Walking Out of Never-Never Land

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June 9, 2023- My immediate superior in the camp operation waited with me, for two hours and forty minutes. At long last, a call came, and we were told that there was, in fact, no camp today. It will be tomorrow and Sunday only. It all makes sense-as the group in question has a two day camp slated for the weekend after Independence Day. I.S. wishes there were more camps of course. This is what sustains him. For me, it is high up, among the irons in my fire.

Speaking of which, one of the andirons that was dropped into said fire was brought back into urgent mode, as I was sitting and waiting for the camp-related call. I was told that a desperate soul was getting even more desperate. The gist was a recap of all that has been shared with me, over the past three months-only stated more shrilly and with more of a tone of recrimination directed at various agencies which the person felt have been callous and negligent in the matter of the aggrieved family.

After a fair amount of back and forth, and once the plaintive one sensed that I was heading back to Home Base for the night, an agreement was reached to meet me at an agency that might be helpful, in a few days. Desperate soul was able to walk out of Never-Never Land and see a glimmer of light. I will follow through on Monday-which is in-between camps-and hopefully make this person see that reality is not all bad-and agencies can be drawn in to do good for suffering people, if the people in those agencies are treated as prospective allies, instead of as implacable enemies.

My one mission in abeyance and the other having been set on a corrected course, I took in a fine session of popular and country tunes, at Rafter Eleven. I like to be able to relax with a refreshing bowl of soup, al fresco, at the end of a challenging day.

Slippery

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June 8, 2023- The wine glass slipped out of the bartender’s hand, crashing and breaking on the floor, with one piece bouncing upwards, just inches away from the busser’s girlfriend, who calmly got up from the stool where she had been enjoying her salad, and helped her boyfriend clean up the shards. One other piece bounced over by me, and the startle reflex led to my knocking my water glass a bit, spilling a bit of water, which caused a chuckle from the crew. Through this 30 seconds of mayhem, the solo guitarist/singer on the other side of the room kept playing.

Old baggage can be slippery to discard, as well. I have been catching up on a series of videos about EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique), commonly known as Tapping. In the two segments I watched today, Dr. Carol Look, Psychotherapist, walked us through the steps of the technique. When I was done with two repetitions of the process, the issue on which I focused was no longer a “5”, on a scale of 1-10, but a “2”. A second issue was the focus of the next segment’s practice. That issue decreased from “5” to “1”. Of course, regular use of this technique will no doubt be in order, given the appearances of novel situations that might cause lack of self-confidence. I can say, though, that it works for me.

First Camp, Day Four: Overcoming Cold and Dark

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June 5, 2023, Bellemont- The power grid seemed to be playing cat and mouse with the girls and me. One young lady would come to me with a complaint about the lights going off, in their section of the bath house; I would toggle the relevant circuit switch and the lights were back. Five minutes later, I would get a text message from someone else, and go back and toggle again. The process happened a third time. Then, a chaperone reported that the power had gone out in the overflow women’s cabin.

That brought the AHA moment: The cabin in question was connected to the same breaker unit as the women’s bath house and there were three space heaters in use, at the time the power kept cutting off. The solution was to connect the cabin with a less-used circuit. There was no repeat of any outage.

Back in Prescott, a single mother who has fallen on hard times, only partly of her own making, has been messaging me with pleas for help. All I can do, either here or in Home Base, is encourage her to seek legal aid and the help of a social service agency. I will do so, ad nauseam if necessary, until the light shines through. Too often, people in trouble will insist on depending upon individuals to help them, whether psychologically or financially. The first only works when the prospective helper can be focused, in perpetuity many times. The second only works when he/she is both well-oiled and willing t.o share their money. Neither one will work, though, if the challenged soul is buried beneath a pile of victim blankets.

I have been in both situations. Fortunately, my victimhood was cut to pieces by family members who knew just the right combination of Good Cop and Bad Cop. I was out of the hole, within four years-but it took my own determination to get upright and stay that way. Conversely, I have had to be the Bad Cop with three people who came to me for help, would not help themselves, screamed and yelled that I was not solving their problems and ended up being cut off. I saw one of them later and learned he taken charge of his own life. His enablers were gone. Sometimes, rock bottom is what it takes.

