Monday's Poetry: "Vincent"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

I have probably told this story before, but it can stand repeating.  Years ago while listening to a talk on the romantic poets that was being given by a very knowledgeable and enthusiastic instructor, the lady suddenly went off on a tangent as to what she perceived as a lack of practicing poets in contemporary society.  In an expression of exasperation, she reached backward and struck the chalkboard with her fist as she declared, "Where are today's poets?"

Well, aside from the fact that there are some very good poets currently practicing there craft, there are also many poets who choose to package their verse as songs.   The professor, who was also a friend of mine, had obviously not spent enough time listening to the lyrics of Lennon and McCartney, Simon and Garfunkel, Elton John, Carole King, or even Dolly Parton.

A couple of weeks ago as I was driving home from Kansas City - just after the Cuba trip - Don McLean's beautiful ode to painter Vincent van Gogh, came on the radio, and I quickly became lost in the portrait that McLean had painted with his words and his wonderful voice.  The song is a finely honed description of the artist, his work, and his demons.

"Vincent," also commonly called "Starry Night," was on McLean's "American Pie" album, and it is one of his two best known works.  The other, of course, is the iconic "American Pie."

Here is Don McLean's poetic triumph - here is "Vincent."


Vincent
by Don McLean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue

Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night

You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame less heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

White Pride Radio

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

I imagine that many small communities, particularly here in the Midwest, have elements that they would just as soon stayed off of the public radar.  The presence of a bona fide hate group, for instance, probably does not help to draw in the types of individuals and families that most towns need in order to thrive economically, socially, and intellectually.


As an example, my own community has an active branch of a national organization called the League of the Confederacy, a group that expresses its pride in the Old South by displaying their Confederate flags and snorting aspersions on the President and his family with alarming frequency and ease.  Most of the members of the League, I am sure, would deny being motivated by racism.

(The League of the South has been determined by the Southern Poverty Law Center to be a "hate group."  I have a great deal of respect for the work and the judgment of the SPLC.) 

Walmart has quit selling Confederate flags, so now two local "flag" stores have opened up, both proudly displaying the Stars and Bars as they attempt to build a clientele of discerning customers.

Yesterday during my trek across northern Arkansas, I just about drove off of the road as I was entering to community of Harrison.  There, on the left-hand side of the road was a large billboard that I had never noticed before.   It featured a pretty young (white) girl holding a puppy, and the caption read, "It's NOT Racist to (heart) Your People."  Below that was  "www.WhitePrideRadio.com", and below that was "Harrison - Love Lives Here."

A pretty young (white) girl, a puppy, and a statement that "love" lives in the community.  Why, who wouldn't want to move into a swell place like that?

I looked the billboard up on the Internet and found that it has been there for over a year.  It was apparently funded by the Ku Klux Klan.  I didn't check out the Internet radio station, but the article regarding the billboard said that typing in the "White Pride" address gets a redirection to "www.kkkradio.com".

I guess if Walmart ever quits selling bed linens, there will be a sudden proliferation of "sheet shops" out here in my neck of the woods!

Reed Smith Is Ready to Coach!

by Pa Rock
Proud Uncle

Early this morning I left the Roost, grabbed a breakfast sandwich at a drive-thru, and slipped down into Arkansas for a drive over to my sister's place in Fayetteville.  The objective of the trip was to watch my nephew, Reed Smith, graduate with a teaching degree from the University of Arkansas - woo, pig, suey!

Reed is graduating with honors and will have a seat on the stage at the ceremony.

Reed has a degree in agriculture from Oklahoma State University, and he worked for several years as a meat distributor for the big hotels and casinos in Las Vegas.  He had been home over Christmas week in 2009 to attend my father's (his grandfather's) funeral and was returning to Vegas when he was involved in an horrendous car wreck in Texas - a wreck which killed Reed's father, Bob Smith.  Reed was life-flighted to Amarillo where he underwent major surgery and spent a couple of weeks in a coma.  It was an extremely traumatic time for the whole family - including his many friends from high school and college - who all rushed to Amarillo to be with Reed.

Reed's girlfriend, Jamie, was also a passenger in the wreck.   Jamie was (is) a school teacher, and they were eventually married.  Being a former star high school athlete - and married to a teacher - Reed decided that he wanted to leave the world of commerce and work in a field that he loved - school athletics.  He returned to college for a teaching credential and to fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a coach.

And know this, world - he will be a great one!

Congratulations, Reed, for having the courage and tenacity to pursue what you love!  The youth of America have just scored a big win!

(Follow-up Footnote on Footwear:  Reed wore a pair of boots to graduation that had belonged to his father.  Bob Smith would have been very proud!)

Come Mow with Me

by Pa Rock
Fitness Nut

I've written about the FitBit before - the thin strip of plastic that fits around my wrist - like a wristwatch - and keeps me updated with  a wealth of information related to my health.   It also tells the time.   The FitBit tracks my heart rate and lets me know how many steps I take each day.  I currently chart my weight and blood sugar levels daily, and now with the aid of the Fitbit, I also keep a record of the number of steps that I take per day.

And I am learning a lot from the record-keeping.  I now know, for instance, that I walk a great deal more in warm months than during the winter, but my summer foot-mileage drops precipitously on rainy days.  The Fitbit has a vibrating alarm which lets me know when I have reached 10,000 steps in a day, so reaching that milestone has become my daily goal.  With the warm weather and regular sunny skies, I manage to hit the goal almost every day.  A week ago I actually managed over 15,000 honest steps in a single day.

I say "honest" steps because I have learned that the FitBit gives false readings on the days that I use the riding lawnmower.  My lawn, while basically flat, does have a lot of twists, and turns, and bumps, and dips - and mowing on the rider can at times feel somewhat like bull-riding.  When that happens, the FitBit gets the notion that I am walking or stomping about - and the steps begin adding quickly, although my feet are basically just resting on the deck of the mower.  It is not unusual to record a couple of thousand phony steps during a two-hour mowing session.

