Category Archives: Social

A Small-Time Mariner’s Voyage, Day 12: Meanwhile, Back On Land

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Oct. 22, 2014, Newport Beach- Each time I venture out to San Diego, I make a foray into Orange County, and usually try to get up further along the coast. This time was no different, and I met an online friend and mentor at Crystal Cove State Park, Newport Beach, in mid-day. J is always enthusiastic about the California coast, and is a good source of information about the state of affairs in SoCal, which is more crucial to the welfare of the rest of us than we might care to think.

The weather was dry and mild, when we landed in San Diego, two days earlier. It was a nice Monday and Tuesday in San Diego, as I mentioned previously.  Wednesday morning found me headed north, on a smooth-flowing freeway and with comparatively little traffic on the Pacific Highway, from Dana Point up to Crystal Cove. There were about a dozen people on the beach itself, being Wednesday of a school week. As we strolled the beach, the work of a couple of children was in evidence.SAM_3136

Beachcomber Cafe, where we had lunch, is a reliable spot, for good food and entertaining people-watching. J and I have been here twice before, and spent close to an hour talking of her concerns about California and of my experiences in Honolulu and at sea.

After lunch,we focused on the troubled north side cottages of the beachfront. Crystal Cove Alliance is working on restoration of the deteriorating structures, and has largely completed the work on the south side. The rest of the work on the north will likely begin in December, according to the flyer I read. These cottages are actually unique for Orange County beaches, which are largely structure-free, aside from changing rooms and lifeguard towers. Their restoration would be a fine achievement for Newport Beach.

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For more on Crystal Cove, please see my earlier post:  “Back to Crystal Cove”, 4/5/2013.

After, J bid me farewell, I decided to end my northward quest, for now, and headed back towards Arizona, opting to take the back roads from Oceanside to Palm Desert. It’s a winding route, but traffic is minimal, especially once past Temecula. I stopped only to wonder at Cahuila Tehanet, just southwest of Palm Desert.

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The rugged outback of SoCal’s Colorado Desert seems to be one of the sub-state’s best-kept secrets. Well, my list just keeps getting longer. For the moment, though, I felt the homeward tug, and made it to Blythe, and Relax Inn- recharging, before driving back to Prescott, the following day. Like Arnold, I’ll be BAAHCK.

My Favourites List: Ten Prescott Restaurants

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October 8, 2014, Prescott- My next few posts will focus on the places, and people, who help make this life sweet. Living alone, I get out and walk around Prescott just about every day. Here are my ten favourite places in town, to stop in for lunch or dinner, or an occasional breakfast.

10.  Scout’s- This is a novel and refreshingly-themed place to get a tasty sub for lunch. Each item is named for a particular National Park, and it’s all made from scratch. Soups are good here, also. I stop here when getting my car serviced nearby, or when going for a haircut at Fantastic Sam’s.

9. Rosa’s- Arguably the best Italian restaurant, in a town filled with good pizza and pasta. I usually grab a seat at one of the long counters. It’s always homey, and sometimes raucous. The food never disappoints.

8. Sue Ann’s Apple Pan– I’ve only been here a few times, being a “breakfast at home” kind of guy. Sue Ann’s lunch items, though, are also made fresh. Here, too, I sit at the counter, feeling more at home that way.

7.  Lone Spur- Being right downtown, this is one of two places to really load up on food, if the day requires a “one-meal” schedule.  It’s all great stuff, and runs the gamut from heart-healthy fruits and grains to local cultural icons like chorizo, or biscuits and gravy.

6.  Zeke’s Eatin’ Place- This used to be the toast, and a lot of other stuff, of Prescott Valley. Now, Zeke’s is an anchor for the resurgent Frontier Village, on the Prescott Yavapai Indian Reservation, just east of town. Like Lone Spur, Zeke’s is an old-fashioned, pack-it-in, establishment. The food is well-prepared and hearty, and one can easily take home enough for two more meals.,

5.  Wildflower Bakery- This is the only chain establishment on my list, and it’s always crowded, but the counter staff and servers are as friendly as if they were working for Mom and Pop. It’s all healthy here, even the pastries. The fireplace adds to a relaxing ambiance. Wildflower is on the east side of Prescott’s Gateway Mall, three miles east of downtown.

