The Penske Chronicles, Day 4

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December 29, 2025- The normally effusive server seemed terribly unnerved by something, knocking over water glasses and delivering a cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand. I have been in a similar state, long ago, in a diner back East, so my empathy was present. Her more composed co-workers helped her keep steady, at least, and my meal was perfectly delicious. Still, I was concerned for her equilibrium and left a larger tip than usual.

This set me to thinking. Today’s post recognizes ten of the local people who made the most significant impressions on me, these past fourteen years. Not in order of importance, they are:

10. My hiking buddy, Akuura Kulak. Besides being equally enamoured as I am, of the beauty of the Southwest, and of Arizona in particular. We also have a similar appreciation for the cuisines of East and South Asia. She is a spot-on reader of people’s astrological charts and purveyor of scents, as well as essential oil blends.

9. My co-worker at Soup Kitchen, John Davidson. John is like the snarky dorm buddy that I missed more than I had thought. He is also a hard worker, running a local food pantry, as well as being a constant for Solid Rock Christian Fellowship’s community outreach activities.

8. My landlord, Robert Mosquera. Robert has never skimped on getting fixes for anything that has been out of order or broken, these past twelve years. Our complex is a simple operation, and his family occupies half of the units, but I still got more bang for my buck here than almost all of my friends in other rental situations in this area. Robert also was an enormous help today, getting a large sofa/hide-a-bed to Goodwill. It was one of those hard-to-sell items, but we got it done.

7. A consistent friend and supporter, Judy Russell. Judy has gone the extra mile in just about anything she’s done since moving here, 25 years ago. Service to our shared Baha’i Faith, to her apartment complex and to her employer, Yavapai College, has been exemplary. She was a great help, in housing my daughter-in-law, when Yunhee came here, in 2021, ahead of Aram, who was still in transit from Korea.

6. The Yetman Family: Carol and Dick, their daughter, Kathleen and her husband, Cole. This wonderful family has been instrumental in the success of Prescott Farmers Market, in the Solid Rock Soup Kitchen and in back-to-school supply events at Prescott United Methodist Church.

5. JayLene and David Long. The driving forces of Prescott’s premier fall event, Hope Fest, the Longs have transcended personal suffering and gone the distance to provide this community with a stellar faith-based day of service to the homeless and less-fortunate. The music is superb and the activities, from legal aid to haircuts, have given help to hundreds, if not thousands, over the years.

4. Molly and Gary Beverly. These farmers of Chino Valley have been driving forces in so many areas, but the greatest of these are Slow Food Prescott and Friends of the Verde River. Without SFP, school gardening initiatives might have languished and proper knowledge and respect for Heirloom agricultural products of Arizona might not have been as widespread. Without FVR, there may not have been a successful Save the Dells, which in turn has protected the Prescott area’s most unique natural wonder: Granite Dells. The Beverlys also have one of the finest farms in the area, and once had a natural swimming hole.

3. The Schaelling-Pena Family. Dharma Farm, the family of seven (and sometimes, ten), and Landen’s indomitable efforts at sustainable living and Permaculture, coupled with Holly’s gentle guidance of five beautiful children, made my occasional visits events that I could have enjoyed on a weekly basis. It was a tonic, being there and seeing young toddlers with a sense of responsibility for one another.

2. Carl Brehmer. One of the most erudite and skilled musicians I’ve ever known, a small farmer and craftsman, and certainly one of the most caring souls that the Prescott area, and our Baha’i community, can count on in a heartbeat. He was an earnest, loving caregiver to his late wife, Marcia, who also ranks as a powerful presence, with her work in fostering awareness of ADHD, both in children and in adults.

1. Meg Bohrman. Another of Prescott’s astonishingly-talented and caring musicians. Meg is everywhere, when there is a faith-based event or things like the Women’s March, the Tree-Lighting ceremony or anything sponsored by the Coalition for Compassion and Justice-or a chance for a concert by Galactogogues, or a solo stint. I first encountered Meg at a dedication event at the Unity Church, when she stood on the sidelines and cheerfully played her accordion. It’s been fabulous music ever since. Her husband, Thatcher, has been the quiet, supportive presence at just about every gathering she either headlines or performs in a supporting role.

