Category Archives: Travel

Hmmm…

Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Sunday gratefuls: Tom. Friendship. My son and his wife’s parents, sisters, nieces and nephews. On zoom yesterday evening. Mark in the sands of Araby. Mary in Eau Claire. Diane in San Francisco. Alan in Denver. Marilyn in Cincinnati. Irv in King’s Valley. Israel. Korea. A bright blue, cool Colorado Morning atop Shadow Mountain. Jamie. Ellen and Dick. Luke and Leo. Kat at Aspen Perk’s.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Korean family

One brief shining: Zooming to Korea from Shadow Mountain my son’s wife’s family gathered in his and hers new apartment excited to talk to the American living in the Rocky Mountains his wife acting as translator while her father happily gesticulated, smiled and surprised me by asking me how old I was, 76 I said, 81 he said and I bowed to him and called him kangim (elder, I think. If I have that word right) much to the amusement of all.

 

My visit to Korea will have me deeper in a foreign culture than I have ever been. I’ve visited many but not stayed for long and never had the level of personal contact I will with Seoah’s family. I admire both Mary and Mark for their long term ex-pat experiences in Malyasia, Singapore, Thailand, Japan, Cambodia, and Saudi Arabia. It takes a certain level of inner flexibility and sensitivity to live life, your everyday life, in a culture not your own.

I feel twinned feelings of excitement and intimidation. Mostly around language. Yes, I’ve been studying Korean but I’ve been hit or miss on it recently. I’ve learned to read hangul, the Korean alphabet, and have several words, both nouns and verbs. Yes. But. Pronouncing it? Oh, my. Very far from my capacity right now. On the call yesterday I asked Seoah’s sisters if they would help me learn and they nodded yes. After laughing at my pronunciation of elder and dog. They apparently want to teach me the Gwangju accent. I think so I won’t be confused with one of those Seoul types.

There was though even on this call a real sense that this was my family, too. That I was part of them and they included me in their visit too. Maybe with the exception of Seoah’s mom. Not sure about her. She seems a little distant. But, that could also be me misreading her.

Murdoch went happily from nieces to nephews, chewing on a small pink baby slipper that Seoah’s niece purchased for him.

 

Tom and I had a quiet day yesterday. We both exhausted our selves on the Royal Gorge trip. We’re no longer the young men we used to be. By a decade at least.

 

Ruth and Gabe are off to North Carolina this morning. Flying into Charlotte, I believe. They’ll be there for two weeks, helping move Annie into assisted living. Jerry and Sarah have a beautiful rural compound near Belews Creek. Jerry, a painter and builder, has built many buildings on it including a stand alone wine cellar, what is now a guest cabin, and their home. Sarah has many gardens.

 

A journey into mystery

Summer with the Summer Moon Above

Saturday gratefuls: Tom. Aspen Perks. Chicken fried steak and eggs. Coffee. Good conversation. Shaggy Sheep. Kenosha Pass. South Park. No snow plowing from 7pm to 5am.  Canon City. Guffey. Fairplay. Bailey. Royal Gorge Railroad. The Arkansas River. Rafters. The Gorge. Volcanic remnants. Walls of Rock. The Bear. The Bear Butt. Rescue on the Water. Pronghorn Antelope. Big Horn Sheep. A hot blue Sky day.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Two exhausted men hugging a utility pole

One brief shining: Tom and I looked out the window of our dining car having become used to the sight of rafters six to a boat with one staff person at the rear passing down the muddy, raging Arkansas their blue or red rubber rafts following the currents around white Water covered Boulders and saw…people in the yellow helmets and life vests of the raft passengers desperately trying to stay afloat as the River swept them downstream!

 

A day of mystery. The first had come on a road far into our trip which had signs reading: No Snow plowing from 7pm to 5am. What? A second mystery was the biological position of the Pronghorn Antelope. Was it a Camelid? A Goat? A Cervid? The third and most disconcerting was the blue raft empty of passengers, its lone staff person guiding it by himself.

