A Dozen Years

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March 5, 2023- Last night, an extended family member took her last breath and left behind many years of suffering. Hers was a voice of truth, at times hard to hear-but a voice that needed to be heard, nonetheless. Her passing was a bookend to Penny’s transition, twelve years ago today.

I’ve taken stock, a fair number of times since, of my “solo” journey-that hasn’t actually been taken alone. It’s worth looking back, though, every so often. Since bidding her adieu, I have sold a house, on my in-law’s behalf, settled into a solid one-bedroom apartment, gone through five cars, seen the marriage of our son to a strong, confident and beautiful woman, visited forty-eight states (only Montana and North Dakota remain unvisited) and six countries, completed two long local hiking trails (albeit in sections) and volunteered with five organizations, besides my Faith Community.

Most important, though, are the friendships made-both long-lasting and fleeting. Some have also gone on to the next level of existence. A couple have been lost, through miscommunication and the interference of those who saw me as some sort of threat. A few others have turned out to be nefarious, and had to be cast aside. Most, though, will be in my circle until death separates us, albeit temporarily. They will always be in my heart.

There is no real Master Plan to any of this-three of the cars were wrecked by the actions of other people and one just wore out; the house was sold because of a double-taxation scheme, in another state; the travel is a combination of who I am as a person and urges to see people who live far from here. The hikes are also a reflection of who I am, besides being a good way to help with one of my current focuses-weight reduction.

Yet, in another sense, I do follow a Master Plan-one which all of us follow, either wittingly or unwittingly: The Major Plan of the Creator. I am in awe of all that has happened in my life, particularly over the past forty years, and especially over the past twelve. Much, I know, remains to be rolled out, and I look forward to it all, the easy and the hard alike.

Inner and Outer Lights

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March 4, 2023- I found my friend, Pam, right inside the gate to M3F, by the medium-sized stage’s sound crew. She was alternating between rolling her hoops and ecstatic dancing-as usual, when at a live music festival, which she has largely made her life these days.

McDowell Mountain Music Festival is not held anywhere near the McDowell Mountains, anymore. It has found a home, the first weekend of March, at Margaret Hance Park, in downtown Phoenix. Performance Art, such as Pam offers, is as much a part of these music festivals as the bands themselves. I attend M3F, so long as life does not take me elsewhere, because its revenues are donated to charity. The city offers the space, gratis, and volunteers provide security (backed by the Phoenix Police Department) and clean-up. So, my ticket purchase is money I consider well-spent.

The day started with my usual Saturday morning routine: Worldwide Celebration of Life (online) and a visit to Farmer’s Market. Then, there was a monthly meeting of Post 6, American Legion, which strayed far longer than I had hoped it would-as a few people were exercised and long-winded, about a certain issue (which always gets some people exercised and indignant, to the point where they are not listening to one another).

I made it down to M3F, about two hours after I had said I’d get there, but no matter. Pam was having a great time; there were many of her other friends, who live in the Phoenix area, already there and various children, teens and young adults were borrowing her hoops for their own enjoyment. It was quite a mini-concert, all its own.

We went, back and forth, between the three stages-with me toting my blanket and whatever she could not carry of her own sizable load. Since I am not a hooper, I got in some dancing, at times vigourous, as a means to cardiopulmonary exercise. It was a joy just to tap into her at times manic energy and keep up my physical coordination-which has only come about in adulthood. (I was the klutz of klutzes, until about my 21st year-and even afterward, sports like volleyball eluded me.)

Given my current weight reduction plan, finding a solid meal that fits that plan took a bit of discernment, in the Food Court-a collection of food trucks. I was saved by the bowl! A paper bowl of BBQ Sundae-pulled pork, baked beans and cole slaw, took care of the dinner matter.

As the evening progressed, we found that shy young children were captivated by Pam’s antics and energy, and delighted in coming forward to hoop dance with her. Their parents were equally pleased to see the kids having a good time, as the music itself often addressed adult themes, using lyrics and banter more suitable for a bar or club, to the extent it was suitable at all.

All in all, though, M3F is a good affair. I don’t go to many music festivals, but this one is a keeper.

