The Road to Diamond, Day 358: New Assignment

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November 20, 2025- The farewells continued today-this time in Phoenix, with one last dental checkup by the people who have been caring for me and family since 2001. I had lunch with another friend, who I’ve known since 1992. The first gave me a new assignment: Up my dental care game, including making sure I change the head on the electric brush a bit more often. It goes without saying that I will also quickly find a provider once I move to Texas. The team in Phoenix has worked too hard on my behalf for any backsliding.

I have known LF, as a friend and mentor, so his message to always look past surface talk of friendship and support, weighing actions as well as words, will carry me into a new community. He may well be one of those who makes the journey out to visit us, and he will be ever welcome.

Back up to Prescott, after stopping at my late wife’s grave, there were two events left this evening. I stopped in at Post 6 and tended to an old favourite: The patty melt, basically a cheeseburger on toast, with special sauce (NOT Mc D’s). I enjoyed those years ago, at Friendly Ice Cream shops, a New England favourite in the ’60s and ’70s, that still has some franchises open. Of course, there was banter about current affairs, but we all respect one another’s views.

The last gathering of the night was Community Day of Thanks. This is the 13th such event, held since 2012, on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, at a different place of worship each year. The Coalition for Compassion and Justice is the host group for the event, which featured every major Faith Group in our area. Of course, Baha’i participants offered a reading, followed by a song. Here is Carl Brehmer, who led us in this song, offering homage to the angels that so many people find comforting.

It was truly a fine day, from start to finish. Now I have to keep working on the teeth and gums that God gave me.

The Road to Diamond, Day 212: Volunteer Shoots

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June 28, 2025- The young lady was hesitant at first, picking up a few signs and long traffic cones that were light of weight. I didn’t say anything, figuring she may have back problems or other issues. The fact that she was even there at the Market and was proactive was a boost in itself. Any help I get, especially in the heat, is more than welcome. After seeing this old man lift the tent weights and other items, she decided that she could lift them also. That warmed the heart of the market manager, who had recruited her, a few weeks ago. It is always a joy to see someone display more self-confidence.

When gardening, it is exciting to see plants that had not been intentionally sown spring up and often reveal a mix of species, a hybrid. Purists are bothered by this, but the hybrid has a purpose. It may be more nutritious; more disease-resistant and more suited to changing climate.

New arrivals in an enterprise, in a community, in a nation often bother purists. They have a purpose, however. In the activities in which I have been volunteering, for five years or more, others are showing up, to lend a hand. From the Farmers Market, the Red Cross and Bellemont Baha’i School, to Slow Food and the American Legion, there will be no loss of mission because new faces are taking on the challenge. I will be going on to another calling, towards the end of this year. It will take up the lion’s share of my time, and that is a blessed thing.

The same is true of those who are arising to take on leadership roles, at the community and national levels. Their ideas may not be those espoused by the established order or those ideas to which many have become accustomed, but they may be what are needed for changing times. Yes, there are constants-the virtues, like trustworthiness, honesty, integrity and industry-all based on love. Those are as likely to be found among the new arrivals as among the best of the long-time members of the community or citizens of the nation.

All deserve a hearing.

The Myth of Finality

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April 28, 2024, Gallup- As I was walking to breakfast, at Post 6, this morning, one of the dogs who customarily run up to their owners’ fence and barks his head off, was true to form. A raven began flying in circles, above the dog, and cawed loudly, mimicking the dog’s bark. Animals can hassle each other like that.

So, too, do we humans seem to think it is our due, to hassle one another. I give you the current version of “Forward, into the past!”-Right-wing students, mixing with peaceful protesters and yelling for a renewal of “The Final Solution”. There is no real concern about the Palestinians who have suffered, no desire to see justice for Gaza, just a re-hash of Nazi propaganda-blaming Jews in this country and around the world for the destruction that has come from two groups of extremists fighting one another. Palestinians, in Gaza, have asked that the hatred against ordinary Jews be stopped. It is, they note, not helping their search for justice.

I have relatives who are at least a quarter, or half, and in a few cases full-blooded Jewish. I have many more, both Arab and Jew, who I count as friends. None of them hate the others. Growing up, my parents counted both Arabs and Jews as friends. It is thus second nature.

In Creation, there is no permission given by the Divine, for one group of people to slaughter another. The deluded young man who called for the deaths of all Jews can quote Mein Kampf all he wants, but if he follows through, he deserves full punishment, under the law. I say the same applies to anyone calling for the deaths of all Arabs. Enough is enough! If someone, or a group, attacks a Jew, or an Arab, in my presence, I will stand for the intended victim-nonviolently, mind you, but I will stand in defense of the one being attacked.