Oral Roberts University is a Bible college in Tulsa, Oklahoma, that is not necessarily known for high academic achievement or standards.  (Marcus and Michele Bachmann are two or ORU's more notable graduates.)  Recently though, the religious institution has made a move that some might regard as somewhat progressive.  Oral Roberts University has managed to slap a FitBit on the wrist of each of its students.  And, if news reports out of Tulsa are to be believed, all of those students are expected - or at least encouraged - to take 10,000 steps a day.  Apparently the school has some way of collecting data from the FitBits and can monitor the walking habits of the entire student population.

So here's my proposition to all of the would-be future mega-church leaders and television beggars now attending ORU:   On those days when you just don't feel up to doing another ten thousand steps, get thee to a riding mower and pile on the miles while taking a spin around the yard. .  Scam the system while making America beautiful.  There ought to be plenty of raggedy yards around Tulsa to tackle, and, if you ever find yourselves over in Missouri, please know that you can mow my yard anytime!

It's all for the greater good!

George Zimmerman Sinks Even Lower

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Self-appointed vigilante George Zimmerman has already established himself as one of the most repellent characters of the twenty-first century.   When Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin four years ago, he proved once and for all that hatred and racism still flourish in America.   Zimmerman murdered the unarmed black teen in a confrontation that he (Zimmerman) instigated, and then whined successfully in a Florida courtroom that he had felt threatened by the kid and was standing his ground.

But just being a dangerous racist thug, like George Zimmerman, does not pay the bills.   George has been trying to figure out how to make a living without working ever since he shot his way onto the front page and into a shameful chapter of American history.

During George Zimmerman's trial for second degree murder his defense attorneys secured a presence for him on social media with the stated intent of raising money for his defense.  Zimmerman also managed to get his gullible and not overly bright "fans" to chip in over $155,000 to his PayPal account, money that his wife then tried to hide from the court.

Later in George Zimmerman's burgeoning career as a conman, he started creating and selling paintings which had a Confederate flag theme.

Now he has come up with one more plan to make some easy money.  The Department of Justice has recently returned George's 9mm pistol that he used to kill Trayvon Martin, and George has decided to sell it in an online auction.

George Zimmerman says that he will use the proceeds of his gun sale to fight against the State Attorney Angela Corey who prosecuted him in 2013 - and Hillary Clinton.  And while the angry Mr. Zimmerman probably means fighting in a political sense, both Corey and Clinton would be wise to exhibit caution.

Zimmerman does have a history - and he has not always behaved rationally.

The IRS and the Windbag

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Tax returns can be very revealing documents - showing not only how much a person or a corporate person earned in a specific year, but also what percentage of that income he, she, or it returned to the government in the form of taxes.    Tax returns show levels of charitable giving, and likewise give indications of just how devious one might get in order to minimize tax payments.

Donald Trump, like other presidential aspirants before him, is not anxious to share his tax returns with the public.  So far he has held steadfast to a claim that he can't reveal those enlightening documents because he is currently undergoing a tax audit by the IRS.  Ever helpful, the IRS has said that they are perfectly fine with Trump sharing the documents with the curious public.

But Donald is standing firm.  He won't release his tax returns until the government finishes with them.  He now says that should be around November - probably just days after the general election.

Many might assume that the Donald is hiding his tax returns because they are rife with evidence of tax evasion and dirty dealings, and Trump is fine letting the public wallow in those assumptions.  He knows that a significant number of Americans hate paying taxes and secretly admire anyone who cheats the government out of its due.

Others, however, are beginning to question's Trump's secretiveness as being based in something completely different.  There is speculation that he does not want to share his most private financial records because they will show that he is not worth nearly as much as he likes to let on.  Perhaps the "billionaire" isn't a billionaire at all - but only a sniveling millionaire!  That would certainly let some of the hot air out of the massive windbag.

Anything that speaks to a person's character, whether it be tax returns or transcripts of speeches given to large corporations, should be part of the public record and discourse when those individuals choose to run for public office.   Candidates should be eager to bare their souls to the public and thus allow voters to make the best decisions possible based on the most information.  To hide anything reeks of dishonesty.

Obama to Visit Hiroshima

by Pa Rock
Man of Peace

The White House announced today that President Obama would, on his upcoming trip to Japan and Vietnam, visit Hiroshima - the Japanese city that was basically annihilated by the first use of atomic weapons directly against people.  The bomb, carried and delivered by the crew of the bomber Enola Gay, was dropped over Hiroshima on August 6, 1945.  A couple of days later a second bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Nagasaki.  After that, President Truman went on the radio to inform the Japanese government and its people that the third bomb would be dropped down Emperor Hirohito's stovepipe.   At that point the Japanese sued for peace.

The White House explained with today's announcement that President Obama was not going to Hiroshima to apologize for the atomic attack, but rather to see and experience the effects of the event.  The trip will undoubtedly help to focus the world on the horrors of nuclear weapons.

President Obama beat me to Cuba by nearly a month, but I was in Hiroshima when he was only a child.  I visited that historic site way back in the spring of 1972 while I was serving with the Army on Okinawa.  I always intended to get back there during my second run on Okinawa (2010-2012), but sadly missed the opportunity.  Hiroshima is an amazing place.   Surrounding Ground Zero and the famed "Atomic Dome" is an area now called Peace Park, which is populated with monuments to peace from most of the countries of the world.  The city has dedicated itself to the pursuit of world peace - and it is very fitting that a U.S. President should finally travel there to experience the passion of that movement.

My own experiences in Hiroshima are detailed in the August 6, 2010, posting of this blog in a piece entitled "Hiroshima, Sixty-Five Years Later."  It was an unforgettable experience.

President Obama, thank you for putting Hiroshima back in the news.  There is still so much that we can and must learn from that horrific event.

The Cycle of Life on the Farm

by Pa Rock
Farmer in Spring

I lost the last of my three tom turkeys last night.  They had made it through the winter, a season that is tough on outdoor animals, and all seemed to be enjoying the warm breezes of spring when the first kicked off a few weeks ago.   He died peacefully during the night lying on the ground in front of the hen house.  The second died a few days ago, inside of the hen house, in what looked to be a death while napping.  And this morning I found turkey number three.  He was lying on his back - not sure how he managed that - just inside of the hen house when I opened the door to let all of the birds out this morning.

