Chili vs. Chilly

4

February 11, 2020-

Besides my regimen of essential oils, hemp-based CBD cream, hot tea and plenty of rest, there is another element that knocks the wind out of the ailments brought on by rapidly fluctuating temperatures:  Chili peppers.

As it happens, Taco Tuesday often finds me at Taco Don’s, a Mom and Pop Mexican food establishment, which I favour over other such places in town.  The salsa is made in house, so I can count on getting “Hot”, when I ask for it.

Any chili salsa is good for safeguarding health, and if one is up for it, eating the raw peppers is even better.  I’m more the salsa-type person, so loading up on it, with tonight’s dinner, seems to have prevented any recurrence of whatever it was that kept me at a low energy level on Sunday.

Every culture has its cold and flu remedy.  I’ve heard good things about sauerkraut, borscht and pepperoncini.  I know that kimchi and Indian-style curry do the trick.  Chili peppers, though, are what are most common here, and they have kept any illness I’ve encountered, short and bittersweet.

So, with a full regimen of healthy products, I was able to get some things done yesterday, and worked a complete day, today.  The rest of the week should feel more normal, as well.

Places of Which I Don’t Speak Much

8

February 10, 2020-

I kept myself home today, for good measure.

Yesterday was touch and go,

and I made it to the two obligatory gatherings,

being careful not to get too close to anyone,

lest what I felt was coming on,

was transferable.

I don’t speak of illness, much.

This is because it rarely comes calling.

Oregano, and a day of rest,

have knocked it out of me.

Illness is a state of being,

of which I rarely need speak.

Mount Chocorua was the first real peak,

I ever climbed.

I was grateful to my father,

for taking me there,

a uniquely satisfying climb,

that was distorted by a few moments

of diffuse anger,

back at the tent site.

When I had to deal with the same,

as a father, years later,

I knew what to do,

and let the boy work out his feelings.

Long Binh,

the only place where I ever felt

my life was in danger,

was also where I had to stand up

for myself.

So I did, and no harm came.

I may very well return to Viet Nam,

in a couple of years,

but I will leave Long Binh alone.

Hannibal saw me when I was

in a very raw state.

I was not allowed to write freely.

I was refused use of a computer.

Hannibal did not seem kind,

but someday, I will give

Hannibal a second look.

There are many places,

of which I don’t speak much.

 

Safeguarding One Another

6

February 9, 2020-

An older actor, Orson Bean, was struck by two cars, two days ago, as he walked to a community theater, near his home in Venice, CA.  I’ve been to Venice, a couple of times, most recently last November.  There are a number of homeless people living along Venice Boulevard, both north and south, and in a few pockets close to the beach.

Mr. Bean was not homeless, nor did he appear to suffer from dementia.  He was consciously walking to meet his wife, at the theater.  He was also looking forward to the showing of a play, in which he was involved, at the same theater.  He was following a Venice practice, of crossing the road at its most convenient spot-away from the crosswalk.  I daresay that is a rather widespread phenomenon, worldwide. It can work, on occasion, if drivers notice the pedestrian in time, but it is never inherently safe.

The larger issue here is, to what extent are we each other’s keepers?  I have stated, and maintain, that one cannot regard others as mere extensions of self.  The world is full of homeless people, dysfunctional families, troubled schools, fractured environment.  No one can resolve even one of these, in and of him/herself, but try we do, and must.

There are, as the death of Orson Bean underscores, more common occurrences, to which we can contribute mightily.  Los Angeles, of which Venice is a part, has an initiative to curb traffic-related deaths.  Phoenix, which is not all that far from here, has many of the same issues, relative to motor vehicle-pedestrian collisions.  Other cities are certainly in the same situation.  For any initiative to work, behavioural change has to be enacted-and before that, must come an attitudinal adjustment.

It would seem, then, that the mindset of consciously looking out for our fellows, continuously, daily, until it becomes second nature, will drastically curb much of the mayhem that brings grief to so many-unnecessarily.  It can’t just be of the New Year’s resolution variety.  It must become ingrained.

