Category Archives: Community

Adventine Hope

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Posted by on in American Legion, Community, Service Activities, Social

December 12-13, Prescott- It seemed this weekend saw no end to meetings and gatherings.  Saturday dawned with the placing of wreaths on most of the grave sites at Prescott National Cemetery.  The event was part of Wreaths Across America, in which I have participated for the past four years, in honour of my late Uncle Carl, who was intensely active in Wreaths, when it first started, and remained so until his passing in 2010.  Snow made it interesting, but we’ve had a white ground cover every year, except last year.  The children who participate are a major reason for its success.

Yesterday afternoon, we Prescott Baha’is had our Spiritual Feast, a worship service held every nineteen calendar days, or so, which features devotions, consultation about the business of the community and a social gathering.  We have a good rapport with each other and the home-based gatherings add to a family feeling.

In the evening, I joined the staff of Mingus Springs, for their Christmas party, also held in a spacious home, with a lovely view of the valley below.  Exquisite food, raucous camaraderie and intelligent conversation on a variety of topics lit up the four hours we had together.  The party games were both wholesome and spirited-one involving a question and answer competition between two teams, and the other an unravel-the-ball-of-tape, which involved rolling a pair of dice, and getting a chance to peel back on one of two taped balls, which had small treats inside.  Rolling doubles was required, in order to have at the ball.  It got quite energetic, when two people rolled doubles at the same time, and we were down to one taped ball.  The evening ended with the usual White Elephant gifting.  I came away with Ben Goode’s “857 Habits of Annoying People”.  I’ve seen some his other books in various truck stop diners in the Southwest.

This morning, after such a frenetic day, saw me get up a bit more hesitantly than usual.  I got it together for a short meeting, first thing this morning, then went to a Legion gathering to honour one of our members who is going to California for a while.  Of course, there was yet another full buffet. The cooks of Yavapai County do supreme justice to our community meals!  Somehow, I am not packing on the weight, but it sure is fun being part of things.

Now I am just enjoying the quiet of my little place.  Someone asked me, last night, if I found it lonesome since my wife passed on.  There are such times, but in the presence of so many loving friends, I haven’t found them to be all that frequent.  Besides, she is taking good care of me, from the place beyond the veil.

I called my replacement teacher, this evening, and will meet with her, at the end of December.  In the meantime, the kids and I will finish up our quarterly business, and I will tie up loose ends, before heading off to Boston, at the end of the week.

Acker Night

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Posted by on in Community, Education, Social

December 11, 2015, Prescott- What could be more American than jazz rock belly dance?  That was one of the features of this annual education fund raiser, that graces Courthouse Square, and most of the businesses that surround it, every second Friday of December, from 5-9  P.M.

The fusion number, “Jingle Bells”, was done by the ladies of Flying Nest Dance Studio, and took place in the area once occupied by the Bird Cage Saloon, now occupied by a lovely outdoor theater.  Bird Cage burned down, two years ago, and has since relocated a block or so to the south, on Prescott’s Whiskey Row.

I spent about ninety minutes soaking up the crisp air, crowded downtown and a variety of musical efforts, after enjoying a hot bowl of Murph’s albondigas soup,cheesecake and coffee, at Shannon’s Deli.  Shadowbox String Quartet, four young ladies who are among my favourite local ensembles, performed several tunes, en classique, at the Old Sage Bookshop, in the boutique area of Hotel St. Michaels.  I then crossed the street to Bashford Court, another venerable indoor mall building, to hear several selections from the Christian and folk group, Manzanita Road.  After checking in at Clothes Hound, also on Whiskey Row, I found that Lady T and The Tramps, a  country and classic-rock cover group, which features a friend from Chino Valley, had finished for the night.  So, it was off to Lifeways Book Shop, for more Rain Forest coffee, and the delightful acoustic tunes of The Larsens.  As a bonus, I picked up a book that is sure to delight my little darlings, next week:  “The Man Made of Stars”, by M. H. Clark.

