Mixed Blessings

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September 29, 2018, Prescott-

I went to an annual event, this morning, with a full intention of serving, to the best of my ability.  The day started at Hope Fest with my joining the off-loading crew, that helped the vendors  of various merchandise transport their wares from vehicle to booth.  That part always goes fairly well, as there is a highly-motivated group, with no ego attachment to their work.

This year, I agreed to serve much of the day, as personal assistant to the headliner group, which, for propriety’s sake, I will not mention by name.  The group and their manager arrived, around 4:30 pm, and after introductions, I helped them settle in to the Green Room.  I took a seat,  in the meeting area, but far enough apart from the artists that they had no one looking over their shoulders, whilst they were practicing and discussing ideas about their music.

When it comes to  these sorts of things, I am like Las Vegas.  What happens in the room, stays in the room.  At this point in time, I could not and would not tell you the things that were discussed, though there was only honourable and uplifting dialogue.

For whatever reason, however, as soon as two security guards showed up, and announced themselves as the band’s detail, one of the teens who was volunteering with hospitality showed up and said the band manager, who was on the other side of the event grounds, wanted all three of us to get out of the Green Room.  We went outside, but were readmitted by the band members, five minutes later. They apologized to us and said they saw no reason for us to be out of the room.  I wondered, though, how did the manager think to get rid of us, at that particular moment?

The rest of the run-up to their performance went fine.  I got them to select a restaurant and had them write down their selections.  The manager was included, of course, via text.  The performance was lovely, and I introduced a Christian friend to the band members.  They seemed to hit it off well enough. I even got my friend, her sister and nephew prime seats near the stage.  Then, I went and got the group’s dinners and set the table in the Green Room, waiting there with another hospitality crew member. When the band returned, I prepared to go outside, whilst they ate.  That was co-opted, though, by what appeared to be a private meeting, to which I was not invited, among the crew on the sidewalk outside, followed by  a loud, angry message from the manager (still elsewhere) to our crew chief:  “Get that guy out of the Green Room!”  Well, certainly- people are normally given privacy whilst they eat. There was no need for such anger, especially when he was not at the site.  Again, I wonder, were the band members being passive-aggressive and messaging their manager, letting him be an unnecessary heavy?

Needless to say, I left the area and went to help with the breakdown of the stage and artist’s row, as I had promised the event’s founders.   That was accomplished with a much larger crew than in past years.

My takeaway, from the behaviours of both the band and my fellow crew members, is simply to take part in the set-up and breakdown of the next such event, and leave the day to the small, self-contained group, which doesn’t seem to like newcomers.  That is, if I am even invited to participate, next year.

Aged-Out?

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September 24, 2018, Prescott-

I have heard, from a well-meaning person, that a man my age cannot handle intense romantic relations, of a physical kind. I guess it depends on the man.  Unless I find another woman who makes her way into a marital situation, I will not know as that applies to me. So, there is one moot point.

I do, however, manage to complete even a lengthy, and vigourous, physical job, to its completion, as I did on Saturday, whilst helping on a school garden project.  There is a major faith-based project, next Saturday, in which I will take part, and another, the following weekend, at Arcosanti’s Convergence, which dovetails with a Baha’i event and a nearby Pancake Breakfast.  I feel good, after vigourous work, so I don’t anticipate issues there.

I get the sense, from my building supervisors, that maybe I am occupying shoes meant for a younger person.  My immediate supervisor may well resist that, and I think I just need to stay the course, for as long as my stamina remains as it is now.

In a nutshell, I intend to keep on working, as I have said before, for at least two more years.  December, 2020, would be a good time to bid adieu, but there would have to be a younger person ready to finish out the academic year, at that point.

Embraces

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September 22, 2018, Prescott-

This is probably the latest I’ve been up, in many weeks.  Yet, spending much of the day reading friends’ posts reminds me to get something of my own out.

