How much, America?

    The scene just might be the most loathsome and repugnant ever to occur in the Oval office.

     American heroes Michael Collins and Buzz Aldrin, the surviving Apollo 11 crew, captured in the tempest as the rogue president walks back his walk back. 

     Those two brave men, who participated in one of humankind's great achievements, both of them now chasing 90 years, were miserably uncomfortable and needlessly and senselessly became chattel and collateral damage. It should never have happened.

      America and history owes them an apology for needing to endure the fetid drama that envelopes the deranged president. 

     Collins and Aldrin represent America at its best. The occupant of the White House, already considered the worst, simply corrupts and destroys. He had no business being in the presence of Collins and Aldrin. It would be a good thing if someone in leadership and authority issued an apology on behalf of the vast majority of US Citizens and the people of the world who see the president for what he is and who despise him and his behavior.

of that behavior....

      To my mind, one of the best uses of recording was the play back of the smug mugging he did, as his racist and nazi like mob broke forth in their hateful and truly anti American chant. There he was, looking left and looking right and smugly puckering as the hate crime went on for 13 seconds.

     Despite his weltering, all the world could see the lie.

not about politics or policy

     His mental illness makes him a danger in high office. Those who support him, pose a danger. Their combined lack of civility pose a danger. His and their racism pose a danger. His chronic deception makes him a danger. His stunted intellect makes him dangerous in high office. He has always been a cheat, liar, sexual predator, and arrogant. The sycophantic behavior of the bogus republicans is also a danger. It is enabling behavior.

     He is a clear and present danger. Heaven knows we are exhausted and frustrated as a nation. And we are divided: those who understand the danger and those who are the danger.

a meme to share

a moment of beauty

   Yet another magnificent orchid cactus bloom. Thanks for enduring another post about you know who. The world doesn't need another opinion, but some things need saying. 

And someday I want my daughters and grand children to understand, some of us did what we could to slake the evil of hatred, bigotry, prejudice, ethnocentrism and the destruction of civility and honor, to say nothing of the devastation of our environment. 

    See you down the trail.  

      

     

     

A Kid Like Ja-A Man Like Mueller-Stars in the Rites of Spring

   It's the spring of 2019 when our fancy turns to Big Dances and Big Probes and media palaver--but there are clouds on the horizon

and there are secrets! Will America be allowed to peer into the secret web of intrigue and investigation

  and learn what the Mueller probe learned? Will the grand galloomps of the administration and the republicans of the Senate

(A facsimile of the DOJ gallops and the McConnell Senate Republicans)

   allow their paymasters and employers (that would be US citizens) to learn what Mueller has learned? Well that brings us to the RIGHTS OF SPRING.

   The old birds are clattering...

   and chattering and the bets are on.

    A safe prediction from your old blogger-it's going to be another fight, another circus, another chapter of America in decline, America yelling, America divided. 

    Democrats will ask for full disclosure, Republicans will resist. The President will blather and tweet and lie. The House will continue their investigations, Federal prosecutors will continue their prosecutions and investigations. There will be legal challenges and court filings and hearings and this thing could go on for, dare I say it-years!

    We have primal forces at work here...like

   sea against rock, wind against sea, power versus power,

   infinite force against eternal existence. 

       Unlike nature, these human struggles devolve to aberrant behavior; deceptions, tricks, deceits, fraud, larceny, and abuse of power. 

      Greed, avarice, and venality have never been far from "individual 1." Diligence, devotion, public service, sacrifice and intelligence have never been far from Mr Mueller. 

      The substance of the two-year investigation will come out. This is the US, with whistleblowers, leakers, people of conscience, investigative reporters, packs of competitive journalists and a citizenry for whom all of this was done.

    Who are you betting on? Which team do you find yourself rooting for?

well...

     Presently I'm rooting for my bracket picks and celebrating another Cinderella story. This is the time of year the of NCAA championships where there is always a peoples favorite, a human interest story, the little Davids taking on the Giant Goliaths, the valiant struggle of appealing characters striving against great odds. Stars emerge and shine. We find new heroes. We cheer and we cry with the heartbroken warriors who leave the court denied a dream. This too is the Right Rite of Spring. 

     I thank Mr Mueller for the decorum, diligence, dignity and scrutiny he brought to that other arena. Smart people will continue his work. But right now I'm on my feet, cheering and fist pumping for a kid named Ja. And for all the kids who play their hearts out. It's good there are still champions, good to be reminded we play the game by the rules, good to know that in the end when history posts the scores, cheaters loose, and liars get busted. And it is reassuring to see people being good sports both in loosing and in victory.

    See you down the trail.

      

      

       

IN A TIME OF HEROES

SHAPE AND TEXTURE

A few scenes from around the house, including a lemon tree next to Indiana-
the raised bed of flat tillable soil on the hill side.
HEROES

    Are there enough heroes? Can kids find the real thing when the big screen rocks with fantasy creations and while game screens spew violent destroyers? Do they still matter?

