20-20 Hindsight (1/5/2021)

Merian Webster defines 20-20 Hindsight as follows: "the full knowledge and complete understanding that one has about an event only after it has happened."

Well some year we have had. I have joked that when the clock strikes midnight on January 1, 2021 we can actually claim 20-20 hindsight.  2020 is finally over!  Although, it might take historians a long time to have a complete understanding of what happened that year.  It has been a wild and crazy one. 

It all stopped for me in March 11.  I was working from home after two days of teaching in Lynchburg  (a bit more about that later), when word came down that the state went in the COVID-19 lock down.  I have not traveled since and been to Richmond twice for a half hour.  I realize that I am fairly egocentric here; however, this is my blog  and I assume you all read and follow the news.

If being locked up wasn't bad enough, we had to do this under Donald tRump, the now expected temporary occupant of the Whitehouse.  I think in hindsight (there is that word again) he was completely unprepared, uninterested and unwilling to deal with the Corona virus.  I read Bob Woodward's book (Rage) on the subject, and it is amazing.  tRump was only interested in the end of the impeachment trial, the upcoming reelection, and the stock market.  More and more were we seeing how he was trying to undo anything Obama had done and literally screw up this country.

And then we got the murder of George Floyd.  The shit hit the fan and it lit the country on fire (in addition the the wildfires that were raging in the west).  tRump proved that he really was without empathy and he could only call for law and order.  In addition to being without empathy, tRump also proved he was without religion and obviously analphabetic, holding the bible upside down, while grandstanding in front of a church in Washington.  Speculations are that his law and order stance is what eventually would be the reason he lost the elections (but historians will be the better judge of that).  But now at the beginning of the new year, he is still fighting the outcome of the elections.  I think one thing is for sure: history will not be kind to the tRump presidency.  He ran this country like his company.  Into the ground, bankrupting it, morally and financially.

On a more personal level, my past couple of posts have been more introspective about my so called house arrest under the Corona virus.  I wrote about my teleworking and my lack of inspiration lately; however, my mind and body have been busy.  We restored our deck this summer and that was a huge job.  I split a large oak by hand for our wood stove.  Of course, I also spent a lot of time with my bonsai. I did a lot of reading and thinking.  

One thing that fascinates me is moral and religious hypocrisy.  This is something that is sorely missing in the current Whitehouse, with a lot of political leaders and with a lot of religious leaders.  Politically, we encountered Lindsey Graham after Ruth Bader Ginsburg died or Ted Cruz who after all the abuse he, his wife and his father got from tRump still happily defends him, hoping to gain politically.

On a personal level I was fascinated by Jerry Falwell and his downfall from Liberty University in Lynchburg, the last place I visited before lockdown.  I wrote about Falwell and the university in this post.  It was uncovered that good old Jerry enjoyed watching his wife having sex with other (younger) men.  He was supposedly sitting in a chair next to the bed, enjoying his private porn show.  I have not seen reports on whether he was dressed or not, and what else he was doing at the time (I want to bet that he wasn't reading the newspaper).  It seems that there are quite a few men in healthy marriages who enjoy this type of relationship either as a way of being humiliated (for lacking something somewhere) or just the joy of sharing.  This is an interesting article on the subject.  In other words, I am not condemning it; I am condemning Jerry's hypocrisy.  So yes, it fascinates me that someone at the head of such a prominent religious institution who claims to be the north star of the moral compass has his or her human quirks that eventually bring them to their knees.  To think that all the conservative politicians would visit Jerry and Liberty U. to get their blessing, and that students would need to stay celibate, while Jerry had his private porn show, curtesy of his wife.  

The hypocrisy of it all.  But then I read that Joel Osteen is so filthy rich that finally his flock is seeing right through him and some are abandoning him.  The poverty we have thanks to tRump, COVID, his tax cuts for the wealthy and running the economy into the ground, while these mega-church pastors, University and company presidents are getting richer and living the life!  Lines at food banks are longer than ever, and Jerry got a severance package worth a few million.  But our millionaire politicians can only come up with $600 for the regular folks, which does not even cover the rent. You get the message: hypocrisy abound in 2020.

Well folks some year it has been.  Let us not look back too long, but hope for a better tomorrow.  Happy New Year!

Water (12/29/2020)

It was Rachel Carson who wrote: “The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place.” Who am I to disagree? Having lived and grown up in the vicinity of the sea from my third through my sixteenth birthday and spending almost every day in it, I fully agree with her. I even have photographs of me as an infant at the shore of Lake Tanzania (or Lake Tanganyika as it was called in those days) one of the largest natural lakes in Africa. Technically that was not a sea, but you cannot see the opposite shore. Even later in Holland between my 16th and 22nd birthday, I was never far away from the water (those Dutch canals) or ocean. For the past 20 years I have lived on the Chesapeake Bay and have the almost daily illusion that when I am in Yorktown and look east, I actually have an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean and thus can look all the way to Portugal or thereabouts. As a sailor I know I am wrong, because leaving Yorktown at the 90-degree compass bearing I would sail straight into Cape Charles on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, and never make it to the actual ocean.

This photograph was taken in August 2020 in Yorktown looking east!  Portugal I see you! (not).  But you get the picture, that is why I like living here. 

I often wonder what my attraction to the ocean or water is? I always blamed some form of claustrophobia, like the need to see the horizon. In fact, I grew up being able to see the horizon. On a clear day we could literally see the coast of Venezuela from our home some 60 kilometers (40 miles) away. Accounting for the curvature of the earth we actually saw the peaks of the coastal mountain range. This was especially spectacular at night, when the mountains got hit by thunderstorms and you could see the lightning. Pretty cool for us living on a more desert like island. But even in the Netherlands where I moved when I was 16, you can easily get to places where you can look to infinity.  Holland or the western part of the Netherlands, where I lived, is as flat as a pancake, and you can see for miles, even when not standing on a shore. 

The most miserable place I ever lived was Durham, North Carolina (sorry guys). This was probably because we lived in a rental and because we knew that it was only for three months. We lived there in the mid 1980s next to a racist who would stand in his front yard with a gin and tonic at 10 am complaining to me about those n...... But to me it was also because I could never get my bearings; too many trees, no horizon, I felt closed in. I really never knew where I was. Nepal, Yemen, Uganda all gave me a chance to look as far as I wanted.

Even living in New Mexico where I did not have to deal with claustrophobia. There were no trees in the desert, or when there were I could look around them and look far.  I absolutely loved it. But still, getting to the big lake called Elephant Bute in the Rio Grande was something spectacular to me. Open water! I wrote three posts about our visit to Newfoundland, and boy there again, the coastal areas were a delight. Oh, and coastal Scotland but then the single malt really helped too in my love affair with that country and its coast. 

Maybe, except for the single malt, what do all these experiences have in common? Water, oceans, lakes, and horizons. What does it tell you or me about me? I really do not know. That my body is comprised of something like 70 or 80% H2O? That I, like every regular human being, need to drink 8 glasses of water to survive or at least be healthy. Maybe that that like every one of you I have evolved from some lifeform that originally lived in water, especially that interface between water and shore? Getting back to Ms. Carson, that interface between ocean and land is beautiful and sometimes frightening. The area where the waves crash the algae, seaweed, oysters, crabs, etc. In evolutionary times those first creatures that ventured out of the waves onto the shores (plants, animals, etc.) to see if they could survive there. 

