Safety First

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July 29,2024- It was once known as the “Loneliest Highway in America”; not any more.

Several times today, an “intrepid” driver would attempt to pass several vehicles, along Nevada’s long section of U.S. 95. Most had to be let back in, either a third or half-way through the queue, usually with an approaching semi-trailer truck as the impetus. At least the drivers had two things going for them: 1. They weren’t trying to pass on a a double yellow; 2. There was no ad-hoc scold trying to block them from re-entering the line.

Back in the day, we were taught not to try and pass anyone on a two-lane highway, unless there was at least a half-mile of visible clearance: No approaching vehicles on a straight shot; no curves or hills; no animals or road debris. That was still mostly in evidence, yesterday, but there were also the heat (not everyone has quality AC), schedules (“I need to be in Las Vegas by 5 p.m.!”) and cranky family members, who couldn’t be necessarily counted on to be patient until Eddie World, or Circus Circus, was reached. There was also the detour effect: Many travelers were on this route because I-5 and I-84 (the major north-south routes in the West) were closed in spots, due to raging wildfires. So, too was US 395, essentially from Mono Lake northward, due to the smoke from the Park Fire.

My route between Prescott and Carson City has usually followed U.S. 95, with several favoured stops in the routine. They were made today; Breakfast at Red Hut, on Carson’s south side; lunch (which doubled as supper) from Beans & Brews ( a small cafe run by students and staff from Tonopah High School), an ice cream break at Eddie World (Beatty’s answer to Buccee’s) and a gas pit stop at one of three stations in Metro Las Vegas. Others, like wildlife viewing at Walker Lake, checking in at the Alien Store, Amargosa and a meal at Westside Lilo’s, Seligman were foregone.

It has been a rewarding and affirming series of visits, even if not all problems were resolved to the satisfaction of everyone I visited, but life is a process, not an event, and I, albeit an eternal optimist, saw positivity.

Now my focus is largely on Home State matters, on downsizing at Home Base I and making sure all is ready for my 1-2 months across the Pacific.

Frizzle-Frazzle

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June 18, 2024- I saw the word ‘paradise’ on someone’s post, this afternoon, and was moved to play Bruce Springsteen’s “Paradise”, from his album, “The Rising”, his 2002 response to the attacks on September 11, 2001. He sings three verses, depicting three different souls. Yet, when I first listened to the song, I thought of my wife, Penny, even then living under a cloud. Somehow, we’d have one another, for another nine years. She died in 2011.

I have not been triggered by this song, or anything else-not even anniversaries, until today. This afternoon, hearing those words hit me hard. Part of it is the aloneness that I choose, so I can’t point fingers. Yet, it is made harder by the silence.

Silence has always bothered me, after a week or so, from those to whom I feel especially close and after a month or two, from everyone else I love. I guess that’s why I am online so much, especially since Penny passed. It is also why I treasure living in a town where I can walk to where there are people whose companionship I value. Today, it was Planet Fitness and Wildflower Bakery. Other times, it is Raven Cafe, , or Zeke’s,or the Farmers Market -or Rafter Eleven, if I feel like a short drive.

When I was a teen, there was a cartoon about a time traveling wizard who sent his protege to distant places. When it was time for the episode to end, the wizard’s mantra was “Frizzle-Frazzle, Frizzle, Frome, time for this one to come home”. So often, I have faced the “frizzle-frazzle” of grandiose plans falling apart, and have “come home” to reality, with a straight face. I am sensing that my latest grand, feelings-based plans may be “frizzling” and “frazzling”. It’s that silence again. We’ll see, in a few days, or a few weeks.

The Biggest Picture

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June 17, 2024- The first question from friends’ mouths, here in Home Base 1, is not “When’s your next trip?” It is more like “What was your favourite part?” There are several, to which I have alluded here, and am glad to recount again, for those who don’t read this blog. Certainly. time with Mom was priceless. So, too, were visits with siblings and cousins, New England and my little family in Texas. The two visits with the Miqmaq elders in Eskasoni are up there. Making a connection with Kathy’s friends in Newfoundland is huge. Food- in St. Pierre, Twillingate, Botwood, Margaree (NL), Whycocomagh, Shediac, Middleton (MA), Nahant, Downingtown, Ruleville and Grapevine will stay sweetly on my palate.

