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.

Instead Of…….

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February 22, 2023, Patagonia, AZ- No matter what one does in this life, there will always be someone who thinks something else should have been done, instead.

I’ve heard suggestions, albeit gentle, that:

Instead of being in southern Arizona right now, I should be back in Prescott, preparing to set up a storm shelter.

Instead of setting up a storm shelter, I should be helping out in understaffed schools.

Instead of doing my “own thing”, I should be checking with those who could really use my assistance, back at Home Base.

I’m not being singled out, by any means. The President, no matter who he (and someday, she) is has more suggestions as to how to do the job, than just about anyone on the planet. Witness how the zero sum crowd equates the current president’s visit to Kiyyiv with unconcern for East Liverpool, or for the Mexican border. Anyone else in a leadership role has similar experiences.

There is another type of “Instead of”. That is when a planned activity is a victim to changing circumstances, and being graceful calls for other activities to take its place.

Thus, on this journey, the ferocious winds and rain that came here, this morning, nixed a hike to the border, in Coronado National Monument. Instead, I came upon San Pedro House, about eight miles north of Sierra Vista, where I spent last night. A delightful, if less taxing, hike in a loop from the small house to the San Pedro River and back, about 1.5 miles, replaced the planned activity. The winds were not as fierce as they were further south and I got to pay homage to one of the last free-flowing rivers in the Southwest.

Here are a few scenes from the privately conserved area.

San Pedro House, Cochise County
San Pedro River, between Sierra Vista and Bisbee.
Willow and Cottonwood, San Pedro Interpretive Trail
San Pedro River, assuming a channel-like flow.
Green Kingfisher Pond, fed by the San Pedro.
Wind-whipped grass, San Pedro Interpretive Trail.
Wooden water bin, near San Pedro House.
Children once played in this cabin, under the live oak.
Secured utility pole, leaning from the high winds, Old Town Bisbee.

After leaving San Pedro House, I headed to Bisbee, hoping to take lunch at High Desert Market and Cafe. It was closed today, so instead I found Le Cornucopia Cafe, just across the street from this temporarily concerning scene, of a tottering utility pole which, as one onlooker put it, could have set all Old Bisbee on fire, had it toppled and set the wires to sparking. The situation was handled swiftly and well. As for Le Cornucopia, their curried lentil soup filled the simple lunch bill very nicely.

Finally, as the wind was still pretty intense and a mix of rain and snow was falling, as evening approached, I came into this old mining town, in northern Santa Cruz County-an area of Arizona that I had not visited previously. Sonoita and Patagonia are picturesque, with the latter having a charming “Old West” hotel. So, here I am at Stage Stop Inn, for the night.

Stage Stop Inn, Patagonia

It always pays to follow the heart. The Universe has yet to steer me wrong.

Nature and Nurture

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February 21, 2023, Sierra Vista- The day began, nicely enough, though it was raining in Superior. The rain continued, off and on, while I was taking in Boyce Thompson Arboretum, the town’s crown jewel. I have been here, three times before, but never under cloudy skies or when rain alternated between drenching shower and light drizzle. I was no worse for the wear; nor were any of the seventy or so others, including 57 fourth-and fifth-grade students, who did not let the weather get between them and the bountiful flora-with collections from various arid and semiarid areas around the globe. Starting with our own Sonoran Desert, the park takes in the neighbouring Chihuahuan, the Kalahari, western Sahara, the Mediterranean Rim, the deserts of Asia, of Australia and of South America.

Here are six scenes of nature, taking in its nutrients, on this mid-winter day.

East face of Picketpost Mountain, Boyce Thompson Arboretum
East face of Picketpost Mountain, as the fog is lifting.
Teddy Bear Cholla, rejoicing in the moisture.
Early blossoming camellias
A cardinal looks for food.
A pair of stone watchmen, east face of Picketpost Mountain.

There is much for me to visit, still, the next time I come this way: The Asian and South American desert gardens and Picketpost House, most specifically.

Next up was Biosphere II, the site of an experiment in enclosed living and recreation of natural environments, within that enclosed space. Two teams, each managing a separate mission, worked the space between 1991-1994. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biosphere_2. The space is presently owned and operated by the University of Arizona, which maintains the site in a good faith synergy with the original vision of Ed Bass and John P. Allen, who themselves were inspired by Buckminster Fuller’s “Spaceship Earth” project. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operating_Manual_for_Spaceship_Earth.

The site remains the largest closed ecological system ever created. Here are several photographs of the site, taken by my trusty camera, until it ran out of battery.

