Oak Trees and Squirrels

I live in a wonderful place. There are wonderful places all over the country and all over the world but when you're lucky enough to live in one, that becomes the best for you and I think I have it.

I sat on my deck the other day overlooking Seneca Lake in the Finger Lakes region of New York State. I've written about Seneca before. It's long, slim, cold and deep - 600+ feet in some places. Its shores are a mix of cliffs and beaches. Above its shores are vineyards and orchards, small towns and villages with magnificent history and beauty.

My deck that looks over the lake sits among six massive old oak trees. I would guess their age at 100+ years and I may be underestimating. They are huge umbrellas that protect from too much sun or rain. I sit sometimes staring at these beauties wondering about what they've seen and heard in their lives. They are sturdy and strong but I worry when the west winds whip through in mid winter or during a summer storm. I watch as branches move with the wind, self pruning weaker bits and pieces. Down they come. They are home to birds, insects and squirrels. I have watched osprey, herons, crows and ducks fly in and land to perch in their branches. My wait and hope is for a Golden or Bald Eagle. The height of these trees is amazing. As branches sway you can sometimes see further up and it makes you dizzy.

It seems acorns on these huge oaks alternate every few years between so, so crops and bumper crops. This year is a bumper crop for my trees and the squirrels love it. I on the other hand like the alternate years. A bit less work and I'm less likely to fall on the marble like nuts all over the path down to the lake.

The squirrels themselves deserve some discussion here. I haven't done a lot of research on squirrels but I get the sense there is a pretty crazy social order. Of course if the squirrels are watching all of the activities on and around the lake, I'm sure they have their opinion about us.

My expierience watching the squirrels is that there are usually two or three, chasing each other all over the place from tree to tree. There seem to be a lot of territorial issues, neighborhoods that exist every few trees as it were. It can be fun to just watch the jumping and chasing. It can and will go on all day or until the aggressor tires. At times it looks like play but at other times it looks like all out war with screaming and spitting. Then there are the lazy days of summer when it gets hot and humid. The trees and the lake offer relief but every once in awhile the heat is unbearable for someone covered in fur. In those instances I've seen the squirrels spread out on a branch, sleeping or resting in the heat. I've actually seen one dose off and fall over 30 ft to the ground, scream, lay silent for a few moments, get up, shake it off and run back up the tree.

So here we are with multiple issues, beautiful trees, a bounty of acorns and a community of squirrels. I sit, listening to the quiet of the lake as an acorn falls to the deck 10 feet to my right. Then another falls, followed by a clump of leaves with two acorns still attached. Next, acorn pieces fall in a scattered fashion. I look above and through wiggling leaves see the culprit sitting on a branch gnawing on the next nut. When that one is finished, small claw feet reach out to grab another. One drops and then more pieces fall. Suddenly the squirrel jumps and moves on, running from branch to branch, bombarding me and the deck along the way. It's a cycle that will continue into early winter, squirrels filling their cheeks and shaking loose acorns while I dodge direct hits on the noggin as I sweep up or use a leaf blower to clear the deck.

I'm surrounded, hugged and protected by the sturdy oaks. We sit together in peace until the next round of acorn fire or a chase up, down and around a wide trunk with screams and taunts.

A Journey - Surviving Cancer

A lot has happened since I had colon surgery about 10 and 1/2 weeks ago. Initial time was spent recovering in the hospital, then at home. Diet challenges and changes have also been part of the recovery. Currently I'm eating pretty normally and enjoying it. I wrote earlier about my visit to an Oncologist who let me know that at least on paper, everything looks fine - nice operation, bad parts removed, good reports, etc. So a determination was made that there was no need for any further treatment at this time.

The other part of recovery is feeling like you can return to normal activities. It's part of feeling better. Along the way I think there's a tendency to overdo it. Sometimes that's ok, as long as your body talks back and tells you to slow down. I've always been pretty active (my opinion) and so I clearly wanted to get back to yard work, house projects, etc. My surgeon warned me that because of my previous abdominal surgeries I had a pretty high chance of a hernia or hernias. With all of that in mind, I held off on a lot of physical activity. More on that later.

The other part of recovery from major surgery is a tiredness and fatique. I've certainly experienced that and rest has been an important part of the process.