I was asked further questions about the deeper gratitude. The changes that have been wrought within me, surfacing in the past year or so, are grist for those. I can think more clearly, have more attention to detail, show more methodical work habits and have a better Body Mass Index. What gives? I can’t say enough about the strengthening, deepening of my Faith. Improvement of a diet and exercise regimen has its place. Feeling deeply in love, after thirteen years of widowhood, can’t but help. Deepest of all, however, is self-acceptance, the realization, at long last, that no matter what happens in any of the above areas, I will be okay-or more than okay.

The biggest picture takes me forward, doing the work that I was meant to do, all the way from infancy. Stay around, if you would.

Gratitude, ’24

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June 16, 2024-It was a fine pancake, sausage and scrambled eggs breakfast, this morning. Thank you, American legion Post 6. My gratitude list, though, is both more basic and more complex than a simple meal.

My most essential and enduring gratitude is for my parents-the father I honoured today, and have tried, with varying degrees of success, to live up to; the mother who clings to life, knowing at some level that she is still very much needed. My three siblings, each a testament to their legacy, embody the best of what Mom and Dad have tried to instill in us. Son is a reflection of the best of his late mother, and of myself.

Penny’s spirit, along with my Dad’s-and of her parents, still are my blessed guides, steering me towards the Light, even when fatigue and self-doubt have taken over. I am ever grateful that she led me to the Baha’i Faith, the Teachings of which will continue to sustain me-for all eternity.

I am grateful for all the people I have met, both in the Prescott area, across the continent of North America and across the globe. The lessons learned in the course of both work and travel have helped, at long last, to make me feel the inner strength that was probably inside me all along, and to become a person of value to community and humanity as a whole. All this has brought me to a place of sublime love, which I also suspect has been welling inside me all along. It has made me realize how important friends are; how much I need to show grace, even to those who I might think have turned away; it has made me value a new special person in my life and not want to shy away from , or bury, my feelings towards her.

So, I am grateful for Prescott, for the wider Arizona, the Southwest, the United States as a whole, for North America. I am grateful for Europe and east Asia-particularly for Brittany and Normandy, for Alsace, and Luxembourg, for the Belgian Flanders, for a swath of central Germany, for South Korea and for the Philippines. I am grateful for all I have not seen of this world, and for the friends there, who faithfully read my posts and show their love in different ways. I am grateful for opportunities to serve- and for those who serve me.

May this sense of gratitude continue to grow, in this special year of getting away from comfort zones, and in the years yet to come.

Mending Fences

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June 15, 2024- The sun came up, fierce and hot, on this first day of relative time off. There is still the work to be done here at Home Base I, yet nothing will draw me out of state until mid-July, unless I get that call from Massachusetts.

I had the honour of spending a couple of hours sharing stories of life, and thoughts, with someone with whom I thought I had fallen out of favour. No such thing had happened, as it turns out. The Red Cross booth drew passing attention, and one person wanted to have smoke detectors installed. Mostly, though, it was just M T and I, sharing stories of our departed spouses and of those who have won our hearts, more recently.

It was a joy to get back, a short time later, to Farmers Market. My good friend M M told of her own brief time away, which does my heart good, and I offered to help for a few hours each day, clearing the area around her forever home. That offer will stand, for the month or so that I am here, as well as in August, which also will mostly be spent around HB I. The young people who run the Market were glad to have me back, albeit only for few weeks.

After a few hours of rest, it was time to head over to a place from which I had banished myself, for a couple of years now: Synergy of Sedona. S R had sent me an invitation to the Saturday evening portion of their 6th Anniversary celebration, so it was time for self-imposed exile to come to a close. It was an entertaining mix of genres, on the stage: Jazz, folk, spoken word and poetry slam-even a comedic recounting of a lady’s post-divorce westward “drift” , as she put it. The plea for a “divorce shower” was half in jest, half in earnest; and you know, it makes perfect sense. When someone’s life is completely upended, why not a life change registry? I had plenty of help, after Penny passed on, but a divorcee’ ,oftentimes, only encounters the Wall of Shame.

The feeling I got from S R, though we only spoke in greeting, was that whatever it was that transpired, two years ago, had long since flowed into the ocean of bygone and had sunk to the bottom. I may not beat a path to Sedona, all that often, but knowing the door is open does my heart good. Mended fences can stay up.

Camp Notes, Day 2

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June 8, 2024, Bellemont- “Life is tough; but you are tougher.” So says the logo on one of the campers’ t-shirts. This pretty much some up this group of campers, and though they are uniformly respectful and helpful to us, the staff, it is clear that many of them have been through quite a life, already. That is what draws them to this faith-based camp. Even those who are church-goers say they are looking for something further, in their spiritual quest.

