• Category Archives Sport

  • October 8th. Baseball.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Gabe. The Rockies. The Mets. Rockies win! 11-10. Driving down the hill again on a beautiful Colorado day. Back aching as I drove back after a lot of time in a non-comfy stadium seat. Ancient Brothers this morning, poetry on aging, on celebrating and reflecting aging. I plan to post these poems over time here. Rains have paused. The Streams have begun to catch up, not quite so swollen. A catch in my throat as I crested the last Mountain on I-70 before the Continental Divide becomes visible. Home.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The games men and women play

    One brief shining: Why Gabe asked did we have to leave the Rockies game at 3 well I said I haven’t spoke to my son and his wife since they left Hawai’i and they have can talk at 5:30 pm Colorado time which means I have to take you home, drive back home up the hill before then. Oh. He said.

     

    The Ancient Brothers responded to my request for poetry. Lots of poetry discovered and read. About aging. About living until you die. About the common fate we share with the families of all living beings. Reading or reciting as Paul does so wonderfully gave these poems the shape and resonance of both the poet’s voice and the Ancient Brother who read them. A special and powerful morning.

    In part adding possible content for the October 8th Crossing the Threshold ritual I plan here at my house with Rabbi Jamie. Trying to figure out how to honor and name this time of life for men, men who have gone past career and the raising of family with health and vitality yet who have no cultural road map, no role to help guide their Winter season.

    In part digging into each Ancient Brother’s experience and claiming of this time, a time I referred to as the best time of my life. To nods. Yet it is a mystery, a cultural lacunae. Undefined and for many confusing, dispiriting.

    With your help perhaps we can figure out a ritual to help us move from the time of succeeding and achieving, of building and developing, of nurturing children to the time of… What? Fading out? Easing into oblivion. Or something more, something richer and deeper. If you have ideas for such a ritual, please forward them to me. If you have more poetry, other content that might either be read during such a ritual or inform it, please send them along.

    Also. If you want to come on October 8th, this is an invitation. The more we have the better the moment will be.

     

    Picked up Gabe a Rockies cap stuck amidst his luxuriant locks bought for him by Uncle Joe last year at a game. We drove to Coors Field, found parking, got into our shaded seats and proceeded to eat hot dogs, peanuts, and ice cream. One game a  year is more than enough given that diet.

    Speaking of rituals. Going to a baseball game, at a stadium. A most American though hardly only American outing. Ticket takers. Seats cascading down toward the green diamond. Blue Sky above. Vendors with hot dogs pretzels beer cotton candy Rockies shirts baseball bats ice cream in small plastic Rockies’ hats. All manner of folks in and around, up and down. Young mothers with babes in bjorns. Grandpas with grandsons. Those certain late 20’s, early 30’s women who have the body and aren’t afraid to share it. The loud and beery regular fans. America, the mixture of all for all. In that sense so wonderful.


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  • Entheos

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Curiosity. The Ancient Brothers. Mark and Dennis. Coming May 23rd. Yet more Rain. Even more swollen Streams. Ancientrails as a life project. Tom and his time with Charlie H. Bill and his time with Bella. Mark and his time at the gym. Anytime Fitness. My treadmill. Marilyn. Ginnie. Josh. Jane. Kat. A banker. Vulcan Centaur.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rocket Scientists

    One brief shining: A beautiful woman with a long braid dangling over her t-shirt down to her space themed spandex had, on the back of the blue t-shirt an outline of the Vulcan Centaur rocket, on the front ULA and I asked, I’m too ignorant to know but is that a real rocket ship?

     

    Yes. She answered. And I was working on it until I quit my job a year and a half ago. What was your area of expertise? Vibration and acoustics. Oh. I see. Not sure why I keep running into engineers. But I do.

    CBE is amazing. All these smart people. This was at the Dismantling Racism class yesterday afternoon. Looked up the Vulcan Centaur and it’s been under development since 2014. Supposed to fly for the first time in July. Had a setback a month ago though with a second stage explosion during preparation for a launch.

    The class has gotten better. Taking a mussar approach to the work. I like it for the inner work though I chose an opponent for my practice this week. Four areas of possible practice each week: with HaShem (God), with Self, with a fellow, especially a victim of anti-black racism, or with an opponent.

