Grandfather

Herbert and Hazel Kurchoff Grave Marker in Phoenix, Arizona

I stopped at the National Memorial Cemetery of Arizona to visit the grave of my grandfather for the first time since he passed away. My maternal grandfather died on January 17, 2006. I’d seen him in hospice shortly before, which of course was a bittersweet moment in that I was able to say hi, but it was to be the last goodbye.

I have fond memories of the man that goes back to my earliest childhood. I still remember being on the back of his yacht at the Buffalo Yacht Club on the Niagara River in Buffalo, New York, on July 20, 1969, when Neil Armstrong stepped out of the Apollo capsule and onto the moon. Everyone was drawn in around a small black & white TV and told me to pay close attention because this was a very important moment that I should never forget. It got stuck there just as the shooting of Martin Luther King Jr did a year before on my birthday.

My grandfather owned and operated a painting business and as I bounced around between family members while my irresponsible raging young parents did everything they could to avoid raising my sister and me, he would take me out to his job sites and teach me to paint or help get things for him and his partner Walter Painter. I’m sure that wasn’t Walter’s last name, but that’s how I knew him.

Regarding Hazel, well, she and I didn’t get along. I never felt she had any love for me which looking back was understandable, as my mom got pregnant with me at age 14 had embarrassed the Kurchoffs. Their striving to be an upright standing part of the Buffalo social elites was made difficult by their daughter in her sophomore year of high school carrying the child of a blue-collar schlub. After I was born Hazel also learned that this man she already despised was also a violent person who frequently beat their daughter. My father taught me that her real name was Witch Hazel. The damage was permanent and even in her later years, her acerbic tongue and sneer towards me never allowed the wall to fall.

After Hazel’s death, in Herbie’s later years I was able to return the favor of hanging out and he and I would frequently get lunch, I’d take him for a haircut, or we’d go for a drive out somewhere in Arizona. A year before he died, his sister, my great aunt Eleanor, Herbie, and I took a two-week road trip over to Florida. Our mission was to visit some family I’d never met.

You’ll never know your favorite relatives as much as you would like to. The older ones, who we knew when we were too young and naive to understand the importance of trying to get to know them better, will likely be the first to pass out of our lives. Sadly, it mostly happens during our 20’s to ’40s when we are deeply engrossed in our own lives. Then in our 50’s, we start to truly understand the importance of deeper relationships that resonate warmly in our memories, but then those loved ones are gone.

The Archaic Among Us

Lament

How and why have we arrived at this crossroads in our shared history as a species? Our current difficulties, I believe arise from our reluctance to change as rapidly as our technology is pushing us. There is a large part of our population that is rebelling against their own better interests, as they are being left behind. Sadly, they represent a kind of Neanderthal past that has to go extinct, just as the real Neanderthals did about 40,000 years ago.

I postulate that our early homo sapiens ancestors saw the Neanderthal as a threat to their own successful evolutionary steps forward. The Neanderthal’s inability to innovate and adopt new skills might have been seen as an impediment to homo sapiens’ rapid move towards planetary dominance. The slow-moving subspecies of archaic humans, loathe to move out of their comfort zone of simple yet harsh existence, was a boat anchor. With the appearance of homo sapiens, a species had arrived that was keenly adept at tool and language skills about to redefine the natural order.

Are we again at an inflection point in our ascent where we must leave behind those unable to navigate the transition in our evolution? With a class of people among us talking of artificial intelligence, genetic and computational bio-medicine, autonomous vehicles, immersive experiences delivered by mixed reality, Mars colonization, and blockchain as a backbone for everything from cryptocurrency to contract and identity verification, we are exploring a fringe of human adaptability to complexity.

For approximately 200,000 years, humans were hunter-gatherers wandering around the savanna, looking for a meal. Then, about 20,000 years ago, we settled down to gradually become farmers, and with that, we were able to build communities and, ultimately, cities. Fast forward to a mere 5,000 years ago and the Bronze Age is upon humanity and with its metal and written languages appear. Only 200 years ago, the Industrial Age was ushered in with steam and telegraph, quickly followed by oil and telephone.

We are likely in the throes of the Anthropocene, where the world of advanced sciences must play a far deeper role in humanity’s lives. This age is a result of changes wrought by our destructive tendencies, and it will also be known for how complex systems came to shape our future and how we deployed our growing knowledge to repair not just the planet but our species, too.

