The Road to Diamond, Day 156: Heroes, Super and Otherwise

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May 3, 2025, Phoenix- The comforter on the bed I am borrowing for the evening is Superhero-themed. I am now safe from anything that could threaten the well-being of a six-year-old boy. Since he’s away, this seventy-four-year-old, overgrown kid can expect the same. Monsters and villains, be gone!

Heroes, in real life, come in many shapes, sizes and guises. The people who seem to stand in our way, and keep us from what what we think we might want, will sometimes turn out to be our best friends-and unlikely heroes in our lives. Remember the tale of Majnoon, searching for his beloved Layli (Layla, of the Eric Clapton song). His path was blocked by one or another watchman, until he vaulted himself over a wall-and found her looking fr a ring she had lost.

Heroes can be full of bravado, or they can be ordinary people (as in the Dave Grohl song). They can be constantly in action, in the limelight or just be around-for one day (as in the David Bowie song). Yes, we have been celebrating our deliverers and saviors from time immemorial. From the Epic of Gilgamesh, to the Iliad and Odyssey, the Tales of Hiawatha, Icelandic sagas and stories of the Samurai, all the way to the Marvel and DC characters, we derive much comfort in the idea that someone has our backs.

It is best, though, that we are our own, and one another’s champions. Acting in the interests of each person in our world-starting with ourselves, but not stopping there, can be challenging. The alternative, though, is to let someone else determine the entirety of our existence. That may seem easier, but recall the fates of those who acquiesced to tyrants, throughout history. Were they happier, in the fullness of time? Were their needs met?

Today, in conference with many of my fellow Baha’is, at the Center where Penny and I spent many happy hours, in the often troubled 2000s, I was reminded that “heroism” is hard work and that it is often not intentional, but the result of just putting oneself out there, on behalf of humanity-and of all creation. It most often involves teamwork, and always involves discernment and fortitude.

After our long day of consultation, my host and I joined several old friends, and many youth, in honouring a hard-working college graduate. It was a joy to see people I haven’t seen in fifteen years and to witness how several of them have grown from childhood and become successful adults, in various fields.

Heroes-some of them “super” come in all forms.

The Road to Diamond, Day 134: Twin Greetings and A Little Victory

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April 11, 2025- Macy’s European Coffee Shop, a cornerstone of Flagstaff’s Near South Side, was quieter than usual, in late morning. I was pleased that the shop’s owner, Tim Macy, was present and able to meet Bobot and Thelma. They enjoyed-we enjoyed-a light breakfast and fine coffee. Under ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s watchful gaze, a spiritual bond between America and the Philippines extended to Flagstaff.

Eyes of the Master
Bobot, Thelma and the Master
Macy's European Coffee House 2
Bobot and Thelma in front of Macy’s

The next stop was a persistent and generous pool: Montezuma Well remains the repository of a spring-fed stream, holding its own, despite an infusion of algae, along its rim. A limestone sinkhole that receives 1,500,000 gallons of water a day from the spring, it was a source of sustenance for the Southern Sinagua people, in the first millennium A.D./C.E., and is a source of inspiration for the people of the Upper Verde Valley today.

Montezuma's Well
Rim of Montezuma’s Well

What was sweetest about this visit is that, for the second day in a row, Thelma overcame her acrophobia and approached the rim, then walked down a flight of stone steps to the closest approach still available to the source spring. The counselor in me still celebrates people overcoming their fears.

MZW 2
Thelma and Bobot near the source of Montezuma Well

Our small celebration of this step forward came at another of my favourite spots: Rafter Eleven. I have been going there, pretty much since Dawn Wasowicz opened the establishment. Dawn has developed the restaurant and tasting room, as a venue for local artists and a community gathering place, over the past eleven years. She was also pleased to meet my two friends and they found the ambiance-and their scones, quite pleasing as well.

A brief shopping trip (for Bobot) ended their last full day in northern Arizona. Tomorrow, we will stop at Farmers Market and Zeke’s, then head south, to Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, and back up to Phoenix, where I will bid my friends farewell, and they will enjoy some extended family time, before leaving for other parts of the U.S.

