Much Ado….

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May 30, 2021- Have you spent much time in your life, building a small matter up, until it becomes overwhelming? It often occurred, that the matters, which so affrighted me before they were resolved, quickly became lost in the fog of the mind’s archival footage, once a day or two had passed.

These are matters most often related to finance, or to interpersonal relationships. Panic attacks and anxiety (which are serious medical matters, deserving of professional attention) aside, it generally happens that careful thought and emotional grounding can help to put things in their true perspective. Past unpleasant experiences can cloud one’s judgment, so it is important to recognize that each situation is different, that learnings from the previous bad experience can be put to use for a better outcome, this time and that the person, him/herself, is different now than before.

There are situations, of course, which are dire and which deserve all the “ado” they can be given: The illness or disability of a loved one, especially of one’s child, spouse or parent; a natural disaster which threatens or damages one’s home; a sociopolitical riot or rampage in one’s home area. That, in turn, is why we humans are social beings-that we may call on one another and anticipate support in a truly dire emergency.

I have had such emergencies in my life, and am fortunate that my family and close friends have been responsive and helpful, in a nonjudgmental manner. I would do the same for them.

Living Dreams

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May 28, 2021- In the midst of settling back in, for four weeks or so, I took the time to work on resolving the one nagging issue that has pursued me, for three years and, most recently, across the country and back: Doing something about African poverty. To his credit, my constant correspondent has become much more forthcoming about how he specifically plans to use any funds that are raised in his name. That made it much easier for me to set up a secure transfer process, for the funds which others and I raise, from now until June 21. There are two things to consider, both matters of justice: 1. Neither I, nor anyone else, am/is obligated to send money, in perpetuity, to anyone who requests it (Calling me “Dad”, or “brother”, does not help matters any, either); 2. At the same time, neither I, nor anyone else, can simply ignore the less fortunate. I have mentioned before, that I give, locally and further afield, to a reasonable extent, so that others may realize their goals-or at least survive. This current, limited and task-specific effort is an example of that. Each person is free to pursue a dream. No one is free to bleed another person dry.

My own dreams are quite simple. Most involve building and maintaining friendships, and being there for people, emotionally and physically. So, I am present, when here at Home Base, and when on the road. This summer will be another one of “those”, which make more sedentary people roll their eyes. The fourth week of June, in Carson City/Reno and Pyramid Lake; July 5, onward, to the Dallas area, New England and several points in between, then across the northern tier to Oregon and Washington, before September beckons, and I take another Home Base respite. October, in western Poland and Germany(Mom’s ancestral region), and a zip down to Croatia to visit an online friend, is still possible. Yes, I get my fill of visiting historical and natural wonders, but I do that here, too.

Dreams are affected by the wider reality, and a relatively minor medical issue may alter my plans a bit, but in the end, the dream and the goal are the bases for what one achieves in life.

Home Base Bound: Day 2

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May 22, 2021, Terre Haute- Any day that begins with a simple, but fortified, breakfast at Route 220 (formerly Bedford) Diner, in Bedford, PA and ends with tossed crispy chicken salad from Fricker’s, Richmond, IN, is a good one. I go as much by the ambiance of an eatery as with the quality of the food and the congeniality of the staff is always a huge factor. Both the above-mentioned establishments are high on my list, along with nearly two dozen others, in this country and abroad.

The thing that stood out for me today was the tenor of the traffic. It was slow only in one spot, east to west: The area in and around Wheeling. That is largely do to the seemingly endless construction projects along I-70, which have been part of the scene for at least four years now. West to east, I was awestruck by the length of a tie-up from about 5 miles west of Richmond, IN-to the Ohio state line. As we sailed along, in the other direction, there was scant movement across the highway.

The other common thread was capricious speed and lane-changing. I-70, at times, resembled the Indianapolis Speedway, or should I say Phoenix International Raceway. Several of us were excoriated for staying a safe distance behind the vehicles in font of us, with the horn-blasters and fist-pumpers upset that they could not squeeze behind us, on whim. The prize went to one, from an undetermined state, doing 100 in the outside lane-and few saw him coming, until his squealing horn made us abandon our own plans to pass others, in a safe manner. Last time I saw, he was still doing 100, in the slow lane-which is the passing lane of choice for too many these days.