Shifting and Turning

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March 2, 2023- Jennifer Lawrence looked me over, finding only a small spot of concern, on my face, and a few freezable spots on my scalp and right temple. My new Physician’s Assistant for dermatology very closely resembles the actress, and is pleasant but businesslike. She was not happy about having her work delayed by the aftermath of last night’s storm. It can’t be easy, being a thorough medical professional and having to cram several clients together. I am grateful that she got me in, this afternoon.

Jupiter and Venus are converging. The two have made a fine pair, in the western night sky, last night (not visible) and tonight (very striking). The event has no outward astrological significance, but it is pleasing to see.

Venus (top) and Jupiter (bottom) in the western night sky.
Venus and Jupiter, shifting focus

Between the skin scan and the sky scan, my Red Cross group came to a meeting of the minds, with regard to scheduling and filling disaster response slots. It turns out, I am one of the few who are presently qualified to supervise a shelter, in this region. Thus, there is hair-pulling, when I happen to be out of town. The solution, in such a case, is to partner with other agencies, which are also committed to disaster response. They can provide a supervisor, in a pinch.

The energy, at least this month, is shifting a bit, though. I will have two brief journeys, that will not interfere with any activities here. The second and third quarters of the year are also up in the air, with the route as far as Sacramento and western Nevada the only set pieces, at the end of April. The Northwest, Anchorage to Fairbanks OR a return to the Southeast of Alaska, and Vancouver Island are still possibilities for the first part of May. June and July will find me mostly helping manage camps, at a property near Flagstaff-so long as the Wildfire Season is not intense.

Everything is just more fluid, and localized, now-and that’s okay. I will be doing things as they feel right, even more than in previous years.

Comes The Lion

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March 1, 2023- The morning began, benignly, with a gentle snowfall throughout the day. The flurries were brief and probably would not have caused problems for students headed home. Then came 4 p.m., and the skies really opened up. It’s still coming down and the expectation is that the snow will continue, until early tomorrow morning. At least the wind is not fierce.

The old adage has not really borne itself out, these past few years. Nevertheless, this year, the lion is bringing in March-and not only here in the Southwest. Norman, OK, is near Moore, where I was headed for tornado shelter work, in May, 2013-before I got a call to hurry back to Prescott, for fire shelter duty. Norman had a horrific twister, two days ago and is in bad shape. A couple of friends live there, and I am waiting to see how things are for them. Then, there is the Northeast, with NYC and western New England getting the first snow of the season. My niece posted a fun set of photos of her family enjoying riding around their farm.

As I look out my picture window, the scene is lovely and serene. Few, if any, people are driving this evening. I have a medical appointment, tomorrow morning, so that should prove interesting. I wonder if my PA will even be able to get to the facility. Prescott does a good job of clearing the main roads, though, so by the time I need to go over there, things will be “slow but steady”. I also may be called to man a relief station, but that is up in the air, as of tonight.

The rest of this tale is that the NWS is not forecasting any more snow here, this season. In my experience, the time between the Ides of March and Equinox usually gives the lie to such prognostications. Stay tuned.

Trade-offs

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February 28, 2023- “There are no solutions, only trade-offs.”- Thomas Sowell

One of the more provocative conservatives in our midst, Dr. Sowell has made a good many outrageous statements about “the passing scene”, but he is correct about a great generality of this life: Everything has a cost, as well as a benefit. The value of things great and small lies in the balance between the two.

My thoughts:

Further, all choices we make have immediate and long terms costs and benefits. Those things which cost us, with fleeting benefits, may be viewed as expenses. Those which have long-term benefits may be cast as investments. For example, a meal in a restaurant has mostly fleeting benefits, unless it also includes the generating or enhancement of a friendship or business deal. The deposit of funds towards the education of one’s child or grandchild should, one hopes, result in both the offspring’s well-being and prosperity, and benefits to society, stemming from the person’s expertise.

The same observations may be made, with regard to social movements. Fascism and the Divine Right of Kings benefit elitist claques, and oligarchies, whilst leaving out the vast majority of a country’s citizens, aside from cosmetic and superfluous economic and social trinkets-including insipid entertainment media. Democracies, which INCLUDE republics, are far messier, but have the potential to benefit all citizens, long-term. Everyone has to GIVE, in the form of taxes, or exercising the vote, or allowing those whom one might not like the same rights as one has. Of course, opposed to both of the aforementioned systems is anarchy, chaos, which adheres to no overt rules, save vengeance, self-aggrandizement and short-term personal satisfaction.

