The Road to Diamond, Day 133: Mather Point

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April 10, 2025, Williams, AZ- There is no one way to see the Grand Canyon. I have walked much of the Rim Trail, stood at high points with sheer drop-offs of 3,000 feet, hiked to the Colorado River and back,on the same day and in summer heat and visited ancillary spots, like the Confluence with the Little Colorado River or Havasupai Falls. I have taken meals in El Tovar Hotel’s dining room (with Penny and my parents) and eaten a grab and go sandwich at Hermit’s Rest snack bar. It is all what makes this place so indelible in the mind of anyone who has ever stood in The House of Stone and Light.

My visiting friends had never seen anything quite like the Grand Canyon. When we stood at Mather Point, in the noon transition, the sun was high overhead and they had to position themselves carefully, so as not to be photographed in shadow, as happened yesterday in Sedona’s Tlaquepaque. They were awestruck, for several minutes. Then they looked right and left,, and decided that walking in the relative heat would not reveal anything different from what they were already seeing. They asked to head back to the car.

This is what they saw.

Mather Point 1
First view of the Grand Canyon
Mather Point 2
Staying close, at Canyon’s edge

There is a unique collection of sandstone rocks, arranged at the approach to Mather. One of these is a menhir, evocative of Carnac or Stonehenge.

Mather's menhir
Bobot and Thelma meet a Standing Stone

It was lunch time, and being frugal sorts, my friends vetoed any meals in the Park itself. We opted for the simply-titled We Cook Pizza and Pasta, in nearby Tusayan, and shared a Classic Cheese pizza. It’s been a long time since I have actually enjoyed pizza with nothing more than cheese and tomato sauce. Simple was exquisite.

The day was not spent, so I took Bobot and Thelma to Bearizona, a park that lets people view wildlife, including apex predators, from their cars. The wolves and bears did not disappoint. There were also herbivores aplenty-mountain goats, bighorn sheep, deer, elk, reindeer and bison. None of these are prey for their neighbours, who are fed meat provided by the staff. Here are some that we saw, carside.

Bearizona 1
Bearizona’s reindeer

The wolves were curious, but laid back.

Bearizona 2
Curious Lobo
Bearizona 3
Tundra wolf trio

Next, it was the black bears’ turn.

Bearizona 4
Black bears at rest
Bearizona 5
Bathing bruin

The Grizzlies have their own place, well-removed from the road.

Bearizona 6
Grizzly bears at dinner time

Our dinner time came later, as I had a business matter in the interim. No worries-Goldie’s Diner was open until 9, so we ate lightly but well. This week, like most weeks, has been a whirlwind, and time well spent.

The Road to Diamond, Day 132: Red Rock Road

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April 9, 2025, Williams, AZ- The perfect spot, where my friends have stayed for the past two nights, is going to be perfect for another couple this weekend. I have found another Friday night room for Bobot and Thelma, so all is still well.

We headed east and north, this afternoon, after a hearty lunch at Pangaea Bakery. The first stop would have been Jerome, but parking was not available, so Tuzigoot became our spot to try out my camera’s record feature-and my video skills. They need work, to say the least, but here are a couple of fairly post-worthy clips.

Friends enjoying their first visit to Tuzigoot.
This shows the living situation of First Nations people in the Verde River Valley of Arizona, in the Eleventh Century, AD.
The Sinagua people built these units, as part of a settled community.

After exploring Tuzigoot, we headed to the Chapel of the Holy Cross, high in Sedona’s red rocks, at the edge of Schnebly Hill. Here are my friends, at the Peace Marker and in front of the chapel.

Red Rock day trip
Bobot and Thelma at Peace Marker
Front of Chapel of the Holy Cross
Bobot and Thelma in front of Chapel

We made a brief visit to the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park, near Sugarloaf Mountain, on Sedona’s north side. My videography was not suitable for sharing, but the friends seemed to enjoy it.

We capped our Sedona visit with a stop at Tlaquepaque, a crafts and restaurant market, modeled after the open air market of the same name, that graces Guadalajara, Jalisco.

