PERSPECTIVE -- JAN. 6th -- INDIGENOUS PEOPLE

REPUBLIC -- "If you can keep it."  [Democracy]

U.S. Select House Committee on Jan. 6th Hearings

Committee Media Center's Latest News

The Committee's subpoena to Donald Trump to testify resulted in the 45th President failing to comply and suing the Committee.

Former integrity chief Jack Smith, has been appointed by the Attorney General as a special counsel to "oversee the Justice Department's criminal investigations involving Donald Trump" as NPR describes HERE

QUESTION:   Will the Committee's final report rightfully include findings about all involved in the January 6th seditious activities in addition to those of former President Donald J. Trump -- the Congresspersons, Government law enforcement departments including FBI, Secret Service, other organizations, any religious entities, possibly any corporate and private financial backers?

UP WHERE WE BELONG  sung by Buffy Sainte-Marie

This is the composer's version of the song which is best known from the movie, "An Officer and a Gentleman" sung by Joe Cocker.  "Buffy won an Oscar for this song with Jack Nitzsche and Will Jennings."  

PERSPECTIVE

How we view life's experiences is all a matter of perspective.  Buffy Sainte-Marie, now 81 years old,  recalled in her youth being taught in school that in 1492 Columbus discovered America, but as an indigenous native Canadian American Cree Indian she knew that wasn't true.  She said, in 1492 we Indians in America discovered Columbus.

Buffy expressed a variety of thoughts in her music's lyrics through the years including some about current events as others like Bob Dylan did.   Elvis Presley and other singers performed and recorded her songs.  Her career progressed until unbeknown to her the U.S. government began black-listing her, suppressed her music recordings she discovered years later in her FBI files.  Not realizing her activism had become of concern, she thought her popularity has just waned.  

Other credits Buffy has acquired included repeated appearances on Sesame Street introducing that young community to indigenous people.  The story-line with her husband continued through her pregnancy, subsequent natural breast-feeding of her new-born baby.  

Thanksgiving's celebration fostered my remembrances of what I was taught about the holiday in school.  We focused on the Pilgrims and the Indians forging a friendship by sharing a meal.  

Were some of you in later generations taught more facts about the Pilgrims and Indians relationship?

I have long since learned there is much more to the story of the Native American Indians, the indigenous people of our nation, from whom the Pilgrims began taking their land with and without their agreement.  

The American Indian perspective on the Thanksgiving myth can be viewed on PBS.org HERE

"Wampanoag historian Linda Coombs and Narragansett Knowledge Keeper Cassius Spears speak with filmmaker Yvonne Russo about the experiences of Native populations at the time of European settlers'  arrival in New England 400 years ago, and what is actually known about the first Thanksgiving."

The arriving pilgrims encountered the aftermath of a plague thought to have been brought to them a short time earlier by fishermen.  Thousands of Indians died in this fast moving disease that decimated their villages of their health care providers and even those who bury the dead.  Seeing this devastation a pilgrim leader reported God had cleared the land for them revealing an insensitive, even heinous view -- lacking in compassion for other human beings to say the least by this Christian likely intolerant of others different spiritual views.  

Centuries later I recall attending the reading of a new book by author Dee Brown when we lived in Arizona.  "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" proved to be a novel describing how the American west was won.  Heart-breaking descriptions reveal the "...systematic destruction of American Indian tribes in the late nineteenth century" as Good Reads reviews HERE

Native American Cultural Heritage Month is currently being celebrated on PBS.  A number of programs are being aired about life on the reservations today you may find of interest.  

Indian reservation life can still leave much to be desired for many residents lacking basic utilities taken for granted elsewhere.   Agreements between the Indians and the U.S. Government also can continue to present challenges resolving.  

Now may be a reckoning time as our nation's people need to relinquish the colorful notions and stories told about our history.  The reality of our indigenous people, also of those held in slavery often has been romanticized and is long overdue for truthful descriptions. 

We might also want to take special care to tolerate, especially in leadership positions and news disseminators, only those committed to speaking, writing truth.

LIFE IN SO CAL INFUSED WITH DRAMATIC MEMORIES

Let's take a look at what's going on in my neck of the woods -- Southern California, sometimes referred to as SoCal.  Then, we'll briefly move across the pond which has prompted a personal memory of my modest, rather inconsequential but thoroughly enjoyable, occasionally hammy in dramatic terms,  life.

Pandemically speaking, Delta+ infections, especially among the unvaccinated and younger people, soar in Los Angeles County,  as reported in our local newspaper, Claremont Courier, by reporter Steven Felschundneff.  "The vaccination rate has stalled at 64% of the eligible population" in our town, he reports. 

I continue to mask whenever I go out, even to drive thrus and for pickups as I had been doing, even when that requirement had been relaxed.  Frankly, I don't see the situation changing anytime soon and current news reports suggest October may see a peak.  But this virus and variants wickedly change so I recommend you regularly check reliable news health sources you have both nationally, as with  Dr. Fauci, M.D., NIAID (National Institute of Allergies and Infectious Diseases) Director, I respect, and your local sources.  

***Late insert:   I just read this from my daughter:   "Very frustrating and unsettling when your unvaccinated teammate comes to work sick and apparently has been for the past 2 weeks, then doesn’t bother to take a covid test because they think they couldn’t possibly have covid and then tests positive for covid thereby exposing the entire team plus surely countless others."

She has been vaccinated and has continued to mask when her employer required the team start coming back into the office a couple days a week which none of them wanted to do. Their work remotely has been as productive or even more so during the time they've worked remotely and there is no reason why they could not continue doing so. Now, of course, she will have to be home for two weeks. Hopefully, remote working for the team will resume at the end of that time. I don't know if the ill person has been unvaccinated, or not, but they certainly are creating problems for all as well as themselves.

Back to My So Cal up date.....We're experiencing increased drought conditions this year.  Recently we've been asked to voluntarily reduce our water usage by 15%.  Avoiding cutbacks or complete loss of power has resulted in the electric utility company requesting periods when we limit our use of appliances and other electronic devices during certain daily hours.

