The Plum In the Golden Vase

JWise Moments

The Plum In The Golden Vase

Back in April, I was posting about a book titled The Plum In The Golden Vase and how we’d just started volume 4 of the 850,000-word mega-book. At the rate we’d been reading it, I figured we had until 2025 before we’d finish it; well, I was wrong. Tonight, we closed volume 5 and put to rest its myriad of characters that had lived with us for ten years. It was never our intention to stretch a title out for such a lengthy period of time, but now that it has happened, I think our fondness and familiarity with the story will have us grieving its end.

I believe that the reason we picked up steam was that volume 4 ushered in the demise of our central character while volume 5 took down those corrupt minions that lived off the excesses that were exemplified in the previous chapters of the 100 chapters this book covered.

So, the main takeaway from reading such a long work over many years is that I believe everyone should pick something of this extraordinary length and read it slowly enough that it lives with them for years. Sure, we get attached to characters in much shorter works, but to live with those featured on so many pages year after year, they grow over time in our memories and, in some way, become family.

While we’ll be jumping into The Water Margin, a.k.a. Outlaws of the Marsh, soon, we’ll take at least a short break from classical Chinese literature to indulge in French literature via Marcel Proust’s In Search Of Lost Time, and once we gather some serious traction with its 1.2 million words, we’ll be folding The First Crusade by Peter Frankopan into the mix.

Where You Been John?

JWise Moments

Sunrise in Phoenix, Arizona

There are nearly three weeks between my last post and taking the time to sit down for some small talk with myself: the gravity of change that comes with traveling needed a longer moment to settle. That part of me thriving in constant stimulation must allow expectation to fade as I return to a routine and a culture from which I feel increasingly alienated. But this is my life at this time in Phoenix, Arizona, one of bearing witness to the mendacity of a population trying to buy happiness.

Well, the fact of the matter is, I really never stopped writing as I have three documents on my desktop representing some 2,400 words of observations that linger in the realm of uncertainty, meaning that maybe they find their way to the blog, and maybe they don’t. Not that this was all I wrote, but I was also busy dragging some ancient memories out in the writing about Caroline’s adventure at Yarn School in Harveyville, Kansas, back in September 2007. That was triggered by my ongoing attempt to account for every travel day Caroline and I’ve taken since the advent of consumer digital photography.

If you look to the right column of this blog (or near the bottom if you are viewing this on a smartphone), you will see a block with the heading “Other Pages.” At the top of that section is a link to a page titled “Travels In The Digital Age” which is my attempt to eat all of your bandwidth; just kidding. Seriously though, as of today, there are 540 records (images and links) that track our adventures away from home, starting at 9.9.99. I found our oldest digital image, and from there, I’ve tried posting a photo from each day out on the road. So far, I’ve caught up to October 1, 2007. During that time, it appears we were traveling on average 67 days per year, which seems like a lot of vacation, but more precisely, we vacationed 5½ days per month, which doesn’t sound like that much. Ultimately, I think I’ll be adding about another 1,000 images before I catch up to where we are today, but at that time, I’ll probably never recommend someone clicking the link because it will download hundreds of megabytes in imagery. And that moment won’t be very soon as I’m nearly two solid years into trying to bring this effort together.

What’s taking so long to assemble this massive post? As I move from year to year, ensuring I’ve grabbed at least one image from every day we were traveling, I stumble into trips that have never been documented, so I review the photos and try to write something to those. In other cases, I posted only one photo of a trip as bandwidth limitations in those days wouldn’t support the posting of 30 of my favorite images from the 200 – 500 I could shoot in a day. So those posts get updated too, and, luckily, Caroline hunted through a bunch of our old notebooks, discovering travel diaries that came in super handy in fleshing out some of our forgotten stories.

While we were in Germany, I hit a new milestone: 1,500,000 words published here at JohnWise.com. Back in July 2020, I wrote that I’d shared a little more than 1.1 million words, so having written nearly 400,000 between then and now, I’m pretty happy. What does this number mean? Really, nothing at all, though it is a good metric assuring me that I’ve been diligent in exercising my nascent skills. Sadly, my next bragging milestone requires a half-million more words to be written, so after a bit more than another year out, I’ll be posting an entry with the simple title: Two Million.