Diagnosis, surgery and recovery also present a lot of mental challenges, at least for me. Some of it has to do with the frustration of not doing what you think you should be doing or what you enjoy doing. There's also a lot of second guessing that takes place - am I too tired, should I be doing more, am I really ok, are doctors being honest with me? That by the way is a big one. I've wondered sometimes if there's a great conspiracy going on where everyone tells me I'm fine because they just don't want to give me the really bad news. People say "isn't it great, now you can take some time to read books, fish, start a new hobby". That sounds wonderful but I've found that it's not that easy. I'm not totally sure why that's the case. Some of it may be physical discomfort or a concentration issue along with the natural fatigue. I did read a few good mysteries. I also bought a copy of the US Constitution and Declaration of Independance for review and study. I find myself more interested in history. I upgraded my digital camera and I'm looking for some ways to get better at photography. I've also found more time for music of all kinds.

Now I'm in a new phase of healing I think. I've started to do more physically, but I've also recognized that I need help. I've found a fellow who can help with some of the heavier chores around the house and property. That has been very useful. I've started riding the lawn mower (I had hired that out for about 8 weeks). I believe I pulled an abdominal muscle at some point last week and I'm hoping I didn't instead cause a hernia. Anyway the pain I'm experiencing from that event has me thinking about other pains, maladies and discomfort. I don't think I'm that different from others who face Cancer and the journey we take with it. Every bump, lump, skin discoloration and pain becomes a significant concern. There is an uneasiness and sometimes fear. The mind is always busy connecting thoughts, knowledge and information. Sometimes, what would seem like the simplest conversation to some, connects you back to the reality of your situation and expierience with Cancer.

The reality is though that it is a journey, like most everything else we deal with in life. It's certainly good to have friends and support along the way. I have both and I'm grateful for that.

How Far We Haven't Come!

As someone who has fought for civil and human rights, I am absolutely amazed at how bad things seem to be in Ferguson and across the country when it comes to race and policing. Naively, I thought things had gotten better but the images I've seen over the past week prove that wrong.

Fifty years ago I watched as marchers got beaten back with clubs and trampled with horses in Selma, Al. Seeing that shocking image played out on TV, I decided to go to Selma and participate in the protests that ensued. Those times scared me. People did in fact get killed before, during and after the formal marches in Selma and Montgomery. I stood facing policeman and deputies with helmets, holstered pistols and clubs. We were taunted and spat upon, some of us beaten and jailed. The country, the courts and elected officials responded. Some and then many believed that change had swept the country. That was fifty years ago.

This week I watched in shock as I saw police officers pointing semi-automatic weapons at protesters, clubs be damned. I watched police dressed as soldiers shoot tear gas canisters from military vehicles. Some guns with bean bags and rubber bullets, but others, who knows? How far we haven't come. How did this happen and why aren't more people shocked at these methods of policing. Who's in charge was a question that screamed out throughout the week. And sadly we have other serious problems. People are seeing these events differently. There are those who think it's just a bunch of 'those people' making trouble and not letting justice just take care of things. There are those who think this is just one more left wing attack on US values being fed by outside agitators and an elitist media. But this is much, much deeper.

On the same day that everyone condemned the release of a video of the killing of James Foley, the St. Louis police released a video of a young, seemingly troubled black man, being shot by two police officers and few people blinked. Why are we so blind to obscenity wherever it exists? How far we haven't come.

Some of what we've accomplished over the past fifty years.....we've developed more modern weaponry then clubs and pistols. Interesting though, they're still in the arsenal. It's become acceptable for an investigative report to be written over a period of a week as witnesses and stories evolve and are made public. It's become acceptable to close ranks around an officer involved in a questionable shooting. It's acceptable that the New York Times reports that witness accounts of Michael Brown's shooting 'differ sharply' without any reporting or record of the sharp differences. How far we haven't come.

Racism is institutional. It gets passed from person to person, from generation to generation. It's also global. We need some institutional and global solutions. Policing and weaponry are also institutional and global issues.

I've met good and committed policeman. They exist probably more then we all think. They have difficult jobs, some may say impossible jobs. I've also seen good and impressive community policing. It exists, but probably depends on those good people mentioned above. Sadly, there are more Fergusons then anyone really wants to admit. We will see them exposed in the future. We need to think about how they continue to exist.

It's sad how far we haven't come.

Some Thoughts About Writing

As I've said before I really enjoy writing. It allows me to express thoughts that sometimes I don't know if I could communicate verbally. It allows for a thought process and also is pretty forgiving (my delete key).

It isn't easy though. It's hard and sometimes even painful. The same is probably true of every creative process. I tend to write in my head and sometimes getting the thoughts down on the screen or on paper doesn't happen quickly enough and thoughts and ideas are gone. Puff! Disappeared and lost at least for the moment. They may comeback but sometimes they are lost for good.