So, they are engaged in both scriptural study and in developing communications skills-“Don’t run from a conversation”; “Engage, no outrage” and “Be the grace you want to see” are phrases I’ve heard tutors and animators use, these past three years. A troupe of budding Afro Beat dancers is among the campers, and there is no shortage of potential basketball stars, both male and female. Every key “racial” group is represented here and yet there is no conflict, no seething anger. Acceptance of rules is the norm, though it is also accompanied by questioning. These are, after all, teenagers.

Staff is uniformly competent, to the point that, besides handling sudden requests from campers and tutors, I have relatively little to do, during the day. I have taken on the role of primary dish washer, and function as security, making sure whatever needs to be locked, gets locked. Lights go on and get turned off. It is a combination of “staycation” (“praycation”?) and collective grandparenthood.

The weather has not been as hot as predicted, but that may change by the middle of this coming week. Stay tuned.

The Heat

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June 5, 2024- I read, a few days ago, about the “green glacier”-a euphemism for the growth and spread of junipers, also called red cedars, across a wide swath of tall-and-short-grass prairie, from north Texas to North Dakota. Trees are also spreading in the Canadian prairies, but more by design, and with less adverse effect.

Adverse effect? On the environment? From tree planting? Well, it seems that too many trees, in an area that is historically steppe, can serve to do things like darken the ground and make it hard for CO2 to escape back into the atmosphere. Too many trees can, in the view of some environmentalists, actually exacerbate global warming in the Plains states. My own view is that we hardly need to replace tall and short grasslands with forests, but that some forests are a good addition to the Prairie. I have hiked in small forests, in the Dallas area, when visiting my little family. On a torrid July day, being in the woods is never half bad-with proper bug repellent keeping insects and arachnids at bay and sunscreen/headgear on, for good measure, just as I would do anywhere else. I have, likewise, enjoyed outings all up and down the Great Plains, in forested areas.

Heat is here, at Home Base I-with June usually being the hottest, driest month of the year-closely followed by the post-monsoon portion of September. June Gloom doesn’t exist, this far inland, but we do share September Swelter with southern California. The high summer months are actually tempered, somewhat, by monsoon rains-at least here in the Central Highlands and in the mountains north and east of here.

I am fine, though, with ceiling fans, a window box A/C, plenty of water and an Amish drying rack for my clean clothes, freshly washed in cold water. Stay cool, calm and collected, wherever you are-and may humanity keep getting a handle on global warming.

Eastbound and Back, Day 37: Convenience

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June 4, 2024- There was a fair amount of activity in downtown Winslow, as I approached my favourite spot there: Relic Road, which is also called Sipp Shoppe. The place is another of those that just has a relaxed and welcoming vibe, so being time for lunch, I stopped in for a bit-and was revived, somewhat, for the drive down mountain to Camp Verde and on back here to Home Base I. Of course, I pulled over, about ten miles shy of Happy Jack and took a power nap, but between the two, lunch and rest did the trick. Journey # 1 of 2024 is a wrap.

A day or so ago, I got a text from one of the other volunteers at Solid Rock soup kitchen, asking if I would be there that night. I was still in northwest Texas, at that point in time, and so, just fed him my schedule and the next time I would be on the serving line. June is Arizona-centric, but somehow not a whole less busy. Tomorrow, I head downtown and join another Baha’i to meet with our Congressman’s staff, regarding the situation of the Baha’is in Iran, who as readers know, are being actively persecuted by some in positions of power in that country.

Friday starts 8 days at Bellemont, a Baha’i facility west of Flagstaff, where I will oversee the camp operations for a gathering of Youth (ages 16-20). This will be the largest event I have run, since the Red Cross shelter in Watsonville, a year ago in April. As was the case then, a wonderful, competent team is in place, so all issues that arise will be ably handled.

There are other activities this month, and for some reason, they all fall on Saturdays. My presence at Farmers Market’s breakdown, therefore, will be negligible, until August. That raises the issue of inconvenience. What is a chance to be useful to one person or group takes away from others. Solutions? There are a few-and I started with gentling reminding myself that there are 80,000 + people in this mini-Metro. Any presumption that an event will fail because I am not there is an ego trip that is best nipped in the bud. My friends know my heart, and will be able to carry on just fine when life takes me elsewhere.

