Category Archives: Travel

Acting, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Writing

Two to get ready

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Monday gratefuls: Paul’s ok. And the rest of us, well… Hard to say. Luke. Leo. Vince. Almost ready to go. A bit of packing. Some last minute details. Ruth. Seeing her today. Still feeling the afterwash from the play. A solid, satisfied feeling. Reminds me how much I love to write. And perform. A blue Colorado Sky. A Shadow Mountain Morning. The penultimate I’ll see for over a month. So ready to be on the road. Vince and Luke and Leo will take care of my house.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

One brief shining: Head buzzing a bit from sleeping in after the three late nights last week body atingle the after effects of hard work and a lot of loving given and received hugs and well wishes bon voyages applause quiet moments with Ruth a dinner with Alan and Joan nighttime drives up Brook Forest and Black Mountain Drives waiting for another flash view into the call of the natural world.

 

Tomorrow night well after midnight I’ll head out to the Parking Spot, a long term guarded lot near DIA. From there a shuttle bus to the American Airlines terminal and after that to the security checkpoint. My flight is at 5am and I’ll be there early, but I want to have no hiccups. I’ll sacrifice sleep for made connections. Sleep and I are going to have a rocky relationship for the next few days anyhow. Why not start at the beginning?

But, like most trips there are still some here and now matters to attend to. Have to go the Conifer post office and see if they’ll extend keeping my mail past what appears to be a hard limit of 30 days. I’ll be gone 36. I don’t imagine it’ll be a problem, but I do have to have the conversation with them. Then over to Evergreen and CBE to take the check for my dues. Without getting into the saga it’s a journey every year due to mailing foul ups and Mountain post offices. After that down the hill to see Ruth one last time before I leave.

Will complete my packing, essentially done, later on today or early tomorrow. Check in for my flight. Go over my packing list a final time. Excited. Ready. Would go right now if I could.

 

I do have a new idea for a novel. It’s banging around, making itself felt. Imagining this and that. How this might look, where this thread might lead. I love this time with a new work. Where all the ideas are fresh, seen in their fanciest clothes before the hard work of writing begins to wear them down to real thoughts and words. Where all the possibilities expand out from a simple idea, roads leading to this plot or that one. Characters emerging, sinking away. Writing winnows all those roads until there are only the essential ones, all those characters down to the ones needed to tell the story, all those places to the ones most evocative of the storyline.

Acting, Travel

Anticipation

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Ruth. Working, struggling. Rosenberg’s Deli. Bagels, cream cheese with caviar for Ruth. Driving down the hill. Driving back up. Widest temperature spread ever: 101 in Denver, 80 on Shadow Mountain. Bless the altitude. Family. My son playing slow pitch softball. Seoah studying English and Social Studies. Flight Review, an app for travelers of all sorts. Apples and peanut butter.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Mind and the Brain in all their complexities

One brief shining: A shiver of disconnection runs through me expressing my remembered absence from Shadow Mountain before it happens as I make sure the passport, yes, cables, yes, drugs, yes, flight still on, so far yes, thinking of being in the air over Denver on my way to Incheon, perhaps reading the book of Korean short stories I got a couple of days ago, sinking into my seat for the long haul.

 

Last week I mailed a package to my son via the APO mail system. Military mail. I think I’m going to beat it there. I track it and it just left Chicago for the next USPS facility. Not sure when the military takes over. It has gifts and a guidebook for the subway plus Jon’s tax refund. No matter when it gets there, I didn’t have to carry these items. A good deal for $20.

Marilyn Saltzman, an intrepid traveler, gave me some good tips. She recommended the Flight Review app which announces flight and gate changes often before the airlines do. Easy to use and free. Also, Jetzone, a homeopathic jet lag treatment that she said actually helps. Also, not for the Korea trip, but when I hit Heathrow in October on my way to Israel there’s a little used escalator to the train that bypasses the elevator crush when gates are announced there. Only 40 minutes before the flight!

Yes that travel gene, an inheritance from both Mom and Dad. Mary and Mark have covered the planet. I’ve been here and there, as well. My primary reasons: seeing myself as other and learning new ways to solve common human life needs like what to eat, what to wear, how to communicate, how to build homes and businesses, how to get from one spot to another, how to embrace or reject human difference, how to treat strangers and guests, how to show reverence for the sacred.