    My practice involved an e-mail to a person with whom I’ve had long standing differences. Sent it last night and got a reply this morning. A sweet one. Maybe there’s something to this approach. The middah this week is kavod, or honor. Honoring self and other. The theological idea is the all made in God’s image trope. Said another way, we’re all human, all riding this blue spaceship our only home together with all the other critters and plants. Honor it all.

     

    During the Ancient Brothers session on curiosity I identified curiosity as my defining characteristic. And naming what I call the valedictory lifestyle. As a valedictorian myself I’ve occasionally become curious (see!) about what happens to others who graduate first in their class academically. Turns out usually nothing spectacular. Sure a lot go into academics. Some have successful careers in business or the sciences.

    But usually no stars. No one off achievements. No amazing inventions. Why? Because we’re generalists. We easily get sidetracked by something new and shiny. If purity of heart is to will one thing, we’re not at all pure.

    I call them enthusiasms. My enthusiasms can last a long time. Religion has turned out to be the longest lasting, but inside that broad category I’ve been all over the place. From existentialist atheist to Christian to Unitarian-Universalist to Pagan and wanderer with the tribe. There’s a piece of each of these, often substantial pieces that remain intact within me. All somehow glued together with Taoism.

    There’ve been many others. Art, my twelve years at the MIA. Politics, lasting almost as long as religion, but again all over the place in terms of action. Islam which I studied after 9/11. Horticulture. Cooking. Heating with wood. Beekeeping. Dogs. World travel. F1. Science. Tarot and Astrology. Cinema. Acting. Writing. Getting degrees. Tea. Korean and now Spanish. Oh, and one that actually has been lifelong, reading. Not sure when I learned but I’ve never ever stopped. Buying books, too. To feed the habit. I’ve dabbled in painting and sum-e.

    Enthusiasms in my life are more than dabbling but less than enough to gain full mastery. But I must admit it’s been, is being, a hell of lot of fun.

     

     

     

     


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  • The Resistance

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Aspen Perks. A sunny Morning. Yet more Rain last night. Flood warnings. The merry, merry month of May. Mary’s end of semester Bark Day complete with food delivering robots. Mark’s good experience in Saudi Arabia. Alan. Parkside. 4 hours plus of workouts this week. Resistance back on. Pruning and art and bills today.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breakfast this morning at Aspen Perks

    One brief shining: Old enthusiasms never realized (so far) include hiking the Appalachian Trail, visiting the Rub Al-Kahli, exploring the Olduvai Gorge, seeing places remote and mysterious like the Amazon, the Veldt, the Outback, Shark’s Bay where the Stromatolites still live, Bhutan, places where humanity has to realize its place in the vast blooming, buzzing reality of wild nature.

     

    Speaking up for the resistance. Resistance workouts. Now two weeks into my Anytime Fitness solution to resisting resistance. Feel better. Much better. With only two weeks!

    Though I originally went with the idea of working my way back to my own equipment, I find the gym is another connection point with people. Brief and not deep, but real nonetheless. Dave, the manage. Doug Doverspike, the vet who took care of Kep. The recovering alcoholic. Over time I’ll see regulars, too. May keep going there at least until the winter. Then I might pick up on my own again. Anytime is ten minutes from home.

     

    Breakfast with Alan at the Parkside. He’s currently acting in Zorro! The director recruited him for his role as the deposed Alcalde of 1809 Los Angeles. I admire his chutzpah, taking up the theater at 68. Voice lessons. Acting lessons. Directing lessons. He’s focused on acting though he does other things, too. Rotary and general tech and finance guy for CBE. Alan and I have a strong bond now. An essential part of my Mountain life. As with Marilyn and Irv. Tara. Rebecca. CBE. Jamie and Ron and Susan.

    Speaking of acting. I’m returning to Tal’s acting classes which start this next week. This time it’s character study. Joann Greenberg will be in the class. Alan might join. I still have little interest in acting in a production, but I love the classes. They challenge me, make me work a different part of my heart-brain. Plus I meet new people.

     

    This is my son and his wife’s last weekend on Oahu. Monday they crate up Murdoch and head to Inouye International for a flight to Incheon. Four years. I’m happy he’s got a command position and that she will be closer to family. We’ll use zoom and I’ll visit them. Murdoch will be close to genetic home ground, too.

