April 8, 2025- I had figured on twelve people attending the Feast of Jalal, this afternoon. Thirteen were present. My Filipino Baha’i friends made ten more spiritual siblings, as we enjoyed a primarily musical devotional. The consultation afterward was equally rich, and we all had a joyful social period afterward.
Later this evening, my hiking buddy joined the three of us for dinner at the superb WZ Asian Buffet. Many such restaurants are touch and go, health-wise, but this one is well-managed and keeps both hygiene and variety of fare in mind. We each had a great meal and another bond was established between my Arizona and Philippines families.
Here are some scenes from other points in the day. (Photos from the Baha’i gathering and the dinner were taken by others, so I will post them as they are shared with me.)
At Air Bnb in PrescottAt Courthouse Square, Prescott (above and below)At a seriously diminished Lynx Lake
I’m always looking for ways to connect people with one another, across both real and imagined divides.
December 13, 2024- It was Acker Night, tonight, in downtown Prescott. This is an annual fund drive for Music Education, supporting programs in everything from dance to choral singing and a jazz quartet. The second Friday in December is thus an especially heartwarming night, the chill air aside.
I walked around downtown, stopping first at American Legion Post 6, to listen to a few songs by a couple of Post members and starting my “rounds” of contributions to the fund. After being admonished that “downtown is a long way”(It is a half mile from the Post to Courthouse Square), I walked down the hill. As long as I still can manage, walking is a joy. I feel for those who no longer can, though.
In a small alcove, at Lifeways Book Store, a bilingual singer offered several tunes with a Southwest flavour. In his rendition of Ray Charles’ “Seven Spanish Angels”, he sang both the English and Spanish lyrics. The singer told of his having studied the songs in his repertoire, and having “corrected” Mr. Charles’s Spanish translation-to make it flow better. Since he lived and worked for a time in Veracruz, I figured he knew what he was doing.
I walked the south side of the Square for a bit, listening to a choral group doing Christmas carols, then walking around to the north side, where a dance ensemble was doing a “Rockette-style line dance, to Kay Starr’s “The Man With The Bag”. A couple of beginner dance groups followed with “Silent Night” and “White Christmas”.
Finally, it was off to Raven Cafe and a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, which soothed whatever remnants I had of Wednesday night’s stomach flu. The featured artist for the evening, Kendra Vonderheide, gave a solid hour of mostly original tunes, saying that these were her way of releasing pent-up energy, after a three-hour drive from her hometown of Bisbee. Kendra complimented those who wore Santa hats and reindeer antlers. Arizona’s “Christmas City” would offer no less. It was another fabulous step forward for music education in our area.
Here is Ray Charles, with Willie Nelson, performing “Seven Spanish Angels”.
November 19, 2024- It did not really surprise me, when a driver, headed south, blew through the red light. It did not surprise me, either, later this afternoon, when a self-absorbed young man pushed open the door to the gym and let it fly back. We who were behind him, saw it coming and just hung back a bit.
These were the gadflies, because we don’t customarily act in those manners towards our neighbours, around here. I rather doubt that most people, anywhere, behave in such a fashion, but here we are.
This is a town, though, where cowboys and hippies long ago made peace with each other. Arch-conservatives and progressives gather each Tuesday at noon, on opposite corners of Gurley and Cortez, each posting their respective messages. When it’s all over, the two groups mix together and socialize. A while back, when Red for Ed was a popular phrase used by liberal teachers, a rally was being held at Courthouse Square. A disgruntled reactionary, a lawyer of some repute, decided it’d be worth his while to drive by and yell cuss words at the mothers with children who were standing on the sidewalk. It was not the liberals who taught him right from wrong, but some supporters of then-President Trump who pulled him over. “We don’t do that here!” (He has not been visible at public events since that day.)
This is a town where support for clean air and water, for unadulterated, certified organic food, for natural supplements, is well-nigh universal. There are no questions asked of people who sport t-shirts or bumper stickers with provocative messages, because they don’t challenge those who promote the opposite messages. Live and let live, by and large, is what we do here.
This is, up to now, a town where unhoused people can get healthy meals and are less likely, for the time being, to be forced to sleep outside for lack of shelter. There are some who take issue with that, but for now, harassing the homeless is not something we do here.