I have seen all three, in this short span of seventy-two years, and can only see the most beneficial trade-offs coming from the patience, perseverance and resolve that come from being an active participant in a democracy-and allowing everyone else the same, including-especially, those whose viewpoints differ from my own.

Yes, everything is a trade-off. This, friends, is why we are given free will, combined with intellect and a moral compass, that we may know what to keep and what to give away.

The Lingering Grind

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February 27, 2023- And still they must toil, without consideration for health, education or even safety. They, in this case, are people between the ages of 11-16, minor children under the law, compelled to work by such companies as Kellogg and Hearthside Food Solutions (the purveyors of Nature Valley Granola), Ben and Jerry’s, Ford and General Motors and Fruit of the Loom. They are in such situations because they came across the border, into the U.S., had nothing and fell into the waiting arms of those who regularly take advantage of the dispossessed. These entities have the tacit blessing of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, which cries being overloaded with the cases of undocumented minors. Here is a full report on the matter: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/25/us/unaccompanied-migrant-child-workers-exploitation.html?unlocked_article_code=SVuPZ_k5mnCmX9ylJCWxHoVqkzNZRpyijLQA8GF3ZEUxLKxoBLvKy91J_-sXauaSQ3wRSn_0udjRAz0V4cXBuJg-5uXELguP1jgR-Y-Y7dusQh6qBwc1uWvPCNFCYb-v6Bwf7HwKNoeHrNAM8yL0iIBicQxenjWAwEjzZ8lOqLWes-fNe2DJvyRl_tmzyxSgLDbpfxKQCHoRYJpOQG7cfSXFBXc1CLghHZmQbg2q7IZHutwH9qmUvZ5wwsB8jL3T9SnbM7RbChKU6NlzzLWkXFWCb_eOa5HWp_rpsCKWtKJGgGMJEWRaab1a1MTppSRDs3VBzWEzKOxUak9P2R_NRlOMQMNaokWNmwGhD9OaNljVlpiuYw&smid=url-share&utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

Upton Sinclair and Frank Norris, among others, exposed similar outrages in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. Then, those who were subjected to exploitation were the children of legal immigrants and rural Americans coming into the cities to work. Their plight, and the muckraking journalists, led to President Theodore Roosevelt crusading for, and obtaining, Child Labor Laws. States followed suit, and by the 1950s, systems of work permits and limits on evening hours were in place, with respect to the employment of people under the age of 18. Sixteen-year-olds can work in most non-farm capacities, in most states, for a maximum of 36 hours a week.

The urge to take advantage of youthful, expedient labour, however, has never gone away in some circles. The swell of immigrants, both legal and undocumented, has given those seeking to cut the cost of employment the perfect opportunity to revive sweat shop and near sweat shop conditions-not only in places like Thailand, Bangladesh, and many parts of Africa and South America, but all over the United States-as mentioned above.

The solutions are multi-faceted: Increasing attention to unsavory working conditions and evidence of exploitation of children and youth; discernment on the part of consumers buying everything from auto parts to ice cream to “health foods”; stiffer penalties for national and multinational companies that are found to be actively involved in such exploitation-and ongoing efforts to aid in the generation of economic opportunities in the undocumented immigrants’ countries of origin. Companies can upgrade, and enforce, their own codes of ethics and crack down on the more nefarious among their management.

The lingering grind does not deserve the support of the public.

A Day of Change-ups

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February 26, 2023- With 3 inches of snow on the ground, I found it was not a problem to drive to the grocery store and purchase some vegetables and fruit. Then came breakfast at the American Legion Post-a routine on Sunday mornings. Being faithful to my weight reduction program, I saved the pancakes, freezing them for a time when I can nibble at them-along with the cheese and other items that sit in the freezer as well-and will be nibbled at, judiciously, when the time comes.

Normally, a group of us sit at the same table and encourage each other. Today, two of the other five diners showed up-and were already at another table, with other old friends. So, I joined them and the regular table was occupied, in short order, by five gentlemen who had not eaten breakfast there before. When the regulars left, I stayed for a delightful conversation with some other people, who usually sit on the other side of the room.

