Travel Notes and Observations

I am finally ensconced in Southern California for a few weeks and can report the winter jacket is hanging in the closet and the golf shirts are ready for periodic use.

At the risk of rubbing it in for my Northeast friends, today was 77º and sunny. It is actually the first real warm and sunny day since my travels began at the end of January.

I am feeling a little more than my age these days because of my proximity to the graying humanity in this community. I am staying at a very nice gated golf community and my observation so far has seen very few young folks, in fact, I haven’t seen any, which inspires me to think about age and aging.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote:

"For Age is an oppportunity no less

than youth itself, though in another dress.

And as the evening twilight fades away

The sky is fitted with stars, invisible by day."

And the Dalai Lama had some wise words for those of us who are getting on. He wrote:

“While we exist as human beings,

we are like tourists on holiday. If we play

havoc and cause disturbance our visit is

meaningless. If during our short stay -100

years at most-we live peacefully, help others

and, at the very least, refrain from harming or

upsetting them, our visit is worthwhile. What

is important is to see how we can best lead a

meaningful life, how we can bring about peace

and harmony in our minds, how we can help

contribute to society.”

I trust your day and days are perfect and happy and that the seeming passage of time is an illusion.

Facts and Opinion

A digression from traveling:

When I started writing this Blog and in fact when I started writing commentaries a number of years ago, I decided I would try to offer an alternative way of looking at a situation, an issue, an action, or a belief.

While I still try to hold to that personal ethic, it is often difficult to do so especially when those in leadership positions choose ignorance over intelligence. Unfortunately it happens everyday and everywhere because opinionated righteousness demands, not only a personal validation, but a vindication from suspicion of being wrong.

To me stated facts demand validation and so few today immersed in their political or spiritual beliefs, seek the confirmation attainable in common sense or astute research. Many people prefer either the false verification of blind faith or hold a blind allegiance that gives only momentary strength to an empty belief.

Untruths never matter when the result brings about what you politically desire. To me a logical and even fair motto for all of us, is don’t send junk mail out until you personally check it. Partisen legislators and some of their constituents are willing to stand for what they think is true, not for what is true.

Friends

I am leaving the comfort of good friends and generous hospitality in Arizona and heading to California to connect with other good friends and complete my journey across America. Some of the folks I will see are newer friends and some have a fine season on them, all are honored and loved.

I remember when I was in high school a teacher said to the class that we would be lucky to have five good friends in our lifetime. I thought he was crazy and looked around at all the kids I called friends.

As one moves from teenage years to the twenties, into the thirties and decades beyond, the experience validates the high school teacher's statement.

People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Five good longtime friends are unique. I’m certain I have five and more and I am very lucky.

Friendship begins with humor, fun light-hearted one-liners and grows rapidly through mutual interests into a bond of trust, truth and honesty. In the trust, there is a deep mutual respect for the gifts of the other. In the truth, there is the acknowledgement that if one succeeds in anything, both do and in the honesty, there is a simple sharing of the pain and pleasure of life.

I hope you are as fortunate as I am.

Weather Again!

Since I have been experiencing cold weather on my journey across America and today I have a little down time, I did a little research.

I’ve learned that daily weather knowledge is relatively new to humankind.

Aristotle was the first person to write a comprehensive book on the weather. It remained the standard work for nearly 2000 years. People just didn't do much scientific thinking about the clouds and the winds.

There weren't any significant changes until the invention of scientific instruments: Leonardo da Vinci's wind vane in 1500, Galileo's thermometer in 1593, The first weather map wasn't even drawn until 1820.

When I first started in broadcasting I did the evening weather on a local television station. I didn’t know a thing about weather. The Associated Press would send out a national weather map and I would copy it on a big map outline of the United States. I used pieces of colored tape to create frontal systems and large discs with H’s and L’s on them for high pressure and low-pressure systems. Very primitive.

Today we have meteorologists to expertly predict and explain the weather. We like to think we're pretty advanced. We've had weather satellites in orbit since 1959. There is a nationwide system of automatic weather monitoring stations that feeds information directly to a central computer. All very sophisticated.

Some people take weather forecasting a bit further. The Germans have "biometeorological advisories." Weather forecasters explain how the weather will affect people. What it does to their emotions, their health, even their ability to work safely.