The point is however is that to write, you have to write. The process has to start. The beauty is that once you get the initial thoughts down, they can be changed, perfected, etc. But you have to start somewhere. I've found that sometimes the starting is often the biggest challenge, but it can be tackled by hitting that first key and composing the first sentence. No amount of staring at the screen or the pad will hurry it up or get it started. That first thought has to be put down.

I've had some people ask me about my audience and readership. Actually it's not something I think a lot about. I'm not sure if many writers spend time thinking about their audience especially as a measure of success. How well an idea is presented or how well a story is told is on the other hand something I think about a lot. Audiences and readership is what publishers probably think about -Who's reading? Is anyone reading? How much are we selling? The writer on the other hand can and most times does write for him or herself or to present an idea. The pleasure is in getting the word out, getting it to make sense, to share an idea or emotion.

We all have to find our muse and understand when and how it moves us. So pay attention to your own muse. It may lead you to writing, singing, painting, photography or so many other outlets that can be shared with others as you wish. The key is though to start doing whatever it is. Create.

Ferguson and Michael Brown Story Continue

The story from Ferguson, Mo. continues. Actually it's all of the stories from and about Ferguson. In reality these stories are also about the rest of the country. There are so many it can make you dizzy.

It's been 10 days and the protests and tensions continue in Ferguson. I've been watching the news and media coverage from the beginning. I've been trying to figure out what is the main message, information or story? But there are just too many.

We have the story of Michael Brown and his family. The sad reality that this family hasn't been able to bury their son or to grieve completely or even to process what may be happening around them. It also seems that people in authority haven't even tried to keep them informed about their son's death or whatever investigation is taking place.

There are also many stories about the Ferguson community. At this point some of these stories provide very different views and perspectives. Stories about policing and about police investigations as well as stories about the press, protestors and what seem to be serious violations of the First Amendment. There are clearly stories about race and justice, politics and accountability. I've been amazed for example, at the lack of civilian accountability throughout this whole process. No real presence or understanding it seems by the mayor and council members. No authority shown over the local police chief.

Then there's the bigger story - the one about the relationship between black people and white people in this country. That story includes an important discussion about the feelings that whites have about young blacks. That discussion has to be had.

These are all huge issues and won't be resolved quickly. They will continue as long as people grieve, feel ignored and as long as people in authority seemingly refuse to communicate timelines, processes or facts.

The demonstrations and protests seem a bit disorganized with no clear goals or leadership. The media and outside agitators are blamed by police for all of the troubles. This is a pretty simplistic and inaccurate response that has been used many times in the past when people legitimately protest injustice.

As darkness falls on Ferguson, many wait to see if tonight will be different. Perhaps the demonstrators will become more organized. Perhaps the police will find a way to protect property and allow public assembly and media coverage. Perhaps.

Follow-Up To Michael Brown Post

Yesterday I posted a piece about the tragedy of Michael Brown's death in Ferguson, Mo. That post seems like old news today. I was up into the early morning hours of August 14th watching news coverage of demonstrations and police response in Ferguson. The coverage I was watching started with the reporting of two reporters being arrested at a local McDonalds in Ferguson. It then became apparent that there was more to come. Throughout the coverage I watched as police broke up a crowd with tear gas, flash bombs and some reports of rubber bullets being shot at people.

Much of what I saw reminded me of actions taken 50 years ago by police in Selma, Al. Actions that resulted in thousands of people responding to assist the people of Selma and demonstrators in putting the spotlight on police behavior in that community.

What strikes me about the police actions in Ferguson is that no civilian authority seems to be stepping forward to monitor or direct these actions. Perhaps it is happening in the background but it certainly isn't obvious. There are videos showing police dismanteling lights and video cameras. There are multiple police agencies and coordination and authority seem to be confused. This morning, the Governor of Missouri, Jay Nixon, has expressed concern about police action relative to citizen's rights to assembly and protest and the medias' right to cover these activities. Local leaders in authority, the mayor and city council, have a responsibility to oversee and if necessary control police actions. That's how the relationship between policing authorities and civilian authorities is supposed to work. If it doesn't work that way we should all be concerned.