I was not much for physical contact, when I was a child.  Teenage brought a sense that girls were to be touched, but only if they themselves wanted.  I was all over the place, in my twenties, but still rarely gave an unwanted hug- and backed way off when the person was resistant.  Years of a good marriage largely erased the discomfort with physical contact that was so much a part of living with Asperger’s.

With Penny gone, my tendency has been more to hug, when a person seems to need or want a hug.  That also comes naturally, working with children- and I have never adopted the “no contact” dictum that was the overreaction of the Politically Correct, to incidents of molestation.  It was up to the child, whether a hug was in order, and up to me, the adult, to honour reasonable rules of decorum- above all, that physical contact be in the presence of other adults, and that I never be alone with a child, with the door closed.

This is pretty much how it is between adults as well.  I have no significant other, yet have plenty of fine friends, of, as I have said several times, of all sorts.  What I embrace, above all, is the notion of dignity and worth, to be given all whose paths I cross.

Pain

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September 18, 2018, Cave Creek-

A friend called me, a while back.  The message was that someone had been harassing her, leading to severe anxiety. We spoke for a time and I made the offer of a window of opportunity to put a good distance between her and the tormentor.   Tomorrow could be the first step in that direction.

I was raised to take action, when confronted with pain in my own life- be it physical or emotional.  Several times, I’ve had to pull myself together, and do the uncomfortable or the inconvenient, in resolving hard issues. Hey, we all have.  Life has never been mistaken, by anyone but the foolish, for a sweet bowl of cherries.

So, a week ago, yesterday, I had another tooth pulled, not because it was causing me pain, but because it was seriously infected and heart problems run in my family, on both sides. Dental issues are directly connected to heart issues. My own heart is physically in good shape, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Arrangements are being made for a replacement denture, which led me down to the office of my dentist of the past seventeen years, this evening, after work.  Then came the follow-up call to my above-mentioned friend.

Candice Bergen said, many years ago:  “Men are such jerks about beautiful women”.  To be sure, I have had a few periods of jerk-hood, and came to the conclusion that, if I didn’t have so many doubts about myself and my own worth, any obsession with beauty would not take hold. The physical frame is a fine gift of the Creator to mankind, but it is only part of the package.  Were that not so, then plain or homely people with exquisite spirit, personality and skill sets would never have a shot at much.  Were it not the case, ravishingly attractive people would never suffer pain, and we probably all know of at least one person who has suffered, either despite, or because of her/his comeliness.

My physically attractive, suffering friend (who, we both agree, is like a sibling, and no more than that) is enduring things that I, and many others in my circle, do not have to tolerate.  It happens that way, sometimes.  Life is an equal opportunity provider, of both good and ill.

I thought further of this, whilst in a small burger joint, Big Earl’s, in this, my favourite Phoenix-area town.  The very pretty teen girl who was serving me whacked her elbow, whilst loading a bucket of ice, and my paternal angst winced a bit.  She shook it off and kept on with her work.

So must we all.  I will do my darnedest to help sister-friend get through her current nightmare.  She will, eventually, find her own light.

 

Tangential, Part 2

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September 13, 2018, Prescott-

There are two kinds of events that impact anyone’s life.  Scheduled and anticipated occasions tend to get most of my attention. My niece’s wedding, earlier this year, was the centerpiece of my scheduling the entire road trip, with a gathering at a friend’s house, two weeks later, being the climax of the journey.  My mother’s 90th birthday, this past Monday, entailed careful gifting and a pleasant early morning call.   Another family event, of which I will speak closer to its happening, will take place in mid-November.  There are numerous faith-based and community events here, between now and December, that will take on an urgency, either in the minds of their organizers and/or in terms of their real impact on our community.

The second kind of event, of course, is the random, serendipitous happening.  Spontaneity is common to our species. So, a late night message from a friend or loved one will also take on a certain urgency.  A chance encounter with a good-hearted soul, or with an opposite number, will do likewise.  Dealing with miscreants, in Montreal, during the above-mentioned road trip, was certainly an example of this last.  Connecting with U.S. Federal and Canadian provincial authorities was an example of dealing with good-hearted souls.  Then, there was the run down to Florida, out of concern fro my mother-in-law’s fragile health, especially after the losses of her last-surviving sibling and one of her cousins, earlier this year. Here at Home Base, numerous things happen, almost daily, that are either on a whim or the results of several prior events-but somehow are not anticipated.