This is, up to now, a town where the Master Plan specifically eschews discrimination based on race, national origin, gender, faith, political stance or sexual orientation. One city councilperson would like to see that changed, as that’s not how it is where she’s from. She is hearing, though, that discrimination is not something we do here.
December 25, 2023- The parking lots were mostly empty; the stores mostly closed and the churches were at least half full, as one of the quietest days of the year played out.
Much of the world took a breather today, in observance of Christmas-celebrating the birth of Jesus the Christ. Although, some archaeologists and historians point to March or April, as a more likely time for the actual event. the die had long been cast, for the cusp of Solstice, by the time the experts had formulated their alternative theory. So, it remains that December 25, or January 7, by the Julian Calendar used by Eastern Orthodox reckoning, is the day on which Christ is acknowledged as having come into the world.
A friend mentioned that there were long lines, to enter restaurants, in her home area. There was a long line at the Solid Rock Food Pantry, where I finished my day by wiping pots, pans and trays-after they’d been washed. There was no line at Hiking Buddy’s house, where six of us dined on roast pork loin, scalloped potatoes, and tender asparagus. The lights at Courthouse Square have no lines walking around to see their affirmation of civic life. There was a line, for selfies, in front of the gazebo, but I am past that stage.
The gatherings of families and friends, across the globe, are taking a breather of their own, now-before it starts up, though to a lesser degree , as the transition of calendar years is celebrated, next weekend. Each successive year has similarities to those before, and immediately after, its play-out. There is often the sentiment-“I am so over_______. ________can’t come fast enough.” The same sentiment is then repeated, as the next year, in turn, winds down.
We are, however, making progress-individually, communally and as a species. The guidance that comes from the Divine expects no less of us. Yes, there are fall backs, and reversals, but just like a financial decline, these are followed by a resurgence, and steps forward-often bringing forth cultural and technological advances that have not been anticipated. People are, by and large, more resistant to War Culture and Patriarchy. More force has to be applied to support those antiquated notions. The rollbacks, even when temporarily successful, cannot themselves be sustained over time.
Each succeeding Divine Messenger brings renewed respect and understanding of the Predecessor’s Teachings. Each also brings the exhortation to advance in our understanding of some practices-giving up some of them and taking on others. Thus, Christ told His followers that divorce was, for the most part, no longer permitted and that eating shellfish and pork were no longer taboo. Baha’u’llah has, in turn, called for eschewing those social practices that relegate women to second class status or that encourage a social hierarchy, based on race, class or age. The parochial structure, so necessary in a world rising out of famine and plague, is being superseded by a structure that calls for character and responsibility, as determinants of social rank, to the extent this is even necessary.
Each time a new Message comes from the Divine, it is worth honouring the Light that brought the Message. Today, people of all faiths honoured Christ’s Light.
April 22, 2023- Earth Day called me to get up on a workday schedule, so by 5:30, I was groomed and dressed. There were four stops and a Zoom call waiting, so after reading the newspaper and saying a few prayers, it was off to Courthouse Square. There was not a whole lot to do at Stop # 1, an environmental group’s booth, between 8:15, when I finally found the booth, and 8:50, when it was time to race back for the Zoom call.
It seemed imperative that I join the call, since I had been absent for two weeks, due to my Red Cross deployment. The moderator of the call has had a hard time with my absence-service to the wider community is apparently not his thing, if it conflicts with his Zoom work. As it happened, he was absent today, but his trusted assistant was glad I was on the call-and has no issue with someone being away due to working with the Red Cross.
After the call ended, I stopped in, briefly, at an American Legion Auxiliary rummage sale-picking up an extra pair of sunglasses(to replace the pair that was lost during my sheltering activity) and a cake to bring to my substituting assignment on Monday. Then, it was off to Farmers’ Market, getting a week’s supply of microgreens and catching up with friend Melissa.
Job #3 was back at the Firewise section of Courthouse Square’s Earth Day, and I got to the Red Cross booth four minutes late, which led to a mild chastisement from the woman tending the booth and groans from the man who had been there since 7 a.m. Water off this duck’s back! I give a lot of myself and no longer fret about people who are overly sensitive at slight lapses of punctuality.
After an hour, in which I greeted seven visitors and explained a bit about our mission, it was back to Farmers’ Market-this time to help a group of college students break down the tents, and put away the folding tables and chairs. With an increased efficiency, on the part of the new team lead, we were finished in less than an hour.