We're sometimes asked throughout the year to not use our fireplaces burning wood if air pollution issues are of increased concern.  But that's another matter relative to our environment, air quality, to which smoke from any forest fires would also contribute.

Temperatures have been hot and higher in the three digits more frequently this year than previous years.  Fire risk is elevated in our mountainside forests exacerbated by dry undergrowth but, hopefully, all will be spared should flames arise, and homeowners won't have to evacuate, much less lose their homes, possessions, animals or even lives.

The creatures living in the mountains are feeling these climate change effects impacting their lives, food sources and comfort.  Consequently, some animals, including coyotes who have previously established packs in some towns like my own, are venturing more into our foothill neighborhood communities.  

The numbers of bears frequenting human environments in our foothill communities as they've done for years seem to have increased.  Bears have been sighted in our town again this year, probably only a mile or so from my neighborhood.  Given that my next door neighbors have a pool, plus a large community pool for subscribers in a limited area also exists at the end of our street about which I hope the bears don't find out.

Here's a short 14 sec. video of a bear taken last year in our town followed by a 2:48 min. video in another community of a mama bear and her cub cavorting in a family's pool they have been regularly visiting this summer -- after the pool is cleaned, of course.

Earlier this month the bears who generally visit primarily the night before, or in early morning hours when residents have set out at the curb their garbage cans for pick-up,  have expanded their talents.  We, in my neighborhood, have been spared that bear "raiding the garbage can" activity so far.  

As if human porch pirates of packages isn't enough, now the bears are getting in on the action.  In LaVerne, the community next to mine, a family discovered a bear had chosen one of their Amazon-delivered packages, the one full of chocolate, naturally, to take right off their front porch in this ABC7 youtube video:

Moving across the pond, more familiarly known as the Atlantic Ocean, I was intrigued earlier this spring when I read popular crime writer Agatha Christie's play, "The Mousetrap" was going to resume London performances after having been shut down due to the pandemic.  This play had been running continuously for over 60 years!

As I may have mentioned previously,  I was bitten by the acting bug whose juices have remained in my soul -- but resulted in overt expression by being in plays when I was young and single.  The juices effects subsequently dissolved into the background of my life when I worked in TV and after I married, then had children.  This occurred because, the traditional way of staging a play as I knew it required setting aside at least four weeks of my free time just for preparation, learning lines if acting, and rehearsals.  The commitment continued for however long performances to a live audience were scheduled.

I just didn't think I could do justice to a play, my children, husband, coupled with the demands of the rest of my life, retain my sanity, if I became involved in theatre.  My husband had pressures of his own so would have difficulty trying to pick up any slack for our family my being away from home so much would have caused.

Through the years I sometimes have felt nostalgia for this theatrical part of my life.  However, when I was still single, there had been a period of time when I had even seriously been debating between moving to NYC to audition for acceptance to train in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts or applying to the Pasadena Playhouse on the West Coast -- from which I still have the application form I requested but never submitted.  No doubt I am just one of many who had similar thoughts but never acted on them -- one of the differences between those who succeed in the business and those who don't.  

London's West End Theatre's "Mousetrap" re-opening announcement news triggered memories for me immediately, as I recalled those years in my mid-twenties when I was very active in amateur little theatre.  The passion I developed never left me after the very first play I was in during high school -- a drama I had strongly urged we present, "Drums of Death." In retrospect, perhaps a different type play might have been a more wise choice for our high school group and audience -- something light-hearted.  I think I still have a copy of my play book.  Perhaps I can sell it since it's now out of print, but I see one paperback being offered on the internet for $30.

When I entered college, I enrolled in an elective one hour credit course called "Stagecraft" with drama activities and plays.  These soon became my primary focus over and above all of my other coursework designed to prepare me for a career to become a Medical Technologist.  I wisely changed majors at the end of the term.

My studies the rest of my undergraduate college years included a certain number of theatre focused classes along with my extra-curricular involvement in lots of plays as well as broadcasting on our campus radio station with my music program, "Jo's Jukebox".  My last year I was thrilled to be chosen as the only female character in a live one-act play in a relatively new entertainment media then, television, on a nearby commercial TV station.  I was becoming aware of some of the potentials for a possible future career.

After graduation, returning to my native state, I enthusiastically joined a local little theatre group, Foothill Players,  which filled all my free time after work for the few years I lived in that town.  Primarily, I acted in, and/or directed plays, including a couple of Agatha Christie's -- "Witness For The Prosecution" and "The Mousetrap"; produced and directed with friends another successful, including monetarily, children's play, with an adult cast, "Winnie The Pooh".

We encountered racism initially in our effort to use the theatre stage to mount this play, "Pooh" through the Players group, to which most of us belonged, for the public but overcame that challenge.   The theatre group which has successfully grown and expanded now has since readily taken credit for our production just as they accepted the small profit we made over and above the expenses using the theatre for which we paid them, then donated our profits to them.  We had paid out of our own pockets to stage "Pooh", making our costumes thanks to a talented artistic non-member of the theatre group who hadn't been allowed to join.

"The Mousetrap" which I directed proved to be a very demanding undertaking when our leading actress had a miscarriage early in her pregnancy during the week before the play was to open.  I visited her in the hospital and in my young inexperience-in-such-aspects-of-life hardly knew what to say or do, but concerned for her welfare, wondering what to do about the play.

Our "Mousetrap" cast later gathered with other theatre leaders.  The consensus was the old show biz cliche', "the show must go on", since the publicity was out there, some tickets sold, and it was so close to opening night.  Furthermore, much to my concern and it certainly hadn't been my suggestion, all concluded I was most familiar with the play, all the characters lines, therefore I should play the lead.  I, extremely hesitant, very reluctant, finally agreed. 

I spent every free moment in the few days we had before the weekend opening, reviewing and  memorizing my character's lines with cues, especially key since there was not to be time for a rehearsal, but I knew the stage blocking, having designed that myself as director.  I had real reservations I might have to depend on off-stage prompts for some lines which in all my other acting performances I had never needed to utilize.