The horizon probably signifies my wander lust.  Not that I am any way like them, but I am sure that is what attracted the great explorers like Columbus, Cook or even Darwin.  They had the urge the discover what was over the horizon; new things to see, to experience.   More and more do I havve the need to see what is over the horizon and I cannot believe that I live in this house for more than 20 years.  Here I am couped up in it for almost a year thanks to COVID-19. I need to study these feeling and the deeper reasons behind them a bit more. 

One thing I do know is that we need to take care of our water. Water, clean water is so essential to us all, and it seems that we are forgetting this. On my daily walks I still see piles of dog shit around that people refuse to pick up. I observe litter all over the place. A lot of this, if not all of it, will be ending up in our surface water and pollute it. We need to take care of our water folks; it is all that we have. This is the only planet that we have, that our kids have and our grandkids.

I need to write more (12/22/2020)

Usually and the end of the year, or sometimes at the beginning of the new year I take stock of what happened during the year that has just gone by. Well’ I am not sure if this is my definitive blog for 2020, but I somehow feel like writing and excusing myself for not writing as much as a should, have been in the past, etc.

I am finding that it is more difficult to be creative after having to be creative for my job day-in, day-out and having to create on-line classes that keep people’s interest. In addition, being stuck at home and looking from my perch is somewhat boring and I do not get the inspiration that I usually get from traveling, listening to the radio and meeting people. Do I have the COVID blues? I do not know, but look at the graph below and you can see what funk I am in in my blogging (the 17 includes today’s blog). 

Previously, I wrote about inspiration in which I debunked this idea of not being inspired or not having a creative mind (somehow, the illustration was lost). Therefore, I cannot blame it on that. Am I depressed? Not really, in the sense of the word. Maybe slightly depressed, but I think we all are in a bit of a funk having that Sword of Damocles (the sword of COVID) hanging above our head on that tenuous string. When will I get it or a loved one, like my almost 94-year-old father-in-law get it? And how will I or they react to getting it? Yes, I can finally say that people in my direct orbit have gotten COVID. One survived; she reported that when her husband brought home her favorite ice-cream, it just tasted wet and cold. Esther, the 90 year-old (ex?) girlfriend of my father-in-law who has Alzheimer is currently in the hospital with COVID. We fear the worst. But by now, we are all waiting until it is our turn to get the vaccine, at least when you are not an anti-vaxxer.

What is my daily routine like? I usually wake up around 6:20. After getting dressed, I put on the coffee and get the newspaper with the dogs. They get their morning snack when we come back in, and we read the paper. Then it is breakfast and a dog walk, followed by “hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to the office we go” and that is just one flight of stairs away. Coffee around 10:30 and lunch at 12. We walk the dogs again, and I may spend a few minutes out back with my trees (bonsais). Back to work, which is interrupted by coffee around 3. I usually quit around 4:30 and take a shower. The shower is a great ritual for me to end the work day. Then it is time to make dinner and settle down for the evening. Boring isn’t it? Thank goodness, I still enjoy cooking, and at least once a week, the monotony is broken up by the need to bake bread. Baking bread requires more frequent trips down the stairs to fold the dough and to do something to it (“hey Google, set the timer for a half hour”).

COVID weekends are not any more exciting. One of the days is a dog park visit (Waller Mill in Williamsburg) and a walk in the woods (one of three trails). If the weather is good, we may stop for a brief visit for a beer at one of the microbreweries (usually the Brass Cannon, we sit outside of course). The other day is spent around the home. It is all very inspirational and I am sure, something many of you also spend your COVID year. Listening to my colleagues during our staff meetings that is about right.

So how should I get my writing mojo back and again write at least 30 posts per year? Maybe for next year I just need to take a word out of the dictionary and write a blog post around it. Just what comes to mind, but that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? At least now, I still have room to write my review of 2020.

From high on top of my perch (12/10/2010)

From high up my perch, there is the Amazon Prime guy, again. No, not for us. For the folks across the street. Not that we do not spend our money there. Heck, we are bleeding Amazon money, but not today. My wife even yelled to me, up the stairs: “Was that for us?” Actually, Alexa would tell us. “Alexa what are my notifications?”

However, I did not want to talk about Alexa or Amazon. I wanted to talk about my roost upstairs, overlooking the road in front of us. At times it is distracting as well as entertaining sitting here looking out of my window.

You get to see a baby blue unmarked construction vehicle with a ladder on the roof, and there goes the Prime vehicle, on its way back out of the neighborhood. People going to work, coming home. You see the regulars, walking their dogs: Bill walking Sophie; the woman walking Chaco; the guys from around the corner walking their what looks like a scotty but much larger; the big guy who collects military vehicles but actually is somewhat meek with his dog; the older lady who first walks her dog and then you see her speed walking by. You have your regular runners, the women with strollers, the groups of women trying to exercise and lose weight (I think). There is a (I think retired) couple who walk by every afternoon hand-in-hand, she is about 2 or 3 inches taller than he is. I also see people walk about 10 homes and walk back and I think: “is that all.”

You have a few individuals, but I suspect they have some social anxiety. Not bad, but it took a long time for them to even acknowledge me when I was outside and met them on my (or our walk). Especially one gal, she walks straight like an arrow, her arms cocked and really out to get some exercise. She is fun; you can sometime catch her and her husband shooting bow and arrow in their back yard. The other day I watched them throwing knives and axes.

Then there are cyclists. In the morning, there are often two cyclists on recumbent bikes. These two do not live in the neighborhood, but it is safe to bike here. I know they do not live here because they are members of the yacht club we belong to, and I know where they live. While typing this I have already seen two others bike by. The fun part is the kids from two houses down. They love to bike. But, the minute I step out off the front door, they race home, throw their bikes on the front lawn and run in the house. My wife and I are known as extremely liberal and these kids’ parents are T-party conservatives (Q-anon?). I wonder if the kids were told to watch out for us because we eat kids? I always smile at them and wave. You get the picture.

Finally, you have my favorite: Felicity. Felicity is pregnant; she walks her Great Dane: Bruce, who is a friend of our dog. When Bruce escapes from his home or yard, he comes to visit us, to play with Jasper out dog. Felicity has four kids already and you know she is coming by when you see some of her sons on a little bike coming by. They herald her and Bruce. Felicity and gang will sometimes stop over to talk and play in our yard, which is a welcome distraction from teleworking and looking at a computer screen. No cannibalistic fear here! Oh well, just some musing while looking out of the window. But now I have to go downstairs; the mail lady just delivered a (Christmas?) package.

There goes Felicity and Bruce.  I was prepared and knew they were coming by because there were little boys on small bike that  came by heralding her imminent appearance.  (photo was taken on November 16 when I still have leaves on the trees, now a month later it is all bare).

Does the earth love us? (11/26/2020)

 Do you think the earth loves you back?

An interesting question indeed.  I am reading Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer and I one of her essays she mentions that she asked her students exactly that question.  Her students were dumbfounded.  But when she made it more hypothetical it became easier for her students to address the question.   "What do you suppose would happen if people believe this crazy notion that the earth loved them back?"  It seemed a discussion broke out, and one student proclaimed that you could never harm something that loved you!

