Category Archives: children

Happy Places

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 6, 2024- As I drove into the parking lot of Mayer Fire Department’s central station, a day-glo sign on a house above the road proclaimed “This is My Happy Place”. A similar notice, “Welcome to Our Happy Place”, greets visitors to the Wildflower Bakery, on the edge of Prescott’s Pine Ridge Marketplace. This led me to once more reflect on my own happy places.

The list starts with Home Base I, the cozy one-bedroom apartment where I’ve lived for the past ten years, and by extension includes Prescott as a whole. Within its confines, the city offers other happy places: Raven Cafe, Peregrine Book Store, Yavapai College’s Sculpture Garden, Wild Iris Coffee House, County Seat Restaurant, Prescott College,Lazy G Brewhouse (I stick to their Non-alcoholic IPA), Lifeways Book Store, any one of four Mom and Pop pizzerias, which I visit sparingly, these days and any one of several Baha’i and other friends’ homes. In the periphery are Zeke’s Eatin’ Place, Highlands Nature Center, Thumb Butte, Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, Willow and Goldwater Lakes, Dharma Farm and Granite Mountain.

Once outside HB I, there are the Happy Places on the road-and over the ocean: Samesun Hostel and Ocean Beach; Copper Sands Motel and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument; Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery-and the San Francisco Peaks; Brewed Awakenings Coffee House and Grand Canyon’s South Rim; Jacob Lake Inn (coming back in June, my friends) and the North Rim; every last one of the First Nations Pueblos; any number of Orange County beach towns; Santa Fe, with The Pantry and Henry & The Fish; Taos; Cuba (NM) and Ghost Ranch; Manitou Springs; Monument Valley; Tucson’s Old Town; High Desert Bakery and Coronado National Monument.

There are the Baha’i House of Worship and Wilmette Village’s center; Mishawaka and the Crisenberry Family Farm, in nearby Goshen; all of Massachusetts’ North Shore-and downtown Boston; Boothbay Harbor, Green Acre Baha’i School- and the entire coast of Maine; Cape Breton Island; Newfoundland; Vancouver Island; Amarillo, with the Fun Zone and Palo Duro Canyon; Gram’s Place-and all of Tampa Bay; Tonopah and Beans & Brew; Carson City and the Tahoe Region; Portlandia; the Olympic Peninsula; Crossville and the Cumberland Plateau; Aiken and Full Moon Coffee House; Osceola Tiger and Big Cypress; Philly’s Old City, and the Museum of Art in Wood; the ‘burbs west of Philadelphia and Glick’s Greenhouse.

There are Vannes and Daily Gourmand, in Bretagne; Makati, and Manila’s Rizal Park; Daet’s Bagasbas Beach; Luxembourg’s Old City; Frankfurt-am-Main’s Dom; anywhere on Jeju-do; Busan’s Gold King Coffee House.

Happiness, though, is in the mind and heart. The people in the above-mentioned places are what make each of them special. A few would call themselves acquaintances, most would count me as a friend and one has my heart, as no other person save my late wife, Penny, had it. Each of them, and their surroundings, bring me solace. Their list will, no doubt, grow.

Each substitute teaching job that did at least one child or teen some good, each volunteer shift that produced some good, each errand of mercy to needful friends accomplished, each hike done safely and each trip that was not a waste of time is also a happy place.

I salute everyone who offers their home or business in like manner.

Me, and THAT army

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 3, 2024- Taking my place on lunchroom duty, this afternoon, I was greeted by two young men who I hadn’t seen since the Fall of 2015. Although my work with their class lasted only three months or so, before the charter school hired a community member who was in need, the kids remember that time as being one of security and helpful instruction. I was still just getting back on my feet, emotionally, at that time, so it felt good to know that my work was beneficial.

Several people, from Grades 5 on up, have said they are glad when I am in their classroom. I share that sentiment, so maybe that’s why. It is equally a matter of sound financial practice, and the satisfaction that I get from helping children and teens build a strong future for themselves, that leads me to continue working in the area schools.

People have been wonderful to me for many years now, by and large, so any difficulties tend to get resolved and put in the rear view mirror, in rather short order. This smoothness in my personal life makes for more time to devote to the considerable tests and difficulties faced by so many other people. These range from something as simple as a lack of transportation, locally, to helping with Baha’i or Red Cross activities in areas farther afield.