The entry arch at Tlaquepaque
Bobot and Thelma in front of entry arch

As we walked in, a little girl had latched onto a sandal, and was doing her 16-month-old best to show Mom and Grandma that she had mastered the One Shoe Strut. Since it was a display item at a shoe vendor, Mom took it off and put it back on the rack. Oh, the indignity of it all!

We met up with an amalgam of other Filipinos, in front of a coffee and ice cream shop, where I got an Arnold Palmer and the friends, some Gator Aid. We next visited a couple of fountains, and stopped in front of Bell Rock, after which it was time to head out of Sedona, and up the mountain, by way of I-17.

Fountain shot
Bobot and Thelma at a fountain in Tlaquepaque
Bell Rock
Bobot and Thelma at Courthouse Rock, with Bell Rock as backdrop

After a satisfying dinner at My Pita Wrap, in one of South Milton Road’s plethora of mini-malls, we headed here, to the Gateway to the Grand Canyon, and El Rancho Motel-our roost for these two nights. Tomorrow, another couple will be introduced to the South Rim!

The Road to Diamond, Day 131: Camaraderie

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April 8, 2025- I had figured on twelve people attending the Feast of Jalal, this afternoon. Thirteen were present. My Filipino Baha’i friends made ten more spiritual siblings, as we enjoyed a primarily musical devotional. The consultation afterward was equally rich, and we all had a joyful social period afterward.

Later this evening, my hiking buddy joined the three of us for dinner at the superb WZ Asian Buffet. Many such restaurants are touch and go, health-wise, but this one is well-managed and keeps both hygiene and variety of fare in mind. We each had a great meal and another bond was established between my Arizona and Philippines families.

Here are some scenes from other points in the day. (Photos from the Baha’i gathering and the dinner were taken by others, so I will post them as they are shared with me.)

At Air Bnb in Prescott
At Courthouse Square, Prescott (above and below)
At a seriously diminished Lynx Lake

I’m always looking for ways to connect people with one another, across both real and imagined divides.

The Road to Diamond, Day 124: Judgment

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April 1, 2025- I received three unrelated photos from a friend, this evening. There is no context and no explanation; just a puzzle. Maybe that is this person’s idea of an April Fool’s joke. In any case, I pass no judgment on them. They were nice photos, in any case.

People spent the day sending one another outlandish, ludicrous stories. Those who are aware of what day this is, responded with outlandish yarns of their own. It was a good day for such things. Even the stock market told itself everything is pretty much okay. No judgment there; I’ll take the small gains.

There are some judgments that do irk me: The woman with the perfect life, who looks down on mothers with problems; conversely, the “free spirit”, who finds fault with the counterpart who has tied self to a more conventional life; finally, the above-board thug, who makes others toe an untenable line, knowing that when things fall apart, it’ll be the little guys who take the full heat.

Life can be hard. I see those who are struggling, and having been there, I know there is only one way to make things right: Ask how I can be of help, without adding fuel to the guilt fire or toxic liquid to the gallon jug. Expect the person to do something for self, but don’t just sit and watch the writhing, the shaking, the wailing. Know that it is always about more than money, or thoughts and prayers. It is always about heart and soul.

The Road to Diamond, Day 123: Listener

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March 31, 2025- “You are a good listener”, the slow-eating, but very intense gentleman said, after telling me of his experiences with others of my generation. He values the sanctity of his person, and does not like to be touched by strangers. I understand him, being on a milder place on the same autism spectrum than that which he occupies. He thinks at a higher level than many, and has two Master’s Degrees to show for it. I understand him, because Penny was at that same intellectual level. I understand him, also because so many of my students, in later years especially, were those who did not like physical contact.

Yes, my listening skills have vastly improved since the time of my wedding, in 1982. They have gone up, as the level of self-absorption has gone down. It is hard to live in a bubble and be a good listener. It is also lonelier in a bubble, and so I upped my listening game, and became the happier for it. Working as a counselor helped in that regard. One cannot counsel and live in a bubble. One cannot counsel effectively and hold onto outmoded concepts of hierarchy and discipline. A hard taskmaster does not often listen well, having all the answers-in own mind.

