Category Archives: Social

Whose Love Is It, Anyway

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Posted by on in Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Uncategorized

February 14, 2016, Prescott-  I spent Valentine’s Day on a trail, of which more in the next post.  Right now, I feel the need to address some concerns that came up, regarding a post I wrote on another social media site.

No, love is not physical in origin.  It is not limited to the chosen few, nor is it something that should cause rifts between friends, siblings or parents/children.  In a contentious society, such as the one we have now, such rifts often happen- over anything.

Love is a spiritual force.  It began with everything we experience with our senses, being brought into existence.  It became manifest in plants, when they propagated.  Likewise, with animals, when they procreated, then nurtured their offspring and family members.

Humans have taken love to the next level- and we see the spiritual, feel the eternal.  I have spent the past five Valentine’s Days as an observer, a well-wisher to couples, and a would-be soother to the distressed.  There have been some, including one I thought was a friend, who have attacked me for even hinting that we should treat today as a time for honouring the concept of relationships.  More’s the pity.

The fact is, most of us have been in a close friendship that, sooner or later, evolves into romance, and in many cases, marriage. Many of us, myself included, have had such friendships, and I have certainly had my share of those which “went south”.

I have had one that endured, and that’s really all that matters-in my case.  Love is eternal.  It will survive the worst of excesses, abuses and miscarriages of justice.  It can be confused with its physical manifestations of affection, and lust.  They feel good, when they are mutually accepted by both in a friendship, for a time.  Real love, coming from the spirit, feels good for all time.

Hope your Valentine’s Day went well.  If it didn’t, may you receive more love, as this year progresses.

 

My Life Thus Far: The Seventies

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Posted by on in Family, Inner Struggles, Social, Striving, Travel

February 11, 2016, Prescott-  Today was brutal, for many people about whom I care.  It wasn’t so bad for me, personally, because I stayed put-mostly out of financial prudence.  Things will be better that way, tomorrow.

So, I will continue recounting what has been good, and not so good, with the years gone by.  A lot of you, my faithful WP readers, despised my account of the Sixties.  Brace yourselves:  Things went a tad south for me, as twentysomething, but I lay the blame at my own two feet.  Therefore, if you were rankled by me as a teen, skip this post.

1970-High Point:  Being in Fort Myer for the entire year.

Low Point:  Stan E. getting killed in combat.

People in the heart:  Cathy P., my best long-distance phone friend; my three faithful roommates in the TriService barracks; Don and Charley,my co-workers; Stan E., who died for his country.

Places in the heart:  Georgetown, DC; the C & P Canal Towpath; Lynn Beach, when I was on leave.

1971-High Point:  Being stationed in the Cholon section of Saigon.

Low Point:  Wretched, crowded, chaotic Long Binh Army Base.

People in the heart:  Jim T., who stood up for his girls; Tay Lanh, who honoured my dignity; Bill B., Arnie P. and Roger D., my buddies in Cholon; the Henderson family, who overlooked my surly temperament, while I was in Sydney; Tommy W., who didn’t deserve to have been left alone, while injured.

Places in the heart:  Cholon; Vung Tau; Tauranga Park; Woollahra.

1972- High Point:  My hitchhiking trip across North America.

Low Point:  Ignoring what I had been told about spiritual truth.

People in the heart:  Dave G., who gave me my first post-Army job; my workmates, Jimmy, Jan, Donna and Franny; Jim F., my long-suffering boss; Lillies S., the college office manager, who told me to always set my sights high; my hometown buddies, who welcomed me back from ‘Nam; the Gordon family, of Toronto, who camped with me, along Lake Superior; Kathy B., with whom I almost fell madly in love; the Bullocks, who hosted me in Baltimore, for a week; the anonymous truck driver in King of Prussia, who introduced me to the Baha’i Faith; Sandy and Al, my housemates; Donna G., who tried to be a good friend.

