Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Home Again

View from Clingman's Dome, Great Smoky Mountain National Park, November 2010

I'll have more to say about this latest trip down to South Carolina, but for now, I just wanted to announce the fact that we are home again and doing well. We tried some diners and restaurants and had some real good food here and there. We did get to stop in and visit with some good friends in Ohio on our way home and that was a lot of fun. And of course the visit to Clarks Hill was the highlight and reason we took this trip in the first place. A full report will follow in the days ahead.

I have to say, when we left and even the day we returned, we had fabulous weather for traveling. Sunny and temperatures warmer than normal most of the time. In the 70's down South. The day we got home was pleasant, but last Saturday there was a storm here in Wisconsin. We got home and saw our back yard full of this white stuff. First of the season.

First snow of the season in the back yard at Spadoville

One place we did pass through and stop for a while was the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. After all the traveling I've done over the years, this place has escaped me. I took some photos and shot a very short video.  Anyone can see why they are called the Smoky Mountains.



It was a beautiful place and the weather cooperated with perfect temperatures and no wind to speak of. We drove through from North to South and found a pretty good BBQ place called Mutz BBQ to stave off starving to death. Here's my plate:

Mutz BBQ, Greer, South Carolina. Ribs, pulled pork, hash and rice with cole slaw bread and butter.

After we drove through the Great Smoky Mountains, we got on a section of the Blue Ridge Parkway and came across this sign designating the highest poiunt along the way.

Along a section of the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina
Come back soon if you care to. It's good to be home and back amongst friends.

Peace

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Veterans Day 2010

This is a repost of something I wrote some time ago, 2007 to be exact. In my mind, it deserves repeating today as we recognize Veterans Day, or Armistice Day as it was originally designated. This message comes from my heart and tells a great deal about what happens to many who are called to duty.

To some, the idea that we need to honor or recognize those that served when they are against the war and the soldiers all enlisted of their own accord, might be prevalent. I don't agree. Men and women of our armed forces each had their own reason to enlist. Some were to get money for higher education as it is a benefit for service to their country. Others were in a situation, on the reservation or in the ghetto and living in extreme poverty, with seemingly no way out. Still others needed extra income and joined the National Guard as a part-time job. Then there are those that believe in war and choose to fight. They are all along side of each other, right along with those that enlisted so others in their own communities did not have to go to war.

Whatever the reasons for serving in the military, these people are serving their country and willing to give their life for freedom, whether or not we believe that is the reason our country is involved in war.

I'll be out of town and away from a computer until next Wednesday, November 17th. Please bear with me and allow me this time and space.

Yours truly, sometime in April or May of 1969 during the American war in Vietnam




The Warrior

Veterans are Warriors, men and women who are trained to kill, for society. Men and women who have taken the life of another human being. Even those Veterans that did not see action in the form of combat signed up or were drafted and followed orders. They would have given their life if asked. They would kill if they thought, at any brief moment in the throes of war, that they had to.

All soldiers, no matter what their military occupation, are taught how to go to combat before learning any other skill or specialty. In basic training, these killing skills are taught to every soldier. Killing is the soldier warrior's job. The warrior is somehow stripped of the belief that life is too sacred to erase, then they are taught the details of exactly how to kill people. With a weapon, with their hands.

They are forced to practice it over and over and over and over until it is automatic, regardless of how scared they may be. Even if their hearts are pounding or if they are scared senseless, these warriors can still load, fire, and erase the life of the human being identified as the enemy. They kill, if not for themselves, for the soldier next to them who is a trained killer like them. A Brother or Sister, and for the society that has required their services as a killer.

Everyone who is trained to kill has lost something of themselves and must find a way to control the imbalance that results. The military calls that control "self-discipline." Without it we would have millions of Timothy McVeigh's eliminating their perceived enemies with the lethal skills that they were trained for. These skills given to them with the approval of the rest of society. The military does not want nor allow this same “self discipline” to weigh in during the wartime activity.

We demand the warrior be disciplined and control themselves but when they return we treat them terribly. For those who have taken a life in a war and dealt with death, this discipline is a life-long struggle that is never truly resolved. They see the dead and relive the killings in their dreams. The soldier who kills another soldier comes home and one day realizes that there is a family somewhere in the world, in its own home, lacking a cherished family member. There are children who no longer have a father, mother, brother or sister. Women without their husbands and husbands without wives. No chance to fulfil the dream of growing old together.

