Category Archives: Assistance

Thought Experiments

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

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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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

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.

A Pastel Day

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

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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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

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.

Urban Farms Are Essential

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 11, 2022, Gila Bend, AZ- The unruly young mare tried to nip her owner and got a slap on the nose and a sharp rebuke, from the no-nonsense mistress. There was not a bit of weakness in this woman, who has built a solid foundation for Maya’s Farm, based on what she learned up the road, at The Farm on South Mountain. I am always amused by an enterprise which begins with “The”, as if it is the only such enterprise of its kind, in a given area. Maya has done the leg work, networked with government, landowners and insurance companies, to create a second urban farm in south Phoenix. She is not done, and showed us a barren tract, nearby, which would fit nicely into her endeavour- largely backed by a Land Trust. She has little use for those who suggest cultivating a friendship with land developers, noting that all she has seen so far is fast-track housing, and nothing will change her viewpoint, anytime soon.

People go with what they experience. A child who gets a regular diet of whoop-ass is going to be either mean or skittish. A person raised to be heard, and affirmed, will grow to be confident, sassy at times, but quite solid. Maya, I think, has seen duplicity and underhandedness. Thus, she is wary of the buildings going up, just two blocks north, and of anyone who does not show “TLC” to the land.
The world needs a lot more Mayas.

Our tour, this afternoon, was called “Let’s Legume”, and featured tepary beans, Hopi Red Dye Amaranth, elephant garlic and various shade trees. The property is helped, through being bordered on the north by a grove featuring various palms. I can’t imagine living through the heat of May-October, and constantly working, but the farm crew does it. I met a few men and women who pledged their energy for the coming year. Maya does not take much time off, in terms of growing her crops, while also teaching full time, so such volunteers are a godsend.

The meal, of a grain “burger”, was one of the spiciest sandwiches I’ve had, in quite awhile, and was delectable. The fire was put out by a cup of well water, and a cookie that seemed to have nutmeg and cinnamon helped as well. Who says vegans have a bland diet?

After an hour or so at the salubrious farm, I headed west, then south, to this small farming community, at the southwest edge of Metro Phoenix. People here, where the summer temps get up to nearly 118 at times, would do well to plant shade trees and desert-hardy crops, at the level of the urban farms of south Phoenix. The Tohono O’odham, who live not far from here, are descended from people who did just that, for over a century.

Urban farms, run by serious entrepreneurs with intense energy, are essential to our survival in this period of climate change.

Safeguarding

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 8, 2022- A chirpy voice uttered a “complimentary” greeting to me, as I was leaving the building. I looked down to see a very short person, looking up at me with a radiant smile. This was either a ruse or a slightly disturbed individual, given the nature of the words-which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say, a person my age is NOT someone who is usually the recipient of such comments. We both kept walking in opposite directions, and I did not look back; there was no reason to, unless I myself was disturbed. Making a big deal of it would have been evidence of the latter.

My charges and I had just had a good, honest talk, in which I reassured them, especially a young man, that they could opt out of a reportedly graphic information presentation on matters which used to be handled between father and son, or mother and daughter. Both the boy and his female classmates seemed relieved that they did not have to sit through someone else’s idea of valid information. (The individual mentioned above was not part of that class, and was not anyone I had ever seen before.)

We live in an age when there is both honesty about matters of the flesh and gross overkill as to how soon in life someone should make a determination about his/her gender identity and as to who is to help make that determination. (My own position is that no gender change should be made, until a person is at least 18, and then, only when armed with full information on all aspects of such a change,) We live in an age when entire generations have grown up with adulterated food, air and, in many cases, water. We have no clear idea what specific effects the substances, from GMOs to microplastics to heavy metals, have had on human beings and other living things. Hormonal imbalances, along with mental disorders and early onset diseases, may very well be a result of these substances being present.