Places in the heart:  North Shore Community College; Montreal; Lake Superior; Edmonton; Jasper; Lake Louise; Babb, MT; Morgantown, WV; Baltimore; Ocean City; Bethlehem, PA; my little room in Beverly, MA.

1973- High Point: Visiting Prince Edward Island.

Low Point:  The Chelsea Fire.

People in the heart:  Geary C., Alan A., Sandy G. and Angie D., my friends at NSCC; just about everyone I met on PEI; the hipster who filled my tank with gas, for giving him a ride from Ellsworth to Boothbay.

Places in the heart:  Beverly,MA; Salem; Boston Public Library; Prince Edward Island; New Glasgow, NS; Boothbay Harbor, ME.

1974- High Point: Working at Quisisana Resort, ME.

Low Point:  The botched attempt to serve as editor of “Sage Revisited”.

People in the heart: All my NSCC and Beverly friends; Kathy H., Annette K, Tom & Fricky J., Sandy M., the Grices and Dave B., who were my friends and co-workers at “Quisi”; Dr. and Mrs. Ziv, my “Jewish grandparents” from lower Manhattan; Jimmy S. and Mr. McGregor, who offered me work close to home; my dorm mates in Orchard Hill, at UMass-Amherst.

Places in the heart: Quisisana Resort, Lovell, ME; Bar Harbor; North Conway; Amherst; Fisher Island, NY.

1975- High Point:  Hiking the Presidential Range, in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

Low Point: Getting fired from a part-time job, on my 25th birthday.

People in the heart:  My campus buddies at UMass; Mrs. Braman, the housemother in my rooming house, in Northampton; Steve R., Paul W. and Ken C., my brainy, irreverent and totally sloppy first housemates in South Deerfield; the Rivard family, who moved in, after the guys were evicted; Allan D., my internship co-op teacher; Lloyd Z. and Linda D., who imparted good pedagogy; every child who put up with me in that little U.S. History class; the Zivs.

Places in the heart:  Amherst; Northampton; South Deerfield; the White Mountains; lower Manhattan.

1976- High Point:  Graduating from UMass.

Low Point:  Almost losing a sibling, in an accident.

People in the heart:  Dave C. and Janet C., my Quisisana friends and a most unlikely couple; Fred L., aka “Doctor Dirt”; Clay R., my younger doppelganger; the Smalls, who lodged me in Bangor; the Bryants, who fed me, whenever I tutored their son; Mr. Bluestein, who stressed the value of a dollar; Peter W., who hired me as a Teacher Aide; Cheryl Q., who mentored me.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Brewer and Etna,ME;

1977- High Point:  My brother, David’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Being evicted, on false pretenses, in the middle of February.

People in the heart:  Cheryl Q., Peter W., Greg F., Susan C., Grace P. and Evelyn L., who tried their best to be mentors and friends; Lucy and Ronnie R., who took me in from the dead of winter; John and Mary M., my cousin and his wife, who were always there for me; my eight unsettled, troubled and always worthwhile students, in the Behaviorally-Challenged class; my first and fourth-graders, that second year, who re-assured me that I could serve as a teacher.

Places in the heart:  Brewer, Etna, Vinalhaven and Fort Kent, ME; Fredericton and Edmundston, NB; Riviere Bleu and Lac Megantic, QB.

1978- High Point:  My sister, Cheryl’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Losing my temper on a school field trip to a museum.

People in the heart:  My friends and well-wishers at Etna-Dixmont School; my new supervisors at Villa School, Toltec, AZ; many of my students, at both schools; Mrs. Knox, my landlady, over the summer.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Etna, Dexter and Kingfield, ME.; Mactaquac Park and Saint John, NB; Toltec, Casa Grande, Phoenix, Tucson and Grand Canyon, AZ; Amarillo; Chicago; Toledo.

1979- High Point:  My first solo visit to Mexico.

Low Point:  Encountering a dangerous sex offender, in the New Mexico desert.