German doctors can receive a daily coded report from the weather service. It warns them of the types of ills the weather is likely to cause. It seems they have determined that cold fronts increase the number of coronaries, migraines and gall bladder attacks. Cloudiness, warm fronts and heat lightening seem to cause more work related mistakes.

The weather even alters how quickly we heal. So it is not unusual for German surgeons to schedule operations for sunny days.

I wonder when they play golf.

Arizona

Dateline: Arizona

Misnomers about Arizona:

1. It’s warm.

I arrived into Arizona from New Mexico and it was 32º and snowing. Granted I was at 6-thousand feet, but this is ARIZONA. Loosely translated as “Arid-Zone”, meaning dry, desert, presumable warm etc.

2. It’s warm.

A few hours later I’m in Phoenix. 56º. When I left the northeast it was 5º. That is only a 49 degrees difference and it is not enough to make me happy. In fact it has been above 65º only once since this exploration of America began that traveled the south to Florida and then westward along the gulf coast.

3. It’s dry.

For the last couple of days I have seen nothing but intermittent rain showers, some torrential downpours. It didn’t last long, but it was rain in this desert.

4. Did I mention it’s not warm here?

I’m spending some time with long time, good friends in Chandler, Arizona. It’s always a pleasure to see and be with them for our kids grew up together in northern New Jersey many years ago.

I have visited the Phoenix area many times over the years. I like its feel. It is modern, clean, and seemingly conservative with shades of maverick liberalism. And like so many areas of America today it is economically effected by the current recession.

The home values in this region are half of what they use to be 18 months ago. There is much criticism here that the government has not done enough to help in releasing bail out funds from the banks to help refinance common homeowners.

It is my observation that there is a common concern all across America about the lack of bipartisan cooperation in Congress. The feeling seems to be that our representatives are more concerned with contentious politics than they are concerned for the greater good of the country.

Congress take note. I’m hearing more and more sentiments of throw them all out and start over.

Be well everyone.

PS Did mention it’s not warm here?

Posi-ouinge-Pueblo

Not far from the Ojo Caliente spa is an ancient Pueblo called Posi-ouinge. (Po-see-o-wing-gay).

It is the ancestral home of the Tewa Indians.

Oral histories from the Tewa tell us Posi-ouinge was their home for centuries until an epidemic struck and the elders decided the people should depart.

The Tewa are descendants of prehistoric peoples who lived in the Ojo Caliente drainage during the late 1300s until the 1500s, just before the Spanish entered the area searching for gold.

I spent a couple of hours hiking to this special site and experienced an atavistic knowing, a feeling of life energy embedded in the land.

There is nothing left of the massive adobe homes the people built. Archaeologists speculate the adobes had two and three stories and probably had a thousand rooms to accommodate hundreds of people.

Today there is nothing left but small indentations in the land where Kiva ceremonial holes once existed. The ground is festooned with scattered shards of broken pottery, most no bigger than a potato chip.

I walked slowly to take in the moment. The Stag horn cacti were in yellow bloom and the blue sky streaked with aircraft contrails; a reality contrast to the vibration of the land and its ancient people.

One of their songs says:

Long ago in the north

Lies the road of our emergence!

Yonder our ancestors live

Yonder we take our being.

I leave Friday and head to places in Arizona. I hope you join me.

Poetic Inspiration

Earth's water rises from within
Releasing places that we’ve been;
Relaxing body, mind and soul
So once again the spirit’s whole

Old mineral springs both hot and cool,
Bring steam and flow to gentle pools
Creating balance ‘tween all things
For water’s sound lets nature sing.

The Posi Pueblo is nearby
Though gone and crumbled to the eye,
Yet ancient spirits roam the land
To keep it sacred with the sand.

I know there are the ancients here,
The kind that humans do not fear.
I sense their wisdom in this place
That benefits the human race.

When I am gone from here and earth
I’ll roam this land in spirit’s birth.
If mortal life returns to me,
Return I will on bended knee.

Healing Waters

I’ve arrived at Ojo Caliente, New Mexico. It is a mineral springs spa with a long history. I plan to relax and meditate for a few days before resuming my back road journey to Southern California.

I am told this is a sacred place visited by the native peoples of the region perhaps for a thousand years.