I'm quite sure this was one more experience greatly contributing to a skill I had reason to have to use in most every work position afterward that I describe as needing to "fly by the seat of my pants" -- unexpected situations developing to which I would generally readily adapt with relative calm while maintaining my sanity.

To my great relief the day before our play was to open our leading lady said her doctor had decided she was well enough to perform safely, if she wanted to,  that, in fact, the activity might even be good for her.   

Sitting in the audience, as I usually did during plays performances that I directed, I hoped and expected all would go well.   No reason for me to stay backstage since everybody knew what they were to do and now it was up to them to do it!  I would only be in the way -- especially if anything went awry they would need to focus all their energies on adapting with no distractions from others telling them what to do.  I did have a slight bit of apprehension that in case there was a problem with our leading lady that I better be prepared to go on stage after a short break to assume the role.  Happily, all went well!

BULL RAISING THREATENED BY PANDEMIC

PERSONAL MEMORY OF BULL FIGHTING .....

               CULTURAL ART OR ANIMAL CRUELTY?

Bull raising is threatened in Spain I read recently in the news as this pandemic has taken a toll on many business enterprises.   The bull raising business, especially in Spain, is no exception though it has been under assault for other reasons for a number of years as has been bullfighting for which these bulls are raised.

"The most well-known form of bullfighting is Spanish-style bullfighting, practiced in Spain, Portugal, Southern France, Mexico, Columbia, Ecuador, Venezuela, and Peru.  The Spanish Fighting Bull is bred for its aggression and physique, and is raised free-range with little human contact.

The practice of bullfighting is controversial because of a range of concerns including animal welfare, funding, and religion.  While some forms are considered a blood sport, in some countries, for example Spain, it is defined as an art form or cultural event, and local regulations define it as a cultural event of heritage.  Bullfighting is illegal in most countries, but remains legal in most areas of Spain and Portugal, as well as in some Hispanic American countries and some parts of southern France.  (CGTN Rahul Patnak). 

This 2002 The Art of Bullfighting video (17:20 duration) best presents the bullfights ritual sequence of actions I was to see one mid-1950's afternoon.  Video commentary notes:  "Every attempt to ban bullfighting in Spain has failed.  In fact, since Spain joined the EU, it has enjoyed a renaissance as Spaniards stand up for their cultural heritage."  

 

Actually, since this video, a few Spanish cities reportedly have outlawed the practice of bullfighting.  There may have been some slight decline in bullfighting acceptance around the world in subsequent years in addition to the toll the pandemic has taken.   

PBS recently aired a special program series on writer Ernest Hemingway that I watched.  During this TV series, books he wrote about bull fighting evidenced his fascination with this activity in Spain.  He stressed bull fighting was not a sport as conventionally viewed in the United States.

I was aware of Hemingway's non-fiction book, "Death In The Afternoon", published in 1932, examining the Spanish traditions and ceremony of bullfighting.  Deeper meanings about fear and courage, life culminating in death, though the latter supposed to be only for the bull, are the focus true aficionados appreciate he noted.

His earlier novel, "The Sun Also Rises", published in 1926 portrays American and British expatriates who travel from Paris to the Festival of San Fermin in Pamplona to watch the running of the bulls and the bullfights.  The story is based on real people in his life.  Thought to be a lost generation after WWI Hemingway suggests they were resilient and strong.

"The Running of the Bulls occurs every July 7th-14th in Pamplona, Spain.  6 Spanish fighting bulls, along with 6 steer, run from the Corrales de Santo Domingo to Pamplona's Plaza de Toros (bullfight arena).  Over 1 million spectators watch thousands of runners over the 8 days of the San Fermin Festival.

Rick Steves, European travel authority, describes the event:

" 

The 2021 Running of the Bulls event was cancelled for the second year in a row as reported by Reuters due to the pandemic.   The event, expected to resume in 2022, is being promoted on the Internet now for visitors to make travel bookings and accommodations reservations.

I have not been particularly interested in bullfighting so hadn't read either of Hemingway's  books though I did see the 1957 movie based on "The Sun Also Rises".  I especially recall sultry actress Ava Gardener in a leading seductress roll pursuing the bullfighter which reportedly became her reality in real life.  There was also a much less appreciated 1984-TV miniseries I didn't view of that same book that is said to not have been favorably received by critics and the viewing public.  The news item and focus on Ernest Hemingway prompted numerous thoughts and memories of my own from the mid-fifties.

My only sibling, decade older brother now deceased, made an effort to expand my horizons in various ways throughout my life.  Not all his undertaking went well such as the time he sat preschool age me on the back of his bike with me gripping his bike seat.  My little legs hung down as he rode his bike uphill toward our house.  Apparently, my legs tired and I attempted to rest my left foot somehow, but ended up entwining it in the bike wheel's spokes.  I still carry the large scar on my ankle but have no conscious memory of the event.

When I was a senior in high school my brother visited, gave me the keys to his convertible enabling me to have the rare opportunity to drive alone into town on my own one evening from our then rural home.   Then when I graduated from high school his gift to me was a couple pieces of Samsonite luggage which was perfect for moving out into the world, or college as I had hoped and he certainly encouraged.  A few years later he gifted me a necessary standard bit of jewelry accessory for any young woman's social life I was yet to experience -- a high quality simulated pearl necklace.  

So, years later when I visited him in Ecuador, one unexpected activity he introduced me to was an afternoon at a popular event in South American countries as well as Spain -- the bullfight.   The event featured an increasingly popular young bullfighter, Jaime Bravo, who was busily making a name for himself though relatively unknown then.  Bullfighting was more universally accepted during those years, partly due to Hemingway's writings describing the Spanish art form aspect of the event.

I recall visiting a local hotel an afternoon after attending the bullfight where my brother's young children were able to interact with the giant size Galapagos tortoises in the courtyard.   I heard quite a commotion inside the hotel which soon revealed itself to be fans encountering their idol, Bravo, who was staying there.

