Popeye Doyle Wasn’t Here

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 19, 2019 in Community, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 3, 2019, Poughkeepsie-

In 1971, I viewed a film called “The French Connection”, a fictionalized account of New York Police Detective Eddie Egan and his work on a case involving a French heroin smuggling syndicate, and their New York associates. Gene Hackman played Egan, using the pseudonym, “Popeye Doyle”. In one scene, Popeye interrogates a suspect in a routine case, asking him “Do you ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?” The suspect is sor attled by Popeye’s pushing the issue that he confesses to the actual crime of which he is accused.

That put Poughkeepsie on the map for me. About a year later, I was given a ride to the town, by some frat boys from New Paltz State University, which lies northwest,across the Hudson River. Poughkeepsie didn’t impress me as a place where people would travel, to engage in weird behaviour, but one never knows.

I stopped here to get a glimpse of how the town was faring now, after reading how it is being compared with Newburgh, a few dozen miles to the south. Both are viewed by some New Yorkers as down-at-the-heels, miniature versions of the city’s own crime-ridden neighbourhoods.

I found Poughkeepsie to be in a slightly better state, right now, than Newburgh-at least with respect to its downtown area. It is a somewhat bigger city, and serves as the commercial hub of the Mid-Hudson Valley.

As in Newburgh,I focused on the architecture and the city’s relationship with the river.

The first two photos below show a Nineteenth Century building, which may have been originally used as a mental hospital. It is now a Seventh Day Adventist church- a far cry from its original use. It still left me with an eerie feeling.

Walking downhill, towards the Hudson, my attention was grabbed by two things: This mural which occupied both sides of the street, under an overpass and a rough-looking man, struggling with his equally rough-looking dog, which wanted to walk in the middle of the busy street. Twice, both man and beast were almost done in by cars which were not going all that fast. Somehow, the approach of a police car empowered the man to get control of his pet. My attention went back to the mural.

That is what I wish to see in the struggling towns of the Mid-Hudson-and in all struggling communities. The talent and drive are here. They have, for some reason, not been tapped.

The future doesn’t necessarily need to look like this Victorian-era resort, across the river in Highland, but it starts with bright minds etching their dreams, the way the muralists did in the above scenes.

This bridge takes people to and from Highland, eight miles southwest of New Paltz and its university. That is a short distance that, for people like the young man I met in the Waterfront Park, seems like a million miles. He wasn’t happy standing and staring at the cement whale that lies near the playground, but it seemed to him to be safer than being downtown.

There is, for those who see a way to self-expression, a vibrant drama and dance scene, based in Cunneen-Hackett Arts Center.

Making beautiful noise, and painting in bright colours, are what get a community started in building a mindset of recovery and moving towards prosperity. Handouts, which the young man in the park most certainly did NOT want, will only extend the misery. I have hope for Poughkeepsie.

NEXT: A Bit of the Southern Berkshires

The Two Faces of Newburgh

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 18, 2019 in Community, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 2, 2019, Newburgh , NY-

One of the things I often find myself doing, when going back and forth across the continent, is spending at least a few hours in a town or city that is struggling with a variety of social ills, yet still manages to keep a semblance of what made it tick. Newburgh, in the middle Hudson Valley, is one such place.

I spent last night, and this morning, in Oley, PA, at the home of friends who operate Glick’s Greenhouse. It’s always a pleasure to stop there, with a house full of people and one sometimes grouchy greenhouse dog. When I was about to leave, after breakfast and lunch served up by a budding eight-year-old chef, the proprietor of the Greenhouse showed me some of his nephew’s latest blossoms.

The evening brought me to the Hudson Valley, and Newburgh. I made the choice to focus on the Inner City, thus spending the night at Imperial Motel, which has seen better days, though still home to some of the most regal people on Earth. A wander about the downtown area showed both early 20th and contemporary 21st Century architecture.

The City Courthouse is a busy place. Newburgh is said to be the murder capital of New York State, so it isn’t a place for the distracted or the unwary.