A special mention begs here: Melissa Monahan, and her beautiful family, without whom a lot more time would have been needed for me to recover from the loss of my wife and from the missteps of the years that first followed that loss. Melissa has brought the healing element of do Terra, a commitment to true natural healing and the welcoming presence of a stable and loving family. She is also a local pioneer in the cultivation of microgreens and has been a sterling example, to me, of what it means to be a grandparent. She has arguably been my best friend in Prescott.

As with any short list, there is that roster that could go on forever. My life here would also not have been as rich and healing without my Prescott Cluster Baha’i family: John Lambert, his sister, Tammy and late wife, Margaret, Linda and Randy Smith,Gladys Stewart, Mary and John Passamani, Deb and George Konizer, Pamm Sosa, Dave and Annie Lovell, Steve and Tauby Calrow, Steve and Sharon Stone, Frank and Ellen Assadi, Claudia and Donny, Ellen Buccholz, Susan Bensch, Jerry Gardner; without Joe and Sandy Gorraiz and all the regulars at Ernest A. Love Post 6 of the American Legion; the Monday Coffee Klatsch ladies; Ashley Fine and her daughter, Sedona; Dawn Wasowicz, her daughters Arin and Brooke, and late husband, Jeff, who have made Rafter 11 such a staple of my weekends here; Allan, Bea, David, Glenda, Lloyd and Nichele-the Taco Tuesday regulars at El Gordo; The Cheektones, Jonathan Best, the Howard Brothers, Scandalous Hands, Candace Devine and Lake Francis Case, the grand family of Prescott musicians, who make the Raven, and the Courthouse lawn, so vibrant and experience; Annie Baker, Kaolin Young, Emily, Lena, JB Campos, Paul, Keaton, Marie and all those who make the Prescott Farmers Market such an integral part of anyone’s Prescott experience; Karen Pimentel, Tom Altavilla and my Red Cross family, who taught me the skills necessary to engender public safety; and finally, the workers and clientele at Monday’s Soup Kitchen: There is wisdom to be found in every soul’s story.

Tomorrow afternoon, I leave an empty and clean apartment, but I will never leave this beautiful place and all the people mentioned above, and more, in my mind and heart.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 2

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December 27, 2025- It sits across the street, like a monument to the end of an era. There it will receive its load, over the next few days, as my Prescott home is dismantled. It will “watch” silently, as furniture collectors come and go; as a cleaning crew arrives to remove twelve years of my footprint.

This Penske and I made it to the former Home Base I around 8:30, this evening. There was no one around, and as I collected a small amount of mail & newspapers, the night remained silent. Only the heater interrupted the stillness, providing its comfort with an occasional clanging and blowing.

The day started out much differently. Almara Inn’s housekeepers, a spirited team of three women, were on the job and bantering, not long after I got myself together. One of them, seeing no vehicle in front of the room, thought I had left and was delighted by the prospect of finishing early. I didn’t dampen her spirits by much, though, as I was out by 9:30.

Breakfast at Del’s was a quiet delight. The house was full, and my meal, ample. Two families were among the crowd, quietly keeping conversation. Two little girls, one clutching a doll, made me think of our Hana. It doesn’t take much to bring her top of mind. That will probably be so, for the rest of my life.

The road west was fairly uneventful. I was reminded, at a fuel stop in Albuquerque, to avoid tight spaces with this rig. No harm done, though, and I was able to gas up there, and again in Holbrook. I stopped for lunch at Dancing Eagle, in Laguna, and opted for the casino snack bar, over the busier full service restaurant. The small crew at the snack bar was working just as hard, and prepared a decent chicken quesadilla.

The storm that had ravaged southern California, earlier this week, made its presence known as I went through Flagstaff. It was no where near as fierce as it had been, though, and by the time I reached the Sedona junction, there was no sign of precipitation. The sizeable group of travelers kept in order, and we all made it safely downhill.

Once off I-17, there was scant traffic, and on up to Prescott we went-the last time I will make that trip as a resident. Three more days, and this soon-to-be Texan will carry Arizona in heart, only returning as a visitor, now and then-just as I do to Massachusetts and Maine.

Home Base for the Holiday

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December 25, 2025, Plano- Hana and her parents came through the door at 1:35 p.m., after a long and careful discharge process. She was fast asleep, and stayed that way until it was time for her 3 p.m. feeding (Every three hours is the newborn’s lot). I had pretty much tended to the business of the house for three days, to the relief of exhausted Mom and Dad. They worked out the home routine, while I prepared dinner. Hana slept on and showed signs of dreaming. I wonder what a newborn’s dreams are like.