When I went back to the apartment, and logged onto Zoom, for the devotional which I host, three Sundays each month, I found two of the regular participants also joined-and three who are not usually on the call also logged in. Then, my audio went out, but theirs did not,so they could hear each other-and me, but I was the odd one out. We ended the program prematurely, so that I could go in and find out what Zoom was doing. It turned out that a button had been pushed to mute my audio, when I shared the full contents of my screen. That is something to watch at the next gathering.

The last change-up occurred when I went to the laundromat, and found it locked. What is likely is that the pipes froze, and they just didn’t bother to put up a sign. I will go back on Tuesday and try again.

Changes in routine are good, in that one does not get sclerotic in approaching daily life-as long as the changes do not reflect chaos, which calls for different skill sets.

Speech and Screech

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February 25, 2023- I would not recommend canceling “Dilbert”. I will still look at the comic strip and keep an open mind. Just as I do not recommend refusing to read “The Autobiography of Malcom X”, or “Hillbilly Elegy”, “Paradise” or, for the sake of a cautionary understanding, “Mein Kampf” or “The Communist Manifesto”. I might even pick up “The Art of The Deal”, at some point. The First Amendment trusts the American citizen to become educated enough to hear speech, read the written word and ponder the meaning of what is heard and read, through several lenses, if necessary.

I draw the line at sadistic works or those writings dripping with dark energy, but that is my choice. I don’t want to be dragged down a rabbit hole that bottoms out in a sewer pit. If someone else chooses to do that, and comes away unscathed, that person is far tougher than I. I also choose to be discerning, when someone is screeching at their audience. A person who has endured a lifetime of beatings and gaslighting is entitled to some vitriol. Someone who is merely inconvenienced by the advancement of others is not so much entitled. Both are free to talk, but I may tune out the latter, in short order.

I am keeping this short, and will end here. In conclusion, I have oceans of sympathy for the people of East Palestine, Ohio, who are still not being taken seriously by the President. I have no patience left, however, for those who claim he was not duly elected. The former victims should keep speaking out.

When Separation Is A Fallacy

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February 24, 2023- The writer and artist responsible for “Dilbert”, a comic strip carried by several newspapers in the country, has announced he is no longer interested in contact with Black people. He says that, in his recent experience, Blacks hate him for being White. Not knowing his specific experiences, I can’t speak as to what he should or should not do. Scott Adams goes further, though, encouraging other White people to likewise shun contact with Blacks, even saying that the news commentator Don Lemon, who himself is Black, has reported problematic experiences, when he lived in predominately African-American neighbourhoods. I can’t speak to Mr. Lemon’s experiences either.

For me, though, I have faced no hatred whatsoever, when visiting predominately African-American “hoods”, or mostly Hispanic barrios, for that matter. The opposite has been true. In one of my first walks in the Southeast area of Washington, D.C., I was a bit hesitant, when walking past a family of three, who were watering and weeding their front lawn. The father was pleasant, and told me not to worry; nobody was going to hurt me. A neighbour girl told her wary little brother, a few minutes later, “He’s a good white man”-while knowing nothing specifically about me.

This experience has repeated itself, many times over, in Black neighbourhoods of Boston, New York, Newburgh (NY), Newark, Philadelphia, Erie, Baltimore, Chicago, Milwaukee, Atlanta, Phoenix, Los Angeles and Las Vegas. People have either been friendly or indifferent, but not hostile. The same has been true in barrios, both in the U.S. and, years ago, in Sonora and Baja California del Norte. These experiences tell me that separation is not the answer. Open mindedness and understanding of different styles of communication, however, are of the essence.

The same holds true for the idea, recently floated in the halls of Congress, and elsewhere, for a “national divorce”-letting regions or groups of states go their ways-even to the point, advanced by a local resident here, of a total dissolution of the nation-with fifty independent countries as the result-so “each state can follow its own destiny”. To this, I say “rubbish”! Any family, community, county, state (or province, for that matter) can attest to the difficulties resulting from differences of opinion, perspective, world view-what have you. The choices are either work through it all and focus on common ground, or give up and walk away.

