Redemption

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March 2, 2024- I watched the film, Dune, Part 2, this evening. The plot is basically a “He who has the gold, rules” type of tale. Without giving away anything else, it is also a tale of several people who have various chances to choose redemption or condemnation. Each of us must make that choice, sometimes on a daily basis.

Three different types of people caught my attention today. The first, indicative of most people in my life circle, is a solid friend, who was just glad to see me, after two weeks. The second, drawn to me on occasion, is a self-absorbed soul, who sees self as a perpetual victim. (I have no resources to bail out a hand that is always outstretched, but that’s a whole other matter.) The third is an opportunist, who waited until I was off tending to a task, and grabbed a drink that I’d purchased and set down. Thankfully, this one is a fleeting presence in my life, and I know what not to do next time.

I have been the first two types, at one point or another in my seven decades and two years on this plane. I was effectively dissuaded, by my father, from being the third type, more than once. I stopped being the second type, mainly because it was isolating and self-defeating, as the present self-defeating people are finding out. It has been, and is, redemptive to be the first type. Those who love freely and pull their own weight tend to be happy, and self-fulfilled. We are not smug, and when difficulty strikes, we work through it. Those who have known me for a long time, or at least since the 2000s, know that the life I lead now has not always been the case.

I choose a path that is redemptive, not because other people dear to me demand it, but because it just feels better. The approval of family and friends is a bonus.

The Lion Roars Elsewhere

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March 1, 2024- The sweet older lady carried her box filled with Bell jars out of the small health food convenience market, as I held the door. A few minutes later, as I approached the register with my small purchase, she burst back through the door, still holding her box of jars. As I hung back from the register, the lady told the cashier about her morning. She had encountered a couple, in her gated community, who were going about the neighbourhood, visiting shut-ins and offering Holy Communion wafers to them. When she encountered the couple again, at a local fast food restaurant, she bought them lunch. That was a story worth waiting for!

The old saw states: “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” Lamb-like weather is here for a few days, whilst in the Panhandle region of north Texas and northwest Oklahoma, a furious spate of wildfires, tempered briefly by a wimpy snow squall, has sundered about five communities, leaving wreckage reminiscent of Paradise, CA and Lahaina, HI in their wake. Whether we look at this still extant destruction and blame climate change or over-development- or a mix of the two, the scenes are heartbreaking. No amount of blame can restore what has been lost. Only resolve, and united action, can bring about recovery.

The same is true, for entirely different reasons, as a lion of a different sort roars in Gaza. No matter one’s politics, or religious persuasion, the slaughter of innocents arising from the wanton disregard, by two armies, for human life cannot pass without condemnation. Both armies should stand down-and let both Jewish and Arab people find a common path to resilience. At this point, it doesn’t matter who started it. No community on Earth deserves to be destroyed by the rapacity of others.

This evening, I made my way down to Raven Cafe, for another great performance by local favourites, Scandalous Hands. There was no room to sit, initially, yet as luck would have it, a couple vacated their table, just as I was getting a cup of coffee from the self-service urn. I moved towards the table and spotted another couple who seemed to want to sit. We agreed to share the table, and it turned out they were first time visitors to Prescott. I would have gladly shared the table, anyway, but first impressions matter. They greatly enjoyed Scandalous’ music, and even got up to dance a few times. I gave them a few pointers for activities and music venues, over the next two days they are here, and some other information about the Southwest, as this is their first time in the region.

March is off to a benign start here, though it would only take an errant spark and a gust of wind, to turn the tables. My prayers and positive thoughts, for Texas, Oklahoma, Gaza and so many other places which don’t have the calmness, the serenity or even the festive mood that Prescott enjoys, as March begins.

Placeless

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February 27, 2024- I wondered again, this morning, what would be, if everyone I love and everything that matters to me, were to completely change-maybe even disappear. Maybe I would be the one disappearing. Then, what?

It’s happened, to a limited extent, before. Nearly thirteen years ago, my wife of twenty-nine years passed to the next life. Almost thirty years ago, my youngest brother winged his flight, and in early summer, thirty-eight years ago, my father entered Paradise. The changes these brought were jarring, but not seismic. They did, however, prepare me for what may come, possibly in waves.