So I am officially out of the turkey business.  I have raised the big birds before with varying degrees of success, but this last group was problematic almost from the get-go.  I doubt that I will try raising them again.

Also, I am down to just three guineas - from the five that had made it through the winter.  Predators have gotten the other two.  The three survivors enjoy the run of my big yard and also manage to visit a couple of the neighbors almost daily.  Guineas take very little care, and I will probably replenish the flock at some point within the next few weeks.  I saw some baby guineas (keets) at a swap meet this past Saturday, but a couple of eager people in front of me appeared to be set on buying the lot of them.

I have fifteen new chicks out in the nursery that is attached to the hen house.  There are four Bantys and eleven Red Jungle Fowl.  They have been at the farm for eleven days and appear to be adjusting very well.  The nursery has an attached outdoor pen which I am going to let them into today.

The peahens have now laid a total of eleven eggs and are not sitting on any of them.  I took the most recent three into the house yesterday - one was still warm - and will research how to incubate them myself.

I recently purchased a little incubator with a seven-egg capacity.  It is now home to seven warm duck eggs - with ducklings due in about three weeks.

Rosie and Riley are fine.  I am working on getting the yard in shape and setting out a bit of a garden.  After that it will be time for another mow, and then my focus will switch to spring house cleaning.

The farm is a busy place!

Thoughts on Mom

by Pa Rock
Proud Son

First of all, happy Mother's Day to my daughter, Molly, and to my daughter-in-law, Erin.  Molly is a stay-at-home mom who spends practically every hour of every day in the service of her three children - Sebastian, Judah, and Willow.  She is a very busy young woman who is always on the go.   Erin works outside of the home, but still puts in countless hours being an active and affectionate mother to her four-year-old daughter, Olive.  Erin is expecting her and Tim's second child, a boy, next month.  Enjoy your day, Molly and Erin - relax and let your husbands have their turns at taking care of the kids!

Happy Mother's Day also to my sister, Gail Macy, and the special mothers in her life:  Tiffany Burke, Dr. Heidi Pfetcher, and Lisa Smith - a wonderful group of moms!


This coming December my own mother, Florine Macy, will have been gone thirty years.  She suffered from inoperable brain tumors and spent the last couple of years of her life slowly fading away, losing track of who she was and the connections she had forged in life.  It was a very sad ending for a woman who had once been so vibrant and so important to those around her.

I remember my mother well, and for that I am very grateful.  Her voice, though pleasant, was a bit sharp, much like that of her sisters.  Although I just barely knew their mother, a fellow told me years later that the sharp and distinct voice that the sisters shared came from Siss Sreaves, their mother.

My mom worked her whole life.  My earliest memories of her are in a waitress uniform from the time that she and her sister,  my Aunt Christine, worked in their cafe, La Bella View, in Goodman, Missouri, while their husbands, Garland Macy and Bob Dobbs, worked next door at their DX service station.  She also worked part-time as a seamstress at the J.C. Penney store in Neosho, Missouri, and later (with the assistance of my sister and me) ran a tourist court in Noel, Missouri.  She cleaned cabins, did miles of laundry each day with an old wringer washer, and still found time to keep house and take care of her kids.

My mother never slowed down.  Late in the evenings she would sit in front of the television listening to programs while crocheting, sewing quilt squares, or repairing our clothes.  She would usually keep at it until everyone else had gone to bed.  (I took a "gorilla pillow" to college that Mom sewed for me from a pattern.  I wish I still had it.)  The only break she took during the day was for lunch - and she spent that short bit of time watching her soap opera:  "As the World Turns."

One winter while Riverview Court was basically shut down for the off-season, my mother enrolled in cosmetology school.  She got her beautician's license, and after selling the tourist court, she went to work in Carol Kerry's beauty shop in Noel.  During that time she also helped out in my dad's appliance store.  Even after being diagnosed with terminal illness, she still put in time helping out with dad's business efforts - which by then was a real estate brokerage.

My mother also liked to cook - and she was good at it.  Her signature dinner staple was fried potatoes, golden and crispy, served up alongside of a main course of standard fare like fried chicken, pork chops, or meatloaf.  She also usually had a homemade coconut pie (my dad's favorite) on the counter as well as her special spice cake.  Oh how I would love to taste that wonderful spice cake again!

Everyone smoked back at that time, and while many eventually quit, my mother was never able to break the habit.  She always had a cigarette smoldering close by - and eventually those cigarettes killed her.  My mother died on December 8, 1986, at the very young age of sixty-five.  She didn't get to watch her grandchildren grow up, and she never experienced the joy of meeting any of her great-grandchildren - and that is a loss to our whole family.

Mothers are the bedrock of civilization.  They are elemental in our existence, our survival, and our futures.  Honor the moms in your life, and treasure the brief time that you have with them.

In honor of my mother and yours, Happy Mother's Day!

A Doggone Shame

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Maine's irascible Republican governor, Paul LePage, has been in office since 2011 and has always proven to be a favorite among the state's tea-bagger faction.  The governor, an intellectual lightweight, has the annoying habit of shooting from the lip, and his impromptu remarks often make their way into the nation's news cycles.

Take for instance the time back in 2011 when he chose not to attend events honoring Dr. Martin Luther King in Maine's two largest cities.  When told that NAACP was not pleased about the snub, his response was "Tell them to kiss my butt."  He also did not earn any love from the black community when he famously said last January that "out-of-state drug dealers come to Maine to peddle heroin and impregnate white girls."

Paul LePage routinely disparages minorities, fellow politicians, and the poor.  Once he publicly reflected, "If you want good education, go to private schools.  If you can't afford it, tough luck.  You can go to the public school."  He made that odious remark while discussing school choice at a local community college.

And Paul LePage's personal assaults and cheap shots on the President of the United States are the stuff of legend.  He often uses the line that Obama stands for "One big-ass mistake, America."  He's a funny guy, if you ask him - with the personal warmth and charisma of someone like former governor Jan Brewer of Arizona - or any other desert scorpion.