Saw an article yesterday that said Denver Airport is the third busiest in the world. People are missing planes because of long security lines. Made me glad I’m getting to the airport at 3 am for my 5 am flight. Yes, the first leg is domestic. I fly from here to Dallas, then get on another American Airlines flight that turns around and flies right back over Denver on the great circle route to Korea.

 

Tonight is the showcase for the character study class. Moved up a week so I could participate since I’ll be in Korea next Saturday. I’ve gotten a lot out of this class. Learned a new skill: playwriting. Also how to express three different characters using voice and posture. Plus I seem to have done a good job of blending Chinese poetry and the Tarot archetype of the Hooded Man/the Hermit. Exciting. Will be videoed, I think.

 

Acting, Family, Health, Politics, Travel, Writing

The Ancientrails of Politics, Theater, and Health

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: A week from today I’ll be in Osan. If all goes well. Ruth. Gabe. Acting. Tom. Diane. The Ancient Brothers on being 24. Asian Art. Shin Long-Lin. The tea ceremony. Ichi-go, ichi-e. Tsundoku. Forest bathing. In my back yard. The Asian pivot of my family. Magic the Gathering. Formula One. Baseball. Chinese bronzes. Ukiyo-e prints. The Kano period in Japanese screen painting. Song dynasty ceramics. Korean celadon. Song dynasty painting. Asia. So much history. So little known here.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Asia

One brief shining: Put on a new ring this morning Gold with a setting of Emeralds Kate purchased in Cartagena because the jewelers had air conditioning; I had the Emeralds set in the ring when Kate had a breast cancer scare over 25 years ago, now it soothes me with her memory and as a talisman against cancer.

 

Yesterday I loaded my pill containers with blood pressure meds, cholesterol meds, psych meds, but no cancer meds. Everybody I mention it to is happy for me. It felt liberating, for sure. Yet than niggling hangover. I’m not treating it now, as I have been for nine years. What will it do? Guess I got used to having a dike against it. Surgery. Radiation. Drugs. Trust your doctors, she said. And, zip up. Yes, dear.

 

Tonight is dress rehearsal. My parchment copies of the Cold Mountain poems, done in calligraphy by Ann, get delivered today at 12:30. Perhaps a white banner with the Chinese ideograms for Han Shan. I’ll put on my linen pullover shirt, my linen medieval pants, and if it’s cool enough for the rehearsal, the hooded poncho. I have my water gourd, too. The sort used by Chinese recluses and martial artists to carry wine. It’s my visual signal that Herme and Han Shan may be the same person. I’m going to run through the whole thing again. I know it, but I fell out of character at a certain point Tuesday. Don’t want that to happen on Saturday night.

Just realized I don’t feel the same sort of vulnerability with The Trail to Cold Mountain that I’ve felt with my novels. Odd since Joan’s in the class. A successful novelist. Tal helped me understand the collaborative nature of playwriting. Maybe that’s it. The first written work I’ve done that was collaborative. Maybe a clue there?

 

Been feeling Kate this week. Her 79th birthday tomorrow. A full post for her then.

 

How bout those Georgia indictments? No Federal pardons allowed and no pardons at all allowed until 5 years of a sentence has been served. Sounds fair to me. The Orange One is the most indicted Presidential candidate ever! What an honor.

I hope for a few things for the next election. That the indictments convince independents to vote Democrat. That the abortion issue catalyzes women, including moderate Republican women to not only vote, but to get out the vote. That the fall off [to death] of four million older white males and the large number of newly voting aged Gen Z’ers give Democrats a boost.

Also, I’ve been amazed at Biden’s successes with the Inflation Reduction Act, the bipartisan Infrastructure bill, the Covid Relief bill, and the CHIPS act (building semi-conductors at home). This is not to mention his deft handling of the war in the Ukraine, supporting that nation without getting us directly involved. Also not to mention (bar Hunter’s problems) the scandal free term. No dogwhistling. gaslighting, or outright incitement to riot. Which shouldn’t have to be noted as a success except over against 45’s awful, treasonous behavior.

We have to sell Biden’s work.