The changes, though, have not been altogether negative. With the departed souls taking their place as spirits, looking out for those they love, here in the physical realm, some great things have come our way. Our childhood home was sold, that Mother could live a simpler and more carefree life. It was thrust into being a mansion, of sorts. Each of us has been able to achieve at least a few of our dreams. Each of us is also looking to take better care of ourselves, physically and spiritually.

Were I to lose everyone and everything, tomorrow (not likely to happen, BTW), there would be other people and other things-friends, a place to lay my head and a means to live, that would take their places. That is the lesson I draw from all that has gone on, these past thirteen years, certainly, and more recently, with a few setbacks, most of which have proven temporary.

In a vast world, and an even greater Universe, we are never really placeless.

The Red Cross, Re-imagined

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February 26, 2024- After Hurricane Harvey, the Red Cross came under fire, from certain right-wing elements, for what was see as a lackluster response to the storm, in parts of coastal Texas. The criticism stung, certainly, especially for those of us who have done our level best, on the front lines of more than one widespread disaster. Leadership went back to the drawing board, nonetheless, and sifted through the accusations leveled at the organization. The focus was on doing better-much better. One thing was clear, though: The thinly-veiled expectation, that charitable organizations should just fold up their tents and let people struggle on their own, was not going to carry the day.

Those who had been operating as islands unto themselves listened with rapt attention, as a vision of the American Red Cross expanding its partnerships with local communities, local and state governments, faith communities and above all, other charitable organizations, was laid out, at a regional planning conference, this morning and afternoon. The various focus branches of the Red Cross will now be working more in concert with one another, something that those who help in several capacities have wanted to see for quite some time.

It’s long been known that organizations of any kind operate more efficiently when the various entities within talk to one another-and, more importantly, listen to each other’s ideas, regard the other’s problems as their own and develop an unshakable bond. Further, proactivity is vital to any person or organization that claims to offer solutions to the multiple problems arising, often in areas that have historically not seen much difficulty. Reactivity, playing whack-a-mole, has lost its efficacy; so, too, has denial.

The collective Red Cross mindset will focus on community mobilization; a strength-based, rather than need-based, approach; establishing itself in a community as a long-term presence, not “in and out”. Presence is seen as the mission. Transaction will be directed towards transformation. Training will be simplified, looking towards readiness and capacity-building, especially in the face of an increase in the number of disasters that leave billions of dollars in damages. The program will include language diversity, more volunteer town halls, regional stand-ups, bi-annual community briefings, and staff retreats. Public service announcements and billboarding will be more widespread, and no group will be left out of the loop.

These points appeal to me, as a member of the Baha’i Faith, because of that organization’s focus on inclusivity, proactivity and a responsibly progressive approach to facing social and environmental ills. I look forward to being an agent for bringing the two organizations, and many others, together, as a testament to the notion: “The true leader serves. Serves people”- Robert Habecker, “Servant Leadership”. The true servant works to unite.

The Age of Earth

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February 24, 2024- Four men in a vehicle, traveling for three hours and thirty minutes each way, can spend that time in a variety of conversational styles, from silence or one-word-dialogues (No thank you, to either of those) to elevated discourse. It’s best if the latter steers clear of politics, and today’s conversation did just that-focusing on the geological features through which we were passing.

Our planet came together, as an entity, 4.543 billion years ago. This is also called the accretion of Earth. The first known continent was Vaalbara, which formed about 3.6 billion years ago. Africa, the oldest modern continent, came into being 300 million years ago, followed, 100 million years later, by North America. The other extant continents’ formative dates were: South America, 225 million years ago; Asia, 66 MYA; Antarctica, 34 MYA; Australia, 10 MYA and Europe, 5 MYA.

This information, and the views that we enjoyed, traveling between Prescott and Mohave Valley, this morning and afternoon, were fodder for observations about the varied topography and geology. One may enjoy Ponderosa pine forests, that seem to go on forever, chaparral stands, Joshua trees, relatively barren desert, and rock formations from 1.84 million years ago-which are known as Vishnu Schist-this last, being close to the Colorado River, and the oldest layers of rock seen at the Grand Canyon.

