'Now, We're Them'

~ Retirees at the 911 10th Anniversary ~

Her name was April … indeed pretty like the month of Spring. I didn’t know her well, but we were classmates in Junior High. I still remember the day when I heard someone ask, “Did you hear about April”? I said, “No”, “What”? She died Saturday night. A knot filled my throat. Moisture to my eyes. And I said, “But, she was not even thirteen”. “What happened”? I asked. My friend across the table looked up and said, “They say that she died of an overdose”. “An overdose?” I said! I had barely heard the word before. Today, for young teenagers, even preteens, it is a word that is a frequent part of their vocabulary. And yes, it had become a frequent word for my world in the 1960’s. Yet, still a word that wasn’t daily for this young teen.

Why do I mention miss April, some fifty-five years later? Other than an older family member or two, hers was the first death that was even remotely close to my surroundings … Close to my emotions. And now … as I sit here, closer to seventy than sixty, death … of someone close … it is now a regular occurrence. Then … death was typically that which I heard my mother, my father or a grandparent talk about. And, as they grew older, those occurrences became more, and more common. And now … I am … that is, "We are Them"!

I wrote about one such friend two years ago this month. In a blog entitled, ‘Gizmo ~~ A Very Good Friend’. I told of more than three dozen work projects that greatly connected our lives. Many of those projects were right here in the very home in which I sit to write this blog. It only takes but a glance at my front porch, my bathroom heater … at my Yamaha tailbag, or the siding of my garage … even at Station ‘80’ ,,, and ‘Gizmo’ automatically brings a smile.

There have been many others in the past few years. The memory of their lives … frequently pass with a smile, perhaps a tear as something reminds me of our moment together. Such as …

We shared the same station for twenty years of our career. He would become my first Paramedic partner. A great one at that! And though soon after he decided that he would no longer continue as a ‘Medic’ … I’m fairly sure it had nothing to do with me. Ha! Still, we spent many years training & working together. And … I don’t say this lightly … Mitch was the most diligent comrade that I ever had the privilege to work alongside. Now … that is in no way to 'diss' the remainder of you. Most of whom, we likewise shared a great many shifts in a Fire Engine, Rescue, Truck ... Boat ... and the Fire House. But Mitch ... he was of the most unique breed. I'm sure that most would agree.

For the years after his retirement, we often enjoyed a text, a coffee … or lunch together. Catching up was always easy. Like we had seen each other only days before … when usually it would be months.

And though many are the memories of my friend ‘Mitch’ … the biggest of smiles … it comes as I’m reminded of playing volleyball. The ball would be perfectly set … now, perfectly at the Fire House is not quite the same as Karch, Kerri or Misty May, but … perhaps close. Yeah, not even! ... So … I give it a good ole ‘perfect’ fire house set. The ball floats beautifully into the air. Mitch jumps … or is that … Mitch ‘perfectly’ jumps? :) The ball slowly settles back to earth. Mitch … with every appearance of a massive spike … Almost as if in slow motion … The ball lands upon his hands … and then … sike! ... He dinks the ball ever so gently to the side of the most unsuspecting player opposite of the net. And in harmony we shout … “MEEATCH”!

~ Mitchell's Retirement Pic ~

So … if I’m going to “Be Them” … I’m going to do so with smile. A smile of a memory. If only they could ALL be … “MEEATCH”! In honor of Mitchell Johnson. Rest in peace … friend … brother :)

Rest in Peace!

 

"You Are Not Him"

You’re set to begin that long awaited trip. Your bags are packed, snacks and drink are within arms reach. The itinerary is determined. One last stop before you begin this journey. Now, fueled up, you set the odometer and fuel indicator in order to gauge your distance and fuel consumption. And … you don’t give it one thought. Where did these simple, but intelligent devices originate?

Oh, but when you fueled that tank … you had no consideration, nor question, “What was the process in which brought this hydrocarbon to the pump”? And, he was there again.