Working with the homeless is just one of the tools that has honed my listening skills. Spending quality time with both liberals and conservatives impels careful listening; discernment. Doing a variety of activities, broadening thinking, cements the concepts of which I hear. Then, too, I listen to my own inner voice, and to the spirit guides who tell me things in the quiet “alone hours”.

I am delighted to be viewed as a listener. It shows that there is a need for my presence.

The Road to Diamond, Day 122: The Value of Love

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March 30, 2025- In reflecting further on King Lear, which I experienced last night, for the first time since studying the tragedy, as a high school senior (57 years ago), it was showcased as another example of the primacy of love, and the ultimate futility of scheming and power-seeking, through external means.

This morning, a fellow diner at breakfast spoke of a young relative, who had been disaffected from her own mother and siblings. The young woman is welcomed by this person and spouse, and not subjected to judgment, but rather a loving home-which has its rules of order, but not strictures of stifling.

I have made a lot of progress in that regard, with any difficulties for which I was responsible in the past having largely come from my own self-loathing. The result is that, within my own space, life has taken on a new energy, a stronger hope that, even in the autumn of my life, and into its winter in the decades to come, I will continue to radiate what is deepest in my heart. I have recently had dreams of children who resemble both my son and my daughter-in-law. The children have each stood at the side of my bed and told me they loved me. This may be foreshadowing, or just a reflection of how I would feel towards any grandchild(ren) who enter our lives.

The most important thing, though, is that self-love radiates outward, and touches everyone who comes along. That is something that had to survive a few hard relationships, in the latter part of the 2010s and would have to transcend any setbacks in the years to come, as well. Love, as I’ve said before, is the basis for all else that is.

The Road to Diamond, Day 119: Passages

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March 27, 2025- In a short letter, with two photos attached, I learned that the young adolescent girl from Mexico,whom I had been sponsoring for three years, has left the sponsoring agency’s wing. There is nothing further I can do for the child, save pray, as all contact with her is through the agency.

In her stead, I will sponsor and support a much younger child from a Caribbean nation. The differences between the two girls could not be more stark. The first was content to stay at home and tend her younger siblings, or so she said. The second is a self-starter, inquisitive and studious, with eyes full of sass. I look forward to seeing just how far she will go in life.

In my own space, I had a spot on my face treated with cold nitrogen, this afternoon. It will need to be evaluated in three months’ time. Another spot will be surgically removed, next Wednesday. I have borne a scar or two, previously, so I am not worried. It’s better to be rid of the spot, before it becomes cancerous.

The country is going through a passage or two. Indeed, the planet is experiencing changes not seen in over 80 years. Some events are actually more reminiscent of the so-called Dark Ages, when kings, lords and other nobles ran roughshod over the masses. Back then, however, those multitudes were uneducated. Nowadays, any chicanery or deception is occurring because the people are, by turns, tired, distracted or complacent. There has rarely been a time when so many are willing to accept whatever is told them. This, though, will not continue in perpetuity. Abraham Lincoln’s admonition, about not fooling all the people all the time, will be brought to bear-as it was after the Watergate scandal and hopefully in just as civilized a manner. We do not need either another Civil War or a mass uprising, as happened in 1968, after the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. or in 2020, after the death of George Floyd. At some point, the seemingly defanged Congress will need to assert itself and prevent the “correction of overspending” from becoming an overreaction all its own. It will need the support of the judiciary, and of several other institutions.

The point should never be to excuse excess in one direction, but to ensure it is not replaced by excess in the opposite way.

The Road to Diamond, Day 117: Genres

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March 25, 2025- There it was, placed proudly on the choir room wall: Periodic Table of Music Genres, an outgrowth of the famous chemistry table. It reflects the steady growth in both the sharing of musical styles across national and cultural boundaries, as well as the fusion of those styles.

In my childhood days, it was viewed by many as a travesty to mix say, jazz with classical or country music. Duke Ellington and several others interpreted even the oldest of classical music, anyway. It is something that I have come to appreciate, as an adult. The great Big Band musicians redid orchestral classics, even Baroque, with grace and style. Today, every genre can be interpreted by every other genre, and many can be fused with others.

My task today was simply to monitor the guitar and choral classes, making sure they actually practiced their pieces. While getting teens to practice can be a chore in itself, most of the students spent thirty minutes, at least, either in groups or individual work. When given the choice of pieces, they showed quite a range of interests-from Heavy Metal to Country; Grunge to World Music.