We also live in an age when there is both free flowing commentary about once private matters and anonymity, in speech, and between even people living in close proximity to one another; sometimes, between people living in the same house. One by-product of these is a plethora of confused and frightened individuals. Thus, the highly intelligent young man who was all too vocal about what he regarded as institutional overkill, in trying to influence his decision-making, which he preferred be a matter between his father and himself,

It is no secret, in this community, and on the pages of this blog, that I love young people very deeply, in the true sense of the word. I recently watched a program, in which one of the characters said, “We safeguard those we love. We keep them from harm, coming from any source.” That has been my modus vivendi, since I was probably 9 years of age. Maybe being the oldest of five children had something to do with it; maybe realizing that life is tough, no matter what age one is, had its influence. In any case, I long ago decided my life’s work would be helping young people safely realize their dreams and to the extent possible, on their own terms. That is how our son was raised, and that is how I advise anyone else.

If I again encounter the child mentioned at the top of this post, my words will be the same as with others: “Walk carefully; speak thoughtfully; live authentically; dream fearlessly.”

Celebrations and Stress Tests

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 7, 2022- The 13-year-old pulled the hood of his coat tightly over his head, keeping that head down, as much as possible, while making it clear that he was trying to follow instructions, as best he could. Such is the daily life of a recent refugee from a place where conflict rages. The reactions of people, especially young people, who are in an outwardly safe place while inwardly reeling from all they have seen and heard, smelled and felt, over the past months and years of their lives, run the gamut from manic energy to gross task avoidance to abject terror. The stress they must feel is extreme, palpable and is with them 24/7.

This is the rough part of December, for many: Pearl Harbor was attacked 71 years ago; the best friend of a good friend died two years ago; the finances of many are being hammered, as the December Doldrums, the worst time of year for investors, play out and the days inch shorter.

Of course, in short order, celebrations will pick up, as will the stock market- in mid-month. Solstice will come and the days will get imperceptibly longer. The victims of war, however, will need all manner of understanding and support. As conflicts rage, young people are living with grandparents, aunts and uncles-while their parents are back in the conflict zone-enduring God knows what. The children know, the children fear and the children tremble.

In another city, a 14-year-old stabbed herself, was rushed to hospital and thankfully was saved from physical death. Only unconditional love, which has poured out on social media and, hopefully, will pour out from her family, will restore her emotional and mental health. I saw that girl’s face in my mind, though I have never seen her image anywhere else. I heard her shaky voice, pleading to be loved.

As the First World’s and ten-percenters’ financial doldrums subside, and as the the celebrations of various holidays pick up, let us make a special effort to envelop those under stress with an uncommon love and unstoppable efforts at understanding. No child, indeed, no person, should be left behind.

False Alarms and Needs Met

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 6, 2022- Arriving on time, for a scheduled medical check-up, I found that my provider had left the particular practice. No notice had been sent by the practice, and I determined why, very quickly-they are operating with a skeleton crew, after a troublesome upheaval, a month or so ago. A veteran provider at a higher level, who has done good work for me, is still there. So, I trust them enough to have rescheduled for later this month, with another provider. It was a minor hiccup, in terms of my schedule. Breakfast at Pangaea Bakery, and being greeted by a lovely, effervescent counter person, who works hard for her customers, set the day on an even tone.

Most of the day was spent helping an equally diligent phlebotomy crew, at a Blood Drive in Prescott Valley. I was the “Blood Ambassador”, greeting donors as they walked in. The team lead, a whirling dervish of a woman, seemed to accomplish ten things in the time it took the rest of us to do one or two tasks. I learned, quickly, to just sit back and let her give staccato instructions, then proceed as directed. It was likely the first and last time I will be invited to join that particular team, but there were no mistakes and three dozen people were successfully processed.

This being the 42nd Anniversary of meeting Penny, I went to dinner. Since LeffT’s Steak House was not too far from the Blood Drive site, I stopped in for an early repast. LeffT’s is a relaxed, down-home establishment. So, when a woman came up and asked me how I liked the open-faced meatloaf sandwich I had ordered, it was no trouble to recommend the dish, wholeheartedly. She so ordered, and agreed with my positive assessment. I had a nice chat with her and her husband, on the way out.