So here we are.  Am I or is Robin anthropomorphising?  I really do not know.  I think there is an important point to be made here. Why would we want to screw up our environment and treat our earth, the only one we have, like crap and expect it to love us and treat us nicely?  But that is what we are doing.  No wonder it is throwing global warming at us and natural disasters like a record hurricane season.  Hopefully, you don't do this at home with your loved ones, or with your friends.  So why gamble and abuse that piece of real estate you, your children, and your grand children depend on?  It will definitely keep returning the favor!  Well, if I was the earth, I am not sure if I could love my human inhabitants, unless I am the benevolent earth.

In the past I have written a lot about what some of the religious thoughts about men's dominion over the natural world.  How early on many religious folks and philosophers considered that a supreme being created the earth.  They were convinced that everything on the earth was for us humans, who were created in his image, to exploit and use, and that we would be provided for.  I mentioned characters like Malthus who rang the alarm bell and told us that eventually this may come back to bite us in the but because we would exceed the earth's carrying capacity for humans.

I also wrote about my fear over Trump's view and what he would do.  I knew he hated nature and the natural environment.  Golf courses for him baby, highly modified and treated with fertilizers and pesticides; not exactly loving nature.  Moreover, I am sure his hands never touched dirt except to pick up a golf ball.  Well despite his loss in the recent election, he is still at it trying to wreck havoc to the environment and the earth, inflicting damage that will be difficult to undo.

Concluding, I (still) strongly believe that we were put on the earth to take care of nature and of mother earth so it would take care of us, not to exploit and abuse it.  If we do that, I am sure it will return the favor!

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

The woods behind our home.  I am so happy I live here, that they are under conservation easement, and that I can enjoy them every day.  We need more green space in our collective life, to protect our air, our water, our sanity and our soul.

Strange days indeed (11/17/2020)

Strange days indeed. That is all I can say. The current occupant of the White House, the orange haired guy, lost the election the Joseph R. Biden, but he does not want to concede and it looks like he is using a very blunt ax to go nuts with the government. He is firing folks, giving away the Arctic Natural Wildlife Refuge and doing other foolish things. It seems he does not care about the Corona Virus, which he claimed would magically disappear after the election, and now he spends more time on the golf course. Strange days indeed.

A large portion of this country laughed, cried, and celebrated. It was the Saturday after the election which was partially caused by the corona virus. Folks were afraid to show up at the polls and voted absentee, by mail, or early. However, they voted in huge numbers. More than ever, strange days indeed.

I do not want to make this a long post, but I want to add my 5 cents to history and my blog. Record what I saw, and what I experienced. I did vote on November 3rd. The main reason was that the State gave us a day off to vote. So, I decided I needed to do it that day. The day was also meant to volunteer during the election, which I did as well. First at my polling place and then later in the day with my wife at a different location. Maybe I was able to help two African American ladies with voting during the entire time that I was helping at the poll. One lost her I.D., for the other it was her first time voting.  My wife encountered one person who was not sure who to vote for. That still amazes me, he must have just emerged from his cave. Strange days indeed.

My wife Donna, at the poll.  She was knitting and actually attracting a lot of onlookers and comments while doing so.

Oh well, I will leave it there, and sign off. I am eagerly awaiting the time that Biden can officially start the transition to his administration and of course for that phone call from the chief of staff with a job offer to join the Biden administration. I am sure that day will never come, but if there was a job for me, I would not refuse; I am very excited about what is to come.  But, it would definitely be a strange day indeed, if that would happen. 

I love this country (10/15/2020)

I really do love this country.  Otherwise I would have never changed my citizenship.  This is why that over the past four years I have been relatively vocal about our political leaders or those people that claim to be our leaders.  I have also continued raising the alarm about our environment locally, nationally, but also globally, because we simply do not live in a bubble.  I really prefer to write about my life, my travels around the state (pre-COVID), and the nature around me; however, it is important to lend a voice to this important cause.  

I much rather write about my walks in the woods and exploration than raising the alarm.  I love to describe what see, like these two gorgeous little guys.

It feels that our current so called leaders want us to live in isolation and as you know from my posts, I have not only lived in many regions in this country, but also in many countries on this blue marble floating in space.  The U.S.A. was respected world-wide in the old days.  From what I hear, that is no longer the case.  It always amazed me when I entered a hut in Uganda, in the late 1970s and saw a picture either of president Kennedy or sometimes even of president Carter on a wall, often together with the obligatory picture of Idi Amin.  If you did not have Amin on your wall, you were a dead person for sure, or at least potentially dead.  I would not be surprised if Obama showed up in the past 12 years or so.

The problem is that this term "Make America Great Again" does not hark back to the time that the U.S.A. was respected abroad, because we were respected under Obama and the last president Bush.  This MAGA slogan is isolationist and for the largest part a racist slogan.  That bothers me.  However, for example, when I try to set people straight about the black lives matter movement and tell conservative acquaintances about its deep roots, I am being made fun off by those MAGA few and told I that I miss the boat and need an education.  In fact it is they who need one, but at one point I feel like giving up and withdrawing into my peer group, my safety net.  What is the use trying to educate them and potentially alienating them.  I am not sure that I have the story completely straight and can defend myself through thick and thin without loosing my temper.

Am I hiding and avoiding confrontation?  I am afraid so; at times I do have the guts, at other times I just avoid it.  Should I always stand up for what I believe, defend it and try to work for what I believe is a more perfect country?  I am often at a loss and not sure if I make the right decision.  Should I react with my brain of my heart? 

I learned that liberal vs. conservative or democrate vs. republican is becoming almost more ideologic or religious and that the divide is becoming so sharp that they can almost be called battle lines.  This is scary, I have seen tribal wars in Africa and in Yemen.  In Yemen they ended up becoming a war between religious sects.  In Nepal, I saw what happens when a cast system (or a class system) puts its stamp on society.  A bloody civil was followed there as well.  I am in fact fearful of what will happen after the election.  

All I can say is that it is important to vote and the closer the outcome of the election is the likelier it will be that there will be trouble in this country that I chose to move to, live in and love.  I would really hate to see that happen.

Time for an update (10/11/2020)

Not sure why I have not written in my blog for such a long time. It is not because I am depressed; however, I think I lack the motivation and external stimulation. “What” you may say, most of us are over-stimulated by all the events happening in the news. Let’s look at them all:

• We are looking at hurricane Delta, which is aiming for New Orleans or somewhere around there.
• Trump has COVID-19 and is acting like a baboon. Moreover, it seems that he has become a super spreader and is proud of it.
• Talking about baboons, if you had the stomach as I did to watch the first presidential debate, you know what I mean.  On the other hand you may wish to buy a fly swatter.
• It looks like the entire western U.S.A. is on fire.
• And, let us not forget Jerry Falwell, one of the subjects of a post of mine earlier this year, was fired from Liberty University, in Lynchburg. Best of all, because he enjoyed watching his wife having sex with other (younger) men.