Michael Brown's Death - Another Tragedy

Another tragedy is an understatement I'm sure. It is one more instance of racial conflict to shake us out of our naivety or perhaps a comfort level believing that things like race and justice are really getting better. Haven't we come so far? The treatment of gays, women, people with disabilities, people of color, minorities in general - aren't we doing better? Of course on some level we are and we shouldn't lose site of those facts and stories. The reality is though, that the death of Michael Brown should bring us back to some harsh reality.

There is a lot to learn from his death and the events in Ferguson, Mo. The numbers relative to race tell a good bit of the story. Whites have left the city (St. Louis in this case but many others) for the suburbs and then the suburbs for new developments and the countryside. Blacks have followed suit also looking for better lives and lifestyles. But in many places, power remains with the new minority of whites. In Ferguson, blacks make up about 70% of the population while whites are at about 30%. Yet the mayor, police chief and five of six City Council members are white. This happens in so many communities. It's partly due to the mobility of people and their housing options and that people haven't established their own political roots in many cases. Of course there are lots of other reasons and politics and politicians are in that mix. it also turns out that only 3 of the 53 police officers in Ferguson are black. So racial imbalance is pretty evident. But what else?

Something strange is occurring in this country's policing modality. It's the militerization of the police. Look at the pictures of the police response in Ferguson. You will see photos of police in not just riot gear but camouflaged riot gear. What's this all about? They're certainly not in the woods. They're not supposed to be hunting or on a military mission. Then there are military vehicles, sand colored or black, used in cities across the country.  Some of this is related to all of the federal dollars and programs that fund our police agencies. The question is, how comfortable should any of us as citizens be with a milaterized police force? What's the mind set of the leaders and members of these forces. More and more it looks like a mind set of us vs them or the police vs the citizenry.

Relative to the incident itself one has to begin wondering about what kind of training and curriculum police agencies use relative to confrontations, arrests and deadly force. We hear it's extensive but we see chokeholds and shootings that seem to make little sense. Is the training failing or is the recruitment and supervision flawed? Plenty of room for both I'm sure.

I catch myself talking about 'young black men'. It's not the correct terminology. These are youngsters. Michael Brown was 18 years old, getting ready to go off to college in a few days. Young blacks, male and female, face challenges that I'll never know. Trained from their youth not to run with anything in their hand, to always have identification, to not argue with police and on and on. Michael Brown may have forgotten some of these things which may have resulted in his shooting. Michael Brown's death is a tragedy and there have been and will be others. In Ferguson and NYC and so many other places across the country, parties need to come together and talk about what has happened and how things can be prevented in the future. Leaders need to not just promote a calm approach but also refrain from overreacting to or blaming the violence that has resulted from any of these incidents. In a country where it has become acceptable to insult and mock a president based on his race or where armed militia believe they can and should stop refugees from crossing a border, there is a lot of work to do and a real need for leadership. We have to find and support those leaders wherever they're needed.

Some Of My Work Expierience

I was thinking the other day about some of my work experiences and how they've all impacted who and what I am. Like many, my earliest work experiences were around my own family's home as a young boy, mowing lawn and doing other kinds of outdoor work. Always loved it and still do. There's something about fresh cut lawns that impacts all of the senses - sight, smell, hearing and even taste as blades of grass sometimes fly in your face.

When I was in the eighth grade I worked as a kennel boy for a next door neighbor who raised Bedlington Terriers for sale and show. She had 15 to 20 dogs at any one time and they needed to be fed, groomed and cleaned up after. I accompanied her to dog shows and learned the trade as it were, assisted at the delivery of litters, etc. In High School this led me to working with a local Veterinarian. Considered becoming a Vet but that changed.

I worked at a department store as a stock clerk for a short time and did other manual labor along the way.

My time at the Catholic Worker in NYC provided me with a lot of variety of work. It included going to the food market to pick up donated cases of vegetables, cleaning and prepping the same, cooking for the daily soup line, sorting and distributing clothing to men and women on the Bowery and more.

There was also other work that I did at that time just to keep some money flowing. Sometimes the work was quite entrepreneurial, at least in my mind. My buddy Paul and I were trying to figure out how we could make some money to keep us going between our music, political activity and work at the Catholic Worker. As we were walking down to Chinatown one evening for a late night dinner, we noticed a fellow painting the steps at entrances to apartments next to each store. He used bright and different colors that made the neighborhood pop. He was talking to owners and convincing them to get their steps done. We thought that was cool but it was pretty specific to that place and culture.