Job #5 was back at the Red Cross booth. This time, I was early, and the tent was folded up and put away a bit after 2 p.m.
There were big crowds at both Courthouse Square and Farmers’ Market, as people are finally comfortable with being at our community’s traditional events. Chalk-It-Up is back, after a three-year hiatus! More on that delightful artistic festival, in tomorrow’s post.
It was a fine day, and not as strenuous as it might have been, had there not been full teams at each location. Topping the day were two relaxing musical events: The Bourbon Knights performed ’60s Golden Oldies and some original tunes, at Rafter Eleven, while friend Stephy Leigh, accompanied by Jonah Howard, of Cross-Eyed Possum, performed two sets of her original music, with a few covers thrown in, at Raven Cafe.
Being back at Home Base has its rewards, great music being chief among them.
January 22, 2023- It was well said, last Monday, “all means all”. Any decision made, with regard to the life of an unborn child, will hopefully place the utmost value on that child’s quality of life-as well as that of the mother. The decision, one of the heaviest that any human being is asked to make, must be made by the mother-not by politicians. I’ve made that point several times, and will let it stand.
I carried a sign around Courthouse Plaza, this afternoon, a tolerated but not entirely welcome act, in the midst of a highly politicized march that was billed as a Women’s March. The message, well-crafted by someone else, stated simply: “We march on, for equality, fairness and justice for all.” All means all-and the implication, that this applies even to those who do not subscribe to a given political stance, is nettlesome to a few. I see that this is greatly evident among those who are of the opinion that an authoritarian regime is the best way to solve all the problems besetting a given nation-all the while ignoring the track record of totalitarians up to now. Invariably, the elite of both Right and Left enrich themselves at the expense of the vast majority of their fellow citizens.
In the end, no one who might have been opposed to the march bothered the participants, and only one or two of those gathered bothered with me-one of them helping to carry the sign for a while, before walking off in a huff, from some unknown slight. The kids, and their mothers, remain more important to me than any political operative-of any stripe. It was gratifying to see a dozen or so young women scattered among the marchers, taking charge of their own dignity, making it clear to the others that this is their struggle now and will be carried out on their terms. Later in the afternoon, I stopped in at a restaurant across from the courthouse and was greeted by a young woman who was grateful for those who spoke up on behalf of her generation’s rights.
The future belongs to those who do not slam the door on people with whom they might not agree or on those whom they regard as “irrelevant” to the process. The future lies beyond emotional fits, self-aggrandizement or making veiled threats against others. I may be of an older generation, but I stand with those who could be my children, or grandchildren. Hopefully, as those discomfited by my presence see that I am not going away, they will also place more value on working with the young, rather than carrying on ideological battles of times past.
December 3, 2022- Hiking Buddy found me, as I was texting her, asking where she was. There was a large table of casseroles and snacks, from which I was welcome to nibble, while we waited for the Christmas Parade to start. It was good to meet several of her other friends, who are the organizers of this parade day “tailgate picnic”.
The parade itself was 1 1/2 hours in length, and with the chill afternoon wind, I was glad to no longer be standing around outside-even with one of my best friends. Nonetheless, this mini-gathering, if it continues, will be a fine Season Launch day tradition. I can even bring a crock pot full of Christmas run-up staples from my adolescence-cocktail franks or mini-meatballs.
Two hours later, the annual Tree Lighting found Courthouse Square and the surrounding area wall-to-wall, with the anticipatory crowd. The Christmas story was narrated, as it has been for thirty years, by our area’s State Senator. As he spoke the final words of the Nativity, the switch was flipped, the lights came on and fireworks were set off.
Parades and fireworks happen with regularity here in Prescott, but not (as yet) so much so as to lose the dignity and honour befitting the occasions. More important to me is that I am finding, once again, the joy of being part of groups, in a regular, meaningful way. COVID, which I have personally not contracted, has wrought havoc on group activities. When it is confused with influenza, or a severe cold, as happens more often of late, than is sometimes supposed, the fear factor keeps us apart ad infinitum.
The last gathering of the day was a concert at Raven Cafe,by an area Bluegrass band, opened by twin brothers who have added luster to the Prescott music scene for nearly ten years. They are barely twenty, but show the spirit and talent that can put a town on the map of musicality. I took a seat at a table for four, as the high tops were all in use. As I had hoped, two people, one of whom I knew from a few substituting assignments, asked to sit at the table and were followed by two more-easily re-working the spot into a table for five. The surrounding tables were likewise filled to capacity, and a few intrepid souls were up and dancing. Stephy Leigh and Lullaby League, the main band, preceded-and accompanied a bit, by Cross-Eyed Possum, were the perfect voices and instruments to end this day.