4. Shannon’s- Here’s another small, downtown establishment, with freshly made sandwiches, and the best soups in town. Shannon and Murphy specialize in cheesecakes, which come as a treat, every now and then- and make great gifts.

3.  Soldi’s- Three spunky young ladies, work out of a stationary food cart, in a garden setting. The kids, helped by their mother, put on a fabulous lunch, with modest portions. Friday nights feature custom hors d’oeuvres, to which one may bring one’s own beverage. Soldi’s is bound for nothing but success.

2. Park Avenue Deli- An unassuming strip mall place, on the southwest corner of downtown, and on the front end of a liquor store, of all places, Park Avenue is run by two mellow young folks- Jessica and Jon. The place is geared towards parties of three or more, but I’ve always been accommodated when dining alone.It’s never dull, with high-powered business people, groups of guys or ladies who seem to be friends of one of the staff, and random seniors coming in from the pharmacy across the way. I often learn more about what’s going on in town here than I do from Prescott’s Facebook page. The food is excellent and well-portioned.

1. Raven Cafe- Everything here is organic, both food and beverages. It’s another lively spot, and seems to be full with regulars, no matter what time of day or evening I happen by. Raven is also geared towards groups, but Lone Wolves are welcomed. Staff is a bit phlegmatic towards non-drinkers, but the food is fabulous and the rest of the ambiance is refreshing.

At most of these places, the staff would recognize me as the quiet, unassuming soul who takes a place at the counter, or at a small table, orders pleasantly but quickly, eats relatively quickly and takes his leave without fanfare. Nonetheless, I appreciate everything they do to make our lives here more pleasant and well-nourished.

Intolerance

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September 1, 2014, Prescott- I read a rather inane discussion, a night or so ago, as to how to deal with an unruly child.  The writer was venting his frustration with parents who don’t teach their children respect for others, from an early age.  One person. also a friend of mine, came on with a Jonathan Swift-style “modest proposal”.  Knowing this individual, it was completely satirical and sarcastic.  Another individual advocated extreme physical punishment- of the child, as he “detests children”.  Most likely, that individual had the childhood from Hell.  I didn’t.  In fact, despite my autism and tendency to wander, my family life was supportive, joyful and stable.

As our expectations rise, and our fears do not subside, there is a tendency to show intolerance of anyone who’s different- by age group, ability level, economic status, sexual orientation, marital status, race, gender- one here gets off scot-free  Each of us bothers someone else and each of us is bothered, in like manner.  The speed with which we live our lives, leaves no room for discomfort or adjustment.  So, who has the issue?

I have to own my issues.  I have made my family and friends cringe, when I have owned up to a serious mistake or foible.  My reasoning has been, this is the only way to atone, or to rectify the error.  Usually, that has left me vindicated in the long run, though it has made for short-term discomfort, especially financial.  People are very intolerant of anything that costs them money.

I am no longer intolerant of others, by and large.  I will not brook abuse of those weaker than the person who is striking out, especially if it is physical or sexual abuse. There are basic standards of decency. Differences which rankle, though, are presented to us by the Universe because to each of us is given the task of becoming more clearly, part of an organic whole. In my case, the answer has, so far, been patience.  Most of those who have annoyed me,  or who have attacked my views, both passively and aggressively, have come back around, so long as I don’t indulge in a counterattack. Maybe, that’s the bottom  line.

Shattered Mirth

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NOTE: I will continue with my posts on Europe, later this evening. In light of today’s tragic loss, however, these words need to be said.

When I was ten years old, I asked a neighbour if I could borrow her copy of “Look Magazine”. It had a feature on Red Skelton, then a very popular television comedian. Mr. Skelton had a host of personas, which he trotted out, week by week, to help others feel happier. I liked many of them, and often sat up past nine, to catch his latest performances.

