Daily Blues & Views

 Tomorrow is the memorial for my mother-in-law, Betsy Minkler, who passed about a month ago.  She lived to be 100, and died shortly thereafter, as if that marked the finish line.  A perfect 100.   When a person lives to be 100 or more, their life becomes a paradigm for the century they experienced.  Born in 1925, the Roaring 20s were in full force.  One could easily argue that the 2020s are shaping up to be quite memorable in their own way.   Betsy's century on earth was marked by World War, a "Great Depression," the development of Television, modern cars, space travel, global warming, the rise, and dare I say, the domination of technology in all phases of our lives.  Betsy rode in all manner of cars, from the early Fords to the electric Toyotas.  She dialed phone numbers and she spoke on phones where she need only touch one number to be instantly connected with a friend.   And friends...she had many.  Betsy was a people person, onc...

 Like many in this country, I made my way to last Saturday's rally and march to speak out against the Trump regime's attempt to capsize democracy.  Thousands joined me at Naito Plaza in Portland.  Similar  marches were taking place in every major city in this country.  It was time, again, to take to the streets and put our bodies on the line. I went by bus with a group of friends and neighbors from North Portland.  We were soon separated by the huge crowd, but no matter, we were prepared for that and made sure everyone knew how to get back home and felt free to exit the large crowd whenever we felt necessary.  At 78, my marching days go back to the late 1960s and it's hard not to compare experiences.  Of course the technology has had a major impact.  I noticed that all the speakers at the rally held a cell phone from which they occasionally referred to for notes on their comments.  People were constantly snapping pictures or making video...

 There was a time, not all that many years ago, when you wore your politics like clothing.  If your hair was  or wasn't a particular length, then it could be assumed that you supported or didn't the U.S, war in Vietnam.  If you wore beads around your neck, or shunned button-down  shirts or suits, then you must think this way.  Even your age, or there appearance of maturity would cause people to assume things about your values or beliefs.   This is still true in some ways, especially for younger folks  sporting tattoos, or piercings, or wearing certain styles of clothing.   With age, though comes liberation.  Case in point.  A couple of weeks ago I came to this realization on a freezing cold morning as I traveled alone across Oregon and on down to the Bay Area.  I'd spent the night in a cozy mountain lodge of a motel in Shasta City, the small town in the shadow of breathtaking Mount Shasta.  Anxious to get going the next mo...

 "It's in the blood."  That's what a horseman once told me when I asked how he got started training race horses.  I knew exactly what he meant because it's in my blood too.  Now, I don't train horses but my interest and enthusiasm for them is certainly far beyond the norm.   People often find that mystifying when they learn of this strong interest of mine.  "I wouldn't have expected that you'd be into horse racing,"they frequently say.  People make assumptions, don't they? I think, too, that many of their assumptions about horse racing are wrapped up in stereotypical beliefs and the tab ops of gambling.  For many folks, you can't be interested in race horses, unless you gamble on them.  Not so.  But then, I do bet a few bucks from time to time.   "If there were no betting on horse races, I'd still watch them," I tell them.  I don't really think they believe me, but it's really true.  My interest in horse racing a...

 Community is a word with mostly positive connotations.  Despite the fact that its root also produces such loaded words lime commune and communism, people generally feel good about belonging to a community.  A sense of community is regarded as a good thing.  We all belong to several communities.  I suppose there is a community of bloggers, just as there is a community for most subcultures in this world.  I know people who work in the horse racing community have a strong sense of their shared values.  It's an alternative universe and like most communities, they take care of their own.  Most people only see the frontside of a racetrack, that is, the grandstand, turf club, bleachers, and apron in front of the racing surface.  But over in the barn area is the "backside" aka "backstretch" where dozens of grooms live and work alongside vets, trainers, exercise riders, and vendors of feed, tack, and even food.  Clearly a small town.   In t...

 Among the things that the current "wood chipper" administration is eliminating, is the penny. That's right, the shiny copper-colored 1 cent coin will be no more.  Its lowly amount has no place in our lives any longer and the Emperor, despite wearing no clothes, has called for its elimination.   True, it has become mostly an irritation to most folks, but the U.S. penny one has many uses and was often a welcome addition to our pockets, change purses, and glass coin saving jars.  On occasion, people were paid solely in pennies if the person doing the paying wanted to make a statement to the recipient of the debt.  That might not be possible for too much longer.  But the fact that millions of pennies lurk in the corners of our homes and inside couch cushions and coin banks, their need may one day emerge.   When it costs 3 cents to make 1 cent, the logic of continuing to mint pennies seems ridiculous.  Hence, the penny's demise. But the penny once had...

 I continue to deal with the question of what to do with all the material things one manages to collect during a lifetime. I have downsized a bit, but there is always more.  What I'm finding is that it's much more difficult to throw away letters, cards, and photographs than objects. I want to give them some sort of ceremony before I put this ephemera in a trash can.  Burning things in a fireplace seems like the way to go, but that's not possible these days.  Tearing up things I would rather nobody read or see seems rather crude and cruel.  Sure, nobody will know, but it's difficult to destroy art and notes that were originally filled with love and concern. To make matters worse, I've recently been sent envelopes of similar things that once belonged to a good friend of mine.  After he died, his partner began sending me records, books, and some of his fly fishing gear.  Now I'm getting newspaper clippings, cards, and bits and pieces of his books, chapboo...