Thursday, August 21, 2014

Meditation on "As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free...."

Sometimes I am tapped on the mental shoulder to call attention to a thought from....God?

This morning these words (and the tune) ran through my mind.  I ignored it.  Again it played.  Again I ignored.  Again....   These words are from the Battle Hymn of the Republic.  They are in the last verse, not the first.  I don't remember last verses.  It was a tap on my mental shoulder.  So I put my pencil down and thought.

This is a song from the civil war between the states, a war that was ostensibly about northern states wanting to free slaves and southern states that wanted to continue slavery. It is a blatant mishmash of religion and politics wrapped in patriotic self-righteousness.  It bears remembering here that history is written by victors.  This song survives and thrives because its re-write by Julia Ward Howe is an anthem of the northern states.

The Battle Hymn of the Republic is a war song, and it is magnificent.  I've never listened to it and failed to be moved deeply.  I remember singing it with Lincoln Nebraska's All-School Choral Festival as the finale.  I've sung it in churches, yes with all verses.  As a war song, a song to inspire recruitment, a song to draw patriotic support of war, it excels. 

My problem is who wants war? Why do we feel we must impose our values and standards on other cultures?  Every war is about one faction believing it is right and the other is wrong.  It is often more for economic or religious reasons than anything else.  It's the religious based reasons that bother  me the most.  The civil war in America was more about economics than social justice, but it was clothed in religious fervor and righteousness as evidenced by this hymn.  

Today we have wars sprouting up no differently than our civil war.  America feels the need to impose its values on other cultures.  America stirs the pot and then wonders why it boils over.  We are not the only ones.  Russia wants its satellite nations back, so into The Ukraine they go.  Will others be next?  Yes.  Will we interfere?  Yes.

Apparently we cannot help ourselves.

My friend Louella Marshall once said, there will always be war.  Idealist that I am, I did not want to believe her.  But she is wise.  She has listened to her taps on the mental shoulder more purposefully than I.  She's right.  We cannot help ourselves.     

  

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Rainelle At Last!

Off to Rainelle, West Virginia!

The Central Route of Run for the Wall was due to arrive in Rainelle just before lunchtime. My goal was to get to Rainelle before David (aka Papa Smurf) and Kay (aka Nine Mile) got there.  I enjoyed the complementary breakfast at the hotel and, despite the good weather, I chose the easier interstate route.  There  was only one shadow on the horizon of good planning: I had the precursor sensations of an on-coming migraine headache.  Unwilling to alter my plans, I bulled ahead without pausing to medicate.  

By the time I reached Rainelle I had a gloriously blinding headache.  I was determined to stick it out.  I exited the car forgetting the all important copy of Veterans Reign in Their Own Parade.  My intent was to use it to collect autographs of riders and Rainelle citizens. Headaches can cause faulty thinking and dopey behavior and mine was clipping my mental wings.

I sought out the staging crew who had arrived early to help prepare for the Run riders' parade into town.  I found a guy named Vapors and his pal, Crash.  These nicknames are hard earned.  Vapors ran out of gas to earn his name.  Crash?  Yeah, probably crashed to earn it!  I didn't ask.  Vapors and Crash helped me find an ideal place for me to park my carcass for the parade.  They were thoughtful and considerate, taking into account my physical limitations.  They described how they platoons would go well into town and turn back to come by the shiny new elementary school.  

I was in a good spot to watch for Dave and Kay.  They were platoon leader and tail gunner of Platoon 8, so I got used to spotting the orange blaze marking platoon leaders' bikes.  Did I see Platoon 8 in orange?  No.  Did I see David to recognize him?  No.  Did I see the huge stuffed Papa Smurf on the back of Dave's bike?  Oh yes!  Impossible to miss!  So I watched the parade and as leading platoons returned to the school, I determined that #8 would not quite make it back to where I was sitting.  

I stood and walked along until I spotted them parking their bikes.  I was trying to sneak up to surprise them, but eagle-eye Kay saw me in her peripheral vision and squawked loudly, "AUNT PAT!!"  Every head in a 50 foot radius turned to see Kay and Aunt Pat, but David....
I got to surprise him!

