High Honours

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December 6, 2025- I was blessed with an extra helper today, at the Farmers Market breakdown: A National Honor Society member, who proved to be a self-starter and did about half the workload, without missing a beat. This is a one-off, but I told management that I think it would be a good idea to reach out to the high school, for assistance from Future Farmers of America and Junior Achievement, both of whom have chapters there.

I only have one weekend left in Prescott, after this one, so it is of concern to me that the groups I have been helping are covered, going forward. There is a lot of youthful energy in this town, and in this area. I have watched the children of several friends here, grow from infancy to pre-teenhood. Others, who were students of mine when I first came here, in 2000, are now among the leadership in the community, and the Classes of 2011, onward have proven equally talent-laden.

I was asked tonight, at another gathering, how I felt the youth were doing, relative to our generation. There are lots of forces that are exerting a downward pressure on the rising generations; but that has always been the case. Advances in technology make these seem worse, especially to older folks who might not be well-versed in said advances. Human nature, though, is still the same. Young people will take some of the changes into their cultural framework, and resist or roll back others. I have spoken with a cross section of youth, in recent weeks. There are both conservatives and liberals in Generation Z and Generation Alpha, as there have been throughout the course of human history. Both groups have a concern for individuals maintaining health and adhering to a moral framework. With individual responsibility increasing, there is also more of a tolerance among the younger generations for engaging with those whose viewpoints are different.

This trend, to me, is of great importance. High honours redound to the person who is willing to look beyond own perspective. No one has a corner on the truth.

Totally Covered

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April 8, 2024- The Navajo practice a reverence for the solar eclipse. Dineh people stay indoors, as much as possible, cover their windows, fast on the day of the eclipse, and neither work nor play, but pray in the traditional way, with corn pollen. On Dineh lands, schools, businesses and mines are closed.

Even in more cosmopolitan communities, Dineh parents ask their children’s teachers to see that the children do not look at the eclipsed orb, even with “eclipse viewing glasses. So, today, part of my duty was to remind the three or four First Nations students that their parents wanted them in school, while also avoiding even inadvertent contact with the sun, while it was behind the moon. I went further, and minimized even the “well-prepared” children’s observance of the phenomenon. No one had to be sent home for adverse optical reaction to the eclipse, but some became physically ill, from anxiety about the total eclipse, were sent to the Nurse and eventually calmed down.

This is a generation that already has keen knowledge-of astronomical events, of space science and of the old Classical myths. Video gaming has provided a fair amount of information about myths and legends-and about physics. The Alphas are taking the great cosmic events pretty much in stride; they seem to be taking quite a bit in stride, in fact. Given that their formative years haven’t seen much, in the way of peace, I venture that this sanguinity is the Universe’s way of making sure they are up to the challenges that will no doubt face them, when adulthood comes around.

I feel at home, talking with both Generation Z and Gen Alpha. I do not feel the anxiety that came with being a parent, during the Millennial ascendancy. My role is more avuncular, or of a grandparent, or just an older, wiser friend. So, my admonitions about the eclipse were quietly heeded, and I suspect a good many were prepped by their parents, or they prepped themselves, as to what the right approach to this rare occurrence (next up, in 2044) should be. They will be 30-1, by then, and I, if God wills, will be 93.

By mid-afternoon, winter had thrown in its two cents. Cold air and thick clouds ruled the end of the school day, as if to add Mother Nature’s assent to the admonitions of the First Nations people. Nothing really happens in a vacuum, or without cause.

Tonalea

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March 27, 2024- “You don’t need to leave a tip. We didn’t really DO anything.” The cashier thus made her appeal to the dignity of one and all, as I paid for a couple bags of freshly ground coffee. I thought how refreshingly decent this woman is, and how sentiments like hers give the lie to the notion that Gen Z is collectively self-centered and always has its generational hand out. (The Greatest Generation, once upon a time, expressed similar sentiments about us then-youthful Boomers, but I digress.)