These are just few of the wonderful things going on around us and I am sure there is so much more I can mention, or you can come up with. Maybe I should mention that we have an election coming up. While I am a news junky, when push comes to shove, and it is the end of the day, I just want to veg out and watch a YouTube bonsai show, or play a Sudoku game. I simply forget to update you all about my life. Oh well, my excuses for not keeping you apprised of my life’s events. I telework, and sit behind my computer somewhat around 7 hours every day. The other morning while walking Jasper the dog, one of my neighbors was complaining when I commented what a beautiful day it was. “Who cares, I have to go sit behind my computer for 8 hours,” Ed said. I reminded him that he could always take a break and briefly step away as I do. I water my bonsai, and we eat lunch out on the deck.  Still, I feel depressed at times.  But then, I am not depressed all the time; overall, I am doing ok.  My world has just become very small.  I have been to Richmond twice, and my other trips consist of going to the grocery store and picking up my father-in-law for dinner.  We have our daily walks around the block, and of late we have started going to a dog park in Williamsburg which we sometimes end with a visit to one of the microbreweries.  We choose the on closest to the dog park, that has outdoor seating and is the least known or popular, but has a pretty darn good IPA.

Our regular brewery stop in Williamsburg (the Brass Cannon Brewery).  They make some decent beer and a killer IPA.

So what work things have I been doing since the last time I wrote?  I have developed and presented a few webinars where I talk about soil and vegetation restoration and one about vermin in our stormwater structures.  I have also converted some of my regular classes to web-based classes.  They keep me in touch with the outside world.  On a personal we have kayaked twice, I have hand split a huge oak that had fallen in the neighbor's yard, and redid our deck (almost).  As you should have seen I even did a sermon at church.  So no, I did not sit still.  I just have enough of this, and I can imagine that many do and want to break out, don't care if they get sick and want to believe that jerk in the White House who claims is is less severe than the flu.  But don't get fooled folks, it is a killer.  I'll write ssome more about me and my thoughts soon.

I love to change the world (7/27/2020)

When I was young, much younger, I was an idealist with a goal to change the world. Don’t we all at some point have these aspirations. But then we grow up. I listened to tunes from Ten Years After where they sang in their song “I Love to Change the World:”

Tax the rich 
Feed the poor
Till there are no 
Rich no more 

And,

Population 

Keeps on breeding 

Nation bleeding 

Still more feeding, economy 

But then there was this refrain to the song:

I'd love to change the world 

But I don't know what to do 

So I'll leave it up to you 

For many of us it was a difficult thing to do, to change the world. We were flower children, peace, love, but what else?

I protested against the CIA’s involvement in Chile. My wife and I spent almost two years working at a leprosy center in Africa, after an obligatory period in the Dutch Army (I was too chicken to be a conscious objector, although I did my best to be as difficult as possible while serving). Did that change the world? Not in the tiniest bit, but in addition to almost losing our life, it made us feel we might have done something.

Then, after two more international development jobs, it was time to settle in for middleclass life, or as we sometime say in my native language little house, small tree and a small animal (or huisje, boompje, beestje). So here I am 40 to 50 years later, after living a middleclass lifestyle, nothing has changed, or maybe somethings have changed for the worst. I would still love to change the world; although I still am not sure how to do it. Here I sit back in my armchair and I am secretly encouraged to see that a different, younger generation seems to be taking it upon themselves trying to do something about it. Things like gay rights, gender equality, and now black lives matter.

I am far from disappointed with my almost 70 years of existence. Working for the government I have to change the world in a more subtle way, and I do that with my teaching. I have tried to do that a little bit in the blog posts that I have written in the past. While they were intended to be more educational about nature and the environment, a lot of my posts have become more political. Necessarily so, with such a horrible person in the Whitehouse.

I am hoping to have at least another 20 or so productive years to go. Twenty years where I have the freedom not to sit back, but to work on changing the world. Right now, I am wondering which of the causes to pick up. There are so many pressing ones. My first inclination as a biologist is to work fork for the environment. Without a clean environment there will be no future for the next generations. Moreover, environmental justice is a very important issue which touches the environment, children, poverty and racial minorities. Moreover, research by Richard Louv and others has shown that criminal behavior including gang affiliation can be reduced by exposure to the natural environment.

A country for frustrated people (6/16/2020)

Being originally from Europe and immigrated to the US at the ripe old age of 41, at least that is when I officially became a US citizen I have always had a somewhat unique view or opinion of my newly adopted country. This came back to the foreground 26 years later during the recent Black Lives Matter demonstrations, the reactions to them by certain groups and after listening to a radio show on NPR.  Let me explain. 

In the past folks always asked me to contrast the difference in religiosity between Europe and the US.  Not that I am an expert, or ever went to church while living in Europe, but I try to oblige.  It seems to me that here in the US folks are so much more religious than in Holland or in Europe in general.  My superficial take has always been that the religious heretics, fanatics, outcasts, or persecuted, whatever you may call them fled to the US, for the so called freedom of religion.  Good riddance!  Here in the US religion flourished and like it or not this is what we ended up with.  This is why I think we have such a plethora of different religions and splintered off groups and really fanatical groups.  There are all kinds of different denominations and groups; on top of that they came up with a couple of new ones here as well.  Very unlike what I experienced in Europe (I think).

This theory is mostly something I developed in my mind and it makes sense to me.  It has been bolstered by some materials I have read and heard.  I am sure that I am completely wrong, but I like the theory.  To me it is an interesting way of looking at things in these times of racial upheaval, after the George Floyd incident.  It also relates to what is currently happening.  I am very encouraged to see that in the current Black Lives Matter demonstrations there are so many white folks that have joined in; in particular young people.  It shows that racial attitudes are slowly changing (as they should).  In the rest of this essay (or blog post) I would like to explore why I think it took so long.  But I do not think it is unlike what we are seeing with the religiosity above.  

I stood on the sidelines at the 1969 race riots on the small island where I grew up.  I watched them march by our school that day and I can still see it.  They stopped in at the Portuguese owned grocery store across our high school to buy something to drink on their way downtown.  I was 15 at the time, in awe and itching to join; fascinated and curious but scared, so I did not join them.  I don't think any of the students did.  I really did not understand the issues anyway, and when I got home I noticed that my parents were deadly afraid.  We had moved out of the Congo in the mid 1950s, where many colonialists (including friends of my parents) had been killed during the war of independence in the early 1960s (read V.S. Naipaul's A Bend in the River, or Margret Atwood's A Poison Wood Bible.  Both are novels but very well researched on the subject.) 

With this migration of the religious bunch also other persecuted folks came along: the poor, day laborers, the enslaved, indentured servants, sharecroppers, in essence the downtrodden looking for a better existence.  So it should not be surprising that the people who were so used to being discriminated and being used and were now freed, were happy to return the favor or at least did not see anything wrong with slavery, discrimination and the false idea of racial or ethnic superiority.  In other words, they had no problem with their opinion that they were better than than those people with a different skin color or even those that spoke a different language.  They came from a culture in Europe where they had been treated that way, and thus that attitude and thinking was normal; now finally they had the upper hand.  In my opinion this is partially the root to a lot of the racism we see in this country.

While most Europeans realized the mistake of their ways, in particular after what happened under Hitler and other fascist regimes, the folks that immigrated to North America never did, and superiority of the white European race was still being held on to.  It is a terrible thing to let go off and we still see this in the current occupant of the White House, his followers, (or is he blindly following them?), many of the Republicans in congress, the white nationalists, Nazis, and like folks.  

As I mentioned above, I am encouraged to see that the movement appears to be sustainable for right now.  However, we need to make sure that these folks go vote.  We need to get voter registration tables out there at the protests and get everybody registered, because that is the only way to change things.

