GOING DOWN TO THE MEAN STREETS OF PHOENIX

I GO WITH SOME RELUCTANCE

 Because I'm very happy on this hilltop outside Sedona, Az.  

 Looking south, I see the fascinating/ghost town of Jerome perched on the side of Mingus Mountain.

And almost every day I have visitors from the sky.

Sometimes they land only yards from my camp.

And here, I am in easy reach of friends who drop by.  This is Joseph Smyth, an important architect whose imaginative design work you may have seen in the childrens hospital of Washington, DC.

 I am so thankful for my friends--That's Kat on the left and her visiting sister Bronwen.

who come this day bringing dinner.

 So I leave my cozy campsite and go down toward Phoenix, spending the night here at a side road north of  town.

Then settle in here in the parking lot of the American Legion next to this law office.

The prices alone should tell you the kind of neighborhood I'm in.  I'm within a fenced area so I'm secure enough. 

A walk around the block shows I'm living near the homeless. This carefully constructed "den".....

was torn apart the next day by vandals.  

Parked near me is this fellow RVer , bold enough to live on the street.

On the back of his rig is this bit of profundity:  "You are the universe experiencing itself" --which I regard as truth.  I wanted to ask him:  and therefore---what?

Here's an interesting work of art right behind me.  A Jackson Pollock piece?

And nearby is this patriotic work of art.

And down the block this noble Indian.

And this classic work on a flower pot.

Here's an appealing coffee shop/ tattoo parlor

next door to a philosophy shop.  I meant to come experience this place but didn't get around to it--

because I had to take care of this little hospital chore--a colonoscopy.
Meet one of my oldest travel friends---Brenda Harris---who drove across town to shephard me through the process.  Some years ago, Brenda took a week out of her life to teach me how to operate a computer.  There are two poems about her in my book.

Next day--while walking the mean streets , I came across this lump of stuff on the sidewalk,

laid back a flap and discovered a body--it was totally unresponsive to voice or touch.  Eventually I saw that it was breathing.  I have a friend who'se an expert in these matters, so I called him for advice on what I should do.  His very surprising answer was:  NOTHING.   "As tempting as it is to rescue or get cops involved, or even buy him a meal---ANYTHING you do to ease his situation is ENABLEMENT and you become part of his problem."

I returned later in the afternoon--and he was still totally unresponsive.  I took my friend's advice and did nothing.  The story of the good samaritan crossed my mind---can it possibly be that alcoholics are a special class of (self?) victimized people that (when the whole picture is considered) should be left alone to die on the street.
That may be my best option but I believe society has a better option:  If I had my way, we would gently, humanely, educationally restrain him in some lovely place ---for years if necessary--until we could be aabsolutely sure he was over his alcohol addiction.  (how could you ever be sure?--easy--put small amounts of alcohol within easy reach.  When he could resist for months on end--we could release him)

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  I'm not done with the streets of Phoenix---I want to show you the glitzy side of things in my next post.

RANDY RANTS ABOUT SEXUAL AGRESSION---AN ESSAY FOR THE LADIES

YES, I CAN SEE, YOU ARE ENRAGED AT SEXUAL AGRESSION AND YOU HAVE FOUND YOUR VOICE---AND UNITED---AND HAVE OUTED A FEW DOZEN OFFENDORS---AND ARE DRAGGING THEM TOWARD THE GALLOWS.

BEFORE YOU PULL THAT LEVER SENDING THEM TO THEIR VARIOUS DOOMS: PLEASE, ASK YOURSELVES THREE QUESTIONS:

1. WHAT IS THE REAL CAUSE OF THIS PROBLEM?
     It goes back a million years when our monkey-like ansestors were morphing into humans.
     Female sexual organs changed from OBVIOUS ESTRUS (sexual readiness--swollen rumps,smells and such)
     to HIDDEN ESTRUS---a big big difference--with this consequence:  HUMAN MALES CANNOT     
     EASILY SEE WHEN SEXUAL ADVANCES ARE WELCOME. we are left guessing.
     AND WE ARE (almost) EVER READY for sex.
     Remind yourselves that sexual advances---yes even agression was necessary for evolution to
     proceed.  Gentle lions have no offspring--nor gentle humans-to-be. We inherited this drive   
     naturally from the most agressive of our species.  If you cannot learn to appreciate this fact--
     at least acknowledge it.
     The sexual urges we males carry around with us ALWAYS, are ten times as powerful (I daresay) as
     those you occasionally feel.  It takes some effort to constrain ourselves.

     During the million year transition to human we forcibly took the sex we wanted.  It was the quickest, easiest, ( understandable ?) solution to our driving need.  We gave your feelings little thought.

     When agriculture, culture and civilization came along, we evolved some (moderating?) traditions
     but men still had the driving genes and so continued to agress against women in new ways.  5000
     years of this brings us to now.  We men still have our drive but you are ready to stop the agression.

2.  So I now ask a question that furious ladies seem not to ask:  WHAT IS A REASONABLE
     PUNISHMENT FOR SEXUAL AGRESSION?  Do you want to kill Harvey Weinstein?
     Remember that all us males carry his (type) of genes.   For perspective, consider cases of out-of-
     control anger--another evolutionary heritage.  We usually give agressors second chances--sentence
     them to anger management classes or porportional jail sentences.  I'm always stunned to see rapist
     sentenced to longer jail terms than murderers.

