Undiminished

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December 29, 2022- The couple walked two steps in front of me, as I was heading home, past the stately Hassayampa Inn, after meeting Akuura for an afternoon of conversation over latte and tea, at the newly-opened Century Lounge. The woman expressed to her mate, that she didn’t think she could walk much further, on the somewhat slippery sidewalk, to which he replied “You can do it, Baby. Come on, Baby!”

I don’t recall Penny and I having addressed each other in infantile terms, though terms of endearment came out of our mouths on a daily basis. She was straightforward about infantilization, so much so that our son, once he reached the age of three, would say: “I’m NOT a baby!”. Children emulate their mothers, or their primary caretakers of either sex, early on.

So, it seems that the term, “Baby”, applied equally by men and women alike, towards their mates, could be neutral. Yet, given the frequency that women, in the Industrial Age, or earlier, starting with the Manorial System, were treated in a subservient manner, the connotation of the word “Baby”, or even “Babe” (used to describe an attractive female, of any age) has been implied infancy. Of course, women who use that term towards their men are hardly emasculating them. It’s just that to me, and to many others, the best thing anyone can do in a relationship is to encourage a sense of equality, of supporting their mate’s following of her/his life plan and realization of dream (s).

It may well not be a matter of if, but when, I find myself in a relationship again. At that point in time, my choice of expressing endearment will reflect how I view the person who is walking beside, not behind, me. I never want to be one who diminishes another human being.

Still A Tenderfoot Scout

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December 28, 2022- When I was in Boy Scouts, from ages 10 to 12, I started out, as all did, a tenderfoot. Eventually, I made it up to First Class, with only a lingering fear of deep water keeping me from the mandatory Swimming and Lifesaving merit badges that would have advanced me to Star, Life and Eagle Scouts. To this day, I don’t swim well with my head above water, but can do about 2 laps underneath.

Shyness still makes itself known in friendships as well. There are people I consider friends, who I am a bit reticent about visiting, mainly because they are reticent about being visited, even though when I have seen them, they wax poetic about my loving nature or gentle energy. Of course, this is on them, but it does bring back old insecurities.

I count people as friends, who are from ages 2 1/2 to 91. Each has a connection that is indelible and each brings a particular quality to the table. Children and seniors bring an unfiltered wisdom. All those in between have character qualities that may not be unfiltered, but are worth encouraging. Some of these friends are only reachable online. Others could not be bothered with cyberspace. Some are quite well-known; others are people most could not tell apart from Adam or Eve. Some are people with whom I have had only a few encounters; others have been my friends since childhood. They run the gamut from students to retired executives; from the kids across the street to my financial advisor, who lives in Florida, and the couple who run a seaside bistro in Brittany.

Only a few people, who chose to dwell on my negative qualities, because that’s all they could see, have had to be cut loose. In every other case, my loyalty remains firm-even if a friend comes up with excuses, every time I ask to visit with them, or is surrounded by “protectors”, who make it clear I am not welcome there. I am still something of a shy tenderfoot, yet feel much blessed in the friend department, as has been said several times.

Lesson Nine

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December 27, 2022- Seemingly everywhere, and handling five tasks at once-one for each finger of her hand-so to speak, the head barista caught me signaling out of the corner of her eye, saw the half- sandwich on my plate and went in the back for a take-out box. She then swept back into the ellipse, and put the box down in front of me, while directing her attention to the couple next to me, who were initially enjoying expensive drinks, but had decided they wanted what I had to eat. ‘E’ had been at work since 11 a.m. and it was now 6:30. Her boss, the restaurant manager, and her assistant barista, a slightly younger woman, were doing the best they could to keep up-but ‘E’ is a force of nature. Petite, brainy, proactive, highly energetic and absolutely gorgeous, she can name her ticket-and I would venture that by time she is 25, she will be her own boss.

”E’ is, inadvertently, one of my life teachers. The lesson she has imparted, seared into my consciousness, is to reiterate that a strong woman, a strong human, needs no initial help from anyone, in reaching for the stars. The ladder is something she will devise herself, as is the team she is building and will continue to build. I have seen, and known, several people like her, over the years. Some have imploded, due to a latent inflexibility in the face of misfortune. Others have gone on and hit the heights. Time will tell into which category ‘E’ falls-but she is both gregarious and stone-faced practical, by turns. I sense she will face whatever comes along, with aplomb.