It’s been a tough week, but thanks to Acker Night, a couple of re-assuring horoscopes, more reassurance from friends, and an extended olive branch, the road ahead looks better.  Now, if we could only do something about Wall Street.  Oh, well, ya can’t fix stupid.

Pandering

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Posted by on in Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Social

December 9, 2015, Prescott- One of the things that harkened the collapse of the Roman Empire was the degree to which the elite maintained power by appealing to the baser instincts and cravings of the  masses.  I see a fair number of parallels between Rome, and both the United States and the Islamic State.  Both current entities maintain their status quo by pandering to the xenophobia and self-absorption of those who have struggled to merely make ends meet. How odd, that the worst of politicians maintain control by villifying those who are just like them.  I see little difference between the xenophobes here, and those in Iraq and Syria.

I am seeing this unfold, too, in local communities.  Those who grasp at power will obfuscate, dissemble and spread rumours, to keep those they fear from getting involved too intimately with their public.  This happens both in government and in business- especially in “non-profit” enterprises.  I have been invited to join an effort, and have seen others be so invited, only to have the leadership who issued the invitations devolve into games of “gotcha”.  They, too, pander  to the fears of some whom they serve.

True public service puts the needs of those who are being served above all other considerations.  When last I checked, such needs did not include having one’s baser instincts honed and exacerbated.

San Bernardino

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, Personal Values

December 2, 2015, Chino Valley-  I was involved in overseeing a series of lessons, holiday song practice and the making of decorations for our classroom.  Then, there was the pilfering of a math test master copy, which did the thief no good, as I simply switched to Format B, for tomorrow’s assessment.

Then came news of the latest horror, the killing of 14 people in San Bernardino.  I have been through the Inland Empire many times, most recently visiting nearby Riverside, whose downtown I find quite enjoyable.  I have only driven through the edges of San Bernardino, and my feelings for the place have been mainly vicarious compassion and concern.  I was worried during the serial arsons of 1980-1, when it appeared someone was dedicated to taking out as much of the city as possible.  During the Big Bear hostage-taking and murders, a few years back, I felt an ominous twinge, that the shooter might bust out of the resort town, and engage in further mayhem, down the mountain.

Today’s events, unfortunately, come as no surprise.  “Berdoo”, as some have called it, has always presented itself to me as a city on edge.  The shopkeepers and wait staff in area restaurants have seemed to be of shorter tempers than in other parts of the I.E., and certainly other parts of California.   The city has its charms, and it would be a fine thing if those were accented.

Now, however, we see another dark day, shaking the calm that had started to set in, a few days after the carnage in Colorado Springs.  I always feel we need, as a nation and as a species, to close ranks around the suffering, and most definitely in both of the most recent episodes.  No city, no community, should have to hang its head in shame, and no place ought to feel abandoned by its neighbours, or by the rest of humanity.

As the answers come forward, regarding the reasons behind this latest attack, let us tell San Bernardino:  “It’s going to be alright.  America is with you, and the nation will not forget this day- anymore than we would forget the terrible anniversary coming up:  Sandy Hook.”

A Thin Line of Defense

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Posted by on in Community, Inner Struggles, Social, Spiritual

November 30, 2015, Chino Valley- A couple of things happened yesterday, which made me realize, again, that life and fortune are fleeting things- if for no other reason than that we might come to value them.

The New England Patriots lost their first game of this season, which was not surprising, given that most of their marquee players are injured.  I hear and read so many sports commentators rail about injuries, and how they “cheat” good teams of victories- as if there is some sort of injury puppet master out there, just waiting to mess up everyone’s good time.

The fact remains, professional sports, especially  American football, and ice hockey, are intensely physical sports, given to the sorts of injuries that derail golden dreams.  The film, “Concussion”, which enters theaters on Christmas, will outline some aspects of the nature, and impact, of injury on the practice and business of professional sports.  The recent revelations about the injuries suffered by the late, legendary Frank Gifford underscore the media’s spotlight on the matter.

