Category Archives: Social

The Road to 65, Mile 288: When Systems Fail

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Posted by on in impediments, Social

September 11, 2015, Prescott- I checked on my pay status, early this morning, and found that the employer in question had not deposited my due payment. So, after getting self together, I went to the office of my immediate supervisor, who looked into the matter and arranged for due payment for me, and several others who were likewise inconvenienced, either by a system glitch or by the negligence of clerks.

This being the fourteenth anniversary of the various attacks on U.S. soil, I think about systemic failures, large and small. It’s quite clear that the New York attacks were the subject of chatter, days before they happened, but human error, or insouciance, led to a lack of defensive action. Of course, implosion devices, installed during the Clinton years, led to the collapse of the Twin Towers, rather than an outward explosion, which would have compounded the deaths and destruction in lower Manhattan. That is no comfort at all for the thousands of families affected, in perpetuity, by the horror of that day, and its subsequent days of loss and suffering.

The other two major events of that day seem more surreal. There is some doubt, in several circles, as to the truth in the matter of the Pentagon attack. I have seen the Memorial, and am certain that all those who are remembered there, died a horrible death, aboard a plane. Naysayers, who wonder if there was indeed a plane, are no help to the families who lost people that day. The most likely scenario is that the plane vaporized, though the question remains: “What was done with the wreckage?” For reasons of national security, we may never know.

I have also been to the site of the Pennsylvania crash. The Earth was scorched, and there were signs of a huge crash there, when Penny and I stopped there, in 2009. There are sufficient voice recordings to back up the reports of that day. The farmer, on whose land the crash occurred, had no reason to simply give up that section of his property to the U.S. Government, on a whim. So, I am sure this event occurred, as reported.

There will always be failures of systems, large and small, whenever those in the system make errors in judgment, are fatigued, or get distracted. My father’s, and one of my high school mentor’s, exhortations to ALWAYS have a Plan B, have come in handy, time and again- and never more so than now. We may very well face a time when government grinds to a screeching halt, the finances we take for granted dissipate, however temporarily, and we are left with whatever family or community we have had the wisdom to cultivate- for a fair length of time.

I am not a doomsayer, or one who believes in a cup half-empty, yet being prepared is more than a Scout motto.

The Road to 65, Mile 283: Grillin’

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Posted by on in Entertainment, Social

September 6, 2015, Prescott- One of the benefits of being semi-settled is, invitations to gatherings start to pile up. The three-day weekend has brought me to two enormous, well-stocked and well-attended barbecues, yesterday and today, with a third slated for tomorrow.

Last night’s gathering was a birthday party for a long-time friend, belated by two days, for the sake of holding it on the weekend.

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Seasoned musicians kept the energy flowing, for nearly four hours.

This afternoon, after performing a spur-of-the-moment errand, I joined a much larger, community-wide barbecue, aimed at bringing in a wealth of non-perishable food for our county Food Bank. I noticed a sizable amount of provisions in the barrels, in addition to what I brought in.

Despite the threat of rain, we only got a few drops, and I had a pleasant visit with a few other New England “ex-pats”.

An article in today’s paper talked about somebody’s 1,000 Places to See Before You Die”. I’m peripatetic, but I can’t see going to that extent. Give me a plate of ” ‘cue” and pleasant company, and I’m set for a while.

Tomorrow will see me at yet another gathering. Yes, I had a TrimShake in the evening, then went to Planet Fitness and made room for the next round.

The Road to 65, Mile 280: Driving in Reverse

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Posted by on in distraction issues, Matters of Faith, Social

September 3, 2015, Chino Valley- I have thought a fair amount about the whole Kim Davis episode. For those who have been living their bliss to the full, lately, she is the County Clerk, in Morehead, KY, who refuses to grant marriage licenses to gay couples, citing her Christian Faith. For this defiance of Federal law, she has been jailed.

Thinking people have responded dispassionately to the matter. I have friends, both gay and straight, who have said that Ms. Davis is getting what she deserves, period, without pontificating on what has been leaked to the public about her private life. I have read other commentary that disparages Kim Davis as a person- going far beyond what seems necessary to support the rule of law. A commentary I heard on the radio, this morning, goes so far as to raise the matter of the human environment of eastern Kentucky, being somehow a factor in her thought processes.

