Ghost Ship

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on December 5, 2016 in impediments, Social

December 4, 2016, Prescott- It was terrifying to contemplate: Dozens of people, in a warehouse-turned-party-place, whose only possible escape from an electrical fire was a makeshift stairway, fabricated from stacked pallets. 33 of them died, and having had a good friend burn to death, forty years ago, I shudder at what must have gone through their minds.

The “Ghost Ship” warehouse, in Oakland, is just the tip of the iceberg, when it comes to dilapidated and unsafe buildings, around the country and around the globe, being used for commercial, social and even residential purposes. Earthquakes periodically remind us of the need to upgrade our building codes and increase enforcement of them. Fires- Providence, Philadelphia, New York’s Garment District, Boston’s Coconut Grove and Dhaka come to mind most readily- tend to do so, far more intimately.

Another factor, in building-related injuries and deaths, reckless driving, also came to the fore, on Friday night, in Phoenix. Nine patrons and four employees of a Persian restaurant were put in harm’s way, when a seemingly impaired, and rather hostile, driver plowed his BMW into the establishment, not stopping his vehicle until almost at the back wall. He then got out of the car, and calmly took a seat, not even bothering to even look at the people he nearly killed. Fortunately, he was otherwise unarmed and the police were quick to respond.

Somehow, some way, the notion that all lives matter needs to be taken far more seriously. Lax fire codes, and devaluing the lives of those one regards as “those others”, will otherwise claim far more human victims.

Crowds

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on December 4, 2016 in collaborating, Community, impediments, Social, Striving

December 3, 2016, Prescott- I am pinching my pennies, for the next two weeks, as it is both high bill time and a cause for continuing severance of expenditures that no longer make sense. Satellite TV and landline telephone have gone by the boards, as a result. Even my essential oils purchases are cut, since I’m the only one buying from me. There also won’t be many meals out, if I’m dining alone. It doesn’t take much to make me happy, anyway.

Watching this evening’s lighting of Courthouse Square, including the Christmas tree, was a free delight, though. The melodic voices of children of all ages added sonic luster to the event. I was a needle in a humongous crowd- I’d estimate 2,000 people on the lawn, and another 500 or so, walking the streets and patronizing every restaurant, cafe and shop within a half-mile radius of the Square. I found a small deli, a bit off the beaten track, and contented myself with a cheap, delicious bowl of meatball,kale and white bean soup.

Although I am perfectly happy being alone, I like crowds. They bring prosperity to my otherwise struggling friends and neighbours in the downtown shops and restaurants. I learn from listening to different people talking, as we all stand and watch the festivities, or while walking along the sidewalks. Although, they can try people’s patience, they also bring a chance to think outside the box and to develop networks of co-operation, that otherwise would not have a chance to be established. One never knows when such networks will be imperative.

Last Sunday, at a gas station just this side of the Colorado River, I happened upon the usual chaotic, end-of-holiday scene. I took my place in a pump queue, moved up in amazingly short order, and filled the Hyundai’s tank. As I was preparing to drive out, after paying, another driver backed into the spot in front of me, boxing me in and keeping the person behind me from pulling up to the tank. The driver behind me got out and started yelling at the miscreant, who, as it happened, did not speak English, but looked determined not to co-operate, in any event. Fortunately, there was an attendant on scene, who directed me around the car and carefully past the store front, which was also insanely busy.

Thinking outside the box seems to be the only way, as we move through a most unsettled and chaotic time.

Rust Removal

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on November 10, 2016 in collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 9, 2016, Prescott- This past summer, en route to visiting my family in Massachusetts, I stopped to visit a progressive friend, in Indianapolis, on July 5. We caught up on events of the past few years, and agreed that life was taking a turn for the better, for a good many people who had previously been living on the edge of society, though there was lots of work still to be done.

Five hours later, I stopped for dinner, in Zanesville, OH, in the foothills east of Columbus. As I took a drive through the town, my heart was breaking. There is much about the “Rust Belt”, from Pittsburgh and Buffalo to St. Louis and Milwaukee, that deserves this nation’s gratitude and support. This is an area which once kept our country moving, during the years of war, and in times of past economic despair, the Midwest was where our national economy got a reboot.

