Heave-Ho

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June 19, 2023- The bags went into the landscaper’s trailer quite fast, and two at a time. Two of us managed to clear one pile and add 1/4 of the other, some it dry yard waste and some rather wet refuse from the kitchen. We got to the landfill in about thirty minutes, at which point the driver went through a learning curve about Landfill Etiquette. His documents were accepted, but it took just a little explanation of the protocol for dumping and re-weighing an empty vehicle. We then drove out to the dump site and reversed the process-emptying the trailer. The same process played out, one more time, rinse and repeat. It was a bit warmer, and the bags heavier, but we managed quite well.
Two men, working with a purpose, got a task, which many said needed four pairs of hands, done in two hours, driving 22 miles each way.

Others, in several other places, chose to act out-using what is becoming the default method of solving problems, in too many instances. In Willowbrook, IL; George, WA; Lewistown, PA; St. Louis; Carson, CA; Baltimore; Kellogg, ID; Philadelphia; San Francisco and Milwaukee, people were slain-“for reasons unknown”. It could have been a domestic disturbance, or someone who had a bad childhood lashing out at others celebrating Father’s Day, or someone angry at the Juneteenth holiday. It could have just been someone deciding to kill for the thrill.

We did our share of heave-ho, this morning. It’s time for another sort of heave-ho: Stop making excuses for people who use guns to solve their problems. I know a good many who own guns, and use them properly; some are lifelong friends and some are family members. They would not think of taking their frustrations out on the lives of others. They would not make their weapons available to misfits or to the immature. It is time to demand an end to giving firearms to the mentally ill, in the name of the Second Amendment. It soils the dignity of that document and tarnishes the very term “American”. It is time to stop putting profits-or ideology, before human lives, in both this specific area and in a broader sense.

The bigger the problem, the more collective effort is needed. We know this, and yet…..

Their Time Now

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June 17, 2023- In the front yard next door, the co-parented boys run about, with their father’s dog. Rightfully, at 5 and 7, they have not a care in the world. Their father and stepmother see to their needs for 3-5 days at a time and their birth mother does likewise. Theirs seems a full and happy childhood, made all the more so with things like Summer Movies in the Park-with Bouncy Houses, to boot and a wealth of outdoor recreation, now coming back, after a most unfortunate hiatus that seemed to have spanned two or three decades.

A dozen years older than the elder child, the Events Coordinator at Prescott Farmers Market gave me gentle but specific direction, as to how she wanted the storage trailer organized. Everything is neatly enough in place as to allow for a roomy feel to the unit. The woman has a clear sense of purpose, part of what sets my heart and mind at ease. The world is in much better hands, going forward, than some of my contemporaries think-at least that’s my own observation.

There are a number of ways in which things have been made better for all of us, with the emergence of leaders from among the Millennial and “Z” Generations: Relationships between men and women are, by and large, no longer one or two dimensional and there is much less adherence to patriarchic thinking-even in the gaming world. People of colour are much more likely to be accepted for the fullness of their personhood. There is more a sense of universal thinking, much of it, granted, due to the Internet and social media, but buoyed by the open mindedness of youth, which is much less likely to be subverted or stifled by “real world” considerations.

I have no problem following directions from people young enough to be my children, or grandchildren. They will lead masterfully, and will learn from their mistakes, without being overly corrected by those of us in the senior generations. That, to me, is most gratifying.

Camp Three, Day Four: An Outpouring of Gratitude

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June 16, 2023, Bellemont- Chef said it is the first time she has ever received a written statement of thanks from campers. I also got one-which complements a similar statement from those sheltered at Watsonville, earlier this Spring. These reflect the love we felt, and as Paul McCartney once sang, in an entirely different context-” And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

The women and girls awoke early; the boys and men were a bit more casual in doing so. Once things got rolling, though, everyone had their bags and items on the ramada- and the buildings were spotless by 10:30. A lot of food was left over, so those of us who will tend to a mountain of bagged refuse, next Monday, will be in good stead. So, too, will the people to whom I help serve food on Monday evening and the chef’s ravens-(they remember a generous human, and will accept food that people can’t).

