Conniptions

2

February 26, 2020-

There are those who feel that things ought not change.

Once plans are made, such folks say,

only crooked people and liars would deign hint,

that these might be altered,

for the common good.

Disease, they say, is nowhere near

so bad, as to cause

portfolios to decline in value!

“Worry-warts are the enemies of the people,

and what, exactly, is being done,

with all that money?”, say the self-appointed

guardians of the trough.

Visions are conjured,

of connivers,

stuffing other people’s money,

under their own mattresses!

I wish I had such idle time,

to weave fantasies about

what might be going on,

behind the scenes.

Alas, I am too busy working in schools,

serving as a volunteer elsewhere,

and celebrating life,

with my friends,

to stress over things

which will be Old News,

by Easter.

 

Cost and Effect

2

February 25, 2020-

It is evident that, the more people become accustomed to finery, wealth and relative comfort, the harder it is for many to accept when misfortune hits.  We in the “developed” nations are now being asked to sacrifice a fair amount of our wealth, and possibly some of our comfort, as several countries,  of both advanced and aspiring economies, deal with possibly the worst epidemic of disease since the Influenza of 1918-19.  This is no random panic over who Tweeted what about whom.  This is a phenomenon that is closing factories and schools, and keeping people isolated, in the affected areas.

There is a cost to any progress, to any advance, in any given realm, whether material or spiritual.  This is the latest assessment made on a civilization that has experienced a goodly amount of growth, in the past ten years, but especially in the most recent three.

Yet after the cost is paid, there is a recovery. There will be growth and prosperity again.  The world recovered from the Spanish Influenza, though there was an over-exuberance, coupled with unequal treatment of nations that had been vanquished in World War I, that largely contributed to the Great Depression.  It is well that safeguards implemented, upon the recovery from that Depression, will serve to both temper any rush to exuberance, following the end of the current pandemic and to mitigate any long-term economic ill effects of the phenomenon.  Add to this, the very fresh memory of the economic crisis of 2008-10, and it is likely that many have either set aside a sum of money they could afford to lose, temporarily,  to a Bear Market or have established a network, on which people may tide one another over, in times of sacrifice.

So, we will learn, and re-learn, our true priorities;  refresh our consciences about what truly matters, in a well-lived life.  We will survive and thrive.

 

Retrograde

6

February 21, 2020-

It is said that, at certain times of the year, the planet Mercury appears to be moving backwards, or is in retrograde.  This is, of course, poppycock, but the illusion does have an effect on people, in the areas of relationships, transportation and finance.  People will use this illusion as an excuse to take negative actions, or to not take any action at all.  Sometimes, the latter is actually advisable, especially if life seems to be moving at too fast a pace.

I find winter, in general, as a good time to slow the pace a bit.  For me, that generally means staying, for the most part, within the bounds of my county of residence.  A couple of trips out of the area, last weekend to Yuma and tomorrow to Indio, to take in a Sheryl Crow concert, are exceptions to that, these past two months.  Energy has taken a back seat and my concentration has been mostly on boosting my immune system.

The retrograde gets credence from all the illness that has circled around our community-and many other parts of the country and the world.  I would make a humble suggestion, though:  Let us use the time to quietly connect and do manageable projects, both individually and in groups.  There will be time enough for the grand and far-reaching, in the fullness of spring and summer.

Barriers Are In the Mind

6

February 17, 2020, Yuma-

A commenter on one of my recent posts, on another social media site, took issue with the notion that freedom has a price.  Once, an explanation of that statement was offered, he had a better appreciation o fits meaning.    He did, for his part, also make a valid point:  We can choose not to surrender our freedom to those who would take us down and use us for their own designs. Indeed, I have made several choices, even so far this year, that have not set well with some others.  In the end, though, they can also choose for themselves, as to a best course of action.  The sun should not rise and set, with any other person, when it comes to making choices of one’s own.

After a three-hour visit with some long-time friends, in this bustling border city, I took in two sites that focus on the consequences of discordance and social unrest:  Yuma Territorial Prison State Historic Park and the border wall at San Luis.

The Prison is, of course,defunct as a place of incarceration.  It long ago  gave  way to a more “up-to-date” facility, in Florence, itself now slated for closure, after over 100 years of use.  Yuma Territorial Prison was established in 1875, at the behest of the area’s representative in the Arizona Territorial Legislature:  Jose Maria Redondo.  It served as the Arizona Territory’s place of incarceration, from 1876-1909.

Since that time, Yuma has alternately used the facility as a temporary high school (1910-1914), a homeless shelter (1930-39) and, most recently, as the centerpiece of the city’s historical heritage preservation.

Here are a few scenes of the present State Historical Park. Below, is a view of the Colorado River’s wetlands, below the Park grounds.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Here is the railroad bridge, opposite the Park.  It is still in use.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

This was the Parade Ground.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

This was the Guard Tower.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

These are two views of the Sally Port  (Puerto de Salir), or main entrance to the enclosed prison.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

The present-day Museum is in the site of the Prison Mess Hall.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Men and women, Mormon polygamists and Mexican revolutionaries, white collar thieves and cutthroats-all shared this facility, at one time or another. The most famous of its  prison breaks, the Gates Riot  (October, 1877), saw Superintendent Thomas Gates taken hostage, one of his trusted inmates, Barney Riggs, come to his rescue and killed Gates’ attacker.  The would-be escapees went to the Dark Cell, Gates suffered the ill-effects of the attack for the remaining twenty years of his life and Riggs was eventually set free.