          

George Floyd or Black Lives Matter (6/1/2020)

I am upset. This country is being torn apart, hijacked by certain people, a noble cause is being drug through the mud, allowing dog whistles to fly.

Let me explain, I am white or Caucasian if you have not figured that one out yet. I was born in the darkest of Africa, the Congo. I often joke that this makes me an African American, although I have a distinct advantage of having a white skin color. I can only imagine what real African Americans go through.  I have actually been subject of reverse discrimination of which I write about here.  I grew up in the Caribbean and had white, brown and black friends. We did not see the difference (and this was in the 1960s). In my adult life, I worked in Africa, the Middle East, Asia, and on a Native American Reservation. Again, it acknowledged to me that we are all the same. We all put on our pants in the morning, one leg at a time. Currently, in front of our home we have a sign that reads “Black Lives Matter.” 

The sign in our front yard.  We got this at our church and we proudly show this in our front yard.  We get people stopping by, who tell us how much they like it.

I have not been blogging much lately, this Covid-19 business has gotten me down, but as you can probable surmise, the George Floyd murder and what is currently happening to this country is really upsetting me. Yes, I am as upset about it as everyone else. While I am against the death penalty, I almost wish the police officer would face a similar penalty: “death by knee strangulation.” What upset me almost as much was the video of one of the police officers quickly looking at the scene and then looking away.

What also upsets me is what followed. I really liked the nationwide demonstrations. They are needed to focus attention on what is happening to the black community and they are needed to bring social and political change. Boy, do we need social and political change (I might write about it later). However, I do not like the looting and the burning of buildings that accompanied it all.

Our church is on the border of a black, somewhat poor neighborhood, and since the outbreak of Covid-19 I think it was burglarized 3 times. In my mind and I have explained it to my wife by telling her that probably these folks cannot or have a hard time getting unemployment or even the stimulus check. To be able to survive they have to go to food pantries, food kitchens or rely on burglary. Case-in-point, the food was stolen out of the fridge at church, in addition to the laptop. So the looting of grocery stores maybe, but fancy sneaker stores, not really. In addition, it seems that there are right-wing agitators in the crowd that maybe egging them on or are really the Molotov cocktail throwers and fire starters. 

It was Dillan Root the white-supremacist Charleston Church killer, who hoped that his killing would “start the revolution.” Other white-supremacists were hoping their action would do the same thing. I am afraid that this is what the agitators are trying to do, assisted by Trump, who is sending dog whistle after dog whistle to his troops and supporters, and the failing Republican Party. We need to go back to peaceful protest and do the following things:

1. Elect Biden as our next president
2. When we do that, make sure that Biden selects a young, dynamic person as vice-president. Because, we all know that Biden will serve for one term and this person will be next. We need a new generation of leaders and thinkers in this country. I am a 66-year-old baby boomer and I realize it is time for new thinkers. Mayor Pete or a younger white or black male or female would be a good choice.  (I used to be a Klobuchar fan, but it seems that she did not prosecute the cop that killed George Floyd for a previous violation when she was the District Attorney).
3. Trow the republicans out of congress and the senate, they are obstructionists and cling to the old ideas of yesterday that don't work and have caused the situation we are in now (the riots and the Corona pandemic).
4. All these protesters should understand what Trump is doing, keep up the demonstrations (peacefully) and they should use the power of their vote to force social and political change. Get people registered and get people to the poles in November. Yes, Trump and his cronies are going to call them socialists or worse communist. Remember, he is in bed with Putin, the real communist dictator.

Self Isolation sucks (4/27/2020)

I am an introvert. At least that is what all the tests tell me. By now in my sixth week of self-isolation I am starting to wonder if I am a charlatan, a master in fooling all these tests and if I am really an extrovert. I am sick and tired of being stuck at home. Yes, I go on daily walks around the neighborhood with my dogs and say hello the regular folks: dog walkers, exercisers and alike, social distancing of course. However, I can still count on both hands how many times I actually left home in my car and mingled among others.

Except for two restaurants take outs and three visits to the hardware store, it seems that the other visits I make are to my local Kroger store (the supermarket). I put on a mask get my Purell and go get bananas for my father-in-law, and while I am there, I might as well do some shopping for our own pantry. In all these stores you get to see people, but even there is no real interaction with these folks. You do not know if they laugh, smile frown, at least if they wear a mask. You avoid everyone like the plague; like ships passing in the dark. With the exception of the one lady who ran a shopping cart into my back and this young kid who could not help all the sudden stop in from of me and then when I passed him he stated coughing and he did not have a mask on. The other day I was struck by the idea, that finally an enterprising sixteen-year-old with a grey wig, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and a bandanna can finally buy beer at a grocery store with a self-checkout line.

I would say that 50 to 60% of the people at a grocery store or hardware store wear masks, and what amazes me is that most folks that wear masks are either older, which is good, or appear in good physical shape. Walking around these stores I look over the ones that do not wear a mask and many appear to be in their 40s and 50s and heavily overweight; struggling to walk. I cannot help thinking: “another dead man or woman walking.” If they do not have diabetes or heart trouble, they will soon have it and that is the population most affected by Covid-19.

But back to the extrovert introvert controversy. I like my solitude, being alone strolling along in nature in the woods; but I do miss that human interaction, the human touch, the exploring of new things. That is what I am missing after 6 weeks. Yes, I have my wife at home, but that is not enough. Introverts do like to be among humans, but it tires them out after a while, after which they need to recharge somehow by solitude. But solitude is different than being alone. Solitude is good, alone is not (I wrote about that in this post). I am wondering how many people are alone, these days; even when they are living with others.

Solitude is where you find solace. I find my solace from being with my bonsais, from walking in the woods, being out in nature, sailing, blogging, or even .just driving the backroads, all activities I do in solitude or that I can do with my wife. The problem is I have not been sailing much, for my blogging I need to get out and experience life, and self-isolation is not conducive to that or to aimlessly driving the back roads. While I can still enjoy retreating in the woods, I usually do not seek solace there. I do it because I am an introvert, a naturalist, a lover of nature and because of my nature deficit disorder. However, at times, I definitely have retreated into the solitude of the woods when I was sad and worried, in search of solace. But of late it is my little trees where I get lost in and dream about how to develop them, watching them as every leaf come out.

This is an azalea that I dug up from our yard last year.  It was planted by the previous owner more than 20 years ago.  It never bloomed, was abused by deer and was less than 5 inches tall.  This is the second spring in this pot and it is awarding me with this blossom.  After flowering it is training time for this plant.   

My Sermon (2): Liberation (4/5/2020)

As part of a group that takes a sermon writing class at our Unitarian Church, I am asked occasionally if I present a sermon on the days that our minister is either off or has a commitment elsewhere.  I relented and said I would do one.  Originally I was thinking of presenting a sermon on growing bonsai and spiritual growth and church growth; however, when the request came out, they asked me if I could do something on liberation.

So here it is:

It started with a low rumble in the distance which progressively grew louder. Of late this had been an ominous sign of another impending raid by marauding soldiers trying to escape north to the Sudan in advance of the liberators who were in the process of overthrowing the current government of the country. I remember it like yesterday, being liberated. 