Or, consider … the very laptop on which I type this unread blog. Those tiny semiconductors … at their infancy they contained a few thousand transistors. Then … in 1989 ‘Intel’ took that number to more than a million. And today … They hold more than 50 billion. Yes, you read correctly … Fifty Billion transistors! And once again, he was there.

'Orbital Welder' - Developed by RRW ++

I have written often, thought even more, about the man from whom I received my name, but never have I written about his accomplishments. Yes, the three stories above give insight to the amazing achievements of the man ‘Richard Ray’, my father. There are likely several that could attest to that which he, and the group of thinkers, whom were likewise those who brought many of our current-day conveniences, but I know personally only one, and he has since died.

My uncle Hiroshi ‘Mickey’ Imaizumi was that man. An internet search with the simple words, "Tokyo Olympics and expert welder", will bring you to one of the last articles about, not just Mickey’s achievements, but that of my father as well. They were entrepreneurs, from an exclusive group of men who indeed revolutionized what is now our modern devices. The good news … a couple years prior to his death, I was able to visit Uncle ‘Mickey’ one last time.

Kunitaka Imaizumi, uncle ‘Mickey’s’ youngest, spent nine months of his International studies at the University of Oregon, during the 2019 school year. In July of that year, Uncle Mickey and his lovely wife, Kyoung Mee, made a brief visit to Oregon, spending time indeed with Kunitaka, but as well with Karen and myself. Those final conversations provided many laughs, plus several old and new memories of himself and my father. That time told of the brilliance that would be theirs together. And as well, the story of how much money they, and in particular, my father made from the above inventions. And then … the sources of where that money found its home. FYI, that home never went into the direction of his own children. Note … not that this was ever the expectation, but … just saying.

And here … Is where the dilemma arises between the entrepreneur and the father. Part of that dilemma, is on one hand, not to disgrace my father’s name. Yet, on the other hand, to likewise not sweep under the proverbial rug, the true aspect of ‘father’.

What would have been my father’s eighty-fifth birthday, passed only a couple weeks ago, and my thoughts once again asked, “How might it have been different”? Sure in my adult life, there could have been a few things that I could have changed. Would it have made a difference? Not likely! But, perhaps. It is those childhood memories that unfortunately regularly remind me of the fact that, “You Are Not Him”!

Inspired from a scene in the movie, ‘Boys in the Boat’, that we watched on the premier day of Christmas. I imagine on one hand that the movie took theatrical license with the line. Yet, understanding the story, if these words were not directly spoken, they were in fact the reality.

So yes, I was not him! That is, I was not ... and I am not my father. On one hand I was nothing in comparison to his brilliant mind and entrepreneur focus. But, as he at times attempted to be a father, and in his defense, there were moments, very brief, but moments nonetheless, what would different look like? If I could have my childhood back … I would ask for an intentional father. I would ask for a father who was involved. I would willingly have a father who had none of his accomplishments. I would have had a father who said, “I love you son”! And, “I am proud of you Rick”!

I thank my Heavenly Father, who continues to mold this man to intentionally attempt to be the best earthly father that I can be. Am I there? Indeed not! But I hope … until my dying day, that this will be my goal. And in this … I strive to be ... "Not Him".

 

Though a long video ... if you went to minute 4, you would discover the applications of which those entrepreneur's, such as Mickey & my father developed starting in the 1960's. His name, you'll likely never find it within the 'orbital welding' literature. Nonetheless, his fingerprints remain :)

 

Mercy ALWAYS Trumps Policy ...

 I can’t remember when this saying became part of my repertoire, but this story dates back to July 2018.

After four straight years of multiple week motorcycle trips, Karen & I determined to take a less adventurous, yet none-the-less, eventful ride. With more than fifty thousand miles on the Goldwing, some ten thousands of those upon 2017’s epic cross-country to Florida, other than routine maintenance, repair is a seldom used word within Honda’s vocabulary. 

