I have been questioned, recently, as to why I might agree with points raised by conservatives, on one day; then agree with points raised by progressives, another day. The answer is easier than it looks. Neither group is qualitatively engaged in refuting the other’s points, with regard to those points with which I am agreeing. For example, if I say an unborn child ‘s life is worthy of EVERY reasonable effort at maintaining its efficacy, that does not mean I am advocating vicious hounding of a woman who is heading into an abortion clinic. In reality, that person should not be HOUNDED or pressured by EITHER faction in the matter. She should be enveloped, bathed, in love and have all options presented to her, in a pressure-free, NON-MERCENARY atmosphere.

If someone asks me to approve or disapprove of the current sitting President, I can honestly say I approve of his work in stemming the trafficking of women and children. I honestly approve of his working with the governments of Latin American countries, in stopping the flood of people from out of those countries and stemming the influence and aggressive behaviour of gangs-especially in Central America. There are other policies of his, of which I vehemently disapprove- such as the sending of a large corps of armed DHS agents into some of our cities-without first coordinating the effort with local governments. That situation seems to be getting more consultation-based. The COVID-19 response is a whole other can of worms-and much of the difficulty lies in both individual mindsets and in the diversity of local situations, across the country-but I digress.

Essentially, my life is not meant to be lived by going about and seeking to be a font of agreement, with each person, on each issue. I have, however, the conviction that each person who crosses my path does have points to offer, that may well be of help, in making my life more authentic. This life is still a work in progress, as is everyone else’s.

My Faith will remain as is; my heart for people will stay in place; my mind will remain flexible, as we have learned that anything can happen.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 64: Breakfast On the Corner and Another Delivery

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August 3, 2020, Winslow

Every so often, even during this pandemic, I find myself leaving Yavapai County, to do what is necessary for the good of the whole. My mask and gloves go with me, of course-along with the EO supplements that are giving me all I need to keep my immune system thriving. Vitamins C & D, along with soap and water, go a long way towards making the virus unwelcome. CDC guidelines do the rest.

Now that that’s out of the way, the purpose of my short journey is to deliver some items to a friend from the Navajo Nation. These are health care items that have been sitting in Prescott Valley, since the service plane was grounded, about a month ago. Surface transport being the only way, I have made this time available.

After gathering up the items, yesterday afternoon, and enjoying a leisurely dinner at Leff-T’s, an old favourite from the early days of my life here in Prescott, there ensued a smooth and uneventful drive up here to Winslow, and Delta Motel, a funky, music-themed establishment, which is my preferred place to stay, when in this corner of the High Desert.

The Sipp Shoppe, Winslow, AZ

Speaking of corners, Standing On The Corner Park has developed into an actual park, and is the nexus of a small, but growing, downtown core. Winslow is coming back. I enjoyed a delectable, lovingly-made Mexican-style crepe, at a lovely new place called Sipp Shoppe, across Old Route 66 from the park. A gentleman was strumming a guitar and singing some satisfying Blues, even at 8 a.m. This is what life is meant to be-celebration and affirmation.

Standing On The Corner Gift Shop. Winslow, AZ
Stage at Standing On The Corner Park, Winslow, AZ

I will make my connection with my Navajo friend at Noon, then head back to Prescott directly, returning to the world of online meetings and a new addition to my health regimen: Wheatgrass juice. More about that, in a coming post.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 63: Mental Health

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August 2, 2020-

It turns out that the individual who torched the Arizona Democratic Headquarters, over a week ago, is mentally ill. Republicans, and others, who read only the part about his being a member of the Democratic Party are, predictably, chortling about how this just goes to show that it’s a big farce, orchestrated to bring down President Trump-because, hey, what else is there in the world?

The individual is mentally ill. I know, firsthand, how that feels. Everything is about “MEEE”. Imagined slights take on a reality that knows no bounds. Good people become viewed as monsters-for any number of reasons-most of which are contrived by a mind in pain. So, it came about, that an individual acted to destroy that which he deemed inperfect, and, thus, expendable.