Let me set the stage, it was May 1979 and my wife Donna, and I were living and working at a Leprosy Center in the eastern part of Uganda, a country that had been ruled by the ruthless dictator Idi Amin. We had been in the country for over a year, and I had been working at the Leprosy Center as a Farm Manager, managing a 2500-acre dairy farm, with close to a 1000 head of cattle, that was part of the Center. In January of that year, rebels with the assistance of Tanzania to the south had invaded the country in an effort to overthrow the government. In April, I think it was actually on Donna’s birthday or just before that, did Uganda’s capital Kampala fall. The Amin army fell apart, deserted and tried to flee to the Sudan to the north. The problem was our Leprosy Center was located just off the major highway to Sudan. We had been unable to evacuate in time and we were stuck at the center. During the past weeks we had been subject to the looting and harassment sprees of these fleeing soldiers. Moreover, while under siege for the past month to a month and a half we were running out of all things essential (sounds familiar?) and had to live on one candle a night; two or three matches a day; we only ate sweet potatoes and eggs three times a day; drank rainwater and locally distilled moonshine. I’m amazed that I still have a liver and my eyesight. 

Hearing the vehicles approaching in the distance meant that we needed to get ready to deal with another wave of obnoxious soldiers (corner me over a beer one of these days and I can tell you some stories, but this is not the place today) when all the sudden tanks and jeeps rolled in, very unlike the deserters who came in with stolen ramshackle cars. Here they announced that they were the liberators, the Tanzanians! It was unbelievable feeling of relief that moment, being liberated, we laughed, we cried, we knew we had made it. Let me tell you, there had been moments the past month that we thought we were not going to survive it. Really, being liberated never felt so good. On top of that, the evening of our liberation Radio Netherlands read an announcement over the shortwave radio in which it told the listeners that we were missing in Uganda and asked anyone who had heard of us or seen us to call the Netherlands foreign office, but that they feared the worst. 

But, we were liberated and we were alive, we could live again without fear! Almost everybody was rejoicing and celebrating; and that night we burned two candles and had a small get-together, followed by a center-wide party the weekend following. 

During that party, the flood gates opened, the people were finally able to express what they thought of Idi Amin’s reign and the past 10 years they had lived through. We heard more horror stories about the oppression, the difference between the haves and the have nots, how you could not even trust your closest relative, because they could rat you out and that could cost you your life. 

Living in Uganda and working with lepers, we were working with a part of society that were outcasts and heavily discriminated against. Nowadays we would call this social justice. Social justice is not a new thing, but unbeknownst to us we were practicing it. We were not using those words; we were there to help. Some could ask me why the hell we put ourselves in such danger to serve and work with these folks. It was a combination of a lot of things including compassion, empathy, naivety, and the thirst for adventure. I have always been a teacher at heart and in my way, I also was there to observe and teach. While we had already learned a lot about the difference between the ruling class and the common folks, it was then and there that we really appreciated the importance of liberty and being liberated. 

The center where we worked was sponsored by the Church of England and the local Bishop was on our board. He was a regular visitor to the center; however, he would return to his Ivory Tower after his visits. 

Other religious folks we encountered were the Dutch catholic priest and the Italian nuns. Those Catholics were a different breed all together. One of our favorite story was about father Meindert van Acht, the brother of the Dutch prime minister at the time, who we frequently visited. One day, just after we arrived at his remote village on the slopes of Mount Elgon, a 14,000-foot-tall volcano located between Uganda and Kenya, we sat on his porch and watched him exiting his church. He had just finished mass. There he came, walking towards us with the bible under one arm and a crowbar under the other, a sight to behold, a priest, the brother of the second most important person of the Netherlands, in a tattered and torn robe with these two items under his arms. We never asked him if and if so, how, he used the crowbar in his service. 

Father Meindert had one request, which was that he did not want any visitors on Tuesdays because that was his weekly whiskey night, so he did not need an excuse to drink. All other days were great. The guest room was always open, and, in the evening, he would break out the mass wine or some additional whiskey for his visitors and himself. During visit with the Italian nuns at a Leprosy Center in Jinja in north central Uganda we always enjoyed fine Italian wines and good conversation. 

But it was not always fun and games or drinking to excess. It was a form of stress relief in a country where it was very difficult to work in. It was a country where we saw a lot of murders, assassinations, political and social injustice, and where we all tried to work with those folks who were oppressed and looked down upon. We youngsters, in our early and mid-20s, were in awe at what the missionaries were doing, how they were living, coping, and surviving. They lived alone; we were in a group of 6 Dutch folks who could give each other at least some mutual support. They were outwardly happy, content, even keeled and at peace with themselves and their god. I guess that is what their belief did to them. 

In those days we had not yet learned about those words “social justice” or another word called “liberation theology” that Father Meindert and his compatriots were practicing in the villages of Uganda or elsewhere in the developing world. 

Liberation Theology was first introduced by the Uruguayan Priest Juan Luis Segundo Gutiérrez in 1971. In his book “A Theology of Liberation” Gutiérrez proposed that the true task of theology was not to declare pristine abstract truths, rather ‘only by doing this truth will our faith be “verified.”’ At that time Gutiérrez and other liberation theologists in Africa, Central and South America were struggling to bridge the gulf between divine justice and social justice, trying to address the reality of human suffering and confront their own discipline. Some of them were trying to approach the Bible from the perspective of the powerless. 

In the opinion of the liberation theologists, the church should be a movement for those who were denied their rights and plunged into such poverty. Folk that were deprived of their full status as human beings. Liberation theologists were of the opinion that the poor should take the example of Jesus and use it to bring about a just society. 

A common way in which priests and nuns showed their solidarity with the poor was to move from religious houses into poverty-stricken areas to share the living conditions of their flock. The nuns that operated the leprosy center in Jinja and the Dutch fathers that were operating the boys orphanage in Mbale a town to the south of us or father Meindert on Mount Elgon, were working with folks that were either down on their luck, from a tribe that was on the fringes of society, the poor and the sick, or just simple outcasts. They were not the pious religious priests from my memory growing up on a Caribbean island, but real down to earth people who served the communities they were working in. They were not there to save souls; at least they never expressed that to us. 

Regretfully, we did see some missionaries from some other denominations in Kenya whose interest seemed only to be there to save souls in an effort to stroke themselves, somehow still living in their ivory tower, and seemed less interested in social justice. 

Most controversially, the Liberationists said the church should act to bring about social change and should ally itself with the working class to do so. Some radical priests became involved in politics and trade unions; others even aligned themselves with violent revolutionary movements. They were often accused of spreading or at least preaching the revolution, socialism or even worse, communism. As the Argentine theologian José Míguez Bonino said it was the revolutionary challenge of those who boldly proclaimed: “Jesus Christ is Che Guevara.” Liberation theologists were often not accepted by their regular church and told to shape up. Some tried to moderate it a bit with statements such as: “love for the poor should be preferential, not exclusive.” Things finally changed a little bit with the new Pope who led a less opulent lifestyle and paid more attention to the poor and sick. 

Although we live in a free country, even here in the US there are different levels of being free, isn’t there? If you are white, have money and often if you are male (especially a white male), you seem to be freer then others. It should therefore not be a surprise that even here in the U.S. liberation theology took root. The Protestant African-American theologian James Cone wrote in his 1970 book entitled A Black Theology of Liberation: ‘If God is not for us, if God is not against white racists, then God is a murderer and we had better kill God.’ Black religion, Cone asserted, began not with an abstraction but with the acknowledgment that ‘God is Black’ and present in the experience of black people, from the slave auction block to the urban ghetto. Others argue that that the Bible assigning a male gender to God was the original justification for the patriarchy. This was discussed by the feminist theologian Mary Daly in her book Beyond God the Father which was published in 1973. 

