Category Archives: Social

On Agency

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 3, 2023- The former President of the United States faced a Federal Magistrate today, for the second time in a month. He heard the charges against him, pleaded Not Guilty and thanked the Magistrate, before being released in his own recognizance. He maintains innocence, until proven guilty. He maintains agency, regardless.

The topic of agency arose, this evening, during a study session on the matter of public discourse. While the discussion ended up a bit off the rails, largely due to my being a bit tired, after a long day, and thus, not moderating matters as well as I might have, the agency of both those who were carried away in dialogue and those who felt left out, were addressed by the end of the session. Ground rules were established, going forward.

Ironically, the whole kerfuffle came about when the subject of the agency held by children was brought up-by yours truly. That led to discussion about gratuitous spanking of toddlers, and the umbrage taken by some people of our, and our parents’, generations when objections to such “punishment” are raised. Those who got carried away are of the opinion,as am I, that striking people just perpetuates violence. The others in the group, themselves hardly people who believe in corporal punishment, felt “point taken, now let’s move on.”

I have evolved in my thinking on the matters of both agency for children and of corporal punishment. I once believed in the pecking order, that children should serve adults. That went out the window, when I caught some adults using that notion of “service” as a pretext for abusive behaviour.

I have never given our son anything less than respect for who he is, nor have I, save one or two unfortunate lapses of judgement, as a teacher and counselor, seen fit to belittle a child’s soul. My own experience of corporal punishment, as a child, was sparing. Mom and Dad regarded it as tool, to be used judiciously. I followed suit as a parent, until it became obvious to me that there is a conflict between using force as a parent and communicating responsible behaviour to one’s child.

My overall sense, for the longest time now, is that each person, regardless of age, has personal agency. The child needs guidance and reinforcement. The elder needs reassurance of continued relevance. All of us in-between, likewise, need consistent respect, regardless of our positions on matters being discussed or positions in a community.

Trade-offs

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 2, 2023- A photo has gone viral today, of a stern-faced man, in Niamey, Niger, holding up a sign that says, in French, “Long live Putin”. There appeared to be about five hundred people around him, in the photograph, at a rally organized by the new self-appointed leader of that impoverished West African nation. How many were there of their own volition is debatable, but if they were brought there under duress, or with the promise of perquisites/rewards, the adulation for the autocratic leader of the Russian Federation will soon fade. It would not surprise me to learn that the man mentioned above was put up to holding the sign, by soldiers of the Wagner Group, who are ubiquitous in the Sahel region. He certainly did not look very happy to be there.

In a nutshell, I attribute the ease with which demagogues can rise to power, in impoverished nations, to the legacy of colonialism. When personal agency or a sense of community is cut off, by interlopers, for the sake of satisfying the greed of those invaders, the resentment simmers. This will prove as true for the Russians, as it has for the western European colonizers of yore. The only path to overcoming poverty among the masses is unity-under a democratic system, not under the yoke of a tyrant-be he home-grown or foreign-born.

This brings me to Florida-and the notion that slavery was beneficial to the enslaved. That this trope was first advanced by a professor of history, who is himself African-American, does not impress me in the least. Anyone can excuse abusive or oppressive conditions, and offer up a silver lining. More convincing is the umbrage taken to this cockamamie nonsense, by several Black Conservatives. They may ascribe to the noble concept of self-reliance, but attach to it anything that says their ancestors benefitted from having been enslaved, and the cord, rightfully, is cut.

Everything, as Dr.Thomas Sowell once wrote, is a trade-off. If you enslave a people, you break their self-reliance. If you steal agency from another person, then they learn dependency, and you now have an albatross around the neck. If, on the other hand, a person is empowered, honoured and granted agency for life, then society has one more individual who can actually contribute the gifts given by the Divine-on her/his own.

The Blessing of Colour

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 31, 2023- Everyone appreciated the readings, music and the spread on my friend’s table. Organizing and moderating an event that honours “perfection” was an all-day affair, but as the name itself implies, was well worth the day.

Costco was a good place to be guided by the unseen, in picking out refreshment items that would both appeal to the eyes and palate, while offering nutritional balance. I try to avoid “junk food”, when planning a set table, and it worked out quite nicely, unless one considers fresh-baked frosted pound cake as junk-admittedly a relative term, anyway. It was a festive occasion, this Spiritual Feast of Perfection, so why not a (guilty) pleasure. All else was light and nutritious.