The article dealt with his struggles-alcoholism and depression. It worried the heck out of me, and was a bit confusing to my ten-year-old mind. How could a man who was so excellent at entertaining others be so downtrodden, in his own life? My Dad’s answer was very clear: “This is Red’s job. Actors often have a hard time, when they go home and have to deal with the same messes and dilemmas we each have to face.” I lit a candle for Red Skelton, the next time I went to church. He lived a fair number of years afterward, so maybe the outpouring of well wishes from many of us, after that article, had a positive effect.

Humour and sadness; light and shadow; front and back- the traditional theatrical memes of European theater show a laughing face and a sorrowful face. We each get to go through plenty of both. For most of us, though, there is a lifeline:Faith; friendships; life partners. Those who, as the departed Robin Williams expressed it “Have people who make you feel alone”, are so often at far more risk than the busy beavers who surround them seem to realize.

So, we are left to pick up the pieces of our shattered mirth. Mr. Williams’ wife, daughter and extended family will, one would hope, have time to grieve, to process and to know that, underneath all the pain, which itself was buried under the humour, there was the most intense love for humanity- ever struggling to get out and to find its way to the surface.

In his work, I saw that of Robin Williams, in his “Patch Adams”, “Good Will Hunting”, “Mrs. Doubtfire”, “Dead Poets Society”- even in his minor works, like “Hook” and “One Hour Photo”. Love for mankind, however quirkily or obliquely presented, was the man’s cornerstone. This is what one ought recall and remember.

For us who have another day, another year, another fighting chance- perhaps, just perhaps, there will be an outstretched hand to someone who is known to be struggling, someone who feels alone in the crowd. Maybe then, the tears shed by many of us this day will meet with fertile ground. Rest in Peace, Robin. You were a better friend to many of us than most realized, before today.

An Eastward Homage, Day 15, Part III: A Breton Cultural Sampler

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One of the hours best spent on my journey, last month, was examining the Hall of Fame in the Breton Cultural Center, part of Vannes Tourism Office, on the waterfront.

I am going to list those of whom I took particular note, along with their specialty, and a link to their website, if they have one.  Breton culture is a fine blend of Celtic and French heritage.  

Trio EDF- Musicians (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6GBP8-la1UE

Patrick Jeffroy- Chef du Cuisine (http://www.hoteldecarantec.com/va/restaurant_va.html)

Jean Lebrun- Journalist ( http://www.franceinter.fr/emission-la-marche-de-l-histoire)

Les Dernieres Bigoudenes- Distinctive coiffure (http://videos.tf1.fr/jt-13h/2010/les-dernieres-bigoudenes-en-coiffe-font-de-la-resistance-5866405.html)

Jacques Le Goff- Historian (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacques_Le_Goff).
Erwann Creach- Film maker ( http://www.youtube.com/user/MrErwann75)
Ondine Morin- Oceanographer (http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyikKNkeQsjyka8JwopG8XQ)
Tristan Nihouarn- Musician (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqC0FCkgGvU)
Alain Stivell- Musician (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRpNVMjnDmY)
Edwy Plenel- Journalist ( http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/edwy-plenel-is-the-journalist-detested-by-politicians-and-colleagues-alike-the-most-hated-man-in-france-8588747.html)
Yann Tiersen- Pianist (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzMWqlMi854)

Yelle- Musician (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QOxKCKC09A)

Kan-Ha Diskan- Musicians (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IK4BM-CUZD0)

There are larger cultural forces afoot, as well:

http://www.jazzavannes.fr/- Jazz a Vannes, each August;

http://www.musicienschanterelle.com/spip/index.php- Cellovanees, also in August.

A friend of mine will be attending this festival, in nearby Lorient: ( http://us.rendezvousenfrance.com/en/events/lorient-interceltic-festival-0)

So, there is so much for the soul, in Vannes and in Brittany, generally.

NEXT: The Distant Signals of Carnac

A Tale of Two Debacles

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Transportation has always been a sideshow, in the life of a traveler.  It is, of course, a basic element of travel, but is often used as a fulcrum, to get the traveler to notice the discomfort of those who live, day to day, where he/she happens to be headed, or from where the departure is taking place.