I travel a lot around the state and get to see the economically and environmentally depressed areas of the state, both black and white. The inner city and the Appalachian region. This is one of those things we have been trying to address this in our community as part of our social justice commitment. Here at the UUFP we have a social justice table that we can visit during coffee hours and find out about worthwhile causes. We go to marches; we have a black lives matter banner outside; you name it. But let’s not forget the other causes out there as well. 

We UUs have a rich history of social justice, ranging from our stand against slavery, to the voter registration in the south in 60s and 70s, to our support of the Black Lives Matter movement, to our push for gender equality, equal rights, marriage equality, and to the social justice committees that you find in almost all the UU churches and fellowships throughout the country. Social justice does not stop there, we are also concerned about environmental justice. 

After working in the 3rd world, the freedom to move around, to think what you want, to express it to friends and family, freedom of association, or even think to yourself and not be in doubt. All the things that makes me so happy to be a citizen of this country, to be a member of our UU religion, and especially of this fellowship. The UU’s 6th Principle which promotes: THE GOAL OF WORLD COMMUNITY WITH PEACE, LIBERTY, AND JUSTICE FOR ALL is so darn important to me after what we experienced in Uganda and the other countries, we have worked in. It also makes me scared of the things I see happening around me or what has happened, but at the same time hopeful about the countercurrent that is occurring as well. 

Remember, today social justice can mean different things for different religions and we need to watch out for false prophets. For example, some will even claim that preventing a woman’s right to choose is a form of social justice. Competing claims of being on God’s or at least the right side are testing the limits of a liberal social order straining to accommodate militant believers. Our fourth principle tells us that we: A free and responsible search for truth and meaning. This is something many dogmatic religions don’t allow; it is something totalitarian governments try to suppress, like the one we experienced in Uganda. Let’s use it wisely in defending it and applying to our efforts in social and environmental justice. 

That is what I try to do throughout my life, and I know many of you do. I had the privilege to get an education, but I try never to be condescending to anyone and share my knowledge with all who want to hear it. We are not rich but contribute to the church and other worthwhile causes both monetarily and by volunteering. We are socially active when we can and marched for women, for science, the environment and for gun control. All I can say is to stay true to yourself, like father Meindert, the Italian nuns, and the many liberation theologists and try to address the human suffering around us and in particular the suffering of those who are socially, economically, environmentally and racially disadvantaged. 

I believe we all can learn from the example the liberation theologists gave us and incorporate them in the way we live our UU faith.

Donna and I visiting one of the male nurses and his family at his home in the village in Uganda

Invocation:

Rev. Karen G. Johnston

Do not be alone right now...

Gathering together grows courage...

These things add up: your one thing & my one thing; his one thing & their one thing & her one thing…

Do not be alone right now. Do not let me be alone. Any liberation – all liberation — is collective liberation. My freedom is bound with yours and yours with mine. Inextricably...

Reading:
The Gift— Hafiz, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

We have not come here to take prisoners,
But to surrender ever more deeply
To freedom and joy.

We have not come into this exquisite world
To hold ourselves hostage from love.

Run my dear,
From anything
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings.

Run like hell my dear,
From anyone likely
To put a sharp knife
Into the sacred, tender vision
Of your beautiful heart.

We have a duty to befriend
Those aspects of obedience
That stand outside of our house
And shout to our reason
’O please, O please,
Come out and play.’

For we have not come here to take prisoners
Or to confine our wondrous spirits,

But to experience ever and ever more deeply
Our divine courage, freedom, and Light!”


Benediction:Barack Obama

Change will not come if we wait for some other person, or if we wait for some other time.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
We are the change that we seek.

So how is your first pandemic going? (3/30/2020)

So how is your first pandemic going? At least for many of us it is, unless you are 102 years old and reading this darn blog, and if you do, you are out of your mind. I guess I am not counting HIV, SARS, Ebola and whatever else we had between 1918 and now. I am not telling you that those were not severe, but this one eats the cake. 

I have been social distancing for two weeks and a couple of days now. At least I get to see my wife at the end of the day. When I walk the dog, I get to see the regular folks walking down the street, and we greet each other from a distance. I also get to say hello to my coworkers every day during our check-in. This weekend we had a virtual dinner date with friends where we sat down on “WhatsApp” and had dinner together. Then we had a Zoom church service and a Zoom church meeting afterwards. While fun, rewarding and satisfying, nothing beats a one on one meeting with friends or colleagues. So, euphemistically, I will keep calling it house arrest. 

So how else do I cope with it all? I noticed that I am reading more. I am really enjoying a book entitled “The Invention of Nature, Alexander von Humboldt’s new world” by Andrea Wulf. I have increased my time on the social networks, watch more bonsai video podcasts and while in the beginning I did watch more news, that has diminished somewhat over time. I know the drill now, I know it will be a matter of time we are all going to get Covid-19, or the Corona virus. 

Why am I so certain about catching the darn virus? I think it is unavoidable. I just hope that I don’t catch it when the virus is at its peak, and I need to fight someone for a ventilator. I also hope that when I get it, they figured out what the medicine is to treat it, or maybe that they have developed a vaccine. Lastly, viruses that don’t mutate very fast, and this one does not seem to do that, are supposed to lose their potency or virulence after some time; that is after replicating in other people’s body over and over. In other words, the famous flattening of the curve. But enough of that. I want to report how my life in the pandemic is going. 

It was nice this week to be able to get out twice. I quickly ran out to mail two letters, get fertilizer for my bonsais and medicine for Jake the dog. It was nice to see people in real life, let me tell you. The second time was to take my father-in-law to the ophthalmologist. I stayed in the car but managed to sneak away to the Starbucks drive through for a cup of coffee. A real treat after two weeks without a Starbucks visit! It felt awkward to drive; the roads were relatively empty, except of course the drive-through at Starbucks. I think it took me 10 or 15 minutes to get through it. But it was worth it. 

Finally!  My first store bought Starbucks in a cardboard cup in two weeks!  I missed that face so much.

At home, life has changed; I have graduated from weekend cook to almost fulltime cook. I bake bread whenever I think it is needed. In the past it was mostly on Fridays. I am now the main dog walker and do not have any issue getting my daily 10,000 steps in. 

The latest bread I made: an 80% biga bread.  We are really enjoying this one.

While as a boy from the tropics I do like the heat, I don’t like it that it is getting warm that quickly, because it means that tick and mosquito season is almost here. It means that our back yard and the woods behind our home are going to be that haven for those pesky critters again. It means either pesticides on your body or no more walks in the woods until sometime in October. No we do not treat our yard, because we have bees. It means walking through the neighborhood with all its excitement as I mentioned in a previous blog post <here>. But truthfully walking in the neighborhood is fun. You learn a lot about talking with your neighbors; you need some social interaction. 