Today is the anniversary of Baha’u’llah’s Declaration of His Mission, to unite mankind, both spiritually and materially. We Baha’is celebrated, worldwide. There are fellows in Faith who are of Jewish descent, as Penny was and there are fellows in Faith who are of Arab descent-in fact, there are Baha’is in virtually every ethnicity, across the planet. We stand for the oneness of mankind. There is no room for anyone to act on genocidal thoughts, of any kind. There is no such “final solution”.

In a few days, I will be at the Baha’i House of Worship, in Wilmette, Illinois, north of Chicago. I try to visit there, each time I head east, for family visits. The magnificent Temple helps me ground self spiritually. This time, I hope to see both Jewish and Arabic visitors, among the multitude that is there, on any given day.

The only finality should be love.

Full, Complex, Human

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November 30,2023- Ernest A. Love, a decorated Army pilot, who died in the line of duty, during the final months of World War I, is honoured in his hometown of Prescott with his name being given to our regional airport and to the local American Legion Post. He was further honoured tonight, on the occasion of his birthday-128, and counting. A squad of ROTC cadets from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University posted the colours, and the youngest of these, an 18-year-old woman, stood proudly, next to our oldest veteran Post member, who is nearly 88, and the youngest veteran Post member, a wet-behind-the-ears 48.

Each of these people has a compelling story, and each is a complex human being-just like everyone else. The difference is, each of them has done something with her/his life and has either a lifetime of giving back to the community, or is embarking on such a life. Not everyone else is so inclined, which is a shame, in a way. We all have gifts that can help bring light to the world, rather than the darkness that some see fit to cast into it.

I am truthful, in saying that I love so many in the world, even at different levels and displayed through different means. When that was not so apparent, it was largely because my self-love was lacking, and thus, I didn’t know how to communicate how I really felt. I have learned from several of those closest to me, how to grow my self-love, and therefore, how to more clearly honour the fullness and complexity of each person I meet. In turn, I can’t be all things to all people, and that may ruffle a few feathers.

May they learn to smooth those feathers and find a way to obtain what I can’t give them, whether it is a romantic relationship or taking a call at midnight. There are, conversely, things they cannot give to others. I am drawn to someone, far from here, and if she is drawn to me, then so much the better. If not, then I will honour her complexity, and full humanity, and carry on.

That, my friends, is how peace can happen, human to human-even when it’s hard to do.

Medleys of Hits

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February 12, 2023- The past two nights have been spent at Raven Cafe, enjoying two very different musical groups, who were also surrounded by two very different, though equally enthusiastic, groups of followers. Cross-Eyed Possum, a rock and blues trio, played Friday night, surrounded mostly by a close-knit group of family and friends. Their fare ranged from The Grateful Dead’s “Sugaree” to “Back Where I Began”, an original song that wistfully describes the pull of home, even as one makes plans to move forward in life. Basically, I felt the energy of people who are most comfortable when in their own family circle-though this energy was less pronounced than in the first few times I have seen Possum perform here.

Last night, a much more effusive, and welcoming, air, complete with a packed house, greeted me, as Galactogogues were back. I have described this family band in an earlier post. Meg, the matriarch, again led her children and in-laws on a musical journey, ranging from Jimmy Rogers’ “Kisses Sweeter Than Wine” to the somber bluegrass tune, “Pretty Polly”. Their original songs celebrate the natural world and underscore the challenges faced by women and girls, but not in a woeful manner. The huge audience actively participated in the festivities, tonight, with much more dancing and singing along than in last night’s group. There was just a more fanciful air, and less wariness of those outside the inner circle, if indeed the Bohrmann family even has such a thing.

I say this, not as a critique of my own reception, as I basically sit, listen and observe-taking the time to chat with a few friends who happen by my table. A more objective sense was derived by noting the response to each setting of another man, slightly older than me, who makes a point of introducing himself to several people in a group. His shy, but pleasant air usually leads to his sitting in the midst of the house and chatting up a few people around him. On Friday, he sat away from the crowd; on Saturday, he was in the thick of things. I personally felt a lot more relaxed with the Galactogogues crowd, as well.

Tonight, I took in the Super Bowl, with a small group of people, few of whom I know personally, at the American Legion Post. older We watched as the popular synthetic and R&B singer, Rihanna, made her first live musical appearance in five years, as part of the halftime show. It featured a medley of her most popular tunes, with her voice clear as ever. The dance routines were not my favourite style of dance, but judging from the television commentary, the show went over well with many people. The mostly older crowd here gave her a thumbs down, but that seems par for the course. People forget the way our parents’ generation disapproved of our tastes in music.