As it happened, it was the Cerbat Mountains, a rugged, but rather low-lying range, in and around Kingman, which drew the greatest interest from the three men with whom I was riding, to and from the smoke alarm installations. Rocks have, over the past few decades, have achieved their due, both as scenic features and as backdrops for more extensive recreational activities. The Cerbats are mini-hoodoos, in spots, and have their share of fans, including the residents of Chloride, about twenty miles north of Kingman. I visited that old mining town a couple of times, most recently on the way back from a Carson City jaunt, in the summer of 2021.

The rest of the drive provided reminiscences of drives along a segment of Old Route 66, from Kingman to Peach Springs, and on to Seligman. The small villages, Grand Canyon Caverns and the various little restaurants and gas station coffee shops all have their adherents. My personal favourite is West Side Lilo’s, in Seligman, followed by Hualapai Lodge, in Peach Springs and Seligman Trading Post.

It is the scenery, though, that keeps me grateful for the chance to drive out to places like Mohave Valley (where we worked with the local Fire Department, installing smoke detectors). There are no boring places-at least not to me, or to those with whom I worked today.

Farewell, and Hail

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February 22,2024- From the dour expressions on a few faces, both in San Diego and back in Prescott, it seems like winter is getting on several people’s nerves. I felt great, though, even as leaving San Diego is never easy. A sweet and affirming conversation with a fellow hosteler got the day off to a good start, and my checkout was methodical-something I’ve only mastered, in the past three years. Once again, nothing was left behind. From Ocean Beach, I headed over to an old favourite: Harbor Breakfast. Friend Maria was not working today, but the fare was still top of the line. I handled a bit of business, as calls came in during this late breakfast. It’s all good.

Before the King Fire, before Yarnell Hill, there was Inaja. The 1956 wildfire in Cleveland National Forest, just south of Julian, CA, resulted in the deaths of 11 firefighters. I made a brief stop at the Memorial Park, as it was time for morning prayers.

Inaja Memorial Park, Santa Ysabel, CA
View towards the Laguna Mountains, from Inja Memorial Park.
Inaja Memorial Park, Santa Ysabel, CA

The stop reminded me of the fragility, and of the endurance, of the forest.

The rest of my drive back to Home Base I was smooth, and though I arrived in the middle of the devotional which prompted the straight homeward route, all ended up well. The focus was on peace, and tranquility starts within. So, winter or summer, cold or hot, it is ever worthwhile to focus one’s energies on keeping a positive outlook, even while dealing with the changes and chances that come our way.

All in all, this weekday break was a reminder of the value of refreshing one’s energy.

A Library Jenga, Nine Lanterns and OB’s Farmers’ Market

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February 21, 2024, San Diego- The stack of books is about 5 feet, 2 inches tall. It is arranged like Jenga blocks, though it won’t fall down if one pulls a book from the middle. This is Big Rainbow House’s library.

A Jenga Library

With a more sunny day in the offing, I headed up to visit a long-time friend in Orange County. In the past, we have frequented one or another beach front restaurant. Today, the focus was on Laguna Niguel, a community about five miles inland from Dana Point. I got to drive the length of Golden Lantern Road. There are nine “lantern” roads, emanating from Dana Point Harbor, that I recall: Violet, Crystal, Blue, Green, Ruby, Amber, Silver, Copper and Golden. The street names were a marketing tool for the newly subdivided community of Dana Point, in the 1920s. Each starts with a coloured lantern atop the western terminus of the street.

Before that little drive, I spotted a pair of harbour seals, lounging on the stern of a small yacht, in Dana Point’s central marina. The female was barking, clamouring for attention-or so it seemed. The male was seemingly dead to the world.

Two on a platform

After a brief stroll around the marina, and an equally short walk at Dana Point’s hilltop overlook, I headed towards Laguna Niguel. A large family of Baha’is once lived in this pleasant. green canyon-laced community. So I felt drawn to have a look at the area. Being a bit early for our lunch appointment, I walked around the community’s regional park. Its centerpiece is Aliso Creek, a shallow rill that is nonetheless running in robust fashion-a bantam rooster of streams, if you will.