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The Road to Diamond, Day 133: Mather Point

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April 10, 2025, Williams, AZ- There is no one way to see the Grand Canyon. I have walked much of the Rim Trail, stood at high points with sheer drop-offs of 3,000 feet, hiked to the Colorado River and back,on the same day and in summer heat and visited ancillary spots, like the Confluence with the Little Colorado River or Havasupai Falls. I have taken meals in El Tovar Hotel’s dining room (with Penny and my parents) and eaten a grab and go sandwich at Hermit’s Rest snack bar. It is all what makes this place so indelible in the mind of anyone who has ever stood in The House of Stone and Light.

My visiting friends had never seen anything quite like the Grand Canyon. When we stood at Mather Point, in the noon transition, the sun was high overhead and they had to position themselves carefully, so as not to be photographed in shadow, as happened yesterday in Sedona’s Tlaquepaque. They were awestruck, for several minutes. Then they looked right and left,, and decided that walking in the relative heat would not reveal anything different from what they were already seeing. They asked to head back to the car.

This is what they saw.

Mather Point 1
First view of the Grand Canyon
Mather Point 2
Staying close, at Canyon’s edge

There is a unique collection of sandstone rocks, arranged at the approach to Mather. One of these is a menhir, evocative of Carnac or Stonehenge.

Mather's menhir
Bobot and Thelma meet a Standing Stone

It was lunch time, and being frugal sorts, my friends vetoed any meals in the Park itself. We opted for the simply-titled We Cook Pizza and Pasta, in nearby Tusayan, and shared a Classic Cheese pizza. It’s been a long time since I have actually enjoyed pizza with nothing more than cheese and tomato sauce. Simple was exquisite.

The day was not spent, so I took Bobot and Thelma to Bearizona, a park that lets people view wildlife, including apex predators, from their cars. The wolves and bears did not disappoint. There were also herbivores aplenty-mountain goats, bighorn sheep, deer, elk, reindeer and bison. None of these are prey for their neighbours, who are fed meat provided by the staff. Here are some that we saw, carside.

Bearizona 1
Bearizona’s reindeer

The wolves were curious, but laid back.

Bearizona 2
Curious Lobo
Bearizona 3
Tundra wolf trio

Next, it was the black bears’ turn.

Bearizona 4
Black bears at rest
Bearizona 5
Bathing bruin

The Grizzlies have their own place, well-removed from the road.

Bearizona 6
Grizzly bears at dinner time

Our dinner time came later, as I had a business matter in the interim. No worries-Goldie’s Diner was open until 9, so we ate lightly but well. This week, like most weeks, has been a whirlwind, and time well spent.

The Road to Diamond, Day 132: Red Rock Road

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April 9, 2025, Williams, AZ- The perfect spot, where my friends have stayed for the past two nights, is going to be perfect for another couple this weekend. I have found another Friday night room for Bobot and Thelma, so all is still well.

We headed east and north, this afternoon, after a hearty lunch at Pangaea Bakery. The first stop would have been Jerome, but parking was not available, so Tuzigoot became our spot to try out my camera’s record feature-and my video skills. They need work, to say the least, but here are a couple of fairly post-worthy clips.

Friends enjoying their first visit to Tuzigoot.
This shows the living situation of First Nations people in the Verde River Valley of Arizona, in the Eleventh Century, AD.
The Sinagua people built these units, as part of a settled community.

After exploring Tuzigoot, we headed to the Chapel of the Holy Cross, high in Sedona’s red rocks, at the edge of Schnebly Hill. Here are my friends, at the Peace Marker and in front of the chapel.

Red Rock day trip
Bobot and Thelma at Peace Marker
Front of Chapel of the Holy Cross
Bobot and Thelma in front of Chapel

We made a brief visit to the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park, near Sugarloaf Mountain, on Sedona’s north side. My videography was not suitable for sharing, but the friends seemed to enjoy it.

We capped our Sedona visit with a stop at Tlaquepaque, a crafts and restaurant market, modeled after the open air market of the same name, that graces Guadalajara, Jalisco.