Staff residences and common building (right foreground), Biosphere II.
Overview of Main Campus, Biosphere II.
View of garden, Central Commons building
Freight Farm-the buildings in which hydroponic farming produces what is needed for the residents to live.
The Lung-which regulates air pressure, within the glass enclosure.
Fog-laden desert scape. This is one of many environments, created and maintained, within the glass-enclosed laboratory. Others include both High and Low Savanna, Rain Forest and Ocean.

Biosphere II was a noble effort, laid low by power-seeking and by human conflict. Nonetheless, the University of Arizona is giving the basic mission of the site its best shot. I am at a loss to succinctly describe the physics of LEO. This article may explain the concept, by which three landscapes are created on site. https://biosphere2.org/research/research-initiatives/landscape-evolution-observatory-leo

Microaggressions

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February 19, 2023- Jim Morrison once offered the verse, “No one here gets out alive”, in The Doors song, “Five to One”. It became the title of his biography and a caution to anyone who acts as if they are above it all. There is no one, least of all myself, who cannot improve on both inner thoughts and on behaviour towards self and others.

This afternoon, an earnest young woman offered a presentation on “Microaggressions”, small actions stemming from deeply ingrained attitudes-many of which began to take root in childhood. Reflecting back, I recall hearing a racist version of “Eenie, Meenie Miney Mo”-not knowing what the epithet at the end meant, until Mom said she’d wash our mouths out with soap, if we copied our friends’ use of the term again. It wasn’t until Martin Luther King, Jr’s speeches began to be broadcast on the Nightly News that I figured out how deeply offensive the epithet was to African-Americans.

Still and all, behaviours which did not seem to bother other White people DID bother Blacks, and I am grateful that I was called out on them, almost immediately-and told WHY they were offensive. Anything which does not allow for equitable treatment of all people, regardless of their outward features, has no true place in the human fabric. It will take time and patience, both with oneself and with all one meets, to overcome the little affronts, which do add up-and contribute to misunderstandings, and feelings of being aggrieved.

Humour is often used in such faux pas-and the offended person is often asked, “Can’t you take a joke?” The answer, when a relationship has not been firmly established and mutual trust deeply ingrained, is “No”. Humour ought not, ever, be used as a screen, behind which one may toss darts at people who are different. The better option is self-examination, on a daily basis, and increasing one’s understanding of the deeper cultural elements that might lead to someone feeling microaggression directed against him/her.

No one here gets PHYSICALLY out alive, but we can certainly grow our spirits.

Truncated

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February 16, 2023- Two boys took up my attention, for much of the day-one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Both did their best to dodge work, but I have crafted my own style of dodging, over the years. Each young man was eased into completing at least two hours of work-at his own level and pace, but it was done willingly. I have heard that little good is ever achieved through the use of force-and I am seeing that it is true.

Today was the last day of four weeks worth of substitute teaching assignments. The work ended up being truncated, with snow and ice getting in the way of schooling- three weeks ago and again, yesterday. My first thoughts, on both occasions, were for the safety and well-being of all the affected children. It happened, on the first canceled day, that someone dropped the ball, just a tad, and a busload of students sat for an hour, then gave up and went home. The driver, for his part, kept them all safe and warm for that hour. The issue was communication, back and forth, at higher levels-probably including a call or two to state education officials. There is no truncating the safety of people, especially of children, and it is my understanding that lessons were learned by people long out of school.

My journey to southern Arizona is also truncated-and will be from noon on Monday to late Thursday afternoon or evening. The route will be circular and clockwise-to Superior, Biosphere II, Bisbee and Coronado National Monument, that I may finish a hike to the border, and head back up, through Sonoita, Patagonia and Tucson-making a call on an old friend, before getting back in time for activities on Friday morning-at the very least. Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and Kitt Peak will happen, later this Spring, as a separate journey.

Some things will never be truncated: My loyalty to, and love for, family and friends-even though I may not see or speak with them much. We will each meet again when it matters most. Just know you are never out of my consciousness.

Other People’s Romance And The Late Arrival

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February 14, 2023- The white stuff is still coming down, fast and furious, though it did not really start falling here, until just after 4:30 p.m. It may continue until midnight, thus putting a lot of pressure on the road crews, to get everything cleared overnight-with schools and businesses otherwise facing closure. Ah, yes- the old business as usual vs. safety debate. I will get up at 5 a.m. and see how things shake out.