This is the ninth life lesson, along with several sub-lessons, that living on Earth has brought. The others:

  1. I am part of a family and cannot exist just for myself.
  2. Deciding to just up and walk away from home has its consequences.
  3. It is one thing to have an unusual personality and quite another to use it as an excuse.
  4. Self-loathing is a false modus vivendi. God created no junk.
  5. All the crap I absorbed in my community about People of Colour, and about women, is just that-BS.
  6. No matter how bad a situation is, walking through it will lead to greater strength and a place of peace.
  7. Every person on Earth has a place of truth in the heart. If someone hides their truth, it is on them.
  8. There is but one race: The human race.
  9. Every person on the planet, regardless of age, is capable of wondrous things-even singly and alone.

So often, just watching how people handle their lives is an object lesson in how I might deal with challenges in mine. I am grateful for all the people who have imparted life lessons.

No Reindeer on This Ride

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December 24, 2022- The father took his teenage daughters to pick out a Christmas tree for their home. He was used to going alone, and picking out a huge spruce, that only fit inside the house after a struggle and some sawing off of limbs. Not this time: The girls saw a scrawny, mini-tree, no more than three feet tall. They fell in love with it, and wanted to take it home and care for it-“Looks so lonely, Daddy!”. Yes, the result was a foregone conclusion, and the tree is said to be sitting in the family’s front room, decorated by Dad and his eldest angel.

With this story under my belt, I headed off to deliver a gift which had inadvertently been mailed to me, by a rehabilitation worker who was confused by a patient sending “too many gifts to too many places.” Spoiler alert: There were four gifts going to two places. No reindeer were over-exercised on this delivery. It was me and my Sportage doing the honours.

After a stop in Flagstaff, to pick up a small gift for a family in the same area, who have been suffering a most untimely loss, I headed to Hopiland. Going to delivery stop # 1, I got Reservation-style directions from a woman who barely knew the recipients, and, combining her comments with the description I got from the sender, I was able to deliver the gift easily, and get the t-shirt that was intended for me and had been mailed to the other party.

The other small gift was then brought to the matriarch of the grieving family, and after a brief offer of condolences, I headed back off the Hopi Reservation, a place that has never stopped feeling like home. “Visiting” Hopi families, during periods of mourning or when the people are preparing for a holiday, is a necessarily brief occasion-unless one is of blood family. Then again, the same has been true of late, with other friends- visits pertain to the matter at hand, and vague promises of “getting together again soon” precede the farewell.

Holidays just are not easy for many.

Possibilities

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December 21, 2022- On a lark, I spent a little time this evening, watching a show about the misadventures of a young woman in a place for which she was ill-prepared. It had a bit of an “I Love Lucy” meets “Anna and The King” air about it. She was, though, making it work, day to day, when I signed off and went on to other activities for the evening. The gist was that, though she seemed a bit flighty, there was a very strong sense of self-and a pluckiness that brought her eventual success. She was nobody’s fool.

We each face similar situations, even when we stay in place and try to adhere to a certain basic routine. I’ve heard from friends whose lives are rather cut and dried, who have recently been facing challenges they had only vaguely expected. These range from weather that is so cold, that even an Alaska-style battery-warmer would be hard put to keep a vehicle working, to health challenges facing multiple members of a family, at once, and I’m not talking about viruses.

Thus do we find ourselves exploring possibilities. In this little corner, I will be talking with a couple of educators, tomorrow, about filling in at a position for the coming semester. This would make my own routine fairly basic, for the first time in four years. On the other hand, I could keep my present plan, which would have me covering different positions, for 3-5 days each, at certain points in the coming semester. If that plays out, I would still be available for some Red Cross activities and would head to the Northwest and Alaska, in late April, for 3 weeks or so. The other option would be none of the above, a misty, foggy scenario about which I haven’t a clue as to how things would play out. (2020 was THAT sort of year, and things got rather intense-but all ended fairly well.)

Even in “retirement”, the plight of the world, and all those I care about, settles deeply into my consciousness. The possibilities for responsible action remain endless.

Winter’s Arrival.

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December 20, 2022- It was a bit warmer today, in Prescott, as we reached the cusp of another Solstice. We are, though, pretty much the exception, across North America right now. All reports I am seeing are of bone-chilling cold; the polar Vortex; no outward sign of the dreaded warming. Of course, long-term vagaries of climatic change are not defined by the events of one season or another. That is of no comfort, however, to those on the Plains, in the subarctic and clear into the Deep South, who are faced with temperatures which are well below zero, in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.