I deal better with the random and sudden, than I used to.  People’s individual concerns and events seem to be hyper-urgent, these days, so I feel the need to keep myself sharp.  Even across the country, as dear friends and extended family prepare for yet another “Storm of a Lifetime”, or maybe four such storms, I keep ready for whatever might be needed.

Spontaneity is becoming routine.

Tangential, Part 1

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September 8, 2018, Prescott- 

This morning, on a visit to Prescott Farmers Market, I spent a few minutes sitting on a bench, near where the  guest musician was playing an acoustic version of Outkast’s “Hey Ya”, accenting the powerful words of the sometime party tune.

I began to get caught up in the presence of his delightful little family, noting his daughter’s interaction with a another little girl, about her age.  As I smiled at a nearby vendor’s waving and goofing around with the singer’s infant son, the mother looked at me quizzically and I gave her the  proper explanation, as to what was happening, before excusing myself and going off to finish my purchases for the day.

I was challenged, earlier this morning, as to having been short and to the point, in my communications of late.  Simply put, I felt a lot of pressure this week, especially at work, with hard things happening to my team members, and a difficult person inserting herself into the classroom mix.  I have no problems, in particular, with the person who sent the message this morning.  We each are highly intuitive, but intuition, on a human level, is not foolproof.  One’s own fears and challenges get mixed in, invariably.  I take my own intuition with several grains of salt, and end up doing the same with other people’s observations, regarding my life.

Prescott Farmers Market, and the local Planet Fitness franchise, are places I frequent.  I notice that, with one or two exceptions, the management team in each of these places tend to keep me (though not their favoured few) at arm’s length, most likely for good reason-but what that reason has to do with me, specifically, I’m not sure.   Conversely, having the managers of a given establishment be my well-wishers is not why I avail myself of its services.  The Market does have several stalls, where I am on good terms with the vendors and can chat for several minutes, without the emotional door slamming in my face. The gym provides me with a reliable set of full-body machines and the incomparable Hydrobed, a next-gen version of the Ceragem massage bed that we had, in the Phoenix house.  Besides, the manager’s front desk assistants are uniformly more personable, and actually seem happy to see people come in, who are less than buff.

This leads me, again, to the whole culture of anonymity that seems to pervade the urban American West.  This puzzles me.  No one really seems to enjoy living as if under siege, but each of us does it, to some degree.  I have made some headway, walking to and from downtown and Yavapai College, and joining in more group activities, especially in the past two years.

I am approaching a crossroads, of sorts, which I had hoped would not be imminent until at least Autumn, 2020.  Still very much hoping to complete this academic year in one piece, the difficult academic specialist aside, I go to work each day and give it my best.  Still hoping to be of value to my Baha’i and other communities, I am a regular at scheduled and spontaneous events.  Still hoping to keep my head above water, I listen, carefully, to the voices of both support and of criticism, to glean the necessary lessons.

Part 2:  Affirmations and expectations

 

The 2018 Road, Learnings and Observations: Part 2

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September 3, 2018, Prescott-

In any stretch of time and effort, be it work or leisure, there are learnings.  Some come to us because they derive from novel experiences.  Others arise, because we become complacent, set in our ways.

I didn’t read the details closely enough, that morning in Elkhart, IN.  My eyes told me the dinner was that very night.  It would have been convenient-for me. The words actually read “tomorrow evening”.  That was convenient for the main party.  Read carefully, completely and in a wakeful state.

I crossed the bridge, from Warren, MI to Windsor, ON, without hesitation, this time.  I stayed in the proper lane, unlike on my previous run to Vancouver, three years ago.  The Canadian highways are no mystery-they’re essentially the same as on this side of the imaginary line.  Most of the problems we create in our minds are pointless.