Today was mostly spent giving six repetitions of a slide-based lecture, about the history and legacy of colonialism in Africa. It surprised me, as much as it did the students, as to how much I remember of that subject, from my own high school World History class (Thank you, Mr. Musgrave, for your attention to detail, back then) and subsequent independent reading. It was all good. They mostly took good notes, though, so maybe 40 years from now, someone will share this with scholars of the future.

“From whom much is given, much is expected.” My “army” of friends and benefactors makes those expectations easier to meet.

The Hermit Shares Space

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 29, 2024- The three-year-old girl wrapped her arm around a pole, while standing just above the stairs at the rear door of the shuttle bus. It was a crowded bus, and even with her watchful grandmother standing between her and the door, she was taking no chances.

Hermit’s Rest is the site of the westernmost of Mary Colter’s eight buildings that grace Grand Canyon’s South Rim. It is in an otherwise nondescript section of the Rim Trail, set away from the stunning overlooks that are signature to the canyon’s edge. Louis Boucher would have preferred it that way. He was a prospector for gold, and probably uranium, in the days before the national park was established. His trail, now called Hermit Trail, leads down to the Colorado River, some 8.7 miles one way. (If I were to hike to the river, it’d involve a camp out at Hermit Camp-not far from where Louis made his home.)

The gateway to the end of one line.
Mary Colter’s Beehive Oven, resembling a Hopi outdoor oven
South side of Hermit’s Rest store.

Neither man-made nor nondescript last long at the Canyon, though. A short walk through the trees reminds the visitor of why the trip was made, in the first place.

The Inner Basin, from Hermit’s Rest.

I began the visit at Hopi Point, where the last trip was cut short, owing to a flash flood in Tusayan, which necessitated most of the visitors having to go back to Grand Canyon Village and tend to their lodging. I was able to make the journey around the eastern route, to Cameron, and then back to Prescott, via Flagstaff. Not everyone was so fortunate, and many ended up spending the night in one of the lobbies of hotels within the park.

Today, there was wind, but no water, so all of us were able to go clear to Hermit’s Rest, or to one of the other viewpoints. I walked from Hopi Point to Mohave Point, taking in the following scene, among others.

The Colorado River has a demure presence, beyond The Battleship, from Hopi Point.
If you think that living on the South Rim is easy, this juniper pine begs to differ.
A view from The Abyss.
The Abyss also shows the effect of weathering, on the topmost layer of limestone.
Here is a view of Monument Creek, flowing into the Colorado River.
From Pima Point, a zoom lens affords a close-up of the Colorado River, without a long hike!

Finally, just when you think you’re done with the Canyon, here’s the next big thing:

The first question says it all.
If your answer is “Yes”, happy hiking-and camping!

I am not beyond that sort of adventure yet, but for today, it was time to head back, so onto the shuttle buses I went, including from the Village to the Visitors Center, which was the bus where the little girl and her family crowded on. We all got to go where we had planned, today. No rain, just wind.

Discretion

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 10, 2024- The talk show host listened, incredulously, as a woman insisted that her son should be treated by a veterinarian, because he identifies as a cat. I would recommend a different type of medical professional-for the mother. Children engage in imaginary play and fantasy-all the time. When an adult buys into the child’s mental exercises and verifies the imaginary as real-the child is, naturally, confused.

Just because one can do something, even under the law, doesn’t mean one should engage the whim. I have heard that a man is insisting on his right to use the woman’s restroom, at a place I visit frequently. This establishment has two restrooms-one for each sex. The clientele is older, and more traditional in their view of such matters. In other establishments, most transgender people I know are perfectly okay with using a “Unisex” restroom. In fact, there are several places where ALL the restrooms are unisex. They have stalls, and there are provisions for parents with children, disabled people and their caretakers, and other special cases. Common sense is not on vacation.

At a Women’s March, yesterday, a trio of men showed up and counter-protested. There is no problem there, but the men decided that the March itself deserved to be broken up. I seem to recall this happened fifty-nine years ago, in Alabama, with deadly results. A woman, who was with the counter-protesters, decided to use a bullhorn, to keep the Marchers from speaking their peace. The March had official sanction. The woman with the bullhorn did not. This matter will be taken up by the proper officials. There was no one injured today, but as Justice Barrett said the other day, the temperature needs to be lowered. Just because one can do something, doesn’t mean one should.