3.  SO WHAT IS THE FIX FOR THESE
     NATURALLY OCCURING DRIVES.  Can we have a reasonable discussion?

     Norwegian countries are well on the way to fixing the problem.  For example:
     Girls are given special classes in understanding, deflecting, dodging male sexual agression.
     They are clearly apprised of the strength of male lust.  I heard one such class where the girls are
     bluntly told the evolutionary truth about the huge disparity of lust and agression between men and       women.  Men, they said, will lie, cheat, promise, deceive, manipulate, badger you for sex.  They are wired
     that way.  Your task is to intelligently deal with this huge disparity of desire and only have sex when you feel you are ready.  Then they show
     them lots of ways to do this.

     I think the boys are given classes too---approximately saying to them:  Gentlemen, we have
     inherited some powerful feelings.  We must learn to control them.  It is the right thing to do---and--if we don't--- society will put us in jail.
     Here are some suggestions: Upgrade your charm, learn patience, learn to win a lady's favors, masterbate etc. (sounds
     reasonable to me)

FINAL PHILOSOPHICAL WORD:  In reviewing my last 40 years of sexual activity  I have developed some sympathy for the Weinsteins, Clintons, Kennedys and others who've gotten their hands caught in the cookie jar.  I'm happily, not in jail-- and determined not to cross the line of unwelcome advances.

HORSEPUZZLES AND OTHER ROAD MOMENTS

I'M PARKED ATOP A HILL MIDWAY BETWEEN COTTONWOOD AND SEDONA, AZ.

Here's my view.  One of my "neighbors," about two miles to the right is Senator John McCain.

Here's a week-long experience that I've not reported on:  This 20,000 plus acre piece of land is a gift to you the American Public and to all the animals that call it home.  It was purchased and protected by the smartest of all environmental organizations: The NATURE CONSERVANCY.  Thats my rig down there, parking free and hiking the trails.  Check them out and be persuaded , as I am, that they are our best hope for saving the planet:  The Nature Conservancy

Meet Curt and Hillary---A match made in heaven, I think:  He is a Jet Blue Captain and she is a horse trainer.  Both love horses.  They stopped here for a few days to ride the trails.  That gigantic rig carries three horses, all their gear and feed as well as comfortable housing for the two of them.

This day they are off for an all day ride.  They offered me the third horse.  I declined.

That facial mask protects the horse's eyes from insects.

And there , dear readers is a HORSEPUZZLE.  a puzzle for a horse---a hay bag made of a net--with tantalizing stems of the good stuff sticking out here and there.  When the horse pulls on a stem, a fair size bite come out of the bag.  They love it!  Will nibble at it for hours.  The puzzle comes in three degrees ---easy---(wide holes) medium--(smaller holes) and hard--(small holes).

I  watched for long minutes and am ready to declare that horsepuzzles are MEANING GENERATORS  for horses. (an equine rubics cube)

A wonderful invention!

Hillary, dressed to ride

Then I dropped in to visit an old friend.

Regular readers will recognize Paul Namkung, a friend  who lives in Tierra Amarillo, NM---owns the three ravens coffee shop and builds  these wonderful drums.  Check out their terrific sound here.

Then off I went to EL Paso, TX headed for Louisiana---but first, I need a root canal--desperately.  So I screwed up my courage, walked into Juarez, Mexico and eventually found this 77 year old dentist who specializes in root canals.  Yes, I laid down in that ancient chair and let him go to work.  Guess what---he did a fine job--problem solved in an hour.  Cost: $180.

Memorabilia from my Louisiana trip--That's me 40 years ago

My daughter Christine at her grandmother's grave.

They never met, but I know they would have loved each other.

Back in Santa Fe--a triumphal moment--persuading this mechanic to refund me $200 for an overcharge. He did so with reasonable good will.

Then back to Cottonwood, Az---a beautiful place for fall.  Balloons overhead almost every morning.

Kat nd I dancing at a Jazz contest.

There you are folks, a real live Arizona Ranger.

Hopefully an historic moment.  That's Kathy Reese on the left, founder of  a new organization:

BOONDOCKERS UNITED  whose mission is to give us boondockers a focused voice in dealing with the Forestry Service and the BLM. Check it out here. That pile of trash is our first project--we pitched in and made it disappear.

Here's the bumper sticker Kathy designed and that members will display.

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  Life comes to us in moments.  I've selected the 17 above because I have picts to illustrate them,    I planned to think about them and come up with some unifying theme or principle to philosophize about. Truthfully, however, my life seems a hodge podge of disjointed events.  I don't seem to be headed anywhere,

THEN I HAD AN IDEA:  I asked my daughter about the hodge podge of moments that make up our lives.  How can we think positively about them?  Here's what she said: Maybe the moments of our life are like a patchwork quilt--separately they seem ragged and insignificant, but perhaps over time we are piecing together a warming blanket of character.   

I almost wept for joy!  My daughter---my lovely daughter--IS A PHILOSOPHER!