For many years, since losing an electric cookpot to a raging maniac, who threatened to hurt my disabled wife (long story), I had been relieved of nothing.   My car’s interior had been left alone, for many years now.  On a Saturday evening, in Montreal, my lengthy walk to the Baha’i Centre gave someone, or two, a window of opportunity, which they smashed.  Gone were my seven-year-old laptop and my passport.  The computer has been replaced. The document waits for me to retake photos, which happens tomorrow. Use the money belt, even here in North America, and put the laptop in the trunk, if it is even necessary to leave it in the car at all.

When one is on the road, there are several options for accommodation.  Many people can’t abide the idea of not staying in an expensive hotel room or rented house/apartment.  Be aware of surroundings, but don’t rule out hostels, guest rooms, (clean) couches, campgrounds or even highway 24-hour, or 12-hour, rest areas.  The only things that matter are safety and hygiene.

Observations-

Even in a rundown, construction-heavy community, there are ways to mail a letter.  I don’t even remember the town, but somewhere in Missouri or Illinois, I mailed a letter back to Prescott.

People don’t seem to tailgate as much, or pass on the inside as often, the further east one drives.   At least, that’s been my experience.

Warm-hearted people may be found anywhere.  The same is true of the icy people. Most often, they work side by side.

Pay attention to body language, even when tired.  Some men of a certain age only communicate with head nods and grunts.  Then again, so do some teenagers.

Research different ways, ahead of time, to stay connected, when in the car.

Know that, in a pinch, it’s okay to cross back into the U.S., by car, from Canada, with a valid U.S. driver’s license and VA  photo id.  The reverse is not true.

Terra Shield, by do Terra, works very well, in keeping bugs away.

Lake Champlain,  Chesapeake Bay’s Western Shore and Richard Russell Lake are enchanting places, even when it is stormy.  Lake Oconee is the stuff of dreams, and crazy expensive. (No, I didn’t stay there.)

There is nothing better, when tired of the road, than just sitting for two days, in a family home, watching TCM and dipping in the pool.

Teen girls can cook, and cook well- the little breakfast place, off I-95, in Timmonsville, SC, offers proof.

Single African men also can cook well.  The little apartment which I visited, in Salisbury, NC, offers proof.

Eastern Tennessee has its share of “Heavens on Earth”.  I spent two days in just such a place.

Next time, whenever that is, I will set aside more time for  Denver, for Chicagoland, for Elkhart and for Amarillo.

 

 

 

The 2018 Road: Honours, Learnings and Observations- Part 1

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September 2, 2018, Prescott-

The forty-day journey, whose chronicle I have just completed, is now well-past the reflection stage.  The longest trip I have undertaken, since 2015, has passed without controversy, among those of my family and friends who have viewed my travels in the past, with some consternation.

There were mostly good things that happened, this summer that is nearly passed.  I want to first note those who have honoured me with their presence, in the deepest of ways.  Then, I shall note the learnings I picked up from the trek. Finally, some observations are in order.

Honours-

The first of these always goes to my family: Being in Christ Church, Philadelphia, for the wedding of my beloved youngest niece; having my son, Aram, and his girlfriend next to me during the service, throughout the reception and for much of Father’s Day.  I’m grateful to her, for having given him much happiness; being with all of my siblings, nieces and nephews and nearly all of my extended family.

My northern Nevada family has always been there for me, as well.  This year, over Memorial Day weekend, was no different.

My sister in spirit, Corina, drove an hour each way to visit with me a bit-once I got to Wilmette, but to no avail.  My arrival was way too late, so back she went, to spend Sunday afternoon with her beloved. I feel honoured, nevertheless.  Just being in the embrace of the Baha’i House of Worship is a singular honour, in itself.

Having dinner with friends in Mishawaka, IN, was a sublime blessing.  Thanks, Val and Sparky.

I cannot say enough, for the staff and fellow hostelers at Auberge Bishop, Montreal, for confirming my worth as a human being, in the aftermath of a serious loss.  I am also grateful to the agents at USAA, for mitigating that loss.  It was a joy to take lunch at one of  the restaurants of a friend’s establishment:  La Panthere Verte.  I would feel similarly honoured, again, at hostels in Baltimore and in Memphis.

