Actual Vacation, Day 6

2

November 25, 2023, Grapevine- Today was a day for bringing my wardrobe more into line with my reduced girth-so to Grapevine Mills, it was, after hosting a sumptuous brunch for my little family, at Egg Farm Cafe. I acceded to Yunhee’s request that I take clothes shopping a bit more slowly-and try stuff on. Three pairs of better-fitting pants and a smaller belt later, we left the folks at Old Navy and Nautica a bit happier.

Every year seems to get its sea legs, with the beginning of terrestrial (as opposed to astronomical) Spring. This year was no exception. The weight reduction program picked up steam, from March through May. I was down to 174, and still keeping with the program.

Other transitions happened. We lost an extended family member on March 3. Marion Fusi’s life was one of passionate love and concern for those around her. Two old lions of the Dineh Nation, Peterson Zah and Jack Jackson,Sr., left to be with the Holy People,at about the same time. Baha’is Lee Panek, III, Lisa Janti, Helen Kiely, Nancy Jordan, Jack McCants and Brianna Mowzoon joined the ranks of the Supreme Concourse. An old Xanga friend, Michel Fauquet, turned off his keyboard, for the last time. A fixture in my childhood, Hazel Stocker, went to join her steadfast husband. Celebrities who affected my life, at one point or another also went to the ether: Harry Belafonte, George Maharis, Astrud Gilberto, Amitai Etzioni, Jim Brown and Tina Turner.

A New Mexico jaunt, in mid-March, started at the home of old Baha’i friends, in Tonalea, AZ, at the foot of Black Mesa, a worthy destination in itself. The historical site of Aztec Ruins, in northwest New Mexico, followed, with an edifying walk in the rain. Then came a brief Santa Fe overnight, with calls on friends at Henry & The Fish and the Pantry Restaurant.

My Red Cross service was both local-in flooded Camp Verde, and further afield, in equally flooded Watsonville, CA. Taking a leadership role, especially at the latter site, was new, but I held my own. My team respected me, and immediate supervisors were approving of what we did.

California would see me again, in May, as a train took me from Flagstaff to Los Angeles, and between other trains and charter buses, the route continued through the Central Valley-with enjoyable stays at a hostel in Sacramento, on either end of a trip over to Reno and Carson City. Between those two cities, a RAV4 proved a delightful mode of transport. Being with Michele and the kids is always a pleasure. There was a loss of keepsake, on the way back-somehow, at either Bakersfield or Los Angeles, my jacket was taken from the luggage well and with it, the locket that contained a fading photo of Penny and Aram, when he was a baby-along with Penny and her mother, when Penny was a baby. Life went on.

The year was indeed coming to fruition and I was prepared for the camps at Bellemont-even putting in a day of solo service, raking a fair amount of pine needles, before having to head back to Prescott. There would also be a northbound trip, through the Central Valley, and beyond. Next up: June-August.

Actual Vacation, Day 5-

2

November 24, 2023, Grapevine- Turkey Day leftovers made for a nice lunch, as they tend to do on “Black Friday”, and for days afterward. The day is crisp and clear, and many are headed to shopping malls/centers for Deals on Wheels-and on just about everything else. Son and I are not among them. He is taking a short break from the academic grind, and I am just taking a break, in general.

The Universe has not taken a break, of course. I learned, to my sadness, that an extended family member lost her spouse, a few weeks ago. They were a tightly-bonded couple, yet thankfully the family branch from which she comes is equally tightly-bonded, and will help her take one day at a time. Having been in similar shoes, a dozen years ago, I will keep them both in my heart.

The Force gives, as well as takes- 24 people who were kidnapped on October 7 have been released by their captors, in a prisoner exchange. Those freed by Hamas will go back to their homes and families, for a bittersweet Passover. Those freed by Israel will go home to their families, and face more uncertainty, at the conflict may well continue.