But does any of this answer “Where I’ve been?” No, it goes into some small details of what I’ve been doing, and the snarky answer of where I’ve been could simply be stated as I’ve been in the milieu. This has become a question that is stymying me as I scan the last couple of weeks trying to discover if there’s been an overarching theme tracing through my mind, and, other than generalized malaise, I can’t put a finger on anything particular. Yet, I have this nagging feeling that just beyond my conscious view there is something preoccupying me and that if I just posed the question of where I’ve been to myself, I’d ponder and then answer this. Nope, not coming up with anything, so I must have been nowhere.

Another Year – 58!

JWise Moments, Photo of the Day, Travels

Caroline Wise and John Wise driving to Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

Woke just before 5:00 a.m. without the assistance of an alarm and got to preparing a hot breakfast prior to a short walk. After a stop for a latte to go, we are heading south in the direction of Tucson. Our destination is Saguaro National Park. Along the way, we return to one of our favorite pastimes, reading out loud. Caroline is closing in on finishing The Greedy Queen: Eating with Victoria by Annie Gray, which is taking an inordinate amount of time due to us not being in the car all that often.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

The particular reason for this day out on the road is that it’s my birthday. Not only are we traveling, but Caroline baked me a cake; well, bread to be more specific although a dessert bread for sure. What kind is it, you ask? Almond, dried apricot, and orange, a yummy favorite of ours from the Moosewood Cookbook.

We were supposed to be heading into New Mexico back on Friday, but after weeks of dithering about where exactly we’d end up, I lost the enthusiasm to pick a place. So, at the last minute, as just this past Friday, we decided to drive to Saguaro National Park.

Caroline Wise at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

It’s been years since we stopped at the closest national park to the place we call home, though we’ve been meaning to do this for years so Caroline could collect a Junior Ranger badge from here. Today is the day. And it was also the day we forgot our park pass so instead of paying the entry fee, we just went ahead and bought another yearly pass, knowing that the money goes to one of our favorite causes, the preservation of America’s beautiful wildlands.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

After checking in at the visitors center and confirming that someone would be able to accept her workbook we printed at home, we took off for a loop drive down a dirt road so my wife could gather the depth of knowledge about this park that might qualify her as Senior Junior Ranger Woman.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

We intended to take two short walks from the road, but at the first small pullout, seven other cars were parked with absolutely nowhere else to park nearby, so we continued our slow eight mph crawl up the road. We didn’t drive that slow due to the poor conditions of the road, nor did we drive that slow to piss off the people coming up behind us on this narrow path; we drove this slow because under 12mph in our Kia Niro, we are only using electricity and with the windows open the quiet is more befitting the environment.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

I took five shots to get this one reasonable image, but what’s missing is the grand vista stretching for miles with a million cacti between us and the mountains in the distance. This could have been remedied by switching to my 10-22mm wide-angle lens, but I should know better than switching lenses on a dusty road. By the way, how do you like how I coordinated the color of my shirt with the color of my beard?

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

We don’t know which plant this skeleton is from, though it’s obviously not from one of the nearby saguaros but we thought it beautiful enough that it was worthy of snapping an image of. Maybe this will be the photo that propels me virally into social media fame, though that would mean I have to throw it up on Instagram, and well, I’m just about too lazy to even try that.

Caroline Wise at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

Truth in advertising admission, I’m standing behind Caroline, holding her purse while she goes ahead so I can snag a more “natural” image of her ascending the stairs on this short trail to view some petroglyphs. You might think that it’s no big deal that I’m holding a purse, but do some math regarding today’s birthday, and you’ll see I was born in 1963, and I obviously do not have the DNA to be comfortable holding a purse. As soon as I get the photo I want, I will yell at her to rush back to fetch her purse so I can maintain my illusion of what it means to be a man.