There are plenty of safe havens, though. These two churches signify the legacy, and the promise, that exists in places like Newburgh, and its upriver cousin, Poughkeepsie (more on it, in the next post).

I spent a little time, here and there, along Newburgh’s Riverfront, with plenty of locals celebrating the majesty of the Hudson-and a few signs of decay in spots.

Here is a view of a crossing, from south of Newburgh.

Looks like the boat might need some work.

Nonetheless, there is an enduring charm about the great river and its banks.

From this area of Newburgh’s waterfront, several ferries take people across the Hudson, to Beacon.

I took a walk, from Imperial to a small “spa”, which is another term in the Northeast for a convenience store. The dour South Asian proprietor took no crap from any of the young men who cam in and out, basically trying one scam or another. I got my coffee, treated everyone politely, while walking with confidence and had no trouble. Then again, it was broad daylight. Most trouble here seems to come from domestic disputes, and in a city where too many men have lost hope, that violence comes all too easily.

Up on the bluffs heading out of town, there is a far different ambiance. This Korean-American establishment offers one mindset that is the basis for solving many social ills: “We are one family.”

NEXT: Poughkeepsie, without Popeye Doyle

A Capitol’s Quiet Hour

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 13, 2019 in children, Community, Historical, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 30, 2019, Raleigh-

Perhaps in a moment of selfishness, I chose to head to North Carolina’s Triad region, specifically to the Capitol, rather than to the west central area, north of Charlotte. This, though, is what my spirit guides were telling me was in order.

I found Raleigh in a quiet and pensive collective mood, whilst walking about the Capitol District on this morning, when many were engaged in acts of worship. I pretty much had the area to myself.

The great museums would not open until noon, by which time I was getting my laundry done, in south Raleigh’s International Market, a haven for the area’s Hispanic community.

Part of the Tar Heel story is told on the Museum of History’s grounds. The frame of a Catawba home is here, surrounded by the lushness of the Piedmont.

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North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences takes up the right flank of the Museum Quarter.

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The North Carolina Museum of History occupies the left hand side.

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Three figures greet the visitor to the Museum of History: A woman of Sauratown, Thomas Day and Frederick Augustus Olds. Sauratown is an isolated mountain region, northwest of Winston-Salem. The independence of area residents is commemorated by this statue of an unidentified woman. Thomas Day is celebrated as an example of how much a free Black man could achieve. He was a skilled cabinetmaker, of the Antebellum period. Frederick Augustus Olds, a journalist, was a relentless advocate of telling North Carolina’s story, especally of “human history” and of the advancement of both Boy and Girl Scouts.

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Here is the Promenade, in its fullness.

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North Carolina is the birthplace of three U.S. Presidents: Andrew Jackson, James Knox Polk and Andrew Johnson. They may not be the favourites of many people, but each pursued and achieved his goals. The State Capitol looms in the background.

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Here are more complete views of the State Capitol.

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This statue depicts a naval cadet, of the late Nineteenth Century. A woman passing by with her young daughter remarked to the child that it must have been most uncomfortable to have to wear such garb, in the heat of a Carolina summer.

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This bell tower, of First Presbyterian church, is framed by the Memorial Garden of the Harden family.

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At the opposite end of the Promenade, near the Natural Sciences Museum, is this statue depicting the naturalist Rachel Carson, listening to a story being told by a young boy. She was passionate about educating the young, as to the dangers posed by excessive chemical use, in the mid-Twentieth Century.

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My time with the Hispanic people showed that the Tar Heel tradition continues to promote the achievements of the individual, over a mass ideological swell. May that ethic long continue.

NEXT: Virginia’s Eastern Shore

The Turnstile Island

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 12, 2019 in Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

June 29, 2019, Charleston, SC-

It was a still, warm day, even on the water, as the Noon ferry headed out of Charleston Harbor, towards Fort Sumter. The hundred or so tourists and Park Service staff who were aboard were a far cry from the angry men who stormed Fort Sumter, after firing on the supposedly impregnable island fort, on April 12, 1861- the opening shots of the American Civil War.

