The Road to Diamond, Day 269: Nomenclature

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August 24, 2025- Someone has alternately pronounced me “mentor” and a short time later, announced that they were MY “mentor’. The situation is that we have bounced ideas back and forth, period. I do not consider anyone currently alive as a mentor. My father, father-in-law and a long ago athletic coach filled that role for me, in earlier times. My mother taught me a lot, also. I still hold all the lessons those fine people sometimes pulled their hair out, trying to impart to me. The rest of us just support one another the best we can, back and forth.

Other words tend to get overgeneralized, and over used. “Vacation” is one such. There are people here in Home Base I, who insist that any time spent not working and/or away from Prescott is vacation. They want to know why I am going to be out of the country, for an extended period of time, when I could be working here. I can say this: There will not be a whole lot of resting, relaxing and idling. I can do all those things right here. The tasks ahead of me are labours of love, in which I also engage here-but there are friends in the countries to which I will be heading. I have the opportunities to connect with them in real time.

“Girlfriend” (and its male counterpart) is tossed around well beyond adolescence. The woman I care for deeply is my dearest friend, and that is where it stands. She stopped being a girl, many years ago-probably maturing well before I did, though she is a decade younger than I. Maybe the oblique reference to childhood is a wish by those who use such terms, for their own continuous adolescence. As for me, I rather like being an older adult, albeit one who is in good health.

Finally, “omnipotent” is being tossed around these days, by those on various ends of the spectrum who see their personal heroes emerging and gathering power. Be careful: “Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.”-Proverbs 16:18 I am willing to bet that each of the adulated ones is well aware of the above verse, and has many moments when wishing that admirers would calm down.

Soft Landings

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December 4, 2022- This will go down in history as the first time I won at “Candyland”, since 1959. The other players then were my sister, younger brother and a neighbour kid. Today, there were a friend up the road and two of her young neighbours. “Candyland”, the game, but not the fictional plantation in Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”, is the stuff of soft landings. Kids of any age can win or lose, because there is no strategy, no give and take-just pure dice rolling and advance or retreat, as the card pulled says to do. Of course, whoever shuffles the cards can pull a fast one, but why bother? Texas Hold ’em, it isn’t.

Speaking of poker, I haven’t played the game since 1974, before the heyday of Texas Hold’em. Back then, we preferred Seven Card Stud, and my own skills in the game were hit and miss. The particular logic of poker is often the sort of winner takes all thinking that routinely stoked anger in some of my friends at the time, with ridicule coming from those well-versed in ante-based card games in general, and Seven Card Stud in particular. Three guesses, as to how anger inter-playing with ridicule turned out. Poker is not the stuff of soft landings.

Some people see romance as a game of hit and miss. That is missing the point, both about love and about gamesmanship. A game, in the classical sense, has winners and losers. Love, in the true sense, has only winners. Of course, if romance-or any other by-product of love, becomes viewed as needful, then naturally there is a sense of loss. I have been in that state of mind, several times. Now, after an intense, but basically sound, marriage that physically ended nearly twelve years ago, and an equally intense, occasionally tortuous, effort to shed stored old pre-marital baggage regarding friendships with women, I have made the soft landing. Friendships with both men and women occupy two levels: A large number of people who I care about, but don’t see in the flesh all that often and a core group of people who I see on a regular basis. There is a third group, of 2-3 women, who are my closest confidantes, rating with my middle brother and my son, in that regard.

It is a world that some see as getting worse, a harder place in which to live. I don’t have their woes, but have come close at times. The parachute of the social network helps greatly, in lowering the impact, in softening the landing.