This is where, in my view, our biggest problem currently exists, as a large part of our population is firmly stuck romanticizing outmoded ages where a blend of hunter-gatherer, farmer, and industrial worker is holding sway over their identity. Just how these fellow citizens who are our friends and family can be convinced to give way to knowledge workers who often seem alien may prove to be an intractable problem where our population has grown too large to assuage.

We are witnessing the destruction of the earth and its carrying capacity, and while we have the means to repair our centuries of mistakes, those continuing the devastation are hampering our progress to such a degree that they hasten the demise of ecosystems that support not only our way of life but life as we know it.

Externalities

From the Lament Series

We are quick to talk of externalities that we perceive are, in some ways, harming us or our communities. What I mean by communities is an amorphous and ill-defined idea that is more of a generalized lament for “all those” whom we do not personally know but “intuitively” have linkages to, even when they don’t live in our immediate vicinity or in our “community.”

Conversations swirl around ideas that baggy pants, video games, music, porn, too many guns, not enough guns, drugs, fake news, immigration, non-English speakers, narcissists, the one percent, the poor, the government, gays, republicans, democrats, George Soros and Hillary Clinton or the Koch Brothers and Proud Boys are the causes of our societal problems.

Who among us really knows what society’s problems are firsthand? I see a man in baggy pants once or twice a week at most, if I see them more often and don’t like it, maybe I should change where I’m hanging out. I don’t play video games often and I have a choice of what I do play. I love music of all genres, and aside from my teen years, I’ve never felt compelled to slam dance at the grocery store. I never see people acting out porn in public, carrying an arsenal of weaponry, or seeing my local coffee shop explode into a bare-knuckle brawl because there was nobody with a gun to keep order.

I feel bad for the young adults in the coffee shop nodding at a table from their addiction to opioids and wish there was help for them and that they’d had what they needed as children to not reach these lows. Immigration has brought me cheaper food, great software, clean hospitals for my sick relatives, affordable motel rooms across America, restaurant diversity, well-trained doctors, nurses, mechanics, engineers, architects, and a range of other workers, professionals, teachers, and entertainers.

The one percent go about their wealthy lives just as they always have. I hear there are more of them, but I don’t see their Gulf Streams on the freeway, their yachts in a local pool, or large tracts of land being sequestered by eminent domain for them to build their next mega-million square-foot mansions.

George Soros and the Koch Brothers have never offered me cash or asked for my advice. Matter of fact, I can’t see where their impact is on my life. I don’t feel gay, and at 55 years old, I’m guessing I may never come out, but who knows? Maybe the impact of the gay influence will take longer to work on me, though I think this is just me talking out of my ass. As far as right-wing extremism and, for that matter, left-wing extremism, I’m not for choking out anyone or flattening economies and choices in order to establish a perfect socialist state.

I’d wager that the majority of people would have to answer the same. However, I’m also certain there will be those indignant few who are feeling personally harmed by their perceptions that have become a kind of reality with an immediacy verging on panic who will take umbrage and inform me that I have my eyes closed.

How many of us look at ourselves and engage in such a vociferous dialog about our own shortcomings, biases, and attitudes that are creating the cages that close in on our outlook? I’d posit that most people somehow believe their opinions are on solid footing, and because they are the owners of their view, it is the correct one. Where did these outlooks take shape? When was the last time you took a hard look at a potentially outdated perception and cast it off as foolish and full of bias, maybe delivered by someone who was ill-equipped to offer us such a skewed opinion that corrupted our own in the first place?

So why are we choosing to wear the baggage of others who are pushing us to adopt unhealthy attitudes toward ourselves and our communities?

Maybe we have an inherent need to be outraged. Maybe it’s a mask that hides other aspects of ourselves that we are unhappy with. If we complained too much about our own shortcomings, I’d guess we’d find depression creeping in pretty quickly.

This still leaves unanswered what the underlying issues are that we collectively (to a large degree) believe are the problems in our society that are destroying the essential fabric of life in modern America.

I believe that the majority of Americans in this can of unhappy worms are generally dissatisfied with their lives. Don’t get me wrong, they may have great jobs, families, and opportunities, but something is missing. It could be that their jobs take them into contact with the unwashed masses of mediocrity and their fear of what is accepted as intellectual normal may weigh heavy on them.

Maybe people would like to tackle some difficult subjects but don’t have the income or time to learn a musical instrument, a foreign language, or how to be an electrical engineer.