The fort was one of those which had been built as a response to the glaring lack of coastal defense, during the War of 1812. Thus, it is ironic that Fort Sumter should have been the symbol of oppression, to many in South Carolina, and that it would change hands three times, during the Civil War’s progression. Built with three stories, to convey the image of indestructible fortress, it was leveled by bombardment and was turned into an earthwork, by Confederate defenders, between 1861-63.

I have had Fort Sumter on my to-go list, since 2007, when we made a family “virtual field trip” journey, for Penny’s University studies. We never made it to Charleston, among other places. Now, though, the scintillating city. and Fort Sumter, were on my blog-topic itinerary..

Here are some scenes of the ferry route and of the Fort. The park’s office and waiting area are adjacent to the South Carolina Aquarium, just north of downtown Charleston.

Whilst waiting for the Noon ferry, I happened upon East Bay Deli, on a row of eateries, three blocks south of the Aquarium. It is a perfect spot for a full line of made-to-order delicatessen foods.

Below is a scene of Castle Pinckney, a small fortress from which Confederate forces harassed Union Naval vessels.

This sand spit is used by Charlestonians as a private beach, and is not part of Fort Sumter.

The first sight we saw, after the Ranger Talk, was of these cannon portholes.

Here is one of the entrances to the lower breastworks.

A full view of the cannon ports faces east.

Sea shells were used to reinforce the mortar, during the fort’s repairs in 1862.

The cannon portholes are sometimes shut

and sometimes open.

The cannon was always at the ready.

The supports of the upper stories still remain, in several parts of the fort.

For the person who has done everything, there is this:

My money still needs to go elsewhere, but there it is. This is one such cannon that has been adopted.

Finally, here is a Howitzer, used by the Confederates, during their defense of the fort, in 1863. The Union forces won that battle and retained control of the island, thereafter.

Fort Sumter reinforced my view of the folly of war, when pursued as a means to safeguard ideology or narrow self-interest. We have far more in common, as human beings, and thankfully have come a fair distance in viewing others in a positive light, since the Nineteenth Century.

NEXT: Raleigh’s Capitol District

Staying Independent

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 5, 2019 in children, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 4, 2019, Saugus-

I will continue (go back to) my photo blogs, in the next few posts. Jumping ahead to the Fourth of July just seems best, though.

I had a conversation with someone very close to me, during the family gathering at a niece’s home, this afternoon. One thing rings very loud and clear, from this discourse and from other conversations I’ve had, these past few months: Many people are feeling put upon by aggressive individuals and groups, who take a point of view opposite that which they happen to hold. Many individuals and groups ARE resorting to the use of force, when confronted with those taking such opposite viewpoints.

I was raised to hear other people out. My parents, social conservatives, made a great effort to understand even the most seemingly ludicrous viewpoints. I have maintained an open mind, as a result, throughout fifty-six years of adolescence and adulthood. Civil Rights have long been a matter of supreme importance in my life, and that cuts both ways. The Right cannot bully people of colour, of Faiths other than that of the majority in a community, or those living a lifestyle different from that which is conventional. The Left, likewise, cannot deprive people of more traditional bearing, of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Violent behaviour, on either side, is the stuff of fascism (even when the bully calls self “Antifa”)

I am, as it happens, an obstinate soul, when people without authority try to force me to do their bidding. Additionally, I question those who DO exercise authority, as to the ethical basis for their actions. That is what I get from both the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution. That is what I get from my Faith.

So, to my family-my elders, siblings and cousins: You all matter, greatly. Your point of view has at least some validity and is worth hearing, and pondering. Our family is large, so there are all points covered, on the political spectrum. I will not plug my ears to any of it, so long as you do not ascribe to a coda of violence or or a policy of defamation against your opposite numbers.

To my children, nieces/nephews, and “grands”- You are, one and all, a great hope; you are people of immense promise and, especially if you are feeling vulnerable, are worthy of all the support and love that we, your elders, can muster. We cannot spare you from life’s ups and downs, but we can point towards the light. This is the very least we can do, in building and safeguarding your own sense of well-being and independence.