No one is entitled to a bed of roses. My life only became good when I was willing to take responsibility for all of it. Teamwork makes things better, yes, and so does a measure of self-reliance-which requires self-respect. Thus may one dispel cold and dark.

These Messes

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May 31, 2023- The video showed three men piling gallon bottles of various laundry detergents into shopping carts, with a caption that the men were shoplifters. No actual footage was shown of them actually leaving the store without paying for the items. Indeed, for many corporations, the policy is to terminate any employee who films shoppers-or shoplifters, for that matter.

There are several cities, responding, I am told, to Federal guidelines for reducing prison populations, that have decriminalized “petty theft”. While the majority of us, of any ethnicity, don’t have the hubris to just up and steal everything they want, there have always been those who believe it’s their right to take-free of charge. This, of course, drives up costs to the retailer-or wholesaler-insurance, loss prevention staffing, legal fees and the expenses inherent in NOT being able to keep shoppers and employees safe, in and around a store. Thus, prices go up, more people bristle at the cost of living and-you see the pattern.

Decriminalizing theft of less than $1000 worth of merchandise, like decriminalizing publicly relieving oneself, living in public parks or in front/back of buildings or aggressively panhandling, is seen by its proponents as the lesser of two evils. Crimes against property, after all, are not the same as crimes against people.

Two things: 1. The two classes of offense intersect at a certain point. Relatively few people can, or want to, live a DIY lifestyle. That means that commercial products need to be affordable-for everyone. When crimes against property pass a certain threshold, people get hurt-and not just in the wallet. The thieves, in the end, become tigers chasing their own tails-and everyone else, including the family and friends of a thief, has to pay extra. No one can live a falsely gratuitous lifestyle in perpetuity, especially in this age of surveillance.

2. The culture of greed starts at the top of the food chain. The mentality of the Hedge Fund or Private Equity groups and managers who buy up properties, in what is known as “Snap-Up Culture” is oftentimes several degrees separate from the needs of the communities in which those properties lie, or which the businesses located in them serve. The “Golden Rule”, stated way back in 1995, in the Disney animated film, “Aladdin”, is “He who has the gold, rules”. Of course, this does not paint all such investors with a broad brush, but there is a critical mass being reached-and those watching from outside the circle are drawing the wrong conclusions. They, too, are deciding to take without giving back.

The transition, from exclusivity to its opposite, is a series of messes. All transitions that are not completely thought through, are messy. Conservatives respond to the chaos by calling for stronger policing; reactionaries, by advocating One-Party rule and a return to the days of privilege and exclusion. Those on the Far Left don’t think change is happening quickly enough. Some call for reparations to be given the descendants of the enslaved, though how such descendants might be determined is open to question. Others call for beating those who oppose abortion, while some on the opposite end of the spectrum think bringing back lynching is still on the table.

I’ve gone past my usual limit, so let’s end with this: How costly is it to consider the rational and reasonable elements of a social opposite’s belief system? How detrimental to one’s well-being is it to follow the original Golden Rule? A physical, elemental world revolves around limits-some temporary, others fixed. We can attain much in this life; just not everyone, everywhere, all at once.

Passing By Irritation Station

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May 30, 2023- It never fails. I find myself in a grumpy mood, in spite of an excellent weigh-in report, and the end of Memorial Day weekend, which always seems to leave me irritated, due to its rather conflicted nature. I won’t say “Happy Memorial Day”, even though death itself is not a horrible thing. The day itself is a solemn occasion, due to the nature of the passages we honour. Many were killed in the line of duty. Any gatherings are events I attend sparingly.

My irritation was partly left over from having been dismissed from the presence of someone who had previously been polite, even friendly, at yesterday’s crafts fair. I guess the poor soul was just exhausted and wanted to be alone, but the abruptness of it all rankled a bit. Then, news came that another friend had been injured, in a favourite activity. Friend needs to just rest, for tonight, and we will see what the situation is in the morning.