I don’t doubt it. I feel it already after soaking in the mineral springs; my mind wanders to spiritual wonder.

In order to ultimately embrace the truth and shed illusions every journey must slay the dragons of need in the caves of self-creation. Modern dragons can manifest as cell phones, briefcases, contracts and worry. Life’s dragons can only be slain by taking the time to BE instead of BECOMING something. We are called human BEINGS afterall, not human BECOMINGS. Living in the moment makes it a little easier to slay the demons.

I’ve invited you to join me on this simple journey across America to see your own journey through the sharing of mine.

Remember, when you are mired in the density of frustration or unclear in your choices you are more than you seem, as I am more than I seem, for each of us is the culmination of our ancestors genes built upon the foundation of mortal experience and the profound divine gift of choice.

From this special place comes blessings from the ancient ones who live forever in the universal light of these hot springs.

Already they ask that I take from this place inspiration and express it as beauty. They ask that I remember their gifts to us: dappled light purified and enriched by the filtering forests, grand vistas and rocky cliffs. They remind me that every gentle flower scented breeze connects our human spirit to the Gaia spirit. All the ancient ones ask that we remember the rhythm, the chant, the atavistic dance that links us to the Source, to the All That Is, the beneficence of so many names.

Namaste.

Skunks and Vistas

Going from the Texas hill country into the mesas and desert flats of the northwest part of the state is some of the most beautiful country America has to offer to the eye. The far distant mountains are indeed “purple” looking and majesties above the fruited plain.

I know there were trails for the early settlers to slowly move across the land, but what about the first wagon and the first scout? How did they do it? Rand McNally was not around at the time. The vastness of the prairie and the immensity of the rising mountains belittles the mind as to how the pioneers did it.

I must have driven a hundred miles before I saw more than three cars. North and South lanes slid side-by-side for mile and after mile, no median just a yellow line, speed limit 80-MPH.

Not to be pedantic about my linear observations, but I did pass or smell 24 dead skunks or what was left of them on the roadway. Either Texas has a plethora of Skunks or it’s the mating season and road 285 was their river Styx.

The temperature hovered around 45º most of the day as I headed into southern New Mexico on my way to Roswell. Yes, that one! Aliens, flying saucers, and alleged government cover-ups of captured space ships.

I’ve always wanted to come here. Maybe my Pleiadian ancestry wants gratification. Some folks think the human race was seeded from visitors from that star system. I do know one thing about the Pleiades. Everyone was named Smith.

I’m here for the overnight and then onto Ojo Caliente.

Thanks for tuning in. Next is either a time warp, an alien abduction or a Mexican restaurant.

PS It turned out to be Italian.

Louisiana to Texas

Monday morning observations collected between New Orleans and Junction, Texas.

New Orleans: Partying like that in the cold with costumes, make-up and consuming alcohol is truly for the young. Well, the costumes and make-up are. Some of the get-ups were outrageous. I wondered if their Mothers knew what they wore and what they did.

Getting out of New Orleans early Saturday was more than a drag. It was a dead stop when everyone tried to cross the Mississippi. Apparently there was some serious accident.  Interstate 10 west was a dead stop for over an hour and there was no other way unless you headed 150 miles north to Natchez.  I didn’t.

When the road finally opened I headed for Houston, Texas and a visit with long time friends. I like Houston. I’d never been there before. It was clean and modern. The buildings meshed like a Solari design.

Yesterday it was off to Austin via the back roads for lunch with another old friend and then onto Junction City.  It is truly named for where it is. Nowhere. It’s a bunch of roads coming together at a point as they cross the Texas hill country. Junction’s population is 26-hundred.

I thought it was small until I remembered the population of where I live in rural New York is only eight hundred. Maybe the eastern trees hide people better and you think there are more of us. Out west, people live in the open and if you drive slow enough you can see what they leave on their front porches.

I had dinner…ah something to eat rather, at a BBQ eatery and gas station combined. It was quintessential Americana and so different from what I am used to. I ordered a BBQ brisket on a hamburger bun and found a picnic table in the front. A couple of Texas families sat eating nearby. Their cowboy hats stayed on while eating piles of food on Styrofoam plates.

I bought a candy bar for dessert and headed to the motel thinking about our cultural differences and our human similarities. The miracle of a shared citizenship is not our oneness. It's the many differences within a common belief of freedom and liberty to be whatever we choose.