The entry arch at Tlaquepaque
Bobot and Thelma in front of entry arch

As we walked in, a little girl had latched onto a sandal, and was doing her 16-month-old best to show Mom and Grandma that she had mastered the One Shoe Strut. Since it was a display item at a shoe vendor, Mom took it off and put it back on the rack. Oh, the indignity of it all!

We met up with an amalgam of other Filipinos, in front of a coffee and ice cream shop, where I got an Arnold Palmer and the friends, some Gator Aid. We next visited a couple of fountains, and stopped in front of Bell Rock, after which it was time to head out of Sedona, and up the mountain, by way of I-17.

Fountain shot
Bobot and Thelma at a fountain in Tlaquepaque
Bell Rock
Bobot and Thelma at Courthouse Rock, with Bell Rock as backdrop

After a satisfying dinner at My Pita Wrap, in one of South Milton Road’s plethora of mini-malls, we headed here, to the Gateway to the Grand Canyon, and El Rancho Motel-our roost for these two nights. Tomorrow, another couple will be introduced to the South Rim!

The Road to Diamond, Day 130: To Las Vegas and Back

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April 7, 2025- It is always humbling to stop at Delgadillo’s Snow Cap, in Seligman. No one is watching, when one tries the doors with knobs on each side. No spoilers, though; each person gets to learn which knob works, on one’s own. Any place where the servers emulate the grandfather on “Courage, The Cowardly Dog” and pretend to squirt mustard out of a ketchup bottle, can’t be half bad. The food is worth the stop, at any rate.

Snow Cap was a nice break for my visitors and me, on the way back from Las Vegas. They had flown there, from Manila, by way of Incheon, about a week ago. After a week of visiting the Las Vegas Strip and Mount Charleston, Bobot and Thelma are spending a week with me, touring a few places around Arizona. I made the drive up to the Sleepless City, from Kingman, early this morning and found them ready to roll.

We stopped, briefly, at Hoover Dam, for a look from the O’Callaghan-Tillman Bridge, which unites Arizona and Nevada, honouring two men who are held in high regard, by their fellow citizens. Mike O’Callaghan was a highly popular Governor of Nevada, in the 1970s. Pat Tillman was a talented football player with the Arizona Cardinals, who enlisted in the U. S. Army, following the attacks on the United States, of September 11, 2001. He gave his life, in the Afghanistan conflict, in 2004.

The Snow Cap stop came about an hour after we enjoyed a humongous and delicious lunch at Kingman’s Black Bear Diner. Let it be known that the Taco Salad at Black Bear will feed three people, with about 1/4 left to be boxed and eaten later. I don’t know about my friends, as they are staying at a Bed & Breakfast, across town, but I had no need of dinner tonight.

Here are some photos of the day’s festivities.

Bobot and Thelma flank their hosts, in Las Vegas.
Bobot on the Bridge, above Hoover Dam
Thelma not making a call, Snow Cap, Seligman
Ready for a ride in the White Jeep, Snow Cap, Seligman

This should be a fun week!

The Road to Diamond, Day 121: King Lear, et al.

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March 29, 2025- The rowdy group of revelers burst into the theater-in-the-round, the jester carrying his king on his back, whilst the merry palace guardsmen jump about, yelling “Ha! Ho!”. The scene reminded me, for all the world, of a few such episodes of the last Presidential campaign, though no one would ferret our current Chief Executive on his back.

Basin Lake Theater Project is a new troupe in Prescott, whose maiden performance came tonight, at the newly re-opened Cosmos Theater. King Lear, their first effort, touched all the bases: The conniving of his two older daughters, Goneril and Regan; the plotting of their spouses, the Dukes of Albany and Cornwall, respectively; the plain-spoken sincerity of his youngest daughter, Cordelia; Lear’s deep insecurity, which led him to embrace the plotters’ expressions of fealty and reject Cordelia for her honesty; the unbroken loyalty of the Earl of Gloucester, his aide-de-camp; the ill-concealed ambition of Gloucester’s bastard son, Edmund, contrasting with the filial piety of his high-born son, Edgar. Most of all, Frank Malle, as Lear, nailed the sovereign’s bursts of rage and his descent into madness.