My recent research about Jaime Bravo's career revealed in his biography he led quite a colorful life, eventually groomed to be a U.S. motion picture star, actually appearing in several movies including: 

"Love Has Many Faces" (1965) with him as a matador, of course, a movie that was scandalous at the time.  "Starring Lana Turner, Cliff Robertson, Hugh O'Brian, Ruth Roman, and Stefanie Powers, the film was rife with repeated affairs...seemingly Bravo was typecast."  His voice was dubbed due to his heavy accent, though he spoke English.

"Known for his death-defying style, in the late 1960's ... Jaime Bravo was a bullfighter for many years, especially popular with the ladies and with the border town crowds.  He had the looks and the charm, if not the talent, to make it on the screen and to some producers, that's all that mattered."  Ava Gardener is said to have showered her attention on him at one of his bullfights.  Born in Mexico in 1932, he died there in a car accident in 1970.

Whatever point of view one has about bullfighting, after my viewing the afternoon spectacle, talking with others, reading about the various perspectives of bullfighting aficionados and critics, the moment when the banderillas planted their spiked end wooden sticks designed to tear muscles, nerves and blood vessels, my reactive opinion was formed.  

Then, when the bull charged the mounted padded horses with the consequences of their sharp pointed horns out of view my perspective was reinforced.  Yet later, more flesh damaging sticks were thrust into the bull's neck and shoulders.  There was never any doubt in my mind -- how could such torture and brutality be part of or considered as art -- this was animal cruelty.  

 

WHERE IS THE EQUATOR ..... EARTH'S CENTER?

Visiting family in Quito, Ecuador (9350 feet above sea level) I was introduced to numerous sights and experiences during that 1950s time.  This video reveals how much the city has developed, expanded into the countryside in the past almost seven decades since I was there.  I do recall never having seen as much gold in one location as I did in a church we visited, contrasted with the surrounding poverty outside.

 

In one interesting experience we drove a narrow two-lane dirt road out of the nation's capitol, Quito, occasionally passing cottage-like houses at the side of the road.   I noticed large carcasses of fly-covered butchered meat hanging under the roof covering front porch-like areas at some of those small houses.  Obviously, power for a refrigerator or freezer, electric lights and other features taken for granted in most U.S. homes was not present.

Our travel led us to a large cleared rough dirt area with the Ecuadorean nation's small plain marker in the center around which we could drive, also with ample room to park which we did.  There were no other structures or people visible, a very isolated nondescript site actually.  Stepping to designated areas I was able to stand spreading my feet simultaneously with each foot on purported opposite sides of the equator.

Suddenly, a small wizened-looking woman with classic witch-like appearance including long hair flying about her head appeared, apparently from the natural unkempt surrounding brush.  Startling us, she cloyingly but demandingly solicited a hand-out to which being mesmerized we did not immediately respond, still adjusting to her unexpected presence.  Her manner and facial features abruptly became very contorted into a wicked grimace with glaring eyes when we did not respond as promptly as she expected.

This truly witch-like-looking little woman waved around her arms and pointing long nailed fingers at us, shaking her hand menacingly, uttering Spanish-sounding curse words as she began casting a damning spell on all of us.  Such an intended fear inducing outburst in that brief period of time served to dampen any inclination we felt toward acquiescing to her demands leading us to not linger there longer.   I don't think we even had bothered to take any photographs at that point and never did.

Recently, I searched for an Internet photo of the small plaque/monument I recalled seeing to share here.  What has been revealed to me is the subsequent evolution of Ecuador's "Middle of the World" equator concept the nation has developed for their unique recognition in the decades since my visit.

The site we visited in the mid-1950s appears to have acquired a surrounding small town marking the area, but in Jim Ferri's NeverStop Traveling fun-reading short article is designated as "Ecuador's Fake Equator".   Wha-a-a-t !  ..... FAKE equator?  

Jim wrote:  "...the screw-up was caused by a French expedition in 1736 that marked the wrong spot.  And get this, the mistake wasn't realized until just a few years ago when the Global Positioning System (GPS) was invented."

But never fear you can go to the close nearby real equator at "the Inti Nan museum, which is about five minutes away" though "tourist trap" has been applied by some to that site.   "...you can stand on the line painted on the "real equator," plus do other interesting equator activities.

Wait a minute!  "...others say that neither spot marks the real equator and that the correct location is even further away."  Incidentally, Jim notes there are some GPS issues with the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England, too,  lest we become too concerned.

Quitsato Project describes "there is the possibility that the Quitu-Caaranqui indigenous people, Before the conquest of the Incas, they were able to reach the exact positioning of the equator in the archaeological site of Catequilla (see 27 sec. aero vdeo), which was possibly used as an astronomical observatory ... located exactly on the Equinoctial line, easily verifiable with satellite technology, GPS or Google Earth".

Hugh Morris of Great Britain's "Telegraph" describes the situation well, along with short paragraphs on numerous other sites around the world where designations of the center has become questionable.  In addition to London, other centres in Europe, there are complications with Alaska and Hawaii causing the centre of America to be in South Dakota, then there are 3 centres declared in Scotland.  Seems there can be some confusion.

Many of the links above feature some colorful photos accompanying mostly short articles.  The Quito countryside is surrounded by spectacular mountains with one inactive dormant volcano, Mount Chimborazo peak soaring to over 20,564 feet above sea level -- the highest peak on earth when measured from the center of the earth rather than sea level.

 

A brief recap before moving on to a different topic is what I expected to describe when I started writing this post.  This would be a simple account of my standing with each of my feet simultaneously on opposite sides of the equator.  Clearly, the matter has taken on unexpected complicating proportions.

Without the Internet most of us lay people would likely never have known about all these matters others now disagree about.  Ignorance can sometimes be bliss as the saying goes, simplifying life, not knowing what we don't know.  This applies to other topics, too.  Would you agree or whadda you think?

DID I, OR DIDN'T I ?

Another lesson learned ..... did I or didn't I take that daily antihistamine pill due in the regimen I started one recent weekend when the pollens worsened my reactions -- sneezing, sinus drainage, eyes watering, nasal stuffiness when I try to sleep, to name a few unpleasantries.  I recall noting directions said to allow 24 hours before taking the next pill as I was holding the pill bottle.