The second reminder came as I was driving.  A mobile home, pulling a flatbed trailer, with a motorcycle on it, was about 500 feet in front of me, on a lonely stretch of road, between the small towns of Aguila and Congress, in west central AZ.  The driver either was nodding off, or misjudged the width of the road, because the trailer’s front right rim hit a signpost, and bounced a bit.  Shards of metal flew back, but fell to the road in front of my safely braking Nissan.  The driver of the mobile home slowly, but steadily, brought the vehicle to a stop on the shoulder of the road.  Two vehicles behind me were able to more safely pull in behind the RV, and render assistance.  Everyone must have been okay, as I didn’t see any fire trucks or police cars headed from Congress, which has the nearest First Responders.  My cell phone had no service, in that area, so the best thing I could have done was to keep on going, which I did.

I thought of how narrow a skin of life we have, and of how close I was, being saved from harm only by staying a safe number of car lengths back.  Time must have more in store, for all concerned.

The Road to 65, Mile 364: The Stuff That Matters

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Travel

November 27, 2015, Chula Vista-  The brisk walk from Aram’s apartment to the area’s Costco was a two-mile round trip.  I carried a small box, with salad fixings and a brick of sharp cheddar.  I could have driven, or taken the bus.  Instead, I was inspired, both by my own tradition and by a tourist in New York, who preferred to walk uptown from One World Trade Center, so as to “see what I’m passing.”

Having made two long journeys, this past year, I can say I saw alot.  There are differences between the Pacific Northwest and the Gulf Coast, but also key similarities.  Both are humid and moist.  Both have people who are passionately close to the sea.  Both require crossing starkly beautiful deserts, if one approaches by road or rail.  Both have compelling stories to share and both have celebratory traditions.  The Native Americans and First Nations peoples of Oregon, Idaho, Washington, British Columbia and southeast Alaska have civilized traditions and lore going back thousands of years.  So do the Cherokee, Creek, Choctaw, Miccosukee, Alabama, and the hybrid nation we call the Seminole.  The story of the Aboriginals of North America matters, immensely.

Having hiked up Mt. Verstovia, along East Glacier Trail, six miles around Ketchikan, all over Manzanar, on two more segments of Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, and along the Prescott Circle, not far from my place of residence, I feel continually blessed by nature, health and mobility.  The environment matters, enormously.

I spent time among the historical remnants of early European settlers and missionaries, in Santa Barbara, San Luis (now called Tallahassee) , San Antonio, Wrangell and Sitka.  They wreaked havoc on those they found in the area already, thinking that educating the “savages” and exploiting the natural resources were their twin obligations to King and Country.  Their successors followed suit, and I saw the results- some worthy of respect, (Tonopah, Bellingham and Moscow,ID), for the honest labour that modestly claimed a share of the resources of land and sea.  Others, like the ravaging of Native Peoples in Sitka and Hoonah, the slaughter of Chinese immigrants in Hells Canyon and the internment of Japanese-Americans, as recorded for posterity, at Manzanar and Poston, stand as reminders of just how far we have to go.  The historical record matters, tellingly.

I returned to work, towards the end of this, my 65th year, secondarily to recoup some of my financial resources, but primarily because the well-being of yet another rising generation needs whatever champions who can arise.  I will work another five years or so, as long as my health and the goodwill of the powers that be remain strong.  The people we call “Millennials” and “Generation Z” matter, beyond measure.

I will miss Margaret and Ardith Lambert, Tom Boyd, my Xanga friends who called themselves Inciteful and Sister Mae, and feel the losses of several friends’ parents, whom I never met, but sense their character, in the people their children, who are my friends, have become.  Losses matter, achingly.

I visit with my son, not as often as I would like, but when our mutual schedules permit.  I communicate with my immediate and extended families, again not as regularly as is desired, but often enough that we know we are there for one another.  I visited with an elder in Colorado, at the beginning of this year, attempted to spend time with another elder in Florida, though to no avail, and did visit with people I regard as family, in Alabama, Mississippi, California,Nevada, Washington and Alaska.  Family loves, quarrels, understands, misunderstands, hides, seeks and ultimately stays in bond.  Family matters, indelibly, and yes, to answer an online friend’s plaint- family includes friends.