I have been to eastern Kentucky, to Morehead, Ashland and Maysville, specifically. I am not especially fond of Hillbilly jokes, any more than I am of disparaging “humour” directed at any particular group. A professor at Berea College, interviewed this morning, pointed out that people in the mountains and rolling plains of Appalachia are as complex and diverse as people are anywhere else. I have found that to be so. There are informed and ignorant folk in any given community, from Uptown Manhattan and Beverly Hills, to the most downtrodden communities in Appalachia or the Mississippi Delta.

Ms. Davis’ issues seem to spring more from stubbornness and fear that her world is being turned upside down (which it is, in many respects), than from a lack of intelligence, or cultural stuntedness. In that sense, she has plenty of company, all along the political and social spectra. Attacking members of a given group, for the behaviour of some in the group, is akin to driving in reverse. Maybe your points will stick, but the likelihood of unforeseen problems is greater.

The Road to 65, Mile 277: Every New Beginning…..

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

August 31, 2015, Prescott- I almost used the byline, The Universe. I have begun reading “Way of the Peaceful Warrior”, Dan Millman’s 1980 book which loosely describes his inner journey to a higher functioning self, using the anthropomorphoses of Agape and Eros, a spirit guide named Socrates and a whimsical, attractive spirit named Joy.

Like Dan, I have spent a lot of my life following the Prescribed Path- following, first, a maudlin, alcohol-and-marijuana-fueled series of efforts at fitting my square peg into society’s round hole. When I was 25, I encountered an eleven-year-old boy named Mickey, who got me to quit smoking dope; in exchange for which, he gave up smoking tobacco. Five years later, I met Penny, my own spiritual guide, who became my wife, and alcohol was cast aside. At age 58, after a roiling series of life setbacks, I gave up credit cards- and the habit I had developed of blaming others for our family’s ill fortune. At age 60,   I saw my wife, my Heaven-on-Earth, transition into the spirit who guides me, day by day, no longer kept prisoner in a body that had been failing.

I have experienced beings, and phenomena, that are not easily explained in human terms: My maternal grandmother’s spirit visiting me, early one morning, when I was ten; my father’s angry spirit pushing my head into a tile wall, in response to a wayward thought I had, about a year after his passing; Penny’s spirit filling our bedroom, as her body lay dying in a hospice, ten miles away; a bright, multi-coloured light flashing frenetically, at a spot called Shalako (Emergence Place), on the floor of Palo Duro Canyon, as I sat on a nearby bench; my maternal grandfather’s spirit, regarding me with a stern eye, when I stopped shy of climbing to the top ledge of Cathedral Rock, in Sedona. These are experiences that many would regard as hallucinations, but they all occurred during daylight, when I was awake, and I haven’t used mind-altering substances since 1981.

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end”. So goes a line from the song, “Closing Time”, by SemiSonic. I see this, in terms of each day, week, month and year. I have seen my own transition from married caretaker to wandering widower. Now I am becoming a solitary seedsower, concentrating on helping to build a community. There will be other transitions ahead; other tides, rolling in, rolling out.

The Road to 65, Mile 274: I Wonder….

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Posted by on in Entertainment, Social, Spiritual

August 28, 2015, Prescott- Two things didn’t happen today: Work, for me, and letting myself get pushed around by a self-appointed overseer of this blog.

K says I’m lazy, for not putting forth “fresh material” on this site, day by day.

I wonder if he blogs.

I wonder how many hairs he will pull out, day by day, as I continue to write my blog, my way. Oh, wait, I blocked and deleted him.

I wonder how many peas can fit in a pod.

“I wonder, wonder  who wrote the Book of Love.”

“I wonder where she will stay-ay, my little runaway.”

I wonder about people I love dearly, who have stopped responding to my occasional messages.

I wonder who were Adam’s parents, since He sent his sons to another country to get married.

I wonder how the Earth cooled enough, for life to get started here in the first place.

I wonder what the songbirds are saying to one another, as their calls vary, in tone and in pitch.

I wonder how much more crap the common people of Syria will take, from those who variously want to use them as fodder, or as bait.

I wonder what’s REALLY in “Nuggets”, now that “chicken” is seldom used in advertising them.

I wonder what my beloved does, when she is not busy helping me extricate myself from mischief.