 

 

 

Labour of Love

10

February 7, 2020- 

With a sneer, the self-styled “chief paraprofessional” took issue with my enunciating the first ‘r’ in “February”.  “It’s Feb-YOO-ery.  Learn to speak AMERICAN English”.  With that, all pretense, that the particular school was operating about the welfare of children, went out the window. I left not long afterward.

Many work environments, throughout the world, have taken to minimizing their stated mission, in favour of preserving some sort of falsehood-based alternate agenda, centered on the ego gratification of a certain few.  Ignorance is, then,  more than bliss.  It becomes the soft ground, on which pseudo-institutions are built, and on which they thrive.

There is a strong team of professionals, struggling to save, and rebuild, a school in which I was honoured to have spent time, not too long ago.  What they face is a three-generational climate of self-loathing and learned helplessness.  That some of these professionals have been there for nearly five years, speaks to the strength of the human heart; to the indomitable essence of the human spirit.

I have been an educator for 44 years.  While there are people whom I will admit to having failed, the vast majority have been helped, by the teams of which I was an active part.  The key has always been to love the child, to not give up-ever, to build the patience needed to counter the worst of defeatism.  As I go about northern Arizona, in this, my last calendar year of being a full-time educator, that mindset has not diminished.

Even after retiring, my battle, with ignorance and antipathy towards children and youth, will remain my cornerstone.

Is It Slumber?

4

February 6, 2020-

What is it, when we watch and listen,

seeing and hearing only what confirms

the sights and sounds of our own private silo?

What is it, when a child cries out for help,

and those around just say,

“That’s the way it’s always been, here”.

What is it, when one follows the path of least resistance,

with a self-directed message,

that comfort has been earned.

Is it living to fight another day?

Is it being prudent?

Is it emotional triage?

Or, is it slumber?

The Ongoing Story

4

February 4, 2020-

As is my wont, I watched the State of the Union Address, and part of the “opposition response”.  I paid close attention to what was said, to the enthusiasm of the speakers’ supporters and to the reactions of the speakers’ critics.

President Trump’s speech was fairly good on specifics, with regard to what he considers his administration’s accomplishments and bullish on what he sees ahead-should he be re-elected.  There were fine moments: Carl and Marsha Mueller, from Prescott, honoured in the sacrifice of their daughter to the IS mayhem; Rush Limbaugh, with whom I often disagree, but who has been generous to the people of the Midwest and who is now in the fight of his life, against cancer, receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom; the mother and children from North Carolina, re-united with their soldier husband and father; the young man from here in Arizona, honoured for his interest in space exploration, alongside his great grandfather, a Tuskegee Airman,  who himself was promoted to Brigadier General, earlier in the day.  General McGee is 100 years of age.

There was also the hubris, which has been associated with this President, but has also been expressed by several of his predecessors, in their own detailing of accomplishments.  In the end, though, Donald Trump shared a thought with which few can realistically argue:  “America’s best days are yet to come.”  In truth, mankind’s best days are yet to come.

Both speakers, (Governor Whitmer, of Michigan, being the respondent), appealed to our sense of history and to a semblance of decency.  Both expressed pride and confidence in the ability of our nation’s youth.  Both faced rudeness from opponents, and ebullience from supporters.  More’s the pity.

Our best days are yet to come.  This will happen, when we stop seeing our leaders as mere extensions of ourselves; indeed, when we stop seeing other people as mere extensions of ourselves, in terms of what we think they should think, say and do.  When the dreams of each person become worthy of consideration, when they are validated in their goodness, when they are challenged and lovingly corrected in their elements of error or destructiveness, then will Humanity realize its true greatness.  When we truly learn to listen to each other, to link arms and celebrate one another’s humanity, then will our nation,  and our planet, begin to truly shine.

Our best days are yet to come.