Common sense is not on vacation.

In large and small cities across the country, people have indulged themselves with ignoring traffic rules, weaving in and out of the traffic pattern, in small electric vehicles. Others have ignored the rules of commerce, and helped themselves to significant quantities of clothing, jewelry and other items, with the understanding that, as long as the value of the pilfered items is less than $1000, it will not matter. Just because one can do something, doesn’t mean one should.

Common sense is not on vacation.

Leaping Upward

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

February 29, 2024- There were several kids who either said they wished I were around more often or greeted me with a solid dap handshake (fingers clasped, followed by a fist bump), making this Leap Day a fulfilling one. It was incomplete, as I stumbled on a bullying victim-whose case was made to the regular staff-so hopefully there will be some resolution.

The work of anyone who is involved in social justice is getting more intense and variegated, by the day. Someone mentioned, this evening, that she was trying to figure a way to make a better world, but without being drawn into the turmoil that seems to confuse humanity. I do not see any way that can happen. Turmoil will find us, and the principles that guide a decent soul’s life will help that person to offer solutions to the presently incomprehensible issues of environmental, physiological, social and spiritual degradation that hit us from all sides.

Those who hold on to memories of a simpler time seem to think that a strong, almost dictatorial, government, rooted in the evolved religious philosophy that was prevalent in the 1950s and early ’60s, will bring about a calming of the current apparent chaos.

Conversely, there are those who see a rigid, unyielding forced march towards unbridled acceptance of even the most deviant behaviour, victims be damned and a total casting off of logic and of even human biology itself, as an extension of the reasonable treatment of those who are victims of chemically-induced hormonal imbalance. The same people give off an air of rejecting anyone, past or present, who was, or is, not letter perfect.

Neither group will bring human society where it needs to go, because inherent in each of their arguments is a false elitism, rooted in fear of the “Other”. The lesson of every experience that I’ve had this week is that there is no solution, or even a viable trade-off, without involving all sides, in the discussion, and being, as Jesus the Christ said, “alert, to discern” the roots of a holistic peace. There is strength in some time-honoured practices and there is merit in changing the way we do other things. Only giving “the Other” a bona fide hearing, with both ears open and an engaged mind, can help in sifting the psycho-social wheat, from its chaff.

It is time for us to leap upward, together.

The Beads

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Slow Food, Social, Spiritual, Striving

February 13, 2024- “Laissez les bin temps rouler”. The good times are no doubt rolling, in New Orleans, in Mobile and way down south, in places like Rio de Janeiro and Port of Spain. In the Big Easy, there’s a lot of tossing beads at those lining the parade route, but that’s just the throwaway part, and there are those whose first concern is the content of the stringed glossies.

I have been on the periphery of Mardi Gras, twice. The first time, the bus I was riding rolled into NOLA, early on the morning of Ash Wednesday, 1987. Piles of stringed beads, leftover jambalaya and crawfish pila were all over downtown, but I was told the French Quarter was already clean as a hound’s entire mouth-never mind a single tooth. The second time was on the little sister of Mardi: Lundi Gras, in 2015, as good an excuse as any to extend les bon temps to four days. Things were already red hot in the French Quarter and a woman tossed a string of beads to me, from one of those balconies that could easily have featured a t-shirted Marlon Brando calling for Stella, at the top of his lungs. I think I made do with a large slice of pizza for lunch, and had my jambalaya later, in the evening, at a nice spot in Lake Charles.

Getting back to the beads, I gave mine to a granddaughter of the heart, that summer. Now we hear that the beads themselves may contain varying amounts of lead. By now, she has probably long since tossed the cheapo stringed glossies. What appeals to a four-year-old is an eye roller, when she reaches the age of twelve. Needless to say, if I have it to do over again, I’d graciously accept the beads, and find that algae pond that an intrepid high school freshman in, I believe, Missouri, said he’s using to break down the lead-infused beads.