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hawai'i, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Weather +Climate

Lucky and Privileged

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Lughnasa and the Herme Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Cybermage Bill Schmidt. The Ancient Brothers. Alan. Joan. The Bread Lounge. Jamie and Benji. Rich and Ron. My son. Jon’s estate. Leo. Luke. Tal. CBE. The Parking Spot. Checking off my before Korea list. Close to done. Gray Skies before Great Sol has come above the horizon. Mountain Streams now running lower. That fourteen point Mule Deer Buck on Black Mountain Drive. Gracie and Ann. Janet. Metaphors, shaping our world. Shaping our metaphors, shaping our world. The brain. Consciousness. The sacred.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain in the Mountains

One brief shining: Pre-trip excitement beginning to rise, packing Artemis honey in bubble wrap (the last large jar), that Breckenridge tumbler, too, rolling up the t-shirts with Mountains and Buffaloes on them, the dish towels with Beavers and Mountain Goats, the children’s books about the Rocky Mountains, Colorado and Mountain stickers, carefully placing them all in that Chinese box that brought something here a while back, then packing tape, packing tape, packing tape along with an APO address and it’s off to Korea ahead of me.

 

Feeling lucky and privileged this morning. Healthy enough to travel at 76. Money enough to travel. Family I want to see living in a place I’m excited to explore further. Korea. Feeling the collision of four big events coming in this next week: the showcase on my first ever play script on Saturday plus Tuesday class and Thursday dress rehearsal, my first lesson with Rabbi Jamie for my conversion on Thursday, finishing up my travel plans by counting my drugs and ordering what I need if any, talking to Vince, Luke, nailing down how much money I’ll need in my bank account, and my appointment with Kristie where my drug holiday will probably be officially begun.

It’s been a while since I’ve traveled. Last time was to Hawai’i. My son and Seoah. I’ve not done any international travel since Kate and I went to Korea in 2016 for my son and Seoah’s wedding. This time I’m going radically light. Only a backpack with meds, electronics, one t-shirt, one pair of socks. I’ll buy socks, t-shirts, underwear when I get there. I already have some pants and shirts there as well as a split keyboard and a mouse. There’s been a lot of lost luggage this summer travel season and I want to travel light. Also, no direct flights. I don’t mind checking a bag onto a direct flight, but if there’s even one stop? Nope. Not sure yet what I’m going to do for Israel. Probably the same.

My whole family travels much more than I do, so this would be no big deal for them, but for me it feels like quite the adventure.

 

Looking at the devastation in Lahaina. Found my heart sinking, wondering most about the fate of the Banyan Tree around the court house. Relieved to see it was damaged, but not killed. A picture of a woman who spent five hours! in the ocean. So, so sad. 60 deaths. Knowing someday it could be Shadow Mountain captured by the news.

Family, Feelings, Hawai'i, Memories, Travel

Fire and Memories

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Lughnasa and the Herme Moon

Friday gratefuls: Mussar. Rebecca. Parkside. Morning chill. Pre-travel excitement/apprehension. Prostate Cancer. Kathy. Diane. Sally. All with cancer, too. Not statistics but people I know. And see often. Judy and Leslie. Kate, always Kate. Their memories are a blessing. Jon, a memory. Ruth and Gabe. Maui. Then and now. Hawai’i. Korea. Israel. Travel.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Travel

One brief shining: An outdoor table metal, an orange umbrella, Sun cooled by a Mountain breeze, coffee and a glass of Water with ice cubes, a table filled with folks in their twenties loud in the way of good friends enjoying each other, and my sandwich, a Reuben, while I talked with my friend Rebecca, a good morning.

 

Maui. So many memories. Kate had to talk me into going with her to Maui the first time. I had visions of a cheesy place with bobble-headed hula dancers, fake culture, and too many tourists. No thanks. Still, we were just married and I thought, well. At least it’s with Kate. She didn’t have to convince me the second time. While other folks played on the beach, I hiked in the interior where there was no one. Kate had her classes during the day and I drove our convertible rental car to the Iao Needle, up Haleakala, on the one lane road around west Maui. Or, I would hike into Lahaina from the hotel, have mahi-mahi and eggs for breakfast, go sit under the banyan tree.

In the evenings Kate and I would go to Mama’s Fish House or to a spot in Lahaina for an evening meal. We both loved a good meal overlooking the ocean, being with each other. Never dull. Never nothing to say. I miss her and now I miss Lahaina, that long time tourist town which was also a link to Royal Hawai’i as well as a provisioning location for whalers and traders plying the Pacific. A lot of pleasant hours wandering in and out of its art galleries, its yes cheesy tourist shops, having a shave ice, or sitting on a bench near the ocean.