More tomorrow

Back up one state

Now that I am in New Orleans, Louisiana and celebrating pre-Marti Gras. I can report that the food is excellent, the people are more than friendly and the weather is lousy. Cold, rain with some sleet and I have yet to see a really warm day since I left the northeast nearly two weeks ago.

My day was spent doing some busy work things and checking accommodations for the next several days. I do remember one story that I was going to mention when traveling through Mississippi.


There was a news story a while back about a guy in Mississippi who was arrested for public drunkeness for the 625th time. His name was Al Stewart. One way to tell what  happened to Al is with a limerick.

     There was a young man from old Miss.
     Arrested for alcohol bliss.
     He'd done it before
     and the judge would roar,
     Three days behind bars...you're dismissed.

     On Wednesday, it happened again.
     Al Stewart was drunk from the gin.
     The tally does mount.
     The clerk keeps the count,
     It's binge 625, he grinned.

     From the bench came ranting and rail
     the judge gave him eight months in jail.
     Al picked up a chair
     flung it in the air,
     toward the judge, it left a contrail.

     Now Stewart is pacing the floor
     and sees double locks on the door.
     First he was tackled
     then bound and shackled,
     being sober won't help anymore.

     From the bench, came the quid pro quo.
     Al Steward must reap what he sowed.
     It won't be a chair,
     the judge did declare
     for Al, it's the book, I do throw.

"Norleans"

I arrived in New Orleans early yesterday afternoon. This town is into celebrating the Saints win at the super bowl, next week's Mardi Gras and the election of a new mayor. That’s probably the order of importance in the celebration.

I took the back roads again from Alabama into Louisiana passing through Mississippi. I chose to go through Pascagoula, Mississippi. I’ve been saying that tongue-twisting name on the air for various stories for nearly 50-years so I had to see what the place was like. Its principal industries are ship building and oil refining and a lot of memories of better times. Hurricane Katrina did some heavy devastation to the area and so did closing a naval base several years ago.

Now to New Orleans. In many ways the city of New Orleans ought to change its name to Phoenix after the mythical bird that dies and arises out of the ashes of destruction. Katrina nearly ruined this city and its people five years ago. It is now surviving and functioning as before the hurricane.

I’ve been here two times before. Once for Marti Gras when I was co-hosting the CBS Morning Program in 1987 and later for a convention. If partying had another name New Orleans would be it and not just Marti Gras.

I will be out of here before the main event starts on Sunday and goes through Fat Tuesday.

I’ve already sampled some crawfish and a beignet, some tuna tartar, braised short ribs and a couple of wines. Wonderful!

More tomorrow maybe. It depends on my partying.

Weather and Soap

I'm nestled in Daphne, Alabama. It is a quaint bayside community with a modern presence. I got here late yesterday afternoon and found a reasonable hotel. The clerk says the low temperature for tonight is expected to be 27º. That's not what I expected coming to the south. Traveling across the long panhandle length of Florida the temperature never got past 57º. I kept checking to see if I was really in Florida.

With only a slight smile I listened to the forecast for the middle atlantic states and my neighboring states in the northeast. You've got near blizzard conditions and google amounts of snow and you have my sympathy.

I did enjoy waking to the sound of surf yesterday morning in Destin, Florida. I'd never seen the gulf coast before and like all the other coasts I've experience it was delightful.

I wonder why we are attracted to the sea. I read an article once that suggested it was because we evolved from the sea and it is an atavistic symmetry that calls us back to its sound, aroma and rhythmic tides. I don't know about that, but maybe it's because we are 80% water ourselves. Since likes attract, maybe that's it.

I also have a wonder question. I've been staying in various hotels on my travels. I'm wondering what happens to all the used soap that people leave behind a daily basis. The average hotel room rental per diem in America is nearly 290-thousand. That's a lot of soap. Where does it go?

On my way to New Orleans.

A Sea of Shuttle Seers.

I spent the last few nights with good friends in Titusville, Florida. I had hoped to see the last Space Shuttle launch at night, but it was scrubbed because of cloud cover on the first night. It did go off the next night, but travel requirements and good sense prevented me from getting up at 3AM again to find a place to watch the launch as I did the first night.