Suddenly, the phone had rung from a number I had, coincidentally, been thinking of calling myself, not some obvious unwelcome sales promotion.   S'pose that was ESP as I've experienced quite a few times before with phone calls through the years.  But, I digress -- that's quite another topic.  That catch-up phone conversation with my friend ended after a reasonable time with all pertinent topics covered, questions answered.   

A couple hours later, I happened to think -- "Did I take that antihistamine pill?"  I remembered holding the pill bottle, but did I take that pill just before answering that phone call?  I'm not sure, but I don't think so.  So I took a pill.   Then, I started to have second thoughts.  "What if I took a pill before?"  I reviewed the directions and read again what I remembered -- definite instructions "do not take another pill for 24 hours"!

Oh, my gosh!  What if I had taken a pill earlier and this one only 3 hours later -- is that an overdose -- and what could happen -- what should I do?  Obviously, this called for an Internet search which brought up -- "Call poison control!"

Referring to a more specific product link, I read the side effects I could experience -- "nausea, dizziness" and more unwelcome symptoms, plus "call your Doctor if you experience these".  Also, the description said if no complications I would just have to ride along with them 'til they were out of my system.  So, I settled back, to await my fate.

Fortunately, many hours passed without my having any of those side effects indicating I had not taken two pills as I had been concerned I might have done.  I've never had this kind of pill quandary previously and I don't want it again.  Another time, maybe I should make a little note on my calendar when I take that pill. 

I wonder if others ever find themselves in a dilemma over whether or not they took a pill they wouldn't want to overdose on? 

CATCH UP -- PIP TIME -- SERENDIPITOUS TIMING

CATCH UP

VAC TIME -- Received my 2nd Pfizer Covid-19 vaccination -- I had only a slightly sore arm at the injection site for just a few days.   Neither of my shots caused any objectionable reactions and pain. 

TRESPASSER -- I unexpectedly discovered a discarded blanket on my back patio which I reported to local authorities.  This is a second, possibly third trespassing occurrence of which I have become aware and described here in the previous post.  Police will accelerate their activities in our community I was told.   I'm considering that some additional security may be warranted.

PIP TIME 

Big Bear Bald Eagle 1st egg produced with peeps heard this past week, but the eaglet was unable to complete the hatching process, dying in the shell.

The 2nd egg is now being monitored for pip (first eggshell break), any day now.

Consider that scientist experts report only about 50% of these raptor baby birds usually survive in the wild as we are seeing with these Bald Eagles since I started viewing them in 2019.

Friends of Big Bear Valley (FOBBV) report:                                                                                                    "Due to the extremely high volume, chat will be closed until further notice.  We will post updated recaps of the daily events throughout the day right here".  

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7utMaDb1W08

SERENDIPITOUS TIMING

My recent need to contact local authorities prompted my recollection of an instance when my life might have been changed had my timing been different.

I was in the process of helping my mother to continue living independently in her residence.  She had been legally blind for a number of years.  She had been using large size checks so was able to continue to mostly manage her own finances.  In more recent years her vision had been slightly decreasing so I was gradually assuming more responsibility.  Even then I talked through with her everything I was doing, consulting her for decisions.  Feeling we have control over our lives as much as possible when we get older is very important, I believe, so keeping her involved mattered for reinforcing her positive attitude, confidence and bolstering her morale.   

One particular day there were some business matters to transact so rather than just handling them myself I had arranged that she go with me to the bank.  I drove to her residence, sat down on her sofa and we chatted a bit.  There was no hurry since neither of us had plans until much later in the day.  The longer I sat the more comfortable I became and I just couldn't seem to get started.  For reasons I can't further explain I persisted in just sitting there despite her beginning to become impatient with my delay, first questioning, then much more strongly urging that we get on with our bank business.

Finally, I arose, and we drove to the bank which was only five to ten minutes away.  On entering,  I noticed there were an unusual number of men in dark suits busily moving about in addition to the normally few tellers in this never-very-busy bank branch.  I thought maybe they were having an audit of some sort from my years earlier experience working in a bank elsewhere.  We were the only customers.  We were quite surprised to learn there had been a hold-up not long before and these were FBI agents.  Bank employees said they were relieved there were no customers in the bank at the time and no one was hurt.

After conducting our business, then leaving, Mother and I both marveled that had we gone to the bank earlier instead of my just vegetating on her sofa we would have been customers in the bank, or might even have walked in on the robbery in progress.  Who knows what might have transpired, but even if nothing, I'm very glad we did not have the experience of finding out.

I've reflected on other instances in my life when serendipitous timing might have altered my life's experience or path in other ways -- for better or worse.  

Do you recall any instances when unexpected timing could have made a difference in your life?

NEW YEAR'S OUTLOOK -- MEMORY MIX-UP

             "The November 3rd election was the most secure in American history."

This is a significant week in the continuing procedural steps following our 2020 Presidential election.

Countdown Dates.....

January 5, 2021:     Georgia runoff election for 2 seats determines U.S. Senate control.

January 6, 2021 at 1 pm:    U.S. Electoral College vote finalized, certified in Congressional joint session -- if truth, law and order prevail.

   ?  ?  ?                     Current Lame Duck President exits the White House

January 20, 2021 at noon:   President Biden is inaugurated.

SO-CAL

The first seasonal snow-covered mountains rising above my city attracted many to travel up the 2-lane road in vehicle lines that took drivers three hours to arrive where sledding was active on Mt. Baldy.  Late afternoon was time to return downhill but several hundred people became stranded overnight in their vehicles on the twisting turning mountain road since it was taking so long,  unable to safely descend back to the valley after sunset, partly because thawed snow had turned to black ice.

Meanwhile, in Southern California we are experiencing the beginning of significantly increased numbers of people testing positive for the coronavirus.  This is attributed primarily to viral spreading as a result of the actions of those who chose to ignore taking safety precautions as recommended by health officials during these recent holidays.  Hospital services here in Los Angeles County are on the verge of being impacted, jeopardizing delivery of patient care for all, coupled with possible staff shortages.

