Christmas Eve

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December 24, 2015, Saugus- This day has always been an “icing on the cake” sort.  In my younger days, the parties were full-on, booze-fueled.  Of the past thirty-four years, the booze has gone away, but the revelry, whether of the Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference sort, or spent hiking on one trail or another, has remained integral to my year.

I spent today walking along the east shore of Lake Quannapowit, in Wakefield, which I last visited in 2011.  The day was foggy, which only added to the sense of mystery in the area.  One of my paternal aunts lives at the south end of Wakefield’s downtown, so I stopped by her place for an hour.

This evening, my brother, Glenn, hosted a few of us family-members.  Two of his grandbabies added a an amazing level of energy to the festivities.  We also tucked into some glorious sirloin steaks, before the Santa Parade, actually a one fire truck ride-by.

Here are some more photos of the day.

 

Solstice

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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.

In Brief

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December 21, 2015, Saugus, MA- I had a smooth and uneventful pair of flights from Phoenix to Boston, on Friday.  Mom is in good spirits, despite a few minor health issues.  I will be at her house, in which I grew up, until the 28th.

It was a great pleasure to visit my sister’s home, on Saturday.  The place was packed to the rafters, with people of four generations, animals, gifts and FOOD!  So many wonderful souls are in our extended family.  The Georgia Boivins will be here, next weekend, so it’ll be a similar scene at Ma’s, on the 27th, though most likely sans enfants.

I went hiking at Breakheart Reservation, on the north side of town, yesterday, with my younger brother.  He’s legally-blind, and one of the most amazing people, ever.  We did a two-mile loop, sticking to the pavement, of course.  The weather here is rather mild, by Northeastern standards- no snow, and in the 50’s.

The rest of the week will see a series of gatherings, and when I have the chances, I will post more on here.  Mom doesn’t have Wifi, so it’ll depend on what’s going on with her.

Snow

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December 14, 2015, Prescott- 

Early to rise,

looked upon whitened skies.

A brief text,

said don’t hurry, rest!

A delayed drive to work,

didn’t see many jerks.

Children discombobulated,

by the start of school, belated.

Practice for tomorrow’s song,

interrupted by mindless chatter- all wrong!

In the end, melodic voices,

overcame the miscreant’s disruptive choices.

Back at home, I encountered a bug,

Removed from the wall, it sits in a jar,

Snug.

Islands Converge

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December 6, 2015, Marana-  There are two parts of this northern suburb of Tucson.  The “new” area is close to I-10.  The “old” section consists of older ranch-style homes and a few brick dwellings, with large lots, that are spaced apart.  The neighbours barely know one another.

A friend of mine moved into the area, about two years ago.  Yesterday, I joined her gathering of the neighbours and some of her co-workers.  About twenty-five people showed up, so a start was made at bringing the “islands” closer together.  The consensus was that a neighbourhood where people are anonymous to one another is a neighbourhood at risk.

Time was, when we knew everyone within a four-block radius of the house.  That was in the Boston area of the 1950’s and ’60’s.  When we lived in Phoenix, we knew those on either side of the house, and a few people across the street. Here in my current residence, I have a nodding acquaintance with all but one of the neighbours.  The man immediately above me is the sole first-name basis, friendly sort.

It is of course, a two-way street, and one that is rather bustling. My friend in Marana simply regards the matter as one that ought to be resolved for the overall safety and well-being of all the area residents.  We are a species that depend on interaction with others, lest we lose heart, from isolation and negative self-talk.

The afternoon, and evening, were filled with affirmations for most who attended, and heartfelt discussion afterwards brought a consensus that more such events should be planned.  Here are a few scenes of the day, including a few spirited young dancers

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The first several guests

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The repast

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The hostess

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The Road to 65, Mile 356: Positivity in the News

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November 19, 2015, Chino Valley- Day Four of my friend’s Positivity Week looks at good news from the mass media.  I find two such reports today.

One, in the Chino Valley Review, (http://cvrnews.com/main.asp?SectionID=1&SubSectionID=446&ArticleID=61041), details our school’s annual Science Fair.  Two of my current students won First Place ribbons, though in fairness, most of the preparatory work on this was done by my predecessor and the leg work, by the boys’ parents.  The ideas came from the students themselves, which is the main thing.

The second, reported on Phoenix-area television, concerns a nine-year-old boy and his emotional-support animal, a pot-bellied pig, which he had named Maggie.  The animal was the subject of an anonymous complaint, leading to the City of Chandler moving to force the family to get rid of  Maggie.    The family, their neighbours and animal-rights activists banded together and, citing the Americans with Disabilities Act, persuaded the city to reverse its decision.  The one down-street neighbour who raised the objection has also relented.