The devotional program also was varied, and songs that honour the concept of perfection were interspersed between readings, and carried the evening. It is noteworthy that each of us has an element of perfection within us. Some, like yours truly, hide it better than others, but we all have such a seed inside. I see it in those, like the unhoused people I helped feed this evening, before the Spiritual Feast and in those who work at jobs that they may sometimes view as thankless. I see it in the faces of my Baha’i friends and in those of each human who I encounter every day, both here in the Prescott area and when I am on the road.

So, if you so wish, click on this song and ponder how the Divine sends us Perfect Guides, from time to time and to each part of the planet.

An Untiring Servant

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, School Gardens Project, Service Activities, Slow Food, Slow Food Prescott, Social, Striving

July 30, 2023- A small group of organic farmers and food security activists gathered, among the young families, street musicians and urban campers, for the purpose of honouring a man who has spent much of his time here ensuring that food security is real in this community and that the unhoused, as well as those sheltering because of abuse and neglect, get access to their daily nutritional needs.

John A. and his wife are moving to a homestead, in eastern Tennessee. There, they will have a good opportunity to continue what they have done here. A Slow Food chapter thrives in that area, as ours does here. There is substantial interest in school gardens, as there is here. The growing season is comparable to ours, as is the elevation. There is a somewhat wetter climate, so more might conceivably be accomplished.

John’s energy puts me to shame, but he is twenty years my junior, so no need to feel remorse. He will, though, be very hard to replace. It may well be that a team will form to tend to the matter of delivering food to the shelters, once or twice a week. That was John’s initial suggestion, in any case.

I have been fortunate to have worked with him, on several small projects, and to learn some building and mechanical skills that had eluded me, for many years. The saving grace, though, is that Athens, TN is not that far from Knoxville or Crossville, where I also have friends. When en route back to Home Base, from the Northeast in September, I will be sure to try and connect, at their new place.

A Not-So-Lonely Highway

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

July 29, 2023- A solitary man, either befuddled by the heat or determined to stand his ground, stood squarely in the path of my slowly-moving Kia, as I approached a rest room, at the more aptly named than usual Area 51 Alien Center. The heat, and an approaching full moon, seemed to have brought more unusual behaviour than I’ve seen, over the past eleven years, in that little settlement of Amargosa Springs. I felt badly for the two ladies who were staffing the Alien Center’s store.

The man in question moved along, when I simply turned right and found a parking spot away from the rest room. When I drove across the street, to the Alien Center’s parking lot, he blocked my way with his car, so once more, I turned right and simply found a space that was not in “his zone”. He drove off without any further ado.

The drive down from Carson City was itself quite smooth. I left a bit later than planned, as my help was needed with an online Zoom call, which was best done from the motel room. Breakfast to go sufficed my LA Bakery fix, for this visit. (That establishment, and Red Hut, are my must stops in Carson.) Stopping briefly in Yerington, an hour to the south, I found another favourite, Blanhir’s Bakery, was closed-odd for a Saturday noon. Oh, well, down through Schurz, Hawthorne and Mina, towards Tonopah, it was. A brief rest stop at Luning, just north of Mina, provided an opportunity for service and let’s just say, I fixed a problem that had been left to sit , by earlier visitors. I’m sure the trucker who came by, just as I was leaving, appreciated the problem-free rest room.

Beans and Brews, in Tonopah, is mostly staffed by local teens, so it has been a must-stop, when going to and from Carson City or Reno. As usual, the counter person was energetic and quick to fill my small order. The lady at the adjacent convenience counter, on the other hand, looked like she was melting in the heat. I wished them both a fine afternoon, and went on-past Goldfield, which still does not have the truck stop that’s been in the works for over a year. I think the earth-moving equipment is in the same place it was, last November. Passing through Beatty, and stopping for a quick supper in Amargosa Springs, I encountered the above-mentioned individual-and a worker from the brothel next door, who didn’t bother me, but looked like she needed a good long rest.