The thirty miles between Kettleman City and Lost Hills, California, would prove to be the most trying experience on the ‘Wing’.  Only a couple miles away from our ‘In-N-Out’ burger did I first notice a brown substance. Honestly, at first glance, I thought that my ‘Butler’ drink container had somehow overflowed, and it was my root beer. If you’ve not driven this section of I-5, especially in the middle of summer ,,, well then … you have no idea. An arrow could not be straighter. With only two Off-Ramps to apparently nowhere, and the thermometer reaching 104 degrees … shade is not only a welcomed site, but a mandatory requirement!

Almost immediately I unfortunately realized that this was not my root beer. My next assumption was engine oil, but I would not be able to determine the exact source until we were able to stop. But did I mention, I-5, 104 degrees, and oh … NO shade. Connected via our Bluetooth, I pleaded with Karen to find us shade. A momentary stop under an overpass at least answered the likely source. It appeared to be a blown front left fork seal. With heavy traffic, this was not a place for a thorough examination. Finally, the third exit provided the most desirable shade that I’d ever seen. 

Protected by the Chevron building, I parked directly in the very open, and VERY shaded, front area. Before dismantling the ‘Wing’ for inspection, I was off to the little boys room. Big boys need it as well, especially after Dad’s Root Beer. No sooner upon my return, Karen said, “The manager says that this parking is only for the senior manager”. And I immediately thought, “Not today”! An area that could easily park three vehicles, this motorcycle found the perfect repair shop. I did say that it was a clear, open, shaded, spot…in 104 degrees temperature?

Quickly disassembled, I confirmed that the front fork seal was indeed the culprit. But, no sooner did I have the last screw off, did the early twenty-something female manager request that I move the bike. “You are kidding me, correct “? “No”, she said. “This area is for our managers only”. “But, no one is here, and there is plenty of space when he returns”. “Sorry, but you’ll have to move”. “To where”? I asked. “Oh, just around the corner”. So with opened area that could hold three vehicles, I was being asked to move my disassembled bike a mere ten feet.

To this young managers credit, she was calm. For me, honestly, I was mostly calm. But I did inform her a couple times of my very famous saying … “Mercy ALWAYS Trumps policy”! Oh, you have not heard it? Well then ... :) Not likely that she remembers the saying. But I would hope … that she has at least a grasp of the concept.

An ensuing call to my motorcycle mechanic, and it was determined that the Goldwing should be able to travel the additional 170 miles to Long Beach. Tim said, “Drive gingerly and you should be just fine”. Enroute, I made a couple calls to my sister, asking if she’d do a quick search of potential motorcycle repair shops in her vicinity. Yet, I imagined that the chance that one would have any availability to repair the likely ‘fork’ problem, would be slim to nil.

The following day I drove the ‘Wing’ to Mid-City Honda in Paramount, California. That was a Friday, and much to my surprise, the Service agent thought that they could have the bike returned to me by Monday, or Tuesday at the latest. Indeed, sweet news to my ears. Honestly I had thought that it might take weeks to get the bike even to be seen, and that Karen and I would have to fly home and that I'd return at a later date

A couple of days later, with a repaired Goldwing, Karen and I returned to Oregon. Enjoying the east side of the Sierra’s along US 395, through Lake Tahoe and Oregon’s ‘Summer Lake’.

I’m frequently reminded of this saying, “Mercy Always trumps Policy”. Rules and policy … they will always be necessary. But … as well, frequently there will be the case when the ‘Best Policy’ is to be an instrument of mercy. A lesson, in which I know ... can become a breath of fresh air ... and of peace.

 

So … Where Are You From? ~ Cultural Curiosity ~

Being curious about people has always been a significant part of my life. A memory that takes me back to a very young age is one when I joined my mother at work. I’m not sure how long mom worked for the Inglewood school district, or why I was even there, but I remember this moment. 