Most of the problems we face, when it comes to intolerance and reactive violence, seem to stem from the violent ones acting out of insecurity. In truth, though, i have to ask, “How does a person expressing an alternative point of view, in and of itself, constitute a threat to my well-being?” It may be annoying, but it is not a threat-unless accompanied by force-which then makes it an entirely different matter.

Staying independent means, to me, that one takes the time to carefully examine issues and evaluating a variety of points of view. It also means extending that right to independence to every one else. These are my thoughts as the Sun goes down on another July 4.

The Home Base That Wasn’t

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 2, 2019 in collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

June 25, 2019, Tryon, NC-

In the gloom of Spring, 2011, I was casting about in my mind, as to where I might plant myself. At the time, I had one immediate goal: To make my way to New Hampshire and attend the wedding of my sister’s youngest daughter- for whose happiness Penny and I had prayed for several years. Other parts of life were in a state of suspension. Though I worked the rest of the academic year, following Penny’s funeral and Aram’s life was slowly coming together, with the Navy on the horizon, I had ME to get settled.

Several locations presented themselves: I could have relocated somewhere else in the metro Phoenix area, or somewhere else where I had family nearby. Then, there were places with no family in the area. One such place, to which I’d never been and of which I knew nothing, was Tryon.

I happened upon this town, whilst en route from Knoxville to Columbia. It was dinner hour, so at long last, I left the highway and found a space for my car. The place seemed magical.

It had been a fairly good day in Knoxville. The East Side was hardly as intimidating as the earlier news reports had suggested. There were troubled people in the room directly below me, but they kept their troubles to themselves and I had a good night’s rest. A nice lunch, a workout at Planet Fitness and a car servicing at Big O all took place across town, and by early afternoon, I was back on the road. If you’re ever in Knoxville and want a good, quick lunch, I recommend “Best Bagels in Town”- a small place, behind a Walgreen’s, just a couple of blocks north of Big O, at 120 S. Peters Road. I promised the owner I’d send a shout out, so here it is: Best Bagels is true to its name.

Back to Tryon: The downtown is compact, with a well-known equestrian resort a few miles further east. I am more of a cozy downtown type, so while resorts are nice and all, give me a small coffee shop/cafe restaurant, any day. One such place is Huckleberry’s.

One of the recurring themes in my life is how much I want for the younger generations to realize their dreams, to succeed-often in spite of the powers that be “moving the goalposts” and recognizing when a young man or woman gets things right.

Georgia got it right, albeit being rather self-effacing and business-like. The sign that Huckleberry’s owner put on the wall says it best:

Georgia did keep busy, though, greeting, seating and doing half the serving. I’ll say it again and again: We Boomers are in good hands, as we hand off the baton.

Tryon has a thing for bears-and for its claim to fame: Horses. The first sight that greeted me, as I parked was a wooden bear.

Horses adorn a couple of spots along Tryon’s two main streets.

This multi-coloured horse is found near the Post Office.

Any town which claims Nina Simone as a Native Daughter has my fullest admiration. A consortium of artists is working to restore the home of her birth.

I chose Prescott, AZ, of course, as my Home Base-largely because it was familiar and the family had property, for the first 3 years of my time there. I will continue to call Prescott my Home Base, until we see where my little family settles, next year. A place like Tryon would not necessarily be out of the question.

NEXT: Fair Columbia

A Few More Reflections

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 30, 2019 in collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

June 24, 2019, Crossville-

I have also had occasion, whilst packing up for the further road, to think about why certain people are more like family to me than others and about just what my role in the scheme of such things actually is.

I am not much for patriarchy-as despite my gathering age, I don’t have all that many of the answers, in my own right. Also, there has never been a time when the women and girls in my life have felt subservient. Groups tend to solve problems, better than do individuals. In order for my various groups to do that, regular communication needs to happen. This little group of three, this weekend, got an aging dachshund through a very uncomfortable bout of the cruds. Greater things require people’s attention, but there is none so heart-rending.