      Here is an account of a down to earth superhero and inspiration. His name is Bud Goff. He's not a hulk, probably even a little shorter than average. He's got gray hair but his eyes sparkle with life. A smile is his normal visage. If you've been to the Farmer's Market in Cambria you've probably seen this hero, directing traffic and conversing with everyone driving in while he hands out sweet treats. He's human sunshine that way.

     For many years he's played a major role in the annual community festival, Pinedorado. He plans, he buys, he schedules, he lifts, he works and he's there.

     I see Bud in a different light, in fact in the early light of dawn every Thursday morning on the tennis court. Fog, cold, glaring sun peaking over the mountain, heat, no matter the weather or conditions he's the first at the court and waiting for the foursome to arrive. 

     He's a lefty and he's got a serve that can break right at you, or away from you in an exasperating bounce. He's fast, dashing from near the baseline for a volley at the net, or moving to get a shot breaking to the alley. At the net, Bud is one of the most tenacious and proficient I've seen. It's near impossible to score on him, but he can put away passing and cross court shots you can't get to. He's got a drop shot that can kill you. He has coached and still offers advice.

     Despite his considerable tennis skills, Bud just delights in being on the court and out in the morning. He'll notice hawks soaring, or the geometry of contrails, or notice the loping of calves on the grazing slope behind the court. No matter how close the match, or good or bad the play, Bud's incantation is "We're just out here having fun you know!"

      Between games he'll tell us about something new he's read, an oddity he's heard about, show us a new phone or tell us a joke. Just two weeks ago he gave us a demonstration of a new way to tie shoes!

      As we were heading out to the court this morning he asked, "Who do you think is the oldest person to play on these courts?" Jim and Ellie and I offered well it could have been Ed Simonsen, he played until he was 91.

      "Well…," Bud paused

      That's when Jim said "You just had a birthday!"

       "Yea, I'm 92."

       We all gave him a fist bump, wished him a happy birthday. He went out and started driving that left handed liner of a serve.

        In my book, Bud is a real hero, and an inspiration!

        Who are your heroes?

       See you down the trail.

      

       

INSTEAD OF THE POLITICIANS OR STARS AND LOOKING UP

CELEBRATE THE GENIUS

     In a "better" world, our media would find better fodder, especially in the personalities we see, read and hear about.

     Maybe instead of rum-dum politicians, show business luminaries and rich athletes we could read about geniuses.

    Today, that "better" scenario exists-the Geniuses are here, celebrated and even compensated. Here is your link to real greatness-THIS YEARS MacARTHUR FOUNDATION FELLOWS. 

      Usually the Fellows are surprised or stunned by the award and this year is no different.

       This Washington Post piece captures that element.

     This LA Times story profiles a Cal Tech brain researcher

breaking new ground.

       This years class of fellows will each receive $650 thousand for their contributions to life on this planet. In their own field and in their own way they are heroes and the best of us.

LOOKING UP

    For some curious reason, curious because I'm not sure what is the motivation, I've been looking for shots that require a quick look up. Thus....

     See you down the trail.

THE HEROES

REMEMBERING

     My father, Karl, was what they called a Top Kick, a Sergeant Major when he began his tour of duty in the South Pacific during WWII. He's the man in the middle.  On this day when we remember those who are gone and honor those who sacrificed I've been thinking about dad and how he never wanted to talk of his war experiences.

      He was more candid about his time as a Drill Instructor, especially as he meted out "training" and discipline to my brother and me. It wasn't until he was dying that he spoke of some of what he did and saw in the theater of combat.

   He was part of an effort that took heavy losses and

engaged in tough jungle war fare.  This is an article that reached home, dispatched by the Army communications office.

    Toward the end of his duty in New Guinea and the islands of the south Pacific he was made a Chief Warrant Officer.  He always said it was an inducement to stay in the Army and go to Officer's Candidate School, though in those days the designation was ordered by either the Secretary of the Army or the President and went to men with particular skills  and talents.  

    After he returned home, he continued to work for a special branch of the government.  He was coy and tight lipped, but It was a type of investigative agency. I have memories of his colleagues, "uncles", late night visits, meetings in old box cars and odd coming and goings.  

   One of the keep sakes in his Army locker was this autographed copy of a playbill. He always maintained a sense of camaraderie and concern for those with whom he served.

   I remember visiting the Ernie Pyle memorial at the Pyle Post of the VFW in Indianapolis.  Dad, in the middle, was active in the organization in the early days.  It was during this part of my early kid hood that he and my mom encouraged me to read Pyle's work and that of other war correspondents and journalists. From Indiana, Pyle was killed as he covered the war. Pyle's work and the memorial to him had a remarkable impact on me.  

    My dad and I were always friends, even during the teen years. There never was a "generation gap" in our home.

     I respected his political leanings, he was an active participant in election campaigns as a manager or strategist, never as a candidate.  

     During the Viet Nam era, he cared about the well being of the troops and often was critical of politicians willing to commit young men and women to war.

      He had a great sense of justice and was a true patriot. I continue to miss him. He remains my hero. So this evening I will lift a glass to Karl and the men and women like him, who served. And I will toast some of those "uncles," those who also served, though not always in uniform. Indeed we are in debt to many.

WALKING THE BLUFF

A FAMILY AT THE BEACH

  See you down the trail.