 I know that I had seen black people before, and was told that when we lived in the south, that I even had a ‘mammy’ as a toddler. Perhaps it was the amount of black people that took me by surprise. I was only curious about their different color, and that their hair was different. I’ve always been thankful to mom for this moment. You see ~ all I can remember is my mother laughing, chatting and working with black people, in the very same way she did with our family or any white people for that matter. They were ONLY different, yet not different.

~ Enjoying our Differences ~

Move ahead to July of 1991. We’re returning from our six week east coast adventure. Having visited family in New England, Karen & I were relaxing by the pool with our two sons, near Disneyland Florida. Only twenty feet away was another family with two young daughters, about the age of our youngest. Enjoying the deep, heavy accent, I leaned over and asked, “Where are you from”? Without a skip, the father responded, “New York”! We both chuckled, and I said, “Before New York”? Again he chuckled, and said, with that distinct heavy accent, “Russia”! ~~ The ensuing three hours were met with more laughter, funny stories and a meal, where we introduced them to Mexican food. Which, they thought was a great idea, but might be tricky, in that as being Jewish, they could not have meat & diary in the same meal.

 The Soviet Union would collapse a few months later. This family had made it to America searching for a new start. Though its beginning was met with difficulty, the father said that he discovered that with hard work, he was now finding victory. Something that he never found in Russia. A leather workmen by trade, business was now such that they were able to enjoy this amazing vacation.

 

Now, some thirty-two years later, the memory is as real as yesterday. Why? Because we were curious. And that curiosity lead to learning ~~ to discovery ~~ to new friends.

That very same scenario has played out countless times throughout my life. And again I say, “Thank you mom”!!! You have given me, given all of your children such an amazing gift!

As Karen & I have concluded a three week motorcycle adventure to the Southwest United States, especially the National parks in southern Utah, we’ve been touched by the interaction with complete strangers. Strangers, who most often have a different, but cool accent. Or, perhaps it is I who have the cool accent. Just saying! Strangers who often look the same, yet … other times, most definitely different. Strangers, who but for a moment become friends. Friends from a different country ~~ a different culture ~~ and sometimes, a completely different appearance. But for that moment … FRIENDS! ~~ There were French, German, Swedes, and Bulgarians. There were British, Japanese, Indian, and African. Some from Canada, some from Mexico.  Others from Russia, and Korea. And, even some from the United States. Indeed! We had some things in common ~~ we were ALL traveling. Even some, as well on motorcycles. Also, we ALL have the same color of blood. But, it was our life’s journey, from different locations on of this most amazing planet, that added such an incredible dimension to our moment in time. 

So … to ask, “Where are you from”? I’m sorry, that is NOT a racist question! That is called curiosity. And I have discovered that curiosity has opened my eyes to the most amazing people from every part of this globe. Let’s not fear, rather ~~ let us be those who discover the beauty in the other. 

Gustave Doré - The Good Samaritan

Twice ~~ in the New Testament ~~ once as a parable & the other a story ~~ are about those 'other' people, called the Samaritans. They were different people, yet not so different. The parable of the ‘Good Samaritan’. All walked past the injured man. All, except the Samaritan! He treated the injured man as himself, or as his own blood. And the other ... a story ~~ a story of Jesus just striking up a conversation with a woman from Samaria. He treated the different as not so different. This encounter changed her life & perhaps the lives of countless others. So again I say … “Let us be those who discover the beauty in the other.” It might just change their world. And ours ~ at the same time :) 

To Plan, or Not To Plan

 Forty-four — When thinking of baseball, there’s none greater than ‘Hammerin Hank’ Aaron. It was on this day (September 29, 1973) Fifty years ago today that the ‘Hammer’ hit his 713th Home Run. One shy of trying the great Babe Ruth, at 714. He would have to wait for the following season to first tie, and then on April 8, 1974 … Brave’s announcer Milo Hamilton describes it this way, “Henry Aaron, in the second inning walked and scored. He's sittin' on 714. Here's the pitch by Downing. Swinging. There's a drive into left-center field. That ball is gonna be-eee ... Outta here! It's gone! It's 715! There's a new home run champion of all time, and it's Henry Aaron! The fireworks are going. Henry Aaron is coming around third. His teammates are at home plate. And listen to this crowd!”