It is one of the nicest series of activities in which I have ever taken part. This year is shaping up to be one of those in which my true nature is coming forward-and being openly appreciated helps in that regard. Long may this continue, even if there are occasional setbacks and tribulations.

Camp Three, Day Three: Burritos, Enchiladas and Two Kinds of Salsa

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June 15, 2023, Bellemont- The Enchilada Lady called out on her bullhorn: “Comida, AHORA!”, announcing “Lunch, now!” Children and teens filed into the ramada in fairly short order. They chose from among the left-over burritos, fresh enchiladas and quesadillas, which the three mamas had lovingly prepared. There was plenty of salsa-hot and mild, but no beginner stuff. Chef, needless to say, was enjoying this respite-which ended with her spaghetti and meat sauce, this evening.

My day was filled with observing light repairs, helping lift a couple of generators over some rocks and answering whatever questions I could, from the property manager. He seemed generally pleased, overall, with how the camps are going. My instructions for tomorrow’s camp closing are quite clear.

After spaghetti and meat sauce, it was back to salsa. This time, though, it was salsa dancing. The campers and their chaperones swayed, jumped about and worked out any frustrations they may have accumulated-either here or before they arrived. There is much to be said for dance parties. It certainly made their last night at camp a treasure to be savoured.

This is the vibrant life of a connected community. It is why we need the energy of people from the southern part of our hemisphere, the productive, connected energy, that is, a lot more than they need to offer it. The people who are in our midst, for another morning at least, exude love, balance between work and play and a sense of community responsibility for the well-being of all children and youths in their group. They also look out for us, their hosts.

This is how it used to be, when I was growing up-before anonymity, isolation enabled by garage-doors as ingress and egress points and the casting of the chase after security as the primary goal of so many. The neighbours knew one another-often as friends, and they knew us, as if we were their own-because, in a sense, we were. The child who was cared for, who was valued, was less likely to cause trouble.

Here, for another ten hours, is the answer to much of what hurts America so. Here is the counterpoint to that with which so many associate our neighbour nations to the south: A strong family structure, telescoped into a strong community network.

Camp Three, Day Two: Cold Lava Tubes and A Warm Bonfire

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June 14, 2023, Bellemont– The tell-tale thump, after I had loaded the empty propane tanks into Sportage, for a short journey of refilling, turned into a learning exercise in putting together an inflation kit. The kit, when plugged into what used to be the cigarette lighter port, operates from the battery and puts enough air into most tires to get a vehicle to the nearest town-as long as it is not a hundred miles away. Like yours truly, Sportage does not any longer come with a spare tire.

“Town” being Flagstaff, twelve miles away, I managed to get to the Big O Tire outlet and when the service manager noted my long history with that company, my tire was repaired free of charge. Getting the propane tanks refilled was an easy next task.

The campers spent the afternoon in the Kendrick Park Lava Tubes, where they encountered ice-lots of it, on their carefully-picked way down. The tubes are icy and cold, ten months of the year- July and August being the exceptions, before ice re-forms as nights, at least, start to cool again in September. “September Swelter” is less of a thing in the High Country, at least for now.

When they returned, pizza awaited, after a brief period of unwinding. The campers, ranging in age from six to forty-six, were uniformly in awe of the Lava Tubes, having spent 2 1/2 hours picking their way along. After dinner, they rested further and finished the day with devotions, songs and s’mores, around the first campfire I have built in almost thirty years. The basics worked-pine needles on the bottom, then small sticks, short branches and the larger wood on the top. The campers were delighted and the day was another success.

Life itself daily features cold, followed by hot, and vice versa. Cormac McCarthy, who died yesterday, was first known to me through his “No Country for Old Men”- a chilling tale of a psychopathic genius on a mission of mayhem, in west Texas. McCarthy himself was a warm paragon of inspiration to amateur writers like me. His idea of heaven was to sit in a quiet spot and write his heart out. I fully intend to read his “The Road”, next week, as it concerns itself with fatherhood.