One of the bags was going to the old friend I was en route to visit, and to his family. C lost his wife of 40 + years, a few months back, and so I was heading up to Tonalea, to offer condolences and emotional support. The community’s name in the Dineh (Navajo) language, means, essentially, Red Lake. There is, in years of heavy winter and spring precipitation, an actual lake, off U.S. Hwy/160, on the community’s north side. This year, I saw no lake.

It was a smooth ride from Prescott to Flagstaff, where I bought the coffee from Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery, owned by another old friend. Traffic in and around Northern Arizona University reminds me a bit of Manila-everyone is doing their own thing, and gridlock is not altogether a rarity. My upbringing helps me transcend that, as a motorist here and as a pedestrian in my second favourite big city (after San Diego). Looking out for others makes for a longer journey, but for better self-esteem, at day’s end.

Driving from Flagstaff to Tonalea was even smoother. Dineh and Hopi people are quite orderly and civil, in their driving habits, and the area is sparsely polulated, to boot. As the two Elephant’s Feet (grey sandstone rock formations) looked on, from across the highway, I turned on the graded dirt road that winds around, towards Black Mesa, and reached C’s homestead, five miles inward. There he stood, as I arrived, at about the same time as planned.

C reminisced about his wedded life and what had led to his wife’s passing. Her suffering, it seemed, was mercifully short. We then talked of the connection between those of us in the flesh and our departed loved ones. Years ago, as Penny and I lay together, she told me she had seen my Penobscot ancestors standing over me, as I slept. I was not surprised by that. The ties that departed souls have to this world are very, very strong. Everything that has happened to me, both the serendipitous events that have transpired and my protection from malevolent forces, over the past thirteen years, or even before, has been due to those who have gone before me, and who make up a bulwark of energy that lets me do the bidding of the Divine.

After a two-hour visit, and my reassuring him that all will be well, even with the swirling changes that seem to bother him so, it was time for C to get back to tending to his family, working on his fences, and keeping livestock from eating his trees. It was also time for me to head back to Prescott, with a “halfway stop” at My Pita Wrap, a small Mediterranean restaurant on Flagstaff’s main drag. Going back up to Dinehtah, with its otherworldly rocks, grounded people and mystical energy, is always a reset for my own personal energy.

Indigo People

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October 20, 2020-

In observing the children who have passed before me, yesterday and today, I note their problem-solving abilities, interactions with one another and with the adults who will help make or break their current school year.

This community runs the gamut, from upper middle class to barely scraping by. There is, though, more of a sense of agency, among the emerging generation of children (either late Gen Z, or born since 2010 [who some call Generation Alpha]. Perhaps because of the uncertainty of the past ten years, and the total upheaval of this year, children are more apt to take certain matters into their own hands. I see a great deal of the style of Indigo People, who instinctively know why they were born and what their mission is. They are of the sort who have, in essence, chosen their parents, and though there is little evidence to suggest that souls exist in some sort of Pre-Life, there does seem to be a life force that is actively directing people, at least from the moment of their conception-even more so, than in previous generations.

There is a semblance of the Indigo, in my own life. I look back on my first sixty- three years or so, and, while I recall always having a sense that I was to go in a certain direction, and accomplish specific things in my time on Earth, there were always uncertainties and baggage that needed to be unloaded. I think that 2014 was really the first year of my life that was lived in a truly unfettered manner. Even the few setbacks that I have faced since then have not been shattering or deflecting, as so much that transpired before then.

Maybe, the energy that is being infused into the world, in the past ten years, has a part in my own experience. It certainly seems to be affecting an increasing number of younger people. I feel that this is, primarily, for the betterment of the world. What I can do to encourage them, in a positive direction, is to be done in a far less prescriptive manner than seemed necessary, in times past. Maybe it’s more a matter of my having jettisoned my own immaturity; yet I feel that less authoritative behaviour is necessary, on my part.

The Fruits of Service

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October 7, 2020-

It was a very smooth day of travel, and getting back to Prescott in mid-afternoon was a bonus-allowing for pick up of held mail and a quick adjustment from my chiropractor, thus soothing any of the excesses of the past two weeks-in terms of carrying boxes and moving furniture.