Although we do not celebrate Christmas, with gifts and such, the Divine saw fit to give us the sweetest gift of all, a young person who already shows glimmerings of personality and tells us when she wants to eat and when she has had enough. I would wager nearly every baby tries to show who s(he) is, and those who pay attention are the best friends a child could ever want. Our little girl simply stops nursing when she is full-smart idea.

To me, the celebration of Christ’s Message at this cusp of Solstice is a celebration of hope, as the Northern Hemisphere slowly regains its light. Nowhere should people be more hopeful than in a new family, settling into a new house, with a new configuration. Nowhere is the well of love greater, than in this home on a cul-de-sac, in a working class neighbourhood in a thriving suburb of Dallas.

Tomorrow I head back to Prescott, finish up clearing out my old apartment and do whatever I need to do to dispose of furniture that no one seems to want back there. Today, though, was Home Base for the holiday.

Best Laid Plans

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December 23,2025, Plano- My plan was to stay the morning at the house, then head over to the hospital. That evaporated in ten seconds, when the workman uttered a simple phrase: “This’ll be an all day job.” “This” was the reason I was staying here-preparation for replacement of the home’s insulation. That means removing all old insulation, which, I noticed takes eight hours. I will say that I, being the resident who house sat, had the better deal, compared to the workman who spent his day in the attic. I turned off the heat, but at 73F outside, he has to get some enjoyment out of this line of work, to endure eight hours (minus a 20-minute lunch break) in a cramped space.

I was also considering heading to the hospital tomorrow morning-until the same guy mentioned he would infuse the house with new insulation, bright and early. Well, it may be warm outside now, but winter is sure to come and we don’t want to put the basic necessities off, just for the holiday. Hana, for one, does not seem to like being cold. She expresses her sentiments quite well, when her swaddle is being changed.Once she’s clad again, all is well.

I managed to get some constructive work done today: Filling three yard bags with leaves, unpacking all the boxes from last weekend’s jaunt and setting up my clothes closet, then running necessaries out to the hospital, after the workers left for the day. Sometimes, the best laid plans give way to even better things. I ended the day by rocking Hana for about fifteen minutes, and she was content.

The Great Platinum Circle

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December 20, 2025, Clarendon, TX- I spent last night at the marvelous SouthWest Motel, in Grants, NM and am this evening at the equally lovely Western Skies Motel, in this northern anchor of the Northwest Passage. In both places, the reception has been warm and I sense little way stations are already being established, as they were in southern California, western Nevada and across the U.S. and Canada, over the past fourteen years.

I mused, whilst driving, about the awesome ambiance that encompasses the entirety of Arizona and New Mexico, as well as significant parts of California, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Texas and a fair swath of northern Mexico. The commonality of these areas as that they lie within a Platinum Circle, of great natural majesty-the interplay of desert, mountains (Sky Islands, as well as the Rocky, Wasatch and Sierra Nevada ranges).

I have been greatly blessed to have spent so much of my adult life within this Circle and to have enjoyed so many of its wonders. So many visits: To the Grand Canyon, both North and South, as well as to the bottom of the Canyon, at Boat Beach and Supai; to the summit of Mount Humphreys, Arizona’s highest peak and up so many of the state’s other mountains- Camelback, Piestewa Peak, Mount Baldy, Harquehala Peak, Kendrick Peak, A1 Mountain, Mount Elden, Mount Union, Mingus, and Granite Mountain; to have been welcomed at Hopi, Navajo(Dineh) and Zuni ceremonies; to have floated out into Baia Cholla and made it back safely, to the raucous laughter, and inward relief, of onlooking Mexican fishermen; to have enjoyed so much heritage, mixed with natural beauty: Mesa Verde, Wupatki, Joshua Tree, Valley of Fire, Carlsbad Caverns, Aztec Ruins, Chimney Rock (both of them), virtually all of Sedona, Organ Pipe Cactus, Palo Duro Canyon, Black Canyon of the Gunnison (CO), Black Canyon National Recreation Trail (AZ), Santa Fe, Taos, San Diego Old Town, Tucson Old Pueblo, Pioche (NV), Ruby Mountains, Lake Lahontan, Great Salt Lake, Bryce Canyon, Arches, Capitol Reef, Natural Bridges, Lake Tahoe, Mono Lake, the beaches from San Diego to Santa Barbara. I have only scratched the surface with this list. There are easily two dozen others.