People in the heart:  Lynda E., Patrick G., Bill K.,  John G.- my co-workers at Villa; the vast majority of my students; the two sisters who drove me from Little Rock to Albuquerque, without regard for my disheveled state; the majority of my fellow travelers, between Phoenix and Boston, and back; the young lady who gave me a ride from Grand Canyon to Las Vegas, in an empty tour bus, just for the sake of having company.

Places in the heart:   Casa Grande;Grand Canyon; Tucson; Puerto Penasco; Hermosillo; Ensenada; Woodfords and Bishop, CA;  Hodgenville and Mammoth Cave, KY.

This decade brought a lot of painful personal growth to my doorstep. There are many people from those days who, if they were never to see me again, it would be too soon.  There are others whom I miss, sorely.  The big lessons are that alcohol and autism are a  wicked combination.  Lack of even rudimentary social skills surfaced, at the worst possible times, though thankfully, it was all pretty much done by the time I moved to Arizona.  When a rough-edged former co-worker tried to nail me with  the label of “loser”, towards the end of 1979, his words fell on deaf ears.

The Eighties would be, by and large, awesome.

 

Old Blue

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Posted by on in Fiction, Seafaring, Social

gin, delicate, hook, basset hound, pearls, hibiscus

February 10, 2016, Prescott- Rafe was understandably flustered.  For the third night in a row, some Bible-study group was sitting in his cafe, talking nonsense about Race Unity. “Race Unity?  The White race IS unified, as far as I’m concerned”, Ralph Waldo Emerson Tucker muttered, as he turned on his heels and walked out the door.  “Next thing ya know, they’ll have some Black Eee-mahm leadin’ the festivities!”

Rafe headed back to his makeshift camp, at  the edge of a ramshackle wharf and threw his backpack on the old cot he called Slumberland.  He had to lay down carefully on the single bed, lest its legs collapse.  Slumberland was always on the delicate side.  Before he brushed his remaining teeth, Rafe had himself a healthy swig of gin.

That’s when Old Blue, his trusted basset hound, came wandering over.  “Here ya go, buddy boy”, Rafe cackled, as he poured a bit of gumption into Blue’s bowl.  The aging hound, with one good eye, lapped up the gin, in several slow, somewhat agonized slurps.

The dog belched, then Rafe followed suit.  One more chore remained, before the snoring.  Rafe and Blue went down to the bay’s edge, and checked the baited hook, and their traps.  “It’s a helluva great day, after all, Blue’s Clues”, Rafe snickered, as he counted the two dozen oysters in the trap.  The grizzled fisherman placed the day’s catch in a lizard-proof container, set it up on a high shelf, in the locked shed, and headed inside to crash.

That night, Rafe interrupted his snoring, tossing and turning, to dream, deeply, that a lithe, lovely young pearl diver was walking past his camp.  He could smell the lush, sweet hibiscus in her hair.    Rafe may have been a bigot, but he had an eye for beauty, undeneath that snarling, very scruffy, countenance.

He woke, to see the stars still sparkling, high above.  Hearing Old Blue murmuring contentedly, Mr. Tucker got up and looked out on the hound’s dirt sleeping area. Old Blue was lying, happily stretched full-out, his snout resting on the lap of a young lady, dressed in a floral print muu-muu, her hair sporting a fresh hibiscus blossom.  Carlota had a habit of catching some sleep here, when her father and brother got to drinking and fighting.  Rafe was a drunk, but he was no lecher.

“Yessiree, Bob”, Rafe mused, “The best decision I ever made was moving here, to Iloilo.”  Old Blue couldn’t have agreed more.

 

My Life Thus Far: The Sixties

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Posted by on in Family, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Social, Striving

February 5, 2016, Phoenix- I had my lunch, of spicy California rolls, at Dreamy Draw Park, a popular desert redoubt, on the northeast side of town, before going in for what was an encouraging dental checkup.

While sitting in the coolness of the Sonoran Desert, I went back, in my mind to the years of adolescence.