I am going to continue, in my next installment of “An Eastward Homage”, with the story of Versailles, the town.  For a few moments, though, I want to focus on two modes of transport, two countries, and two large entities coming to grips with the difficulties that come with an excess of size.

On June 12, my sole intent was to take the SNCF train from Brest to Rennes, then to Rouen.  The French train strike was, however, still full on.  The journey could only be accomplished, thus, by going from Brest to Rennes to Le Mans to Paris- Gare St. Lazare to Rouen.  My France Pass being a carte blanche for ANY First or Second Class train, over a nine-day period within one month, I thought I was set for a comfortable, seated trip.  Enter a horde of Gauls, coming from a trip to St. Malo, in northeast Brittany.  First, I was rousted from a seat, by a young lady, whose ticket had that seat’s number.  I moved to a second seat,and an imposing young man came along, with that  seat’s number on HIS ticket.  (Bear in mind that, on a France Pass, there are no tickets with numbered seats.)  I moved again.  Two Orthodox rebbes, who appeared to be father and son, appeared at the seat, raised their eyebrows, Gallic-style, and I moved again- to Standage.  There, in the no man’s land between cars, were a family of four, a university co-ed, (who was visibly miffed at the presence of two little boys, and even more miffed at an Americain joining the group,)  a French biker and his missus (headed to his shop at Montparnasse) and a hapless Italian tourist who had a France Pass as well,  and had been booted from HIS seat by a nurse whose ticket had that seat’s number.  The train had, in the aggregate, about 30% more people on board than was practicable.  Still, we all made it, shared the four small, folding seats that are available between cars, and just looked after one another.  The initial shock on the faces of the French people in standage at the thought of an American NOT sitting comfortably in a First Class coach gave way to the realization that I had no such expectation of undue privilege, in the midst of such chaos and mass discomfort among my hosts.  It was a good outing- for me.

It was an experience that served well to show the visitor just how absurd the bureaucrats and the unionists can be, and the extent to which their absurdity discomfits the average French person. Those fighting the Train Battle likely were not out riding the train, during the impasse.  They did, effectively, send France back to the regional and the parochial trains of thought that are described so well by Graham Robb, in his “The Discovery of France”.  It was, for two weeks or so, impossible to go from Rennes to Rouen, or from Rouen to Amiens, par train.

Fast forward to Sunday, July 6, at Logan International Airport, in Boston.  There was an airplane sitting at the departure gate, ready to go to Charlotte, or so everyone thought.  My journey would soon be over, or so I thought.  Airline policy is that a fresh cockpit team takes over after so many hours.  Our fresh cockpit crew was coming from Washington, DC.  There was a “difficulty” with the plane bringing the captain and first mate from Reagan.  We were told they would be in Boston at 9:30, and we would be underway thirty minutes behind schedule.  No one would miss their connections.

That was at 9 PM.  Seventy-five minutes later, we greeted the cockpit crew with silent cheers.  Fifteen minutes after that, we were airborne.  One hour and forty-five minutes after take-off, we landed in Charlotte.  Nearly an hour later, upon learning our “safe” connections had gone on without us, we were assigned various hotel rooms.  My seat-mate on the plane and I were sent to Holiday Inn Express.  The hotel informed us that a shuttle at 2 AM would be impossible and we were to take a taxi, for which the airline would reimburse the person who picked up the tab.  That ended up being my seatmate, as he had cash and I didn’t.  We each got our own room, got from 2-4.5 hours of sleep, and the next day caught a shuttle from hotel to airport.

After bidding my previous night’s seatmate farewell, I met another man who had stayed at Express.  He nonchalantly told of having taken a shuttle to Express- at 2:30 AM.  All he did was call the same person who had told me at 2 AM, “impossible”, and a shuttle was dispatched.

This goes to show that, the more things, and locations, change- the more they stay the same.  Man plans, bureaucrats bumble, common folk work together to get around the snafus- and God laughs.