But LePage seems to be trying to soften his image.  This week he adopted a dog, a Jack Russell terrier mix, from a dog pound in Maine.  The two-year-old dog's name had been Jasper, but LePage promptly renamed him "Veto," to bring attention to the fact that he has vetoed more bills than any other governor in the state's history.

But Governor LePage could not even adopt a dog without stirring up a controversy.

Hannah Arsenault is a twenty-two-year-old resident of Maine who recently suffered a sexual assault.  She saw Jasper while on a visit to the Greater Androscoggin Humane Society in Lewiston, Maine, and knew immediately that he was the dog for her - one that could give her the emotional support and love that she needed to overcome her traumatic experience.  The local humane society had a policy of "first-come, first-serve" as soon as the animals are officially made available for adoption.  Hannah found out when Jasper would become available, and she made plans to get off work early so that she would be the first in line.

Sadly for Hannah, the evening before the dog officially became available for adoption, Governor LePage visited the shelter and wound up taking the poor Jasper home with him.  LePage had bucked the line.  When LePage walked in and expressed an interest in the dog, the officials at the shelter thought that an adoption by the state's governor would be good publicity for the organization.

It wasn't.

Hannah said that she cried when she saw a photo on the internet of Governor LePage walking off with her dog.

Every dog and cat deserves a warm and loving home, and I hope that Paul LePage turns out to be nicer to Veto (what an awful name!) than he has been to many of his fellow human beings.  But if the humane society goes to the trouble to develop adoption policies, then they should follow those policies.  Fair is fair - and privilege is seldom fair.  If the governor is half the man he thinks he is, he should seek out Ms. Arsenault and give her back her dog.

From the soapbox:  Spay and neuter, America - spay and neuter - and don't buy pets with pedigrees.  Adopt!  Adopt!  Adopt!

Boone at Seventeen

by Pa Rock
Proud Grandpa

Today marks the beginning of the annual grandchildren birthday season.


My oldest grandson, Boone Macy, the one who nicknamed me "Pa Rock" when he was little, is little no longer.  Boone, now busy completing his junior year in high school, turns seventeen today.

Boone called last night and we had a good visit.  He thanked me for the birthday money that I sent - not much - and said that it was going toward tires for the car that he recently bought.  I haven't seen his vehicle yet, but understand that it is some type of "town" car, a vehicle that should offer a certain degree of safety.

(My first car was a '57 Chevy - and I saw several just like it last week in Cuba.  Ah,the memories!) 

Boone said that he has taken his ACT and is waiting to learn the results.  He has also recently tested for an Advanced Placement English class.

And in other Boone news, he is taller than both his dad and me, and he has been paid cash money for playing his guitar and singing at a coffee house.  Remember coffee houses?  I thought they went out with '57 Chevys!

Happy birthday, Boone.   You always make me proud!

Trump's Personal Vietnam

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

While Man-of-God Ted Cruz was busy slinging manure on the eve on the Indiana primary, one of the globs that he hurled at Donald Trump was an accusation that Trump is a "serial philanderer" who had called his long battle with venereal disease his "personal Vietnam."  The implication was that Trump, in addition to being a general sleazeball, had also suffered from venereal disease.

Cruz claimed he was quoting from a 2004 interview that Trump had with radio personality Howard Stern.   Several pesky fact-checkers dug into files and concluded that Trump never said he had a venereal disease.  He was instead talking about his fear of contracting a venereal disease, and at some point said that he went through a period where he had his dates checked ahead of time by his personal physician.

How romantic.

After rambling about his fear of venereal disease and how "dangerous" the dating scene was, Stern responded, "That was your own personal Vietnam, wasn't it?"

The only time Donald Trump ever donned a uniform was during his days at a private boys' academy,  so he probably appreciated the reference to the military.  One man's courageous service in the battle against clap.

Can I have an "amen," Brother Clinton?

America Dodges the Cruz Bullet

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Yesterday a majority of Republican voters in Indiana cast their ballots for Donald Trump causing Senator Ted Cruz, the last remaining real obstacle to Trump’s GOP coronation, to suspend his campaign for President.  The Republican race is over, and while the Grand Old Party now finds itself saddled with a narcissistic, racist, sexist, homophobe as its potential candidate – things could have been far worse.  It could have been stuck with Ted Cruz.

Columnist Frank Bruni writing in today’s New York Times had this to say about the junior senator from Texas:  “Sour, smug, and nakedly ambitious, the Texas senator was never built to go the distance.”  Ouch!   Bruni’s entire column, a flaming indictment of the repugnant Joe McCarthy lookalike, is well worth seeking out and reading on the Internet.  I’m going to save a copy to remind myself four years from now just how crazy that Texas loony tick really is.

So Trump remains, and he, like both Hillary and Bernie, is too old to be President.   Ted Cruz liked to talk about America teetering on the edge of an abyss, and now it would seem that abyss is a senility chasm on the order of the one that the country fell into during the Reagan administration.

Can Bernie Sanders, the only one of the three remaining serious candidates who seems to possess any interest at all in the well-being and future of the American people, prevail against the Clinton machine?  Probably not.  Can Hillary manage to attract Sanders’ supporters to her cause and defeat the egomaniacal Trump?  Possibly - but if she takes them for granted, it will be at her own peril.

It’s too early to declare flatly that someone as intellectually shallow and self-absorbed as Donald Trump could never be elected President.  Sadly, I remember saying the same thing about Reagan.

There is an old saying that God protects drunks and the United States of America.  Well, She has apparently saved us from Ted Cruz – this time – but from here on out Her good choices look exceedingly slim.

We are bound for interesting times - with the key word being "bound."

New Mown Hay

by Pa Rock
Yard Master

When I left West Plains and began the long trek to Cuba, the six acres of yard that I mow was as short as a 1950's crew cut, but when I returned ten days later it more closely resembled an unkempt, shaggy dog.  I guess it rained in Missouri almost the entire time I was gone - while in Cuba, where it is the rainy season - we were blessed with an entire week of sunny skies.

I have put in almost five hours on the yard in the last two days, and have at least three to go.  Perhaps if I had one of those farm machines that mow and bail, I could turn a profit from my labors.  Getting a few goats is also a tempting idea, but I have had little goats before, and I understand their proclivity for always finding the wrong things to dine on - flower beds, expensive rose bushes, lawn furniture, etc.