As is my wont, it is that time of year to look back at the past twelve months. This time, let us consider them, a quarter at a time. December, ’22-February, ’23- saw several leave our midst: Three stalwart Legionnaires, Gene Smylie (whose wife had passed a few weeks prior), Corky Hintz and Dwight Peters each had an outsized influence on the affairs of Post 6. Theirs will not be easy shoes to fill, but it looks like people are stepping up nicely. An old Baha’i mentor and friend, Bob Riggs, went to join his wife, in the spirit world. Celebrities, who influenced me in oblique ways, also left: Christine McVie, Barbara Walters, Jeff Beck, David Crosby, Raquel Welch, Gina Lollobrigida.

December-February provided many substitute opportunities, some of them for multiple days. Anything I can do to help children thrive is worth waking in the dark. Community service slots, at Solid Rock’s Monday night dinners, helping break down the Saturday Farmers Market, serving as co-host for Saturday morning Zoom calls and whatever the Red Cross needed, filled several days. Hikes and meals with friend Akuura also kept me physically on an even keel.

What made the biggest difference though, was going into an intensive weight reduction program-with heavy duty exercise, a strict meal plan and more resolve-courtesy of Ben Filer and True North Nutrition. As of February 28, I was well under 200 lbs. Dental health remained good, as did the skin scene.

Journeys always take their places in my world- a three-day California visit, in December, reconnected me with Ocean Beach and I found my spot there: Samesun Hostel. I also accomplished a hike down to Trestles Beach, San Clemente. House of Trestles was nearly deserted, but Harpoon Henry’s, in Dana Point, was delightful as ever.

February took me to southern Arizona, for a few days. Return visits to Boyce Thompson Arboretum and to Bisbee were coupled with introductions to Biosphere II, San Pedro House, the town of Patagonia and Nogales’ Pimeria Alta Museum.

Next up, a look back at March-May.

Actual Vacation, Day 4

4

November 23, 2023, Grapevine- The plates were full, the food well-crafted and the three of us, enjoyed every part of this meal-on what, at least to me, is the auspicious 23rd day of the 11th month, in the 23rd year of the 21st Century, AD/CE. Where there is love, there is good food and an attitude of gratitude.

My gratitudes, this year, are many: The program at True North Nutrition, which started me on the systematic loss of forty-seven pounds, between February and November; the growth in my circle of friends-in Prescott, across the continent and in the Philippines, where I connected with a sponsored youth and his mother, chatted up a beleaguered farmer, about whose cause I will be updating quite often, in the months ahead and the Baha’is of the Manila Metro area, three of whom in particular made my stay memorable, through their constant accompaniment; the continued good health of my immediate and extended family; my opportunities for service in the Prescott area-and through the Red Cross, in Watsonville, CA, in the aftermath of a disastrous flood situation, last Spring; the children who let me help them, in their long-term striving to grow and develop their strengths.

As always happens, after the meal, we took to a short, but brisk, trail. Oak Grove Park lies across Grapevine Lake from Rockledge, which we visited last year. There are probably 5-6 miles of short trails, but the three of us stuck to the paved lengths this time. Here are a few scenes of the area.

Near dock, Oak Grove Park, Grapevine
West end of Grapevine Lake, at Oak Grove Park
A boat house, through the trees
Small quartz quarry, Oak Grove Park

This is another of my gratitudes, for the variety of nature that is ever accessible to share. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Actual Vacation, Day 3

4

November 22, 2023, Grapevine- There are all kinds of journeys to be had, in this life and beyond.

While exercising, back at Home Base, last week, I watched a segment of an “adventures in car repair” show, on the Motor Trend Channel which, as you might imagine, has several such programs. The journey that one crew undertook, never brought them much outside their shop, their supply places or their test drive circuit, but it was certainly a fascinating peregrination.

The vehicle on which they were working had one functioning part: The drive train (actually, only the flywheel). Everything else, from the transmission to the windshield wipers, was messed up, beyond imagining. Somehow, they began work on turning the heap of metal into something resembling a useful piece of equipment. It took them seventeen months-and $48,000 of the owner’s money-but it came off the rack as good as anything out of River Rouge or Smyrna.