There were all those times, in my distant past, and in more recent years, when autism led to the bouts of self-centeredness, mild delusion and not a little paranoia. It took a good deal of self-work to separate my mother’s high bar of expectations, itself grounded in love, from the blistering criticisms of some of my peers, who left no room for error-or in a few instances, even humanness. Through meditation, correcting my diet, my wife’s love, and adoption of a Faith that actually lived the love prescribed by Jesus the Christ, but ignored by so many of His followers, I achieved a sense of equilibrium.

There have been relapses, and setbacks, mostly in times of high stress. There are those who were present during those times-and who remember, all too well, how things went down. I am grateful that forgiveness, and securing my word that such behaviours will not be repeated, were their responses.

Conversely, I have striven, when confronted with other mentally-ill people, to do right by them. In one case, the person was able to get a leg up and straighten out his life. In two other cases, that was not the result, as of the last time I heard from either one. I felt the need to cut one loose, for personal safety reasons and the other, because of an increasing stridency and level of verbal harassment on his part.

It’s taken time to begin to overcome the tension I have felt, when seeing a small, older model of RV driving around or when starting up my phone, and getting more than one Instant Messenger “ping”. Realizing that these are left-over post-traumatic reactions has helped greatly.

I am ever grateful to all who have, either consciously or unconsciously, helped me put my own demons to bed. In all this time of relative aloneness, I have been able to soothe those ills, and make myself a far more useful person, amenable to this comforting society around me.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 62: What I Want in August, Part II

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August 1, 2020-

Half of any soulful person’s wish list, at any given time, is what is wanted for the community. My list, in this regard, is both simple and complex.

The simple things: Our neighbourhood children may continue to come and go as they please, safely, through the alleys, yards and creekbeds that outline their world. Instruction, whether online or in-person, starts soon and engages minds. People gather downtown, or in public parks, and enjoy their time, without having to justify their beliefs. Nursing homes are able to permit visitors, even with screening for temperatures, before too many more weeks have passed.

The complex things: Our election goes off, without a hitch, on the day scheduled. Those erstwhile friends of mine, now acting more like acquaintances, come to see past their sectarian and political blinders and look at the hearts of those, including me, who hold no ill will towards them or anyone else. Freedom of travel returns, and is not made subject to the partisan views or “one-size-fits-all” health prescriptions of either government officials or private citizens of means. Recognition that the lives of preborn children, infants, toddlers, school-age children and adolescents are universally sacred.

August is said to be a month of masculine energy. I know I will be plenty busy.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 61: What I Want In August, Part I

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July 31, 2020-

My parents were wed seventy-one years ago, today. They got to be together, in the flesh, for thirty-seven of those years. They left several good road maps for us, and Mom is still blazing the trail of how to live long and prosper. I was thinking, last night, that I will be honoured to live into my nineties, perhaps even hitting the Century Mark. I would, however, have to be of use, to have most, if not all, of my faculties.

Today, so far, has been quieter than the previous two. I received a message from an African friend, for whom I had written a project proposal, bemoaning that those to whom we had sent copies of the proposal had not responded as yet. It’s been a week, so my take is, check in with them weekly, until mid-August. He asked me to send each of them a montage of photos of the worksite. I can do that,around some other tasks that have arisen, since I turned fostering of the project back over to him. Life does not stand still.

I have thought about what I want to do, in my own sphere, as well. As hard as life is for many people, I cannot just put myself into one hundred percent abnegation, though some will no doubt find that odious of me to say. There actually isn’t all that much that I want for myself, though.


August is said to be a month of masculine energy, so the first thing I want to do is to bring some health supplies to a rendezvous point at Holbrook, close to the Navajo Nation, which is still itself off limits to outsiders, due to COVID. In Holbrook, I will meet the same friend who I met in Flagstaff, in the Spring, to transfer the items. That is Monday’s agenda.