We have seen five nations split apart, in my lifetime: Pakistan, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Sudan and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The first four were hybrid states, pieced together by colonial powers (Pakistan and Sudan) or by the participants in the Treaty of Versailles (Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia). The last one fell apart of its own weight. In none of these cases has the separation been complete and total. The nations arising from Yugoslavia have fought one another and still deal with cross-border tensions. Czechia and Slovakia have managed a more amicable separation and find themselves working together, both being part of the European Union. Pakistan and Bangladesh are both part of the union of South Asian states, their main bone of contention having been their being separated geographically, by India. Sudan and South Sudan are slowly learning the need for economic cooperation, despite their divisions, which are primarily tribal and religious in nature. As for the USSR, central planning and a sclerotic economy still hobble several of its former members-especially Russia. The Commonwealth of Independent States, floated by Boris Yeltsin, was a good idea on the surface, but because it mainly sought to maintain Russia’s dominance, it exists today only in name.

I have gone on too long, but the point is, we are a global family-and not talking, or talking trash, with each other, is going to “make the whole world blind”-as Gandhi said, referring to adherence to the Old Testament, back before World War II. There are people who see a better path, such as activists on both ends of the political spectrum, from South Central Los Angeles and rural West Virginia, who have chosen to work together for the common good. One group’s strength is collective effort. The other’s is individual initiative. There are uses for both.

There is, however, no use for throwing up hands and walking out on the very people who need a person’s individual strength and a group’s unified power. There is no strength in division.

Transactional

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February 23, 2023- The toddler was unequivocal in her expression, as toddlers can be. She wanted one specific item, and only that item-and what was Daddy doing with it, anyway? (He was keeping it safe from being scratched or broken, but minor details get lost in the shuffle.) Once she got the binky, all was right with the Universe.

A good many of us are transactional in our relationships, wanting one thing and only that one thing, from a friend or family member. This is the root of many a conflict, as I, for instance, may not value your binky, the way you do. I may not prioritize sitting by the window, waiting to be called for one reason or another. I also may not prioritize getting in the car and driving back to the place from which I just came, because I missed seeing someone, due to a change in their schedule. What I do prioritize is what helps those who have been marginalized, what brings people together, especially those who have historically been set against one another-even if that separation is due to the egotism of one or another-or both. I prioritize clear communication and the well-being of both individuals and people as a group. I have learned to prioritize my own needs, as well, since if I am incapacitated, I can’t help anyone.

Rant over. The day actually went well, even though an old friend was not available, due to circumstances that were made clear to me, after I got back to Home Base. The snow, en route, was light and did not affect traffic at all. There was some sort of mishap, between Casa Grande and Phoenix, going in the opposite direction on I-10. Traffic heading south appeared to be backed up for nearly six miles. Our traffic pattern was slow, but not backed up, and it took about fifty minutes to go from the southeast corner (Sun Lakes) to the northwest (Anthem) part of Metro Phoenix.

Earlier, I found a delightful little cafe in Patagonia, where I enjoyed coffee and a simple bowl of steel-cut oatmeal. Common Grounds was the site of the family encounter mentioned above, and is a relaxed place, with flexible ordering from the menu. A few others were able to get customized breakfasts, while I was there-and the food is of good quality.

Once checked out of Stage Stop Hotel, I drove to Nogales- taking in Primeria Alta Historical Museum, which offers balanced exhibits on the effects of Mexican history on border towns, the impact of the Buffalo Soldiers camp on life in Nogales and a special tribute to the women of Nogales and their impact. Charles Mingus, the great jazz musician and spiritualist, was born and raised in Nogales, and Mexican rhythms flow through his work, just as Blues and Gospel do. There is also an exhibit on the rancher, Pete Kitchen, and his evolved relationship with the Apaches, particularly with Cochise and his son, Chise.

Pimeria Alta Historical Museum, Nogales

The ties with Mexico are duly celebrated, of course, and in no better form than a triptych of Mexican history by Salvador Corona, who took up painting after retiring from his career as a matador. He covers the time before Spanish conquest, the meeting of Moctezuma and Cortez and the days of Spanish rule.

“Pre-Conquest”, by Salvador Corona
“Moctezuma Meets Cortez”, by Salvador Corona
“Colonial Era”, by Salvador Corona

The life and achievements of Father Eusebio Kino, who founded several Missions, in what is now Sonora, as well as in Arizona, is covered at length here as well. He is best known for having established the Mission at San Xavier del Wac, southwest of Tucson.

Now my transactions are done for the day, and I sit here at Home Base, having driven pretty much nonstop, but at a leisurely pace, from Nogales. We’ll see what, if anything, this storm system brings over the weekend.