I’m coming to believe that a large part of our dissatisfaction is about shortcomings within ourselves and the recognition that those around us are not going to act as positive role models and mentors. In that sense, the order of the cross-generational influence is broken.

Our problems in society are not what others are doing and not doing; it is what we are lacking and failing to do. This isn’t about happiness per se; it is about self-satisfaction. I don’t need to be happy as I’m well familiar that I have angry and sad sides too that also offer a kind of nourishment, but I do need to be human. Only when I’m in discovery and accomplishment, do I feel my most human characteristics growing and starting to shine.

Stagnation in constant lament is a downward spiral that will never offer us the opportunity to become. When we are distracted from the boring selves that take us into complaining about irrelevant things and exploring new horizons, we are usually taken by the moment and find that we are finding exciting new dimensions of our truer natures.

Our problems are not from those “out there” found in externalities; they are from the meek person within who is afraid to be bigger than the group’s anger.

Cultivating Mediocrity

From the Lament Series

Insipidness abounds when mediocrity becomes the new meritocracy, while banality can offer good standing in your local hate group. So, from the top of the system to the bottom, we can have goals.

Why are we cultivating these trends?

I always wanted to fit in, to be accepted, but I felt like I was on the outside regardless of how much I tried. Now I know I’m on the outside, and I no longer want to fit in; I want others to rise up from the muck of their putrid minds, shake off the stink of intellectual stagnation, and reinvigorate their humanity by embracing what has propelled our species forward for millennia, which in my view is the exploration of potential.

I’m afraid we are course-correcting the trajectory of advancement we’ve been moving down and that it may prove to have been too fast for the majority of our species to keep pace. After one hundred years of incredible technological progress, it appears that the powers that be are curbing our path forward. Instead of paving the way with policies that allow and encourage easy participation and personal development, we are harming the structures and institutions that have, in the past, been responsible for giving an opportunity to those who can and are willing to grasp them.

My opportunity to advance my own early education was wrecked by a system that forbade my overly ambitious curiosity and insisted I conform to my peers both socially and intellectually. If I wasn’t fitting in, I was in trouble. I was cast aside while those who preened themselves in blind subservience were elevated to seize the chance to attend the best post-secondary schools.

Maybe my socioeconomic background played a role, or maybe the majority in my community were simply destined for tertiary roles in society, and education was not deemed to be imperative. But still, my curiosity and desire for knowledge were bolting straight ahead; I just couldn’t tackle the mistrust of systems that seemed to reward cultural conformity and, too often, intellectual mediocrity.

Today, we look at designer medicine based on individual genetics and extol the virtues of this future form of healthcare, and yet we still force our children through a meat grinder that makes too many of them look and act like formless bags of gray meat. How can we consider a new practice of medicine that could treat 325 million Americans individually and not be able to start tackling individualized education for our children?

Did the experiment of enlightenment fail, or are we failing nature? When do we return to cultivating potential and stop the race into the depths of our own worst instincts?

Fatoumata Diawara

Fatoumata Diawara at the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, Arizona

This is Fatoumata Diawara at the Musical Instrument Museum that we were fortunate enough to see this evening. Fatoumata is from Mali in Africa though it appears she has taken up residence in France. Not only is she an acclaimed musician who has shared the stage with Paul McCartney, but she’s an actress that has appeared in about a dozen films. Her closing number was an amazing romp of high energy during which she was able to bring the audience to their feet joining in the celebration. After a couple of songs for her encore, she brought nearly two dozen people on stage with her to dance the performance to a close.

Backfill

The United States Capitol building in Washington D.C.

I started blogging here at Johnwise.com nearly 13 years ago, but have been living and doing stuff for a lot longer than that. Now that I’m far more comfortable writing and my computer has no problem dealing with processing large images, I felt it was time to start backfilling this blog that chronicles a considerable amount of Caroline’s and my life together. So way back in this blog, more than 350 pages ago, there are some entries that I’ve dated into the 1960s. Those entries were made with photos I scanned in from our archive of memorabilia. About 19 years ago we started shooting digital images at about the same time we were starting to travel quite a bit. The convenience of stepping away from film while gaining date stamps on photos has allowed us to catalog our travel history quite accurately. Because those blog entries may never be seen due to where they reside by date, I’m going to occasionally share some highlights up here on the front of this site in order to bring attention to those posts. Sure, Google will ultimately add them to search results, though I can’t imagine that 18 to 100-year-old photos and writings will be of much interest to the majority of people looking for current information. Here goes, above is, of course, the United States Capitol building in Washington D.C. This image was taken on November 12, 2000, on the 12th day of a 21-day drive across America. We had never driven across the United States together, and following Caroline’s mother’s return to Germany after we spent the better part of October with her in Yellowstone, New Mexico, and Tombstone, we had travel fever and spontaneously decided to venture out to Maine and back. To check out not only some old low-resolution digital photos of that trip but also to read about our impressions, you can start with Day 1 by clicking HERE. All links in this blog entry will point to various dates that I’m referencing from Johnwise.com.