Aliso Creek, Laguna Niguel Regional Park (above and below)

Just after I took these shots, I spotted a pair of Mallards, attempting to cross the road. I also spotted a vehicle coming towards them. Gesturing to the driver and pointing to the male duck, either spooked the quacker or he felt the vibrations of the car. The pair dashed back to the side of the road and the car kept on going. The ducks then made their way to Aliso Creek.

The surviving mallards (in center left, Aliso Creek)

Lunch, at Avila’s La Ranchita, one of about five family-owned chains, in southwest Orange County, is a true delight-with every dish prepared on site, from fresh ingredients-no cans or bottles. There is no skimping on the meats and vegetables in the various tacos, quesadillas, tamales, enchildadas or tostadas. Equally important, the chips are baked daily and the salsa is freshly made. Even the iced tea is brewed on site. I am always alert to the difference between fresh and processed. This place is for real-and worth a drive eastward from the beach.

I came back to Ocean Beach, in time for the Wednesday Farmers’ Market. It is slightly larger than ours back in Prescott-but this is San Diego, after all, and the vegetables, fruits, cheeses, juices and various hot foods are all amazing, in variety and quality. I got a few items, and called it a night. One must be prudent, even when on holiday.

The Purple Owl and other Serendipities

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February 19, 2024, San Diego- Today being a national holiday, there were hordes on the road, especially once I got to the Colorado Desert. The sand dunes at Glamis, Anza_Borrego’s approaches-and on up the mountain, at Julian, the streets and parking lots were full. Don’t get me wrong-I think it’s a great thing, that so many people are out and about.

Not much was working last night, and this morning, at Relax Inn, which had been a reliably comfortable place for lodging, in past years. I told the desk clerk that there is a sizable issue with the electrical connection, which could cause more problems than just the light fixtures and refrigerator not working. Time will tell whether the owners tend to the matter.

No matter- I was on the road by 8:30 and headed down through Brawley, stopping for a brief walk along the city’s main street. Not much was open, partly because several businesses are closed on Mondays, and partly because of Presidents’ Day. I was focused, though, on getting up to Julian, which was Penny’s last place of residence, before we married, and has remained a personal favourite. No parking space was available, until I spotted Purple Owl, on the town’s near south side. It turns out to be a comfortable and welcoming vegetarian cafe. I am protein saturated, so going with a savory veggie-filled Puebla crepe was a good thing.

That made the trip down the mountain to San Diego, and Ocean Beach, that much more enjoyable. It’s overcast here, with a promise of rain tomorrow. Nonetheless, OB is its usual funky self. I did resolve the lingering issue of where to put Sportage. An enterprising individual has opened a lot, which is guarded 24/7. It’s reasonable, so there my trusty steed will sit, until I need it on Wednesday and Thursday. I will be somewhat ensconced in Samesun Ocean Beach (the Rainbow House).

The ocean was fairly calm this evening. I present you, as I mentioned to my dearest: A view which could be a black horse at midnight. A closer look reveals the ocean, at ebb tide.

Ocean Beach, at 8 p.m.

Ten Beautiful Things (and People)

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February 18, 2024, Blythe- (Getting around “no internet” is always fun. I am posting this from a location other than my motel-Relax Inn.)

My favourite zoo animal, when I was a child, was the black panther. Stoneham Zoo and Franklin Park, in Boston, always had at least one melanated leopard. As it happens, Heritage Park zoo, in Prescott, has a melanated jaguar. This panther is named Notch. So, Notch ranks #10 on the list of beautiful things and people that come to mind, as I sit here in this desert town, on the Colorado River.

He is also the only one for whom I will present a photograph, in this post. The other nine have been posted previously, at one point or another.

#9 is the western sunset, which is almost given a run for its money, by the sunsets of the Midwest.

#8 is the Aurora Borealis, which I have seen only once-in Flagstaff, circa 1980.

#7 is the voice of Carrie Underwood, when she is fully engaged in a spiritual song.

#6 is the portrayal by Keala Settle, of the Bearded Woman, in “The Greatest Showman” (2017).

#5 is the snowscape, after a storm, on the South Rim of Grand Canyon.

