Travels With Oso con Migo
Odyssey In America
OAE On The Road Again — Solstice2Equinox
Twelfth Night Plus Three—Sailing Near
The Wind : Quixotry
Ted Everett writes from Concord New Hampster—the not so's you'd notice
anymore Live Free or Die state—that he enjoyed the postmark from Ajo on
my Annual Letter. I made the trip to Ajo AridZona just to post those
letters from my namesake city; I am happy that you noticed, Ted, and
you get the prise for being first, and so far only, to notice.
On the first day,
God created the dog and said: 'Sit all day by the door of your house
and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give
you a life span of twenty years.' The dog said: 'That's a long time to
be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other
ten?' So God agreed.
On the second day,
God created the monkey and said: 'Entertain people, do
tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life
span.' The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a
pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog
did?' And God agreed.
the third day, God created the cow and said: 'You must go into
the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have
calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will
give you a life span of sixty years.' The cow said: 'That's kind
of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty
and I'll give back the other forty ?' And God agreed again.
On the fourth day,
God created man and said: 'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life.
For this, I'll give you twenty years.' But man said: 'Only twenty
years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave
back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that
makes eighty, okay?' 'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'
So that is why
for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play, and enjoy ourselves.
For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For
the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren.
And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at
Life has now been explained to you. There is no need to thank me for
this valuable information. I'm doing it as a
What I am reading recently says, or at least seems to say, that only
the present exists. Only the now. This moment. What I am trying to
learn is this: Long ago, when I was a wee lad, I lived for some
undefined future—when I get older I will do this or that or be some
one... (What do you want to be when you grow up?...). Now it seems I
live for, or in, the past; I long for the good old days, I wish I could
go back there/then; I struggle to live as if I were then, and not now.
My question is: when was the tipping point? When did I stop looking
forward and commence looking back? Do you suppose it is somewhen
between the "next forty years we slave" and the "next ten years we do
SS benefit goes up and Medicare deductions and deductibles increase,
the price of comestibles has risen despite fuel having decreased. So
what difference does it make? And why?
"They" don't pay for everything. Firstly the compensation depends upon
who you are and what your situation is. And where you "live" or at
least claim to reside. Different places have different rules. And after
all is said and done and one has signed all the applications there are
still deductibles to be met that start over again each year and changes
to the rules whenever "they" feel like it but we can do nothing about
except when "they" deign to let us.
Despite all the grouping and categorising that "they" like to do each
of us is in fact judged as an individual when one gets right down to
the nitty-gritty such that the guy who lives next door will get some
benefit that you who reside right next to him will be denied. There is
little or no help in the system and "they" are not responsible for any
advice they give anyhow.
Around the corner at the local primary school a teacher noticed that a
little boy at the back of the class was squirming around, scratching
his crotch, and not paying attention. She went back to find out what
was going on. The boy was quite embarrassed and whispered that he had
just recently been circumcised and he was quite itchy. The teacher told
him to go down to the principal's office where he was to telephone his
mother and ask her what he should do about it. He did and returned to
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the back of the room. She went back
to investigate only to find him sitting at his desk with his whizzle
hanging out. 'I thought I told you to call your mom!' she said.
'I did,' he said, 'And she told me that if I could stick it out till
noon, she'd come and pick me up from school.
2009febter11 Frost on the Pumpkin
Yesterday the dawn temperature was 31f here. Frost on the windscreen of
Little Truck when I started off to the foodbank. Had to rummage about
under the seat and find my long disused ICE SCRAPER! This morning the
dawn temp is 41f. Quite a bit nicer.
Still slightly more than a month to go before Equinox and it becomes
apparent that in fact the days are getting longer now. There is still
light after supper. We have had several days over the past fortnight
where small but measurable amounts of precipitation have accumulated in
the rain gauge. The ground is soft and damp, a carpet of new green
everywhere covers the dusty dun usualness of the land, and Spring
flowers are about to spring forth.