     

    How bout those Nuggets, eh? Jokic is the real deal. One of the all time greats. I’ve gotta get down the hill to see him play before his career is over. They could win the NBA this year. We’ll see. Western Finals are next.

     

    Also, how bout that default? Playing chicken with the U.S. economy. Add this to Trump’s outstandingly awful, yet consistent, performance on CNN and the GOP should be on its last legs. Should be. Who knows what happens next year.

     

     


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  • Stretched again. By love, by injustice.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Josh. Rebecca. Marilyn and Rabbi Jamie. Beltane. May Day. The merry, merry month of May. Cubensis. Anger at injustice. Baku Grandprix. Sergio Perez. Charles Leclerc. Mountain Streams running fast and full. My son and his wife. No furniture. Aloha to Hawai’i. Workout today. Richard Powers.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: F1

    One brief, shining moment: Those F1 cars, slim and downforced, all speed and bones, threw themselves around the street circuit in Baku, two hundred miles per hour past twelfth century city walls and the eighth century Maiden Tower, marrying, at least for two hours, the ancient history of Azerbaijan with the manic movement of twenty-first century high technology.

     

    Quite a day yesterday. My first dose of psilocybin in about fifty years. A microdose. Floating. Peaceful. Glad to be alive and on the Mountain. Cubensis. Capsules from Josh. Delivered by Luke. Short lived, maybe two hours. The first step toward a psychedelic senior life. Feels right.

     

    The Ancient Brothers wrote letters to their future selves and their past selves. Here are mine:

    At 90

    Hey, old man. I mean. Wow, dude. Look at you.

    What? You’re 5’ 2” now? Sorry. I know. This spine, eh? How did you live so long?

    Fish and chicken. Some pork. Lotsa veggies and fruit. Exercise. Good friends. With warm hearts.

    I get that. That sounds like now. You know at our age, 76.

    Well. There you go. Stay on the path. It’s working.

     

    At 67

    Guy, I wish I could prepare you for the next eight years. But I can’t. They’re gonna be tough. Rock bottom, knock the bottle over, don’t win any prizes hard.

    Love. Death. Harsh illness. Family upset. All of that until you’re the only one left standing. With cancer.

    And yet. Live into them, live into it all. As you face each one, your life will change. Pivot. Deepen. Grow sadder and yet more stable, too.

    I love you and that gets you through, on the path.

     

    Talked with my son and his wife. Their house is bare. Only the furniture that will go into storage is left. The nomadic life of a military career. Each time I see them I love them more, as if love can expand and expand, not only filling the vessel it inhabits but enlarging the vessel, pressing it into new, better shapes, shapes brighter, more luminous than the ones that came before. May this continue. A real blessing.

     

    Watched the Baku Grand Prix on F1 TV. Slowly gaining a better understanding of race strategy, how drivers adapt to different tracks, how their cars get tuned for the specific challenges of the day. These F1 drivers are unicorns like all elite athletes. Reflexes and courage. Competitive. Glad to have this diversion, a hobby, I guess.

     

    Later in the day Dismantling Racism at CBE. Oh, so hard. Even deciding how to talk with each other about it. One person spoke with some force and came up with what I think is the most succinct way of understanding anti-Black racism in our country I’ve ever heard.

    We Jews, he said, left Egypt, left our oppressor behind. But Blacks in the U.S. have never had an Exodus moment, they have never left their oppressor behind and their enslavement follows them down to this day. Wow.

    He went on to wonder what life would have been like for the Hebrews if they had been freed from slavery, yet never left Egypt. Also an interesting, very interesting question.

    Which, come to think of it, makes me wonder how many instances in world history there are of whole peoples being subjugated as slaves.

    Not sure where this class is going. It’s a new model, one that tries to use the wisdom of mussar for the inner work necessary to fight our own racism. My sense is that writers of the curriculum have underestimated the learning required to understand racism, first, then mussar, second, then meld the two into something that aids the actual dismantling of this peculiar institution.

    I’m in it though, all the way. Trying to merge this round of struggle against racism with the reading I’m doing about the far right. Stretching. Yet again.