I spent the last leg of this day’s drive on U.S. 40, from Plainview to Terre Haute, finally locating a motel which was actually open for business: The Woodridge. It’s a relaxed, homey place, which again is what appeals to me about overnight accommodations.

The life of this sometime wanderer is a series of blessings.

Around Hometown: Day 2

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May 18, 2021, Saugus- My visit with Mom, this evening, produced a lot of talk of her long life, with the joyous acknowledgement that her life is far from over. She is grateful that she has us, her children, tending to the house and making time to visit her in this first week in new quarters. None of us would have it any differently. Mother has given us so much of herself, from my own Day One, onward. Another woman in our nuclear family has taken on so much of tending to her needs- as well as initiating and maintaining the process of clearing and selling the old house. This week is the least we men can do to help out. I will likely be back, in late July or early August, to follow up with Mom’s progress in adjusting to her new home. In the meantime, she has plans to join in the Center’s activities and I know she will make new friends.

Curiously, the “don’t forget about us” calls and messages I have been getting, from elsewhere in the country and across the globe, have both made me put this current effort into perspective, and have triggered some old trauma, which has only been vaguely in my memory. I have figured a way to help another family, experiencing dislocation, even as my mother has successfully been resettled. There is someone else, in another part of the world, whose difficulties are, in large part, the result of his community’s failure to act in concert with one another. When I have encountered such dystopia, in the past, the feelings that have arisen are confusion, anxiety, then sadness, and finally, an angry outburst at those who refuse to work together. There is also a measure of self-loathing, as invariably those same people will turn and list all of what they claim are my own shortcomings and all the ways that I have failed them.

My psyche is changing, though, and I am seeing more clearly that the only way out of any impasse is for those on the ground to work together-and never for someone from outside to swoop in, throw money at the problem, and leave. That colonialist and patriarchal method has become the default for so many, in impoverished communities, both in this country and elsewhere. I am no longer going to blame myself for the refusal of others to help themselves, regardless of their own past experiences.

When I left Saugus, so many years ago, I was hobbled by fear, uncertainty of self-worth and the Rescuer Syndrome. That was not my parents’ fault, but it was my burden to cast aside. It is gone, now, and I feel it important to hold others to the same standard. All communities, especially those which are disadvantaged, need to band together and raise themselves up-confronting, as a unit, every single obstacle in their way.

Hometown Bound: Day 4

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May 15, 2021, Hartford- The governments are scaling back their mandates, but businesses are protecting themselves and their employees. So, I am still finding, in the swath of the Southwest, Midwest and Northeast that I have visited and enjoyed, over these four days.

It has not affected traffic, all that much. Going around Indianapolis and Columbus, I saw about as much traffic as I remember, in those fair cities. I noticed scant fear of strangers, so long as those strangers adhered to posted rules. My longest stop of the day was at the Bedford (PA) Service Center, along the Pennsylvania Turnpike. There, I picked up some road food, rather than go into town and visit Bedford Diner, as I really needed to get to the night’s lodging, before dawn tomorrow. Good-natured banter with a truck driver, whilst waiting for the food to be readied, made this break refreshing, and the food was energizing.

That was crucial. I did not have the luxury of stopping by and visiting with friends in southeast PA, as I so often do, on these jaunts. My destination was here, in Connecticut’s capital, some five hours from Bedford. Most of that, of course, was crossing the Keystone State. The scenery is ever enticing in Pennsylvania, with dense green forest and shimmering valleys. The Turnpike, though, is not enticing. Though the toll collection system, mercifully, is digitized, as it so often elsewhere in the country, the state of the roads is as much in flux as it ever was. Construction equipment is still everywhere, even as there were few, if any, workers present on this Saturday.