Almost as exhausting, to my imagination, was Julie Powell’s cooking of every recipe in Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. Not falling victim to a miasma of conceit took a lot of energy, though criticism from Ms. Child certainly must have helped, in that respect.

There are other such journeys of mind and heart. I have gone on a few: Reading every book in the Harry Potter series, followed by reading every existing volume of George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire”-preceded, long ago, by absorbing each volume of John Jakes’ “The Kent Family Chronicles”. I see where Mr. Jakes passed on, earlier this year. His work was what rekindled a love of the printed page, that had been dampened, over the years, by one thing or another.

Writing is, of course, another path I can take. In my Xanga days, some whimsical stories came out of this imagination. I lost track of them, when Xanga folded and no longer have access to that medium’s successor sites, which own the rights to everything anyone ever wrote on Xanga. Still, there may be some fiction forthcoming on this Word Press, if for no other reason than to keep the travel blogs from getting tiresome to my readership. Then, there are growing different vegetables and fruit, learning to repair different items, increasing fluency in different languages and so forth-all good for brain and body.

There came a sad notice that one of my former students, who has struggled with health issues, since a terrible auto accident, some years back, is entering the final phase of this life. I certainly pray for his comfort, and if possible, recovery, but passing on is, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha once described it, “yet another journey, for which one should carefully prepare.” May the best thing happen, in his case, as in that of anyone who is close to transition.

We soldier on.

Actual Vacation, Day Two

2

November 21, 2023, Grapevine- There is a small gym here, at Terrawood. It has about half of the Full Body exercise machines that we have at Planet Fitness, back at Home Base 1. So, I got in some elliptical work, leg stretches and curls, chest presses and shoulder presses-as well as getting the steps in, right after a hearty meal of bulgogi with gochu-jong (hot pepper paste), over rice. Snacks and meals are faithfully followed by exercise here. There is even a nieghbour who works her treadmill on the front porch.

I am definitely happy that there is more emphasis on both eating healthily and exercising regularly, in this suburban Dallas community. Even shopping does not have to be a sedentary affair: Grapevine Mills is right across the street from four of the apartment complexes that line the boulevard.

There is no set agenda this week, so naturally, I used some time to reserve rooms and ferry space, for next May’s Atlantic Canada visit. This is more because the spaces fill up fast, for places like St. Pierre & Miquelon and Twillingate. At any rate, those ships will sail, with me on board. (The main event, a milestone for the Baha’i community of Eskisoni, on Unamaki/Cape Breton, is the post around which all these other plans revolve.)

This ship is floating nicely, also with me on board. “John Adams”, courtesy of the late David McCullough, is here at my side. My little family is forging ahead, with their respective goals, the work week being suitably short, before America’s de facto second National Day. The main thing, for me, is that everyone close to me has their personal agency intact. That is what will generate a feeling of inner peace, and eventually an atmosphere of understanding and good will shall return.

As we prepare for whatever form people choose to express gratitude, I want to express my appreciation for the First Nations people, like the Osage, who are still here-despite all attempts to shove them aside, as is depicted in “Killers of the Flower Moon”. Manipulators and thieves are ever with us, and will ever claw their way to the top, unless we learn to discern-and make it an integral part of who we are, as individuals and as communities.

Actual Vacation, Day One

4

November 20, 2023, Grapevine- As I started to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich, around Noon, son intervened. It means a lot to him to be a good host, so he took over the making of lunch. My true vacation, time with no service or work responsibility, has begun.

Yes, most often, when I leave Home Base, there are elements of the greater good involved. This time, I will just focus on being a good family member, with no Zoom calls or other activities-emergencies aside. Yet, being a good family member is the greatest good, as I think about it.

Up early this morning-2 a.m. early, I found smooth sailing and was off to the shuttle by 3:05. The ride to Phoenix was not crowded, and after a pleasant conversation with one of the other passengers, we arrived at 5:10. From there, TSA was a breeze and our flight to Dallas-Fort Worth arrived ten minutes early. Aram was at the airport shortly thereafter. I accompanied him to an appointment, then got to enjoy the grilled cheese lunch and sprawl out for a snooze.