Petroglyphs at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

There were more approachable petroglyphs at the top of Signal Hill, but this abundance from below was more appealing to me, so here they are.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

I can’t help but wonder if Phoenix and Tucson once looked like this. Meaning a wide-open desert covered with cacti of a number of types but especially saguaro. These sentinels of the Southwest have been known to stand for up to 300 years with one particular now dead specimen having reached a height of over 40 feet with 52 arms. Evolution works by bringing ecosystems into harmony, and so I tend to believe that there’s likely a very good reason why these cacti have these characteristics, and while they are protected today, that doesn’t diminish that we’ve cleaned millions of them off lands where we built houses.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

Sure, it’s great that we at least have pockets of them on lands forbidden to be developed, but what have we lost in our efforts to replace nature with concrete, cinderblocks, and asphalt?

Caroline Wise becoming a Junior Ranger at Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

Poems, puzzles, drawings, and questions across ten pages are now complete and Caroline is being sworn in yet again and awarded a Junior Ranger badge, quite the honor.

Longhorn Grill in Amado, Arizona

For 20 years, we’ve meant to stop in here at the Longhorn Grill so we can claim our bragging rights to having eaten under the world’s largest fossilized steer skull ever found, and now, here on my 58th birthday, which is also the same day Caroline has earned her dozenth Junior Ranger badge, we’ve finally done it. Was it worth it? That depends. Was the food amazing? No way, but we didn’t expect it to be, considering it’s midway between Tucson and Mexico, meaning it’s in a relatively impoverished area of the state, and there isn’t anyone passing through these parts looking for gourmet food. Can I recommend it? Absolutely, because these cherished icons sitting roadside across America won’t be there forever, and often, you meet some amazing fellow travelers who contribute to making our days memorable.

Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona

Earlier, as we drove south out of the national park, I noticed on the GPS a northern section of this western branch of Saguaro that had a road passing through called Picture Rocks Road that we’d never been on. Seeing it had been so many years between visits, there’s the chance we may never pass through this area again, so I figured we should take the detour and check it out, just in case.

We arrived back in Phoenix before 5:30 p.m., which was a lot earlier than I thought we’d be home, but I don’t feel like we diminished our experience of being out for a Sunday drive on Easter during my birthday. As a matter of fact, I’d say this was a gloriously beautiful day that once again presses on my mind to come up with the superlatives that might convey a hint of how perfect this was for Caroline and me, but I guess the old saying, “You had to be there,” rings true and will have to suffice.

Big Plans At The End Of 57

JWise Moments, Travels

Monterey Bay Aquarium Map

Today is the last day of my 57th year; tomorrow, I’ll be 58. But this wasn’t just any old day closing out another year of life. I was working to clean up the grammar of older blog posts when I came across one about the Monterey Bay Aquarium we last visited in 2017. That triggered me to wonder when the aquarium might reopen; well, today was my lucky day as they are making that splash on May 1st to members only and then on the 15th to the general public. If you think that just because we are 700 miles (1,137km) from Monterey, we aren’t members, you are wrong.

Here, just before my birthday, I worked out a nearly 10-day trip and already booked our lodging reservations in the sincere belief that when the aquarium opens reservations on April 26th at 9:00 a.m. PST, I’ll be right there to book our entry for a 10:00 a.m. entry for one of the days we’ll be up there.

Note left at Treebones Resort in Big Sur, California

If that wasn’t exciting enough, I also have us booked at the Lover’s Point Inn in Pacific Grove, just down the street from the aquarium, along with two more unbelievable nights in the Human Nest at Treebones Resort in Big Sur. From there, we’ll head down to Cambria to stay at a place across the street from the ocean. While I still have some details to figure out, the frenzy of having worked all that out requires me to take a break and allow my brain to stop sizzling. This kind of excitement is taxing on old men’s brains, NOT! The photo above is the note I wrote and the drawings Caroline made back at the end of 2010 when, for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, we stayed in the nest but were nearly blown out of our perch; click here to see that post!