Vaccinations are beginning but at a much slower rate than has been expected.  Continued need to minimize further viral spread will persist in the weeks and months ahead.  

COVID-19 RISK ASSESSMENT

For whatever value it might be,  here's a possible tool for COVID-19 risk assessment that was reported to me  as being useful at microcovid.org. that I found interesting.

My research revealed Berkley Advanced Media Institute featuring this and some other visual reference tools that can be used for COVID-19 risk assessment.  The authors state:         

"As coronavirus case numbers continue to rise across the globe, we take a look at how COVID risk is being visualized.  Calculate your potential risk, see how coronavirus is spread indoors, and the impact of wearing masks."

"In this tool we state our best estimate based on available evidence, even when that evidence is not conclusive" as noted in their disclaimer.

I did use the calculator method to assess my risk of Covid -19 infection meeting with one workman outdoors, both of us masked.  Though I reside in high risk Los Angles County, California, USA, my risk assessment in that situation was low as I had thought it would be.  Perhaps results like this determined prior to an indoor or outdoor interaction with an individual(s), groups in various situations could be helpful.  This could be a tool along with other common sense considerations, including also using our best judgment about whether or not to meet with others, go to various businesses, a grocery store, a religious gathering, enter into other situations.

MEMORY MIX-UP

Losing track of time almost put a fly in the ointment of my planning for my Christmas dinner.  This is nothing new, first occurred to me when my children were young after they started school.  Anytime there would be special school days off for various reasons and my children would be home on a weekday the rest of the week often seemed like we had just had a weekend and my recollection of the actual day was thrown off.  Some of my friends said they had that experience, too, which we would laugh about, feeling relieved to know we weren't really losing our minds.

A work schedule always kept the days, holidays, well in perspective, too, but once I retired, regularly scheduled activities were altered.  There could be consecutive days which sometimes seemed quite alike, one after the other.  For whatever the reasons, apparently the week before Christmas I had it in my mind that holiday was on a Wednesday which was quite a different form of mix-up.  Having completed my Christmas gift ordering and shipping arrangements, my final preparation was to order delivery of the dinner I had decided to treat myself to having.  The order completed, I felt quite pleased with myself, ready for Christmas almost a week ahead of time.  

A few days later, I don't recall what occurred, it suddenly dawned on me that Christmas wasn't until Friday as I finally double-checked the calendar which I should have done sooner.  I was able to reschedule my dinner delivery date for Thursday afternoon instead of Tuesday to save the day.  The moral of this story is that I better reference a calendar more and not depend so much on my memory as I try to do to keep it honed and sharp.  I wonder if others get their days mixed up sometimes depending solely on their memories?  

HALLOWEEN REFLECTIONS -- DST -- AGING -- HOPES

HALLOWEEN NIGHT is when I am writing this for scheduling to publish early Sunday morning.   Coincidentally, Daylight Savings Time also takes effect Sun. Nov. 1st at 2 a,m, when we must turn our clocks back one hour -- except in 2 states, Hawaii, Arizona and the Navajo Nation in northeastern Arizona.

Halloween we ceased to have trick or treaters come to our door and our street years ago, so I stopped leaving my inviting outside light on.  Young people also stopped being dropped off here from other nearby communities to seek treats from our residents.  I'm fairly confident there was no one this year either, given the safety restrictions due to our pandemic Covid-19.

We haven't had any small children living in our neighborhood for years but a few babies now.  Long ago families started having private parties in their homes rather than allowing their children to go door-to-door when news around the country reported problems with some hazardous items being found in candies.

After the first couple years of stocking up on Halloween treats once our children were grown and gone from home, then having all the candies left over, we finally stopped buying any.  We could at last avoid the temptation of consuming those left-over goodies ourselves, though at least I bought only candy we liked.  We didn't need the sweets, but couldn't let them go to waste, could we!

I recall when we first moved here and our children were small, there were lots of other young children.  Trick or treating was a fun experience.  First, we went with them, then as they became older, they went only with their friends.  

For a few years, a father in our community had rented  a gorilla suit.  After the really little ones had made their rounds, typically early in the evening, they were taken home by their parents.  The night was quite dark by then as the "gorilla" began to make random unexpected appearances coming out of the shadows on some streets to the mostly older children.  

Especially the first year he confronted the children, they hadn't known about him so he gave them quite a scary thrill.  Subsequent years they harbored anxious anticipation wondering if, when or where the gorilla might appear.  They speculated about what else might be out there.  

A few years I had an audio tape of Halloween sounds -- wolves howling, chains rattling, voices moaning, cats screeching with other eerie noises and music -- that played from out of our pitch-black darkened garage.  This gave pause to some coming hesitantly up our drive.  Only one time was I disappointed with the behavior of some older unknown when I discovered one of our carved pumpkins sitting by our front door had been smashed by an obvious kick.  

Generations Halloween experiences change over decades.  My mother who would have been young in the early nineteen-hundreds when our nation was primarily a farming society, during horse and buggy days, had more restricted outings.  Some families might get together, church groups which were often social centers, or small farm area civic centers that had a store or two might have special Halloween events.  Older kids had limited travel capabilities from farm to farm (no cars) but could manage to get about.

Mom recalled a story where she lived in those days before indoor plumbing when one neighbor had their outhouse turned over.  Unfortunately, unknown to the tricksters, someone was sitting on the throne at the time.   Imaging in my mind what this might have been like in that odiferous environment is almost beyond comprehension if you've never had the treat of using one of those facilities.

The years when I was little we lived in a small town.  My decade older brother was cautioned by my mother when he went out, to use care about anything he might do, especially on Halloween.  Soaping people's windows was common then, so she put soap on a window, had him clean it to show him how difficult it could be to remove the soap.

She intended to discourage him from any such activity -- that soaping was not acceptable harmless fun.  She also stressed that he use good judgement to avoid participating in any actions others in his group might do if he knew they were wrong.  She reminded him also that with his red hair he would stand out, likely be remembered when others might not, even if he was innocent, if observed by victims of any nefarious activity from his group's members.