Two Grapes

6

February 3, 2020-

The young girl had less willpower than she had thought.  Faced with a sumptuous, fully-laden buffet, she took two grapes for herself.  This awakened the buffet’s master, who killed two of the young girl’s faerie guides and nearly captured her.  In turn, the faeries’ master, a faun, angrily banished the young girl from his enchanted cave.  I got the initial impression, whilst watching Pan’s Labyrinth, last night, that the faun was no more enamoured of the child-or of children in general, than was the girl’s step father, a severe and arrogant captain in Francisco Franco’s Army.

It was 1944, and while the Fascists had largely brought Spain under their control, there were pockets of active partisan resistance.   There was little tolerance for romantic notions or for childhood fancies.  The girl was tolerated by both of the principal male figures, as mentioned above, and her mother, the captain’s new wife, was merely a means to an end for her husband, who wanted a male heir above all else.

I thought of just how much progress has been made, with regard to gender relations, since that time.  Like any other area of life, the most progress towards equanimity has been made since the mid-1970’s, when women stopped gratuitously accepting acts of chivalry.  The truer, deeper courtesy that came out of the Women’s Rights movement of 1970-76 has only served to help men become more authentic gentlemen, rather than simply aping the courtesies of the past.  Honouring a woman’s dignity meant that she could open her own doors-and even open a door for a man.

The little girl, Ofelia, was as skillful as she was willful, managing to fool a monstrous frog, who had stolen a key belonging to the faun.  She also got a dagger from a cabinet in the buffet master’s chamber, and procured mandrake root, which she nourished in order for her pregnant, ailing mother to recover.  She never appeared to wallow in self-pity.

The captain and his men made a mess of things, leading to his wife’s death and, eventually, to their own slaughter.  This, by dint of their stubborn adherence to Franco’s doctrine of “cleansing Spain”.  The faun, also doctrinaire, inadvertently caused Ofelia to be caught by the captain, through his insistence that she let her infant brother be bled.

Everyone serves the Creator, directly or indirectly.  As it happened, Ofelia’s refusal to shed her innocent brother’s blood, preferring to sacrifice herself instead, met with approval from her Eternal Father, who welcomed her into Paradise, with a throne of her own, to his left.  The chastened faun recognized her goodness in the end, and bowed in service.

The calamities set in motion by the pure child, eating two grapes, leave lots of room for thought:  Who is more at fault, a child taking a small bit of food from another being, or the chastiser, full of his own importance?

 

Entitled?

6

January 31, 2020-

While covering a class yesterday, I showed the film, “Avatar”.  The point was made that, in the far future, a certain segment of Earth’s populace was bent on colonizing a planet similar to our own.  It involved a colonialist mentality, based on perceived economic benefit.

I read a report, yesterday, about an American woman, missing in the Central American country of Belize.  The report said she was last seen on a beach, late at night.  Several commentators cast aspersions on the safety conditions in that country, as well as those in the Dominican Republic.  The comments included the opinion that Americans are routinely seen as projecting a “rich and entitled” persona, by residents of those countries.

I have never been to either nation.  I have been to the South American nation of Guyana, where similar charges were leveled against the local populace.  I was there, with Penny, for three weeks.  We walked about with humility, and did not find ourselves being menaced or accosted by anyone.  We had escorts and host families, the entire time we were there.  That was 1984, and yet I am certain that similar precautions would bear similar results now.

I have been a number of places, since that year.  I can say that I made some boneheaded judgments, when in Europe, in 2014, but none based on hubris or egoism.  I learned what not to do again.  It is simply best to walk in humility and fair-mindedness, albeit while maintaining a smart sense of safety.  I have plans that will take me far afield, over the next five years-and I don’t rule out any given country.  Most will involve making suitable security arrangements beforehand, in any case-but not because I am “rich and entitled”.  There will be many conversations on the subject, I’m certain-just as I spoke with a few disaffected people in Guyana, 36 years ago, and in Paris, six years ago.