It is the season of “Look out for your neighbour”, much as one does in scorching heat. I am grateful that my mother is in a place where her warmth and safety are pretty much guaranteed. The cold of New England will not be of harm to her. Those in places as far south as Brownsville, TX; clear to Tallahassee and due north to Pittsburgh are facing the Vortex and will hopefully be kept safe, by the vigilance of their community members.

Vigilance of a different form, not depending on weather, needed exercising today-as I noted a friend’s business was under veiled threat from an online commentator. Fortunately, a screen shot of the rudeness was provided to my friend, in time to take action and have the threats removed from that platform. It is quite possible that, as cruelty to animals often precedes violence against humans, so do online posts presage physical attacks. Steps can now be taken to upgrade security in this case.

In closing, I wish readers a Joyous Yule/Solstice, Hanukah Sameach- and an early Merry Christmas. Posts will continue, on a daily basis, of course, but it is never too soon to wish everyone the best.

Thought Experiments

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December 17, 2022- I spent part of this afternoon, prior to taking in a Latino rock band’s performance at the Raven, listening to several jazz arrangements of classical pieces. These included renditions of ceremonial standards: The Bridal Chorus, Wedding March, and Pomp & Circumstance-which I regarded as an elegant drudge at my own graduation from High School, some fifty four years ago. Most such jazz arrangements are thought experiments; some are done with the knowledge and encouragement of the original composers-Maurice Ravel and Aaron Copland certainly smiled at the best of up-tempo versions of their work. Petr Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Bach would likely have felt the same.

The wedding-related pieces have been worked into certain nuptials, though I haven’t heard of any usage of Tom Kubis’ rousing version of “Pomp” in a graduation exercise. Methinks the kids would love it, but not so, much more traditionalist adults. Nonetheless, thought experiments, so long as they don’t lead to harm of anyone, or to disparagement of the tried and true, are good for individual and collective consciousness. This extends to most alternative adaptations of traditional music-though a few loud, up-tempo versions of children’s lullabies have fallen flat, mainly because of the decibel level of the performances (not good for tender ears) and the fact that the purpose of a lullaby is usually to get a child to calm down and go to sleep.

This brings me to “thought experiments” that have been broached recently, by prominent personages, and pertaining to everything from the United States Constitution to how people should live their lives when in private to the composition of life in the Universe (Some have posited that there are planets inhabited by Cat People and Horse People). Such exercises, besides being rather numbing to the consciousness of those entertaining such thoughts, and disruptive to the national fabric, are flying in the face of the forward march of history. They are allowed by said Constitution, but like the most raucous of loud and swinging lullabies, are best kept to the privacy of their fashioners.

Jazz interpretations of Classical Music, reasoned political discourse-regardless of viewpoint and careful research into any aspect of life in the Universe add luster to our social condition-at least from where I stand. Those thought experiments that solely reflect the egotism of their adherents serve no redeeming purpose.

Means of Support

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December 16, 2022- After a few days of making tentative bonds with some hostelers from Quebec and central Europe, and encountering a bridal party whose central member was chilled to the bone, I returned to find some of my dearest friends alternately encountering an almost Job-like series of difficulties and others finding disappointment and canceled plans at their door.

December can be a cruel month, perhaps rivaling T.S. Eliot’s April. Largely because so many have worked hard all year, and suffered so much from disease, to have a reasonable wish for a break of some kind is a small expectation. The Universe, though, does not always honour small expectations-perhaps because larger issues are at stake, or there are caveats attached to the wish, or maybe someone is in the reward queue ahead of the supplicant. I have had wishes that I secretly wanted to be fulfilled-in the company of _________, but not _________. That has been the undoing of the request.

The last two weeks of this year will prioritize helping those mentioned above-if they feel the need for my assistance and support. It’s vital for me to go over this in my heart, every day, and make sure that there are no agendas or caveats of my own involved. Life has been, on balance, good for me in 2022, and honestly, I want to share that fortune with those who have meant so much around here. At the same time, everyone faces life in their own way, and solitude is sometimes the only way a person, or family, can cope.