Some Gave All

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February 5, 2023- On February 3, 1943, four brave men stood, arm-in-arm, on the deck of an Army Troop Transport vessel, as it was sinking after having been hit by a German torpedo. They were military chaplains, who had given their own life jackets to four scared young men and seen to it that those men went onto a life raft. The four chaplains died, along with over 200 others, for whom there was no room on the rescue rafts. They died praying with those men.

I had the honour, for a second time, of reading the biography of one of the chaplains, as our American Legion Post held its Four Chaplains ceremony, this afternoon. All gave some; some gave all. This ceremony reduces grown, hardened men to tears-proof of what I mentioned in the last post. To respond to one of my critics, the fact that some women engage in dissolute behaviour has nothing to do with the presence of nurturing energy in men, nor is it proof of gender equality. The actions of the four chaplains, and of countless men who have engaged in similar acts of love for their fellows, are the definitive proof.

All gave some; some gave all. I can only hope that, if I am called to such an action, that I will find the strength to carry it forward. Some gave all.

Twists and Turns

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January 8, 2023- The usually spirited and upbeat friend of mine seemed a bit reserved and downcast, yesterday, and though such happens to everyone, now and then, I will keep a close watch over the next several Saturdays, to make sure that it’s not something more serious. Likewise, another dear friend, facing the aftermath of a loss and an ongoing family health issue, may well need my help very soon. For these and other commitments, my meanderings will be limited, over the next few weeks.

Today was largely a day for honouring a woman who had given an enormous amount of herself to the veterans of our area, since the 1990s. Coleen “Corky” Hintz had been an irrepressibly joyful presence at our American Legion Post, since 1994, and was one of the first to welcome me there, in the Fall of 2011. She spearheaded and hosted so many activities, even after overcoming a serious health challenge, nearly eight years ago, that her passing leaves a crater-not easily filled. It was beyond fitting, that the hall was packed. The packets of Forget-Me-Not seeds that were offered to each of us are aptly named.

Northern California, and by extension SoCal and northern Nevada, remain much on my mind. There are dear friends scattered around the region, as well as the fact that, in general, the flood danger in the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta could easily be of Biblical proportions. Anything I do for the Red Cross out there is probably a month away, but the twists and turns of life can shred plans into so much confetti.

In sum, I’m glad to have not signed up for a dull life.

Things I’ve Learned

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December 31, 2022– As another Gregorian calendar year heads to the history books and memory n, what is most important, for an individual, are the lessons brought forward over the twelve months now past.

So, here are twelve things I’ve learned, some cogent, others banal-but all useful.

January- The border between the United States and Mexico is neither as chaotic as politicians away the border claim it is nor as smoothly functioning as it might be. I saw many content, focused people at the station in Douglas, AZ and no evidence of hordes of people sneaking through, at Coronado National Monument, a rural station, south of Sierra Vista.

February- Human beings, regardless of how they come to identify themselves, deserve the respect of those around them-and a keen listening ear. Losing someone who has not been completely understood by some of those around her was both unsettling and cautionary. Rest in Peace, Salem Hand.

March- Most of Man’s inhumanity to Man stems from insecurity. Andersonville showed the historical proof of that, both through its physical remnants and through the exhibits on Prisoners-of-War, both within this country and around the world. A more benign case occurred, in Miami Beach, stemming from a middle-aged man, having designs upon much younger women and threatening violence when I cautioned them about one aspect of his proposal.

April- There is no foolproof means of transport. Taking a train, when the route is secure, is a marvelous way to both see the countryside and to make good friends. The system is not without flaws, though, and a fire at a remote bridge resulted in my taking a Greyhound bus, between San Antonio and Tucson.

May- It is never too late in life for people to connect. An odd proposition was made to me, by someone much younger-and was quickly, if politely, deferred. On the other hand, two people who had been alone for several years, found each other and had a lovely garden wedding, making for several years of a solid bond.

June- There are still places where even brief inattention to surroundings can lead to discomfort, even momentarily. I found one briefly “wet” situation, checking out the depth of a bog. Fortunately, it was an “oops” moment, and caused no difficulty to me or anyone else.

July- You can go home again, but family is often going to be swamped with schedules, plans made at the last minute by spouses and friends, or just the crush of dealing with one of the greatest of American holidays.