Here is a view of the main cell block.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Next, a couple of views of the typical cell.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

These were the first bunk beds.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Finally, this is a view of the Dark Cell, the holding place of the most incorrigible prisoners.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

In spite of appearances, the Yuma facility was progressive for its time. It had electricity, running water and was mostly operated with a rehabilitative, rather than a punitive, mindset.

I left this city, for a forty-minute ride to San Luis, to take a brief look at the border crossing leading to the large Sonoran community of San Luis Rio Colorado. It was peak crossing time for day labourers, who were returning home.  In fairness, the barrier here looks nothing like the much-photographed Bollock sections, in other areas along the frontier.  I don’t much care for the fortress-like images being promoted as “necessary”, but the real barriers to human progress are in the mind.  This puts the onus for social change and justice squarely on those creating the barriers-both the antisocial elements whose actions generate fear and the reactionaries who fancy that building such structures will obviate any further efforts at rectifying the imbalances present in society.

Most of us, whether “liberal” or “conservative”, actually fall somewhere in the middle on this one.  I wonder how Thomas Gates, the reformer penologist, would have dealt with undocumented immigrants.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

 

 

When Relics Crumble

0

February 16, 2020, Yuma-

Driving down AZ 95, towards this vibrant border city, I passed the remnants-the shell- of a western Arizona mainstay:  Stone Cabin.  It was, I’m told, a favourite stopping place for people traveling between Las Vegas and  Mexico, during the 1950’s, ’60’s and ’70’s.  There was a large gas station and a bustling snack bar, with space for families to get out and stretch their legs, in an area which otherwise had no amenities for travelers.

Today, as I drove past, there was only the shell of the building, with no signage indicating what once was.  I knew what it was, only because of an earlier road mileage sign, on which Stone Cabin was listed.  I could sense happy ghosts, of those who had found respite there, at least during the eight months a year that Stone Cabin’s proprietors kept it open. (There was not as much traffic through the area, during the hottest months of the year:  May-August.)

Many things fall apart, in anyone’s life and in the life of a community, during the course of years, decades and, with respect to the larger social entity-centuries.  I have a certain amount of time left and, while not knowing-or needing to know, how much that is, I will carry on with what I sense is given me to do.

Society does much the same.  Some feel it is a necessary social project, to build barriers:  Walls and fences, which they hope will keep  unsavory intruders from entering the American nation.  I have my doubts, as no wall has thus far accomplished its stated purpose, in perpetuity.  We’ll see.  The project has accomplished a division of people, but across ideological lines.  It won’t physically crumble until long after the generations which have reached adulthood, as of the present day, are gone.  My own hope is that it will generate a meaningful and earnest conversation, between the physically-divided peoples, albeit from a spot where the most fearful people are experiencing a sense of relief.  When unity is realized, the wall’s builders will have unwittingly obviated its purpose.

Relics crumble, even after they have offered a fair number of people a sense of well-being.

 

Love Means Energy

8

February 14, 2020-

It’s been quite a few years, since Valentine’s Day meant taking time for romance.  The last such day was in 2011, and it was to prove the last such day,ever,-at least as far as I know now.  Penny wasn’t so much connected with us, but on that day, she was home.  She would have about 1 1/2 more weeks, living in the house that we struggled to keep.  I got six carnations, placed them in a vase, and made sure she knew they were there.  I felt her happiness, at seeing her favourite flowers.  The last time I placed carnations in a vase, six months ago, it was at her grave.

The woman closest to me now is not huge on flowers in a vase.  She prefers things she can plant.  She is also more careful with romance, for good reason.  We are  the best of friends, and that works well for me.   The key is always to meet such of the needs of another person, with which s(he) entrusts you.  We are one another’s most fervent well-wisher, sounding board and healer.

There are many other friends in my life, as my readers know-many of you are among them, in real time.  In any case, you are friends in spirit, and that has made all the difference, in times of setback and low energy.  My friends are a good part of what keeps me going.

Then, there is the purpose-the driving force behind each day, for which I draw breath.  Now, it is the life skills development of  a young lady, who has spent her brief life working mightily to learn things which so many of us take for granted.  She reminds me of my youngest brother, gone these twenty-six years.  She is the primary reason for my work, from now until the third week in May.

Love is also putting stock in the Will of God-that things happen for a reason, or for several reasons, all having to do with relationships, with personal development.  Some things happen, or don’t happen, according to our human, finite plans-but they always happen for reasons found in the Cosmos.  I had planned to visit a friend, whose husband is seriously ill, at an event in her business, this evening.  Instead, whilst I was driving to an earlier event, a tire blew and I made it to said earlier event-barely.

Friends there helped me, and thanks to the AAA, my car is at the regular mechanic’s shop.  Tomorrow morning will thus be spent with the mechanic and getting the two new tires I seem to need.  The tax returns will wait until next week.  I will stop at the other friend’s business, tomorrow afternoon.  I’ve learned to see even  mishaps as blessings.

Love means putting energy into the betterment of those around you, as well as taking care of self.

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.