Zanesville presented a picture of a crumbling, somewhat boarded-up mini-version of Detroit, or of Buffalo at the turn of this century. Its plight is, no doubt, replicated throughout the region. The place needs believers.

In the past few weeks, the election cycle, just ended, featured one candidate insulting a wide variety of target groups. Another candidate used the word “deplorable” to identify a large group of other people. Both candidates claimed to care for those left behind by the nascent economic recovery. Now, one of them has to make good on his rhetoric.

Human beings are not deplorable. Behaviors and attitudes can be. One such attitude is the view that people of colour are less than fully human. Another holds that people who live in gender confusion, or are oriented differently, in terms of sexuality, need to be converted to a more conventional sexual identity. A third, equally unfortunate, attitude holds that it is perfectly okay to leave uneducated, conservative people of European descent, in the rubbish heap of history.

My answer is : None of the above is okay. We saw what happened, twice, when the first two mindsets were challenged by a vocal electorate. Last night, we saw what happened when the third mindset got its comeuppance. There is, simply put, one overall solution: Re-establishing community. The White people of small towns and farms are not, inherently, the enemies of African-Americans, LGBT people, or Latinos. The disconnect comes from not getting to know each other, and from relying on third parties to make each other’s acquaintance, and resume the practice of active listening.

I have friends across the political spectrum, and have made a point of traveling widely in the Midwest and South, for the very reason that every community is worthy of at least acquaintance. Ignorance of others only leads to bloodshed. History bears this out.

Make no mistake: I will not abide an American Kristelnacht, or Jacobin tyranny, without speaking out and acting forcefully, if nonviolently. The American Legion, to which I belong, vows to oppose tyranny of “both the classes and the masses.” The first is outmoded and unnecessary. The second needs to know that all its members are important. “The People” refers to all human beings.

It’s time to scrape the rust off our souls, as well as off the factory towns of the North.

Matthew

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 7, 2016 in Assistance, Community, impediments, Poetry

October 6, 2016, Prescott

Far from here,

mothers slog through the water-logged

streets of Les Cayes and Petit-Goave,

carrying their babies,

to shacks on higher ground.

Their own shanties are now home

to snakes and vermin,

which can better thrive

in a watery place.

An American expatriate,

yesterday lay on the beach

at West End, Grand Bahama.

Today, he sits on his cot,

in a Bahamian Red Cross shelter,

wondering about his faithful dog.

A Cuban woman, dazedly wandering

the streets of Baracoa,

remembers the day

when Pope Francis blessed her.

“What is he thinking”, she wonders,

“about the most powerful storm

to hit Cuba, in decades?”

In Fort Lauderdale,

the image of the Governor

appears on a TV screen.

“Evacuate, evacuate, evacuate”,

he says, as the storm of the century,

plods on- over Lake Wales and Apopka.

In Virginia’s Tidewater,

a young mother gathers her family’s

necessities, for the third time this year.

Matthew has brought water, debris and mud,

change agent that he is.

Unless and Until-Education

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 5, 2016 in children, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Spiritual

October 4, 2016, Prescott-

As our little classroom was not the right fit for a troubled child, I have to voice a few thoughts.

Unless and until:

Adult educators consistently place the well-being of children first;

People on a team eschew oneupmanship;

Children are empowered, according to their developmental levels;

Communication across hierarchical levels, and between colleagues, becomes and remains clear and consistent;

Downtime is minimized to almost nothing;

Spiritual (not sectarian) principles are infused into education, so as to strengthen character;

Cooperative learning becomes the norm;

Children are seen as a valid constituency, by elected officials;

Society places education at the highest priority;

We will continue to face repeated and familiar issues, in our collective mirror.