The icing on the cake came, in crossing New Jersey. The roads were not at all bad, and I-78 Express, towards the Big Apple, was finally finished, and smooth as glass. I stopped at a filling station in Basking Ridge, between Bedminster and Newark, was permitted to both fill up my own vehicle (rare in New Jersey) and use the restroom, even though the place was closing. The only other blip came at the toll booth for Garden State Parkway. There, I saw no ticket slot, in the dark, and walked over to the guy behind me in the vehicle line, telling him I was confused about where the ticket slot was. He grinned, and fortunately was understanding, handing me the ticket which he had found waiting, even without pushing the usual button.

After gratefully paying my ticket at the toll collection booth, five miles further, it was on through a small swath of New York City: The George Washington Bridge-which resembles a small village, anymore; the squeeze point of I-87 and the Cross-County (Westchester) and Hutchinson River (Connecticut) Parkways. Notable in this was the pair of racing teens, who deftly zigged and zagged through traffic, along the segment of Thruway we used to get out of the city. There was another guy, seemingly a bit hopped up, who flashed his lights behind me, several times, then also zigged and zagged out from behind me, and on into the night.

These sideshows, as potentially deadly as they might have been, seemed to me, edging towards this long day’s conclusion, to be just part of the mix. I still feel nothing but love and connection to the people I am meeting-more so than in times past. The shared struggle is likely a good contributor to that.

So, when I finally walked in the door of Travel Inn, a huge building that is still largely locked tightly, due to COVID-based restrictions, I felt like I had walked into home sweet home. Just about any place at all can feel like that, after 16 hours on the road.

Hometown Bound: Day 2

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May 13, 2021, Joplin, MO- Along the highways today, I passed the same onion truck seven times. We started out from Lisa’s Truck Stop, in Moriarty and he did not seem to stop much between there and Tulsa. At least, I would stop here and there, and would find him up the road, sometime later.

The day dawned, cool and gray, in Moriarty. I heated up what was left of last night’s Sombrero and savoured it, in the quiet at Lariat Motel. After getting a coffee at Lisa’s, I made a beeline for Amarillo.

The cool and gray dissipated, by the time I rolled into the parking lot, at Venezia Italian Restaurant, on Amarillo’s historic Sixth Street. Old pal Wes Hardin was there, standing outside his “new” car, which I found a relief-as he is again independent of cabs and Uber. Wes and I solved the problems of the nation and world, at least in our own minds, in the span of an hour, whilst enjoying Shrimp Alfredo and Lobster Ravioli, respectively.

With that accomplished, I bid farewell to Wes, as headed back to work and made my way east. A brief stop in Shamrock, TX revealed another friend, named Rusty was not at her cafe. It turns out this is an evening music and unwind type of establishment. Note to self: File that in travel notes.

I did not stop much in Oklahoma, gassing up in Sayre and stopping for a bite at the Stroud Travel Center, off the Turnpike. Block Party BBQ has pretty decent brisket. I will reach out to another friend in NW Oklahoma, on the way back, but for now, the main task is to make good time, between now and Sunday morning, when I should be in Saugus.

Turnpike traffic was relatively light, so I was surprised to see one of Joplin’s larger hotels was completely booked. No problems here, as my spirit guides set me towards the city’s shopping district, where I found Budget Inn and am set for the night.

The Long and the Short of It: Part II

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May 11, 2021- I was able to locate the Windows service for deleting temporary Internet files, so let’s see if that helps with the configuration issues that have been irksome, over the past few days.

The Elantra is ready for its first cross country jaunt, since 2019. It was found that the small brake light bulb, that kept burning out , is simply not well-made, with small filaments that don’t handle the bumps and lumps of our rougher roads-and those are the ones that are paved. It’s a nuisance, but also a First World problem.

The lack of regard for the safety of children is not just an American issue: Eleven people, many of them children, were shot to death yesterday, in Kazan, Russia. I can’t say it enough- It is not the God-given right of mentally ill people to bear arms. This does not mean those who have been successfully treated for mental illness can’t own firearms, but those still certifiably afflicted are a public safety menace, when given access to guns and ammunition.

