Consequences

Skylight.
Looking up!  Better days ahead.

On our drive to a favourite walking path, Jack and I passed a 70’s-something camperized VW van. Like a lot of folks, I had one once; it was even the same colour. Not a Westphalia conversion it was a rare automatic with a whopping 2200cc engine. Compared to what we consider a camping rig fifty years later they were crude to say the least. What drew my attention to this old VW was the “Just Married” sign in its rear window. Wow! Remember those days? Right into the 70’s folks still held wedding parades between the church and the reception location. They would decorate their cars, complete with tin cans tied to the back bumper and hold a slow procession around town honking the horns. It was a tradition that had folks along their route rushing out to wave and see if it was anyone they knew. And of course they did if the town was small enough. Today, if anyone carried on like that, they’d probably be ticketed by the police for several infractions. The only person rushing out for a look would be a divorce lawyer to hand out business cards.

Remember when?

After an encounter with yet another Covid-masked bully I found myself writing like a hairball rolling before the wind; just discarded bits of DNA getting bigger and bigger and of absolutely no value. Eeech! I left it to sit and ferment but finally I scrubbed my acid words after I dug into some current news stories and ended up even more confused. The numbers I researched on police violence and racial percentages did not add up. They could be used to prove anything in any way as they so often do. There’s rhetoric aplenty about all issues. All I can offer is that all of us, yes me too, should consider consequences a little more. In fact consideration of cause and effect is perhaps a cornerstone of stable civilization. Psychopathic ping-pong; That’s how we talk and act, with no regard for the effects of what we do and say, who we hurt or how we damage ourselves or our future.

Dog!
Gone!

 

Think of the current pandemic and the racism monster. Both are a direct result of folks who did not think ahead about the results of inaction and poor choices. And instead of thinking it all through, folks are working on new apps. Perhaps someone will come up with one that calculates consequences of a given action. The “impeachment” word was conveniently wrapped inside with the Covid crisis and now racism is binding all the mess together. In the knee-jerk reactions to it all folks are tearing down statutes of clearly once-revered leaders. Now Theodore Roosevelt is being pulled down. He was, I thought, regarded as a progressive and esteemed leader, a cornerstone example of what a US president should be. Now he is being dubbed “A colonialist.” Guess I’ve read the wrong history books. I thought the US had long been a sovereign state when Teddy hit the saddle. In the meantime the tsunami of the second Covid wave may well be building and racing toward our shores…as I write. Someone has decided it will not arrive until next winter and we’ll be ready. Yeah OK! But the numbers are rising now. So?

I stand by my mantra that “All Lives Matter.” I am concerned that the media’s careless determination to create an impression police violence is somehow targeted only at blacks will undermine the whole new movement against racism. But the movement needs to be to promote equality between all people. I am not denigrating any person or all the serious issues but the media has an obligation to be objective and honest. It is clearly not. While subjectivity may sell better, credibility will sell longer. Do your own homework and raise your own questions. Be prepared to find that the real story may be barely recognizable.

I can add nothing to the solution so let me share some humour.

Here’s a hand-painted sign I saw recently, “Clean fill wanted…but I’ll settle for a dirty woman!”

Or a bumper sticker, “Sasquatch doesn’t believe in you either.”

I have a T-shirt with a silhouette of a Bigfoot and the inscription, “Introvert.”

Three in a row, all in step. I know that dogs can make folks smile. The white girl in front is six months old, the guy bringing up the rear is over fourteen.
Old Jack teaches his young pal Fritzy old tricks. “Look cute!”
Ayres
The princess of cute. She’s the newest family member, but not in Jack’s house.
“No pup’s going to out-cute me!”
…”Even in my sleep.”

Yesterday afternoon while walking with Jack around the perimeter of a very large hay field, a tiny homemade aeroplane high overhead practised some “Happy Flying.” Long ago I used to do that and yes, there was an ache for those magic days now passed. Although long suppressed, aviation is as much a part of my fibre as messing with boats. Easily recognizable as a home-built aircraft, it was one of several mid-wing designs which fly very well with low horsepower. This one had the unmistakable clatter of a Continental 85. The pilot flew basic aerobatics: stalls, spins, loops, chandelles, Immelmans and Cuban eights, all flawlessly. He was going nowhere and was just up there for the simple joy of it. He or she didn’t know it, but I was in that tiny cockpit too, twisting and turning, pulling the G’s and looking down on the spectacular aqua mosaic of the Gulf Islands. The joy of the moment! For a few minutes I partook vicariously. It was grand. Thank you for that, whomever you are. You made my day.

Happy flying. A venerable Russian Yak trainer goes to be flung “Through footless halls of air.”
Soon the wild roses will be finished for another year.
Indian plums are ripe. A clever spider has built a web to trap insects drawn to the fruit.
Oregon Grapes will produce a bumper crop this year.
Forest mosaic.
Missing: pretty girl, canoe, ukulele.
Of all the grand local homes I can find to covet, this is THE one! Some poor fisherman’s no doubt.
What can be finer than a warm rain which ends in the morning?