Jutta Engelhardt in Gleeson, Arizona

Over the years, my mother-in-law Jutta has played a large role in our travels as she’s visited the United States on ten occasions. We’ve taken her to all four corners of America, from Niagara Falls to Key West and the Pacific Northwest to Los Angeles. Along the way, she learned to smile, laugh, and let go of a bit of her German nature, but just a bit. This photo stems from a short four-day road trip that was part of her 33-day stay in the U.S. when we took her into the southeast corner of Arizona from Saguaro National Park to Tombstone, Bisbee, and the surrender site of Geronimo. Maybe memories were created. Click here to visit this blog entry that started on October 13, 2000.

Sunrise near Key Largo, Florida

Fast forward to April 17, 2003, and Jutta once again joined us, this time for a 12-day road trip across the Southern United States to Florida. This particular picture was from Day 6 as we entered the Florida Keys early in the morning. On this vacation, we visited New Orleans, the Everglades, Savannah, Georgia, Smoky Mountains National Park, Graceland, Paris, Texas, and White Sands National Monument. Click the date in the first sentence or “Day 6” to jump to this blog entry.

Rio Grande in Big Bend National Park, Texas

We don’t only travel with the mother-in-law, and more often than not, it is just Caroline and me out exploring the country. On this road trip that hugged the Mexican-American border, we visited Big Bend National Park and checked out the Rio Grande, along with heading up to pay a visit to Carlsbad Caverns, Bosque del Apache, and the Petrified Forest. Click here to join us on our Christmas 2002 journey that even featured snow.

Olympic National Park Washington

Just the month before that, we were in the Pacific Northwest for a week over Thanksgiving. We started this adventure by staying at the Little A’LE’INN in Rachel, Nevada, near Area 51, visited Mount St. Helens, Olympic National Park, and our first rain forest (seen above), and still had time to visit the Redwoods and a California ghost town. Learn about the best Thanksgiving ever by clicking here.

Caroline Wise at Crater Lake National Park in Oregon

The summer of 2002 was a busy one. Not only did we visit Crater Lake in Oregon over the Fourth of July, we also dipped into Yosemite, a small corner of Death Valley that is rarely visited, and Lassen Volcanic National Park. Starting in June, we also visited Death Valley proper and Los Angeles, and then in July, we again stopped in Los Angeles for some Hawaiian dance. Finally, in late summer, we ventured out on a four-day trip to Mount Rushmore in South Dakota.

Grand Falls on the Little Colorado River in Northern Arizona

This photo of Grand Falls in Arizona is part of the Little Colorado River that will empty in the Colorado River deep in the Grand Canyon. We were out in the Four Corners with Jutta during that year 2000 trip that had us visiting Chaco Culture in New Mexico, sleeping in Kokopelli Cave overlooking Shiprock, visiting the Navajo Nation Fair, exploring a slot canyon, and rafting a small section of the Colorado River below Glen Canyon Dam. Click here to follow us on that journey.

Multnomah Falls on the Columbia River in Oregon

Five states in five days was the way we had our first encounter with the Oregon coast in March 2002. Seen here is Multnomah Falls on the Columbia River as we traced its banks coming out of the snow of Idaho. Sometimes, when you live in Arizona, you tend to forget the bad weather other states are experiencing. If you’d like to share with us our first impressions of this state that has drawn us back a dozen times, click here.

Ute Reservation, Colorado

On July 14, 2001, after spending the night in a Wigwam in Holbrook, we were driving northwest to the Ute Reservation before stopping on the Zune Reservation to check out some beautiful art. This was a quick two-day-jaunt and is quite typical of many of our travels back in the day. Click here to visit this “oldie but goldie” blog entry.