Let’s back up. Around 7 am Tom and I took off for Canon City and the Royal Gorge Railroad. We had tickets for a luxury meal on the 12:30 train. We stopped at the Shaggy Sheep near Guanella Pass for breakfast, run by a chef who got tired of the Manhattan rat race. Good food. About 20 minutes west of Bailey.

When I started to write that last paragraph, I realized something interesting. We passed through only two towns on our way to Canon City: Bailey and Fairplay. That’s along a two and a half hour drive South and a bit West. Two towns. South Park through which most of our route ran is an example of the High Plains, flat expanses at 9,000 feet. Windy and cold in the Winter and hot in the Summer. Not many folks live on it. Two towns.

You arrive at South Park after using the Kenosha Pass on Hwy 285, an 11,000 foot spot where the Mountain Peaks level out for a bit allowing a road to be run over them. After you crest the pass, South Park spreads out below looking like Midwestern farming country. Cattle grazing. Bales of hay in the fields. Farm equipment at the homesteads. Yet ringed by Mountains, snow capped this June, and elevated far above the farms of Indiana, Iowa, and Illinois.

 

We reached that first mystery after we passed out of Park County, which encompasses most of South Park. No Snow plowing from 7pm to 5am. I couldn’t imagine what the sign meant and why you would need one? Are there rogue snowplowers who might insist on plowing this road anyhow? Didn’t seem likely. Solved this mystery once back on my home computer. It’s a Colorado Department of Transportation regulation for the whole state that disallows Snow plowing on stretches of highway that receive fewer than 1,000 trips over night. Staff and budget shortages due to Covid.

 

The second mystery came as we passed the occasional Pronghorn standing in a field. I’d heard from a hunter that they were Goats. That didn’t seem right. Most likely seemed a family relation to the Cervids: Moose, Elk, Deer. Somewhere I thought I’d read they were related to Camels. None of the above as it turns out. Here’s a quick explanation from Wikipedia:

“As a member of the superfamily Giraffoidea, the pronghorn’s closest living relatives are the giraffe and okapi.[14] The Giraffoidea are in turn members of the infraorder Pecora, making pronghorns more distant relatives of the Cervidae (deer) and Bovidae (cattle, goats, sheep, antelopes, and gazelles), among others.” Wiki

The same article points out that they are the only surviving member of their family, Antilocapra americana. They’re the fastest land animal in North America capable of up to 55 mph.

 

The third mystery though remains unresolved. We had finished our Osso Buco and Buffalo Shortribs as the Royal Gorge Railroad train on which we rode passed out of the Gorge and had begun to head back. We looked out the window to the Arkansas River flowing fast beside the train as it had been since we left Canon City. We saw more of the red and blue rubber rafts representing different float companies setting out on their journey down the surging River. What fun!

At some point we stopped to pick up a fatigued kayaker. We both thought, likely heart attack. Paramedics on the train tended to him on the observation car attached at what was now the front of the train and also attached to the car in which Tom and I rode. That was interesting. Nice that the train was there and able to help.

Further along, again looking out the window. Oh. My. God. Look. That’s somebody in the water! Yellow helmet and safety vest suggested a passenger from one of the rafts. Then Tom said. There’s another one! Over there. About to hit the wall. He turned a bit further to look and noticed a blue rubber raft empty of passengers, only the staff person with the rudder oar still sitting in it. The rafts all had six passengers when they set out from the landing where the train had switched directions only ten or fifteen minutes ago. We’d seen two men in the water. Where were the other four?

The train moved on and we only saw the two. Tom thought he saw one of them reach a raft and get pulled aboard. We passed two more of the blue rubber rafts bobbing at the rocky wall to the River a bit further but the train kept moving. Then it slowed. And backed up.

I asked a Native American train staff if he knew whether they’d picked up the people in the water. We’re not allowed to comment on it. Oh.

The train moved back to the site where the two rafts had stopped along the wall of the Gorge. At a utility pole there two of the men we’d seen in the water hugged the pole looking exhausted and bewildered, surrounded by others. A third man struggled up the embankment with no help from the rafting staff, also plainly one who had been in the water.