What happens in Las Vegas is best left there-but I found reasonable gas, at a station that had been sending patrons to the nearby Wendy’s, for restroom use. Wendy’s, unbeknownst to the station attendants, has closed. I let them know that state of affairs. Fortunately there is a huge shopping mall across the road. An iced coffee from Panera Bread addressed two needs, and I was again on my way, in short order.

Four hours and twenty minutes later, another journey was in the books. It helped me confront a few remaining personal baggage items, without any faux pas, which leaves me with a nice feeling. Thank you, to all in California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia and Nevada. This was a truly nice two weeks-even through the heat.

Jitterbug, with The Munchkins

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 28, 2023, Carson City– The cast was set to dancing and jumping about, in this version of the spell cast by a cheekier version of the Wicked Witch of the West. W3 did not feel like even hinting at opium being an acceptable diversion and so came the Jitterbug, whose weapon was getting everyone to dance until they dropped from exhaustion. The classic dance marathon, instead of deadly poison, was a tad more family friendly-but W3 still asked Scarecrow if he wanted to play ball.

“The Wizard of Oz” first came into my consciousness when I was about nine, and we started watching it, as a family, once a year. When I hit my mid-teens, the watch party shifted to a gathering of friends-still a time for laughs and feigned fright. Seeing that it has not lost its appeal is re-assuring. There is much that is not ersatz about our culture, and these are the totems that I hope will remain.

Children and teens are almost universally dear to my heart. One of the dearest was on stage as a Munchkin, her time under the klieg lights about five minutes of play time and a few minutes at the end. In our pre-play conversation, I re-assured her that this is how just about everything starts. The first jobs are almost always the equivalent of a small role, with few lines. It is approaching the task with aplomb, with the confidence that one is going to do the small stuff well and move up the ladder, to a place that is deserved, that makes the dream become reality.

So she did her small role well, being visible and audible from where I was sitting, with her grandmother, in the second row. Afterward, the three of us went to a fast food place and each got an orange cream shake. We talked of the importance of agency, which she has already stood for, as she described an incident in which she asked that officials remove a poster she finds offensive. She heard us say: “Good on you and keep standing for justice, even when-especially when, it’s hard.”

I will always stand beside her, her brother, cousins and any other young person who is looking at being hazed or subjected to injustice.

A Mountain Route Towards Second Home

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 27, 2023, Carson City- One of my favourite chain eateries, of which there are few, is Black Bear Diner, which started in the city of Mount Shasta, CA, in 1995, and has now expanded throughout the western half of the U.S.

It was at Grants Pass’s Black Bear that my day got revved up. The counter crew, like crews in most restaurants, are a well-working team. A lovely, perky young lady at the register told me it was her first day-and I noticed that the rest of the crew was solicitous and helpful towards her. She is likely to have a good run there. The food was excellent, as always.

Mount Shasta itself was prominent during the first part of my drive towards Carson City. A first time visitor to the area stopped at the western vista point, off I-5, just after I got there and asked what mountain that was. She proceeded to take several snaps of the peak, from different vantage points. I was happy taking one, from there.

About an hour later, heading towards Reno, on the Lassen Highway, I stopped at another “Vista Point”, to find that Mount Shasta was pretty much hidden from view by the tall pines. Lifting a bit of litter from the stop, because Mount Shasta is just majestic and doesn’t need our trash in view, even from thirty miles away.

Mount Shasta peeks through the pines, taken from the south.

There was no time to make a stop at Lassen peak that would have done it any justice, so I turned left towards Susanville and Reno. The damage done to the forests on Mount Lassen’s northern and western flanks, and in the mountains near Susanville, is heart-wrenching to see. Thankfully, fire has spared this area so far this year, but it’s unfortunately very early yet. In the intermediate future, one of my sojourns will entail a three-day stay in one of the cabins at Lassen Volcanic National Park.

In my heart, with Prescott my primary Home Base, there are several others-Carson City chief among them, that very much feel like home. That’s as it should be. I settled into the small America’s Best Value here, and spent about two hours visiting with Michele, very much like a sister, at Betsy’s Big Kitchen, a rather nice in-casino establishment, serving sizable portions of fine comfort food.

My main reason for being here will happen tomorrow, as a Munchkin takes the stage.