Here is a compendium of musical genres, by style and by region. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_music_genres_and_styles. In order to illustrate, here are two very different types of musical expression:

Rosa Lee Hill was a Mississippi Hill Country Blues musician. Here she is doing “Roll and Tumble”, in 1967, a year before her death. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_asE8v-Ls60

Next is Indonesian musician Rahayu Supanggah, leading a troupe in Gamelan, a traditional music genre of the Malay Archipelago. (Don’t worry about the “waitress”; just click on the video and enjoy the gamelan.

There is no place on Earth where people have not found a way to express themselves musically. A student reminded me, this morning, that it all originated in people mimicking birds, other land animals and even whales, in some places. Music has come a long way.

The Road to Diamond, Day 116: George Foreman

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March 24, 2025- In the early ’70s, watching heavyweight boxing championships was on par with watching professional baseball or hockey. It was always a group event, mostly involving men. Part of it was about demonstrations of power, but the replays, sometimes 4 or 5, were about noticing finesse. Muhammad Ali’s body English was the most watched, and re-watched. Later on, there was a group that was drawn to Leon Spinks. For sheer longevity, and evolution of class, though, no one outdid George Foreman.

George came out of east Texas, and the Fifth Ward of Houston. In both environments, he learned the way of the fist-starting off as a mugger, then being steered into boxing. He would become the titan of the 1968 U.S. Olympic Boxing squad, bringing home the Gold Medal and being welcomed into the White House, even as his main competitor, Cassius Clay, was irritating the government with his objections to the Vietnam War. Cassius, of course, embraced Islam and became Muhammad Ali. He and George would fight for the World Heavyweight Championship, and in 1974, George found himself worn to a frazzle by Ali’s antics, including the “Rope a Dope” maneuver of allowing George to push him to the ropes, then rest a bit and come out swinging. George had given Joe Frazier his first loss, a year earlier, thus becoming World Heavyweight Champion. In the “Rumble in the Jungle”, though, Muhammad came out on top.

George, bruised but not beaten, showed the world that “Forty is not a death sentence” and would continue to box professionally, in between serving as an ordained minister and as pitchman for his line of barbecue grills, until 1997. He sired twelve children, by five wives, naming each of his five sons George. This was his way, he said, of leaving a piece of himself for posterity.

He died on Friday, March 21, at the age of 76. His namesakes-and grills- aside, though, George Foreman will long live in the memory bank of anyone who grew up between 1965-87. He lived larger than his boxing skill set and more intensely than his religious fervour. May George be at peace, in the arms of his Lord.

The Road to Diamond, Day 115: Seed Mania

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March 23, 2025- Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve liked edible seeds-when they have been shelled and especially when they are part of say, a muffin or on a bagel. Seeds in fruit are not so enjoyable, but I see their value, in perpetuating life. So, I have learned to set them aside and let them dry-from apples, pumpkins, squash, even tomatoes and peppers, when there is space on the counter. I have planted them, in season. Some years, they produced lots of tomatoes and peppers. Other years, they have made gophers and javelinas very happy.

This afternoon, Prescott Farmers Market and Slow Food co-sponsored Seed Mania, with several kiosks promoting local farmers and their wares. There were several presentations by still other farmers, reportedly marked by spirited discussion among them, regarding each other’s methodologies. There was also plenty for the kids to do, with school garden displays-which they helped to create and fun educational activities that were seed-related.

My spot was mostly manning the Slow Food table, and encouraging new arrivals in the area to sign up for mentoring, by one or another of the local farmers or garden educators. Fifteen such newcomers signed on, many from areas where the growing season and topography are much different from those of this area. It was a revelation that a local garden center was promoting blueberry cultivation. It was NOT a revelation that the bushes produced small, sour berries-if they produced any at all. Apple trees, I have found, don’t produce much in the way of fruit around here, either.

Plants are fairly fussy, and want certain soil, water, compost nutrients and only certain exposure to sunlight, as well as a degree of temperature control. I guess that makes them like other living things, even a bit like us. We each thrive in different environments.