I am also thinking about getting a few ducks.  Ducks won't help with the yard work, but I understand from someone who knows that they will play hell with the mice that keep appearing in the chicken coop.  (I prefer to handle as many farm issues as possible with "natural" solutions.)

But back to the grass issue - another solution would be to buy a bagger (grass bagger, not a tea-bagger) for the mower and then throw it all in the peacockery.  I have straw down, but that gets expensive.   One or two of the peahens have begun laying eggs.   The juvenile hens don't seem to be too sure of what is happening, and they haven't figured out that they should be laying their eggs in the nesting boxes that I went to so much trouble to prepare.  Instead, they are sitting on a perch, about seven feet off of the straw covered ground. and playing "bombs away" with their eggs.  So far two have landed intact, but one broke.  The girls seem to have no interest at all in trying to hatch the next generation.

I blame unisex bathrooms and gay wedding cakes.

Other than all of that, things here at Rock's Roost are running smoothly.  Tomorrow the mower and I will continue our long dance, and maybe after that I can't get on to other things - like cleaning my house!  I wounder if there is a "natural" solution for that?

Cuba Dispatch # 8: "Flying Home"

by Pa Rock
Weary Road Warrior

As I prepare this post, it is with the assistance of the rear-view mirror - because I am safely back at my little farm in the Ozarks.

We boarded the two large tour buses at our hotel in Havana at 7:15 a.m. Saturday morning.  For the next forty minutes or so I sat watching the last bits of Cuba slide by the bus window as we slowly made our way to the airport.  The place was packed and very busy, but we eventually made it through and were all on board when the plane was ready to take off.

The flight from Tampa to Havana the preceding Saturday had been fifty-one minutes from takeoff to touchdown.  The return trip took sixty-one minutes, suggesting the pilot who flew to Havana took a short cut.  :)

I left Cuba with more Cuban currency than I had intended, so I took it to the currency exchange booth at Tampa International thinking I could get it converted to dollars - but that was not to be.  The lady in the exchange booth had never seen Cuban pesos before and said they did not handle them.  She was excited about this new experience, however, and called one of her friends over to look at the bills.  My "extra currency" became souvenirs for the kids!

Two big preparations were underway as we left Cuba.  First, the following day - Sunday - was May Day, or "International Workers Day."  Our hotel had put notices in all of the rooms on Friday informing guests that the employees of the hotel would be involved in the big parade and would be leaving the hotel at 3:30 a.m. on Sunday to get to their positions in the parade route.  The hotel guests were invited to join them.  As we rode to the airport Saturday morning our buses passed the Plaza de la Revolucion which had been trimmed out and made ready for the big celebration.

The other big event was the anticipated arrival of the first cruise ship from the United States which was due to dock in Cuba on Monday.  Carnival Cruise Lines will be the first, but the others are sure to follow.  Fortunately Walmart has yet to announce plans to invade the island, and hopefully the government of Cuba will be able to keep the giant retailer away from Cuba's pristine shores.  There are many small shops owned by enterprising local entrepreneurs where tourists will be able to get all of their needs met.  They won't need the Walton's.

Cuba was an exceptional experience - much, much better than what I expected.  I would encourage anyone who has the opportunity to visit the island and enjoy all that it has to offer.  The people there are warm and caring - and very similar to your friends and neighbors here in the United States - and they are, in fact, our friends and neighbors.

My thanks to the good folks at The Nation magazine for providing this unique opportunity.   I hope to visit Cuba again someday.

Cuba Dispatch # 7: "The Last Supper"

by Pa Rock
Wayfaring Stranger

Friday, 29 April 2016:

This was the last full day of our trip to Cuba, and it turned out to be the busiest by far.

The day was scheduled to begin with a visit to ELAM, the Escuela Latinoamericana de Medicina, but before we got there, our guides were able to fit in one more stop of interest along the way.  We visited a beautiful small section of houses and businesses that a local artist had spent years decorating with colorful tiles.  While there we stopped the shop of the ceramicist who appeared to be at the center of the project.  His studio was also his home.  I purchased a tile that he had designed as one of my souvenirs of this trip to Cuba.

ELAM is one of Cuba's fifteen medical schools, and it is designated for the training of foreign students.  Many of the young people who go there are from Latin America and Africa, and there are currently twenty-two enrolled from the United States.  After listening to a presentation by one of the medical school's administrators, we were provided the opportunity to visit with one of the American students - a young man who had graduated from the University of California at Berkley.  He was in his first year of school at ELAM.    The young man was very interesting and answered all of our questions.  Summer break is approaching, and he said that he plans to return to California and work in a hospital during his time off from school.

The school is located in a beautiful old naval facility near the Hemingway Marina. The curriculum is taught in Spanish, however students do not have to know Spanish in order to enroll.  The first year of the six-year program is focused on acculturating students to Cuba and teaching them Spanish.  They refer to it as a "leveling" year, one in which all students are brought to a more-or-less common level - getting them ready for the more difficult and focused years that follow.

The education that medical students receive in Cuba is basically free, but they pay the nation back through service.  The education of some of the foreign students is subsidized by scholarships and assistance from their governments.  Students begin working almost immediately as assistants in local clinics, and they also do research on various medical issues within the communities.  During the embargo Cuba was cut off from access to American medicines, a situation which resulted in researchers in Cuba developing many  medicines on their own.

After our visit to ELAM we had lunch at the Paladar San Cristobal, one of the places where the Obama family dined while they were in Cuba.  The restaurant's owner brought out a large photograph of him greeting the Obama's - it was a very proud moment for him.

I skipped a planned lecture by Peter Kornbluh in the afternoon in order to have a few minutes to pack and prepare for tomorrow's departure.  Having already read Peter's book, Back Chanel to Cuba, and having visited with him throughout the week, I thought that was one I could miss - although I hated missing anything.