Probably the strangest thing is that I have taken up the routine of showering around 4 pm in the afternoon. It was something my mother used to do, and I am not sure if it is genetically ingrained or why it is. There are not many things that my mother did that I am particularly proud off and would like to mimic. However, it allows us to sleep a little later, get the coffee going and my wife of to work and get my day started. On top of that I always remember overhearing Jo-Jo, a female co-worker of mine in the 1990s telling Kathrine, another female co-worker how she would never allow a man sleep in her bed who had not showered before getting in bed. Moreover, if he blew his nose in the shower (without a tissue I assume), he would be kicked out of the house immediately; I am not sure if she even allowed him to put his clothes on. The idea of getting in bed clean always stood with me; I wonder if that is why my mother did it. But sorry, I do blow my nose in the shower; I know, this is too much information. 

I have cleared this nose in plenty of showers and sinks in my life and will continue doing so.

Oh well, just reaching out to all my readers about my (and your) fucking first pandemic experiences. Are we worried? Not for ourselves as much as for our 93-year-old father-in-law who is getting more and more depressed in self isolation. Hope you are all doing well medically, physically and mentally. Hope you all have enough toilet paper and have not yet killed a spouse, kid, pet or other loved one (canary?). Stay tuned and let me know how things are going with you.

Spring is springing (3/26/2020)

Spring is springing and it is springing more crap than I had ever hoped for:

1. Yes, we have the regular allergies and pollen raining down. The world is slowly turning yellow. It is raining and our runoff leaves a yellow ring around the collar (or the high-water marks).
2. Of course, we are all impacted by the corona virus. Whatever you think about it, who’s fault it is, you name it. I have my biases and I may hint about them below (but then if you are a regular reader it should not surprise you). 
3. As part of the virus and my age, I am stuck at home, teleworking 5 days a week. This is a different experience. 
4. For a person my age, I have been sort of ordered form the Governor that I should shelter in place and not get out unless completely necessary. This brave person went out for the first time this past Saturday after 10 days “house arrest” and again the other morning to pick up medicine for Jake, who is still hanging on. 
5. And now for the kicker, word came down that we need to start using the hotel points that we accumulate during our travels for the state to book hotel stays for the state, instead of using for our own. 

It is this last point that has me bent out of shape today. It seems to be the result of a complaint by and unethical employee who was fired because of her unethical conduct. Now the State Inspector General seems to be changing the policy for all state employees because of the complaint by one unethical person who obviously had a grudge. Again, it seems to be a complaint filed by an anonymous employee as way to get even. She is as disgruntled employee; and remember to get fired from the state is difficult; you can murder someone and not get fired. 

So, I had to work on a spreadsheet detailing all the points I had accumulated over time. Moreover, now I am being issued a state credit card so I cannot even accumulate points for my travel on my personal credit card. 

Yes, I am sure there will be a lot of you who will be pulling out that tinny violin out for me and start playing it, telling me that if I don’t like it, to get the hell out off Dodge. When I was working for industry, I never had to do that; I was allowed, actually encouraged, to use my hotel points for private travel. And yes, I guess I should go back to industry and go from protecting the environment to not giving a damn or at least being cavalier about it; or maybe I should retire. Retirement would be great, were it not for a presidential mismanagement of a Corona virus pandemic; mismanagement that somehow screwed up my retirement plans. So, fuck you all, I’ll be occupying a job of some unemployed guy until me IRA is back to the level it was a month ago, unless the Corona virus gets me first. That is even though I don’t get free hotel stays any longer for being away from home night after night. 

One of the ponds behind our home.  You can see the yellow pollen ring around the the base of the trees growing in the water.

Well some spring it is. Although I am under “house arrest” I can go for walks in the abandoned woods in the back of our home. My outdoors bonsais have all been repotted, nature is awakening, fresh bread came out of the oven, I am teleworking, and I still have innovative ideas. I just need to make sure that I get credit for those new ideas (but more about that some other time). There still is a lot to celebrate in these anxious times. Let me know how you are doing! To all my readers, wash your hands, try to be positive, love thy neighbors, stay healthy, and be well.

My little quince cutting that I have been trying to grow is finally taking off and is flowering this spring.  Crazy but fun.

Hotels 2: Lynchburg (3/13/2020)

Another trip out into the hinterlands of Virginia. This time I graced Lynchburg with a visit. Lynchburg’s claim to fame of course is Liberty University which was started by the reverent Jerry Falwell. Passing by Lynchburg over the past 20 years has been an amazing sight; that university has grown by leaps and bounds and is now ready to enter the big league. 

From what I understand, the university has its religious quirks. I am not sure about it all, and I will not describe it here, but as I understand it there seems to have a fairly strict religious ethical code and people are required to go to general assembly and religious gatherings. It is really interesting and almost perversely sexy to visit the local Starbucks and watch all the young college girls studying or discussing the bible; something this atheist does not encounter in many Starbucks shops around the State; and let me tell you, I visit a lot of Starbucks stores. 

All the conservative (read Republican) presidential candidates with any ambition make sure to stop by Liberty University and give a speech. Old Jerry died and Jerry Jr. is now in charge of the University; but they still pay their respect to the president of Liberty University. Recently, Mr. Falwell was in the news when he did not like the newly democratic state legislature and in particular their stance on gun control. Mr. Falwell suggested that parts of Virginia that did not agree with their decisions should succeed and join West Virginia. This made him the laughingstock of the state. Oh well. 

I took this photograph during my walk through downtown Lynchburg.  They have a great elevated walk, almost like a boardwalk but without the beach and the boards that overlook the James River valley.  There are all kinds of warehouses along the trail that are being reclaimed for more useful purposes including restaurants, shops, offices and condos(?).  I took this picture to mock the succession talks and to show I was still in Virginia.

So here I had to spend two nights in Lynchburg. I always used to stay at the Holiday Inn downtown. It is not the best place, but it is ok. I really love the downtown of Lynchburg; it has character, great restaurants, and safe to walk. I got an email from Holiday Inn about a month before my visit that they had broken ties with that particular hotel and the hotel was no longer part of the Holiday Inn chain. Since I accumulate loyalty points I decided to look if there was a Hilton downtown, the other hotel chain that I use. 

Hilton had a hotel downtown, the Virginian. The hotel is part of the Curio chain, something I had never tried. Well, I was not disappointed! This was a great place to hang out and to stay. What luxury. The hotel has a nice breakfast (and lunch?) counter with a restaurant bar on the roof. There is a nice restaurant on the lower level. I only tried the breakfast area and enjoyed it. The rooms are luxurious. You even get a robe although I really did not need it. The bed was great and in one-word, things were good. Being in town in a taller building traffic noise was somewhat amplified but it was all very tolerable. 

My "Hopper shot" of the motel room at the Curio by Hilton that I was staying in.  Again, I was very happy and satisfied with my stay at the hotel and in Lynchburg. 

The room without me and a better view of the bed.

The first night I ate alone at Bootleggers. This was the second time I ate there, and the food was good. Thank goodness they had something else than burgers on the menu. Their beer selection was great. The Depot grill was on tap for my second night. I was joined by my friend and colleague Doug, who lives in Lynchburg.  I had been avoiding this place since a disappointing visit 6 years ago. Funny how you do that. Well, they redeemed themselves. Dinner was enjoyable and the waitstaff was great. In all, I had a good two day visit to Lynchburg. 

Now for some depressing news. This will be my last trip for 30 days. The department I work for has cancelled all classes (and trips) for the next 30 days as part of the state of emergency in the effort to slow down the spread of the Corona virus and the associated COVID-19. So, my young hotel series is going on a hiatus. I will continue blogging and hopefully will come out alive on the other end.