As much as I wanted to spend the afternoon with them, I needed to wind down and shake the migraine.  I had the joyful fun of surprising them and I was delighted at their reaction. They were genuinely tickled that I'd come to see them and to see Rainelle.  And I'd wanted to see this love fest between bikers and school kids.  My dream had been realized.

I drove back to Lewisburg, where the Run riders spend their last night on the road.  I asked if the hotel had a room available, believing it wasn't possible.  Not only did they have a room, they gave me the one next to Dave and Kay's.  The perfect end to a delightful day.  I drank lots of water, took a sumatriptan and slept for several hours.  

By nightfall the Run bikers were partying hearty.  It was a cinch that I'd feel much better in the morning than they would.  And that's the truth!  

Friday, August 8, 2014

Trek To Charleston, Virginia

Jim dropped me off at the airport as the sun was rising.  I normally consider this to be the middle of the night.  I checked my little suitcase with more than the normal trepidation, since I'd be transferring planes in Atlanta to get Richmond.  I took advantage of wheel chair service gratefully.  

Richmond?  Yes, not the smartest choice for my ultimate destination.  My goal was to get most of the way to Rainelle, West Virginia on Wednesday.  Charleston would have been a better choice.  Looking at a map would have been helpful.  And I think I did.  Oh well, lighten up, as Tom would remind me.  

Both flights and the transfer were uneventful and I checked out a cute little car that reminded me of a computer mouse from Budget RAC.  I asked if there was anything about the car that I should know, thinking its modern equipage might be well beyond the technology of Jim's car.  No, no.  No surprises.  Hrrmph!  I mistakenly drove in third gear all the way to Richmond, before I discovered how the shift level slid sideways to full drive.  As for equipage, it featured a radio too complicated for me to master and crank-'em-up windows.  But it drove well and consumed much less gas than I'm used to.  

I arrived at my hotel as the sun was setting, excellent timing!  I reviewed my driving options for getting to Rainelle and wrote down two routes, one more direct and one more scenic.  I decided if weather was good, I'd try the scenic roads.  Otherwise I'd stay on the interstate highway as far as possible.  Just as the reserved car had been ready for me, so was my room at the inn.  A Quality Inn, I think it was.

A day of travel and a night of jittery anticipation.  I didn't sleep the best, but I felt fairly rested as I prepared to surprise David and Kay in Rainelle.   

To be continued...just like life itself!  


Tuesday, August 5, 2014

RFTW 2014 & Rocking Around the Cradle of America

Run for the Wall 2014 from California to Washington DC




....takes place in May.  Last year I reported my trip in September.  This year I'm jumping right on it in August.  Last year featured photographs; this year not so much.  Maybe later in the story.  Last year Jim was with me; this year he stayed home with Sweetie and Happy, the canine kids.  Last year we drove to Holbrook; this year I flew to Richmond Virginia.  Last year it was Arizona only; this year Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware (Jessop's Tavern--Yes!), and back to Virginia.  Last year two days; this year 5 days.

So I wanted to surprise David (my brother, aka Papa Smurf) and Kay (my niece, aka Nine Mile) somewhere along the Central Route of the Run.  I also wanted to see the phenomenon of Rainelle WV--school children, volunteer fire department, shopkeepers, the PTA for Rainelle Elementary--turning out to welcome Central Route riders as they do every year.  A symbiotic relationship between RFTW riders and Rainelle kids has formed and strengthened each year.  There is even a book about it, Veterans Reign In  Their Own Parade.  You can find it here or at the ubiquitous amazon.com.

I planned ahead making airline and 1st night hotel reservations in February.  Sometime after that Papa Smurf and Nine Mile put Phoenix on their itinerary for their trip from Denver to Fontana and Rancho Cucamonga California.  It was my pleasure to take them to dinner at Texaz Grill and to have them join us for pizza and cards the following evening.  And the whole time, I had to watch my mouth to keep my secret a secret!

The Universe reminds me that everyday practice of a skill builds to the goal.....
So more tomorrow!  Wait until we get to the cradle rocking.