What happened to the other three passengers remains unknown to me though I’ve searched several times. A man died on the same stretch of water only four days ago. Thrown from the raft. The 14th water related death in Colorado this year.

When the train arrived back in Canon City, there were EMT’s and an ambulance and a fire truck there to receive the rafters. They were placed on gurneys and then disappeared from sight.

What of the other three? Unknown. Tom suggested that maybe they were younger and stronger swimmers who reached the shore on their own. The three we saw all appeared to be middle aged men. May it be as Tom suggests.

 

 

A Thursday with Friends

Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Friday gratefuls: Tom. Ellen and Dick. Hail. Again. Cool nights. Good sleeping. God is Here. Metaphor. Kathy. Luke. Vince. Gutters. Psilocybin. Flower. Weed. Red Rocks. The Bread Lounge. A Cuban. Evergreen. Gracie and Ann. CBE. High water on the fish ladder. Maxwell Creek running full.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friendship

One brief shining: Life in its fullness comes running at you, with you like a Mountain Stream after a heavy Rain, crashing over barriers, not allowing any obstacles, where necessary spreading out, then calmly, gently flowing into the placid waters of a great River, headed to the World Ocean.

 

Yesterday. A full day. Talking to Diane, always a pleasure. Catching up on family news. A favorite cousin for all of us moved into hospice. We’re all in the aging range. This group that used to play with each other at Thanksgiving, during family reunions at Riley Park, on the farm outside Morristown. Family in its longue dureé as Ginny, daughter of Diane’s sister, Kristen, gives birth to a new generation of the Keaton clan as have children of other cousins. We will wink out one by one, but the family will continue.

 

Over to the Bread Lounge to read a bit before Tom got here from DIA. Instead ran into Tal and Alan talking to each other. Alan in his  usual I’m here to assist you mode trying to figure out how he can help Tal’s new company, All in Ensemble.

Alan’s decided to let his beard grow back. I’m glad. It was odd seeing him clean shaven. He shaved for his art, as he says. A role in Zorro!, the musical.

Together we talked about Tal’s character study class, about mutual friends and family. The Bread Lounge serves as the student union restaurant for Evergreen. Go there and you see folks you know.

After Alan left, Tal and I discussed my character Herme. He liked my idea of a one-act play to introduce the Rivers and Mountains Poets of China to Mountain audiences. He offered to help me in any way he can. He’s bringing an outline from a playwrighting class to our next Tuesday class. Who knows? Perhaps the Hooded Man will play up and down the spine of the Rocky Mountains. Could happen.

 

Tom got to the Bread Lounge after navigating an overly busy DIA filled with summer travelers. We ordered sandwiches, which came late so we had to pack them up and head over to mussar. Where we discussed the role of metaphor in our daily lives and the implications of metaphor for understanding what we might mean when we use the metaphor God. A good heart/mind conversation.

Following mussar Tom and I were hosted by Ellen and Dick Arnold, Rabbi Jamie’s parents. A wide ranging conversation which had as its focus the upcoming trip to Israel. Dick will be my roommate for the group part of the trip.

 

When we got back to Shadow Mountain, Vince was here mowing and weed whacking. In the rain. Vince is a good guy. Lucky to have him as my friend and property manager.

Tom and I were tired. We talked, then went to bed. Getting ready now for our trip this afternoon on the Royal Gorge Rail Road.

 

 

Hotel Shadow Mountain

Beltane and the Herme Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Mary. Ruth. Gabe. A bright Sun shiny Day. 72 today. Three dry days in a row. Sarah and BJ coming in later today. The World. Cultures other than our own. Day off yesterday from Ancientrails. BJ and Sarah. On their way to Driggs, Idaho. In the U-Haul. With loads of books. Great workout. Great chocolate. Father’s day present from BJ and Sarah. 83 yesterday! After a month and a half of Rain and cooler Weather. Overcast this morning. Cooler again. Robin and Spacewranglers. Rebecca. Herme work today. Chores.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

One brief shining: Oh, took Mary to the light rail in Lakewood in the morning on Sunday and the long way back through crowded Morrison and then the Bear Creek Canyon road which looks like a perfect setting for old fashioned Westerns, trying to find a place to eat breakfast but Sunday city tourists all over so passed through a crowded Kittredge and Evergeen back up the hill to Shadow Mountain Home and cracked open the frig because by that time hunger occupied my attention cooked ate napped and then began to wonder where BJ and Sarah were.