It Wasn’t the Women’s Fault

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“There’s a killer on the road.  His brain is squirming like a toad.”- Ray Manzarek, “Riders On The Storm”

I love women; always have.  Even when they were girls, I thought they were beautiful.  My Mother was my first best friend, and I tried to be hers.  My relationships with girls and women ever since have been friendships first, and, in about five or six cases, they were more than that.  The friendship, then and now, is the, most important element.  It is what held my marriage together, even when I was making a mess of my life, in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, and it was what gave Penny some semblance of quality of life, in her declining years, later in that merciless decade and in the first fourteen months of this one.

I’ve had friends of both genders, and of all ages, before and since. Beautiful women are among my best friends now. There is no romance, to cloud the vision, and when a few of my women friends have started seriously dating, I am among the first to cheer them on. It’s a happiness thing, a means of some fulfillment. More important to me are their dreams, their goals. Don’t get me wrong. If someone special comes into my life again, it’ll be just fine. This is not a priority right now; that’s all.

It was therefore with profound shock that I read and viewed news reports of the carnage in the Isla Vista area of Santa Barbara, on Saturday.  The deranged assailant/killer blamed rejection by women- in a pseudonarcissistic rant, which fooled no one. Santa Barbara was, and is, one of my favourite places in California.  I was last there in 1997, but keep abreast of  more seemly events there, through an online friend who has ties to the area.  It is, like many places in our modern society, a fast-paced and sometimes anonymous community.  When making connections, one must be patient with those around you.

I am somewhat of an outlier, myself.  I do not blame anyone else for that.  I live comfortably, I make friends more easily than I used to.  In my youth, I did not have women throwing themselves at me.  I was considered “an individual” by those of the elite who were thoughtful.  I was seen as a bit weird, by the rest.  That was never something for which I cast blame on others.  We all rail at our plights, now and then, and I did, just before meeting Penny.  Figuring that it was the way I was going about meeting people that was the problem, helped me right my social sailboat.

So, buying expensive clothing and driving a BMW didn’t work for Elliot Rodger. Is anyone surprised by this? If anything, it confirms what one of my friends from the early 1970’s had to say- “No personality, no date.”- Lisa was gorgeous, but never shallow. Apparently, neither were the three young victims in Isla Vista. My condolences to the families of the dead. My entreaties to the Elliots who are still out there: It is not the woman’s fault if she doesn’t find you attractive. Each of us has a personality, and the tools for determining whether chemistry exists between us and others. No personality match, no relationship.

Time, Times and Half A Time

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

Rev 12:14″ And to the woman were given two wings of a great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent.”

It has been just shy of a year, since one of the most horrific events to befall my adopted town took place on a remote ridge:  The Yarnell Hill Fire, which claimed the lives of 19 Wildland Firefighters.  Every family left behind has suffered unimaginable grief.  A widow, just shy of 30 years of age, has the task of raising four children, albeit with a strong, emotionally-supportive extended family and an upstanding Faith Community.  For the past seven months, she, and they, have dealt with a bureaucracy and its supporters, whose mantra has been “Life happens.  Make do with what you have.”

Fine words for those who may have suffered through the Depression, by taking in laundry, picking weeds or digging ditches, but the world has changed a tad.  Much water has gone under many bridges.  The issue in this case, though, is that while all the crew members worked equally as hard as the next, only some, by the interpreted letter of the law, were well-tended by the system.  The rest were to find other means of support.

After 1 1/2 days of hearings, the regulatory authority in this case determined, by majority vote, that the young widow and her children were indeed entitled to full benefits, under the appropriate system.  Our system may be slow, may often need careful, patient action to correct its mistakes, but today is proof that it works.  Today is proof that, even in our times of instant gratification-or-nothing, not giving up is essential.

On a far different note, I came home and read a  lengthy rejoinder to a comment I had made, relative to the Islamic Faith.  The author cites chapter and verse to show that Islam is inherently evil, and that anything said to the contrary is naive and “PC”.  I will obviously have to do a lot of research before responding to the innuendo, just as the legal team which prevailed in this week’s hearing had to do an enormous amount of work, in righting  a serious wrong.