These past two weeks have had lots of bad news, but the brightness is also here.  The light is building, even as darkness rises in clouds.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 348: Veterans

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November 11, 2015, Phoenix- I spent a goodly part of the day here, in a dental hygienist’s chair, getting a sketchy, but hardy, tooth lasered and shored-up.  As it happened, I was there during the 11th Minute of the 11th Hour, on the 11th Day of the Eleventh Month.  This is Armistice Day, called Veterans Day in the U.S. and Canada.  I was maintaining an armistice with my tooth, and we seem to realize that we need each other.

Seriously, though, I am a veteran- of the Vietnam Conflict.  I went over there in March, 1971, because a high school friend, snarky, energetic and self-confident though he was, had died over there.  I went over there because one of the most honest men I’ve ever known got shot through the throat, and lived to regain his voice.  I went over there because the first twenty years of my life had passed, in the words of a fellow soldier who had known nothing but constant indignity most of his life, “without a single hard day”.

I went to Vietnam to find the truth.  I found a corrupt regime, paying lip service to the American ideals, for which we were fighting and dying.  I found people who lived far differently from the way I had been raised, nonetheless telling me of their hopes and dreams for the future, and realizing they were not much different from mine.  I found that the human race makes the world a neighbourhood.

Veterans come home from war.  Some are welcomed.  Some are shunned.  Some neither welcome nor shun themselves; they just drift.  I see all three types on the streets, of any given town.  In Prescott, where I now live, we will enjoy a Midwestern variation of Paprika Chicken, served over rice.  That is of Hungarian origin, but is listed as an “Ohio specialty”.  Any veteran who wants, may partake of this, at our American Legion Post.  Then again, there are seven or eight establishments offering free food of one sort or another, to Veterans, during the course of the day.

I’ve been lucky.  My PTSD was minimal.  Veterans who have more severe cases, need all our support and consideration.  These are my free-flowing thoughts on Veterans’ Day, 2015.

The Road to 65, Mile 316: Shots Fired

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October 9, 2015, Chino Valley- I woke today, to the horrible news that a student at my alma mater, Northern Arizona University, had killed a schoolmate and wounded three others.  This, at one of the most congenial and intimate of universities in the country.

I studied at NAU from 1979-81 (Master’s Program) and again, intermittently, from 1983-87, obtaining my school administrative certificate and credentials for teaching learners of English as a Second Language.  Any disagreements I had with other students, usually about them being noisy after 10 P.M., on a weeknight, were easily resolved, with compromises by both parties. (i.e. my wearing earplugs and their turning down the base and treble).

When I was eleven, I went through a firearms safety and marksmanship course, courtesy of the Boy Scouts and National Rifle Association.  NRA, at that time, was known and respected for making weapons safety its main concern.  I have not generally had firearms in my home, though there was one on hand in our house in Phoenix.  It never had to be used, and was sold when son and I moved out.

The one thing that was drilled into me, over and over, and which I imparted to Aram, is that a weapon- be it firearm, blade or what have you, is to be treated with full respect for what damage it can do.  A firearm is the easiest weapon to use, IF, and only if, proper protocol is being followed.  The Boy Scouts teach their members to NEVER POINT a weapon, toy or otherwise, at another human being.  Shooting in self-defense is seen by them as something to be done, sparingly, by adults.

We are too casual, as a nation, with regard to allowing the mentally ill to obtain weapons, period.  I once had to intervene and remove several steak knives from a place where they were accessible to emotionally-handicapped elementary students, and place those knives in a locked cabinet.  I lost an adult friend because of this, but I don’t care.

How much worse is it to let those under siege, in their own mind, have ready access to firearms?  The debate will go on, as long as we regard the Federal Government as an enemy.  In fact, it reflects who we are as a people- our strivings, our conflicts (both internal and interpersonal) and our priorities.

The bottom line, impacting both mental health and the very “need” to own weapons, is our twin tendency, as a society, for anonymity and insularity.  I see it in everything from being unwilling to share a table, in a public place, with strangers, to road rage to viewing those who simply have differing opinions, in an adversarial light.  I have been guilty of all three of these, though my anger on the road never compelled me to assault the other people.  I have also been on the receiving end of all three, though thankfully, never physically assaulted on the road.

Requiring background checks on prospective firearms owners, or would-be purchasers of long knives and swords, or explosives, or copious amounts of poisonous substances, is not going to be a cure-all for violent assault and murder.  It IS, however, a DETERRENT.  That which gives a person pause, which makes her/him think twice, is worth the inconvenience of delay in purchase.  It also makes it a lot easier to live under the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

The Road to 65, Mile 228: Transition

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July 14, 2015-   Watching from a distance,

I see a beloved friend squirming, quite askance.

She witnesses, in agony, the movement of one close to her

As the Light beckons, and draws ever closer.

Change is a constant, it’s said

Yet, such is shattering, when the change means

Dead.