#4 is a mother black bear, nestling her newborn cub-and viewed from a safe distance.

#3 is the look on the face of a little girl, when her family is relocated from a flimsy shack, to a tiny house, on the outskirts of Sacramento.

#2 is the smile on the face of a grizzled and cynical Right Wing political activist, when he is given a packet of Earth Breeze laundry sheets, by someone he knows to be a social justice activist, from the other side of the political spectrum.

#1 is the smile on the face of a very dear friend, when those she trusts include her in activities.

Everyone has their own ideas of what, or who, is beautiful. That is what keeps this world glued together.

Alarm Bells

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February 16, 2024- The three of us went in the front door,at the main Fire Station, in the small, sprawling community of Mohave Valley, east of Needles. We were there as part of the “Sound the Alarm” program, by which the Red Cross, acting in concert with local Fire Departments, first leaves flyers for an upcoming smoke detector installation, in a given neighbourhood, then returns, 1-8 days later, to install the detectors, where requested.

The event was scheduled after two recent house fires in the area. The first claimed the lives of a pregnant woman and her baby,as well as her in-laws. The second, in nearby Bullhead City, claimed the lives of five children. I walked by the ashes of the first house, this afternoon. Workers were clearing the debris, with the aid of a bulldozer. The eerie silence resonated, broken only by the barking of ubiquitous guard dogs, who seemed to be in every yard in the five-block area. I can only imagine the heartbreak of the surviving son, husband and father, going on alone.

Looking for the Chief and his Captain, we were informed that it was lunch time. So, we ourselves went off to Bonanza Cafe, where we found good quality diner fare, served with a smile. The smiles broadened, when we told the server why we were in town. A patron named Kevin, sitting nearby,paid for our lunch as he and his wife left the restaurant. . People tend to like those who take interest in their community.

Once back at the Station, we planned out our canvass of the five-block neighbourhood, a mix of new homes and mobile units. We focused on the mobiles, as building codes have mandated hard-wired smoke detectors, over the past ten years, or so. The task was made very light, actually, as we were joined in the canvass by an engine and an ambulance, which were thankfully not called away during the activity.

Thus did my brief “hiatus” from Red Cross volunteer service come to an end. It turned out that this interlude was brought on by an AI glitch, not by the fit of pique that I had noticed, at our last meeting. Microsoft marches to its own drummer, and doesn’t much care about who is getting along with whom. We three got along just fine today, and the software that interferes with our collaboration will be fixed soon.

After, the canvass, we were taken on a tour of the Fire Station, by Captain Tim. He explained that much of the new equipment we saw had been purchased with grant money. The Wildland Firefighting equipment came in handy, earlier this winter, when a blaze broke out in the rough country along the Colorado River. The hills above the nearby tourist town of Oatman are also constantly at risk. A Rehabilitation Vehicle is also on site, courtesy of a grant. This unit serves as a place for firefighters, particularly Wildland staff, to rest in shade, rehydrate and get snacks or solid food, during the exercise.

During his remarks, I thought of the southern Arizona community of Bisbee, which had experienced a major fire, yesterday, in its historic downtown. Bisbee’s water lines are 100 years old, which doesn’t help when an event like that happens. Two buildings were damaged, and the rest of Old Bisbee needs urgent attention, to ensure that the community doesn’t become another Lahaina. Captain Tim spoke of Maui, in stressing the importance of grants for fire fighting, in stressed communities. He also noted that networking, across several communities, has been a hallmark of firefighting, even before the concept became in vogue for society at large.

With all that in mind, we visited two families, one in Bullhead City and one in Kingman, so that our team lead could process their claims from recent house fires. The first was having a yard sale, getting rid of as much excess as possible. The second was at his extended family’s home, three blocks from the fire scene. In each case, Red Cross helps with small cash allowances for short term accommodations, meals and replacement of some personal items, such as clothing, while the victim(s) await insurance settlements.

It was a fourteen-hour day, from the time we left the Red Cross office, here in Prescott, until I was finally dropped off at Home Base I. No matter-it was a fine resumption of the service that gives me affirmation. The day had started with a message from my Beloved, and ended in the knowledge that there is far more love than hate or indifference, in communities large and small.