Denial Gets A Comeuppance

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 26, 2023, Grants Pass, OR-

I was told, some time ago, that the homeless community along Washington State’s southern tier had been removed, by sending the lot across the Columbia River, to Portland. Being skeptical that this is even something that could be pulled off, without a whimper from a city that was already choking with a large unhoused community in its downtown and other neighbourhoods, the last time I visited (2015), I went to Vancouver (WA) this morning, after checking out of the motel in Kelso.

Vancouver, not to be confused with the much-larger city in British Columbia, has a lovely park along the Columbia River, and pleasant, clean downtown and uptown sections. It also has the manicured Fort Vancouver, a well-maintained National Park site, whose historic homes are leased to residents and businesses. Living wherever they can put up tents, usually in nooks and crannies along the Columbia, are the remnants of the unhoused community, admittedly smaller than those of Portland, Seattle or Tacoma, but in Vancouver, nonetheless. Denial of a problem will never make it go away. Whoever passed that information along to people down at my Home Base, in Prescott had probably not been to Vancouver.

I took a walking loop to the banks of the Columbia, then around to Esther Short Park, after first enjoying a vanilla latte at Brewed, a small, but efficient coffee shop, combined with a bar and small bakery, on Main Street. Not far from Brewed, there is a parking lot with murals on two of the walls.

The Skagit, Yamhill, and other nations, have not lost their dignity.
Nor, for that matter, have the Hispanics who come here for agricultural work.
The African-American community here seems small, but holds its own.
Columbia River, at I-5 Bridge, Vancouver.
“Boat of Discovery”, commemorating the visit here, by Captain George Vancouver’s fleet.
A long wall emanates from this plaza, honouring veterans of all “foreign” conflicts, from the War of 1812 to Iraq and Afghanistan.
Clock Tower, Esther Short Park. The park was being readied for a special event, when I happened by.

Having a couple of errands to do, across the river, I gave myself an hour to explore Fort Vancouver. The post was established to safeguard U.S. control of the mouth of the Columbia River-with .British, Russian and Spanish claims not fully resolved.

Here is the flag staff, in the midst of the parade ground.
This was a serious parade ground!
Grant House, intended for use by Ulysses S. Grant, when he was stationed here, in the 1850s. He never lived in this mansion, on Officers’ Row.
Here is a view of the Enlisted Barracks, south of the Parade Grounds.
These cannons were replicated, from descriptions of the originals, by local high school students, from 1990-92. They are owned by the City of Vancouver, which supplied the materials.
This was the residence of General O.O. Howard, the post commander from 1874-80.
The Artillery Barracks-It struck me that this could house a lot of people.
Non-commissioned Officer’s Housing
Marshall House, home to General George C. Marshall, during his duty here, prior to World War II.

This pavilion honours the Chinese diaspora to Oregon and Washington. Chinese immigrants faced horrific treatment in the Pacific Northwest, during the late Nineteenth, and much of the Twentieth, Centuries.

After leaving Vancouver, I made my way across the bridge to Portland, getting my Pastini fix, with a late lunch at the Italian food chain’s Northeast Portland branch. Then, it was time to locate and purchase a new adapter, to house my photo SIM card and post these and other scenes. It took me all over North Portland. At one point, I stopped in front of a crosswalk, so that a young lady could cross. One would have thought I had held up the President, for the insistent beeping from behind me. The lady shot a dignified, but definitely disapproving, glance at the impatient motorist and gave me a gentle smile.

The shop I eventually found was a Best Buy, on the far northeast side. Its location afforded a fairly lightly-trafficked way out of Portland, so I missed all but a small amount of rush hour. Still ahead, however, was the large influx of participants, family members and spectators at the Junior Olympics, which I learned was being held in Eugene, Springfield, Albany, Corvallis and Roseburg. All of those cities’ accommodations were either occupied or were priced exorbitantly by the Law of Supply and Demand. After gassing up in Eugene, I made my way down to Grants Pass, and got a reasonably-priced overflow room. My last thoughts of the day, though, are wishes for the kids to be successful at their sport-and more importantly, to have a good experience.

No Contraband, but A Bit of A Chuckle

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 25, 2023, Kelso, WA- The two Border Patrol agents saw the large amount of stuff in Sportage’s back area, naturally wanted to have a closer look. They found nothing in the cooler, but a freezer bar that is badly in need of refreezing. They found nothing of interest among the camping equipment, but my personal digital scale, which I have wrapped in a Red Cross blanket. “How does one use a bath scale in the woods?”, asked the senior agent. “One doesn’t”, I replied. “It’s for use when I am in a room with tile or wooden floors”.