 

Charlie’s no-tel motel has shutdown for two days. Opening again on Thursday for a longer stay. Tom.

Here’s what happened. Mary misread her plane ticket as arriving at 11:59 am. Nope. pm. So she booked a hotel. Which told her when she arrived that they were overbooked. This very late at night. Obvy. They found another room for her, paid for a taxi and breakfast the next morning.

Ruth and Gabe had already planned to come up. Lucky. Because Mary’s hotel was not far from Galena Avenue where Ruth and Gabe live. On the second day of having her driver’s license Ruth picked up Mary and drove her up here. We all went out for breakfast at Primo’s and talked a lot. Ruth had to leave to make it back to work at Starbucks. She’s a barista now. Lots of positives with both Ruth and Gabe.

Mary and I spent the day talking. Catching up on her travels. Japan. Guru and Kuala Lumpur. Eau Claire. Her wonderful furnished apartment in an old factory.

Her trip to Indiana. All the cousin news. Age beginning to ravage the still close gaggle of Keaton cousins. Ikie Jones died a while back. The first cousin. Annette died this year, his youngest sister. Melinda, their remaining sibling now in a nursing home and refusing to eat. Lisa, the youngest Steffey of five, died also a few years back. A stroke. Her four siblings Kathy, Tanya, Carla, and Kenya all alive. Though Kathy couldn’t make the meetup in Muncie, Indiana due to arthritis. She’s the oldest of the five. Diane, the oldest of the Keaton sibs, was there on her used to be annual trip to Morristown for her school’s reunion and renewal of family/friend ties. Richard’s on the farm and Kristin is in Michigan. Both doing ok. Mary, Mark, and I round out the Keaton cousins. We’ve stayed in touch since childhood, sharing news and stories.

I don’t get back as often as Mary who has made heroic efforts to stay in touch with family, traveling thousands of  miles and crossing oceans each year to do so. Props to her. Due to the travel mix up her visit here was only Saturday.

 

BJ and Sarah had planned to make Denver around 1 pm on Sunday. Missed it by a couple of hours, then spent time loading Merton’s photographs into the U-Haul they’re taking turns driving from NYC to Driggs. In it is 90% of BJ and Schecky’s worldly belongings, mostly books. Huh. I know that routine.

We had a couple of snafu’s before we finally connected around 7 pm in the King Sooper’s parking lot. They left their truck there, Sarah bought some food, and we drove back to Shadow Mountain.

Sarah put together a salad, steamed asparagus, and set that out with some sushi rolls. A fine meal. We caught up on Johnson news. BJ and Sarah both saw me through the two weeks of Kate’s final hospitalization and death. She was their big sister.

The three of us went to the Conifer Cafe in the middle of the next morning for breakfast before they saddled up the U-Haul for the penultimate leg of their journey to Idaho. This is a big, big move for BJ and Schecky. They have lived in the same rent controlled rooms in the Beacon Hotel on Broadway since they were both students at Julliard. Well over 50 years. They’re letting go of the apartment and moving lock stock violin and cello to rural Idaho.

 

I drove back home to Shadow Mountain and took a nap.

 

Verdant

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Friday gratefuls: Mary on her way. Ruth getting her driver’s license. Coming up here tomorrow. Possibly bringing Mary. And Gabe. Cool, Rainy Nights continue. Mussar. God is Here. Monotheism. Boo. Animism and polytheism. Yay. Marilyn and Irv. Good friends. Ribeye steak. Potatoes. Mushrooms. Mixed Vegetables. Peaches. Verdant. The Mountains in June. Unusual and beautiful.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Green

One brief shining: When I look out my window to the back, I see wet Lodgepoles, red bark standing out against green Bunch Grass pocked with yellow Dandelions, Kate’s Lilacs growing taller, the gray white Aspen with its chartreuse Leaves, Rocky Soil damp with the Rains, but no Elk Bulls, no Mule Deer, an occasional Rabbit and Chipmunk.