That soldier who took a life may look at their own children when they get home, perhaps even years later, hug that child, and think about another child whose daddy or mommy they killed. How easy it would be for his or her child to be the parent less one! That soldier, trying to become a human being again, will not know what to say to anyone on this earth about this feeling. They will wonder if anybody understands what they are feeling or if anyone can. They may be able to share this feeling only with another Veteran, yet feel ashamed at reminding that Veteran of what he or she is also struggling to deal with. Worried that if he or she talks about it, they might be judged as bragging or lying.

The real warrior is abandoned into silence. They fall upon the discipline that was introduced in them but they fall alone. Many Veterans forever fight this never-resolved battle. Veteran Warriors are taught how to kill but not how to heal.

Listen to the Vietnam War Veterans. Listen to how they were received when they returned to this country. Listen to the Gulf War Vets and the veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan that must fend for themselves as the very government that asks them to lay down their bodies vote down funding for proper and substantial treatment of their physical and emotional wounds.

In the case of the returning Vietnam Veterans, it has been said that some were spat upon. Others had to withstand an onslaught of name calling that included things like baby killer and murderer. Society does not know this agent of death that is a Warrior, nor does it possess the skills or the knowledge to reintegrate these people into society. Society asked them to kill on its behalf, but does little to return the warrior to a rightful place as a caring, compassionate member of a family and community.

Can the community do anything to help with this return to so-called normal society? The Warrior Veteran needs to be brought back into the Circle of Life. How can they find spiritual peace and understanding from the community? Only if the circle of their community is a healing circle.

Does the community ever rent a room, invite the Veterans, feed and honor them and listen to their stories of the atrocities of war or the horrors of being the deliverer of death to another by accident or for survival? When do they hear about arms blown off a man who walked down a road not knowing mines were there? Who will listen to the warrior's scramble for words that describe an incoming napalm strike on a village? Who hears the break in their voices?

These things happened. The blood and destruction has been seen by the Veteran. The community must acknowledge the sacrifice their Veteran was willing to give. Society and the community can not know and understand or postulate a reason for what has happened, for that same society and community allowed the war either by electing people into office or by sitting by and watching war upon war unfold without lifting a finger to stop it.

Who will sit and listen to the stories of these Veterans? Will the people of the community come forward and listen or will the Veteran be doomed to the darkness of a house where no one visits? Will the people lean down to say hello to the Veteran whose legs are missing because they were blown off in a battle, or will they cross the street in avoidance?

Many Veterans that seem like they are of sound body suffer with the intrusive thoughts of having to experience death first hand and in many cases, by their own hand. They are also in darkness. A Veteran struggling with his thoughts as he tries to understand PTSD is forever and constantly bombarded by shame, guilt, depression, anger, confusion and loneliness.

This Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is grossly misunderstood by most people. Some even say things like, “Get a life” or “Get over it.” when they hear of a Veteran that gets disability for the loss of control of his own life from the struggles with PTSD.

A warrior is a hunter with death and blood on their hands and real horror to relive in their dreams. They are the ignored and too often the wounded walking suicide-to-be. They are the men and women with visions that they cannot, but want to, leave behind. They constantly try to be sorry for their actions but fail because the destruction of their own heart will not allow it. The blackness is there, forever.

The Warrior accepts the inevitable truth that they will live and die lonely as they struggle to be understood.

Think of these things the next time you see a Veteran. And remember, those who the Warrior fought because they were told they were the enemy are Warriors too. They and their families will suffer the same as “our side”. They also have PTSD. The Mothers and Fathers of those also cry at the loss of a loved one. Brothers and Sisters, Grandmothers and Grandfathers will miss them. We are all on the same side as far as issues with our Warriors.

The Native American communities have been stepping forward for many many years. They welcome back their Warriors. They have ceremonies and honoring Pow Wow’s for the Veterans. They are not glad there is war. But they realize this. The Veteran, drafted or enlisted, whether a regular Army soldier or a National Guard member who was deployed into war, was following orders because they took an oath. They were all willing to sacrifice their own life if need be. They accepted the pain and suffering that happens to them as a Warrior from witnessing the death and destruction firsthand. 

This is what is honored in the Veteran. Honor the Warrior, not the war.

After Vietnam, society had much confusion about the war. Let us not make the same errors in the way we treat our Veterans that are returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. If you don't agree with the wars our country is involved in, then do something about it instead of disregarding those that are willing to give their life for you. Let us make amends to ALL Veterans from ALL eras, combat and non-combat.