1960-High Point: The New England Shopping Center opened.

            Low Points:  Ellen moved; my Grandma died.

People in the Heart:  Barbara I., Ellen S.

Places in the Heart:  Makepeace Hill, Johns Pond (Mashpee)

1961-High Point:  Hiking Mt. Chocorua, NH.

Low Point:  Having a stupid meltdown, while on that camping trip.

          People in the Heart:  The Geotis family, who moved into the Statuto’s old house; the members of my Boy Scout troop.

          Places in the Heart:  The White Mountains of New Hampshire (all of them).

1962- High Point:  Family gatherings at Kingston State Park, NH.

             Low Point:  Five days in the hospital.

People in the Heart:  A tall, beautiful girl in our grade (anonymous, out of respect              to her and her loving husband); my then new friends, Dean and the late Mike; three            beautiful sisters, who were friends of our extended family.

            Places in the Heart: Canobie Lake;  Kingston State Park.

1963- High Point:  Putting an end to being bullied in Grade 8.

            Low Point:   The death of John F. Kennedy.

             People in the Heart:  Half the female population of Saugus Junior High School.

Places in the Heart:  Every school building that was torched by a serial arsonist,                  who was in our class.

1964-  High Point:  Promoting out of Grade 8.

Low Point:   Dealing with enuresis.

             People in the Heart:  Those three beautiful sisters; the thugs who actually stood                  up for me.

             Places in the Heart:  Our cellar, where I could shine the family’s shoes and listen                to the richness of pop music; Breakheart Pond.

1965- High Point: Getting my own newspaper route.

Low Point:  Dealing with a pedophile.

            People in the Heart:  My neighbourhood group of friends (who remain my friends,              to this day).                                                                                                                                 

            Places in the Heart:  Breakheart, Johns Pond, the Saugus Howard Johnson’s                          Restaurant (where so many of us hung out); Mt. Chocorua.

1966- High Point:  Getting my driver’s license.

            Low Point:  Working out the bugs in my own driving behaviour.

             People in the Heart:  Most of my newspaper customers; Coach Wall, who put me                 through Driver Boot Camp, and whom I credit for 50 years of driving, with only                   two, one-car, accidents; Joan M., one of my best female friends, ever.

             Places in the Heart:  Martha’s Vineyard; the above-mentioned spots, from 1966.

1967- High Point: Getting a job at a supermarket.

Low Point: Struggling on the job.

People in the Heart:  Bob Powers, my first boss, and one of the finest people for                   whom I’ve ever worked;  all my above-mentioned peers from Saugus High.

             Places in the Heart:  Merrymeeting Lake, Alton, NH; Fireplace 10, at Lynn Beach.

1968- High Point: Graduating Saugus High School.

           Low Points: Not taking college seriously; all the crap that went down that Spring.

            People in the Heart:  Ron Gerace, my fourth boss; Professor Ahmad and Jim                          Gorman, who tried to set me straight about college; Kathy W., to whom I should                  have paid more attention.

             Places in the Heart: The old campus of UMass-Boston; the Back Bay; Hampton                    Beach, NH.

1969- High Point: Completing Army Basic training.

             Low Point:  Leaving college, feeling like a failure.

             People in the Heart:  My Army buddies, Tim and Mike; Drill Sergeants Cummings,             Wescott, and Green.

             Places in the Heart:  Downtown Columbia, SC; Myrtle Beach; Indianapolis.

Junior High had its share of abysmal moments.  High school, I must say, was freeing.  I had a core group of friends, and yet made the rounds of several groups of people, in Saugus and in nearby Melrose.   I was too young, emotionally, to have attempted college.  Girls and protest marches were way bigger in my life than studying.  So, 1969 found me treading water in a job at my Dad’s GE Plant, then signing myself up for the Army.  It was past time to stop being the family nuisance.  On June 16, 1969, I left for Fort Jackson, SC.