I sat spellbound through the two halves of the play, and found myself thinking afterward, “Are there truly parallels between the fictional Lear, a tenth-century King of Britain, and the sitting President of the United States-or, for that matter, his immediate predecessor?” There is no obvious insanity, in our current leadership, yet we are in a period in which rulers have been exhibiting a thin skin, and not just in the United States of America. There is a naked ambition, on the part of several of the presidential advisors, both in and out of government. Some members of the presidential family seek more leverage, though unlike the Family Lear (ostensibly members of House Plantagenet), there is no obvious rivalry between the children, nor does the president show favouritism for one over the others. Lear does go off on tangents, talking about the horns of snails and the cultivation of oysters, much as Trump talks about birds and whales. The above-mentioned scene evoked the impromptu dancing that Trump has done, either solo or accompanied by random visiting athletes.

All these instances, though, are not connected to actions of substance, in and of themselves. Lear does not seem to have any connection to his subjects, outside of the court itself and a small number of hangers-on. Trump regularly connects with at least his most fervent supporters, outside of Official Washington, as did Biden. That may neutralize any ambition among his inner circle, providing an unlikely safeguard for our republic, in the long run. While some of his Cabinet may invite parallels to Lear’s Fool, there is yet no one who can get away with criticizing the President-at least not openly, as the Fool does with Lear.

In the long run, it is never in the interests of a people to have their ruler descend into madness. In my lifetime, we have seen what happened in the Soviet Union, when Stalin lost his grip on reality,as well as in China, as Mao fell into senescence. The 25th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution is in place, to obviate such a situation here. Let us hope that its application does not become necessary, in the near future, if ever.

The Road to Diamond, Day 117: Genres

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March 25, 2025- There it was, placed proudly on the choir room wall: Periodic Table of Music Genres, an outgrowth of the famous chemistry table. It reflects the steady growth in both the sharing of musical styles across national and cultural boundaries, as well as the fusion of those styles.

In my childhood days, it was viewed by many as a travesty to mix say, jazz with classical or country music. Duke Ellington and several others interpreted even the oldest of classical music, anyway. It is something that I have come to appreciate, as an adult. The great Big Band musicians redid orchestral classics, even Baroque, with grace and style. Today, every genre can be interpreted by every other genre, and many can be fused with others.

My task today was simply to monitor the guitar and choral classes, making sure they actually practiced their pieces. While getting teens to practice can be a chore in itself, most of the students spent thirty minutes, at least, either in groups or individual work. When given the choice of pieces, they showed quite a range of interests-from Heavy Metal to Country; Grunge to World Music.

Here is a compendium of musical genres, by style and by region. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_music_genres_and_styles. In order to illustrate, here are two very different types of musical expression:

Rosa Lee Hill was a Mississippi Hill Country Blues musician. Here she is doing “Roll and Tumble”, in 1967, a year before her death. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_asE8v-Ls60

Next is Indonesian musician Rahayu Supanggah, leading a troupe in Gamelan, a traditional music genre of the Malay Archipelago. (Don’t worry about the “waitress”; just click on the video and enjoy the gamelan.

There is no place on Earth where people have not found a way to express themselves musically. A student reminded me, this morning, that it all originated in people mimicking birds, other land animals and even whales, in some places. Music has come a long way.

The Road to Diamond, Day 116: George Foreman

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March 24, 2025- In the early ’70s, watching heavyweight boxing championships was on par with watching professional baseball or hockey. It was always a group event, mostly involving men. Part of it was about demonstrations of power, but the replays, sometimes 4 or 5, were about noticing finesse. Muhammad Ali’s body English was the most watched, and re-watched. Later on, there was a group that was drawn to Leon Spinks. For sheer longevity, and evolution of class, though, no one outdid George Foreman.

George came out of east Texas, and the Fifth Ward of Houston. In both environments, he learned the way of the fist-starting off as a mugger, then being steered into boxing. He would become the titan of the 1968 U.S. Olympic Boxing squad, bringing home the Gold Medal and being welcomed into the White House, even as his main competitor, Cassius Clay, was irritating the government with his objections to the Vietnam War. Cassius, of course, embraced Islam and became Muhammad Ali. He and George would fight for the World Heavyweight Championship, and in 1974, George found himself worn to a frazzle by Ali’s antics, including the “Rope a Dope” maneuver of allowing George to push him to the ropes, then rest a bit and come out swinging. George had given Joe Frazier his first loss, a year earlier, thus becoming World Heavyweight Champion. In the “Rumble in the Jungle”, though, Muhammad came out on top.