And now … that number ‘forty-four’ … plays a totally different significance. That is … Forty-four years years ago today … Miss Karen and I made vows to become husband & wife. And what are two sixty something folks to do in order to commemorate that special time? Well … a three-week motorcycle adventure … of course 🤠🏍

Typically there would be significant planning involved. But, with two previous trips, only weeks apart, the thought was to “Wing it”, on the Goldwing. Ha! That should not be a problem! Kids in school, and being Fall. So you could imagine the surprise when I decided to at least make a little bit of preparation, a week before our trip. I came to discover that literally, the rest of the world had the same plan. Only ~ they had made reservations :)

Picture by: Jessica Goehring

Scurrying to catch up, I determined to make some reservations. In the process, I discovered higher prices than imagined, and a couple particulars in regards to entrance into some National Parks. Arches, for example, did you know that they require a ‘Timed Entry Permit’? Yeah, well, I did not have a clue! The NPS had determined that they had to attempt to reduce the congestion after visitation has nearly doubled in the decade from 2011-2021. Their trial solution is to offer a $2 entry ticket. Apparently other knuckleheads are aware of this :( And they obtained their tickets within the three months window. And now, all that is available are those at the 3pm time. The good news … the NPS has provided two other options for those who lacked planning, such as ‘moi’. One, you can arrive before 7am or after 7pm. Or two, go onto their website at 6pm the night prior to your arrival, and wala … they have set some aside (up to 100 tickets) for those of us who were clueless. Thank you very much! 

All this to say … from here out … known to be a ‘planner’ … will definitely be a tad more mindful with such adventures in the future.

And for now … Happy Anniversary to my bride of Forty-Four years! I love you dearly Miss Karen! Let us go visit ‘Zion’ …..

How do you obtain your ‘Timed Entry Permit’? First, you’ll need to have a NPS account.  Go onto https://www.recreation.gov/ within three months from your date of arrival. If you've missed that window (as I did), then likewise go to their site at 6pm MST the day prior to your “Planned” entry. Click onto ‘Tickets and Tours’ — Select the location. For mine, I clicked onto, ‘Arches National Park Timed Entry’ and chose the ‘personal vehicle or motorcycle’, the date, and the desired entry window. I suggest you be prompt. I’ve tested this operation three different nights. The tickets are limited from 73-99 for the various time slots. They will go quickly. 

Was It Worth It?

Owyhee ~ Beautiful Oregon!!

 A trip in the planning for months, almost did not happen. The main purpose and itinerary was for Miko
and I ... to adventure the back country of Southeast Oregon. Areas of which I’ve enjoyed via my motorcycle, but with a street bike ~ the back-country ... does not happen. So … to capture the ‘Hart Mountains’, the ‘Steens’ and ‘Owyhee Canyon’, were our targets.

Only twenty miles south of home, we were struck with our first trip delay. Two hours of attempting to resolve a ‘Climate Control’ issue on the F150, were met with unsatisfactory results. With temperatures projected to have an unseasonably high forecast in the upper 80’s and lower 90’s … should we continue? With paragraph one above ~ absolutely! The manual windows will have to be sufficient. Ha!

It would be the first of three VERY potential setbacks. Though, the most favorable. This is due to the fact that later that very afternoon, the control spontaneously corrected itself, and wala … Cool air and AC were once again gratefully appreciated.

A second purpose to this trip was to capture some on our Oregon ABCity Tour list. Successfully, we enjoyed the likes of LaPine, Lakeview, Lime and Lawen. Likely, many have visited the first two ~ but Lime and Lawen. Where in the world is Waldo?

Hart Mtn Sunset

Visually, the majestic wonders of the ‘Hart Mountains’ and ‘Owyhee’ were more than can be imagined. The ‘Steens’, unfortunately must wait for another day. At over 9,000 feet, and with the heavy Pacific coast snowfall in 2023, yeah … the road was closed.