The Road to 65, Mile 272: Solitude

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Posted by on in distraction issues, Personal goals, Social, Spiritual

August 27, 2015, Prescott- I am a work in progress. A lot of baggage has been tossed aside, over the past three decades, and, more intensively, over the past six years. Blaming others, capriciousness, confusing silence, and sloppiness in my affairs have largely gone away. I find taking responsibility, being actively engaged with others and carefully planning things are far more satisfying.

After finishing a four-day stint as a substitute teacher, in Chino Valley, this afternoon, I came home and had a twenty-minute power nap. Two things happened this evening: I enjoyed a fairly good Beef Stroganoff dinner, at the Legion Post and I got an upgrade to Windows 10, on my PC. The meal was a fund-raiser, to expand our deck, so as to make it more of a place to relax. The upgrade was free, and I’m told that will be for a year, then the hand will be outstretched. I will see how well Windows 10 performs.

I am in more of a solitary mood right now, finding my own space to be a source of solace. There have been a few buzzsaws of hostility, all over social media sites, though not directed at me, per se, but towards my Faith, and towards other entities and people towards whom I feel close. Such is life, and those whose hearts are dark will always try to squash the truth, obfuscate and confuse. I need a break, of sorts, so as to figure out how to rationally and effectively stand up to such as those.

It will be a quiet weekend, with a fair degree of solitude. Then, I need to get back to work, at whatever place to which I’m called, and the cycle will continue. I feel more at peace, having stated my concerns.

The Road to 65, Mile 271: Hostels

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Posted by on in Social, Travel

August 26, 2015, Prescott- Our city has a small youth hostel, located on a quiet west side street. I’ve not had reason to go by there, but as I had positive experiences with youth, and other, hostels, this past June, I would help anyone wanting to visit here, who also enjoys the hostel life, to get reservations.

The hostels in which I stayed, in southeast Alaska, were varied in terms of gender separation vs. “coed” floors. Juneau had a very strict separation of sleeping facilities. Sitka gave the adult hostelers a choice. Ketchikan’s hostelers were all men, so the matter didn’t come up, when I was there. I usually opt for a “coed” bay, when it is permitted, as I don’t have any hidden agenda, and being with mature women, or a strong couple, just seems more normal to me.

The common rooms were in varied states of decor. Juneau had a spacious area in which to relax, and a sizable adjoining kitchen. Sitka had two small kitchens, and a very pleasant enclosed veranda, which offered a view of an eagle’s nest, in a spruce tree nearby. Ketchikan had a small kitchenette, and a TV room, which was modest but comfortable.

Going back to the hostels, for the first time since I stayed in one in San Diego, in 1980, gave me a good chance to make a number of new friends. I hope that anyone traveling either alone, or with a best friend, will consider this option. It’s not as “rough” as it sometimes sounds.

The Road to 65, Mile 270: Esperanza

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Posted by on in Assistance, Personal goals, Social

August 25, 2015, Chino Valley- This part of August has often hung heavy on me, both weather-wise and emotionally. This year, things are a tad different. I have taken sage advice, from three of the people I trust the most in this world, and have set aside my own apprehension about one of the two most important people in my life. She will be fine.

Today was the second of four days, working with a varied and somewhat troubled group of youth. Time was, when I thought I had NO IDEA how to reach out to adolescents, and hung back, accordingly. The time I spent as a counselor, on the Navajo and Hopi Nations, helped mightily in that regard. Both the bonds I developed, and the criticism I got from others, worked to help my sense of proactivity, in helping all young folks. Then, too, raising a child through turbulence smoothed many of my own rough edges.

The past two days have gone well enough, for me, and a fair amount of meaningful work has been accomplished. Towards the end of the day, a student came in, sat down, and wept, in as private a manner as possible. This is the human face of the whole immigration imbroglio. It is too easy for those who “have theirs” to demand: The Fence; the Military Force; No Dream; No Daylight. There are those who are struggling, among the people who were born and raised among a long line of “True Americans”. They are, quite often, being duped by the puppetmasters, who call for whatever it is they sense the public wants. Demagogues have done this, across the globe and down the centuries, and so it goes.

The Fence will not end the struggles of those who look like me. The young person who was surrounded by love in our classroom, this afternoon, has more than just immigration with which to contend. There are the normal day-to-day matters of adolescence, which know no frontiers. There are the hopes, the trust, and, yes, the dreams, which short-sighted people would squash. Make no mistake: This nation is not alone, in keeping up an “Us vs. Them” mentality. The very nations, from which many new arrivals come, are themselves keepers of a draconian mindset, when it comes to “The Other”. It is wrong, no matter where it is promulgated.