Years before kids went out only one night for treats, Mother said they used to go out two nights.  The first night was to ask for treats, then the next night to trick those who hadn't given them a treat.  The custom had long before become one Halloween night when I went out, but it was called Beggars Night.  I had shelled corn from a cob to throw on someone's porch that same night if I warranted they deserved a trick which seemed harmless enough.  

I'm still regretful in my now aged state about throwing corn on the porch at one home.  An older lady had come to the door angrily shooing us off with no treat.  Maybe she couldn't afford to buy candy to give out,  it was hard to keep going to the door, she was ill or had dementia.  What if her vision was poor, she had difficulty standing or walking I've sometimes since thought?

I realize now how inconvenient and even hazardous that could have been for her, stepping on those kernels and needing to clear them from her porch.  I've thought since of my own grandmother who I loved dearly, but we just ran away and down the street to the next house.  I wish now I could take that corn back, or would have at least swept it off her porch.  

This is finally the week our 2020 Presidential election occurs.  News reports indicate we're likely to have a record-setting turnout of voters all over the country.  All accounts are that a high percentage of voters submitted their ballot early as I did, too, depositing mine in an official drop box where I usually voted in person.  Checking on the internet revealed within only a few days that my ballot had been received, accepted, so would be processed for counting.  My family members in other states across the country voted early, too, as did at least one California friend that I know about. 

Voter suppression in some states being instituted primarily by the Republican Party hardly can be considered patriotic or in keeping with the tenets of our Constitution, nation's founders, or our democratic republic's ideals.

I'm also appalled and alarmed at any actions threatening the security of candidates campaigning in an effort to suppress the expression of views.  Such behavior is totally unacceptable and un-American.

Whether or not the outcome of the election will be determined by the end of election night, or even in the wee hours of the next morning, remains to be seen with so many mail-in and drop-box ballots to be counted.

-- I hope we'll be spared premature announcements of a winner by news media or candidates, other pundits until all the ballots have been counted.

-- I hope the popular vote winner also wins the majority electoral college votes unlike the travesty that has occurred in our nation's recent past twice to our nation's detriment.

-- I hope the U.S. Supreme Court is not drawn into deciding who our next President will be given the seriously questionable legal interpretations as they previously have made.

-- I hope we will know the results of this election by the time I write here next week.

I WONDER what are the Halloween recollections of others?   I expect most want election  results resolution much as I do.

DANCING DOWN THOUGHT HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

Isn’t it fascinating how our minds can stimulate unbidden thoughts, usually for only a matter of minutes,  sometimes longer.   We are lead to navigate through many varying topics, recalling events and people in our lives, often encompassing current to past years memories.  

Perhaps this tends to occur more frequently as we age, since I don't remember this happening as much when I was younger.  Maybe my memory bank is over-flowing, or that's the only way to reconnect with some who exist only in my mind now, or I simply have more leisure time to indulge the experience.  So it is, that some now-forgotten incident occurred the other day prompting me to think of dance.  The next thing I knew my mind picked up that dance thread, taking me along on a journey of its own.

I found myself thinking of the movie musicals featuring lots of dancing that were popular when I was a young girl, so viewing them at a local theatre often attracted me --  Gene Kelley, Fred Astaire. Cyd Charisse.  (Decades later brought John Travolta, Patrick Swayze).   Years later the advent of television featured a broad variety of music shows in series and specials with many TV programs featuring their own dance companies.   Choreographer dancers like Peter Gennaro, Debbie Allen come to mind.

My life situations as I matured offered me limited opportunity to dance even socially, but I observed live and other performances at every opportunity.  I recall my mother describing her love of social dancing.   She spoke of sneaking off to go dancing when she was supposed to be at a church event during her youth in horse and buggy days, before cars.  She said she was considered very tall for a girl at 5’9",  so many of her partners were shorter than her which was less acceptable in the minds of some in those days.  Typically, then and in my day, public dancing generally was expected to be between a male and female, but attitudes toward this, too, evolved years later, often with less attention to gender pairings.    

Dancing’s attraction for me actually began in my early childhood leaving fond memories I still recall when, like many little girls, I was enrolled in a dance class.  I have a vague picture in my mind of standing on a stage looking out into a huge auditorium when I was preschool age.   This was our dance recital at one of our town’s two theatres, each originally elaborately designed for stage performances but later adapted to accommodate a movie screen, too.  

I still remember the recital music and some of our simple dance steps for “The Parade of the Wooden Soldiers”.   Further performance details my mother described to me many years later.   She said I was the redhead in a group of four girls consisting of my deceased-a-few-years-ago last living life-long friend, a brown hair brunette.   Our team included also a blond and a girl with black hair. My friend and I laughed with pleasure reminiscing the year before she died about our dance days in the entertainment world.   

Our music and performance wasn’t quite like Harry Connick, Jr.’s version, set here to clips of “Babes In Toyland” but this is a fun well-edited clip though has no human dancers:   

My thoughts swirled on to another special dance memory which occurred during a tumultuous period of my life when I was in Jr. High School.  We had moved across the country living a few months in the Southwest where I first encountered a then minority culture different than my Caucasian one.   I had just entered school midyear when soon after we had a mesmerizing assembly.  On the stage was a handsome young golden-brown-skinned dancer attired in the traditional dark pants, shirt, sombrero, scarf, and his sister in a fancy colorful long skirt dancing their native country’s Mexican Hat Dance to unique musical rhythms much like this video: 

That memory gave way to a recollection from many years later when a male family member became a professional dancer.  Geographic limitations prevented me from ever seeing him dance, but I treasure still photos showcasing that red-haired muscular youth in a ballet performance with limbs extended as he seemed to be effortlessly sailing through the air.   I wish technology had been such as it is today when videos could have been readily recorded for my enjoyment and that of his wife and children, such as with one of his favored Nutcracker Mouse King roles.
  

These memories, as I noted earlier, all came to me prompted by a single external trigger which was that I wondered if people still square-danced?   I recall my sole experience square dancing as fun at a popular adult club as I was verging on becoming a teenager.   Afterward when describing to friends the experience of “duckin’ for the olive” and “do si do-‘n” I would then offer what I thought was my humorous version of instructions a caller would give: “Swing your partner ‘round and ‘round, pick her up and throw her down!”