That satisfied them, and I was kindheartedly welcomed back, as they chuckled and shook their heads. Shakespeare said it best: “A bit of nonsense now and then is relished by the best of men.” I continued on my way, to the town of Blaine and Peace Arch State Park.

Pine grove, Peace Arch State Park, Blaine, WA
The border meets the sea, Peace Arch State Park
Riot of colours, Peace Arch State Park
Apropos of our time, here is a description of the great Paul Robeson’s calling out to the world, from a flatbed truck, at this very park, in the 1950s.
Peace Arch, from south side (Blaine).
Peace Arch, from north side (White Rock)
Totem Pole raised to correct historic wrongs, Peace Arch Provincial Park, White Rock
Maple Leaf Garden, White Rock, BC
Peace Arch Park is one of the only places to go between the U.S. and Canada, without showing documents. The authorities are close by, though.
A bit of humour, at Railway Cafe, Blaine

Once I had visited both sides of the Peace Arch complex, it was time for lunch. Railway Cafe is a tiny boxcar that has converted to a cozy, friendly restaurant. Whilst waiting for a made-from-scratch BLT, I took in the homespun humour, such as that above-and below.

This speaks for itself.
Railway Cafe’s Exterior
Across Blaine Inlet, a view of Point Roberts, part of the U.S. but only accessible by road through White Rock, BC. Otherwise, folks go back and forth to Blaine, by boat.

From Blaine, I drove on to Everett, a major U.S. The city is also a commercial port, which at one time was headquarters for Weyerhauser Corporation’s Northwest timberworks. Shingles were made here, en masse, and there is acknowledgement, in the city’s Boxcar Park, of the risks taken by shingle makers-operating sawing equipment, at a very fast pace. Fingers and hands were lost, more often than one might care to think.

Appreciating the risks taken by those who provide building materials.

Weyerhauser House is now a coffee shop and meeting place, close to the waterfront.

Weyerhauser House, Boxcar Park, Everett, WA
Everett Harbor
The Heart of Everett

Once rejuvenated by a macchiato, from The Muse, in the above mentioned house, I took on Seattle’s, and Tacoma’s, rush hours, calmly navigating down to Kelso, on the Cowlitz River. It’s very peaceful here.

No Foggy Notions

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 24, 2023, Surrey, BC- Rain came to Vancouver Island, as promised, early this morning, and stayed the day. The precipitation was mostly gentle, but after checking out of Painted Turtle, I opted to spend much of the day in the Public Library. There were also forays into nearby coffee shops. The first was to Serious Coffee-where a barista at first greeted me cheerfully, later showing a rather serious face, after another patron made a snide comment to her, while himself wearing a sly grin. I thought to myself, while scowling at him, that there is no call for lording it over another person, especially when they are trying to work. The people I have observed here, young and elder alike, do work hard-and deserve appreciation.

After 4 p.m., the rain tapered off, affording me a chance to visit Petroglyph Provincial Park and Bowen Park, both south of town.

An elk, fleeing a hunter
A flounder, or a crab?
A seal looks up.
A bear, enjoying its kill
Two wolves, on the attack.
Western White Pines, Bowen Park
Nanaimo River, Bowen Park
Stairstep Falls, Bowen Park

A perfectly prepared and portioned chicken cutlet with chow mein awaited me, at Sun’s Noodle Bar, virtually across the highway from the turn-off to Duke Point. The congenial server made all of the patrons feel like guests in her own parlor. Thus did my visit to the island draw to a close.

Leaving Duke Point, south of Nanaimo
Dyke Point, up close

The ferry, as it happened, was late leaving Tsawwassen, and so was also late leaving Duke Point. We got back to Tsawwassen around 11:10 p.m., and I arrived at Sun Suite, here in Surrey, around midnight, initially somewhat to the consternation of my Korean host-who reminded himself that I was, after all, not piloting the ship and that I had made good time, once off the vessel and driving around a strange city in the dark and rain.

Sun Suite is a very fine place, in which to rest from three frenetic days, with more to come.