This evening we went to an astounding dance performance at the Lizt Alfonso Academy, which was described on our agenda as a "women-led dance company and school for local youth."  The students were almost entirely female, ranging in age from six or seven to adult.  The younger kids went to school on the premises after their daily dance instruction was finished.    The type of dancing that the students do is a "fusion" between ballet and flamenco, with graceful ballet moves highlighted with flamenco stomping.  The overall effect of forty or so girls and a few boys doing that type of dancing in large, choreographed numbers is absolutely amazing!

Dinner, another very noisy late-night affair, was on the roof garden of the Paladar Atelier, a place which Michelle Obama and her mother and daughters also visited.  It was a beautiful night with soft breezes - perfect for dining outside under the stars.  The two groups, Green and Yellow, got together for this final meal, something the guides called "the last supper," and that gave us a chance to visit with people whom we really hadn't gotten to know during the trip.

But I did get to know quite a few people very well.  They are friends and I will miss them when we all go our separate ways tomorrow.

It is now after midnight, I am packed - and ready to board the bus for the airport at seven tomorrow morning.

Buenos noches, mis amigos.

Cuba Dispatch # 6: The Cars of My Youth

by Pa Rock
Former Owner of a '57 Chevy


Thursday, 28 April 2016

The amazing thing about President Obama having his picture taken in front of an image of Che Guevara is that it did not happen much more often.   The image of El Che is everywhere – on buildings, posters, post cards, the back of tourist buses – and I even found one very nice drawing of Che that someone had done on the surface of the street by the Malecon.  There are not nearly as many images of Fidel and Raul Castro in sight.  I bought some old Cuban stamps from a street vendor – and Che was featured on many of those.  He is easily the most iconic image in Cuba, and indeed, one of the most iconic figures of the twentieth century.

Our day began with a talk and discussion led by Marta Nunez, a Cuban – trained sociologist who also has a PhD in economics.  Ms. Nunez spoke primarily of gender issues and the LGBT community in Cuba.  One of the points she made is that there is a fair amount of homophobia among Cubans.  The average family in Cuba has one to two children (1.62 children, to be precise), and machismo is encouraged because if a family manages to have a son they want him to be straight to carry on the family line.

Ms. Nunez pointed out that many of the professionals in Cuba are women, but in the machismo society they have to leave their jobs as doctors and lawyers and engineers in the afternoons and go home to become full-time housekeepers.

Mariela Castro, President Raul Castro’s adult daughter, has become a spokesperson for the gay and lesbian community, a cause that her mother, now deceased, fully supported.  The younger Ms. Castro is the Director of the Cuban National Center for Sex Education.  Several years ago she proposed a bill that would allow transgender people to have gender reassignment surgery.   That bill passed the national legislature, and now Cubans may have sex-change operations which are completely paid for by the government.    Our speaker, Ms. Nunez, is a friend of Mariela Castro's and has worked with her on policy.  She said that Ms. Castro, now in her fifties, is a married mother of three adult children.

Another medical procedure which is free in Cuba is abortion.  Abortions have been legal in Cuba since 1962 and have not become the political issue that they are in the United States – primarily because so little of the island’s population identifies with any of the Christian religions – including Catholicism.   Abortions, like sex-change operations, are free.

The government also provides incentives for parenthood.  New mothers can receive up to one year of maternity leave, but the last six months of that leave can be given to the fathers, allowing the mothers to return to work.  Miss Nunez said that most of the men elect to go to work and leave the child care to their wives.

This afternoon I had intended to slip off from the group and revisit Old Havana.  As luck would have it, and as I predicted in yesterday's posting, there is an American movie being filmed in Havana, and the street in front of the Malecon (Cuba's famous seawall) was blocked off -  a fairly necessary route to get to Old Havana - and the rerouted traffic is clogging up the side streets.  The movie is the latest installment of “Fast and Furious.”  I did walk down to the area where it is being filmed, but didn’t run into any stars – at least none that I recognized.  It does look like they are going to use a bunch of Cuba’s classic American cars in the movie.  I haven’t seen any of the “Fast and Furious” movies, but will definitely go see this one.

I checked IMDB - the Internet Movie Database - and discovered that the next movie in the "Fast and Furious" series is tentatively called "Fast 8" and will star Charlize Theron, Scott Eastwood, Vin Diesel, and Kurt Russell - among others.  Ethan Hawke (see yesterday's dispatch) was not listed in the cast so perhaps he is in Cuba just on vacation.  

Regarding the cars, I have heard some people describe Cuba as being "frozen in time," due to the U.S. blockade of the island nation which went into effect more that fifty years ago during the Kennedy administration.  The Cubans have kept - and kept up - thousands and thousands of classic American automobiles which were in use on the island at the time the blockade went into effect.  As parts for the cars were needed, the inventive Cubans found ways to keep their automobiles running..  The streets of Havana and beyond out into the countryside are packed with the cars of my youth.   Many are being used as privately owned taxis - especially the old convertibles.  I would estimate from my own observations that at least forty-percent of the cars on the streets of Havana are American models made in the 1940's and 1950's.  It's almost bumper-to-bumper nostalgia!

It's worth the price of a ticket to Cuba just to enjoy watching the old cars drive by!

Tonight we went the Cafe Madrigal to hear a pair of guitarists who played and sang old Cuban folk songs.  They called themselves “troubadors.”   Wonderful music – a very nice evening - and the cold "Bucanero" beer was so good that I treated myself to a second!

Hasta manana!

Cuba Dispatch # 5: "Moros y Cristianos"

by Pa Rock
Culture Vulture
 
Wednesday, 27 April 2016:

We are safely back in Havana and checked back into the Hotel Capri.    I have been elevated from Piso Siete to Piso Nueve – with a completely different view facing out in the opposite direction of my last wistful vista.    This evening is one of the rare times when we are free to dine wherever we want – without the noisy group.  I am at my favorite place, behind the Nacional Hotel in a garden setting peacefully sucking on a pina colada and picking at a sandwich.   It just doesn’t get any better than this.!

We learned yesterday that the Cuban government used to provide all newlyweds with a three-day stay at the Nacional.   The thought that with no FBI and no IRS, it would be the perfect location.  Also, the island being under the control of Batista, a corrupt dictator, a plus as well.  But then less than two dozen young revolutionaries sailed an old yacht from Mexico to Cuba and sgtormed ashore and into history.