Our route then drove us along the most picturesque west side of the Steens. Always with phenomenal beauty. After a belly stuffing ‘Fields Station’ milkshake, we made our way to the ‘Alvord’ desert and a night at the Hot Springs. After a quick hike along ‘Pike’ creek, we returned to camp, where I enjoyed both the sunset, and the following morning, the sunrise from the hot springs. Cool indeed! Well, perhaps … ‘Hot’ indeed!

BTW … By the way … the Alvord Desert is home to the fastest women on four wheels. Jessi Combs reached 522.783 miles per hour in her Supersonic Speed Challenger. Said to be essentially a ‘F-104’ jet. Sadly, Jessi died obtaining that record four years ago today, on August 27, 2019. Doing so, she was able to break the previous record by Kitty O’Neil’s 1976 of 512 miles per hour. Yikes!

Alvord Desert

Our next stop was a brief, but well worth view of the ‘Pillars of Rome’. You haven’t heard, nor seen them, have you? Most have not! Yet, once again, a delightful site to see. After a wonderful burger at Rome Station, Miko and I were off to the highlight destination of the week …

Having driven along the ION (Idaho-Oregon-Nevada) Highway a couple times now, I greatly wanted to visit this place called ‘Owyhee’. Tom & I had made camp once along the Owyhee river, but not even the photos online were about to prepare me for what was in store. But first … our second trip delay would occur. Fifteen of twenty-five miles along gravel roads into the Canyon, I caught a glimpse of one of those unfortunate ‘idiot’ lights. Fortunately, this ‘idiot’ took heed to make a quick check. Only two weeks prior, had the same light, for the tire sensor, had illumined. For that one, a quick repair at Les Schwab, discovered that the value stem on the back right tire was the culprit. Much to my surprise … it was the same tire. But, ironically … a totally different problem. Nope, this time … a definite screw had found its home within that very tire. An hour change, that included videoing my endeavors, (for a future post) and we were rolling again.

The ‘Slocum Creek’ campground is nothing to write home about, but the drive into, the hiking around and two wonderful kayak adventures on the Lake/Reservoir … yeah, priceless! I kid you not, when I say that this may be the MOST beautiful place in Oregon. I know … that is saying a lot. For this State ~ oh baby, is simply the MOST beautiful State in the Union. This I know to be true. Indeed!

Early in the morning, Miko and I spent more than three hours heading southward on the lake, attempting to arrive at what I was told, a spectacular hot springs. Though with surprisingly strong intermittent winds ever increasing, this old dude decided that we should return. Arriving at the campsite, we discovered some new guest. With rambunctious … just having fun … kids, Miko decided that we should move on and discover more beauty. But … as we were quickly to discover … this would almost immediately bring about ‘trip delay’ numero tres. Ouch!!!

Less than ten minutes from our campsite, while enjoying the immense beauty of majestic rocks … and heading along a 1 ½ vehicle width area … someone, yes, someone … may have not been paying attention to the extremely very soft shoulder. Did I say very extreme … or, extremely very … does it matter? The result … a five hour delay of plans … a thirteen hundred dollar tow bill … yep, you read that correctly $1,300 … and a nights stay at the Motel Super 8. And why is it called ‘Super’? BUT ~~ thanks be to God … the F150 did not roll! Miko does not have PTSD, and ‘Code Red’ towing, masterfully pulled that puppy out of an otherwise non-apparent ditch.

The title of this blog … “Was it Worth the View”? I need to credit one of the ‘Super 8’ front desk ladies. And though … never … no, never … do I want that near roll experience, yes, it was worth the view! Ha!