This set me to thinking about the relationship between square dance music and country western music, a genre which has had selective limited appeal to me.  Next I recalled hearing line dancing had become popular and I wondered if it was replacing square dancing?   A brief internet search revealed square dance clubs are still all over the U.S., but those who actually square dance, reportedly, are declining in number. 

My thoughts devolved into imagining the advent of the Internet, technology and marketing changes in digital, music and distribution probably having a profound, possibly adverse effect on the sales of "square dance music with callers" recordings – a business in which I then recalled some friends family engaged.   My friends were considerably younger than me, but had died prematurely in the past decade or so due to separate but sad and tragic circumstances. 

All these thoughts are really quite mundane, specifically unique to me as would be yours to you.  These kind of recollections are relatively unimportant in the scheme of our existence, but they are the little aspects of day-to-day living that make up our lives, meaningful mostly to just us.   

Maybe not everyone has such mind-wandering travels as this.  I recall my husband could sometimes become impatient on occasion if I freely went on a mind journey aloud,  though usually just a much shorter jaunt. 

Do you ever allow your mind to take you down recollective thought highways and byways -- sometimes leapfrogging from one seemingly unrelated matter to another as perceived by others -- though actually connected by one small thread, perhaps apparent only to you?

RECAP -- LOSS SYMBOLS -- REMEMBERING

RECAP

I skipped a week writing here as some may have noticed.  I simply wasn’t in the mood to write though numerous topics crossed my mind to expound on during that time.  

     The government, our leader and political shenanigans are beyond commentary here, falling into an almost surreal dimension.   There do now seem to be a few courageous adult statespersons among those we pay to govern for the best interest of ordinary citizens who are actually attempting to do so.  Time will tell.      

     The Super Bowl I previously wrote about continued to have decreased television viewership  according to the Nielsen rating service -- signifying what -- I’m not sure -- if anything -- for the popularity of professional football.   

      Meanwhile, the white-capped mountains behind my home appear to have been dusted by a  celestial sifter covering them with snow to an extensive degree I’ve rarely seen here. At our lower elevation we’ve been receiving one rainstorm after another interrupted by an occasional cloud separation allowing the sun to burst through, sometimes even for a day or two. This pattern will continue through the coming week, more closely resembling our typical winter weather.   We’re delighted since this could mean the end of our drought conditions.   

     Unfortunately, further inland the Midwestern states. especially those around our Great Lakes, are being subjected to really cold temperatures, ice and snow, much like Antarctica as my family member informs me.   Also, one of our Michigan blogger buddies has had power outages from severe freezing temperatures, ice on power lines causing other adverse living conditions at her home affecting water lines, indoor appliances, as she was able to briefly describe – click on link above.    

* *  *

CONSIDER.....LOSS SYMBOLIZES MUCH.....REMEMBERING  

One recurring thought has formulated as a consequence of so many memories fluttering through my mind some nights/mornings before sleep arrives.   On those occasions I find suddenly it’s morning, causing me to arise later in the day in order to get adequate sleep hours, but this upsets my day’s routine.   Perhaps expressing thoughts here will put to rest some of those, generally, gentle pleasurable nighttime, but involuntary mental reminiscences.  They’re  partially brought on by numerous unanticipated losses in recent years narrowing the number of my close intimates remaining among the living. 

I’ve begun to realize there’s more meaning to my feelings of loss than just for the individual than I might have thought would occur.    Others  coping with losses, too, might prefer focusing on different topics, but this is my reality which I’ve been unable to ignore as my 2019 posts  may reflect --  perhaps by writing I can lessen some of my late-night thoughts. 

I’ve been prompted by various events or information I’ve received to engage in some checking on some friends from whom I’ve not had contact for some time.   Searching the Internet, also for various city newspapers can reveal some answers.   In one instance, ways in which to contact one friend have become unusually more complicated, since how we’ve always communicated is suddenly no longer viable.  So, I still await learning more about her status.  

Unfortunately, I sadly just learned another friend died -- last fall.   Perhaps her adult children didn’t have a password to her email account to know of our contact all these years, thus to let me know.    But, a holiday letter I wrote this year was not returned, so maybe it’s been forwarded to the adult children I’ve never met and they will yet contact me.    If not, at least finding her obituary on the Internet, I now know my friend’s status. 

I typically don’t leave comments on those Internet public obituary sites – writing those intimate, sometimes humorous private little personal notes I might want to share only with family.   I did write a blog tribute without naming my last life-long friend who died a couple years ago, but letting her family know.   Her younger sister was delightedly pleased to learn from my blog some of the activities in which we engaged when young – including that we were on a dance team foursome together.   

The loss I recognize feeling now, I’ve come to realize encompasses far more for me than the sense of just being associated with the increasing number of my intimates departing life in recent years.   These most recent friends are the last living individuals who were part of my community in that city where I had so many significant experiences both personally, and where I began my intended TV broadcasting career as a young single woman, then later my early married life.   

Each of several preceding years one friend or another died, culminating now with everyone gone from there except for the remaining uncertainty about one friend’s s status.   There’s no one left who remembers “when” ... with whom so much was shared that no one else would know .... a strange awareness there’s no one left with whom to exchange memories -- almost like losing part of my life! 

I’ve come to realize this also seems like a separation from this particular city and state – a place symbolizing so much significance in my life – that absent these friends presence, no longer would I have that sense of returning home there.   In fact, with no one left in that state of my birth, except a couple distant relatives with whom contact long ago ended,  I’m left feeling quite separated. 

These feelings aren’t  overwhelming by any means, or depressing – they just are – perhaps a melancholy -- an aspect of my life long taken for granted that is ceasing to exist.    Never had it occurred to me such a severance  would ever become true.  In a way we lose bits and pieces of ourselves little by little and ultimately our bodies follow.  

No doubt some of you may have had similar feelings attached to your own experiences with particular people, places and life – losses of one type or another resulting in your being the only one left to remember.