It’s time to end the “audits” and voter restriction bills that seek to undo the results of LAST year’s election and/or prevent American citizens from voting, based on any number of anticipated, but unlikely, “potential frauds”. If anything, voter protection needs to be expanded. If that means there are laws passed that I may not like, then let the courts determine whether these are/are not constitutional. It is not up to state legislatures to circumvent the right of the people to vote as they please.

It’s starting to get warm here again, and I see that just as I am preparing to head out of town, the fires are kicking in. This time, I am taking care of family matters first, and pray for the safety of those in the back country, who might be affected by the present wildfire. My journey does not mean I don’t care about our County.

Onward and outward, it is.

The Long and the Short of It

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May 10, 2021- As get ready for a road trip, there are always good things that happen and challenges that interfere with what I need to do, day to day. The dental check-up I had this morning shows that regular care has stemmed the decline that had plagued my poor mouth, up until ten years ago. Tomorrow, I will get my car serviced and expect that all will be well, given the regular care the Grey Galloper has had, these past five years.

That leaves the device on which I am writing this piece. There are some issues with Windows 10, specifically the recent tendency for the screen to jump about and show a menu, starting with emojis. I will need the laptop for Zoom calls and for this blog, during the journey, so a long delayed servicing will wait until I get back. In the meantime, patience and a light touch will get us through.

My overall health is good, and I anticipate fine results from a physical exam, on the first of June. Exercise and good wellness practices have gone a long way to keeping this aging frame relatively robust.

With that, in two days’ time, I will be away from this salubrious Home Base and headed towards the home of my childhood. It will be time for a fond farewell to the house where so many memories of my youth were created.

The Rubber Tire Fire

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May 6, 2021- The six and seven-year-olds watched, from the safety of the playground and grassy field, as a thick black cloud rose, five miles away. The four of us adults watching the group of fifty fielded lots of questions and assuaged the concerns of those watching, that the fire would be upon us, “any minute now.”

It had been a most productive day, from working on mixed addition and subtraction to working on a Mother’s Day packet. The children worked well in pairs and in groups of four, with a bit of “He said I have no friends” and “She scribbled on my Mother’s Day heart”. Some things never change, and are just handled with care.

I stood with a thoughtful little man and explained how the smoke would not affect us, while he continued to express concern about the chance it could zip across five miles of houses and fields. I assured him the fire department was on the job, and as the smoke drifted eastward, well away from us, we all happily watched as the thick black cloud diminished-then disappeared altogether.

It was a bad day for a junkyard owner, but a good day for some little ones to keep faith in their elders, and in their First Responders.

Cinco de Mayo

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May 5, 2021- On May 5, 1862, a force of Mexican soldiers and patriots drove a larger force of French troops from the garrison at Puebla, southeast of Ciudad de Mexico. This day is observed in the present time, as a minor holiday in Mexico and as a folk holiday in parts of the United States. Indeed, the United states Army and Marine Corps provided some assistance to Mexican President Benito Juarez, later in the conflict, as the French had established a puppet regime in the Mexican capital, calling it the Second Empire of Mexico. The combined North American forces drove the French out, a short time later.

Of course, I stopped in at a downtown restaurant, the Palace, and had a lunch of street tacos, small flour tortillas, three tiers thick and stuffed with shredded pork, grilled onions and pico de gallo. The celebratory aspect of the day brings out deals on alcohol, but having long ago given up that part of my life, I found my iced tea was on the house.

Although I do enjoy a good party, it is much more meaningful to ponder the strength of common people banding together to defend their territory against a force that is seeking to dominate them, against their will. It is also crucial to consider that citizens banding together is necessary to defend against dominance by an unelected elite. Even when that elite appeals to the popular will, by presenting itself as the sole protector of national cultural values, it is still an unelected elite.

On this Cinco de Mayo, I remain ever watchful of those who present themselves as guardians of the flock, so to speak.