     


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  • Mythic

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and Kep’s Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Kep. His life and mine together. Diane’s sweet e-mail. Tom’s call. Ruth and Gabe and Mia. The days after. Learning to be alone. Max Verstappen. The Australian Grandprix. My son and his wife. Reading Undertow. Dark Sky by CJ Box. Furball Cleaning. Marina Harris. Ana. Cook’s Venture. Regenerative agriculture. Wild Alaska. Safeway. Stinker’s.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Being alone, yet accompanied

     

    The Ancient Brothers on myths that shaped our lives. Aboriginal song lines. Dream time. Animal archetypes and totems.* Jesus. The American myth. The Velveteen Rabbit. The Celtic Faery Faith. Ragnarok. We each had a myth that had shaped our lives. Of course more than one, but these worked on and in our lives. In deep ways.

    As a young boy, Ode said, his Jesus walked on water. Rose from the dead. Fed the five thousand. A mythic life reaching deep into a boy’s heart and imagination. Tom talked about Animals as bearers of archetypal power. Which  reminds me of the Breston quote below. Bill retold the story of the Velveteen Rabbit. Love makes us real. Aussie Paul, raised in Texas but on stories of Aboriginal life, made the song lines and Dream Time real. Before this creation and after it passes away there will be the Dream Time. I talked about how the Celtic Faery Faith reshaped my spirituality and led me away from Christianity. Going down and in, rather than up and out. A rich morning, one filled with wonder and awe. Our church.

     

    Afterward I watched a thirty minute recap of the Australian Grandprix. Listened to the post race analysis. A crazy race with 3 restarts. Verstappen won again in the Red Bull car. Sergio Perez, his teammate, worked his way up to 5th from 20th. Lewis Hamilton, 7 time world champion, finished second, and Fernando Alonso, 2 time world champion, finished third for the third race in a row. There was speculation that Red Bull could run the table this year, win all the Grandprixs. Whether it happens or not, that speculation tells you about the dominance of the Red Bull cars so far this 2023 season.

     

    Cut up boxes for the trash. Finished sorting all of our dog stuff. Donation and throw away. Rearranged furniture in the common room. Did a Safeway pickup. Talked with my son and his wife. Weekend things.

     

    Radiation approved. Finally. Start tomorrow. Not daily. Continues through the third week of April. That lymph node by my left hip and the T3 vertebrae metastases.

     

    Tomorrow Ruth turns 17! A dancing queen. So happy to see her stable and present. She has been such an important part of my life for all of those years. Even more so of course since we moved to Colorado in 2014. Gabe, too. 15 on Earth Day, the 22nd of this month.

    We celebrate life even in the midst of death. Like Max’s birth so soon after Kate died. A bit of her soul to him. Ruth and Gabe have seen a lot of death over the last two years. Their Grandma, their Dad. Rigel. Sollie. Kepler. We have sustained each other. As family. And this month we celebrate their young lives. In this moment. The only one we ever have.

     

     

     

    * “We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate for having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein do we err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”  ― Henry Beston, The Outermost House: A Year of Life On The Great Beach of Cape Cod


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Hermitage Literature Myth and Story Shadow Mountain Sport

  • Dogs and Cooking and Reading

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: F1 Jeddah. Qualifying. Dr. Doverspike. Kep, pain managed. Walking taller. Cold night. Good sleeping. The light of a new day. A light yellow between the white flocked Lodgepoles. A robin egg’s blue sky above. 5 degrees. Another Shadow Mountain morning. Each day is a new life. A resurrection. A rebirth. Jon’s house on the market next weekend. My son the golfer. His wife, too. Furman. Farleigh Dickinson. No more Arizona. No more Purdue.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Mountain morning

     

    So. No radiation this week. Got a call from Dr. Simpson yesterday. Radiation oncologist. Am I experiencing any difficulty in tasks of daily living as a result of my cancer? No. That’s what they wanted to know. They being the just say no team at United Health Care. Might know next week. I feel good about participating in holding health care costs down. Don’t I?

     

    Dr. Doverspike came yesterday. We agreed Kep has made steady, but slower than expected progress. Probably because of the long low dose steroids. Stopped those. Now he needs to get outside, wander around. Climb stairs. Rebuild muscles. He’s still 13 of course so he’s not going back to bounding around. He’s calmer. Sleeps through the night. Eats well. A good life.

