Category Archives: Entertainment

Expanding Home, Day 14, Part 2: Rizal

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 23, 2023, Manila- My hat came off, as soon as I came upon the jarring scene: A sculpted depiction of the execution of a nation’s hero.

As my hosts looked over at the edge of the park named in honour of the Philippines’ national hero, they somehow did not recognize the boundary with Intramuros and hailed a taxi to take us around to the west side of the park. I have made it my business not be the leader of the band, but in matters of scant consequence, to follow along.

Few matters are as consequential, however, as the attempt to silence those who love their country, their land, their fellow citizens. Jose A. Rizal, a polymath and patriot, gave his very life for the independence of the Philippine nation. He was accused-of treason to Spain, tried, found guilty, and executed, under duress, by a firing squad-of his countrymen, on December 30, 1896. Two years later, Spain lost possession of the Philippines to the United States. The American leadership, under Admiral George Dewey, assented to the proper burial of Dr. Rizal and his family was able to obtain closure.

The Philippine nation got its closure, fifty years later, when July 4, 1946 saw the birth of a unified and free archipelago. All this is commemorated, and the outcome celebrated, at Rizal Park. The sacrifice of Dr. Rizal, and countless members of his associates-both and after his killing, have brought about the ongoing emergence of a fine nation, which is the best anyone can say about any collective society of human beings.

Here are scenes of Rizal Park.

West entrance to Rizal Park, once known as Luneta.
Memorial to Dr. Jose A. Rizal
Facts in the matter of Dr. Rizal’s execution
Depiction of the execution of Dr. Rizal
The Chinese and Japanese residents of Manila each have built a garden, in their traditional styles. Here is the gateway to the Chinese Garden.
Central platform of Chinese Garden
Serenity in the Chinese Garden

The light was getting too low, by the time we came to the Japanese Garden. It made a visit impractical. That was not so, with regard to the Dancing Waters, the celebratory element of Rizal Park. For them, darkness only made things better.

Dancing Waters, sans luminee.
The show begins!
Joy rises, along with expectations.
All the players have taken the field!

This bustling day was a fine introduction to Manila proper and to the hearts of my three hosts. Most of all, it gave me an opportunity to honour Dr. Rizal. Long may his spirit guide the Filipino people forward!

Expanding Home, Day 14, Part 1: Intramuros

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Education, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 23, 2023, Manila- The four of us arrived in “Old Manila”, by taxi, and by vote of 3-0, with this one abstaining, out of being totally at a loss, we headed to Manila Cathedral. En route, we were stopped, briefly, by an elderly beggar, who ended up going on to a group of men, who gave him two boiled eggs. That is something I will always gladly do, if I have food to share. Money? Nah.

Manila Cathedral has been visited by several Popes, most recently Francis I. We found it sparsely occupied, and in need of some repairs, but worth visiting, nonetheless, because of its historical value.

The Manila Cathedral, from the east.
History of Manila Cathedral, officially the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
Friezes of the Passion of Jesus the Christ, fronted by a sculpture of Mother Mary
Interior of Manila Cathedral

Chinese merchants were allowed into Intramuros, during daylight hours. Spanish law required them to leave at sunset. One merchant left this inscription, just outside the gated heart of Intramuros.

Partial inscription at north door to Intramuros
The guided tour to the interior rooms of Intramuros is not offered on Mondays. The scene above does show the substance of this magnificent complex.
Wrought iron gate, to inner garden of Intramuros.
Peak inside a “closed” room of Intramuros
Inner garden of Intramuros
Function room at White Knight Hotel, Intramuros
Hallway of White Knight Hotel
Fern and orchid garden, Intramuros
My three kind guides, and the moss-covered well
The rainbow-stone interior of the well at Intramuros
Silver Grand Mirror, outside Barbara’s Heritage Restaurant, Intramuros
After innumerable selfies of my friends, we continued to San Agustin Church. Here is the patron of the church.
Interior of San Agustin Church, Intramuros
Sanctuary and lectern, San Agustin Church
Here are some views of the wall itself (above and following)
Atop the wall around Old Manila
The long rampart
Outside the wall
Set cannons, in wall portals
The full tableau of Spanish defenses, atop the wall.

Once we left the wall’s ramparts, it was time to pay respects to the Philippine national hero.

Expanding Home, Day 11: Observations On A Tight Neighbourhood

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 20, 2023, Paranaque- The lady busily puttered about the courtyard and small garden, seemingly unaware of anything other than what was in front of her. To me, watching from a third story window, with appreciation of her diligent work in the afternoon heat, it was reassuring. The people of this largely commercial neighbourhood still had residences scattered among the businesses, and they took care of these, with dignity and a goodly amount of pride. A humble, dignified, graceful woman was, at that point in time, the most beautiful person on Earth.