One of the greatest honours is to connect with the spiritual energy of one’s ancestors. My maternal grandmother’s hometown, Plattsburgh, NY first welcomed me, and a few weeks later, my sister and a maternal cousin connected with some of Grama’s grandnieces and great grandnephews.

Penny’s family will always be my own, as well.  They helped me greatly, in the wake of Montreal.  A few days’ respite, in the family home, in Spring Hill, FL helped me rest before the home stretch, and reaffirmed our bond.  Paying my respects to her departed cousin, a few days before, in Maryland, was essential.

There are many, across the nation and world, who I regard as spiritual family. They are of all Faiths and of no Faith.  Connecting with a woman who is like a daughter to me, in Virginia Beach; an immigrant friend who is like a brother, in Salisbury, NC; and my Tennessee brother and sister of the heart, in Crossville, have made all the difference in healing a part of me that still grieves, somehow.

Being in Memphis, and feeling the pain that all of us who are of good heart experienced, the day Martin Luther King, Jr. died, was cathartic.  I had not cried in a good long while, and this overwhelming sadness brought out a lot.  Later in the day, walking along the banks of the Mississippi and along Beale Street, felt like a dirge was playing.  Dr. King honoured us all.

NEXT:  Learnings

 

The wave of nationwide strikes, protests and uprisings in the cities of Iran — Freedom Star

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This article is based on reports and videos sent by PMOI/MEK activists inside Iran Iran, July 31, 2018 – Tuesday has been the scene of numerous protests and demonstrations in cities across Iran. Strike, Protest in Isfahan: Beginning this morning, Tuesday, July 31, truck drivers and owners as well as large group of people and youth in […]

via The wave of nationwide strikes, protests and uprisings in the cities of Iran — Freedom Star

The 2018 Road, Day 21: In the Streets of Brotherly Love

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June 15, 2018, Philadelphia-

Once upon a time, a teenaged girl looked at her uncle, and wondered aloud whether anyone would care to attend her wedding, when the time came.  Uncle said, unequivocally, that he would be there and that anyone who called themselves his family would be there, too.

In reality, there was never any question. Everyone from her youngest cousin (my son) to the family matriarch (Mother) made the wedding, that will take place tomorrow, a top priority.  It’s been a few years since B was a teenager, but there has been no break, whatsoever, in the love I feel for that compassionate and powerful young lady.  She has made a solid life for herself, following her father’s example of being largely self-reliant and choosing the field of education-which probably had little or nothing to do with her uncle and aunt, on the other side of the country, being educators. I’m glad she chose teaching, anyway.  She’s darn good at it.

I arrived in Philadelphia, around 2, by way of Camden.  This was a simple matter of not getting good directions from Google Maps, finding myself on the bridge to New Jersey and turning around to get cash from a bodega, near the Camden side of the bridge.  Once that was done, I picked up my pre-ordered wedding gift and headed to the Alexander Inn, my residence for the next 2 days.

With time to spend, until the Rehearsal Dinner, at 6 p.m., I ventured to check out Philly’s street art.

Here are  a few of those scenes, from the west side of the Independence Historic District.

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Here, a father is showing his little girl the power that comes with community working together.  I found this appropriate to the present situation.  My brother has been a guiding light to all three of his children.

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The above long mural has a caption that speaks of the eternal juxtaposition of right and wrong.  The young man in the foreground is giving this matter a lot of thought. From the look in his eyes, I would say he will choose right, more often.

Well, the dinner was second to none.  The Panorama Restaurant, right on Front Street, did it up fabulous.  I am admittedly an hors d’oeuvres hound, anyway, and the grilled ahi tuna did not fail to satisfy, either.

Tomorrow, greeting Aram and meeting his sweetheart, then attending the wedding of the year (sorry, Harry and Meghan), will be a most assuredly full day.  Good night, all.