Once I exercised and enjoyed a maple-flavoured cacao bean, the mood eased, and a message from another friend in the Northwest made the day end on a pleasant note. The end of the post-Mercury retrograde phase is also supposed to signal more positive energy, but one can always find something to blame for a bad mood. I have learned to just work through it and try not to trouble anyone else.

A Broken String

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May 27, 2023-Of course, it happened just as Rick was getting into an extended riff, for his last song of the evening: A string broke, on his electric guitar. With a shrug of his shoulders, the craftsman and artist took out a new string and replaced the errant interrupter, in less than two minutes. Then, he resumed playing a rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Old Love”, from where he had left off-no mean feat of memory. The Bluesman has a limited playlist, but it is surely larger than mine, since I don’t play anything other than a hand drum and a few chords on a piano. He never fails to entertain, this one-man band.

Last-minute events never fail to either aggravate or astonish. Certainly, the buzzer-beating shot by Derrick White, giving the Celtics the win in this evening’s NBA East Semifinals Game 6, will rate among the great turnarounds in professional sports history. Boston teams have done it before-the Red Sox, in 2004 and the Patriots, several times. It was actually the New York Yankees, Penny’s favourite team, who perfected the art of Last Minute Charlie-hood- often coming from behind, in the last half of the ninth inning, and more than once, with two outs.

Mickey Spillane, Al Capone and Dame Nelly Melba said it best, if in a politically-awkward, and in Dame Nelly’s case, self-deprecating, way: “The show’s not over until the fat lady sings”. Nothing is truly over until its last element has transpired. The lengthy tussle over the national debt ceiling is about to come to at least a two-year respite. Let’s hope there is no last-minute broken string.

Those Quirks

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May 23, 2023- Ms. Jessie reacted to news of her friend’s illness by heading over to the woman’s house. It was storming outside, and she could barely see to pull into the driveway. Ms. Jessie’s vehicle was high-centered, so she called the friend, frantically, to come outside. The sick woman came out, looked at the mess, and called a male friend, who had a truck with a tow bar. He came over and managed to extricate Ms. Jessie’s vehicle, after which, Ms. Jessie and the friend had something of a laugh over the whole thing.

Ms. Jessie passed on, not long ago, leaving a lifetime of similar stories and memories-the things that transpired because she was Ms. Jessie, and had come to look at life through a particular lens. Her daughter said she hurt no one by what she did, and that she had raised her early and well.

Each of us has our quirks. Mine were off-center enough that I am remembered by some in my circle as an “odd duck”. The water has fallen off my back, in that regard. I have become somewhat more conventional, in my early senior years. On the other hand, Sagitarrian wandering, a sense of duty to the Divine-in the form of service to others and being responsive to spiritual energy prompts have combined to make my activities still rather a full slate-and not always predictable to others. The closest of friends and family shake their heads and smile knowingly.

One of the finer aspects of this meandering life has been all the characters I’ve met, over the years, each of whom has had something to teach me. In Ms. Jessie’s case, it was with regard to flowers-how to keep them in bloom longer-and with more varied arrangements. I might have been a bit more cautious as to taking her advice about navigating roads. I have had enough of my own problems, now and then, in that regard.

Gotta love those quirks, though. RIP, Ms. Jessie.

Categorical

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May 22, 2023- Wagging her finger at me, the perturbed woman growled: “Conservative is the only way!” She was at least communicative; her husband grumbled and walked off, cutting me off in mid-sentence. All this, because I was not of the same opinion about a relatively small issue, which I’ve actually already forgotten.

Labels are actually becoming increasingly irrelevant. Even Donald Trump has a strategy for re-election that involves a No Labels Party. Every one of us has aspects of our being that span the political spectrum. I knew Hippies who were incredibly straight-laced about their friendships and interracial ties. I’ve known buttoned-down businessmen who embrace a great tolerance for opposite points of view.