August- No matter how well a car is maintained, the aftermath of a chain-reaction accident can lead to a total loss being declared, even 1.5 months after it occurs. So it was, for the vehicle that took me across seemingly ridiculous distances, with nary a squeak. Another person’s health issues led to Saturn Vue’s demise.

September- Not all Baha’i school events need include a heavy dose of scholarly presentations. Just being with children and youth, in crafting, dancing and fellowship, is as much a tonic for the soul as any engagement with intellectuals.

October- New friends, made in the wake of a bureaucratic flub, and clear across the continent, to boot, are as fine a result of a mistake as I can imagine. Three Bears Inn will be a place where I could definitely stay for several days, especially en route to the great mountain parks of the northern Rockies. It is all the sweeter when followed by a visit with dearly beloved friends, themselves so much like family.

November- Speaking of family, it is never necessary for my biological family to expend energy on my entertainment. They do so anyway, but just reveling in their presence and celebrating their achievements, is the finest way to spend any time-especially a holiday.

December- As an Old Guard increasingly passes from the scene, among my cohort of veterans, younger people are arising, in service to those who served our nation. I am also re-learning the rewards of patience, with those around me, as we all face increasing uncertainty. They need me, as much as I need them. I also need to be patient with myself.

Delivering, not Sniveling

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November 19, 2022- I walked carefully into the American Legion Post general meeting, about 15 minutes before it actually started. Wearing my face mask, as vestiges of my cold could put others at risk, I took my usual seat, and was surprised, though hardly discomfited, to find every other seat at the normally half-empty table well-occupied. The full hall meant that there would be a fairly intense discussion of various items, and there was. My voice being still scratchy, I spared the gathering of my opinions, agreeing with much of what others said, anyway. At the end, all were treated to a rich and flavourful home-baked enchilada pie and salad items.

Though I missed Farmers Market and Zeke’s, this week, also due to wanting to heal as completely as possible, before Tuesday’s flight and out of consideration for those in fairly crowded situations, the day was busier than I had initially planned. The ton of laundry, including the bed linens, finally was properly washed and dried. That took close to three hours. A hokey version of “Van Helsing’ palye din the background, with the vampire slayer taking on a Man-Fish (or a man in silly fish mask, with a Central Casting monster voice), and freeing the young adult daughter of a distraught couple, from Fishy Boy’s grasp (all this, despite VH’s having been skewered, at least three times, by Mr. Fish, or one of his minions).

In the early evening, I returned to Rafter Eleven, for the first time in about five weeks, to find that Dawn & crew have added lunch and dinner items to their Bill of Fare. It was a great delight to my palate, to have Chicken Pot Pie for an actual solid dinner. This brings Rafter into the “Dinner and A Show” level, and made listening to the jazz trio that much more enjoyable. I will be over there more regularly, once back from Dallas.

The First Snow

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November 3, 2022- It mostly danced in the air, before fluttering to its melting place, on the still warm dirt and asphalt. A crew is working diligently, to put in a sidewalk, along the south side of Goodwin Street, between the American Legion Post and Prescott Public Library. Snow was just a minor distraction, for them and for those of us who were going about minor business. I chose a rather salty, but bracing, bowl of chili from Olde World Bakery, for lunch. It was hot, though not spicy-and that was okay. It was a good counter to the unseasonable cold outside.

I awoke this morning to a wintry feeling inside myself, tapping into the strange energy that has been afoot since last week’s attack on the Speaker of the House’s husband. Violence should never be the butt of jokes, but then, neither should a disability, a debilitating disease or even a person’s physical attributes. Such humour only delineates the teller’s, and audience’s, lack of maturity. A while later, after getting myself together, doing devotions and checking the news, I got an e-mail asking that I serve as a Poll Chaplain, in the city of El Mirage, west of Phoenix, on Tuesday afternoon and evening.

Tuesday, November 8, is also the day of a full moon and of a total lunar eclipse. Cosmic guides say that this year’s eclipses have the energy of those which took place in 2004, and thus unresolved matters from that year may arise again this year, for resolution by way of the growth one has undergone since that time. 2004 was part of the time when I was starting to see Penny decline, and starting to deal with a few personal demons. Those have been defeated and expunged, over the past eight years. I will, though, be more cognizant of any residue that needs to be removed and let flow out. The same will be true of each year going forward: Eclipses may bring out old issues from eighteen years prior, and any spiritual learning I have acquired in the interim may be put to use, in dispersing the old energy.

Tonight, the snow has ended, and more seasonal weather lies ahead-with perhaps rain on Election Day. I’ve already voted, but will be there for those, in El Mirage, who are experiencing anxiety or distress.