My Mardi Gras today consisted of a spirit walk, checking out the end of downtown Prescott’s easternmost north-south street. Cortez Street goes up a short hill, and ends as a cul-de-sac, where there is an apartment complex. Things didn’t get much more rapid fire after that- A Mexican chocolate latte, a walk past the Granite Creek mural (will video that rather charming masterpiece, on Thursday) and a workout at Planet Fitness, rounded out the good times. My Mardi Gras meal was four small Buffalo Chicken empanadas. The times, though, are good enough. I learned a lot, this evening, from a community activist’s presentation on urban gardening. There is much good afoot, in Columbus, OH.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. It is also the beginning of Lent, for Christians. I guess that means I should not eat chocolates, when walking by a church that’s letting out. Since Mom taught us not to eat while walking outside, I’m good. Valentine’s Day, this year, feels different. More on that, tomorrow. For now, here’s Ric Ocasek, with another take on Les Bon Temps.

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=let+the+good+times+roll#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:b2a6648a,vid:Zj-b3fWrY3w,st:0

Simply Put

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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

February 6, 2024- “Do not tell me ‘No’.”, the precocious five-year-old stated. So, I did what any sensible adult would do. ”No”, was all I said- and he wasn’t asking where a man might find a bed. He got the point and went off to engage in an activity that was within the bounds of the class’s purview.  I had not worked with Pre-schoolers, in eight years. The instructional day hasn’t changed much: 3-year-olds in the morning and 4-5 year-olds in the afternoon. There are 5 adults working in the morning, and 3 in the afternoon. We locked the doors to the closet, to the cleaning supply cabinet and to the hallway. A couple of kids cried, when they didn’t get their way, and I showed one of them how to resolve the triggering issue, without melting down. At day’s end, it was still raining, so we walked the bus riders through a completely enclosed route and to their designated vehicles-keeping very sharp eyes on our little charges, all the way. Yes, school has been in session for six months, but small children are small children, and I retain too many anecdotes, from over the years, of kids wandering off, going to the rest room without telling an adult or even falling asleep-on the wrong bus, and being left there, because the driver had checked off all his “regular” riders, and hadn’t checked the actual seats. The angry father all but made the Superintendent go to the bus yard, when his little girl didn’t come home, as expected.

Simply put, no stone is left unturned, anymore, when it comes to child safety, and parental nerves.

California was pummeled, again today, and will be, into tomorrow, as another Atmospheric River soaks the region, from Ensenada to the Lost Coast and from Los Angeles to the Colorado River. This, of course, means Arizona and Nevada are getting their share of wet. It rained all day, here, and now it is snowing, briskly, with six inches on the ground,as I write this, and lots more to come, overnight. I pray that friends and family in California and Nevada are safe-and that we, here, also keep clear of harm’s way.

Simply put, Mother Nature is scolding us, for the self-centeredness of all too many, who disregard her warnings.

The Blind Dancer, and Other Marvels

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 26, 2024- He danced with his beloved woman, confidently in her arms and with a serene expression, as Galactogogues gave another rousing and stellar performance, this evening. Blind since birth, the gentleman is an accomplished musician in his own right, and a regular at Raven Cafe. He is one of many marvels of our town, in his instrumentality and in his dancing.

A couple who have had a hard life, and have stuck together for over forty years, are monitoring me, since we had a disagreement about something, two months ago. They seem almost saintly, in and of themselves, yet inquire of mutual friends about my well-being, or so I’m told. It is something of a marvel, that this is even important to them. My life is not all that prominent in Prescott.

My work day began with an expectation, on my part, that this would be a quiet day, working with Special Needs children. The school is understaffed, though, and it was no surprise when I was informed by the Office Manager that my day would be split: Morning, teaching Music and Afternoon with a First grade class. After a dicey start, I was able to get access to the computer and video, in time to teach three groups of children about rhythm and tempo, using rhythm sticks, whilst listening to varying speeds of a video-based tune. Of course, they liked the prestissimo the best.  The middle school choir was self-directed, which was fortunate, as the teacher had not left plans for their class period. 

After some sober assessment of the overall situation, the OM decided that I should have an hour break, at lunch, and had me teach one more music class, using the same plan. Then there was First Grade, reading the chapter of “Charlotte’s Web, in which Wilbur decides he wants to try to spin a web of his own. Wilbur, for the unitiated, is a pig. The old “when pigs can fly” quip pretty much gives an idea of what happened next. Charlotte rightly points out that, as a domesticated animal, he is fed by the farmer, and so, is not in need of a web. A spider, on the other hand, must fend for self. The children got the point, that they are cared for, but that many people have to fend for themselves. Charlotte also compares her web to a bridge that people build-and with that, we segued into the topic of bridges. The afternoon was delightful.