Synergy, the health elixir cafe operated by friends in Sedona, reopens on August 8, so that will be my place of refuge and celebration, next weekend. “Double” days are most often special to me.

I also miss my farmer friends in Paulden, up north just a bit, so maybe the afternoon of the 16th will find me there. The following weekend, Friday- Sunday, will likely be a time to visit Bisbee, a vibrant and eclectic Southern Arizona cousin to Prescott

The month will climax with Farm-to-Table Dinner, on the 29th, and unless the COVID cops declare our most stringent safety precautions inadequate, I will be among the masked and gloved servers and busers, tending to a smaller, but no less fervent, group of patrons of our vibrant Farmers’ Market.

What I want is for life to go on, carefully of course, but not dancing to the tune of one group of tyrants or another.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 56: Defiance

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July 26, 2020-

Defiance is not just a city in Ohio. There comes a time when an individual must stand up and say, even holler, “No more!” There comes a time when a community, a society, a nation-even a planet full of people, must stand up and say with one voice. “NO MORE!”

After sitting in my home base apartment, most of yesterday,and responding to those with different takes on the murder of Bernell Trammell and the stabbing of Drew Duncomb. Unless and until these acts of violence are given the weight of investigation they warrant, there is, as BLM members say, “No justice, no peace”. Ditto, for the burning of the Headquarters of the Arizona Democratic Party-and I would say the same for any torching of Republican offices.

I have begun reading “Democracy In Chains”, by Nancy McLean, and am learning of a clever and insidious campaign, inspired by the life’s work of the misanthropic John C. Calhoun, initiated by one James Buchanan, late of the University of Virginia and George Mason University, and perfected by Charles Koch. Remember ALEC , the American Legislative Exchange Council? That was, and maybe still is, part of the game plan. Take power away from the common people,the reasoning goes. ‘Power belongs to those with money, with investment capital. The hoi polloi have no idea how life should be. Why trust THEM?’

So we see Senator Mitt Romney, saying that Social Security should be cut, from the oldest senior to the youngest disabled person. I do not intend this as an ad hominem attack-but Mitt Romney has his. So does every other person who has signed on to the chaining of democracy.

I do not wish to take a dime, from those who have earned it-no matter how gargantuan their fortune is. In turn, no one gets to take a dime, from me and mine. I pay my taxes. I pay my rent and utilities. I honour my debts. I give to those in need, as best I can, without becoming one of them.

So, the defiance starts there. It continues:

I honour the health protocols recommended by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, with respect to wearing a clean, well-fitting mask, when in proximity to other people; when standing in line and keeping a six-foot distance. On my own, I am not leaving the State of Arizona, barring an emergency, until mid-October-at minimum. I draw the line at taking a vaccine whose contents I do not know. That is a fight for another day, though. Immunity to a disease may be accomplished through rigourous holistic health practices: Organic diet, maintaining vitamins, minerals and essential oils; drinking alkaline water, regular deep breathing. That is my immunization plan, for the foreseeable future.

I will not bow or kneel to an ad hoc authority- no matter how well-armed, no matter how loud the voice, no matter how “popular”. I am an American citizen who follows the rule of law-not of any man, hiding behind interpretation of law. I am a World Citizen, who obeys codified law, wherever I might be.

So, no one gets to order me to stay home. I have eyes, ears and love in my heart for the people. I will know when it’s safe to leave and where it is safe to go. I don’t need to kowtow to anyone’s fear.

No one gets to order me to believe a certain way. I have my undying Faith in God, through the teachings of Baha’u’llah, al-Bab, Mohammad, Jesus the Christ, Moses, Gautama Siddhartha, Zarathustra, Krishna and Whoever founded the pure, initial forms of Wicca, various Native American beliefs and African faiths. I have my undying respect and love for conservative and progressive, alike. Those who savage one another, based on ideology, are being duped and are on a fool’s errand, with no ultimate winners. The only “winner” in this case, will be one whose mindset is founded on lies.

I will not bow to a puppetmaster-ANY puppetmaster.

Namaste and Godspeed.