Getting to know so many people on a day-to-day basis, over the past two months has been intensely fruitful, in some cases establishing adamantine heart bonds. It has sharpened my discernment, so that a few lingering stereotypes (i.e “Anyone asking for one favour wil eventually ask for cash up front”) have been cast aside.

I have seen the diligence of women on the edge-feeling despair, but not giving up. I have seen the strength of impromptu communities and how the Bayou Diaspora has re-organized itself-standing up to those whose criteria for assessing damage is based on acting far in advance of any judgement rendered- a disservice, in times of fluid and ever-changing situations. Mold needs to be seen as the public health threat it is, for example.

I have seen the ingenuity of Millennials and Gen-Z people, when it comes to adding zest to a potentially moribund program. Evening activities were conducted at least four nights, during my time in Dallas. It was most rejuvenating, to be able to be part of a lively “freeze dance” session, and to help kids who were doing a relay race.

There was, once again, very tight co-operation among the generations, on the part of both volunteers and clients. We would not have resolved a lost child case, without the assistance of two female clients. We may not have found resolution, for any number of unique client issues, had there not been active assistance from others in the Lake Charles evacuee populace.

So, both congregate (communal settings) and non-congregate (hotel-based settings) have been made to work, in this set of hurricane-based emergencies. I will have two weeks, minimum, to focus on other matters, but the trust and the closeness that I feel towards the communities with whom I worked, since August 23, have built both self-confidence and stronger sense of viewing individuals for their true worth.

“I’m Up Here”

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March 9, 2020-

The above statement is often made by a woman who is reacting, in a gently upbraiding manner, to having a man (or boy) focusing his attention on her torso.  I haven’t had that sort of correction being offered me, up to now, though it’s been a self-teaching process, over the years, to direct my attention to a person’s eyes, as we are engaged in conversation.  My autism had me looking down, anyway, so I recognize the imperative of eye contact- if for no other reason than to establish trust.  Besides, it takes three seconds to ascertain if someone is physically attractive; there’s no reason to stare.

It seems to be working, especially these past fifteen years, and definitely of late.  The ubiquity of  those who are either wearing tight clothing, or are “scantily clad” is something I’ve come to regard as mostly for the person’s comfort.  I find Millennial and Generation Z females both more modest in their interpersonal behaviour and more assertive with regard to their rights in the public sphere, than many of my generation were at the same age.  That may not be everyone else’s conclusion, but it’s what I see, in the course of my work, in my travels and at musical gatherings, such as the one I attended yesterday.  Then again, there is the fact that my relationship to the rising generations is one of mentoring, affirmation and overall support.

I like to engage people “up here”.

Sewing and Banana Bread

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February 20, 2020-  

There are many twos, in today’s figuring, so pairs are a natural topic of discussion.  Two of us work with a disabled child, in the afternoon.  Couples are frequently my dinner companions, at American Legion Post gatherings, such as the one earlier this evening.  Two main concerns take up discussion at Sustainability Club meetings, at Prescott College:  Establishing sustainability-oriented community events on campus and  clean-up of the surrounding area, especially the two nearby creekbeds.

A sewing night has been scheduled for March 1, giving me a chance to donate my spare sewing box, inherited from my mother-in-law, when she moved from Prescott, in 2011.  Sewing machines are actually familiar to Millennials and Generation Z-at least far more than many of a certain age seem to realize.  So, too, is baking-and as much among men as among women.  I’m not, inherently, much for banana bread, but a young man did it well, for tonight’s meeting.

Two meteors, as I mentioned in the last post, paid their respects to our area, over the last week.  I am wondering which pairs of people, things or events will  make us take notice, the rest of this month, and afterward.

The Z’s, the Alphas and Evolution

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April 16, 2019-

Yesterday was a bear, for many.  The damage to Notre Dame Cathedral (which I have only seen from outside) and to Al Aqsa Mosque (in which I had the honour of praying with the Imam, in 1982) was serious, but in both cases, not irreparable.

For me, it was a productive day- visiting the new Cuppers Coffee House location, attending a Baha’i study circle and getting in another exercise session were pluses.  A new online acquaintance asked me what I was doing for the day, and my response was “Tending to my personal affairs”, which at the time was weighing on me and not what I wanted to detail, to a relative stranger.  Turns out, the whole process took less than ten minutes, and all’s as well as it can be, for the time being.