This evening, after a light dinner, the three of us took in Grapevine’s charming Christmas Festival-with plenty of lights and a modest fireworks display. There was even Fair-type street food, so we each tried a deep-fried Oreo. Not as bad as I thought it might be, and we walked enough to keep the pounds from sticking.

Here are some scenes from the Festival.

Holiday Lights, at Grapevine Recreation Center
Sculptures in the Peace Circle, Grapevine Main Street
Sam Houston, offering peace to First Nations of Texas.
View of the Peace Circle sculptures
All around the Clock Tower (Above and below)
Some fireworks scenes (Above and below)
The Glass Reindeer
More lights in Grapevine’s Main Square (Above and below)

As in Manila’s Rizal Park, and back in Prescott-at Courthouse Square, there is nothing like bright lights to raise spirits and the people’s mood. Sometimes, just a little encouragement is all the incentive people need to make a commitment to the betterment of their lives.

Beeswax Pull and The Flower Moon

2

November 19, 2023- The beeswax cone did what it was supposed to do, gently cleanse my ears, with a pulling effect. It pretty much confirmed today’s gentler tone-compared to yesterday’s angry intensity. I had more small tasks to do-checking in on senior friends at Post 6 (most are well), attending a Baha’i study session (respectful, but thorough, examination of a letter from the Universal House of Justice), picking up the Farmers Market order that I missed yesterday, this beeswax cleanse and a visit to a Holiday Market in Prescott Valley, to get gifts for Aram and Yunhee.

Now it’s almost time to go view “Killers of the Flower Moon”-an acclaimed depiction of modern day exploitation of resources on First Nations lands. I will have some comments on the film, in the next post. I will say, ahead of time, that the part of the human being that often is killed first is the spirit. Once that happens, it takes a generation or two to recover, if justice is truly exercised.

That brings me to this morning. Last night, I went to bed, questioning my place in this community. In the light of day, though, and after talking with a few friends, my message to those who don’t like my being here- some of whom may read this- is:

I have a place here. It is not defined by you, and no matter who you may try to turn against me, it will not end well. There are many who know my heart, which you do not. They know I have the best interests of children, teens and the disadvantaged always front and center. They know it has been this way, for 42 years. They know I am committed, I will respect your gentle friends, whom I met last night, and show them honour. I will do the same for you, even if you strike back in anger.

So, though you are popular, active in social justice causes and will be in the same spaces as I am, quite a bit- know that I am not going anywhere. We might as well get along; but if not, Prescott will remain my home-until I am needed elsewhere.

The Sandbox

4

November 18, 2023- So often, the most difficult person is who needs love the most.

When I was a child, my siblings and I had a fine sandbox, with plenty of quality, durable playthings. We shared it with everyone in the neighbourhood. No one was excluded. I knew what it felt like to be shoved to the sidelines, and left out. I was determined to not be that kind of person, in my own dealings with others.

Today,a small team of us went about a city that is 2 1/2 hours west of here, and installed smoke detectors in homes of those who requested them. Fifteen households were visited; fourteen of those who requested the implements were grateful. One household was not-for reasons that are best left unsaid. Chances are, the smoke detectors will end up save the life of our detractor. The most difficult person needs love the most.

This evening, I pulled myself together and went to the concert of a dear friend, at a favourite venue. Someone I know, and fairly trust, as an acquaintance, came in and asked to sit at my table. I was glad to see this person, who is fairly popular and influential in town. After a time, I started to feel discomfort, almost as if I didn’t belong in the situation. I focused on my friends’ music and danced about a bit. The most difficult person needs love the most-but in this case, I am not at all certain that my support and caring would be either welcome or accepted. By the end of the evening, and for the first time since I moved to Prescott, in fact, I feel like my status in the community is very much in jeopardy-and I will have to step back for a while. Red Cross, the Farmers Market (to some extent) and Slow Food are safe spaces-but the places I have visited and treasured, like the venue where my friends performed tonight, don’t feel so safe right now.