Four small boys scampered about, in and out of the parking lot, around the four restaurants, three car rental agencies, a bar and the hotel where I am staying. They split themselves up, each one stationed in front of a restaurant, steering clear of the hotel-and of the bar, where the bouncer would have gladly given them a forceful heave-ho. Some realities are understood, intuitively, even by the desperate- especially by the desperate. I sat in Pablo’s, enjoying the pipes of a group of four men who were engaged in karaoke. I was invited to join in, on the English-language songs, but spared them my croaking voice. Listening to their many tunes, in English and in Tagalog, was a splendid way to while away the evening-for me, and for the little one outside, whose nose was pressed to the window. The food was also good.

I do not give money to beggars, no matter how old or young. A few years ago, as you may recall, I tried supporting a man who I thought was an honest entrepreneur, only to have him rebuff my suggestions and up his monetary demands. Lesson learned, and cord cut. The kids are engaging, and appealing-but I know where the money ends up, and it’s not in their pockets. The minder, if he or she could even be called that, waits at a gathering point, collection bag in hand.

Here in the Manila Airport Hotel, there is a constant buzz of guests, hotel staff, cafe workers, travel agents, masseuses and car rental agents. Lines form at the hotel desk and at the cafe counter-and are diligently honoured. No one in the Philippines seems to vaunt self over those in front of the line. I have been in places where that is not the case, but in this country, there is a fair amount of decorum-even on the busy streets, few are they who throw their weight around in traffic-and they are put in their places very quickly, either by the police or by other drivers.

I like this tight little neighbourhood, and will miss it, at least a bit, when I transfer to Santa Ana, nearer to Manila Proper, next week.

Expanding Home, Day 4: Food for Thought, in the Sky

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 13, 2023, T’aipei- Today was “short”, on the ground, due to having crossed the International Date Line, while flying here from San Francisco. In reality, the energy of Friday the 13th, to me always proactive, feminine- and never unlucky, played out in full-even as the clock, here in Taiwan’s capital, said it was 5:30 a.m., Japan-Taiwan Time, on October 14.

Most of it was spent in the air, above the Pacific Ocean, between the westernmost part of Alaska, (or which the International Date Line is significantly bent to the southwest, to accommodate the Aleutian Islands, and the easternmost part of Russian Siberia), and this resilient city that maintains its Mandarin Chinese character, while keeping developmental pace with its larger sibling to the west.

I’m tired, so this will be relatively brief. It is important to note that the quality of time spent in the air is just as important to character, as time spent in active pursuits on the ground. I chose three movies to view, each of which had life lessons to impart.

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” was a sillier film than the first four, but does have a caution to impart about the consequences of unbridled ego-with the fate of a neo-Nazi “Second Fuhrer” inextricably linked, to his overaching desire to play God. Indy himself is questioned by his reconciled wife, as to whether he is “back”, emotionally and physically.

“Close”, a Belgian film about the innocent, ill-fated friendship between two adolescent boys, examines sexually-charged bullying, living one’s life through others, and the sometimes feckless behaviour of adults who befriend children and try to treat them as equals. It deals with the consequences of suicide for a community, head-on, and pulls no punches.

“The Little Things”, a recent Denzel Washington crime-solving vehicle, deals with remorse, insecurity in marriage and parenthood-especially of fathers relating to daughters, and of one or more unbridled egos,leading to the undoing of one miscreant-and maybe those of both of his nemeses.

This was the first half of my eighth trans-Pacific round trip. I spent it seated next to an intrepid, very large, woman, who is headed even further than me. As always has happened up to now, we looked out for one another-and for the flight attendants, who were always rushing about and, it seems, running into tired passengers who had to get up and move aside for one another. Oh, the joys of conflicting legitimate pursuits.

There were no bad guys on this plane-except on screen.

Three Bruces and Two Jerrys

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Entertainment, Inspiration, Social, Striving

October 6, 2023- As the band bantered, this evening at Rafter Eleven, a hand drummer joined and was promptly christened “Jerry, from a band of one two many Bruces”. The context was never explained, but it gave rise to this little story, in my head.