Honor the dead. Heal the wounded. Work for peace and end all war.






Peace


Sunday, November 7, 2010

Getting Ready To Travel



It’s November. The changes in the weather really happen in earnest now. We could have snow on the ground any day. In fact, today is the Minnesota deer season opener. The hunters over there won’t be happy with the mid 60’s temperatures. They’d prefer some snow for tracking. Suffice it to say I’m happy for the stretching of the Fall season, the sunshine and warmer than normal temps, as I plan on riding the Triumph this afternoon.
A motorcycle ride at this time of year is usually not possible because of snow and cold. But with the topsy turvy weather, I’ll be out there. I do have to be careful about the timing of such an outing. We changed the clocks back one hour. Now it gets dark earlier and that can wreak havoc on the quality of road vision as the sun is low in the sky and drops from sight quickly. It’s not that I can’t ride in the dark, it’s that I’d prefer not to, especially when the deer are being hunted and are restless and on the move.
Anyway, gonna get out there and ride because I can. Other than that, the Days of the Dead celebration is over. The altar is down and packed away, and the furniture is back where it was at the start. There are always some projects to do, but slowly and surely they are getting done. What’s  the hurry?
Veterans Day is next week, November 11th. I usually go to a Pow Wow at the Lac Courtes Oreille Indian Reservation up near Hayward, WI. They have been honoring all Veterans at this celebration for many years. In the recent past, 2007 to be exact, I started going down to South Carolina for a Veterans Program put on by an amazing woman, the Matriarch of the Clarks Hill Community, Mrs. Georgia C. Scott. Mrs. Scott will be 94 years old this year and has opened a museum.

My friend Larry with me at the Lac Courtes Oreille Pow Wow years ago after receiving our gifts

You might remember the circumstances that brought me there, the miracle, I should say. If not, or if you might be a newer reader of these chronicles, here are two posts about my trips to Clarks Hill, South Carolina, one from 2007 HERE, and one from 2008 HERE I couldn’t make it last year, but I got a call from an old friend and I decided I could go this year.
Mrs. Spadoman will accompany me and we’ll leave on Veterans Day, Thursday, bright and early. It’s at least 1250 miles down there from where I live, so it will take two full days on the road. Clarks Hill is just North of Augusta Georgia, across the Savannah River. Wish I could ride the bike down as I remember weather to be more like late Summer/early Fall, with trees just getting into the peak of color.
I’ll be busy all week, finishing projects at my daughter’s place and tidying up loose ends around here at Spadoville, in preparation of the trip. Mrs. Spadoman has some vacation time, so the plan is to wander a bit on the way home. One possibility is to make it to Barberton, Ohio, the supposed Chicken Capitol of the World, and try this so-called famous fried chicken and hot sauce we saw featured on a Food Network show called Food Feud
So, not sure how much I’ll be blogging until I return. Of course I’ll take the camera and try to get some photos of the events we’ll be attending, some Shadowy Shots, Ruby Red Shots right along with the unique and beautiful if they present themselves. I'm also excited about doing my own report about the famous fried chicken. In the meantime, feel free to read the above referenced articles about my previous trips to South Carolina and what this journey will mean to me.
In the past, I have taken gifts down there from a Native American Spiritual Elder from Northern Wisconsin. An Eagle feather and an American flag flown at a ceremony in honor of my friend. This year, I will carry a Star Quilt blanket to present as a gift from my family and community up here in the Northland, to their family and community down there in the deep South, offering warmth, security and Peace from one culture to another.
Take care of each other, be kind, practice Peace in all your affairs. I’ll try to do the same.

Friday, November 5, 2010

New Mexico Roadside Attraction

Haiku My Heart Friday
November 5, 2010


Haiku My Heart Friday is a creation of my friend Rebecca. She has been traveling and not posted haiku this week, but her last post was full of wonderful poetry and photographs. Take a look at her blog, reduerda mi corazon

Another friend posted haiku and a beautiful photograph today. The name of her blog is The Angels wear Fins. Her photo is in a place called Bosque del Apache, a wildlife refuge along the Rio Grande River in New Mexico. I have been to this place often on my wanderings through to Truth Or Consequences. Most recently, this past September.

While I was there, I took the  slow two-lane road, New Mexico Highway 1, which follows the old Journey of Death trail near the Rio Grande. As I rode my motorcycle in the early morning sunlight, I spotted these clumps of beautiful white flowers. They look to me like Morning Glories. I'm no botanist, so I can't tell you the details of what these are called. Many folks post photos from their gardens of flowers they have grown. I didn't grow these, as they seem to be wild at the side of the road. I stopped and took a few photographs.