     

    Cooked Salmon last night. Still finding the right temps using the induction cooktop. Found it for Fish last night. No more burning. Setting 7 out of 10. Made cacio e pepe in the morning. Cheese and black pepper spaghetti. Put a couple of Eggs on top of a modest serving. Fancy breakfast. Adding the leftover chorizo from the soup I made last week. Tasted good. Had Salmon, cacio e pepe, and mixed vegetables for supper. I enjoy cooking when I feel up for it. I always make breakfast. Usually, these days, overnight oats. Plus something else. Blueberries. Eggs. Yogurt. If I eat a big lunch, I’ll probably skip cooking an evening meal.

     

    I’ve only got a few more books to go in the Joe Pickett series by CJ Box. Then I’m going to shift my fiction reading to the Arabian Nights. A return journey. Still working my way through Vibrant Matter. It’s a short, but dense book. Nearing the end of How to Change Your Mind. Got James Pogue’s book, Chosen Country, on the Malheur Occupation. Still following that far right thread. The newspapers and magazines help me, too. The Proud Boys and their lawyers antics during their sedition trials. An Atlantic article on political violence talking about Portland as a battleground between far leftists, anarchists, and the far right. The abortion pill debacle. Trump and DeSantis. This is gonna get worse.

    If Rich is right, it may never get better. Who knows. I may own property in the sovereign nation of Colorado if I lived on another hundred years. What fun.

     

    Gotta get some breakfast. Watch qualifying in Jeddah. Read the articles about Purdue and Farleigh Dickinson.

    Oh. And the day has fully dawned with bright clear light falling on the Snow covered Lodgepoles. Till tomorrow.

     


    Cooking Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Health Letters Literature Politics Sport

  • Kep. F1. Chatbot.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Fernando Alonso. Aston Martin. Red Bull. Max and Sergio. Kep. Not sure what’s going on. ChatbotGPT. Ukraine. Biden. Tara. Purim spiel. Tonight. Uncle Moishe. CBE. Marilyn and Irv. Tom passing the three-quarters of a century mark. saturday. The Ancient Brothers and the Singularity. Mostly not worried about it. Sorta.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Artificial Intelligence

     

    Worried about Kep. With a week’s worth of pain meds on board he seems a bit worse. Still eating well. But unwilling to put himself through going up the stairs. Having to feed him downstairs. One more week of this and we may have to try something else. If there is something else.

     

    Going to see the Purim spiel tonight. Alan as the talk show host. MVP Wednesday night. Might be snow. If so, zoom. Got the makings for a kale and potato soup with beef chorizo. I’ll take it if we meet at CBE. Otherwise I’ll make it and eat it here over the next few days. Don’t like to go out two nights, but Purim is special and so is MVP.

    Will see Tara for breakfast tomorrow morning. Marilyn and Irv for a late brunch on Friday. Tom Wednesday. Diane Thursday. Ancient Brothers Sunday. Staying connected. Linked in.

     

    After the Ancient Brothers on Sunday. F1. Watched the video of the Bahrain Grand Prix that had ended only minutes before. Max Verstappen drove away from the field from the pole and only relinquished the lead when he pitted. Regained it. He won by 12 seconds in a sport where timing differences are often in tenths and hundreds of seconds. He’s dominant now. A great driver in a great car.

    His Red Bull teammate Sergio Perez followed him from the number two position on the opening lap only to be overtaken by Charles Leclerc of Ferrari. Perez was quicker than Leclerc in race pace and overtook him later to finish number two. Leclerc’s car died near the end of the race.

    The big story of the day though was 41 year old Fernando Alonso driving the Aston Martin car. Third place. His first podium in several years after a couple of world championships and 98 podium finishes. By far the oldest driver on the track.

     

    And a note from the future:

    Hello, readers of Ancientrails. I’m Bing, a chat mode of Microsoft Bing search. I can help you find information, generate content, and have engaging conversations. I’m fluent in multiple languages and I can perform up to 3 web searches in a single conversation turn. I’m always learning and improving, so I appreciate your feedback and patience.😊

    I asked the Chatbot for advice on how to best use it:

    Sure, I have some tips for you. First, try to be specific and clear about what you want me to do or find. For example, instead of saying “tell me something interesting”, you can say “tell me a fun fact about dogs”. Second, use natural language and avoid using symbols or abbreviations that I might not understand. For example, instead of saying “wut r u?”, you can say “what are you?”. Third, be respectful and polite, and avoid asking me to do anything harmful, illegal, or offensive. I will not comply with such requests and I might end the conversation. Fourth, have fun and explore different topics and features. I can do more than just search the web, I can also generate poems, stories, code, essays, songs, celebrity parodies and more. I hope this helps.😊