On Juniper Mesa

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on September 6, 2016 in Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Striving

Juniper Mesa, from George Wood Canyon

September 4, 2016, Walnut Creek, AZ- This settlement is only intermittently populated, when researchers from Arizona’s public universities, and Prescott College, show up to conduct their monitoring of the high desert’s overall health, in an area far from any permanent, sizable human community. A few ranches break the landscape and, indeed, one of those ranches, just west of Juniper Mesa’s main trailhead, is sealed off from anyone not associated with its operation.

I came out here, in mid-afternoon, to explore the sky island known as Juniper Mesa. The place was, in the 1870’s and 80’s, a military encampment, an extension of Prescott’s Fort Whipple. It was, to the cavalrymen of the time, the perfect spot for a railway station, with the route commencing in Prescott, going through Del Rio (now Chino Valley) and pushing clear to the Colorado River, at Hardyville (now Bullhead City) and, from there, to San Pedro, one of the ports serving Los Angeles. The railroad was built, but it went north, to Ash Fork, then to Seligman and Kingman, connecting with a much larger, transcontinental track, the Santa Fe.

So, Juniper Mesa has reverted to a lonesomeness. I was the only person on the trail today. Fortunately, I have come to expect that, even in areas closer to Prescott. The large pack, with an ample water supply, a first aid kit, two knives, a detailed topographic map and a sturdy flashlight, along with one of my trusty walking sticks, has been an integral part of my communes with nature. What has occasionally caused chuckles, from the smug hipsters doing lakeside botanical and entomological research in Prescott’s city parks, is, to me, a must on any hike lasting more than an hour. Besides, it wasn’t too long ago, that one of those individuals had to be rescued from Watson Lake Park, a ten-minute walk from a North Prescott business district, because she was dehydrated and delirious.

I saw fairly fresh horse-hoof prints, along the way and smelled fresh bobcat urine, trail side, closer to evening, but it was the insects and I who had the place to ourselves, from all outward seeming. Juniper Mesa could be for lovers, but so far, it is for the soloists.

I used three trails, in the course of my loop hike: Oaks and Willows; Juniper Mesa (rim) and the steep Bull Spring Trail. Oaks and Willows meets Walnut Creek Road (County Road 125), proceeds through the lush George Wood Canyon to the top of Juniper Mesa, then branches off to the northeast.

Here are some scenes of Oaks and Willows.

Broad trail, along the Oaks and Willows, Juniper Mesa

Thick scrub, George Wood Canyon, Juniper Mesa Wilderness

View across George Wood Canyon

Sign, gnawed by black bears, over several years

Heart of George Wood Canyon, Juniper Mesa Wilderness

Once atop the mesa, I basically followed Juniper Mesa Rim Trail, though finding it rather sparse, in several places. Horse trails, though, are easy to identify by their indentation into the ground.

Alligator Juniper, top of Juniper Mesa. I almost see a parrot’s face, in the branch stump.

Bear image, small sandstone, Juniper Mesa Rim Trail

Bears are reported to be common here, but I saw no sign of them- not even old scat. They are probably further north, or in areas more sheltered from the lightning that hits Juniper Mesa frequently, during the monsoon season, that is in hiatus for several days.

Lightning-struck tree, Juniper Mesa Rim Trail

Lightning-struck piece of limestone, and heart rock, Juniper Mesa Rim Trail

The rock above was given a fierce countenance, by a recent lightning strike.

Cairn, Juniper Mesa Rim Trail

Large cairns mark Juniper Mesa Rim Trail, at several points, especially after Oaks and Willows Trail branches off to the north. A half-mile further east, I bid farewell to the benign rout along the rim, and began the descent, on steep Bull Springs Trail.

View of Walnut Creek settlement and the Santa Maria Range, from Bull Spring Trail

Hazy view of Walnut Creek settlement, from Bull Spring Trail

Limestone cliff, east end of Juniper Mesa

The cliffs seen above, and in the next photo, were redoubts for Yavapai and Hualapai warriors, who resisted the U.S. Cavalry in the 1870’s.

Limestone cliffs, east end of Juniper Mesa

After climbing down from the mesa top, I followed Bull Spring Trail, into the darkness. Although it was along this trail, that I smelled the bobcat’s markings, the animal itself stayed out of sight, and only small insects, attracted by the flashlight’s beam, showed me any interest. It took careful attention for me to find the last trail sign, returning to the nub of Oaks and Willows Trail that led me to the car, but I enjoyed a very deep sleep tonight- far from Juniper Mesa.