The day also featured a side drama, with someone far from here telling me, essentially, that she would show God a thing or two, and her Satan would show his power I calmly observed that Satan is a construct, and while dark energy can wreak havoc, when concentrated in an individual’s mind or in collective action, it has no creativity and no long-term strength. The Divine, the Creative Force, on the other hand, is enduring, is all about creativity and being unknowable, as to Essence, and is far beyond any man-made construct, no matter how appealing that construct may be to a fragile human ego.

People do what they do-and only action based on love will endure.

Camp Three, Day One: Comida Es Mas Deliciosa

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June 13, 2023, Bellemont- The day began at 5 a.m., as I had to leave Home Base to get up here in time for three van loads of campers, who were supposed to arrive at Noon-but something told me they would be here early, and besides, the water delivery truck was due to get here at 9:30.

It was a light traffic day, so I actually stopped at Brewed Awakening for a light breakfast and got here well in time for the delivery-no pun intended. The campers arrive at 11:15 and were able to get oriented and settled before lunch. I also had no trouble getting everything unlocked and set up, while they unwound a bit.

This is a smaller group than anticipated, but it is certainly a well-balanced and well-behaved party of 26. Three mothers accompanied the campers, which helps-as they have a gentle but firm set of expectations of the children, one which matches our own. The mothers also came with a feeding mission. They have a full menu plan, which they will prepare. This brought a smile to Chef’s face. She sat and was content to offer advice about the equipment, when asked.

My task was to run to a store and buy pillows and slips, for ten people. Fortunately, the items were available at a discount. The rest of the time was quite relaxed. As astrological signs point to a lifting of the tension that intermittently bothered many of us, these past five weeks, this first day of a 3.5 day session augurs well for a fairly calm camp.

The best thing about today, though, was the dinner. Red and white enchiladas were accompanied by rice and a rich sauce that resembled Louisiana Red Gravy. Mas sabor y delicioso!

First Camp, Day Six: Adios, But Not Goodbye

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June 7, 2023- Just as Al Martino sang those words to a hypothetical Mexican woman, back in the mid-sixties, I bid farewell to the forty amazing teenagers and adult minders,who have enriched my world, over the past six days. Wedding Anniversary Week has entailed some sort of spiritually-based service, since Penny passed on-and this year was no exception.

The range of humanity was here, in this group: There were Persians, Mexicans, Dineh, New Mexican Land-Grant Spanish, Tanzanians, African-Americans, Moroccans,Filipino-Koreans, Native Hawaiians, and a few of us Heinz 57 hybrids. There was little, if any, tension though. People were forthright about their wants, needs and concerns. Standing and sitting circle sessions, for both prayer and consultation, kept the water of harmony flowing. Small crises, like yesterday’s allergy attack, kept everyone with arms linked. Even a forlorn soul, speaking truth to the group about having felt “prejudice”, couched those remarks in a hopeful frame, looking forward to working towards increased acceptance.

Strong women and girls stood shoulder to shoulder with men and boys. People who are in a journey of discovery about their sexuality and gender identity walked alongside those of us who determined those aspects of ourselves a long time ago. Boomers and Gen-X’ers were readily accepted by Millennials, Gen-Z’ers and Alphas-and vice versa. Autistic people found a place among the neurotypical. This was a microcosm of what lies ahead for humanity.

Once the kids were on the road, I went about sanitizing the bunks, gathering and securing the trash bags, locking up the buildings and making the drive back to Home Base. Gasing up at Maverik, in Williams (The $ 3.50 price range has returned to Arizona!) and gumboing up, at Danny B’s, in Chino Valley, helped me get back in time for a crucial Zoom call.

A short Home Base break will allow for re-focus, before Camp 2 starts, in about 48 hours.

First Camp, Day Four: Overcoming Cold and Dark

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June 5, 2023, Bellemont- The power grid seemed to be playing cat and mouse with the girls and me. One young lady would come to me with a complaint about the lights going off, in their section of the bath house; I would toggle the relevant circuit switch and the lights were back. Five minutes later, I would get a text message from someone else, and go back and toggle again. The process happened a third time. Then, a chaperone reported that the power had gone out in the overflow women’s cabin.