On our first trip I got a permission slip from the sugar company that owned the land and hiked up to the Lahaina L, a large letter standing for Lahainaluna High School. Lahainaluna means overlooking Lahaina. I wandered up 2000 foot Mt. Ball, found the letter, and got lost coming back down. Hot and sweaty and covered in red dust I finally got back to the Westin. Oh, so good that shower.

Mama’s Fish House, the second most reserved restaurant in the U.S. I celebrated my 60th and my 65th birthdays there since Kate’s continuing medical education events were always mid-February. On the menu is the name of the fisherman who caught that day the fish you were eating that night. While you eat you can watch the wind surfers on the bay. Hawai’i and Kate. Maui and Kate. We went so many times, so many. And loved each one. And each other.

Judaism, Korea, Politics, Travel, US History, World History

Nations. Divided.

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Lughnasa and the Herme Moon

Monday gratefuls: Murdoch. That funny guy. Leo, gone home. Luke. Tal. 48 degrees. Clear Sky. Great Sol brightening the Lodgepoles and Black Mountain. Great Sol’s angle already beginning to visibly decline. The harvest season underway. The Midwest. Its farms and farmers. Its humidity. The arid West. Its Mountains. Dogs. All Dogs. Of all time. Angels. Love incarnate. The Sacred. Revelation.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dogs

One brief shining: A Dog lays her head in your lap, gazes up at you with adoration, follows you on a walk, waits for you at the door when you come home tired from work, tail wagging, eyes filled with you only you and you reach down, pat her, scratch behind her ears, then the world comes into focus.

 

Realized only yesterday that my travels this year will take me to two divided nations, Israel and Korea. Very different in the origin of the divisions, yes, one xenophobic and the other bemoaned on both sides yet hardened and both societies with strong military presences, the threat of imminent conflict always in the air. I wonder what to look for, how to gauge the impact of the Arab/Israeli conflict on day-to-day life in both Israel and the West Bank. In Korea the division separates a nation into two parts, a  Southern and Northern, yet considered one country by all Koreans. How though does the continuing division affect the average Korean? Not my main reason for visiting either place yet a dominant reality in both.

After my conversion in Jerusalem, I will have a strong personal stake in both countries. A Jew considering the life of Israel. And, a father-in-law with a Korean daughter-in-law, my son stationed in Korea for four years. Also, the Jang family, Seoah’s brother, two sisters, nieces and nephews, her mother and father. The deep wounds in both countries have increased significance for me.

Makes me wonder about the soft division (compared to Israel and Korea) that has come to dominate American politics. About its impact on our body politic here. How does a nation fare when large numbers of its citizens disagree on the fundamentals of what it means to be a nation? What is, after all, a nation? Certainly it requires some minimal cohesion among its resident population.

This Wikipedia entry, nation, has a nice precis of what the word has meant and might mean in the future. It’s important to remember that the nation state is a relatively recent invention, most scholars agreeing that the modern nation state arose in the 17th century. I found this quote from the Wiki helpful: “The consensus among scholars is that nations are socially constructed, historically contingent, and organizationally flexible.” My mental ears perked up at the first two terms: socially constructed and historically contingent.

Yes. Israel came into being in 1947, a recent expression of an old homeland, one imposed on an existing territory already occupied by Jews and Arab. Socially constructed as a necessary antidote to the horrors of Hitler’s Germany, yet oh so historically contingent as an increasingly large swath of the diaspora, Palestinians, and progressive Israelis argue it must change its nature as a nation. It is refusing to be organizationally flexible.

Korea though is an ethnic nation divided by modern politics. Both South Korea and North Korea socially constructed by the historical contingencies of big power politics, the Cold War, of the 1950’s. Because of those ties of ethnicity, most Koreans on both sides of the border yearn for unification.

Yet here. Here. The standout phrase. Historically contingent. As in, will not necessarily always exist. The nature of our socially constructed reality? Contested. Is there an organizational structure that can contain both far right and liberal Americans? That is our big question.