I am grateful to be moving into a renewed sense of enjoying life in group settings.
The New Parade Day hangoutGrinchmasLlamas and alpacas
For some, it was a chance to engage in a mass dance performance, based on the pop song “Baby Shark”. For another singer, it was a chance to regale an infant girl and her family with that same silly little tune.
For most, the evening was a chance to raise funds for arts education programs in our area. It was also a chance to get yet more photos of the magnificent light display on Courthouse Square. I have posted such photos, in years past and may yet get better shots this year.
For some, it meant crowding into Raven Cafe, The County Seat, or other such eateries, to relax as much as one can in a standing room only setting. There were also those who stood in a long line, outside a real estate office, where live music was also on offer. Then, there were those places, like two of our three downtown bookstores, which opted out of the festivities. Bill’s Pizza had no choice in the matter-Omicron is believed to have come calling, earlier this month and one of the best little pizzerias in Prescott is temporarily closed.
For me, it meant taking in a couple of performances, and leaving a tip in each fund-raising jar. It was quite a crowded event, but with so many places opting out of this year’s participation, the mood was a bit more subdued.
I think, though, that Acker Night will endure, and be a fine fundraising event for years to come.
September 6, 2021- Today being Labor Day in the U.S., many thoughts and expressions of thanks were offered to Frances Perkins, whose reaction to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, of March 25, 1911, metamorphized into the workplace safety movement of the 1930s-1970s. That it reached many of its goals is a grand social triumph, but it will never be something that can be set on a shelf. Human greed and self-centeredness can and will seep back into the consciousness of social policy, if we are not careful. Ms. Perkins was a genuine American hero and it would not be a bad thing at all, were her visage to grace one of the bills or coins of United States currency-perhaps even a bitcoin, if it becomes part of the American exchequer.
This afternoon, I visited my somewhat laid-up hiking buddy, who was injured last week and is now on extended hiatus from the trails. Our conversation turned the matter of another friend finding her tribe. HB remarked that my tribe was all over the place, which is true, essentially. I have detailed the names of friends, extended family and those I regard as angels. That some are on one end of the ideological spectrum and some on the other end, with most in between, does not trouble either my basically progressive stance on many matters or belief in the sanctity of all life.
Some tribal members are solely seen on Zoom, these days. Others hang out in downtown Prescott, or at Rafter Eleven, or at Synergy Cafe. Some live in western Arizona, northern Nevada, eastern Tennessee, northern Indiana or all along the three coasts. My heart family, as I’ve said repeatedly, is found in any number of places and I know I will find more of them, as time unfolds.
There will always be outliers, who can be accepted for who they are, as long as they don’t hurt others. One such was a young man, with a rather pleasant voice, who sang acapella on the edge of Courthouse Square, this afternoon. He sang “I love myself and I love you (to a few random passersby). I love my backscratcher (which he held up, for all to see).” Telling him he had earned A for effort, I placed a tip in his jar and walked further around the Square, taking in the Crafts Fair and the blessed mass of humanity who had gathered along the sidewalks. I don’t mind crowds. They are proof that our species is alive and thriving.
Many thanks to all who labour honestly, today and every day.
It took a while, and a few messages back and forth, before I connected with a friend who recently moved out here, from the East Coast. Once we did finally meet up, a delightful two hours of conversation and The Raven’s usual fine lunch ensued. Friend got an introduction to downtown Prescott, Courthouse Square and one of the town’s many antique shops.
It will be a process of acclimation to higher elevation for my friend, but it will be nice to have at least an occasional hiking buddy and someone to tag along for other outings, like Synergy Music Nights. The key to this is that my life is resuming a natural pace. Work will wind down, after this week, and after Spring Break, I will cut back to three days a week of availability. It is time to focus on the avocational.
There is much to be done for my Faith and so much of my stamina to be rebuilt, with more time on the trails and a greater devotion to overall exercise. I have come a long way, towards letting life unfold at a natural pace, not so much focused on making things happen according to my schedule. The organic unfoldment of this day taught me a lot, in that regard, and it felt refreshing.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 