It’s always a nice touch to make friends, from the beginning to the end of a well-spent day. Even those who seem to be begrudging can be brought into one’s corner, with patience and diligence.

Hiding the Obvious

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

December 5, 2022- The winsome, but giddy, girl asked why I was walking away from her and her friend: “Don’t you like us?” I reassured her that they were very much liked, but I didn’t want to be seen as hovering. That satisfied her, though they sought attention in other ways, for the rest of the class, including by trying to hide a cell phone-which she insisted was not there, until it fell on the floor.

Eleven and twelve year olds can be expected to try and hide the obvious. Being recognized, in the midst of the change from child to adolescent, is a comfort-even when everyone concerned knows that the means to that recognition is ludicrous. After I played along, for a bit, with the cell phone ruse, they got more serious and asked for help with an assignment-related problem.

Special needs children, on the other hand, especially those who are in the “Severe and profound” category, are unable to hide anything-especially their non-verbal cues. The only way many can communicate is with their bodies-stiffening up, going dead weight, yelling, trying to run away. They are being very obvious about saying that something in the situation upsets or frightens them. Misreading their cues, or responding with an old-school “Just give him a good old-fashioned swat”, will do one thing: It will widen the chasm even further. It is instructive that a new teacher has relieved an older teacher, who believes in corporal punishment, of her duties-after the older woman lashed out at a special needs child. The child has challenges, but has not, historically, learned from physical or loud verbal chastisement.

The obvious, with me, is that I love others’ children, as if they were my own. So is it best to give them constant, and consistent, guidance and encouragement- placing limits and channeling behaviour, as much as possible. That can best be accomplished by not clinging to past violent methods-but following a much more rigourous path of constant teaching and modeling respectful behaviour-and expecting it be returned in kind.

I choose not to hide the obvious.

Soft Landings

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 4, 2022- This will go down in history as the first time I won at “Candyland”, since 1959. The other players then were my sister, younger brother and a neighbour kid. Today, there were a friend up the road and two of her young neighbours. “Candyland”, the game, but not the fictional plantation in Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”, is the stuff of soft landings. Kids of any age can win or lose, because there is no strategy, no give and take-just pure dice rolling and advance or retreat, as the card pulled says to do. Of course, whoever shuffles the cards can pull a fast one, but why bother? Texas Hold ’em, it isn’t.

Speaking of poker, I haven’t played the game since 1974, before the heyday of Texas Hold’em. Back then, we preferred Seven Card Stud, and my own skills in the game were hit and miss. The particular logic of poker is often the sort of winner takes all thinking that routinely stoked anger in some of my friends at the time, with ridicule coming from those well-versed in ante-based card games in general, and Seven Card Stud in particular. Three guesses, as to how anger inter-playing with ridicule turned out. Poker is not the stuff of soft landings.

Some people see romance as a game of hit and miss. That is missing the point, both about love and about gamesmanship. A game, in the classical sense, has winners and losers. Love, in the true sense, has only winners. Of course, if romance-or any other by-product of love, becomes viewed as needful, then naturally there is a sense of loss. I have been in that state of mind, several times. Now, after an intense, but basically sound, marriage that physically ended nearly twelve years ago, and an equally intense, occasionally tortuous, effort to shed stored old pre-marital baggage regarding friendships with women, I have made the soft landing. Friendships with both men and women occupy two levels: A large number of people who I care about, but don’t see in the flesh all that often and a core group of people who I see on a regular basis. There is a third group, of 2-3 women, who are my closest confidantes, rating with my middle brother and my son, in that regard.

It is a world that some see as getting worse, a harder place in which to live. I don’t have their woes, but have come close at times. The parachute of the social network helps greatly, in lowering the impact, in softening the landing.