 

 

 

Acting, Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Travel, US History, World History

No people

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Summer and the Herme Moon

Monday gratefuls: Cold Mountain. The path to Cold Mountain. Tom’s journey. The flaming sword that guards the entrance to Eden. Myth. The myths we live by. Odysseus. Achilles. Priam. Troy. Helen. Homer. Zeus. Hermes. Hera. Apollo. Poseidon. Hercules. God. Jesus. Mohammed. Mark. John. Matthew. Luke. Moses. Joshua. King David. King Solomon. Rebecca. Jacob. At the Jabbok Ford. Baucis and Philemon. Aphrodite. Lycaon. Cadmus and the dragon teeth warriors. Paul Bunyan. Babe the Blue Ox. Johnny Inkslinger.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Myth

One brief shining: Took a can of cold seltzer Water out of the fridge it cooled my hand while I went upstairs to my home office where my computer waits always on for me to sit in that Herman Miller chair Kate bought me for a long ago birthday clicking on the keyboard the screen comes to life and I’m ready to get started on another post for Ancientrails.

 

Three days in a row with no in person human contact. I needed it after last week. Left me tired, wrung out. Rode hard and put away wet. I did talk with my son and Seoah on Saturday night [AM Korea time] and BJ and Sarah on Sunday late afternoon. Other than that working out, reading about Korea, working on what is now titled The Trail to Cold Mountain, that sorta thing. Thinking about revelation, about faith as a secondary characteristic of revelation. About what is sacred. Holy. Divine. A full three days but quiet, peaceful. Restorative.

Could go another two based on no class tonight and nothing on the calendar on Wednesday. But. Nope. Going out for breakfast. See some real people. Then back home for a day with The Trail to Cold Mountain. Herme is still the main character and it’s still his story, but I’m modifying it a lot thanks to Tal and Joan’s ideas.

 

My son wants me to learn how to play Magic: The Gathering before I get to Korea. I’m doing that. It’s a very popular strategy game played around the world in person and online. He’s excited about a new batch of Magic cards that have just come out based on the Lord of the Rings. There’s an online tutorial. My next lesson is on Creature Combat. I remember when it was Zelda and Mario Brothers on the Nintendo. Long time ago.

 

Reading about the Far Right has taken a back seat lately to Korea. Now some ways into Two Koreas. It’s a very different read from Korea’s Place in the Sun. Written by two journalists it has a more first person you were there feel to it. Will give me a different perspective on the war and postwar years. Enjoying it so far.

 

Feeling the outwash from the jet engines on my plane to Incheon. Figuring out adapters and transformers. Smart phone and sim cards. How I can keep myself connected and charged while in Osan. Also learning a bit about the Seoul subway system. Probably will revisit my Korean lessons starting soon. Have to get spare keys made. Reserve an Uber for the airport. Check my drugs to make sure I have enough for a month away. Stop mail. Buy gifts and send them soon to the APO address for my son. No sense carrying them. Figuring out the lightest possible packing plan. All that stuff.

 

Considering holding off on the crossing the threshold ritual until next year. Might be more than I can handle with Korea, conversion, Israel.

 

 

Acting, Korea, Travel, Weather +Climate, Writing

Changes

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Summer and the Herme Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Rebecca. Mussar. Hail at 5:30 AM. 48 degrees. Living at altitude. That Bull Elk Tuesday night. Wildness. Wild neighbors. Fox. Moose. Marmot. Robin. Magpie. Abert’s Squirrel. Red Squirrel. Ravens. Crows. Lodgepoles. Aspen. Various Grasses. Judaism. Sadness. Acting Class. Herme. Taking shape. Writing. Creating a short play.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Wildness

One brief shining: Wham wham wham woke me up as Hail pounded against my bedroom window followed by driven Rain Thunder and Lightning all the old familiar sounds from my Midwestern days not so welcome in the Arapaho National Forest with all its Lodgepole Pines.

 

Breakfast with Dick Arnold, my roommate in Israel. He says the Tomatoes in Israel are the best anywhere. Something about irrigation with slightly salinated water and the Tomatoes compensating by producing more sugars. Looking forward to that. Israeli restaurants divide up by dairy or meat. He’s lactose intolerant so as long as he’s in the right restaurant, he can eat anything. Handy. Kosher, I’m sure. Dick was a therapist specializing in kids and abused women.

Talked to him about Ruth a bit. He gave me a tip. When I told him I felt sad about her situation, he said it might be empathetic sadness. In other words a feeling I’m getting from her, too. Might help guide me when I’m with her. He said something else that surprised me, but made sense. After that all caregiving, you’ve been opened up. I understood what he meant immediately. I knew I’d changed over the last few years but I thought it was just aging. Not only that. A welcome opening of my heart.