Crane Hot Springs

But Oregon … as always, keeps providing more beauty. Such was the case for our last couple of nights. A stop at Crane Hot Springs and finally a lone stay on the shore of Delintment Lake, brought our most wonderful week trip to an end. A definitely wonderful site and three excursions in the kayak just continue to bring delightful beauty, rest and joy. And to think, only five minutes before, on our fifth kayak adventure of this week-long trip … I was surprisingly thinking how little Miko had not fallen into the water. Even then … someone might have missed part of his adventure. Glancing, I saw his head on the right side of the bow. It was his back paws … where were they? Oh … the little fella had slid off and his back paws were somehow tangled a tad, in the bungee-cord, which I had attached to the bow in order to hold a mat on top of the kayak. All week he had been amazingly successful to remain at top … at least until he wasn’t. Fortunately for the puppy, we were only twenty yards from the shore. The great news … for a dog at least … again, no apparent PTSD.

Delintment Lake

I believe that even with our trip delays and mishaps … Miko would say as well, if he could … Indeed, it was worth it!

 

 

 

 

I Don’t Do Diapers!

I know a guy … while performing emergency medical procedures on a cardiac arrest victim … saw the intense display of anguish, in the tear-filled eyes of loved ones who prayed for another day. He saw the horror of fellow comrades, as they extinguished the final flames that incinerated four unsuspecting laborers as they were driving home from their job site.

This same guy timed an amazing group of paralyzed veterans, who pulled themselves through the water, no legs propelling them, as they raced toward the finish line. A personal record perhaps, yet no fanfare the following morning … not even an honorable mention in the local newspaper. Or, the other vets who plowed their adaptive wheelchairs into to each other, as they scrum in pursuit of another goal.

Earlier in the year he gathered vital signs, a medical history, and listened to their stories. Mothers, and their children, living with daily fear, knowing that their cartel husbands would one day be released from prison.

He smiled, and he cried … watching Isabel, who returned for her second year of baseball camp. Never to become a ballplayer. But this is why he brings baseball to the children of Mexico. She listens intensely, to capture every detail from her coach. And then … a swing … the ball dribbles down the third base line. She runs … a smile, her hair lifting in the wind as she crosses first base. ~~ Two days later he arrives at her home, delivering an awesome chicken enchilada casserole. Steam still escaping from the corners of the foil. She greets him outside … a younger brother … a kid sister … playing amidst the debris in which is their yard. Less has been seen from the dump near his own home. Their house … four walls, a door and a window. Its’ size … less than his own master bedroom. They smile, they survive … they’re grateful!

Four ‘Zephyr Valves’ placed. And now … three days required to reach the other side of the worst of complications. Conversations enjoyed … beating his kid brother in a game of cards. Living on the positive side, all while residing in University Hospital.

There have been … and will be … others who have seen … who have experienced … life with greater significance. But … what has been his life … Has been a path of seeing the world ~ in their worst of days.

This guy … he recently received a series of correspondence regarding a club that he runs. There are a few grumbling about some silly and overly insignificant rules. The drama of it all … when …

I ask … How is it … When our world is filled with so much broken … That some … they can be more about the drama … More about whining over such things of insignificance … Than seeing and being the significance for others ~ in their moment.

He challenges you … set aside the game. Be grateful for the simple beauty … that can be found in a game. Play for the joy! Realize what is yours … and maintain your compass on life’s true heading. That’s what he has discovered. And in doing such … he has determined that he no longer does diapers. You can wallow in your own crap if you so desire. But for me … ‘I Don’t Do Diapers’!

 

 

Today is the two year anniversary when the Biden Administration abandoned in Afghanistan the precious lives of David L. Espinoza, Nicole L. Gee, Taylor Hoover, Ryan C. Knauss, Hunter Lopez, Rylee J. McCollum, Dylan R. Merola, Kareem M. Nikoui, Daegan W. Page, Johanny Rosario Pichardo, Humberto A. Sanchez, Jared M. Schmitz, and Maxton W. Soviak … they were determined to be of little significance. Today ... they should be two years older. Instead, their families continue to ask and search for answers. Only weak apologies offered. Let them not be forgotten! ~~ Let us live in such a manner that we correctly measure life according to the significance of others … and not … of things.