September 2, 2014, Prescott- I will do my level best, in an hour or two, to write about Heidelberg.  It’s a storybook town, which has also given the world a great deal.

Right now, though, my heart is heavy. I have read a lot of thoughts expressed by someone about whom I have come to care deeply. I have thought a lot about that person, and about others, for whom I also have come to care deeply, over the past few days. Our lives follow different paths, and are unlikely to naturally converge anywhere other than through our online exchanges of ideas. It’s similar with my real time friends. Each of us has either a full schedule, or is top heavy with self-initiated projects and activities. Being semi-retired, in terms of employment, I am in the latter category.

My heart is heavy, not because of any of the people for whom I care. The weight comes from knowing that the world, right now, is divided, in terms of leadership, between those who hate and would ravage their fellow people and those who are indifferent, dithering and self-absorbed. It seems that only the Pope in Rome, and a smattering of Heads of State, have not subscribed to one or the other of the above categories.

My heart is heavy because of the lack of concern for the common man. It has always been so, however. The Bystander Effect is well-documented, throughout history. Now, however, we see the Bystander Effect emanating from the highest levels of power. Abraham Lincoln, tired as he was and conventional as his thinking often was, nevertheless recognized his power to do what was best for the common man, and for posterity- and he pulled himself together, left what passed for his comfort zone, and did it.

Franklin D. Roosevelt overcame his antipathy towards Jews, his relative apathy towards Blacks and poor Whites and the self-loathing that stemmed from his crippling disease- and did what was best for humanity, both at home and abroad.

Winston Churchill snapped out of his fear-driven depression, scrapped his written letter of surrender to Hitler, and sent the British Lion roaring, alongside the American Eagle, into the maw of German power, rendering it useless.

We are in the year of the miasma- a river of blood in the Levant and Mesopotamia, a swelling of viruses in West Africa, a puffed-up would-be Czar for our times testing the resolve of his neighbours, whilst projecting his self-image of invincibility upon the world. The response of our leaders is to dither, to equivocate, and to project an image of indifference.

Perhaps my heart is heaviest, though, when I read, see or hear hateful comments by adults directed towards children. There seem to be a spate of these lately. I’m not talking about overwhelmed, put-upon mothers, who need, and richly deserve, relief. I am not talking about people trying to impart character to impressionable souls, occasionally slipping and using coarse language. I am talking about those who have forgotten what it was like to be a child, who are so wrapped up in their own experiences, casual relationships, accumulation of wealth, that any intrusion upon these is grounds for retribution. Those who would ban public breastfeeding, no matter how discrete; who would physically beat a child- or better yet, kill the “little beast”; those who yell at parents for bringing their children onto a public conveyance; those who gaze at images of little people being coerced into sexual activities- and worst of all, those who buy and sell children, for whatever nefarious purpose they have in mind. I could sloganeer, and shout that there is a “War on Children”. Hyperbole, though, does next to nothing to improve a situation, in the Age of the News Cycle.

No, we just need to recognize the overall miasma- The tide of indifference that runs through the arteries and veins of too many. We need to shout but one word: ENOUGH!; then we each begin to turn back the tide.

September 1, 2014, Prescott-  This is one of two breaks from my travel-oriented posts, which I will post today.  I will also post two travel-oriented posts, so there is a balance.

Today, being Labor Day in the U.S., I found there was much going on down in Courthouse Square, mainly in the form of vendors selling food, music and art.  I picked up a pair of moccasins, at a bargain price, which would have made my late friend, Mike, very proud.  I also had salad and pizza at Bill’s, one of six excellent pizzerias within walking distance of my home.

As always happens on the first of the month, I thought out what was ahead, in September.  My mother, and two siblings, have birthdays this month, and the 30th would have been Penny’s 60th birthday.  I have a Red Cross walk, in Tempe, this coming weekend.  There are anniversaries (passages of YEARS, not MONTHS or WEEKS) coming on the 13th, followed by Empty Bowls on the 14th.  A business convention will find me in Salt Lake City on Sept. 18-20th, with a day’s drive on either end.   The following weekend is- unbooked.

Here in the north, September brings the autumnal equinox, a symbol of harvest, of fruition.  Down Under, there is the vernal equinox, a symbol of beginnings, of new life.  I tend to begin to take stock of things in September, and even more so in November/ December, the time of both my personal new year, and of the Gregorian end of year.  A year ago, I was re-learning what love was and was not.  Now, I am under no illusions and live behind no veils.  The love of my life is still very present with me, spiritually.  It is not necessary for me to seek anyone else.  That’s a good thing, because I am, at 63, no one else’s idea of a bargain.

Next month, I will be meeting my son and his ship, in a transitory port, and sailing with them to their home port. This will be my longest time in a sailing vessel, but my spatial needs have always been minimal, so it’ll go well.  September and its little sister, October, always seem to bring surprises with them, so maybe a whale or two will show up alongside the bow of the ship.

 August 16, 2014, Prescott- I will continue with my posts on Europe tomorrow.  They are sparsely read, anyway, so this is a good time to switch gears.

As always happens when there are events that hit close to home, I’ve done a lot of reflecting this week.  Tonight, I watched a film about the human brain.  That’s all I’ll say about the film, for now.  I have also done a lot of thinking about which direction my life should take.  That’s still up in the air.  These things are clear:

Prescott, and my current residence, are good places, and will suffice for now.  I have a lease that’s good until April, and my term as American Legion Post Chaplain runs until June.

Work has dried up, with the public schools, but I give it until December, to see which way the wind is blowing.  Small minds tend to call the shots, in many places, oddly enough, especially when it comes to forgiving small slights.

I have two commitments out of state, this Fall:  A business convention in Salt Lake City, in September and meeting my son in Honolulu, and possibly following him back to San Diego, in October.  Once those are finished, I will look to the area’s charter schools, for a fresh start with substituting or helping out in a classroom.

The other night, I had a vision of what I might do next.  With the world the way it is, I’m not going to get too specific, but it involves a slogan, for which I could get a trademark.  I could use this to do some good, and follow my heart.

These things have been running through my mind, the past couple of days.  I have a lot of good friends, of all ages and both genders, and I know the true ones will be on my side.  I’m not concerned about a relationship.  At my age, and income level, it is secondary, anyway.  I want, most of all, though, to do more good, on  a wider level, than attending meetings and being on someone’s “IGNORE” list.  It’ll get done, because I was not left here to stagnate.

Thanks for reading this.