This is one of several places, in the middle of Arizona’s “nowhere”, that have been on my hiker’s list, in the wake of having completed Prescott Circle. Stay tuned for others.

The Thick Accent

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on September 3, 2016 in impediments, Poetry, Social, Striving

September 2, 2016, Prescott-

(A brief thought, on a sultry night, in which I am lying low.)

You cannot understand, why I take up for men in blue.

Do you not see, that the worst among them represent what will happen,

should the best among them feel abandoned.

You say, “But you don’t understand, that WE don’t understand

their tendency to rush to judgment, and juryhood.

The police speak a language that is indecipherable, in these parts.

This is a language of both words and gestures, often simultaneous with one another.

Their speech and body language, are hard to understand.”

Hmm. I see the problem of dealing with snap decisions.

The police officer weighs in on the young men gathered up ahead.

“I think I’ll need backup- and have a bus ready.

You never know what tricks some of THEM may have up their sleeves,” he opines,

as the air feels thick with words and gestures, from one and foreign to the other.

I, the translator and peacemaker, get weary- as well as wary.

Tales from the 2016 Road: West Virginia’s “Pot Handle”

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 28, 2016 in Historical, impediments, Travel

July 13-14, 2016, Martinsburg- My processing and purchase of a 2013 Hyundai Elantra became final at 12:30 PM. I gathered my stuff at Days Inn, went over to Sugar Hill Auto and transferred everything from the Altima, paid up, said goodbye to the Old Trouper and went for lunch at Blue Colony Diner. It was time to head south.

Blue Colony Diner, Newtown, CT

The very Russian waitress was rather brusque, and hurried, something to which I’m not accustomed. The Reuben was nicely prepared, though, so I made do.

Southward became a bit of a slog, at first. An enormous pile-up, involving three tractor-trailers and eight cars, had taken place on I-84, between Newburgh and Middletown. I stayed in queue, until the State Police ushered us all off, at Exit 5-A. I went south when most everyone else headed north. The road from Goshen to Middletown was relatively empty,and I was back on I-84, in less than an hour. I was in Pennsylvania, a short time later, stopping at a Rest Area in Mountaintop, where my eldest brother and his family once lived, and enjoying the other half of my Reuben.

There was a second pile-up, near Hershey, but it was on the eastbound I-78. I took the westbound, to I-81, near Chambersburg. Then, it was a short hop, through a narrow stretch of Maryland, to Martinsburg,WV.

After a very restful sleep, followed by continental breakfast, it was time to spend a bit of time taking in Martinsburg’s downtown. There are several Federal Period structures here, as there are across both West Virginia and Virginia.

First Presbyterian Church, Martinsburg, WV

Berkeley County Courthouse, Martinsburg, WV

Martinsburg Arts Centre

The center of town is marked by a landscaped little square.

Central Square, Martinsburg, WV

The house built by General Adam Stephen, founder of Martinsburg, is preserved on the city’s southeast side. General Stephen’s residence was built of native limestone.

Adam Stephen House, Martinsburg

Root Cellar and Spring House, Adam Stephen House, Martinsburg

Native Limestone, Adam Stephen House, Martinsburg

The brick house next door was built by Philip Showers, in 1874, and housed railroad workers and their families. It is called the Triple Brick House, and was divided into three dwellings. Today, Triple Brick House serves as Martinsburg’s Historical Museum.

Triple Brick House, Martinsburg

This city was a Western outpost of Revolutionary forces during the War for Independence, and has had a key role in subsequent conflicts, from the War of 1812 to the “War on Drugs”, of the Reagan Era. It is now home to major offices of the Department of Homeland Security. Yet, on this quiet morning, it was a place of restfulness and reflection. There is much in the “Pothandle” of eastern West Virginia to explore and enjoy, so I will come through here again. It was time, however, to get as far south as possible by this evening.