That brought the AHA moment: The cabin in question was connected to the same breaker unit as the women’s bath house and there were three space heaters in use, at the time the power kept cutting off. The solution was to connect the cabin with a less-used circuit. There was no repeat of any outage.

Back in Prescott, a single mother who has fallen on hard times, only partly of her own making, has been messaging me with pleas for help. All I can do, either here or in Home Base, is encourage her to seek legal aid and the help of a social service agency. I will do so, ad nauseam if necessary, until the light shines through. Too often, people in trouble will insist on depending upon individuals to help them, whether psychologically or financially. The first only works when the prospective helper can be focused, in perpetuity many times. The second only works when he/she is both well-oiled and willing t.o share their money. Neither one will work, though, if the challenged soul is buried beneath a pile of victim blankets.

I have been in both situations. Fortunately, my victimhood was cut to pieces by family members who knew just the right combination of Good Cop and Bad Cop. I was out of the hole, within four years-but it took my own determination to get upright and stay that way. Conversely, I have had to be the Bad Cop with three people who came to me for help, would not help themselves, screamed and yelled that I was not solving their problems and ended up being cut off. I saw one of them later and learned he taken charge of his own life. His enablers were gone. Sometimes, rock bottom is what it takes.

No one is entitled to a bed of roses. My life only became good when I was willing to take responsibility for all of it. Teamwork makes things better, yes, and so does a measure of self-reliance-which requires self-respect. Thus may one dispel cold and dark.

First Camp, Day Three: A Spoonful of Sugar

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June 4, 2023, Bellemont- Mom says there are two ways to “draw flies”-honey and vinegar. The first draws more, of course. I will pass on drawing flies, but relating to teenagers is all about figurative honey: Understanding their minds and hearts, paying attention to their words as well as their actions, without butting into their conversations.

A young woman made a reference to someone as “respectfully creepy”. Since I was within earshot and line of sight, and my behaviour has not been “creepy”, and as she is a well-mannered person, I doubt that was a reference to yours truly. It is more likely with regard to one of her peers who is showing unwanted attention. Nonetheless, one must always be mindful of how attention to others is interpreted.

The chef decided, after a low key day that was concerned with study groups and an impromptu volleyball tourney-and little for me to do around campus, that a baked treat was in order. She served up a pan chocolate and butterscotch chip cookie- a bit soft and gooey, but definitely a hit with the campers-and several adult staff. I was the one serving, and for making sure that stragglers and loners got their share, was able to bond with more of the campers.

Millennials came up with the term “I appreciate you”, in expressing gratitude for kindnesses great and small. The succeeding two generations of youth have continued this nice practice, and we oldsters likewise have taken it into our own lexicon.

I draw a lot of strength from being with groups like this one. Camp is rejuvenating!

Where We Go

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May 20, 2023- I met a second cousin only once-long ago, at a family Christmas party. He could not have been more than three years old. Time passed, he became a grown man, most likely a father-and even more likely, did his level best at an honourable line of work. I can’t say for certain, because he died prematurely, a few days ago. His father, who survives him, has done his level best, in an honourable line of work, so there is a lot of hope in that regard.

I have no way to contact my cousin, but if that changes, I would say to him that. in addition to condolences, I know that he was a good parent, as was his wife. We can sense such things from a distance, even with people we never see or hear once separate paths have been taken. We can always tell, knowing even a small amount about struggles and triumphs, how a person’s life has gone, in general.

Today was spent preparing the grounds and buildings for a series of camps that will begin on June 2. The team that I will lead is to provide logistical support for those guiding groups of up to twenty youth or pre-teens. The guidance is not dogmatic, but is moral, ethical in tone. The young people, for the most part, come from disadvantaged families and neighbourhoods; yet they do have a capacity for learning discernment. It is that discernment that changes lives, communities-and even nations.

Where we go in life depends largely on the choices we make. Those choices only work to our advantage, if they are made with discernment, with information, with honest assessment. I am willing to bet that my departed second cousin lived well. God rest his soul.