There were once two musically-inclined cousins, Bruce and Jerry. They grew up, close to one another, in Swarthmore, PA, home of a “Little Ivy League” college-which gave the town its name. Bruce wasn’t much of a student, in the usual sense, but he could read music from the age of 3. Jerry, on the other hand, couldn’t tell a G clef from an B sharp, but he could make his guitar sing-from the time he got it, at the age of 5. He was also a book worm, and would make up song lyrics from the things he read-having been first inspired by “Zippity doo dah”, from Walt Disney’s “Song of The South”. He kind of hit a brick wall, when trying to make songs about the Periodic Table of The Elements. That’s where a second Bruce came in. Bruce A. was a classmate of Jerry’s, having moved to Swarthmore with his family, from a small town in Alabama, called Eutaw. Coming from a family of Blues musicians, Bruce A. would sit in on the cousins’ jamming and lend his vocal talents to Jerry’s lyrics. B. A. made up his own songs about hydrogen, oxygen, and neon-and krypton, where his Blues aria about Superman had the Man of Steel tossin’ whole planets around. That brought in Bruce # 3, who was actually a girl.

Brucella Mantooth was a Choctaw girl,from “somewhere in Oklahoma; I think it starts with a T.” That turned out to be Tahlequah, where most everyone else was Cherokee. The reason the Mantooths came to Swarthmore was that B’s mom was a Professor of Native American Studies, at a time when everyone referred to the First Americans simply as “Indians”. Work opportunities for First Nations scholars were few and far between, even in Oklahoma, which used to be called Indian Territory. Swarthmore wanted to make a mark for itself, so the N.A.S. Baccalaureate and Master of Arts programs were started.

Bruce M. could play seven types of drums, from a big “powwow-type” drum to little bongos. She added a dramatic flair to the Superman songs that came from Bruce A.’s head. There were regular jams, in the back yard or garage, of one cousin or another, from the time they were all seven, until they were ten.

One day, Jerry came to a realization: There were one too many Bruces- and only one Jerry. He quietly fussed and fumed about the situation, not letting it get in the way of the band’s activities. Brucella, though, was intuitive-and determined she would find a solution to the problem, without making a big fuss. So, one day, she walked in with a new friend.

Geraldine Spector came from the city-Philly, and not just from anywhere, but from Old City. She was from an old time rock and roll/rhythm and blues family-her uncle invented the “Wall of Sound”, but Jerry was into country music, of all things. It started when she was learning to ride horses, first English style, then Western. With the latter style came a fascination with cowboys, and their music. When Jerry met Bruce M., at a mini-rodeo, the tapes played by Brucella’s Dad in his truck, left the slightly older girl hooked on the genre. The two girls, a year apart in age, became inseparable, and so, the band got its second singer, who could also play a mean keyboard.

As ten and eleven became thirteen and fourteen, the kids’ voices changed, there was a hiatus for that sort of discomfort to pass, and then the group took off again-being a staple at local high school dances-and small music festivals around Philadelphia. They came up with a dance, “Philly Dog”, which got cachet when mentioned in the hit song, “Land of A Thousand Dances”. They did soaring, rock-opera type songs, twangy country tunes about love and loss-and to placate Jerry S’s family, some covers of her aunt’s girl band classics.

There was still one little burr in the saddle: One two many Bruces.

(DISCLAIMER: Any relationship between the characters in this story and real people is purely coincidental.)

Fourth Quarter- Frost, Frolics and Fastidiousness

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 1, 2023- The air is supposed to be chill, tonight and tomorrow, followed, later in the week, by a few days of AUG-tober. Then the silly weather will subside, and we may expect that Home Base-Prescott, and hereabouts, will have a more conventional tenth month.

I will be at work, all week, helping two special needs children at a nearby elementary school. There will be other events awaiting in the evenings: Ecstatic dance (online), which I can join for an hour or so; a Healing Devotional; a Red Cross meeting; the tail-end of a Study Circle that I have been facilitating; and another early evening devotional. Saturday will see a Harvest Festival, as well as regular service activities.

Then comes the fourth journey of 2023- The Philippines, by way of California and Taiwan. More details will be shared, as the sojourn unfolds. Long story short, it will dominate October, and take me away from service activities here. This bothers some people, but my life has been about following messages from my spirit guides. Sometimes, that has meant staying in one place and being fastidious in meeting the needs of a few. Since 2011, though, it has meant being willing to go to certain places, connect with specific people and perform designated functions, from running Red Cross shelters here and there, to keeping children safe on Halloween, serving dinner to homeless people and sponsoring a child or two, in disadvantaged communities.

One such youth will be a focus of my time in the Philippines. Faith-based activities will take up much of the rest of my time there. My biggest hope is that a bond between Prescott and those blessed islands may be forged.

November and December will bring more work around here, holidays spent with family(Thanksgiving) and friends (Christmas and New Year’s) and another trip around the Sun completed. The Fourth Quarter is never dull-stay tuned.