Another thing we learned about the Cuban government is that anyone driving an official government car must pull over and give rides to people who are hitchhiking.  (I would like to see all of those state workers in Missouri who drive state cars be required to do the same thing!)

One of our tour guides swears that she saw Ethan Hawke at the Nacional yesterday when we were there for a lecture.   I suspect she is right.  The Americans are barging in, with the first U.S. cruise ship due next Monday.   Hollywood won’t be far behind.  There are so many wonderful settings in this country – fresh backgrounds for American audiences.  And, at this time, local labor would be extremely reasonable.

This morning we had salsa lessons in Vilanes, and I participated – a little.  That was followed by a stroll through a tobacco field which I bailed on.  I spent the remainder of my morning walking around the little town’s plaza and the market street – buying souvenirs.

The host family prepared my breakfast and lunch.  Breakfast was simple – I had already told them that scrambled eggs and toast would be fine.  Lunch was a little more elaborate.  It opened with something Cubans call Moros  y Cristianos (Moors and Christians) – hot black beans served over a bed of white rice.  That was followed by a simple salad and baked chicken drumstick and thigh.  There was also a side of homemade potato chips.

The pina colada is gone – and I shared the sandwich with the birds.  Now I must get out and explore some more.  Hasta manana!

Cuba Dispatch #4: "Welcome to Vinales"

by Pa Rock
King of the Road

Tuesday, 26 April 2016:

I started off rushing today, nearly missing the first activity, and feel like I have been rushing ever since.   

Our first activity of the day was a lecture by Marc Frank, a journalist with Reuters who has been working and living in Cuba for years.  Frank, the author of Cuban Revelations, spoke on the changes that he has seen in Cuba since Raul Castro took over in 2006.  One of the more significant differences he noted is on the country’s reaction to the U.S.  Frank said that Fidel was always quick to blame the United States for any and all of Cuba’s problems, but that Raul is more realistic and knows many of the problems are Cuban-made and will require Cuban solutions.

Another change that has taken place in Cuba during Raul’s years in power is that people are no longer expected to agree with the government.  Raul’s government wants to let people speak their minds – and to listen to what they are thinking.  Most websites are no longer blocked and the government is moving quickly to lift restrictions in many areas.

Some private ownership is beginning to find its way onto the island because the state no longer feels that it is capable of managing everything.   The non-state sector now is home to numerous small businesses and farms.  Health, education, sports, and social security, however, are still subsidized by the government.  Medical care, from minor injuries to major operations,  remains free for all in Cuba – and Cuba has produced so many medical doctors that the country exports them to other parts of the world.  All medical care in Cuba is free, whether if a life-saving procedure or even some bit of elective surgery.

Most Cubans pay no taxes, with the government getting its revenue from ownership of major aspects of the economy - but, the new small entrepreneurs do pay taxes on their incomes.

The speaker said that racial violence and racial tensions are almost non-existent in Cuba, but there is some obvious discrimination.  As an example, he said that most of the good jobs seem to be held by whites.

The connections between Cuba and the U.S. are growing quickly.  In 2014 there were sixty-six million telephone calls between the two nations.  Travel restrictions are being lifted and families are being reunited.  There is a lot of travel between the United States and Cuba.  Marc Frank believes that the U.S. embargo will be lifted in two to three years regardless of who is elected President – because American businesses will demand it.  He did put a caveat on that statement saying that it would not apply if Ted Cruz wins the election because he is a “fanatic.”

(One of the not-so-funny jokes among our group members was that we wanted to see the island before Walmart got there!)

Portia Siegelbaum mentioned yesterday that Cubans are now permitted by their government to sail on cruise ships and they are also free to go out on boats.  That was not the case when Fidel was in charge.

We checked out of our hotel rooms in Havana this morning and this afternoon we rode the tour bus for three hours out into tobacco country.  One of our stops was at a tobacco farm where we were given an tour and watched cigars being made.   The farm had a beautiful peacock with full plumage who screamed  a welcome to us.  There were also a few guineas and some hens who were exploring the yard with their baby chicks. 

I must have been a Cuban farmer in another life because we seem to like the same things,:  peacocks, guineas, and chickens!

Tonight we are in Vinales, a beautiful small town where most of the little homes have been converted into bed and breakfast accommodations – or in our case:  bed and breakfast and lunch.  My host family is Miriam, Roberto, and their grown son, Carlos.   Their English is as limited as my Spanish, so communication has been a challenge.   Roberto said that he is a “jefe in electronicos,” but I am not sure if he is a chief in electronic sales or production.

Dinner tonight was at a restaurant which is part of a large organic farm.  The family that runs the eight-and-a-half acre affair have  terraced the hills with raised garden beds made of rock and cement.  I took lots of pictures thinking that it would all look very nice transported to Rock’s Roost in Missouri.

One minor complaint:  I am growing very tired of big, noisy meals served late at night.  I’m fairly certain that I am in the younger half of this group, and those meals wear me out.  I like to crawl into bed at a decent hour – and not with a full stomach.

Tomorrow we have salsa lessons in the morning (thinking of you, Nefredia!) and then head back to Havana in the afternoon.  

Cuba is a beautiful place – and Cubans are a beautiful people.  Roberto and Miriam and Carlos feel like family, and I have only known them a few hours!

Cuba Dispatch # 3: A Walk through Old Havana

by Pa Rock
El Turista Viejo

 Monday,  25 April 2016:

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Our morning began back at the Hotel Nacional with a talk by the CBS bureau chief here in Havana.   Portia Spieglebaum is originally from Brooklyn, New York, but she married a Cuban diplomat who is now deceased and has lived in Havana since the 1960’s.     Portia has two grown sons whom she raised in Cuba. .  She described Cuba from a socio-economic perspective, noting the major changes that have occurred since the revolution. 

Portia depicted young Cubans as not being as tied to the country as their parents were.  She also gave an interesting perspective on Fidel Castro, noting that in the eyes of many Cubans Castro made Cuba and helped to define and promote it before the world.  Without him it would be just another poor Caribbean island, but now, after the successful revolution, people around the world have knowledge of Cuba and understand who its leaders are.