This is perhaps as big a reason for my reaching out, as any.

Mamba

8

January 27, 2020-

The fog that can roll in, off any given coastline, shoreline or river bank, as air temperature changes, can render even the best of navigators helpless.  There have been several times, over the years, when I have arrived safely at a destination only because the car was in good shape and there were no impediments, other than the lack of visibility.

I leave it to the experts, to figure out what went horribly wrong, yesterday, when nine people, including former National Basketball Association player, Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, were killed in a helicopter crash, near Calabasas, CA, outside Los Angeles.  Of course, conspiracy theories have already surfaced, but no matter. The bottom line is, a highly-talented and accomplished basketball player and teacher who, like the rest of us, had his flaws, is dead.

His legacy:  Both good-the Mamba Basketball Academy, philanthropy for women’s sports-especially for basketball, and a graceful reconciliation with his beautiful and intelligent wife; and bad- at least one badgered and dishonoured victim of a serious misstep, 17 years ago, is all too common among those who have either worked diligently (as Kobe Bryant certainly did) or have inherited good fortune, in reaching the upper echelons of society.  “Rank has its privileges” has been, thankfully, countered by the #MeToo movement.  Let’s leave that aspect of Mr. Bryant’s life, for a later date. To the degree we come back to it all, it should only be for whatever healing society is willing to afford the savaged victim, especially as he was not the only one who hurt her. Victim blamers have their own burden of guilt.

The improvement, in the conduct of professional basketball, had much to do with Kobe Bryant’s example, on the court-and, in his later years, off court as well.  His “Mamba” ethic, relentless in pursuit of a goal, in a sport at which he excelled, has proven to be well-emulated   He saw competitors as comrades- a fact well-borne out by the torrent of tribute, all quite heart-felt, from NBA players, past and present.  He saw his duty, as a citizen and social icon, as far outweighing any hubris and egoism that may have gotten in his way.  Thus, he made raising strong daughters his mission.  Thus, he maintained a wide variety of friendships, across social strata.  Thus, his last public act was congratulating the man who surpassed him in total league scoring:  LeBron James.

We are, each of us, such works in progress.  I only wish for that progress to continue in the spirit world, for Kobe Bryant, and for all who made great work of their physical lives, even if they stumbled, and fell hard.  Rest in Peace, Mamba.

 

Gratings, and Sour-utations

8

January 25, 2020-

The comment was unmistakable- I had crossed a line of political correctness, by stating that my colleagues at the school where I worked, the past two weeks, were going to wipe the school’s laptops clean, with a view towards safety.  This struck the commenter as borderline illegal.  Such is not the case:  Those computers are the property of the school district, and by extension, the State of Arizona.  No one advocates state control of personal computers.  It is the duty of educators to safeguard students from identity thieves and predators-period.

This has been the mood today- both online and here in town-sour, formal and hypercritical.  I was raised to walk through such environments and look to a brighter day.  So, here I am, having focused on positive aspects of life.

While it’s true that I am not returning to Peach Springs, next week, that does not mean, as some seem to think, that I dropped the ball, yet again.  My view is always to look for the most competent instructor for a group of children, and she will take the reins on Monday.

While it’s true that I spent two weeks helping that school, it doesn’t mean, as others have suggested, that I ignored the needs of Yavapai County, just to bring in more money. If that were true, I would not have come back here, signed on for more hours and added more schools in the county to my availability list.

While it’s true that I reserve the right to block people who make derogatory remarks about my late wife, and family, on social media, it does not-as one person is telling anyone who will listen, that I care nothing for the welfare of the mentally ill.  It is simply a matter of common decency-and pandering to a person’s baser instincts is doing nothing to help improve their state of being.

So, I hope people in Prescott and vicinity, and readers of this blog, feel better as the days in the northern hemisphere get longer, and as conditions in Australia and elsewhere improve.   May we not grate on one another, or give in to sour moods.