Wildness and Woolery

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

September 30, 2023- The duo paid no mind to the wind that, off and on, gusted through the patio and blew a paper, a napkin or a ball cap away from its owner. The Bourbon Knights, at least the two remaining members, were too busy cranking out solid, vintage rock, to pay attention to such a mundane phenom as wind.

Their preference was playing the classic tunes of The Who, and when they got into the late riffs on “Baba O’Riley”, I half expected to see one of them break into an imitation of Pete Townshend’s Kazotsky kick. Alas, too much of their signature drink had found its way down their gullets, and they were content with their musical offerings, which remained solid. They also ranged from Stevie Nicks to Tom Petty.

This was the wild part of the evening at Rafter Eleven, where I went to close out the bittersweet month of September. Today would have been Penny’s 69th birthday, and true to form, not only one, but two Baha’i events got my attention, back to back. The Worldwide Celebration of Unity, of which I have written before, has taken its place in my Saturday morning routine. Only when I am not in a place where WiFi is accessible, do I beg off the task of co-hosting. The other event, which followed straightaway, was the annual Unit Convention, where Baha’is living in a designated area meet to elect a delegate to the National Convention, set for the following Spring, and consult about issues of import to the region and to the national community. I feel fortunate that the first event was able to be held at the Convention site, courtesy of the electoral tellers, who let me use their meeting room. Penny’s spirit, and my other ethereal guides, see to it that what needs to be done, finds a way.

A woolery is a place where the heavy cloth may be spun, carded and woven into the heavy cloth that is so comforting in cold weather. Our spiritual woolery is the Source of the guidance that comes from following those Spiritual Teachings that afford us protection, in the cold of challenges, tests and setbacks that are so commonly experienced in this life. So it was, both physically and emotionally chilly, at different times today, giving me reason to wear a woolen jacket, given me as a thank-you, by a once homeless man, who I helped for a time, nine years ago-and to seek solace in the Teachings of Baha’u’llah, when feeling the annoyance of people I normally help on Saturdays, who were left on their own today.

The day, and the month, ended well though. Even the country got a breather, from the political clashes that have played out, these past several weeks.

Here, for the curious, are The Who, and “Baba O’Riley”, though sans Kazotsky.

The Tight Little Circle

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Posted by on in Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

September 24, 2023- As I placed my portable chair down, amongst strangers, at this afternoon’s Peacebuilders concert, a pair of familiar faces zoomed past me, delighting in the warmth of an early autumn afternoon. The little boy, in an open shirt, with a smile as wide as the Atlantic, shrieked in delight, whilst his slightly older sister, in a proper full-length dress, was looking more towards re-joining her newborn brother on the family’s blanket. They didn’t recognize me, though somehow, their toddler sister did; it’s been almost two years since we’ve seen each other.

I have always been drawn to loving families, but they have not always been drawn to me. The brood in question is of a couple who are welcoming of older people, on occasion, but are very suspicious and formal, much of the time. We quietly drifted apart, two years back, and this was the first time I’d seen them all together, along with the children’s equally reticent nanny, since the last time I was at their residence. At that time, there was nothing to indicate I’d offended them, in any way. The distancing was just one of those happenstances that come about, for God knows what.

The gathering itself had the energy of “You came alone, so sit alone”. I broke free of that barrier, towards the end of the concert, and bounced, sore toe and all, to a lively German polka-offered by a group who are themselves very much welcoming to all who attend. Basically, though, New Age people here are a rather reticent, tight-knit tribe, perhaps because they find themselves surrounded by Cowboy Culture and a machismo that would deny free-thinkers their due. It takes almost as much energy to make friends among neo-Hippies as it did befriending people in small-town Maine. When one goes away for a time and comes back, as I do, it’s almost necessary to start all over again.

I will nonetheless keep showing up at community events, and performances at The Raven or Elks Theater, and let the New Agers’ energy flow, as it will. Sooner or later, the hermetic circle will melt, of its own. They will see that I mean them no harm.

Humanity Isn’t Minimized

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 23, 2023- In August, 1974, a family visiting from Montreal had taken a cabin at a resort, in western Maine, where I was working for the summer. A fire was built in the hearth, then thinking that it would be secure and burn itself out-in the hearth, the family went to bed. At 2 a.m., the older daughter, 13, smelled smoke and got her parents and sister up and out of the cabin. I was one of the volunteer firefighters who did the best we could to extinguish the fire-and did keep it from spreading. Many of the other crew members were year-round residents of the village. Their own homes would have been at serious risk, in short order, had the blaze spread.

