TREASURES DESTROYED & THE REAL DEAL

IDIOTS OF THE PERNICIOUS SORT

    A New York Times piece by Felicity Barringer got my blood boiling.  She detailed the work of vandals in National Parks, Monuments and other priceless settings. Perhaps before we knew better we carved our initials in a tree or on an old log. While it may have been a bit destructive, it is nothing like the senseless or stupid desecration of wilderness done by spray painting or cutting, or malicious damage. Shame on the idiots and their friends or family who condone it.  

      Warning!  If I see you up to this pernicious behavior, you will be confronted.  A couple of years ago, in the height of fire season, I saw an Hawaiian shirt bedecked German tourist wandering off the path, despite warning signs, collecting pine cones, despite prohibition warnings, his hands and arms full while a cigarette dangled from his lip. Though I speak no German, he understood my castigation, the look on his face revealed that.  Impishly I smile a bit about that fool's wandering from the path in his shorts and flip flops as he waded through a healthy patch of poison oak!

THE REAL DEAL IN MORRO BAY

     Authentic California fishing village scenes still play out in Morro Bay.

   Fewer boats operate out of the town, landmarked by the Morro Rock, than when we first wandered into the water front for a supply of fresh sea food many years ago.

  But it is still an operating fishing port and I'm fascinated by the work and activity there.

  Tourists who flock to the embarcadero as well as locals have some great choices for fresh sea food and dining. Giovanni's and Tognazzini's are both sure bets.

   On an ancient trip up the coast, when we were still mid-westerners, I thought the "stacks" at the power plant were a blight on the sea front.  Now that we've been out here for several years, we've adopted the attitude of most of the locals and natives, they are part of the land and sea scape-a kind of marker on the coast.

  See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER-WILD

A TALE OF TWO WILDS

     A couple of viewing experiences for you this weekend, both occurring just a couple of hours from each other.

     One for meditation, the other for motivation, sort of.

the exquisite peace of Big Sur

the wildest ride ever in San Francisco

       have great weekend.  See you down the trail.

TAX PAYERS REVOLTED & SHAPES

WHO'S IN CHARGE

     At the edge of historic recession, millions unemployed or working poor and the IRS entertains itself for million$!

     Growls from the right, left and the apathetic.What prevents better governance and accountability? How can a judgement be rendered to let the tax man party away millions? No one thought of perception?!

      It is a perfect storm.  Bureaucracy, civil service, politicians and no accountability.  

      Where are the adults? Should we be in the streets?

SHAPES

garden compositions

    See you down the trail.

A GAY SLUR? AND GETTING AWAY FROM PEOPLE

WORDS

CUTTING BOTH WAYS

     Teaching us diplomacy and providing a way to keep us out of continual scrapes, fights and altercations, mom taught us the childhood adage

      "sticks and stones may break my bones-

       but words will never hurt me."

     How I wish that were still true.  Maybe it would be if only we all lived that reality.  But words have power and the meaning can hurt.

      An NBA star is in trouble and has been fined for something he said.  The phrase "no homo" derives from a black idiom, complicated by African American attitudes about gay life, but has mutated in use to where in the macho world of professional athletes it meant to imply something else and was not meant in disrespect, though it could be offensive to some.  No harm intended, but offense could be taken.  Such is the tyranny of political correctness especially in the hyper amplified world where big name stardom and social media meet. 

       I don't know if it is an improvement that we now are more aware of our language skills and word choices and sensitive to their impact, or if we have just netted ourselves in a time and place where, despite intent, a word or phrase can lead to a knee jerk type of social persecution.

      I'm inclined to think we must indeed be wise in our word choice, but still there was so much wisdom-and hassle avoidance, in that old childhood retort.

SO LET'S JUST GET AWAY FROM PEOPLE

Big Sur-Lime Kiln Canyon-One of the world's special places

    A simple pleasure is to hike from where water falls out of the mountains to where it runs into the Pacific.

  Here, words and language seem secondary.

  See you down the trail.

THE EXOTICS ARE BACK AND KITES OVER THE PACIFIC

 EXOTICS IN BLOOM

    The annual succulent show in San Luis Obispo again provides plenty at which to marvel.

My George Lucas inspired imagination sees a Jabba the Hutt type creature in repose, below. That would be Jabba with a punk  hair cut.

This specie, and its cousins, are especially interesting in that they resemble something barely alive.

KITES OVER THE PACIFIC

   Several miles north of Cambria on the Pacific Coast highway, the sky is frequently filled.

    For several years I've watched these extraordinary athletes and remain fascinated by this combination of surfing and sailing.

    The launching beach is a wide expanse of sand.

   Below, the view behind the beach.

   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.