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War or Peace

Donald Trump has secured his name on another building. Too bad it's a vacant structure, but then that never bothered him. The US Institute of Peace, gutted and then destroyed by the DOGE deluge now reads the Donald J Trump Institute of Peace. What a joke. All his bloviating and whining about wanting a Peace prize finally paid off. What he'll do with this defunct institution is anybody's guess. In a recent roundtable discussion by political pundits on CNN this topic came up. After mostly agreeing that Trump is aching for some sort peace prize, the discussion finally focused on what the US Institute for Peace actually was, and that it didn't really do much. I take exception t that...strongly. About 25 years ago I spent a few weeks in Washington DC as a member of a summer institute for educations sponsored by the US Institute of Peace. Had I been part of that roundtable discussion I'd have informed those present what I was doing there and what was accomplishe...
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Recent posts

Because I've Fished With Him

Do you talk to people? By that I mean do you go out of your way to talk to people? It's increasingly important now in the current political climate. As a country, we've become so polarized that many people have deliberately stopped talking to one another. In my view, this is a crucial mistake. Perhaps it is a vestige of cancel culture, but, the consequences are critical. Lately I've been watching a CNN program called "Table for Five." Journalist Abbey Phillip moderates a discussion with 5 people who for the most part, do not agree on much poliktically. A diverse group, their political leanings are easily discernable. Often they clash, talk over each other, interrupt each other and flat out call each other liars. Somehow, host Phillip gets in her qualifying comments and reels them in so they never miss a commercial break or an opportunity to shift gears onto another topic. The program always ends on a light note. The last couple of minutes are devoted to...
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Tai Chi in the Mirror

 Tai Chi class meets twice a week, We do the warm-up and then the form, 30 gray heads in front of a big mirror, Knowing left from right becomes increasingly difficult, "Tai Chi for arthritis and fall prevention," Take a breath, open and close, Single whip to the right followed by hands like clouds, In the cloudy mirror I see my classmates, Two in chemo, two with canes, and three more stop to sit down awhile, Most of us persevere, Brush knee to the left, Duckwalk and parry- ends with right hand punching over left wrist (check your watch, grab a beer) 30 gray heads return to the front, Most men have large guts, the women are more talkative. In the mirror I see those diagnosed with diabetes, early Alzheimers, Parkinson's and more... We end with our cool-down, tense up, release, gently strike the big muscles to break up any lactic acid, The Tai Chi salute. Thank you for coming.
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The Way We Were and Are

 Ever been to a reunion ?  Most people I know seem to attend at least one of their high school reunions .  It's such a transformative time of life that the curiosity about what ever happened to__?  Sometimes just a few years can change a person"s appearance, their beliefs, their personality, or even their occupation.  The curiosity about how someone is doing or how they "turned out" is not worth the risk of actually going back home to find out.  Most folks I know go to one reunion and never feel the need to do it again.  Some people live for them rather than avoid them, but as the years go by, the pool of eligible attendees lessens.   About 55 years ago, I was a VISTA Volunteer in Houston, Texas.  Our project did some interesting things and was mostly composed of recent college graduates from all over the country.  We had a 50th reunion that was both fascinating and a tad depressing.  People age.  Some better than others. ...
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Writing on the Wall

       The first time I saw graffiti that was memorable was in a middle school bathroom.  As 6th graders I often walked home with friends by the middle school we'd soon be attending.  A stop by the boys bathroom near the boys gym placed me face to face with a piece of graffiti that immediately madame and my friends laugh uncontrollably.  On the wall above the urinals, was penned a short poem that read"                     This is a Teepee to take a pee pee,                         Not a wigwam to beat your tom tom      14 year-old humor at it's best.  The laughter my friends and I experienced was cathartic.  Being bottom of the barrel Freshmen could have dire consequences in the boys bathroom.  Those unpleasantries would come later, but for the moment, we were ecstatic and proceeded to read all the g...
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A Day in the Life of an Aging Fly Fisher

      Last year I bought a Tee shirt that caught my eye.  A white line drawing of a fly fisherman casting a beautiful loop on a navy blue background with the words " Poetry in Silence ."  It's a wonderful thought, b ut often romanticized.  Oh, I can cast a perfect loop like that from time to time, but the reality of fly fishing , especially for an aging fly fisher is often less than poetic, if not silent. Like the sport itself, the art of fly fishing is particularly challenging for the aging fisherman.  Some have challenges with walking in a river, or balance in slinking on and over boulders or slippery river bottoms, while others deal with the ravages of Parkinson's or Dementia .  For others it's simply the strength in their legs, or strain on their backs.        Like myself, most older fly fishers are often just glad to be there.  Fly fishing takes us to some of the most beautiful places on Earth.  With ...
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Darts

It hits like a dart.  A dart, thrown without warning, that pierces your armor.  A word or two that won't break your bones but inflicts great harm.  That time when someone said something that hurts.   The surprise, of course, is that they said it and your are required to respond.  No getting away from it, their outrageous belief demands attention.  To remain silent is complicity.  The kind of complicity that you decided long ago never to be a part of.  Yet, here you are, silent.   There are reasons for your silence.  Assumptions made by someone in your environment mean that the offending person did not think that you would mind their racism, or sexism, or ridiculous beliefs.  You do, but there are reasons for your silence.  Sometimes, survival.   So here you are, an eye witness to racism, and you have a difficult time responding. Case in point: In the early summer of 1970, I found myself with a small group of friends travel...
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