The next day we were walking along 1st Ave. just looking around while we walked and talked. One of us noticed all of the metal gates  and grates that were folded during the day but opened, were locked and used to protect windows and entrances at night. Some were new with fresh coats of paint but most were old and rusted. A plan was hatched. We would go into the business of painting or repainting these gates. All it would take was some paint, brushes and hand mitts (the mitts were to get behind the diamond shaped openings in the gates). Oh and customers.

How would we get customers? That required some thought over a few beers and bingo we had it. We decided to invest in the supplies and paint one property for free. We'd use that great looking newly painted gate as our sales pitch and as an advertisement along the rest of the street. I seem to remember throwing in some small details about the fire inspector citing people for poorly maintained gates as well. It worked and we were successful for awhile. Our last job was for a fellow in the Village who insisted on a gold metallic paint. It was a big job. We did some of it during the day but couldn't close the gate all of the way. The owner liked the job but wanted it complete by morning. He wrote us a check and closed and locked the gate. Paul and I finished up and just as we were done it started to pour rain. We ran across the street under an overhang and watched as all of the metallic gold paint washed away onto the sidewalk and down the drain. We ran to find an open bank and that was the end of our business venture.

Then there was the railroad. The railroad company would recruit men from the Bowery to clean their tracks in the winter during snow storms. Work crews were taken in trains up the Hudson, halfway to Albany, to shovel snow and break up ice to clear switches along the tracks. Not very steady work but certainly an expierience. Trying to stay warm around a fire in a 55 gallon steel drum by the side of the train.

One of the best jobs I had in the City was as a deli runner down on Wall St. There were about seven or eight of us working for tips only at a great delicatessen downtown in the Financial District. Calls for sandwiches would come in, get bagged up and we'd be sent on our way, usually two shopping bags full of lunches. Sometimes a full bag to one office (those were the best because you'd be in and out quickly). Other times there could be ten stops for one bag. Lots of politics on who got what bag. Most deliveries were to office buildings. You'd go to the 35th floor, past reception to a conference room with 10 or 15 suited men, distribute sandwiches, collect the money and tips and move on. Everything was cash in those days so you were an easy mark for a robbery. Never happened to me but others experienced it. The job went from about 10am to 2pm.

Speaking of food, worked at a diner in the kitchen and also as an order taker, cook and server at an A&W Root Beer stand. Made mean Mama, Papa, and Jr. Burgers. Pots and pans at the diner and worked my way up to short order cook.

I also worked on farms, driving and learning to maintain tractors and other farm equipment. Actually tore down a tractor engine with another fellow and rebuilt it. That's surprising since today I sometimes have a hard time getting a lawnmower to start. There was also baling and loading hay, plowing, tilling and a little cattle herding thrown in.

For a very short time I worked in a food plant near Tivoli, NY where TV dinners were packaged. I was the guy at the beginning of the assembly line responsible for stacking the aluminum trays and dumping cases of frozen peas or corn into a chute above my head. Ladies sat on stools placing pats of butter on mashed potatoes coming from another chute that some poor soul was filling. Chicken pieces were placed as the main dish. All day long, usually mandated overtime with few breaks. Learned to cock the trays just right to jam the assembly machine. The women and the mashed potato guy and I got needed breaks that way. The job was short lived after breakdowns increased dramatically and the singing of union songs. I also picked fruit in season in the same neck of the woods. Cherries, peaches and apples. Got paid by quantity picked. Was very poor.

When I moved upstate my first job was working for a garden center and landscape firm. Commercial lawn cutting, cleanup, planting trees, etc. No work when it rained. Winter was snow removal with Front End Loaders, Grader and Dump Trucks with plows. We did commercial parking lots and a few school parking lots. One April the boss went out of town for the week and left me in charge. My wife, kids and I took a chance to go down to NYC to see some friends. I was just a phone call away. We heard Sunday morning that a late snow storm was heading into New York. Jumped in the car and started home. Hit snow in Liberty. It started getting deeper and deeper, coming down harder. Finally made it back to the Elmira area with about 6 inches of snow on the ground and still coming down. Got things plowed and caught up, but the boss heard about it from one of the customers. Got off with a scolding. Rough work. No heat in any of the equipment.

Went to work for a rehabilitation agency working with people with disabilities, ran a thrift store selling furniture and household items mainly to college students. Ran the print shop and mailroom and eventually became production manager. That was my entry into the field of vocational rehabilitation which took me in a whole new direction, with a few more stops along the way before I became the executive director of a non profit. I'm sure I've missed some things along the way. If I find more in some far off corner of my memory, I'll come back and add it. I guess those experiences all add up to something just not sure what yet. To be continued I'm sure.