There is,as I alluded in the last post, a lady west of here, who I met on last year’s visit and who I would get to know better, in a heartbeat. There are hundreds, if not thousands of souls I have befriended-if only by electronic means and each means something special-as blood relatives, as surrogate children-and surrogate siblings, and as trusted friends/mentors. My two friends here are high in the sibling category, as well as in the last one. I spend a lot of time thinking about each of you, day and night-which is as much an impetus for my time spent in community work, when at Home Base, and in connecting with so many, when the Road calls.

So, now, I head down to Chattanooga, to see what makes a friend in Wisconsin so enamoured of Ruby Falls- and perhaps check out Rock City, which a couple of friends in the Southeast love.

Reflections By A Small Pond

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 29, 2019 in Assistance, collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

June 24, 2019, Crossville, TN-

I have had a good long while, both in the company of my friends here and when alone, to ponder my relationships, my reactions to things that have come my way and my sense of how the course of civilization is moving.

I am in a steady state right mow, a bit tired, but still lucid. I look at this pond, and see a solid ring of vegetation around it. I see a goodly number of several species of birds. That means the insects, seeds and nuts are prolific. There was a Great Blue Heron that flew by the window, about an hour ago (It’s 8 a.m., CDT). There don’t seem to be any deer around, this year, and only a few coyotes have been spotted.

These things tell me that the land is calling for quiet. My friends can be quite vociferous, inside the house, but are calm and at one with the environment, when outside-other than running a lawnmower, once a week or so. There are runoff issues that need to be addressed-by the wider community. Readers know my position on this: I used no chemical sprays at my Phoenix and Prescott house and refrained from using them when I was maintaining the grounds at the apartment, as well.

I don’t throw noxious substances at my friendships, either. I feel it is best to go with the flow, almost as if I were water. It is also a good idea to put oneself slightly behind others, in terms of meeting needs. This has meant devoting more energy to friendships, which makes some people uncomfortable-“Why are you so concerned about ME?” On the other hand, there are those whose interests in friendship are strictly financial assistance or 24/7 involvement. I feel for such people, but I haven’t that sort of energy, nor do I have unlimited resources.

I have said, recently, that I am single by choice, these past eight years. That’s just where I am, emotionally, psychologically and aesthetically. I won’t apologize for it. Just know that I am more able to do what my spirit guides tell me, in meditation and reflection, without taking on the day-to-day needs of one specific person, or another.

That said, this place could very easily, with the consent of the friends here, be my place of refuge. I would do my share, and then some-but that’s all down the road a piece. There is someone, not that far from here, who could easily be a person of interest to me, so to speak. That would also be a few years hence. My little family’s needs are also, as I keep saying, a major factor.

I have had some vivid and somewhat unsettling dreams of late, which I will describe in a few posts form now, as they have specific contexts. Until then, the road will once again unfold, in a few hours.

NEXT: Where Chattanooga’s Choo Choo Won’t Go

Day of Rage and Remembrance

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 26, 2019 in collaborating, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

June 19, 2019, Joplin MO-

The title refers to August 10, 1861, and I will elaborate, momentarily. My Juneteenth began in Amarillo, with three surly drivers edging towards road rage, within a span of an hour. The first one zipped around the corner and found me in his way, so the horn blew and the fist was pumpin’. I got off the road and waited a bit. Then there was the woman who was off-kilter because I went straight when there was no “left turn only” indicator. Still no harm, no foul. Finally, after my Planet Fitness workout, across town, I was screamed at, for driving across a parking lot and not stopping at each point where the road intersects with said lot. This is, apparently, an Amarillo thing. (In Arizona, every parking lot intersection has a STOP sign. We must be spoiled.)