I did not, in the scheme of things, end the ’60’s too badly.  By October, 1969, I had made a place for myself on a “clean-up crew”, re-establishing Army postal service to the residents of Tri-Service Barracks, Fort Myer, VA.  Still, the bugaboo of alcohol dependency, along with mild autism, kept me from bonding with many people and created all manner of problems, with my family and with others, who didn’t know me very well.  The hiatus of Boot Camp and Advanced Individual Training did bring me a bit further along towards adulthood, but relapse came, once I was back in routine.

The ’70’s would be the first of my two lost decades.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Living Dream

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social

February 4, 2016, Prescott- It’s been nearly three weeks since the nation took time to honour the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  It’s been three weeks, since we heard this year’s iterations of the speech he gave, sharing his dream of a nation whose people were at peace with one another.

I have thought, long and hard, about the years that have passed since then, and the years that have passed since his slaying.  We no longer, thankfully, have full-on urban riots, at least not since Los Angeles, and 25 other cities, in 1992.  We no longer tell people of colour that they cannot live in certain neighbourhoods, or parts of the country. We have, on the one hand, made an attempt to include people of colour more fully in the outward cultural fabric of our world-with HipHop and rap becoming de rigeur, worldwide.  On the other hand, there is so much unfinished, and even some progress at risk of being undone.

I have to say this, sans hard hat:  There are still several areas of daily life, mostly involving how I, and people who look like me, are perceived by law enforcement, especially on the road at night, that are not experienced the same way by people of colour.  As a nation, we buy too easily into stereotypes, still.  It was not so long ago that I would lapse into a lilt, when speaking with African-Americans.  That had to rankle the people with whom I was speaking and I apologize, profusely.  It said volumes about my own gap in self-identity and deficit in self-confidence.

I am over that personal roadblock.  The Dream that Dr. King shared with us, while speaking at the National Mall, those 53 years ago, was meant for all of us.  It was meant for Blacks, Native-Americans, Latinos to claim a place in the true life of the nation.  It was meant for women to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with men.  It was meant for Caucasians to recognize that sharing the full life of the nation with people of colour, in no way diminishes who we are as a dynamic force in the progress of mankind.  It was meant for those of both sexual orientations to be afforded the opportunity to share their God-given strengths and talents, in making the world a better place.  It was meant that the Dream be truly universal. I believe the Dream is alive.  I believe that this is truly the Day that will not be followed by Night.

The Road in Winter: Part I

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Posted by on in Family, Social, Travel

 

This is the first of three posts I will make tonight.  Please read at your leisure.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Prescott, on the First of February, 2016

When the Essential Oils Winter Summit concluded, on Saturday evening, I made the choice to drive twenty miles northward, to visit my 90-year-old paternal uncle.  As Nature would have it, snow began falling as soon as I drove north, out of Longmont, where he lived until the middle of last year.

I found  the vicinity of his new residence, in the pleasantly-named city of Loveland, and gave ring.  His response was predictable:  “Gary, I appreciate your coming up here, but it’s dark and snowy, and it’s hard enough to find my building during the day.  Come back in summer, and please head as far south as you can, out of this snow.”

I listened to my father more often than either he or Mom ever thought I did, and now Uncle George is the closest I have to a father, so I was on my way south along I-25, in short order.

When we in the Mountain West are faced with dark, snowy roads, we stick together.  My fellow travelers and I made it out of the whiteness around the middle of Denver.  I didn’t stop for a bite to eat until I had reached the north side of Castle Rock, midway between the Mile-High City and Colorado Springs.  A meatball sub at Mama Lisa’s got me back on an even keel, and I enjoyed the banter between the four or five workers and a Douglas County Sheriff’s Deputy, who is apparently one of the regulars.

Three hours later, I called it a night, in Trinidad, near the New Mexico state line.  The Tower Motel is unique, and has large, affordable rooms.  That last part is getting repetitive, which is exquisitely comforting.  The road in winter does not lend itself to comfortable camping, after all.  I enjoyed four nights of such accommodations, and would go back to any one of these establishments again.