Even though the Endeavor did not launch on early Sunday morning it was fascinating to watch and participate in the throngs of humanity. People came from all over the world to Titusville's route one to camp, park their RV's, drive to and stand and wait for mission control's Cap Com to call the go or no go minutes before the launch. Cape Canaveral is two or three miles across the bay from Titusville. You can see the launch tower clearly and the lights of the space port.

People, who had them, used their aircraft band radios to listen to the chatter at NASA HQ to pilots who reported the cloud ceiling and other conditions that might affect the launch. Other people listened to local radio stations that broadcast all the launches and then turned their car or RV radios to loud so all in the vicinity could hear.

It was magnificent. It was an American experience. There was no boisterous drinking and no being rowdy. There was respect and reverence for the event and even profound regret when the launch was cancelled because of a low cloud ceiling.

Once the scrub decision was announced it was pandemonium to get vehicles out of the ad hoc viewing sights all along the busy road. There were miles and miles of people, cars, and motorcycles trying to get somewhere. The old, the young, families with little children came to see the launch, but then everyone tried to leave at once. There was no police presence that I could see. A distance that normally would take ten minutes to drive took two hours to accomplish. It was wonderful.

It is unfortunate that launches into space these days have become commonplace and media coverage is blasé at best and limited or nothing at worst. I remember when the USSR launched "Sputnik" in the late 1950's. The world was stunned and America was embarrassed that we didn't do it first. We made up for it with the man on the moon project.

Every launch today is a testimony to America's greatness. It is a tribute to the intellect, ingenuity and talent of our people. I didn't see the launch, but then again, I did through the hopes, and awe of the thousands who come to every launch.

More from my travels on the highways and back roads of America. Tomorrow the Gulf Coast heading to New Orleans.

SuperBowl 44.

Some limerick thoughts this morning on Super Bowl forty four.

With pride the fans came to the bowl,
believing their team could control,
   The ball on the ground,
   in the air around,
But just for one the bell would toll.

Some think it’s the ultimate game,
With the players getting the fame
   Bowl Forty and four,
   Some wanted some more,
Next year will the teams be the same?

Today it's the loosers with woes
and healing the scrimmaging blows
   With media hypes,
   And one or two snipes
The losers, their bragging, now stowed.

Reporters were witty and bright,
covering each side with delight.
The Colts and the Saints
Their might be complaints
With loosers accepting their plight.

In this life of struggle and fears,
In this time of terror and tears
   We needed this game,
   to help us stay sane
Miami did send us the cheers.

The season is over and done,
the heart never caring who won,
   The game is the thing,
   by hoping to bring
a code of competitive fun.

Savannah

Dateline: Savannah

Maybe rain on the way.

This is  a delightful city. No wonder it is called Savannah. You cross a wide and marshy plain before you enter the proverbial gates of the city. There are no gates, but the city rises out of the flat plain and  there is history galore.  The city is nestled at the northeastern edge of Georgia. The Savannah River separates it from South Carolina.

Getting here was easy. The back roads once again carried me past the homes and marshlands of South Carolina into this thriving port city.

The South has a mystique about it and I'm not sure northerners can understand it. It smiles along with its inhabitants and there is a grace that soothes, you can feel it. I've often wondered if people make the place where they live or if the place conditions their demeanor? I suppose a little of both.

What I find here is a willingness to take life a little slower. People seem to have a joyful experience of just living. They also have a ambient courtesy that is evident in every exchange whether mercantile or just passing by. I like that.

More as my journey progresses.

Back Roads

Dateline: Charleston, SC

Some differences between North and South.

Traveling to here has been an experience and an education. I drove the back roads instead of the interstate highways. It takes about an hour longer in travel time, but the scenery is authentic Americana, not interstate sanitized.

I remember years ago when Lady Bird Johnson, then the First Lady of the United States, created a campaign to beautify the interstate highway system by eliminating junkyards and billboards. Granted, it’s beautiful, but it’s the same mile after mile and you have no idea of cultural or social change from one state to the other.

The back roads, through villages and towns is truly America. It is both quaint and depressing and strip-mall speckled into the sameness of names. McDonalds, Arby’s, Applebee’s and Wal-Mart.