The young person left class today with some hope, esperanza. I wish the same for any child or teen, anywhere. There is so much to be done.

The Road to 65, Mile 269: Honour

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Posted by on in Assistance, Personal goals, Service Activities, Social

August 24, 2015, Chino Valley- I will be working here, in a small Middle School class, from now to Thursday. Today, a school-wide assembly focused on self-worth and standing up to bullying and intimidation.

I spent some time, in each class, aside from the assembly, getting kids to talk about their individual talents. Some have “none”- a sublime fallacy. I must say, though, that when I was their age, I would have said the same thing. Honouring oneself is a long-term process, but need it be so?

I have a soft place in my heart for teens who feel downtrodden, or beaten down. This is the time of life when people need special encouragement to stand up for themselves, albeit in a way that is not embarrassing or ostentatious. There are no uglies in this forest.

The Assembly did a good job of explaining this to the students- and further making the point that a person who follows his or her finer passions, can never be bowled over by the vicissitudes of life. Several proactive and hard-working teens were shown as examples of how to rise above some very challenging life situations, none of which were of their own making.

One young lady became an archer; another overcame a “lack of talent” in running, and has mastered that skill; a young man, who is very short, became a fine golfer; another young man established several community efforts to help homeless teens.

The students who watched all this, can each overcome their own challenges. This, as much as anything else, keeps me working in the schools, rather than in retail or in an office, somewhere. I have a drive, to build honour in yet another rising generation.

UPDATE: My place, for the foreseeable future, is here in the West. I spoke with a family member who has his finger on the pulse of things back in Massachusetts. He reassured me that visiting Mom is a good thing; but it is not necessary for me to move back there, on her behalf. So, in the interests of being helpful, in the real sense of the word, I stay the course. I appreciate all the support that various friends and family have offered. I’ll still visit there, over the holidays, but then it will be right back here to AZ.

The Road to 65, Miles 267-8: Tears

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Posted by on in American Legion, Arcosanti, Slow Food, Social

August 22-23, 2015, Prescott- I have read a few posts online, and pondered some situations in real time, this rather busy weekend, and have shed very real tears. Mostly, they come from regarding the genuine kindness shown to suffering, frightened children, or from reading of the very real emotions felt by those who have lost loved ones, so far this year, and there are so many such friends. My tears come when I am alone, and can focus on things like the pain of other human beings.

Saturday was largely celebratory, in my Prescott circle: A mesquite flour pancake breakfast reminded me of how we would function, if the stock market crashed and took many people’s jobs, and life savings, with it. We would learn to forage, and we would have to get along better than many of us have chosen to get along with others. Mostly, though, my breakfast companion and I enjoyed the delicious repast and talked of a plan she has to start a sustainable community in east Texas, somewhere.

I left her to take her first tour of Arcosanti, and went to an American Legion picnic, where lunch, mercifully, was not served until nearly 1:30 PM. I had to contrast the atmosphere with the earlier event. Legion folks tend to welcome one another to sit down, talk and pass the time convivially. (The mostly upper class folks who attend Slow Food events tend to frown on anyone they don’t know sitting anywhere near their table. Fortunately, my friend and I had a section of the long table, where we would be far enough away from the well-dressed woman who recoiled in annoyance, as we took our seats.)

Anyway, I got up and danced with a few of the ladies, during the live music portions of the picnic, both before and after the meal. I am a passable dancer, when it comes to the steps we all learned as teens and young adults. The easy conversations we had also made the event more worthwhile.

Sunday morning, after the customary Legion breakfast, our area Baha’is gathered, and discussed matters of living and sharing our Faith, and serving the larger community. As we talked, a heavy downpour, which not everyone had expected, blessed our consultations. The sky cleared later, long enough for us to get to our after-meeting lunch. Then, during lunch, there was a second downpour. I think the spirits cried tears of joy.

My mood right now is pensive, because the whole matter of my mother’s safety, this coming winter, remains unresolved. It’ll get figured out, soon, and either I will do my filial labour of love, or actually stay in the Southwest, for the bulk of the next twelve to sixteen months. I am grateful, though, for my varied and widening circle of friends.