Tusayan is a small town, of about 6,000 people, most of whom work in service industries connected to Grand Canyon National Park’s South Rim. There are also those who serve the servers: The Coconino County Sheriff’s Substation, the Grand Canyon Unified School District and the Town of Tusayan’s government.

Yesterday, much of the town’s populace, and many visitors, were evacuated, due to unusual flash floods. While clean-up will take time, and there is an ongoing threat of more rain, through Friday, the main road-AZ Highway 64, has been re-opened, from the South Rim’s entrance to Williams. The eastern section, from the entrance to Cameron, did not need to be closed, though in taking that road last night, due to a commitment at a school in Prescott, today, I noticed that a severe hail storm had struck the eastern part of South Rim, earlier in the afternoon.

This is yet another in a series of wake-up calls for the tourism industry, and for travelers in general, that the places being visited are inhabited by people who are essentially the same as those who have left their homes to take a rest, be served or to just enjoy a change of pace from home sweet home. Lahaina is the largest, and worst, such tragedy, in a series spanning several years. Gatlinburg, Big Sur, Talkeetna and dozens of small forest encampments all over the continent-and across the globe, have seen fire and flood drive those involved in hospitality lose house and home.

There are many reactions to a tragedy in a vacation-oriented area, as I discussed last week. It has been reported that at least one tourist raged about his dinner reservation being canceled by the Lahaina fire’s burning down the restaurant. We are all on a journey away from self, and towards seeing “all humanity created from the same stock”, as Baha’u’llah wrote in a prayer, 150 years ago. Some of us have, in all sincerity and from a place of generosity, gone to the suffering area and purchased a vacation package, thinking that THIS is the way to help the people in the afflicted community know that the world stands with them. Others have sent large supplies of goods, often without checking as to what is actually needed. These are good-hearted people, who have just not taken the time to hear from the victims themselves, or from their spokespeople. Thus, some want to go to Maui, anyway. Others will go to Tusayan, and expect that business as usual has resumed, because the highway is open. The clean-up will continue, for some time.

Humanity isn’t minimized by where someone lives, or by which economic group they occupy. Yes, paying for a service does mean that one gets a product for one’s money. It is also true, in this age when nearly every place on Earth has something of interest to offer, that we are all both visitors and visited, servers and served.

I find that it is the deep connecting with those who live in a community, that makes visiting the locale worthwhile in the first place.

An Eclectic Gathering

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 12, 2023, Lake Havasu City- The ebullient young man practically burst through the front door, carrying his crock pot full of macaroni with three cheeses-his contribution to the festive birthday gathering. I took a spoonful and can attest that it is among the best “mac and cheese” I’ve ever had, and told him so, which made his effusiveness that much keener.

I came to this city that exists almost in isolation from the rest of Arizona, with wilderness as its California neighbour, to attend a friend’s 31st birthday. Arriving at 6 p.m. made the most sense, given the two activities to which I needed to attend earlier, back in Prescott. It also made sense, temperature wise: Lake Havasu City sits squarely in the western sector of the Sonoran Desert, and temperatures here have hit close to 120 F-as recently as last month. It was 102, when I arrived at the party site, where I am also spending the night.

I knew only three people, the birthday celebrant and his father, who live at the party location, and a friend from Bullhead City, 1 1/2 hours north northwest of here, when I first arrived. I still would characterize most of the rest of the crowd as pleasant acquaintances, as I came to know very little about them, but this does rank among the most convivial of gatherings, in recent memory. The conversations ranged from Lahaina- on nearly everyone’s mind, these days, to a guest’s unusual medical condition and another guest’s recent loss of a loved one. The common thread, though, was the deep concern people have for one another. No one who expressed a personal issue or health concern had it glossed over, by the group.

Here were several workers from the local hospice, stay-at-home mothers, teachers, gym attendants, an architect, two high school students, a retired surfer, a deep sea fisherman (also retired, given the fact that the water here is in a fresh-water lake, and it’s a long way to his former haunts in Sitka, AK) and a couple of ten-year old boys, who were mostly focused on the video game that was on the wide screen in front of them. The high schoolers were the mac and cheese chef and his girlfriend, who served delectable soft chocolate chip cookies. “She’s a fabulous baker!”, boyfriend proudly crowed. I would agree that that the two of them have a fine future ahead, in the culinary arts.

So went the evening, and one of my rare summer forays into the Sonoran realm. With reliable air conditioning, in both Sportage and this house, being out in the warm desert evening air was actually pleasant. Tomorrow, I will stay here long enough to host a late-morning Zoom call, then head back towards Home Base, and stay tuned for what the week shall bring.