One of the big differences between North and South is pronunciation. We are one people separated by a common language. Misunderstanding occurs in the ear. In the south everything begins with, “Yuall” and continues with undistinguishable words. I tried to find something at a convenience store and I couldn't understand what the clerk was saying.

Charleston, SC is a wonderful city. I got to see Fort Sumter for the first time. It's the place where the civil war began. It's actually a little piece of the northern rock. In 1827 they imported 70 thousand tons of New England granite to build-up a sand bar in the middle of Charleston harbor. Then they built the fort.

All in all, I would recommend a visit to this historic city. Its charm is infectious and its architecture an hallucinogenic back to another time.

“Yu’all” come.

Dispatch - North Carolina

Today’s post begins a series of dispatches from the road as I head south to Florida and then West to California. It is a mobile passage to experience life and lives both on and off the highways and blue roads of America.

From my rural lair in the Northeast I write and read about life in America. I do so from both observations and interest. This trip is to affirm my sense of oneness in humanity and acknowledge that it snuggles within diversity.

I left the New York-Washington corridor quickly for two reasons. I’ve lived and worked in that region most of my life and I know it fairly well. AND it was 5º above zero. You can guess which one was the motivator.

Today I am ensconced in Southport, North Carolina at Saint James Plantation. www.stjamesplantation.com It is a massive residential development on the inland costal waterway. You stay inexpensively for two nights in a three-bedroom well-appointed condo. The developers give you a spiel and tour in hopes the experience and place will entice you to build, buy, or rent on the plantation. So far I like the high temperature of 50 plus degrees and no snow.

I met a very personable young lady last night at dinner. She was the waitress. She is in her late twenties, a graduate from college with a degree in elementary education with an art minor.

She is not teaching because of student loans. She can make more money in the restaurant service business than she can teaching.  America needs teachers desperately and the young need to pay off their bills. It is a social dilemma that must be addressed so we can stay intellectually competitive with the other developed countries of the world.

It seems to me that if someone gets the appropriate credentials and agrees to teach for five years there ought to be a forgiveness of student debt. Maybe Congress could find a way to spend money on that.

More tomorrow farther south.

Ground Zero

Writing yesterday’s post brought back the darkness of 9/11 2001.

Not only did I see it happen, I reported on tragedy for days and days.

I’ve visited Ground Zero a number of times over the years. I remember passing the wall of shrines at Trinity Church where flowers, letters, and photos were set in sacred reverence on a wrought iron fence.
Each tribute then a collective jolt and individual pain reminding us of what we lost.

People prayed with each attempt to rescue those we thought might be alive and trapped beneath the tombs of debris. We cried as each body was recovered and still we hoped.

As the time passed our prayers of hope gave way to the horror of the numbers dead and the knowing that no one could survive.

All we could do was salute and be silent as the flag draped bodies passed from the pit into the broken hearts of their families and we ached for those who would have no body to mourn or to bury.

Our leaders responded to terrorism as the civilized world said no to the inhumanity of terror and vowed to destroy the organizations that promote and encourage it.

The war on terror is far from over and it is doubly sad that so many more lives have been lost in the battle.  Like so many I will visit Ground Zero again and again and remember.

Terrorist's Trial

The Justice Department is moving the terrorist’s trial from lower Manhattan.

Lower Manhattan, a great place.

I like many things about it. I like the sophistication of Wall Street, but not necessarily their selective ethics.

I like the history there; the steps where George Washington took his oath of office, the mishmash of streets long before someone thought better with avenues and streets in straight lines. In fact Wall Street was just that. A Street with a wall on it to keep the cows in and the Indians out back in the 16-hundreds.

I like the way the area empties out at night and its people move to uptown bars and restaurants. I like city hall and China town and the boats to Staten Island, Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.

What I didn’t like, because of the potential disruption, was the plan to try Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and four alleged co-conspirators a few blocks from where the World Trade Center twin towers stood.

Somehow it didn’t seem right.

Ground Zero is sacred ground now and its proximity to the court where Khalid Sheikh Mohamed would have been tried has a certain justice to it, but the disruption to life and business negates the irony.

At first I accepted the idea because it seemed justice to bring the accused back to the scene of the crime, but then listening to so many explain the hardships they would face because of security, I changed my mind.

Justice will be served no matter where the trial takes place.