Central to all has been Faith.  Looking back at the past 6 1/2 decades, I could never have survived my own missteps and foibles, or the trials sent my way, without knowing that there is something greater, Someone Indestructible, always seeing and caring.  Belief, and the Faith Community, matter, in primacy.

So, my road to 65 nears an end.  It has been vast, long, alternately wide and narrow, by turns straight and curving.  It started at the end of a year of intense expansion of personal boundaries and ends at the beginning of a year of unknowns.  Decisions made by others will figure greatly in my course of action.  Time goes on.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 361: Paper Turkeys

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Posted by on in children, Community, Education, Personal Values, Striving

November 24, 2015, Chino Valley- Today was the last day of school before Thanksgiving Break.  The concept of a two-day work week is a bit foreign to me, but I will take it, gladly.   It’s the season of my birth, after all. I had the kids do homework, last night, and maintained my regular teaching regimen today, with one adjustment:  Many children treasure the idea of making paper turkeys and Pilgrims. So, we spent the afternoon class hour, before P.E., following tradition. One little girl made an Indian headband, with a paper feather sticking out.  Some made separate turkeys and Pilgrims.  Others designed turkeys wearing an Elizabethan-Era hat.

This sort of fun activity, for elementary school students, harms nothing and no one.  Some will say that “The truth about the Pilgrims must be told!”  Yes, it does need telling, and to people who are of an age at which the black, the white and the gray can all be processed, and sifted out.  Sharing such information, too soon in a person’s life, is exactly what has brought on the excesses of Political Correctness.

The Pilgrims and Puritans were dour, narrow-minded people, as regarded those of other faith traditions, both European and Aboriginal American.  So, too, were the Spanish and Portuguese.  Many of the Founders of the United States were slaveholders, men of their time.  The best of these slaveholders were progressive in other ways, and some educated their chattel-people.  None of that excuses their slaveholding, but therein lies a tale of lives lived in the gray.

I teach older students, when I am with them, to avoid throwing the baby out with the bath water, as it were.  There has been, is, and will be, no public figure, aside from the Messengers of God, who is a paragon of perfection.  Every person worthy of emulation also has aspects of his/her life that are less than savory, even despicable.  So, one must choose the good elements, and sift out the bad- Wheat from chaff, as The Christ told us.

I will long adhere to things like playing Hallowe’en and Christmas songs, encouraging holiday art, and having birthday parties, when a child’s parents request them.  Childhood should not be frayed at the edges.  It’s when we have time to learn who we are, and build a firm foundation for life’s course.

Bring on the paper turkeys!

The Road to 65, Mile 360: In-Gatherings

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Posted by on in Community, Personal Values, Social

November 23, 2015, Chino Valley-  There are all manner of get-togethers this time of year, and this little town will have its share, including one that I will visit only briefly, on Dec. 5, before I head down to Tucson, for another brief visit.

Time is tight, in the Christmas season, as both celebrations and the business of the day must get their fair share of one’s attention.  Then, there are online and telephone “meetings”, to which I devote myself for 15,30 or 60 minutes, based largely on my intuition, as to the other party’s state of mind.

From time to time, I come back into contact with people I knew as a child and teen.  Old friends from Xanga and long-lost relatives also surface, when least expected.  Each of them has done me some good, just by having been in my life, at some point.  It is interesting to see how each of them are doing, as well.

I spent about thirty minutes, on Saturday, messaging a childhood neighbour, back and forth.  He has had his share of hard times, and it sounded like life could be better for him, even now.  This all made me feel far more fortunate, despite the travails of 2003-11. If I ever get to his neck of the woods, I will certainly call on him, and he’s always welcome here.  Heck, you all are- just not all at once. 🙂

The Road to 65, Mile 356: Positivity in the News

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Posted by on in Community, Education, Inspiration, Uncategorized

November 19, 2015, Chino Valley- Day Four of my friend’s Positivity Week looks at good news from the mass media.  I find two such reports today.