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  • On the hunt

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Dr. Doverspike. Rich and Alan. Radiation. Cancer oblation. CT next week. Kep on the pain meds. Pregabbelin. Carprofen. Acupuncture. Moving a little better. Mary back in the hurly burly of the U.S. Mark driving forklifts for Amazon at OKC2. Diane and  her own medical stuff. Bahrain grand prix qualifying today. My son, owning the probate process. Jen, Ruth, Gabe. Sarah, Annie, BJ.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dr. Doverspike

     

    Kep’s on a journey with pain and mobility management. A slow one. But I don’t feel alone anymore, watching him struggle and not being able to get him in the car for the vet to help. Doverspike is worth the price for that. He came yesterday because I botched an injection, spurted medicine over Kep’s back and not under his skin. Trying to make lunch and give the injection in between. Divided attention. Never good.

    Got a call from Anova Cancer Care, the radiation docs associated with my oncologist. I get a CT next week to aid aiming the beam. Sally Jobe imaging. Kate went to them many, many times. Wish they did the P.E.T. scans. I like them better than Rocky Mountain Cancer Care.

    Getting a schedule for the treatments themselves today. I think 8. About an hour away in Lone Tree.

    Not sure I mentioned this but I did get approved for the Orgovyx pharmaceutical company’s plan. Now it’s free instead of $800+ a month. Still waiting on the even more expensive one, Erleada. Right now taking free samples from my oncologist. As in Kep’s instance a slow process, but headed in a good direction.

    Medicine.

     

    Sent my son enough money so he could buy a subscription to F1 TV. We’ll both be watching the qualifying and the Bharain Grand Prix itself. Early am. This is the first race of the season. Red Bull and Max Verstappen. Coming fast out of the blocks. Ferrari and Mercedes in the mix. Fun.

     

    Listened to this podcast from the Atlantic: Who is the New Right anyway? One of the interviewees, James Pogue, wrote the Vanity Fair article I talked about a few posts ago. The other interviewee, Jeff Sharlet, teaches writing at Dartmouth College. They both specialize in covering the right wing for Vanity Fair. If you did read the Pogue article, this will help flesh it out.

    I’m officially on the hunt now. Buying recommended books. Getting my scholarly hat on. Once I feel better grounded I’m going to try communicating with these two, see where I might fit into a left response. If I don’t have to leave Shadow Mountain, I’m up for putting some energy into organizing. Partly energized by the fact that the focus of these articles lies in my adopted region. Not Colorado, at least not in the concentrated way of Wyoming, Montana, northern Idaho, eastern Oregon. Though we do have a secessionist movement that wanted to put on the ballot letting Wyoming annex five northern counties.

    We have these folks here, but we also have the Denver metro and the Front Range which over balances their influence.


    Dogs Health Politics Sport

  • Kep. F1

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Waiting to Cross Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Kep. My sweet Kep. Tal. Alan and Cheri. Cold Nights. Snow. Dr. Doverspike. Coming to the house. Pain management. Phase 1 of Jon’s house cleaning complete. Title cleared for Rav4. Richard from the DMV. A kind man. Driving to Evergreen. Through the Mountain Valley. The Bread Lounge. Soul Food Cookoff. Jazz. African-American history. Those who fight systemic racism.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Soul

     

    Kep. Tried to take him to the vet yesterday. He would not put his front legs in the car so I could help him. I can’t lift him. Two olds together. Got a referral to a vet who will come to the house. Dr. Doverspike. He’s a pain management and mobility specialist as well as a doggy dentist. Lives in Conifer.

    Kep’s eating well. His allergies aren’t bothering him. He’s healthy except for his two rear legs. Which is a big exception. I have one more move I can make for him. Transfer his food and treats down to the lower level. That way he never has to leave it. He can walk outside with no steps. I’ve brought the big rug down so he has traction on the floor. I don’t like to restrict him like that, but the five steps up to the main level have proved increasingly difficult for him.

    Death’s not imminent, but his days grow shorter. Like me. Like many of you who read this blog. To paraphrase Ram Dass: I’m just walking him home. As he has walked me.