I am conservative, when it comes to common courtesy-from greeting people, to table manners, to respect for my elders. I am progressive, when it comes to honouring dignity-towards people of colour, towards women and girls, towards children and teens, towards street people and towards rural citizens. I am moderate, when it comes to speech and consideration of opposite points of view.

There are times to take a stand- and that process is one I learned from my father. He never came down hard and dogmatic, but stood his ground handsomely and always in a dignified manner. He was able to summarize other people’s viewpoints to us, in a way that made perfect sense, but not necessarily giving the impression that he agreed with them.

I cannot let myself be pigeonholed or typecast. Such misdirected performance art would solve nothing,

Last Minute

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May 18, 2023- The message was sudden, but not all that surprising. Essentially, it was ‘I have run into difficulty. Please stop what you’re doing and help me get out of this jam.’ Being one who has to deliberate a bit, when it comes to unanticipated requests, I replied that I had no pat answers or novel solutions.

I understand the situation. There have been times, as recently as twelve years ago, when I would leave things until the last minute, then pitch to family and friends for relief. This came from telling myself that life is too hard, too unfair and that if only people knew my heart, they would gladly keep on helping me out. The finest response I ever got was “Enough! Work it out, even if it’s painful for a while.” That was from someone who did know my heart.

From that point on, I learned that taking full responsibility and reverting to my former practice of finding solutions in advance of an emergency, and connecting with the providers of those solutions-in other words, networking, when necessary, allows for a much fuller, more satisfying life-and for better friendships. The days when people, rightfully, would run when they saw me coming, are in the past. I aim to keep it that way.

After several hours of reflection, and of consulting with other friends, it is clear that the individual who needs help is best pointed towards an agency, rather than random assistance from a scattering of angels.

The Energy Field Is Always Right

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May 16, 2023, Los Angeles- Someone swiped my light jacket, right out from under the baggage handler’s nose. It was a gift from another friend, a while back, and only cost them $20. Serves me right, for having tied it to the outside of my checked bag-and the fleet-footed thief will not be charged, under LA’s “$900 or less” grace ordinance-designed to keep the jails less crowded. Still, it’ll be a briefly chilly morning dash to my car, when we get to Flagstaff early tomorrow. I have plenty of other jackets and coats at Home Base.

Someone is bound to say: “It might not have happened, had you kept your original plan and gone up to the Northwest, any way you could.” Of course, there’s that. There are also these: 1. Plans change, because the energy behind them shifts. 2. In that light, three events in or near Home Base over the next six days, necessitate my presence. 3. My friends in the Northwest have enough with which to concern themselves right now, without my stopping in on short notice. (Maybe three-to-five days in July, before V’s play, in Carson City, will be enough to connect with them. We’ll see what transpires.

I had plenty of alone time at HI Sacramento, last night, to ponder what lies ahead in the next six months, and to plan accordingly. There were few people around, and those who were hosteling were a costume jeweler and his associate, working on their merchandise. In the quietude, some very strong messages came to me-along with a sense that each month between now and November will find me on the road, in the air, and so on. Each of these months will also entail activities around Home Base. There is always a balance, even for one whose public persona seems to be that of a rolling stone. The messages do have one constant: “Your time is not going to feel like it’s your own- especially on certain days.” There is, however, a basic feeling of safety. Paying attention to the energy field also imparts what is needed, in order to make every minute count and each task successful.

After a series of charter bus and train rides, from Sacramento to this city of angels, with wings that have varying levels of dirt, I am in a lightly-populated train car and ready to just relax through the night. Looking at the stops ahead-other than Fullerton, Riverside and San Bernardino, the stops are all rural and unlikely to result in a crowded train. The conductor says his manifest indicates a number of people embarking tomorrow morning in Winslow. By then, I will be enjoying a hot breakfast and coffee, probably in Camp Verde-as Flagstaff’s establishments won’t open before 7 a.m., and an hour’s drive down the highway will be in order.

Good night, all, and may the Force stay with you.