 

In the eight and a half years I’ve been up here on Shadow Mountain the Mountains have never been so green. The Mountain Meadows have Grass in abundance, a buffet for our Wild Neighbors after a difficult, painful Winter. I’ve noticed for the first time that the chartreuse Leaves of the Aspen light up the Lodgepoles in Spring (or, Summer, not sure which is which) as they do in their gold clothing in the Fall. We’ve had cool, Rainy weather since late April. Not what other folks have experienced, I know. Glad for us though.

All the Mountain Streams would have diminished by this time in a normal June, yet they remain full. Not raging like they did at the end of May but still sending heavy amounts of Water over their Rocks and Falls. Flooding down the hill at several locations though not as bad as 2012.

 

I could, I know, spend the rest of my life following Mountain roads, visiting New Mexico, Utah and northern Arizona. There is so much to see so close to me. Places people come from all over the world to see. The many national parks in Utah, the four corners area, Rocky Mountain National Park, Mesa Verde, Chaco Canyon, Santa Fe, Taos, Dinosaur National Monument. Too many to point out. And perhaps I will spend a year focused on doing just that. But not this year. This year and at least part of the next I’m going overseas, seeing new parts of the World. Yay!

 

The travelers coming to Shadow Mountain Home have changed schedules. Mary will be here tomorrow in the morning. BJ and Sarah won’t arrive until Sunday at the earliest. Mary leaves Sunday morning. Ruth will pick up Mary from her hotel near the airport after her midnight arrival. Ruth has her driver’s license! She’ll be coming up in her car. Ivory, our old Rav4. Which has no air conditioning. A good year for her to get used to it. A new era has begun. Ruth can drive on her own.

 

Going over to Kittredge for breakfast with Alan. The Blackbird Cafe. In a place where an old favorite restaurant used to be. First time. Summer or its early Springlike equivalent makes driving so much easier up here. I need these times with my friends.

 

Travel

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Rabbi Jamie. Marilyn. MVP. Cool nights. Allergens. Yellow outlines on the puddles in my driveway. Alan. Rich. Ron. Susan. More rain. Green Valleys and Mountainsides, full Mountain Streams. Wild Neighbors. Home insurance. Jon Bailey who detailed the inside of Ruby. Vince, gutters and grass. Hayim Herring. Israel. Einav. The Sadot Hotel. Tel Aviv. Jerusalem. Israeli breakfasts. Korea. Osan. Seoul. Incheon. Busan. Gwangju. The Bliss. Travel. Roaming the World. Mother Earth.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rabbi Jamie

One brief shining: My travel genes have begun to chitter and chatter, getting excited, making preparations, excited about new and unfamiliar places, languages, food, remembering my first time in Siem Reap, Washington, D.C., Williamsburg, Bogota, Manta, Valparaiso, Hwarden, Inverness, Rome, Vienna, Singapore, Bangkok, Beijing and vibrating pulsing bringing color to my days.

 

Getting hotel spots locked down in Israel. Have folks identifying places to eat, don’t miss places in Jerusalem. Excited to see my son and his wife. Murdoch. Travel Korea. See Seoul. See the DMZ. Villages and towns. Maybe Jeju Island. I love to go as much as my brother and sister. Glad to get out and about like they have their whole lives.

Not sure what travel is for. Really. For me it’s always been at least about being a stranger, a neophyte, one out of place. Breaking myself out of the routine, the habituated. Realizing that there are so many ways to solve the puzzle of living a human life, to decide what ingredients go together for edible food, to design and build homes and buildings, to speak to each other. To govern and create law and order.