Prescott, though, has been amazing, both as a jumping-off place for so much, but also as a comfortable, welcoming Home Base. I have left there twice and returned, this last time for fourteen beautiful years. I recovered my equilibrium there, and because of that, feel confident in this next, unfolding chapter of my life.

As the Prairie becomes my new Home Base, let it be a Circle in its own right. I can already see that there is much to admire here-as there is in the Southwest-and in the Northeast, my original Home Base.

A New Home Base

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December 21, 2025, Plano- There was lighter traffic than usual in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Sunday could be a heavy shopping day, a few days before Christmas. Perhaps the presidential proclamation that extends the holiday from one mid-week day to a five day affair may have something to do with this, but I have my doubts,

In any case, the drive from Clarendon, on the south end of the Texas Panhandle, to this bustling corporate mecca, on the east side of the Metroplex. was as smooth as silk. I was fortified by a simple, but hearty breakfast at Clarendon Outpost, later supplemented by a Smores Latte at Valley Pecans, my favourite stop along the way, in Chillicothe. The Northwest Passage has other delights, which I’m sure will draw me in, on the next and final phase of this transition from Desert Southwest to Great Plains.

The house felt homey, despite the organization that we will tackle in stages. Today, after Sportage was unloaded, boxes were powered upstairs to my new rooms and leaves were raked and (largely) bagged, we enjoyed Korean food and took up a few remaining tasks, before tomorrow’s big event. I will stay behind, to greet and oversee another contractor, while parents and child begin their first day together.

Thus will begin my new life as a grandparent, as one friend recently quoted his mentor, “coaching from the sidelines”, while leaving the heavy lifting of parenthood to someone I knew as a 6.2 pound newborn, now a 6’1″ powerhouse, who is more than capable of the teamwork that will see a little girl to womanhood.

I will spend this week getting to know a tiny person, a true bundle of joy, before going back to Prescott to tie up affairs as well as any fourteen years of life can be tied up. Then will commence my life in a new Home Base.

The First Steps Onward

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December 19, 2025, Grants, NM- The forlorn-looking man, head down on the high top table, seemed the way I had felt, just before enjoying a hearty meal at the Iron Skillet branch, in nearby Milan. I was somewhat refreshed by the burger, salad and coffee and Linda was a bustling, attentive young server, seemingly new to the job, but very pleasant. Poor Julio was just tired and slept on, unmolested by the truckers who were coming and going.

The day, for me, was comprised of finishing the clean-out of the bathroom cabinets, file cabinet, dresser and tall kitchen cabinet. A bit remains to be done, after Christmas, but by then, I will have a moving truck, one way or the other, the furniture will be carted away to DAV and a cleaning crew will make the old apartment presentable. That is the plan for December 29-30. For today, I packed about 40 % of what I own into the Sportage and headed out, after dealing with a large shred pile and giving more items to DAV. There was also a farewell meal at Zeke’s, bringing to a close a fourteen-year set of weekly breakfasts and lunches.

The drive east had a brief moment of interruption, when an off-duty policeman pointed out that something was dragging in front of Sportage. I checked it out and found the molding under the hood had come loose. After re-clipping it, I had no further problems. The drive from Prescott to this former mining town, east of Gallup, was then uneventful. Now I am at SouthWest Motel, the Delta Motel of New Mexico, replete with music-themed rooms. I am in the Fleetwood Mac Room. There is an LP of their greatest hits and a turntable. Out of respect to the older gentleman next door, (In his late 80s), I will pass on cranking the tunes.

Tomorrow will bring me back to Texas and by Sunday afternoon, I should be at Home Base Plano.

Falling Into Place

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December 18,2025- It took all of ten minutes to get a thrift store dispatcher to schedule the pick-up of most of my furniture for the last week of the year. It took five minutes to schedule a cleaning crew for the same day. Drawers and cabinets were cleared and wiped clean. A lot more stuff went to the Disabled American Veterans thrift store. There is about three hours’ worth of work left, for tomorrow morning.

I changed my address with the Post Office, effective December 30 and said farewell to The Arizona Republic, after subscribing since March, 1992. (I had subscribed from June, 1980-August, 1986, but then Penny and I moved to South Korea for 5.5 years.) The Red Cross was informed of my new address, as was National Geographic Magazine. Other notifications will go out, in the next few weeks.