Just before attending the latter part of the Galactogues concert, I joined an hour-long devotional, discussing the topic of Resurrection. We Baha’is see it as spiritual rebirth, rather than full-on re-emergence of a physical body, from the dead. I have had several dreams , over the years since Penny died, in which she had come back alive and I felt the need to re-arrange my life to accommodate her renewed presence. Realizing, upon waking, that this was only a dream, and that she is in a good place, I came to understand that her spirit is in a constant state of renewal and advancement. Indeed, whilst sitting at her grave site, in early December, I got affirmation that her spirit is pleased with, and had involvement in, my new friendship with another woman. I think that, as one of my primary spirit guides, Penny has made sure that I have all manner of friends, of both genders. One’s spiritual progress, after death, is probably the greatest of marvels.

Torn Plastic

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

January 18, 2024- The technician went over Sportage, noting the areas that will be repaired, from December 4’s encounter with the traffic cone, and a small tear in the rear door lift-not part of the claim. I can mend the latter myself, using JB Weld, or maybe a clear epoxy. 

My recent time at Ghost Ranch restored a sense of competence in matters of handiwork. It had been a long time since I did anything that involved a degree of knowledge in one of the trades. I did paint my house in Phoenix, externally and most of the interior-just not enough to feel a sense of completion. Back then, Penny’s care was more important.      

I don’t have to do much, manually, here at Home Base 1-being a renter. If my life circumstances change, though, I would want to draw on the latent skill sets that served me quite well, last week. It boils down to patience, and being able to do things one step at a time. Multitasking often works against the craftsman, the manual labourer, whose work will never truly become outdated or inconsequential.

Tomorrow, I will prepare a small item for use as a necklace, which may be sent as a gift, for an upcoming Baha’i festival. That will be another affirmation of skill set. When Sportage comes back, next week, I will repair the torn spot on the door lift. It’s all a matter of self-confidence, and patience. 

Parents, raise your children in a degree of self-reliance. The Pros and experts won’t always be available to help.

Running the Maze

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

January 6, 2024, Gallup- One of the classic experiments in Behavioural Psychology has rats running through a maze, in return for which any animal finding its way out will get a reward. 

It occurs to me that each of us can find ourselves running a maze, of sorts, in return for which we may receive a reward. I found myself working mazes, pretty much all day, and found the end, in each instance. 

Starting off, there were replies to a comment I posted on another social media outlet, regarding a local attempt at censorship. Most responders were opposed to the censorship ploy, but one, hailing back to bygone days, said that anyone going against conservative social norms deserves to be cut off. That really got the crowd going-piling on the hapless “good ol’boy”. I had to post that everyone was welcome on my page, so long as they did not advocate violence against those who hold a different point of view. I don’t go to drag shows, as they are not my cup of java. I also don’t go to rodeos, poker tournaments or gun shows. That doesn’t mean I think they should be banned, because I don’t. Parents can decide to not let their children view that format, and that’s their right. No one, though, should decide, for other informed adults, what they may see or not see-so long as the format does not include child pornography or horrific violence against defenseless people or animals. I found my way out of that maze.

Next up, there was a gathering to honour a Baha’i couple, who are leaving our area, in a few days. It was well attended, with great camaraderie and delicious food. There was one rub, for me. I talked with friends, past the time that came for me to head up to Farmers Market, and helping with breakdown. I found my way, belatedly, out of that maze and made my way through Saturday afternoon traffic, getting to the Market grounds by 12:50, only twenty minutes behind schedule. Bumping against the maze barriers wasn’t so bad.

The Market breakdown was no maze, though, and something I’ve wondered about for a while: ”How might our breakdown crew better connect with the set-up team?”  was answered, as a member of that team had stayed around, for that very purpose, and gave us hints as to how we might make their work easier. The suggestions were implemented, immediately.

Finally, there was the fairly quick packing and heading out to this old mining town, my rest stop on the way to Ghost Ranch. It turned out to be no maze. The skies were clear and the roads, bare. I am now at my standard resting place in town: The Dineh-owned Colonial/Ranchito Motel.