Tower uses a “European” system of card entry.  As in France and Belgium, I placed the card against a magnetic pad on the door, and was buzzed in. It was nearly midnight, so before long, I was fast asleep.

Morning came quickly, with gray sky overhead, but no snow.  I got packed on the double, and was down the mountain, and in metro Albuquerque, in three hours’ time.  The day in Duke City was gorgeous.  It was time for a respite at one of my favourite spots there.

Next up:  Rio Grande Nature Center, and how I dodged the storm.

 

Un-Frozen

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual

January 13, 2016, Prescott- The year is starting to show its own character, as years always do.  There is less of the despair that seemed to hang over from its predecessor.  Maybe the State of the Union speech both reflected the longing for a new rising of national unity, or maybe it will ignite the light of that coming together.

There are issues:  More people’s lives are being snuffed out, both by the forces of authority and by those of anarchy.  David Bowie had not been dead 48 hours, when people began speaking out, regarding a heinous crime he is said to have committed, I believe in the ’70’s.  The forces of irreligion, masquerading as an army of the faithful, continue to wreak havoc, just about anywhere they walk.

Yet, hearing my little 4 and 6-year-old neighbours, riding their tricycle and bicycle along the alley that they rule, I know that several right things will happen in 2016.  The work that I need, in order to accomplish a few immediate goals, is presenting itself, and I get the sense that the Creator wants me to achieve some key tasks.

Regarding the prompt of Winter Planets and Constellations (#5):

Most of us are frozen, far beyond Sol.

Earth’s antennae signal us, calling out for love.

Each of us has our own denizens, living ‘neath the cold.

Microbes and carbonites alike, rarely venture to the ice above.

Terrestrials shall not see us, until the Universe says  “Behold!”

Yet, below the surface, we live unfrozen, in constant communication, undubbed.

We are the Winter Planets, and the constellations who light the chill.

Some clear, cold night, sit by your fire, and let us share our thrills.

 

 

First Survey of the Year

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Personal Values, Social

January 5, 2016, Prescott- 

At the behest of one of my Xanga friends, here goes:

  1. List 3 names you go by:
    1. Gary (Preferred)

    2. Mr. B (used by my students)

    3. Gare Bear (rarely heard anymore, but used by ex-Xangans, back when I was Cyberbear on Xanga)

    Name 3 places you’ve lived:
    1. Saugus, MA (from the time I was six months old until I left for the Army, and again in 1972)

    2. Cheju, Korea (1986-92)

    3. Prescott, AZ ( 3 separate stints-1992, for six months; 2000-01, for twelve months; 2011-Present)

    List 3 places you’ve worked:
    1.  Star Market ( I was terrible at bagging, but I did work for one of my two best bosses- Bob Powers)

    2. Jeddito School (The best job I ever had:  School Counselor, K-8, a job into which I grew)

    3. Mingus Springs Charter School (Red-tape led to a short tenure, but I proved I could teach coherently, day-to-day)

    What are 3 things you love to watch:
    1.  People treating each other nicely

    2.  Animals in the wild

    3.  Children feeling genuinely happy

    Name 3 places you’ve visited:
    1.  Mendenhall Glacier, Alaska

    2.  Mt. Halla,South Korea

    3.  Utah Beach, Normandy

    Name 3 foods you love to eat:

    1.Baked stuffed shrimp

    2. Lasagne

    3. Hummus

    Name 3 favourite beverages:

    1.Coffee (Cream only)

    2. Mango Iced Tea

    3. Filtered water

     

    Name 3 things you are looking forward to:
    1. Working with children & teens, for at least five more years.