 

Came back from breakfast, read some more from Cuming’s Korea’s Place in the Sun, felt sleepy and took a long nap. Over to Jackie’s for a hair cut. The estrogen was flowing. Jackie, I said, you run a friends central salon. Friends, mostly women, stop by, give her a hug and kiss. Same for Rhonda. A warm, loving space. We could use more of them. And. My hair looks great.

 

Thinking about Herme, the short play. Four characters: Herme, Gaius Ovidius, the Seeker, Cold Mountain. I have Herme and Cold Mountain down. I need to work on Gaius and the Seeker. That is, I have to create their characters as distinct from Herme and Cold Mountain. Not only voice, but posture, attitude. Guess that’s why they call it acting. According to Meisner, I have to find a truthful way to be them in an imaginary situation. I also have to write more dialogue, edit some of what I’ve got. The challenge is real, but I’m getting there.

Feel like I’ve found a strong ending by changing the way the last poem will be read. In the voice and character of the Seeker. Signalling that she has joined Herme and Cold Mountain. Joan came up with the idea that Herme and Cold Mountain are the same. I liked that idea and I’m using it. Tal has helped me see how I need to shape the characters and the dramatic arc. I like the collaboration.

My first time writing a play and I find the help supportive. Mostly. I’m a little defensive. Hey, that’s my work we’re talking about. Maybe it’s the changed nature of my nature that Dick helped me see. Allowing help in.

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Holidays, Judaism, Korea, Politics, Travel, US History

Happy Birthday to the good ole U.S.A.

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Tuesday gratefuls: Acting class tonight. First half of Israel trip paid for. Herme introduction rewritten. Parchment paper ordered. No Fireworks up here. Good for Dogs. Fire. Air. Thin air, melting into thin air. My feet and toes. Holding me up since 1947. My ankles and calves and thighs. Mobility. My pelvis, butt, penis and testicles. Sitting, twisting, elimination. No joy at this point in my life. My thorax. Holding important stuff in. My arms and fingers. Dexterity for all my needs. My shoulders and neck. Supporting my head. My head, mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. Eating, hearing (sort of), seeing, smelling, taking in oxygen, a case for my brain. All these years forgot to be grateful for that which is closest.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My body

One brief shining: Can you imagine the evolution of the eye or the slow changes necessary to create a thumb perhaps you are the one who can follow the path from our One-Celled ancestors to a beating heart maybe you grasp the folding and intricate interlacing of brain matter neurons synapses the marvel of language as it first sat on the first tongue to express a thought through sound oh this everyday miracle our body ourselves our home for life.

 

I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy, a real live nephew of my Uncle Sam, born on the Fourth of July. Today is Seoah’s Yankee Doodle birthday. What a great birthday for a naturalized U.S. citizen. Seoah and my son. Ruth and Gabe. My immediate family. Mark in Saudi Arabia. Mary to return to Malaysia and South East Asia. They are my hope for this country. Them specifically and what they represent.

Seoah, a Korean by birth and a citizen of Korea until two years ago. She married my son, a Bengali by birth. Both now naturalized citizens of the U.S.A. My son serving this country in the military. Both abroad, in Korea, protecting not only the U.S.A. but much of Asia as well. This is, in these two people, the most fundamental promise of America. That you can come here from wherever you were born, no matter the circumstances, and become a citizen, a full-fledged participant in the colorful tapestry of American life.

Or consider Ruth and Gabe. On their mother’s side Jewish, their grandfather a Romanian Jew from Bucharest and their grandmother of an immigrant Jewish family as well. Third generation. On their father’s side Norwegian ancestry four generations removed from Bergen. They are also both Gen Z, the most politically aware generation since the Boomers. They will need to be with the crushing weight of adaptation to climate change they will have to carry.

Mary and Mark. The expat life. Being American on foreign soil. Contributing to the lives and welfare of Saudis, Thais, Malaysians, Japanese, and Singaporeans. Representing the American ideal of a world known for its inclusion rather than its chauvinism. Representing our country to other cultures. Being the good American rather than the ugly American.

How can I not be hopeful when I can see in my own family the very America I hold so close and dear. Especially on this day.

 

Acting, Denver, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Literature, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Weather +Climate

Learning my lesson. Again. And, yet again.