Saint John the Divine, in the passage above, alludes to a desperate soul getting assistance from unlikely sources, and in a most unexpected way.  Those with a stake in an established system will naturally do all they can to guard that system- be it a governmental structure, or a code of beliefs. We must also bear in mind that many a misguided set of beliefs or codes of regulations themselves are rooted in correcting both real and perceived injustice. The needs of the  weak, the suffering, and the pure in heart, however, have a far more powerful set of allies to meet them.  It just takes longer to address them fully.

I also note that another young family, on the other side of the country, received word that THEIR anxiety and difficulties will now also be relieved- on a long-term basis.  Time, and time again, we seek relief.  Never give up!

Moving Seamlessly

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

The young firefighter described his, and his unit’s, work, over the course of a year, as moving seamlessly from one set of tasks to another.  This is what I admire most about so many of those who have taken on difficult, dangerous and often thankless, unappreciated tasks as their life’s work.  The unit in question works under an administration which seems to neither understand nor care much for those under its charge.  That administration is getting a rather long overdue education today and tomorrow.

I have said in the past that, even as I have good friends in every living generation, I am finding I relate best to Millennials.  The sense of commitment to a better world is just below the surface among all ages, yet nowhere is the energy and drive to truly create a functioning and equitable global society stronger than it is among teens and twenty-somethings.  Gen Z (those fourteen and under) seems just as promising, so this could be a confirmation that the world, towards which so many have striven,  is on its way, even as so much that is rotten needs to be cleared out.

We may not move forward with absolute seamlessness, and there are plenty of non-angelic types among the younger generation, but as I move about the city of Prescott, around Arizona or across the country and to other parts of the world, I sense there is a purposeful mien among the youth.  It goes beyond idealism, which, if left to stand alone, becomes cynicism and gives way to creature comforts, drug abuse and paranoia. Maybe, with the current younger generations, the lack of time-honoured opportunities which many of us enjoyed as youth, has forced self-reliance, group action and innovation to the fore early on in their lives.  Certainly, technology has helped greatly, in that regard.

I have come under a lot of fire from many of my fellow Boomers and from several Gen-X’ers recently, for my past few posts.  I can’t share their cynicism, though, and while contemplating the rest of my life, I can only see good things for the human race, in the aggregate.  Those of my contemporaries who agree with my assessment have been equally vocal, so maybe I, too, am moving seamlessly from one day, and one set of tasks, to the next.

Choices

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

I listened to Tape 10 of the series, “The Eleven Forgotten Laws”, last night.  It was entitled “The Law of Sacrifice”.  The premise is simple:  To get one thing, one must give up another.  I find the  basis for this applies in just about all aspects of life.  Let’s look at three examples.

There is a restaurant menu- Seven items appeal, but of course today, for this meal, only one may be chosen.  Of course, the only thing that is directly “sacrificed” is the ability to eat the other six items at this sitting, unless the restaurant is buffet-style.  Some may moan that their money is being sacrificed, but compensation is not the same thing as giving up something.  The restaurant, generally speaking, deserves to be paid for its fare and service.

When one gets married, it is only fair to the spouse that romances with others are no longer a part of your life.  Of course, there are those in Swinging or Open Marriage relationships, but they’re like the buffets- not the usual situation.  One’s spouse, and you, are deserving of respect and fidelity.

The last reflects my life, at present.  When one is drawn to travel, it could be for any number of reasons.  The same is true of those who elect to stay at home.  There are many events going on, in the place(s) you choose to visit.  There may well be many events going on, simultaneously, in the place you call home.

My point is, be comfortable with the choices that get made.  They are yours- and as such, will draw both praise and criticism.  No one knows what’s best for you better than you do.  While life goes one, fully, as it should, in your absence, it works best when the response to “We’ll miss you!” is “Thank you, and I look forward to your stories and photos of all that will have happened here, while I was gone.”

Bob Proctor and Mary Morrissey encourage us to be glad that we have free choices, which are indicative of an abundant Universe.