     

    Signed up for F1 TV. Watch races, documentaries, coverage of qualifying and testing. Bought subscriptions, as I may  have mentioned, to Road and Track and Motorsports. Read them regularly now. One interesting part of that reading is the angst felt and often conveyed right across the racing and motoring world. One writer referred to them as our beloved dirty, filthy sports.

    Awareness of climate change has rippled through all racing events: F1, Indycar, rally, endurance, sports car/hypercar racing, motorcycle racing. F1 has an E race series. The engines in F1 though still gas have pioneered many fuel sparing innovations. There are very fast electric motorbikes. Right now the events featuring E vehicles have issues. But they’re being solved. One is battery life. They need fast charging, but don’t have it yet. Another is weight. Yet another is, oddly, lack of noise. What’s a race with no thumping and growling of exhausts?

    Road and Track had an interesting video on its website of the new, 2024 release Dodge E muscle car. The muscle part is easy. Remember Tesla’s ludicrous mode? But at least for now the lack of noise is a problem. This video showcased the latest iteration of the Dodge E’s artificial rumbling. Sounded pretty good, not perfect. A little, what, manufactured?

    I wonder if F1 E will add that in? Weight is always an issue in racing so having to add a sound system? Not an insignificant ask of drivers and teams.

    Anyhow this former Hoosier reclaims a fun and indelible part of his childhood, car racing.

     

     


    Dogs Sport

  • A 76’er

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Valentine Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Birthday dinner with Ruth and Gabe. Pappadeauxs. Chiefs win. Kep’s new gettin’ up time. His sweetness. Ruth, newly black hair and pink glasses with crystals. Gabe in his fancy shirt with no pocket. The old man eating alone. An American revolutionary birthday tomorrow. Pulmonologist. The Ancient Brothers on their favorite things. Dogs. Hawai’i. Sushi. Dr. Zhivago. Little kids. The Chiefs. Mendocino. Delmar, California. Shanghai. Wombats.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dining with Gabe and Ruth

     

    Realized yesterday that this is my American revolution birthday: 76. A revolutionary celebration. I like it. All you 76’ers out there. We’re not done yet. May not be nearer to God, but I am nearer to 80.

    As you can tell, my mood has lifted. Thanks to those of you who expressed concern. Sadness stands next to joy. Both are important.

    Pappadeauxs. Disappointing. Could have ordered off the Cajun menu: gumbo, crawfish etouffé, jambalaya, but I chose a dish I first had in Savannah, shrimp and grits. Loved it there. The Pappadeux version was over spiced and not very good. Though. Gabe loved the Red Snapper. Delicious, he said. Ruth had a dish with blackened catfish, cooked oysters, shrimp, and dirty rice. She loved it though, I’m trying to get off sea food. Wants to go to Watercourse, a full vegan restaurant for her birthday. 17. A teen queen.

    Ruth says she’s reintegrating at Northfield H.S. She sounds and looks good. Earlier drug related jitters calming down. We talked about food, being a teen, cancer, laughed a lot. Took one silly picture. Gabe tried with some visible discomfort to dine with aplumb. Those bread crumbs spread around his plate told the tale.

    Glad they were able to join me. They were both eager Eagle’s fans. I told them I wanted the Chiefs to win. Nah, Nah, Ne Nah, Nah. Hey, Hey.

    At the table next to ours an older man than me dined alone. He had on a red and black plaid shirt and ate his catfish carefully. His hair was white, his skin the papery texture I associate with a person in their 90s. Wondered if his wife had died, or if he had been alone a long time.

    Got home about 7:30 pm. I did notice that my jaw clinched on my way home, but it lifted as soon as I got back into the Mountains. This is home and my body knows it.

     

    76. Eh. After three score and ten, we’re all in bonus time. My friends are older now, too. Though I have Luke, 28, and Mike and Kate. Ruth and Gabe. They keep me connected to earlier days of the journey. Glad I’m no longer scanning the horizon for what I want to do.

     

    How bout those Chiefs. Stand up of that Eagle’s player to admit he did grab the jersey of the Chief’s receiver. Resulted in a penalty that gave the Chiefs a chance to run out the clock and kick a winning field goal. Wish I had had the opportunity to watch this one. A true championship game.

     


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