She also talked about her work and the experience of covering visits to Cuba by each of the last three popes as well as the Obama family's recent trip to the island.

(Peter Kornbluth told me later that Portia Spieglebaum grew up in Brooklyn, but that for a time her parents owned a farm in New Jersey where they raised chickens.  He apparently had told her that there was a chicken farmer traveling with The Nation group.)

Lunch was at a crazy place in Old Havana called La Bodeguita del Medio.  It is reputedly where Ernest Hemingway learned to love the mojito – a very popular Cuban rum drink.  Mojitos were part of our planned luncheon - and mine was delicioso!  After lunch we walked many of the cobblestone streets of Old Havana.  One of the more interesting places which we visited was a design and print shop that Michelle Obama and her daughters (and her mother) had visited on their recent tour of the oldest part of Havana.  Michelle had left a handwritten note complimenting the business, and one of the designers had turned the note and her photograph into a poster.  We watched people making their art at the shop – it was a most interesting stop on our tour of the original city.

I quickly got lost from the group (perhaps due to the mojito!) and had to stumble around on my own for over an hour until I re-encountered my travel companions.  One of the highlights of my individual tour happened when three street musicians began following me playing a Cuban ballad.  I wasn’t sure they were really tailing me, so I crossed the street – and so did they!  I finally gave them a U.S. dollar, and they departed happy – in search of some other damned yanqui turista to shake down!

This evening we attended another lecture at the Hotel Nacional, this one presented by a Cuban urban planner who discussed the history of architecture in the city of Havana.    This evening was one of the few in which we did not have a planned meal, so I went into the park area behind the hotel and had a ham and cheese sandwich.  Afterward I went in search of the peacocks.  I found one hen begging for food among the many international tourists, and then the male screamed his location to me.  He was older than mine, with a beautiful full plumage.  The poor hen would be a fool not to fan her tail feathers at him!

Then, to my surprise, I saw four guineas darting around the park.  It could have been a television show:  Rock’s Roost Goes to Havana!  I half expected to see Rosie and Riley come romping through the palm trees.

Tomorrow we will be leaving Havana and traveling to guest lodgings in some private homes in a place called Vinales – three hours outside of Havana.  It will be interesting to explore some of the countryside and see more rustic parts of Cuba.

Cuba Dispatch # 2: A Busy Day in Havana

by Pa Rock
An American Abroad

Sunday, 24 April 2016:

It is a beautiful day in Havana, cloudless blue skies and a pleasant breeze.

After a nice breakfast buffet and the Hotel Capri, our group boarded a bus for the Cementario de Cristobal Colon – 138 acres of family tombs and grave sites ranging from simple markers to million dollar structures (by today’s prices).    Over two million people are interred in that cemetery in one way or another – some in elaborate tombs and others just in simple boxes. 

We saw the tomb of Jose Marti’s parents, a few former Presidents of Cuba, and many dignitaries in the fields of politics, art, and entertainment.    Following the revolution in the late 1950's, most private property was seized by the state, but one exception was the old family tombs  whose ownership was retained by the families buried there. 

There was a funeral occurring in the cemetery chapel while we were there.  We were told that about four funerals a day occur at the cemetery – and that there is almost no cost at all for a funeral – just ten pesos a year for upkeep of the grave.  The government of Cuba pays the expenses of the burials.

I did participate in a tradition regarding a woman named Amelia who died many years ago in childbirth.  Her husband would visit the grave of Amelia and their baby each day, knock on the tomb three times with a brass ring, and then exit the site walking backward.  Now tourists and people needing special considerations and dispensations visit the site and perform the same ritual.  After knocking three times with the brass ring, they step up to the monument, touch the sculpture of Amelia and the baby, and make a wish and then exit backward.  My wish was for long and healthy lives for my grandchildren.  Amelia’s grave is the only one in the entire cemetery that is constantly covered with fresh flowers.

Our second stop was at an art museum where a knowledgeable guide gave us a most interesting talk on Cuban art as we toured two floors containing over a thousand paintings.  Some of the more contemporary pop art featured images of people who helped to structure the twentieth century, folks like Ho Chi Minh, V.I. Lenin, and George Harrison (of the Beatles).  The most common visage in the museum was that of Cuba’s iconic revolutionary, Che Guevara – in fact, Guevara’s image is so prevalent in modern Cuba that  is almost impossible to go anywhere without seeing a grinning El Che staring back at you.

A while ago I walked from my hotel to the famous Malecon – or sea wall.  There, on the street between the memorial to the U.S.S. Maine and the Malecon, someone had painted a small portrait of Che.  He seems to embody the true spirit of the revolution – even more so than Fidel and Raul Castro.

Our lunch was at a nice Italian restaurant in a cultural center near the art museum.  I wound up sitting next to Peter Kornbluh, a political author (Back Channel to Cuba with William LeGrande) and writer for The Nation magazine, our trip sponsor.  Peter said that he has made eighty-some trips to Cuba since the early 1990’s – usually flying in by way of Nassau.  He answered lots of questions about Cuba during lunch.  At the point when the conversation was lagging, I leaned over and asked him where Fidel lived.  That seemed to have caught him off-guard.  He repeated the question, and then answered, “That’s a state secret.”   Kornbluh has interviewed Fidel Castro, so I suspect that he knows exactly where El Jefe lives, but that was not something he was going to share with just any old tourist.

After a lunch of salad, pizza, and pasta, we retired to a small bar in the back of the cultural center where we were given a presentation on the history of Cuban music – and featured some wonderful instrumental and vocal jazz.  The twenty-two-year-old keyboardist in the group by the name of Miguel had just returned from playing with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band in New Orleans.  All three instrumentalists, the keyboardist, drummer, and bass player, were amazing.

In fact, most of what I have encountered so far in Cuba is fairly amazing.  The people are very open and welcoming, and they seem comfortable conducting their daily lives among the growing influx of tourists.  One thing we learned over lunch is that there is now officially a beer shortage in Cuba thanks to all of the thirsty Americanos.

The first United States cruise ship will arrive next Monday. 

The times are changing fast in Cuba!