In the meantime, the soup’s in the crock pot, and I, along with most everyone, am safe and warm. Today brought the news of progress on all fronts, in my battle against the bulge. Otherwise, it was rather quiet here. An episode-by-episode study of the series, “The Chosen” with Episode 1 tonight, and continuation, in earnest of my winter reading, were the main events in this little abode, besides the soup having been started.about two hours ago.

The snow has stopped, at least for now, but the ice drama has taken over. Our street is a challenge to many of the people, likely from areas which see little or no winter weather, who “were sure” they could make the hill, with no problem. There has been a fair amount of hiking this evening, once the drivers were guided safely into off road parking. There was even a person-carry, of someone who had no boots and was in heels. (No, I was NOT the carrier.) That should make for a Valentine’s story for the ages.

I wish all, who are able to get out and celebrate with a loved one, the very best this evening-snow or no snow.

I Might Have……….

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February 11, 2023-

I might have loved St. Andrews, a treasure by the sea, but I had to shoot my mouth off, and felt compelled to flee.

I might have made a bundle, and climbed the ladder high, but I fell hard for the bottle, and let good fortune slide.

I might have stayed in college, and fallen for a sweet colleen, but it became more enticing to wear the Army green.

The Universe, as it happened, had greater plans for me, from the day I was sent back homeward the Light was there for me to see.

So, my life has unfolded nicely, with faith, love and good fortune, a loving wife and son. Time and tide actually did wait for this errant soul to return, and follow the One.

I have come to love St. Andrews, and much, much else besides. The key it seems, is to take nightmare with dreams, and from nothing, seek to hide.

,

Who, The People?

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February 2, 2023- Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this morning. Legend has it that this means six more weeks of winter. Other animals did not see their shadows, thus there will be an early spring. People, like prognosticating animals, are of different minds about the same thing.

A heartfelt message appeared recently, asking me to re-consider support for the “Wokies”, who were “brainwashed”. The message cited “We, The People”, as its source. This group wants to “take the country back”.

Another group, also “We, The People”, notes that a good part of the nation has been disenfranchised in the past, and some are at risk of being disenfranchised again. They strive to “take the country forward”. So, who are ‘The People”?

On Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, a wise woman said “All means all”, whether some are heroic and well-grounded or cowardly and self-centered. She has a keener sense of an answer to the above question. The Eternal brought all human beings into existence. Some, adopting a belief in self-reliance, grow into a conservative, business-oriented philosophy or go even further, eschewing virtually all dealings with government, above the local level. Others, adopting a communalist stance, grow into a progressive, social-justice oriented stance or go even further, eschewing any dealings with “the elite”.

We are ALL “The People”. There are countless examples of people in public life savaging each other one minute, and being compelled to seek each other out, the next. The recent exchanges during the selection of a Speaker of the U.S.House of Representatives are a mild example. A few years ago, a member of one faction of the House encountered a fellow passenger in medical distress, on a flight from Washington to Phoenix. He summoned a member of the opposite faction, with whom he had been arguing almost incessantly in the course of House business, and the two managed to save the suffering man’s life.

The best thing that can happen to any soul is to be put in a situation where interaction with someone who has an opposite, or challenging, take on how society ought be organized, is in the best interests of both. There are no “POSes” or “wastes of DNA”.

We are ALL “The People”.

The Rocks Are The Ones Who Endure

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February 1, 2023- The young man privately explained his actions, wanting to make sure that I understood and was not swayed by the chatter of others. I determined that it would be best for me to mainly observe what everyone was doing, and pay close attention to his teaching style. All in all, he led well, and engaged the students, through some rather tough subject matter. The other staff followed his lead and maintained a unified front. it was a good day.

In times past, I have been inclined to take the side of a woman, in disputes, especially if the man comes across as bombastic and patriarchal. Time has shown that this is not always fair-and that women (and girls) can certainly be devious and less than truthful as well. It is the subsequent behaviour that often gives the culpable party away-and I am not surprised if both are at fault.

Yet, it is the person who is direct in communication, sure of self and able to cut through the fog of others’ machinations and misinformation who gets my support and confidence. Often, that has been a woman, but it is MOST often the person who is being shut out by a small coterie. I have been in that situation, countless times, and so am more inclined to offer the outlier the benefit of the doubt. That happened in this case, and I am confident that the students are in good hands, all around. It’s been a good three days, even if I was mainly a fly on the wall.

Those who are towers of strength, who withstand buffeting winds, who are rocks, are the ones who will endure. Those who yammer and undermine would do well to stop, look and listen.