Also about leaving my home which I know so well and living in temporary spots, eating in different places, discovering odd bits of culture. I think here about a place Mary and I happened on in Singapore which sold transparent glass objects, many of them animals. All for gaining the best feng shui in your home or business. Backlit and, well, just strange. Or, when Kate and I visited, also in Singapore the two building, multi-story columbarium Nirvana. We got a tour. That small village off a busy Bangkok thoroughfare where the residents made the traditional monk’s begging bowl, each home specializing in one step of the elaborate process. Or that tartan mill in Inverness where our guide was the person who put the spools of yarn on a large wall of pegs. He had to remember the order in which to place the colors so the looms would produce the correct clan tartan. Or the several holer marble toilet off the main street of the ancient city of Ephesus.

I worry a bit about the climate change effects of air travel. Yet I’m also aware that I’m in this window of time at 76 where I’m healthy and able to get out of town and go faraway. This window won’t last. As we all know. I’ve also spent the last five years unable to travel due to sick dogs and Kate’s long illness. And it’s such a big world. Eh?

 

Still reading

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Alan. Irene. The dreamers: Bèrengér. Jane. Sarah. Susan. Bright Sunshine. Blue Sky. Jon Bailey, coming to detail my car. Tickets bought for Korea. Ode. Psilocybin. Marilyn. Her trip to Italy. Water. The Watercourse Way. Cool night. This ring I wear that Kate bought for me. Kate, her sweet memory. Tears. Ukraine. Biden. Trump and his indictments. May his clothing soon match his hair color. Deneen. Regime Change. God is Here. Consciousness.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Knowing how to read

One brief shining: The Alexandria Carnegie library had a ramp going down to the children’s library in the basement and on hot Summer days when I was young I would go there and walk slowly through the coolness of the ramp and its tall concrete walls imagining what adventures I would find once I pushed open the glass and wood doors that opened in to the stacks where I had already found The Silver Llama a wonderful tale of Peru and the high Andes, what other far away place awaited me.

 

Breakfast with Alan at the Bread Lounge. Picked up a loaf of multi-Grain Sourdough, sliced. Had to hurry back up the Mountain for the monthly meeting of the dreamers. Jane in England. Bèrengér in Germany. Sarah in Santa Fe. Susan in Half Moon Bay, California. Irene on Upper Bear Creek Road, Evergreen. All connected through the collective unconscious. Through night time signals from our inner world.

 

After, I read some. Bought tickets to Korea. Now I’m committed to visiting the same continent twice, though at points over 5,000 miles apart. 6,000 if you drove. A drive would be interesting, wouldn’t it?

Beginning to fantasize, prepare myself for travel. So look forward to seeing my son and his wife, their dog. Visiting Korea. Even the flight itself. Packing. Buying travel guides. Asking friends and taking advice from those who know the area.

 

Here are the threads. Know nothings. A book on this nativist movement in the 19th century is in the mail. Nativists. And, by definition, anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic. Secretive. When asked about their work, they would often answer, “I know nothing.” Anti other. The KKK. Secretive. Under the sheets. Anti other. The formerly enslaved, Jews, Catholics. The Birchers. Added anti-communism to the mix. Presented the movement with new tactics like front organizations, running for office at school board and city council levels, chapters across the nation, anti-democratic. They are a bridge between the Know Nothings, the KKK, and the new far right.  The new Far Right. Anti-immigrant. Nativist. Often dog whistle anti-semitism, black and brown racism. Anti-globalist. Implied by their nativism. Much more variegated. Christian nationalists. White supremacists. Militia and anti-gun control folks. The Bundy, sovereign citizen movements in the West. Posse Comitatus. Survivalists and preppers. Those yearning for the apocalypse. For some damned reason.

Deneen’s works Why Liberalism Failed and Regime Change attempt to provide a scholarly rationale for shoving aside classical liberalism and replacing it with some form of new ancien régime. An oxymoron IMHO. However his critiques of our current situation have bite. Recommending reading.

As Goya and Michelangelo reputedly said: I am still learning.