    2. Resuming summer travel, starting with the Philippines and nearby countries, in 2017.

    3. Seeing my son and other family members realize their dreams.

Four Days’ Reflections

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Posted by on in "sibling-ish", Family, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Social, Travel

December 29, 2015, Phoenix- The period just passed, from Christmas  until Transit Day (yesterday), saw either sporadic WiFi connection, or time when being on the Internet would have been just plain rude.  As it was, my non-technological mother saw any time spent on the computer as an imposition, even when I was sharing what I found with the group.

Few are in a place of honour, when among those who knew them when.  I was delighted to have felt welcome, when I visited with a couple of friends from my late teen/young adult years, and the three of us were actually having intelligent, respectful conversation- free of the oneupmanship that seemed so prevalent back then.  Now, we are all mid-sexagenarians and have a grander view.

Mom was not feeling all that great, but kept a game face the whole time I was in Saugus.  I know better, though, and I also know that her current aches and pains will subside.  Andrew Wyeth remarked, on his own father’s passing, “It took a freight train to kill N.C. Wyeth!”.  It’ll take a lot more than that to bring down my mother.

The siblings will always be my treasured core group.  I spent time as the bete-noire, in my twenties, and it was largely deserved.  Now, each of us has our niche and when we get together, we have genuine nuggets to share.  This was my sister’s year to break out- to see the Mountain Northwest: Montana and Wyoming.  Her list of travel goals is also growing, and I hope she gets to a few more, in the years immediately ahead.

One of my seatmates, on the plane back, recommended a book entitled “The Third Target”, by Joel C. Rosenberg.  She was looking at the piece as if it were non-fiction, much the way some of us interpreted Tom Clancy novels, in the ’90’s.  Indeed, many fictional works are vehicles for disseminating information that would otherwise be “classified”.

I got a lot read of “The Witches:  Salem, 1692”, that is a nonfictional study of the events, and backdrop, of the Salem Witch Trials.  Kids were unruly back then, also, and, wonder of wonders, because they were roundly ignored by parents who were pre-occupied with the day-to-day grind of an oppressive life.  That teenaged girls and young women would react to being treated as chattel, by staging near-psychotic flash mob attacks on the reputations of their elders, somehow comes as no surprise.  Children have been my life, for nearly forty years.  The more neglected they have seemed, in their larger lives, the more I have sought to understand them and be of value.

Now, I am back in what has come to be Home Base.  My coming to Arizona, initially, was rather random and happenstance.  As with any such move by a rootless youth, it morphed into a place of growth.  I am still growing, and my octogenarian mother is till lucid enough to tell me that I’ve seen nothing yet.  The “Greatest Generation” will never concede to their Baby Boomer children, or anyone else, the place of the pioneer.

I look forward to the rest of this decade, and to my seventies, eighties and whatever else the Good Lord deigns to offer.  As the great Dick Van Dyke writes: “Keep Moving”. (I’m reading that book now, also).

 

 

 

 

 

Solstice

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Posted by on in Family, Social, Spiritual, Uncategorized

December 22, 2015, Saugus-  So, to mark the shortest day of the year, it is raining.  Many here, though not all, are bemoaning the lack of snow. To me, though, given how so many drive, on these all-too-narrow streets of my home town, with their dearth of left-turn accommodations and over-stressed fellow motorists, the lack of snow and its step-child, ice, is a blessing.

The four of us, my brother, Glenn, sister-in-law, Barb, our Mom and I, will mark the longest night of the year at Borders Cafe, a local Mexican food establishment.  I get my adventurous nature, at least with regard to food, from Mother.  We have long agreed that spice is the variety of life, to twist around the old bromide.

Wiccans, and those who toast the Sacred Geometer, have ever given us a special sense of this auspicious time, as well as of its opposite, the June Solstice, and of their arms, the Equinoxes.  Then again, I enjoy anyone’s celebrations, and our family’s turning the holidays into a virtual fortnight just makes for a sense that rain and a gray sky are irrelevant.

So, Splendid Solstice, everyone!  Northerners, rejoice as the days get longer, and Southerners, enjoy your still-long days at the beach and in the pool.