So it will play out as it is meant to-and I will stand by, with eyes and ears open, as we take one step at a time through the perils placed in the path trod by humanity. I am honoured to even be in a position to offer support, even if it is mostly emotional.

Seven Dogs and Seven People

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December 10, 2022- The strikingly comely woman described being in a van, with the titular living arrangement. There was a time in my life when just being in the same environment with a person like her would have been Heaven on Earth. As I think about it, and ponder her own description of the situation, I would now be more likely to see what I could do to extricate her,and probably at least a few of the dogs, from that sardine can of a vehicle.

I have been in crowded vehicles that were headed from A to B, on more than one occasion. The obvious ones have been airplanes, but there were others-a third class train, from Playa San Carlos to Nogales, Sonora; a third class ferry, from Yosu to Jeju, South Korea; a van from Blue Springs, MO to Troy, NY. This last saw me help calm a cranky toddler, who had just driven her mother to exasperation. The young woman got about an hour’s respite as I held the little girl gently enough so she fell asleep for a while.

I went to the Raven Cafe, again this evening, after a delightful Christmas party, featuring pork ribs, potatoes and vegetable, for two reasons: One was to purchase a to-go meal, for the benefit of Arizona’s Children Association; the other was to listen to the band, The Barn Swallows, a folk music iteration of four musicians calling themselves Juniper Djinn. JD offers jazz from the 1930s and ’40s, with an emphasis on the Gypsy jazz that was popularized by Django Reinhardt. The Barn Swallows, three women with extraordinary voices, gave us two hours and thirty minutes of mellifluous, original folk tunes that hinted of the experiences people had during the Great Depression. The lovely lady mentioned above was one of these. All were compelling talents, backed by a male cellist/guitarist.

The troupe will return to Prescott again, in mid-January. This will hopefully give a good friend, who couldn’t make it this evening, a chance to enjoy their offerings. In any case, the band has at least one new fan.

It’s a supreme joy to appreciate the totality of human beings and their talents.

Safeguarding

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December 8, 2022- A chirpy voice uttered a “complimentary” greeting to me, as I was leaving the building. I looked down to see a very short person, looking up at me with a radiant smile. This was either a ruse or a slightly disturbed individual, given the nature of the words-which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say, a person my age is NOT someone who is usually the recipient of such comments. We both kept walking in opposite directions, and I did not look back; there was no reason to, unless I myself was disturbed. Making a big deal of it would have been evidence of the latter.

My charges and I had just had a good, honest talk, in which I reassured them, especially a young man, that they could opt out of a reportedly graphic information presentation on matters which used to be handled between father and son, or mother and daughter. Both the boy and his female classmates seemed relieved that they did not have to sit through someone else’s idea of valid information. (The individual mentioned above was not part of that class, and was not anyone I had ever seen before.)

We live in an age when there is both honesty about matters of the flesh and gross overkill as to how soon in life someone should make a determination about his/her gender identity and as to who is to help make that determination. (My own position is that no gender change should be made, until a person is at least 18, and then, only when armed with full information on all aspects of such a change,) We live in an age when entire generations have grown up with adulterated food, air and, in many cases, water. We have no clear idea what specific effects the substances, from GMOs to microplastics to heavy metals, have had on human beings and other living things. Hormonal imbalances, along with mental disorders and early onset diseases, may very well be a result of these substances being present.

We also live in an age when there is both free flowing commentary about once private matters and anonymity, in speech, and between even people living in close proximity to one another; sometimes, between people living in the same house. One by-product of these is a plethora of confused and frightened individuals. Thus, the highly intelligent young man who was all too vocal about what he regarded as institutional overkill, in trying to influence his decision-making, which he preferred be a matter between his father and himself,

It is no secret, in this community, and on the pages of this blog, that I love young people very deeply, in the true sense of the word. I recently watched a program, in which one of the characters said, “We safeguard those we love. We keep them from harm, coming from any source.” That has been my modus vivendi, since I was probably 9 years of age. Maybe being the oldest of five children had something to do with it; maybe realizing that life is tough, no matter what age one is, had its influence. In any case, I long ago decided my life’s work would be helping young people safely realize their dreams and to the extent possible, on their own terms. That is how our son was raised, and that is how I advise anyone else.

If I again encounter the child mentioned at the top of this post, my words will be the same as with others: “Walk carefully; speak thoughtfully; live authentically; dream fearlessly.”