Glorious morning

Stopping by to savor these

Beautiful flowers

Here are a couple of other shots I took that day in September. I had just left Socorro and the Manazeres Street Coffee House and was riding South. I couldn't help but feel the pull from Nature to stop and smell the proverbial flowers, which turned out to be not proverbial at all.


I wondered how fragile the petals of the flower, yet so hardy as to withstand the force of man and machine whizzing by at high speeds. "Who are these here for?", I thought. I realized they were there for me, at least at this particular time on this particular day.


Thank you Noelle for inspiring me this morning. You can't imagine the feeling I get when I see someone post about a familiar haunt.

All who pass here, enjoy your day and have Peace.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Days of the Dead 2010 Aftermath

The ofrenda altar at our home


This years Days of the Dead celebration was a fine one. A great looking altar and friends gathering to remember our loved ones. Lots of good food and coffee, and a campfire on a rather balmy night for November. In fact, the weather around here has been delightful lately for any kind of activity outside. Folks are still one their bicycles and motorcycles and that’s rare for the Northland.

My Mom and Dad with Grandma Spado. A little blasphemy, perhaps, with the whimsical skull next to my Mom's rosary

This year, Los Dios de Los Muertos fell on a Monday. November First. As I’ve mentioned before, we don’t waver and have a party on Saturday for an event that’s celebrated on Monday. That meant many guests didn’t come because of long distances to travel on an evening when the next day would be a work day. I totally understand and don’t ever gauge the success of our fiesta on attendance.

Dear friends, remembered

I went with an Italian food theme this year. Traditional red gravy with meatballs and sausage was served with rigatoni pasta. I also had a choice of a meatless marinara or a smoked salmon alfredo sauce over angel hair spaghetti. Of course a good Italian bread and a salad with my Mom’s recipe salad dressing. An antipasto platter with olives, peppers and a variety of cheeses rounded out what I prepared and served. 

A beautiful evening for a campfire
Visitors at our home brought platters of food and deserts, and everything was very good. I had ordered a pan of frosted brownies form the local coffee cafe in town. They were chewy, as I like them, and frosted with a chocolate butter cream laced with almond extract. 
A cigar box shrine from Mango Studio

Strewn about this post are some photos of this years fiesta. Some new art pieces made their way as our collection is getting larger and larger each year. One of our newer friends who had never been to a Days of the Dead celebration before asked if everyone whose picture appeared on our altar was dead. Indeed that is the case. They remarked, “Some are so young.”
This one is magnetic, and the dancing figures can be moved around. Quite unique and beautiful from  Susanna

All in all, another year has passed. We remembered our loved ones and honored the loved ones of others, some strangers to us, on these days, November first and second. We’ll pack things up in a few days and bring them out again next year. Our memories won’t fade though, we still carry the hearts of those that walked before us with us, knowing that they all will be waiting for us on the other side.
This piece folds up and looks like an industrial laptop. Purchased in Santa Fe last Spring
We thank you for your interest. So many e-mailed and sent their greetings and it warmed our hearts. Some of you have sent pictures and your loved ones were remembered along with ours. Still others have taken ouir photos to put on ofrendas in other parts of the world. That is much appreciated. All in all, a good time and another holiday passes us by.
Peace

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

A Second Intermission





For all of you wonderful people abroad in Australia, England, France and Asia, please excuse me as I have something to say that pertains only to the American people who are eligible to vote in our National Elections.

Today is November 2nd. It is an election day for Mid-Term elections.

Don't forget to vote. Today!

I will be voting in my home state of Wisconsin.

Thank you.

Regularly scheduled posting will resume after this second brief intermission.

Peace to all

Monday, November 1, 2010

Intermission

Halloween is over. And today will start our celebration for Los Dios de Los Muertos, (The Days of the Dead). So, until we complete our fun times, take pictures and gather stories to tell, I thought I'd better have an intermission feature.

So, here's the Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach, California. The photos were taken as we cruised the area in our friends 39' Sea Ray, also pictured. As I searched for these pictures, I had the bright idea of going back and visiting our dear friends again this year and have another outing on the boat. Looks like a lot of fun.

In the meantime, enjoy the photos, and I'll see you back here in a day or so with a fabulous spread about the spirits that visit us tonight.









There you have it. An intermission from the usual. Thanks to all that visit here. Have a wonderful day.

Peace