We are not here to be creatures of convenience to others, but only are here to do the best we can, when and where we can be there. The flip side, of course, is to not be in the way-as I assured someone I love especially dearly, this evening, regarding time I will spend in and around her area, in the Fall. Life is an unending series of carefully choreographed dances, unending focuses of attention, that require careful judgment, as to when to engage and when to stand back. As my mother taught us, “It’s not about ME”.

Albert Camus, in his essay on the myth of Sisyphus, makes the summation: “What counts is not the best living, but the most living.” I would go one further step: What counts is the most of the best; the latter meaning Offering one’s own best, in the most situations.

Eastbound and Back, Day 36: Replenishment Alerts

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June 3, 2024. Moriarty- The world is not so much finite, as it is a place of temporary systems. Each system has its unlimited aspects, each can only hold so much, at any given time. A stomach can only hold so much food; a cerebrum can only focus on so many thoughts, at any given time; a bladder can only hold so much fluid; a bank or credit union can only hold so many accounts; a border station can only process so many visitors, properly, on any given day-and so on.

Eventually, any given lack can be replenished. Any given problem, no matter how novel, can be solved. So it is, that I focus my energies on meeting some expenses as they occur, paying others in advance and making provisions for the maintenance and replenishment of my savings, however much they may be temporarily be needed in the interim. So it is, that I schedule time at Home Base I, no matter that I might be called away again-as is the case this weekend and next week, as well as in the second half of July-and in the Fall. So it is that time is set aside for health-related check-ups, and regular cycles of exercise, diet and rest, as a means of avoiding serious illnesses down the road.

Today was a long drive-from Grapevine (Home Base II) across a vast swath of northwest Texas and eastern New Mexico, to this favoured way station, roughly 30 minutes east of Albuquerque. I did not stop to visit friends along the way, because it is a workday and because I need to focus on choreographing the rest of my week rather tightly. A surprisingly nice lunch, at a Pilot Travel Center, in Rhome, TX and a few stops for refueling along the way, made the whole day flow. This coming Wednesday until Friday of next week is a busy time, mostly for faith-based activities. “To whom much is given, much is expected.”

Eastbound and Back, Day 34: Taking Stock

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June 1, 2024, Grapevine- The new apartment, Home Base II, is a tad smaller, kitchen and living room-wise, than its predecessor, but my little family is happier-which is all that counts. I am as comfortable here as I was on the other side of Grapevine Mills- a testament to the serenity that Aram and Yunhee have with one another. True to form, we dined in nicely, for all three meals and I joined them on a shopping journey, this evening. Sushi was for dinner and a Korean comedy followed, starring the actor Don Lee (Lee Dong-seok), a bilingual actor who is well-known in both South Korea and Los Angeles, for playing tough guys with hearts of gold. This one had Don as a would-be arm wrestling champion, who has to face down small time mobsters-a piece of cake, this being a comedy.

June has ever been a month of transition for me: It was the month when I got married, went on pilgrimage to the Baha’i Holy Places in Israel, both 42 years ago. It was in June, that my father passed, 38 years ago. I graduated high school this month, 56 years ago, and joined the U.S. Army, a year later. So, June has become my time for taking stock and making whatever adjustments that may need to be made, in life and lifestyle.

In a few days, I will be back in Prescott, Home Base I. There are already appointments and commitments set for several days this month, most intensely the management of a youth camp, in Bellemont, for eight days, starting next Friday. A visit to our Congressman’s office awaits, followed by a visit to my chiropractor- though not because of what might happen that morning. Our Red Cross meeting comes a day later, and I will serve as Blood Ambassador, on June 20, then help with a Slow Food event on June 22.

In the background, though, is a family situation that may trump all of the above. We just take the matter one day at a time. It is the Hands of the Almighty now. Life in the wider world will always go on, regardless of what we face as individuals, or as families.

Perhaps the biggest change, long-term, is in how I am called to serve humanity. I have spent much time on the road, these past thirteen years, feeling that my time was best spent in one place or another. There remain, this year, a road trip to British Columbia, via the Pacific Northwest, and visits with friends, one in particular, and service activities in the Philippines. East Africa had been on the itinerary, until security concerns (relative to a transit stop in west Asia) prompted the airline to scrub the flight.

Extensive solo travel, and solo life, may well be coming to an end, with the above journeys. That’s all I feel it prudent to say for now, but I feel a change in the wind. One day at a time, dear Lord, one day at a time.