 

 

 

 

 

Silver threads

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Shirley waste. A solid workout, resistance & cardio. A weighted blanket. An electric shaver. Joe Pickett on TV. Mark’s new apartment. Psilocybin spores on the way. Reading the Rivers and Mountains poets of China. Finding my character. Cold Mountain. The Threshold ritual. Nights out. Booked flight to Israel. Oct. 25 thru Nov 10th. Excited. Getting some tips from a friend of Tom’s. Will probably buy Korea tickets this week or early next. On the road again.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Travel

One brief shining: Violet who served me breakfast said my hat and my shirt made a nice outfit which I assured her was totally coincidental she laughed as if that were not possible and I’d made an attempt at modesty later she looked at my book, Birchers, and asked me what genre was my favorite hers she offered was love stories if the book doesn’t make me cry I don’t like it.

 

Got hungry while writing, realized I had little I wanted in the house so I took myself to the Conifer Cafe. That’s three times including last Saturday. Unusual. Got to make a grocery order, get some breakfast variety available. Evening meals, I’m good.

Was gonna go to the synagogue last night for Richard Levine and Rabbi Jamie’s conversation about gun violence. Didn’t. No good reason except I didn’t want to drive to Evergreen or get home late. Late being 9:30 or 10. Acting class on Tuesday found me hitting the bed at 10:10. Don’t like that.

 

Finally cracked the code for booking my flight. Get in at midnight. Stay in Tel Aviv that night, then a taxi to the group hotel in Jerusalem the next day. A friend of Tom’s had recommended Eddie, a tour guide, but he’s booked. Not sure whether I need a guide or not, but he sounded worth exploring. Korea in late August will see me in the Far East. Israel the Near East. Asia is a big continent.

 

How bout those Nuggets? Jokic and Murray both with triple-doubles. I’m taking the Nuggets in 5. Next Grand Prix is in Canada.

 

I’ve been reading books like Fever in the Heartland, Why Liberalism Failed, Birchers, Christian Nationalism, Chosen Country: A Rebellion in the West so you don’t have to. Got Regime Change by Patrick Deneen in the mail yesterday. He also authored Why Liberalism Failed. Regime Change offers a road map to a post-liberal future. He says.

Not in my lifetime. He believes liberalism has two Satanic horns one Democrat and one Republican but still festooning the head of his fiery majesty and moving in unison when he thrusts his pitchfork. In brief he believes both Democrats and Republicans are classical liberal parties bent on expanding the amount of space each individual has for self-expression. Republicans work toward economic freedom and international markets while Democrats expand social realms like sexuality, racial engagement in the demos, and programs for the poor.

Deneen sees right through their often bitter electoral contests (academic x-ray vision) to focus on their mutual expansion of government as the guarantor of free markets here and abroad, human rights based on sexual and racial differences, leveling programs for those left behind economically.

I imagine if woke wasn’t already taken, he’d be saying Wake Up America.

There are many threads here. Beginning to come together. Later.

Worth the Journey

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Rains. The cool nights. The Spanish Grand Prix. Those Nuggleheads. Max Verstappen, a phenom. Royal Gorge Railroad. Another rail journey with Tom. Israel trip becoming complicated. A bit. The Great Sol breaking up the gray Sky with Light. Brother Mark photographing his time in Hafar. Looks like a Nebraska small town with sand and Muslim architecture. Oh, and Arabic. Travel. Korea. A busy June. Life’s picking up its pace for me. And, why not?

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cool nights

One brief shining: Tried to figure out a way to make Chicken tenders edible so I got out the tenderizer and smacked them a couple of times each, put a poultry brine in a gallon Ziploc and stuffed them in, let them sit in the fridge for a couple of days, put chorizo to cooking in my cast iron skillet, added the drained Chicken tenders and some cut up cooked potatoes, a short time for the Chicken tenders to heat through, then plated them with the potatoes and some collard greens.

 

Turned out well. The chorizo spiced up the bland Chicken tenders and the smacking and the brining plumped them up. Not overcooked, seasoned. A good meal.

Ate it while watching the second half of the Spanish Grand Prix. Max Verstappen drives to the front of the field from the pole, builds up enough of a lead to ensure that a pit stop won’t cost him his position and starts lapping the field. He makes it look so, so easy. Yet he’s so far in front of the best drivers in the world, the perfect union of man and Red Bull machine. Red Bull has won all of the Grand Prix’s so far this season, Sergio Perez has won two and Verstappen the rest. Dominance. It won’t last though. In a sport as demanding as Formula 1 it never does.