George, bruised but not beaten, showed the world that “Forty is not a death sentence” and would continue to box professionally, in between serving as an ordained minister and as pitchman for his line of barbecue grills, until 1997. He sired twelve children, by five wives, naming each of his five sons George. This was his way, he said, of leaving a piece of himself for posterity.

He died on Friday, March 21, at the age of 76. His namesakes-and grills- aside, though, George Foreman will long live in the memory bank of anyone who grew up between 1965-87. He lived larger than his boxing skill set and more intensely than his religious fervour. May George be at peace, in the arms of his Lord.

The Road to Diamond, Day 113: Playfulness

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Tom Petty, Harry Chapin and Rivers Cuomo shared the stage tonight, at The Raven Cafe, or so it seemed. The three musicians who were on stage evoked those men, in style-and somewhat in voice and appearance. They played and sang under the watchful poster eyes of Carlos Santana, The Who and Twenty One Pilots. It was a satisfying evening, of both playfulness and angst. The Rivers look-alike offered light-hearted tunes about an elfin girlfriend and living out of his car, juxtaposed with a darker tune about the latter situation. “Tom” sang of being occasionally bereft of spirit and of drinking on St. Patrick’s Day. “Harry” was mainly focused on his courtship and love for his wife.

It was a fine cap to a playful day. The morning brought me back to Bear and Dragon, this time for a French omelet, that was everything such fare should be-light and fluffy, complemented by a couple of English bangers and a pair of potato galettes. My seat was at the counter, shared with the cafe’s owner, who bantered a bit, in between his business calls. Bernie, the barista, tended well to my coffee and water needs.

Next up, in the afternoon, was a revisit to Arcosanti, the experimental community that lies an hour east of Prescott. I went there to get a couple of photos to send Kathy, in advance of our friends’ visit to Arizona, the second week of April. I also wanted to walk a bit on the Visitors Trail, that leads to the base of a small mesa, on the south side of the property. Before that, I took a short break in the laid-back cafe, enjoying a matcha latte. One of the attendants had a confession to make: His matcha lattes had used 2. 5 ounces of the powder. Fortunately, his co-worker fixed mine, with a more suitable 2 teasspoons of matcha. I read somewhere that there is a shortage of matcha in Japan. Maybe overzealous baristas in the U.S. are part of the reason for that.

Such was a light-hearted day, the first of Spring.

The Road to Diamond, Day 103: Crowded Houses

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March 11, 2025, San Diego- Samesun Hostel, Ocean Beach makes the most of its back deck, when it is sunny. Today was not a sunny day-and the forecast is for rain tomorrow through Friday, as well. That renders the back deck a place of comfort only for the few human seals who don’t mind sitting under an umbrella. The rest of us either stayed in our rooms or crammed into the kitchen and TV/Game Room. I did a little of both, hanging out with a few hostelers in the latter spot, and tending to business matters in my private room on the second floor.

I visited a couple of other spots in OB during the day. In between rain showers, I took a mid-morning snack at OB Beans, one of the better coffee shop/bakeries on Newport Avenue. It was a full house there. Lunch time found me at Hodad’s, which advertises its fare as “the world’s best burgers.” I have to say, the Blue Jay (1/2 pounder with bacon, fried onions and bleu cheese) was one of the best I’ve had, right up there with the beef at Chuckbox, in Tempe or one of the more heartfelt renditions at a Five Guys in the Dallas area. The standout at Hodad’s, however, is its ambiance. There was barely enough room for the servers to move between tables, but everyone was having a great time. As the name suggests, the place is surfing-themed, with boogie boards hung in strategic places around the shop. Long tables take up the mid-section and there is a “photo-op” cabana type table for two, towards the front. A few couples took advantage of that, for selfies, while I was seated nearby.

All this makes rainy days in Ocean Beach nearly as enjoyable as the sun-drenched versions. It’s all in how one views the camaraderie.