 

If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?
― George Carlin

All Lives

The last lily. It may be that I won’t see one again until next spring.
And…the last columbine?
This was glowing in the rainy gloom a few feet from the tiger lily.
Now it is foxglove season. Late spring already!

The rain hammered down until near midday. It eventually began to ease and so Jack and I finally went for our morning walk. Along the wet, wet trails I found a final wild lily and a columbine in bloom. Their cheerful splashes of colour certainly helped brighten a dull day. I realized there are no events for me to comment on intelligently, despite the ongoing pandemic and the rightfully erupting surge of protest against police violence and racism. I know I have ranted, mourned and criticized popular social trends. I feel an obligation to be a devil’s advocate and may I point out that humour is always some form of criticism. But for once I have little to say.

Martin Luther King said that you can’t resolve hate with more hate.

I’m befuddled by the slogan “Black Lives Matter.” Yes they do! The entire history of Black folks in America is certainly ugly. But… those three words become a cliché that turns the whole massive movement into a further advancement of prejudice and division. Only when people can say “All lives matter” will we have movement toward erasing racism and developing true equality. Whether it is race, faith, gender, age, disability, health, economic status or birthplace, only when those factors become irrelevant to all of us will we have a significant move toward real equality. So far, in the history of the human race, we have not come close to solving any of those issues. Someday, hopefully soon, we will start actually trying.

Jack and his buddy Beau. There are a few favourites of his whom we meet on our walks. Dogs don’t seem to care about size and colour.

I can confess to this. As I have come through life I have been among those who often denigrated older people even if only in jest. I don’t understand why we fear and distance ourselves from the inevitable state of becoming an elder. We are all heading that way and at the same rate of progress. Yeah, you too! It is part of the life cycle for all beings. Certainly older folks have a lifetime of skills, experience and wisdom that we need to maintain the continuity of our culture. We have developed a trend of alienating our older family members and relegating them to isolation and separation. Without the inclusion of our seniors within our families our culture has to ultimately crumble. And, may the Gods help us, we also do it with our children. We treat them as an inconvenience and nuisance during the years when they most need nurturing and dedicated love. Then we wonder what’s wrong with society! If you can’t make a family work how the hell can you expect a functional government?

Oh all right, here’s my obligatory nautical image. It speaks of family bonding, mentoring and tradition. This photo is quite old. The ‘Robertson II’, the schooner to which the oar points, long ago struck a reef and her remains lay on the bottom. She was a classic Lunenburg-built fishing vessel from an era now lost forever. “Haar Billy, dem were de days!”

That elders continue to play a valuable role in Latino families is one of the reasons I love the Mexican people. It is also certainly true of several other cultures we all know and often despise. As I stumble toward my senior years I am paying for my bigotry about older folks. Although I can still provide a valuable contribution in the workplace, in society and in the family I know I am often dismissed simply because of my wrinkles and silvering hair. The first time you are asked if you are eligible for a seniors discount is a bit of a twister. Then comes the day when someone calls you an “Old Fucker.” Wham! Yep, your turn is coming. It is mighty powerful slap therapy. Sadly, life offers no rewind buttons. You can’t go back and make new mistakes!

We’ve all heard about a fart in a wind storm. Here’s an old one in a breeze who has just discovered his long-lost selfie stick. (By the way Kerry, see, I’ve still got that trivett!)
Fungal frailty and splendour. It is actually tougher than it looks and nicely survived a heavy rainfall two days later.
The BULL SLUG! While photographing the fungus I suddenly noticed this monster munching on it. I’ve never seen one displaying what I’ll call gills. Two days later, it was still there. This photo is close to life size. Let’s name him ‘Fuzzy!’

The other social issue under close scrutiny again, or still, is the thuggery of our police forces. They are simply reflecting the values we hold. Try to find a movie, a video game or a television show without someone waving guns, crashing cars, beating each other, blowing things up. That’s the entertainment we employ to stimulate ourselves and to relax! It is part of the fibre of our society and yet we expect all of our police to be smiling, embracing examples of good citizenship. Cops are not all thugs. Unjust violence is never acceptable but are their martial tactics part of our social woe or is it a symptom? Yes; both times. The Covid crisis hype keeps declaring “We’re all in this together.” Yes, WE ARE.

During this morning’s monsoon I worked at the final edit of my latest little video. It is a simple explanation of why and how my tiny trailer evolved. It’s called “A Social Isolation Unit… On Wheels.” If you think it might interest you, here’s the link.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tS3ba5dgZk

No matter how big a nation is, it is no stronger than its weakest people, and as long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there to hold him down, so it means you cannot soar as you might otherwise.” —Marian Anderson, singer