 

Looks like I may be in Israel on my own for five days before the group tour starts. I plan to fly in on October 27th, check in early to the group hotel. If a group trip to Petra happens before the trip, I’ll be on that, too. If not, more time to experience this ancient city. I love being on my own, wandering where I want, finding this and that, meeting locals, eating street food or in out of the way restaurants. This will be my first time in the Middle East, a place I studied extensively while in seminary and has been constantly present in my life since Joseph deployed to Bahrain, Mark started teaching in Saudi Arabia, and Kate and I joined CBE.

With me on this journey will be memories of New Testament stories like the Mount of Olives, the sites of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial and resurrection (The Church of the Holy Sepulcher), the garden of Gethsemane-that stained glass window in Alexandria First Methodist where my family sat all those years-as well as the Dome of the Rock where Muhammed landed after his night journey and then ascended to heaven. Jewish inflections too. The first temple site is coterminous with the Dome of the Rock. The wailing wall. The holocaust inspired push to create a contemporary homeland for the Jews. So much else of which I am ignorant.

Not to mention the crusades. A key focus of medieval piety. And early anti-Muslim bigotry. Lots of historical streams running this through this one spot on the globe.

Worth the journey.

 

Small Town Life

Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Mark deep in the sands of the Arabian Peninsula. Mary coming here on June 16th. Korea. My son’s new apartment. Huge. Working on details for Israel pre-tour. A gray Sky. An El Nino on its way. Better weather for us here in the Mountains. Acting class. My monologue. Hunting for restaurants in Jerusalem. Traveling. An Ellis family trait. Marina Harris. Ana. Furball Cleaning. Taking myself out for breakfast. Aspen Perks. Reading Birchers. Finished Fever in the Heartland. Reading One Thousand Nights and the Mahabarata. Took a break from Korean, back to it today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: This year in Jerusalem.

One brief shining moment: Gray skies put a shroud over Black Mountain and the bowed Branches of the Lodgepoles seem subdued this weather so different from June of years past when hot dry Winds raced across Shadow Mountain drying out the Grasses and the Needles of the Lodgepoles pushing Smokey the Bear to move his pointing paw into the high or extreme Fire danger positions now we Mountain dwellers can relax a bit as his paw remains where it has been since Winter-on low.

 

Taking a break here. Off to Aspen Perks with Birchers.

Met Murphy and Pete again. I slid into the booth with them. Murphy’s a South Carolina transplant as of four years ago. A handyman, but obviously well educated. He’s got a New England accent, slight, but as he said his wife reminds him he was lucky enough to marry a Southern gal. She’s a horse trainer currently back in South Carolina working with horses they still own. They sold their property but kept some horses. Near a little town just across from Augusta, Georgia in South Carolina.

Pete’s around my age, maybe a bit older. He’s a native Coloradan. Born in Denver. A happy right winger to Murphy’s gregarious lefty. Just before we got up to go I said my son was in the military. Pete had indicated he was, too. Yeah I said I was an anti-Vietnam war protester and my boy goes in the military. Pretty sure I saw Pete wince but he was headed up to pay and we were all leaving. Some stories remain fraught. Will have to have that conversation with Pete next time.

Nice to make a random connection up here. Like with Kat. Whom all three of us agreed is a top of the line waitress. She warned me, while they could hear, that these two are dangerous. Small town life.

 

Almost getting ready to spend real money on the Israel trip. I’ll go 6 days early. Explore Jerusalem on my own and take a before the tour starts trip to Petra with others who want that as a side journey. First step is an airline ticket. Then travel insurance. After that the two installments for the group tour.

 

Saw the new apartment near Osan. 4 bedrooms. Looks even bigger with little to no furniture in it. My daughter in law sent me a video. Murdoch followed her often showing up in the shots.

 

With Birchers and Fever in the Heart Land I’m beginning to get a great historical perspective on the odd and fraught political moment in which we find ourselves. A clear lesson is that there is no underestimating the darkness of the human heart when it fills with fear and narrows its intake valves.