One, in the Chino Valley Review, (http://cvrnews.com/main.asp?SectionID=1&SubSectionID=446&ArticleID=61041), details our school’s annual Science Fair.  Two of my current students won First Place ribbons, though in fairness, most of the preparatory work on this was done by my predecessor and the leg work, by the boys’ parents.  The ideas came from the students themselves, which is the main thing.

The second, reported on Phoenix-area television, concerns a nine-year-old boy and his emotional-support animal, a pot-bellied pig, which he had named Maggie.  The animal was the subject of an anonymous complaint, leading to the City of Chandler moving to force the family to get rid of  Maggie.    The family, their neighbours and animal-rights activists banded together and, citing the Americans with Disabilities Act, persuaded the city to reverse its decision.  The one down-street neighbour who raised the objection has also relented.

These past two weeks have had lots of bad news, but the brightness is also here.  The light is building, even as darkness rises in clouds.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 351: Marmalade Chicken and Old Bullwhacker

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Posted by on in Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith

November 14, 2015, Prescott- The nice thing about most Saturdays is that they tend to be the most open-ended day of the week.  Today, for example, gave me a chance for a haircut, though not to visit the Farmer’s Market.

The trade-off came with the commemoration of one of our greatest Holy Days:  The anniversary of the Birth of Baha’u’llah.  As I explained a day or so ago, we Baha’is now observe this Day in tandem with the anniversary of the Birth of Al-Bab.  The spiritual power of these “twin” Holy Days has yet to be seen by humanity-at-large, but it is felt by me, and millions of others around the world.

About twenty-five of us gathered at the home of a retired physician and a retired pharmacist.  We shared the account of Baha’u’llah’s early life and several prayers, then enjoyed yet another fine Persian repast, prepared by the ladies.  Among the particular delights were two types of chicken:  Rosemary and marmalade.  These give me two more ideas for the crock pot, this winter.  Lamb meatballs were also delectable, but it would take me lots more practice to get those done right.

After tarrying and conversing with my fellows-in-faith, a bit longer than usual on a beautiful afternoon, I headed home, changed clothes, and course, hitting the trail on Segment 7 of Prescott Circle Trail.  The northern half of this segment occupied me from 3-6:30 P.M., and takes in about 4.5 miles, between Watson Lake and State Highway 69.

The area is one in which I have driven several times a week, while glancing over at the wilderness between several industrial parks and one of our major shopping plazas.  Today, I got to walk that wilderness.  Largely scrub oak forest and tall grass, it traverses an old city landfill, now home to a medium-sized herd of deer, and a pristine valley, looking somewhat like a bowl, carved by two creeks, over thousands of years. Here are some shots of the northern half of Segment 7.

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This is a southern extension of the Peavine Trail, part of the Rails-to-Trails Project.  It follows an underpass at the junction with Prescott Lakes Boulevard, the connector road from northeast Prescott to State Highway 69.

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This scene, and the next one, are atop the former Prescott landfill, now left to area wildlife, and their admirers.

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                                            This crushed rock bed serves as a drainage medium.

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  Coming down off the landfill site, I crossed this dry wash, then went past the Yavapai County Justice Center,  a juvenile court.  There was no activity there, today.

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                  Several bicyclists shared the trail with me today, coming quickly downhill, into washes like this.

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This area, west of a WalMart, of all things, is as quiet and unassuming as any woodland in Prescott National Forest, some three miles further south.

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        From the ridge above the “bowl” seen above, I had this view of the hazy hills to the west and northwest.

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                        Atop Old Bullwhacker Hill, I saw the southern half of Segment 7.

At the foot of Old Bullwhacker, I found another copse of trees and a dry creek bed, between two shopping centers.

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This trail leads to a culvert, through which one may pass under the busy AZ Highway 69.

As I was wending my way back to the Peavine Parking Lot, I got a call from Aram, filling me in on some news from his end.  After a ten-minute conversation, I looked down and saw this little affirmation, from the Universe.

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