Visits with friends punctuated the day. I made one last visit to the Farmers Market office and left some items in the care of one of my first co-workers. Dinner with a colleague from the Soup Kitchen capped a very fine day, with talk of the state of the teaching profession-and his concerns about the shallowness of online dating. Yet the ninety minutes spent with someone who helped turn my life around, after I was wallowing in the doldrums in the early 2010s, was easily the high point of the day. M is a model of proactivity and sustained self-reliance. She has achieved, singly and alone, the transformation of a neglected property into an organized and comfortable residence-something that I saw eluding her for most of our 12-year friendship. I can say she is one of those I will miss the most in this community of bright friend stars.

Now, I will rest and prepare for finishing my downsizing and getting underway on the first stage of the move to Plano. It is all falling into place.

Not Overlooked

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December 16, 2025- The tall, soft-spoken man had become used to being overlooked. This morning, though, he was tired of it. When asked to wait for our Blood Donation center to finish being set up, he obligingly sat down. Then, things happened in rapid succession: The Center opened, ten people came through the door and lined up to be admitted, while he stayed seated. Once the line had been processed, the man was called over. He was livid.

He got an apology and was processed, then, still grousing about unfair treatment, he went to the donor interview seating area. One of those who had preceded him in line struck up a conversation, heard him out and offered to let him go ahead. That took the wind out of his angry sails and he calmed down. After a satisfying donation, he told the registration volunteers that they were not at fault, and wished everyone a Merry Christmas.

Many people in our society, and in large communities across the globe, feel overlooked, anonymous. Many indeed are. The human brain can only process just so much, and can only pay attention to just so many, before encountering someone who just doesn’t register, whose needs don’t compute. The brain is part of a physical system. It is finite, although it is also far more capable of achievement than most of us allow.

A lot of anonymity in society is due to spiritual dissonance. We are all primarily spiritual beings, living for a time in a physical frame. Those who don’t recognize their spirituality are far more likely to both feel overlooked and to compartmentalize their relationships with others. Isolation is a dangerous thing, both for the person experiencing it, and for those at whom the isolate, eventually, lashes out. Those who feel overlooked will eventually, invariably, find each other, and form groups with skewed visions of reality. Terrorism then ensues, either by someone acting alone or by the group.

The ISIS attack on American Army Reservists in Syria, over the weekend; the mass murder in Sydney; the murders of a conservative activist and an Uzbeki student, in Providence; and even the killings of Rob and Michele Reiner, all follow the pattern: One or more isolated people, to some extent or another exacerbated by mental illness, and in many cases separated from their true spirit (even if they claim to be acting on behalf of a Faith), and feeling misunderstood, lash out in a horrifying manner. They misunderstand their own nature, and taking the seeming indifference of others-who are themselves a bit cut off from their spirituality-as proof that they are owed retribution, lash out in a horrifying manner.

Each individual needs to know that s(he) is responsible for own spiritual education. Parents and adults close to a child can help him or her in that regard. Adults can help one another, but in the end, we each need to take agency for our spiritual existence.

Several of us heard the gentleman’s cry for recognition, this morning, and turned around what could have been an ugly situation. This can be done anywhere, if we recognize the Source of our lives and strive accordingly.

All In

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December 15, 2025- There is only one constant, when transitioning from a long-time residence to taking over someone else’s long-time residence. It helps to have money set aside. I have found it will be in my best interests to invest in a U-Pod, which will mean two stages of the move, owing to Hana’s birth and the U-Pod’s schedule being on two separate wavelengths. I am only grateful that I can manage to do justice to both.

I divested myself of about half my wardrobe, saying goodbye to things that I have kept, but not worn and things that no longer fit. I have done the same to my book collection. Those volumes that I am unlikely to ever read, or that I have read and think will be enjoyed by others, have been passed on. Finally, the furniture: I have scant need for anything that is in this apartment, save a folding card table, once I am in Plano. Most will go to one thrift store or another. One piece is likely to be bought by someone in town.

Today was my last visit to the Coffee Klatsch, and last time volunteering at the Soup Kitchen. Both groups are filled with fond memories and people who will miss me as much as I do them. Life will go on, though, and a friend has already stepped up to take my place on the serving line. He will be an excellent fit for that operation, and made a good impression this evening.

So, the wall art and the small knick-knack keepsakes will be covered in bubble wrap. The family archives will be prepared for transport, some at the end of the week and the rest in the middle of next week. Our darling will appear in between it all. I am all in for the whole process.