Octopus at Monterey Bay Aquarium in Monterey, California

While it feels like we’ve been to the aquarium dozens, if not hundreds of times, the truth is more modest. This is our 11th visit in 29 years or hardly enough when I see it this way. Our first time ever in Monterey back in January 1992 included the aquarium and then in 1997, after we’d moved to America, we took my mother-in-law Jutta with us to visit this magic place. In 2001 and 2002, we visited once each year, but in 2004 and 2005, we visited twice each of those years. This was followed by a six-year pause, and we didn’t return until 2011. Another six-year break ensued that culminated with our last visit in 2017. Now, in 2021, seeing this on our horizon, it almost feels like there should have been five or six other visits thrown in there over the years, but obviously, there were other places on the map we wanted to visit, too.

Maybe we’ll make it an even dozen times we’ll have visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium come 2022 when a new “Into The Deep” exhibit is scheduled to open.

Fresh Citrus

JWise Moments

Pink Grapefruits locally grown here in our neighborhood of Phoenix, Arizona

Yesterday, before my road trip down south, Caroline and I were on our morning walk when, lo and behold, four big brown paper bags of pink grapefruits were sitting curbside. We were not interested in leaving even one for anyone else; for all we knew, someone would abscond with as much of our treasure as they could carry and would be coming back for more. Taking possession of these heavy bags laden with 54 pounds or almost 25 kilos of these sweet, homegrown orbs of wowness, we turned around and darted back home. We hadn’t gotten far before the handles of one of the paper bags Caroline was carrying tore off. No problem in my mind; I’ll carry that bag up in my arm, and she can use the handles on two of the three good bags. But as I went to pick up my bag with a functioning paper handle, it was no longer in that functioning state. All we could do was leave Caroline on the street guarding the goods so I could speed walk home and fetch the car. Before long, our grapefruits were home and on their way to being juiced.

I’d like to point out that our fortunes have been incredible this year because back in January, another neighbor put out some rather large boxes of hundreds of grapefruits. We walked over as she was finishing up, allowing us to verify they were indeed free for the taking and not intended for someone special who would be by shortly to haul them off. We packed up as many bags as we could and dragged them home. Not satisfied, we turned around and went and took more. By the evening, we were on our third load and felt that the more than 120 pounds or so we’d collected were probably enough. It takes quite a while to juice so many grapefruits, but the opportunity to pour some local tree-ripened pink grapefruit juice into a glass and then top that off with sparkling water is a treat not wasted on us. While it was a sad day a few weeks ago when the last bottle of frozen juice was finally gone, we were thankful to have had this amazing indulgence. Then, like a miracle, the gods of citrus smiled down upon us once again, gifting the Wises with more of the sweet nectar of Mrs. Fruit’s bosom.

Exploring Deviancy

JWise Moments

Charles Manson Letters

As I wrote yesterday, I’d successfully written John Wayne Gacy; how about trying Charles Manson? I didn’t really have much of anything to say to him as, at 24 years old, I was a noob, and I was about to find out just how stupid I really was. I first wrote the California Department of Corrections asking for Manson’s address; the response offended me with its language of effectively calling me a deviant. The guy who wrote me closed his letter with a kind of best wishes to find what I was truly seeking as though I was on a pilgrimage. I was, to say the least, upset.

My next act had me funneling my indignation back into the typewriter as I hammered off a letter to the office of then-California Governor George Deukmejian. I let him know how incensed I was at this attempt at trying to guilt me into not exercising my 1st Amendment rights. I sent it off, never expecting to hear another word. When I did hear back, I wished I never had. The Governor’s office apparently reached out to the Department of Corrections and let them know about the butt-hurt idiot in Germany using a military address to whine about not being able to write a madman without a lecture. I was assured I was free to write to Charlie at San Quentin Prison, and the letter that was sent to me was being taken out of circulation. My first thought upon reading this was, “Well, this is going into my State Department file along with all the other crazy shit that’s in there from my time in the military.”

Manson never wrote back, and as I shared in the previous blog post, I lost interest in exploring this avenue of deviancy as it really was just a morbid curiosity to communicate with someone seriously on the fringe of society. When people around you are boring conformists and what you seek is potent stimulation, the paths you might take could look peculiar to those around you, so it goes.