NEXT: Harrisonburg of the Shenandoah

Tales of the 2016 Road: Death of An Altima

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 27, 2016 in Family, impediments, Striving, Travel

July 10-12, Bethel, CT- I got up fairly early, Sunday morning, as usual. Somehow, I was a bit like a caged cat, pacing about, doing small chores, none to the satisfaction of Mom, with her plaint of “typical man”, ever in the background. My restlessness, though, had nothing to do with that. I had had a vision of this being my Altima’s last ride and its being replaced by a small white or gray sedan. Besides, I am no longer put off by anyone’s criticism, preferring to keep at a task until it is done to my own satisfaction.

The plan was for me to make it to York, PA and there, try to connect with a young artist, who has made Cherokee crafts, for several years. I bid Mother a loving farewell, after eating the brunch she prepared, and the rain had subsided to her satisfaction.

The drive out, along the Massachusetts Turnpike, to I-84, was uneventful. I stopped, briefly, at Framingham Service Center, and had no problem continuing down the road. After a slow, but steady, passage through Hartford and Waterbury, I decided to pull off at Newtown, and fill the Nissan up with gasoline. I would then go over to Sandy Hook, and pray for the victims of the horrific shooting of 2012.

When I tried to start the Altima, though, smoke began to rise from under the hood. A generous young man gave me a gallon of coolant, which he said had “been left” in his truck. I gave him some money for that, and added a fair amount to the overflow tank.

The engine continued to smoke, and I noticed that the coolant tank, itself, was cracked and useless. A trio of motorcyclists came over and helped me push Altima into a vacant parking space. One of them cautioned me against trying to take the car any further. The Altima, and I, found his advice was sound. Car wasn’t going anywhere, without a tow.

The AAA tow took me to the Days Inn at Bethel, then took Altima to its resting place, Sugar Hill Auto Service Center, on the west side of Newtown. By then, I had contacted my sister-in-law, in Florida and my brother in Georgia, letting them know of the situation. Facebook also learned of my challenge. An hour or so later, arrangements were made for my purchase of another car, by Wednesday, and I made myself at home, in the comfortable second floor room at Days Inn. Three days of continental breakfast, a walk to/from Target, for a few odds and ends, and catching up on my reading and writing, hardly constituted suffering.

The 2005 Altima, though, had endured enough. The litany of engine woes, first taught me by my father, when I was 13: Head gasket leak, valves bent, rings broken, engine kaput swam out of the auto technician’s mouth, at various points along our phone conversation. He had spent two hours in diagnosis, on Monday. Tuesday morning, I told him not to do anything further. I would pay him for his diagnostics and for disposal of the Nissan.

The rest was due diligence on several cars offered by Danbury Auto Group. After looking at several vehicles, online, and discussing with my best friend, I settled on a 2013 Hyundai Elantra. It would be ready on Wednesday, so my relaxation continued.

Nissan Altima required quite a bit of me, financially, but it also took me to Vancouver, BC, once, to Reno and Denver, both twice. and to Southern California, about five times. For an old car, going to the East Coast proved to be the last straw, despite my having had it serviced, just before we left Prescott. Mechanics tended to blame the catalytic converter and a “bad sensor” for the occasional check engine light. I know, now, that it has to be more than that. I am glad for one thing: Its last journey took me to the place of my birth, and at least got me far enough away, that I had to stand on my own two feet, and not place an undue burden on anyone. BF helped, immeasurably, and I will repay him. RIP, my gray vehicle.

NEXT: No York, but Plenty of Martinsburg

	Patty Wolters on Limits of Responsibility
	Sagittarian Seeker on Limits of Responsibility
	Patty Wolters on Limits of Responsibility
	Sagittarian Seeker on Limits of Responsibility
	slmret on Limits of Responsibility

A Sagittarian Seeker

Sharing a life of inner and outer journeys

Category Archives: impediments

Matthew

Unless and Until-Education

On Juniper Mesa

Tales from the 2016 Road: West Virginia’s “Pot Handle”

Tales of the 2016 Road: Death of An Altima

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