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Monday gratefuls: Tal. Lid. Luke. Leo. Dick. Ellen. Rabbi Jamie. Laura. Lisa. Sagittarius Ponderosa. Roaming Gnome Theater. Aurora. Bad memories. Not blessings. Angry Chicken. Korean hot pot. Sundays. Shabbat. Seoah. Murdoch. Storms coming. The wettest June on record here. Keeping that Fire risk low. Traveler’s insurance. Allianz long term care insurance. Kristen. Travel medicine. Travel. Welcome to the journey.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shakespeare

One brief shining: Read some of the Tempest and Midsummer Night’s dream this morning reminded of the packed and punchy nature of Shakespeare his plays and his poems words all tight ricocheting off each other building meanings until like a Han Shan poem one line changes the meanings of all that came before a genius so luminous I feel like kneeling down before him to say, Master!

 

Ooh boy. I keep learning and relearning the same lesson. Which I suppose means I’m not learning at all. Anyhow. Drove into Denver yesterday, then into Aurora near Jon’s old house. Left here about 11:45. My plan. Go to Stanley Market, eat at Rosenberg’s deli, then make the short trip from there to Roaming Gnome theater for the matinee performance of Sagittarius Ponderosa.

About half way down the hill on 285 I saw all the cars streaming west, latecomers to the usual Friday boat and camper show headed to South Park and the interior of the Rocky Mountains. What’s this? Oh. July 4th traffic. Folks taking the week, leaving late to avoid the Friday afternoon traffic jams so common here. Wait. July 4th weekend.

Oh. Stanley Marketplace. Will be packed. I might not get served in time. I had given myself an hour to eat after arriving. Began to run through alternatives. The Bagel Deli just past I-25. That could work. Pulled into their parking lot. Nope. Folks waiting outside. Confirmed my hunch about Stanley Marketplace. Well. New York Deli not far from that spot. Will be too busy, too. A holiday weekend.

I had wanted to eat lunch at Rosenberg’s, then pick up some dinner at the Angry Chicken after the play. I love their Korean fried chicken, but it’s way too far to go unless I’m close by. Turned north as 285/Hampden became Havana. An Asian inflected part of the Denver metro. H-Mart nearby. Lots of pho shops. A Korean hot pot and barbecue restaurant. Hmm. May not be as invested in the holiday weekend. Could be easier to get in and get out.

It was. I had never had hot pot before though it’s similar in nature to Khan’s Mongolian barbecue in the Twin Cities. Tables with induction coil wells over which a pot of broth sits. You pick up soup ingredients on your own, take them back to the table, and put them in the heating broth. Waitress delivers the meat in thinly sliced rolls on long platters. Spent more than I wanted to but I learned how to do it. Will be useful when I hit Osan. Could have been tasty but I was in a hurry and didn’t really realize the potential of the hot pot.

Got to the theater a bit late. They had waited for me. But not long. Sag was already underway. In the small darkened space I fumbled my way toward a seat. Dick and Ellen Arnold were seating in the same four chair row.

The play itself. Can’t tell whether my hearing made it difficult to follow or whether it was the script. Or, the direction. Anyhow it had funny moments, tender moments, and commentary on the difficulty of communicating our selves as we know them to others, especially family members. Perhaps my expectations were too high?

Anyhow I left quickly after the play was over at 3:30. Not before greeting Luke, Leo, Tal, Dick and Ellen, Jamie and Laura. Realized I leave things early because the hubbub afterward makes it impossible for me to hear.

Drove to the Angry Chicken on Havana. Blessedly on the way home. Put in my to go order. Ten wings and some corn salad. Waited twenty minutes. Plastic bag in hand I left.

Then drove back across the south Denver Metro in 90 degree heat, AC blasting. This is the lesson. I left the Angry Chicken at about 4:30. With the hard part of the drive ahead of me. I’d already been gone from home for almost five hours. Exhausted. Still in the city. The drive wasn’t torture. Not exactly. But it was uncomfortable, unpleasant. I was worn out, wanted nothing more than to be home. In my chair. At 8,800 feet. Cooler. Quieter. Way less busy.

I can’t drive that far anymore for that long and not get exhausted. Just can’t. I know it. But not well enough. Not sure what to do about it either. Stay home? Nope. Need human connection, some out of the house moments. Go with others? Maybe.