February 13, 2017, Prescott-
Snow besets the Northeast,
Rain fills the Southwest’s waterways,
Dust retreats, into mud.
The Alt-Right cries foul,
The Prog-Left yells foul words,
Civility retreats, into a cave.
Strength looks like force,
Humility is seen as weakness,
Sensibility retreats, into a whirlwind.
I am listening quietly,
You wince at my expression,
Perception retreats, into personal mythology.
January 18, 2017, Prescott-
Three storms are said to be headed our way.
The eternal optimist at the Arizona Republic calls for heavy rain,
all three days.
Locals in the know,
say there’ll be tons of snow.
Taking one day at a time,
all I’m sayin’
is, I am, as usual,
going to move nice and slow.
(This weekend was to be full, with a quick trip to Phoenix, on Friday night, to join a peace vigil. Then, I was going to Camp Verde, on Saturday morning, to help install smoke detectors. Sunday was to be devoted to Baha’i study. Right now, my first event will depend on whether the roads are not too slick. The second has been postponed. The third is still a definite go, but that could change, if the storm lags.)
Hope all in the northwest, Midwest and southeast are getting back to normal.
January 16, 2017, Prescott- I spent most of today just being here for my son and a friend of his, so that they got a good breakfast into themselves and didn’t forget any of their gear, from last night’s camp-out. The other act of service was a visit to my surrogate uncle, Henry “Hank” Alcott, whom I’ve mentioned here before. He told me I needed to cook for myself more, and so I have a sheet with some of his favourite New England recipes. He also reinforced my commitment to service, by telling me, again, about his daily regimen of getting up at dawn, making his own bed and going around the VA Hospital, and visiting those who are alone. Henry is 93, and regards everyone he knows as his family. I can’t think of a finer way to live fully.
This leads me to the next order of business: We hit rock bottom, during the last election cycle, in a variety of ways. Elections often produce winners who seem to be the opposite of what a country needs. There are eras, as with the presidency of Ronald Reagan, when the elected grows, marvelously, into the position and stands firm, in meeting the needs of the times.
Society could well stand a make-over or, at least, a cleansing. Here are some suggestions:
December 11, 2016, Prescott-
Don Henley included that phrase, in his song, “The End of the Innocence”, in 1989. It was partly a reaction to what he regarded as the excesses of the Reagan-Bush the Elder years.
I think of it, instantly, whenever an outlandish conspiracy theory surfaces. I have my own take on such theories, which are always based on fear-gone-wild. They are a natural outgrowth of the complex levels of secrecy, employed by so many in the power structure. Nature, and the human mind, abhor vacuums. Where there is no explanation, a person will provide one of his/her own. When no credible explanation of the assassination of John F. Kennedy was offered, in which all questions were suitably explained to the public, all manner of explanations began to surface. It was not long, before every unusual or unsettling event, from the Apollo 13 landing, to the airplane crashing into the Pentagon, was questioned, as to it’s ever having even happened. Even the wanton slaughter of 26 people, in Newtown, CT, was denied by people with a fair audience- as if 20 children and six adults could actually be alive, and visible, one day- and have never even EXISTED, the next.
Yes, this nation is poisoned by fairy tales- both those invented from whole cloth and those made up by people working for God-knows-who, the end result of which is total, rampant confusion. Now, we will have four years, during which a man with little political experience has the primary job of leading us out of a wilderness, to which many of his own supporters, and a goodly number of his foes, helped to guide us, in the first place.
May he succeed, even if, especially if, he is not initially so inclined.
December 9, 2016, Prescott- Acker Night, a fundraising event for the arts, in downtown Prescott, took place this evening. I went to my usual venues- Lifeways Bookstore, to hear a violin soloist, Whiskey Row Courtyard, to see a belly-dancing troupe (Mariachi background, rather than last year’s jazz accompaniment), Old Sage Books, to hear a delightful string ensemble, of five young women.
Before my little stroll, at a counter-side dinner, in Marino’s Mob Burger, I was joined by a woman who is a self-taught home remodeler and designer. She is re-working a home in Granite Dells, which she considers her dream home, after a few years of trial and disappointment, largely due to key people in her life not giving her due credit. This seems to happen a lot to people, especially women, whom I have met over the past five years.
It happened to Penny, too, before we met- and she proved her doubters wrong, time and again. My friends in this time of widowhood also keep their detractors off balance, through sheer constancy and determination. Overcoming others’ low expectations is not so hard. It is overcoming oneself that is the main barrier.
For my part, I am determined to see this academic year to a successful finish, in May, and see that each of our students is in the right environment for success. Not every child who is currently with us is in the optimum environment for meeting his needs, but this, too, becomes an opportunity to raise the bar of expectations, both with regard to the child and to the system.
I’ve sometimes underestimated myself, and had those low evaluations eagerly confirmed by those around, and above, me. Those days are gone. I hope they are gone for my friends, old and new, as well.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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