The most difficult people need love the most, but they can do a lot of damage along the way-especially when they wield a lot of influence. I can only hang on, the best I can.

Patience Rising

2

November 16, 2023- The soloist momentarily forgot a line, or a note, and uttered “Oops, I forgot…”, then got his memory jog and continued his tune-all within a span of three seconds. He ended his turn on stage by noting the atmosphere of patience in the room.

Since we were at a Community Celebration of Thanks, the attitude of gratitude was a given, and the gentleman, a Sufi, as it were, would have been unlikely to have incurred anyone’s annoyance. There was applause after each performance-even after each short reading of Scripture. The accent was totally on the positive.

I am noticing, in the face of much ballyhooed implosions of public manners, particularly in Washington, D.C. and among the frustrated few, that the average Joe and Jane are showing more patience with one another. I see this around town, and I saw it in southern California, when I was en route back here from a visit to the Philippines. Road rage is still a thing, but it seems less common, of late. The angry person, or persons, who set fire to the underpinnings of the freeways in downtown Los Angeles are outliers, even more than would usually be the case.

Perhaps it is a natural reaction to the horrors we are witnessing, in other parts of the world. It may well be that we are growing up, as a species, slowly but surely, and that peace in our time will become more than a buzz phrase. It starts with talking with those who have differences of opinion, and focusing on our common humanity. The leaders of the United States and China did so, yesterday. The leaders of the two parties in the House of Representatives did so, yesterday, as well-and they will do so again-of necessity. Sooner or later, the leaders of Israel and Palestine, Ukraine and Russia, the warring factions in Sudan, Yemen and perhaps a dozen or so less intense conflicts, will have to sit face to face-and patience will win out, of necessity.

Nuclear obliteration, Mr. Putin’s view of it aside, is not an option.

Death of A Culture?

4

November 15, 2023- The scene, in a National Geographic Magazine article on orcas of the Southern Ocean, showed three or four females in an orca family systematically using wave action to upend a small ice floe, on which their prey, a Weddell seal, was sheltering. The maneuver was ultimately successful and the dolphins took their food home.

It was then pointed out, that the decline in sea ice has led the seals to find a new home, inland on a rocky landscape. Orcas, and other cetaceans, have no such recourse. Thus, the author concluded, we may be witnessing the death of a culture.

Cetaceans may, over eons, return to the land-dwelling practices of their very distant ancestors. Living things are almost always able to adapt to the Earth’s changes, if given plenty of time. Aspects of culture, though, will rise and fall, with the onset of those changes.

I pondered what this has meant, in a human context, just in my own lifetime. When I was four, a child could not get on a phone and call a beloved relative, without two or three unfamiliar female voices telling him to get off the phone. I used to wonder, even back then, how nice it would be it we could speak to family and friends on a phone that could be used in a car-or while walking along a sidewalk.

In moments of self-pity, in my early adolescence, I wondered what it would be like to live in a society where it was severely frowned-upon, or even illegal, to ridicule others. I quickly concluded that the scenario would be untenable- since nobody’s perfect, and not being held to account for things would end in the person falling victim to own ego.

The narrowness of my contacts, growing up in a community where people of colour lived on the periphery of town, or came to work from the two larger cities to our northeast and southwest, respectively, allowed subliminal and stereotypical views of other ethnicities to settle in my psyche. Still, I wondered from an early age as to how long it would take for people of colour to be able to live freely, wherever they wanted-with no harassment from those around them. I guess we’re still working on that one-though we’ve certainly come a long way. The house, where my mother and her siblings were raised, has been owned for several years by an African-American attorney, of distinguished bearing and considerable accomplishment. I think my maternal grandfather, who prided himself on his work, would have approved.

Culture, our collective, shared set of beliefs, practices and implements, may always change. To say it is subject to death, though, is rather presumptuous.