With all that, I left the city behind, and waltzed on over to Shamrock (See Ernest Tubb’s “Waltz Across Texas”). There is a place there, called Big Vern’s Steak House. Aram and I had lunch there, in 2011. Vern no longer opens for lunch, so after looking around and asking the kind cross street neighbour as to whether Vern was okay (He is; he just opens for dinner only, is all.), I checked out a place called Rusty’s. The perky owner told me she wouldn’t be open for another week or so, but if I went north a piece, I’d find a nice little place called Mesquite Canyon Steak House. I did, and it filled the lunch bill nicely.

Next to Rusty’s is Spinning Jenny’s House of Music. If I’d been in a better mood, I’d have popped on in there. Rusty and Jenny are both pretty and vivacious ladies, with good product, so it’s likely I’ll stop in Shamrock, next time I’m in the area.

I recall June 19 as Juneteenth, the day that Texas slaves received word of the Emancipation Proclamation: June 19, 1865, when the Union forces landed in Galveston and spread the news. This was 2 1/2 years after President Lincoln issued the Proclamation. Today, many people are still not free of their own limiting mental chains.

“Waltz Across Texas” became “Zumba Across Oklahoma”, shortly thereafter. I have a breakfast meet-up with one of my cousins, who lives near Joplin, early tomorrow morning. So, there were no Sooners on my schedule, this leg of the trip. I took the I-40 to 44 and onward straight-away, finding that the long-standing detour through the east side of Tulsa has been eliminated. It’s all freeway, from Erick to Miami, so I found an hour had been shaved off the drive. There was a minor rush hour jam, near downtown OKC, but that was all.

Once in Joplin, I found Motel 6 was reasonable, and that this franchise owner has a high-tech system, reminiscent of the European hotels I used, in 2014. Keyless entry and paperless registration are here in the Heartland.

NEXT: The Battle of Wilson’s Creek

Duke City Redux

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 23, 2019 in Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Slow Food, Social, Travel

June 17, 2019, Albuquerque-

This morning saw the last vestige of abdominal upset leave me. Today would be a day for treading lightly and eating slowly. It did not take long for the Elantra and me to get to Mother Road Hostel, though, and I was pleased to be able to get settled earlier than is the case in most hostels. An early nap took care of what was left to be cured.

I had hoped to get in a return visit to Blackbird Coffee House, in Old Town, but the parking situation is such that exact change is required for a space, and I’m still not one to offer $10, for a $5 fare. I did get laundry done, across from Mother Road, ignoring a “plea” from a street person who said he needed coins to do his laundry, yet there was no sign of said laundry, as he stood in front of The Wash Tub.

Mother Road is a thoroughly relaxing place, convenient to both downtown and Old Town, though it was rather toasty today. By evening, though, with laundry clean and put away, I ventured to the west side of Downtown, and enjoyed a lovely dinner of Minestrone Soup, Vortellini and sauteed vegetables, at Villa di Capo. Being the days of the Senior Olympics, I was joined by many people my age and older. This competition augurs well for those seeking a higher quality of life, as people age. I personally did not take part in the events, but the examples of my contemporaries spurred me to plan a hike tomorrow, at Palo Duro Canyon, south of Amarillo.

Declining spumoni or tiramisu, I bid my gracious hosts farewell, and took a stroll around the Raynolds neighbourhood, taking in both architecture (lots of Art Deco, in downtown Albuquerque) and street murals.

There is a pizzeria, two blocks west of Villa di Capo, which invites patrons with this sidewalk piece.

Java Joe’s, closed for the evening, looks inviting, nonetheless.

Raynolds’ residents seem to be quite active, in addressing the needs of their surrounding area.

These three poles adorn a middle school playground.

Finally, the full range of the neighbourhood’s vibe is shown here.

Albuquerque was restorative to my health, and a confirmation that hostel life is most suitable to my mode of exploration.

NEXT: A Spot of “Fun Zone” and A Lighthouse in the Desert

	Patty Wolters on Limits of Responsibility
	Sagittarian Seeker on Limits of Responsibility
	Patty Wolters on Limits of Responsibility
	Sagittarian Seeker on Limits of Responsibility
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A Sagittarian Seeker

Sharing a life of inner and outer journeys

Category Archives: Personal Values

A Capitol’s Quiet Hour

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