I was brought further out of my shyness and awkwardness, at Cuppers, when several young people chose to sit down on either side of me.  Something refreshing about Millennials, and more so about Gen Z people, is their overall forthrightness.  Growing up always questioning my worth as a human being was a real pain.  The younger generations see no reason why anyone should do that, though I’m sure they have their moments of insecurity. Nonetheless, Gen Z’s mantra, “I got you”, obviating any lengthy explanation of one’s feelings or opinions, is actually a treasure.

I see intuition becoming a hard-wired thing.  Yesterday, there was a post about five teenagers who helped an elderly man get up from the sidewalk, where he’d fallen, walking home with him and cleaning his wounds.  Goodness prevails here, and is more common than its opposite.  The media has a label ready for those born since 2010:  Generation Alpha.  I haven’t had much contact with younger kids lately, but judging from the intuition levels and cooperative spirit of my grandnieces and nephews, and online friends’ children, I would say the label, as contrived as it sounds, is actually spot on.  They, with their immediate elders, will be the ones working to reverse a host of problems that foolishness and greed have bestowed on the human race.  All this makes New York’s recently enacted “nonmedical abortionist” law that much more ludicrous, besides being downright menacing.  The world needs its rising generations, even those who have some physical or mental flaws.

So, on we go, and I feel more confidence than at this time last week.

Boomer-Rang

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December 16, 2018, Prescott-

At this morning’s breakfast, a fellow Legionnaire voiced his occasional plaint about “the kids”:  “I’m glad that I’m at the age I am now.  I don’t think I want to see the world, after the younger generation has been in charge.”

Ho-hum!  This man is a member of “The Silent Generation”, those born between 1935-48.  Another member of that generation retorted that this is how it always has been- everyone dumps on the young.  I concur with that last assessment, remembering the reaction of both the aforementioned age group, and the GI Generation who preceded, to the antics of us Baby Boomers.

I admit it- I was too crazy about girls to care about much else, before joining the Army and learning  a goodly amount of discipline.  Even then, lovely  female faces and physiques had my near full attention, when I didn’t have a weapon in my hands, wasn’t in military formation or wasn’t focused on keeping accountable mail in a safe and secure channel of post.  My work history, though, has been a quite fair record of achievement and at least I have maintained the work ethic my parents instilled in all of us.

Penny and I imparted that same work ethic in our son, a Millennial. He has hit his stride in the military and has never ignored his considerable responsibilities, especially in his late teens and twenties.  I have a higher opinion of Millennials than even some later Gen-X’ers, those who were born in between our two generations.  No one actually seems to like the generation that comes right after them.  I had a cynical view of Generation X, until I actually worked with some of its members and  saw that there is, in reality, no full-on generation of slackers.  The world won’t let this happen, and few people like the results of slacking:  Poverty, debt and an authoritarian regime.

From what I’ve seen, I am certain we will, as I’ve said before, be just fine-with all of the generations working together.  Millennials and Generation Z will make it happen, just as we did.

Gen Z Charades

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October 20, 2016, Prescott-

A little boy and his sister greeted me, when I sat down behind their table, this evening, in a local pizza shop.

As time went on, and their father continued to talk with their uncle, the kids and their two cousins engaged in a game of charades.  There was no whining about when they were about to leave, just four children enjoying one another’s company.  The girl was the most inventive of the group, portraying everything from a softball pitcher to Nemo, the cartoon fish.

This is a bit of irony, compared with what I see lying ahead for the generation that will both follow the Millennials and will need to work, hand in glove with their immediate elders, in cleaning up so many of the messes that are being left them.  There will be no pretending for Generation Z, when they come of age.

Ways of solving problems will be found, the likes of which will seem as exotic, to any Baby Boomers who live into our eighties and nineties, as the i-Pad, solar energy and electronic music did, to those of the GI Generation.  Humanity will prevail, for many reasons, not the least of which is the hard-wired internal technology of the two rising generations.

Charades will be seen for what they are:  A parlour game, not a ruse for ignoring pressing issues.