2009febter22, My Mother's Birthday
And my sister’s too. And used to be George Washington’s birthday until
the Monday Holiday movement usurped it. A couple of guests at La Casa
Blanca employed my service as a guide yesterday and we went for a walk:
First to the gun range parking height of land just to the north of
Indian Eye and the watering hole. One SUV and two armed men were
setting up with all manner of weapons and cans and bottles. Turned
around and went back to the road at the previous last fork that goes
west towards the grinding slick rock cave and ends at the fence there.
We had a good walk there and picked up or buried several handfuls of
trash. One large item was on top of the matate wind cave: a tattered
American flag on a pole had fallen over from where some patriot had
left it standing in a cairn. The flag was too much to carry; I left it
folded and hidden under a large rock.
From the wind cave we walked west to the grinding-slick cave, carrying
some trash and burying other. The grinding slick is still there, where
I left it last time, hidden under the table.
Out from there and on the road, we drove north to the Hummingbird
Windmill corral and walked over to the caves near there. All is well at
that site. The corral looks like there has been some recent repair,
lots of new wood in the loading ramp and some of the fences and there
was a small herd of cows in residence, mostly on the inside. But the
area was mostly clean.
Over all a good walkabout: one bag of trash, probly an hour of picking
time within several hours of walking. I will try to return to the wind
cave and recover the flag one day soon. Perhaps I will go see what mess
the shooters left at the Indian Eye carpark.
March Winds Change Course: Quixotry
Last night I suffered through the documentary Earthlings and have to
say it was enough to turn me into a vegetarian:
"Oscar-nominated actor Joaquin Phoenix narrates this powerful
award-winning examination of mankind's dependence on animals. The film
delves into the food, entertainment and medical industries' use of
animals and links each to the world economy. Unflinching footage, some
shot by hidden cameras, explores slaughterhouses, puppy mills, factory
farms and medical labs and reveals the roles they play in perpetuating
society's disrespect for animals.” —NetFlix
But then if one extends that philosophy where is the logical
conclusion? If I choose not to eat meat then may I at least finish off
all my leftovers? If I choose not to purchase meat is it ok to eat all
that is already here in tins of tuna and chicken? What about continuing
to wear my fine leather boots? What about eating vegetables grown by a
farmer, carried by a trucker, purchased from a shopkeeper, who all eat
meat and wear leather in the course of producing and selling me those
veggies? Even peanutbutter is questionable now.
As long as there
are slaughterhouses, there will be battlefields. —Leo Tolstoy
Square Root Day
Whilst on a search for the cause of a nasty dead-thing
odour emanating from under-behind my couch—no doubt one of Ms La Gata's
playthings gone astray—I came across a pea green Post-it with
someone-not-me's handwriting thereon: “Super simple dip for happy
hours—just cream cheese & this stuff.” Unfortunately, whatever the
note was attached to it is no longer. I've got the cream cheese in the
fridge but have no idea what the mystery ingrediment might have been,
and Happy Hour is upon us.
I found the smelly thing, dead as expected, ucky and yucky, and icky
too. Fortunately on the linoleum, not on the rug, and easy enough to
scrape up. Ms La Gata had nothing to say when confronted with the
evidence but went off no doubt to find a replacement.
March is a mathematical month. Square Root Day
this year was 3-3-09 and
the next such day in the set will be in 2016. Closer to hand and much
more fun is Pi Day coming up next
week. After that is the Vernal
Equinox and the year is one-quarter over already. Don't rush it I tells
my Self; what's your hurry?
> Personally, I worry about only those things I can do something
> Being aware of the aforementioned issues
> causes me, to the extent that I am able and can afford to, to be
That pretty much is the approach others have advised and that I have
been more or less following for some time now. I guess my flash of
dismay now, and my reaction to write, is just that I was overwhelmed
with sadness and anger.
Yeah... That approach is for sure the key to a meaningful response.
Instead of a vegan I should be a freegan anyhow considering how much of
my diet comes in from the Food Bank.
Be Well, Do Good, and Please Write and Send Money!
I do not know what I may
appear to the world; but
myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and
diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a
shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all
—Sir Isaac Newton
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Back to ajo
Copyright © 2009, A.J.Oxton, The
Cat Drag'd Inn , Tonopah AridZona 85354-0313.