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.

The Rationality Catapult

JWise Thoughts

Roman Coin Featuring Claudius "ROMAN EMPIRE, CLAUDIUS 41-54 A.D. b" by woody1778a

I recently wrote about the Origins Project that was operating through Arizona State University for a number of years and which, in many ways, came to an end by 2017. This got Caroline and me talking about how many great lectures we had attended, and then it all stopped, just as the music stopped once the COVID-19 pandemic shut things down. The difference, though, is there wasn’t a pandemic per se but a catapult of rationality that happened to coincide with the program going quiet. But why?

It was time to legitimize that segment of the population that had been feeling excluded and fearful of becoming irrelevant. As society progresses during this age, there is an increasing requirement for a wide swath of our population to wrestle with complexity. Due to limited resources of deep intellect to explore difficult problems, humanity must pull from all corners of culture to find the talent that can rise to the daunting challenges we are facing. In these ever-shifting sands, it’s inevitable that people will be left behind; this has always been part of the price of progress.

When we attended our first Origins event, it was in 2011, which was also the year that the Google Brain Team was established. Look at any image of that group, and you’ll see a microcosm of what our workforce is inching ever closer to looking like. This was also the same year the Occupy Wall Street movement began, though this might have had its roots in the Tea Party movement that got underway in 2009. Another part of this puzzle is that the smartphone gained serious popularity with the release of the iPhone back in 2007. So, how are these disparate elements playing a role in the catapulting of rationality?

Since the advent of the commercial internet in 1995, and even before that, with the rollout of the personal computer, great stressors were being placed on the way business was evolving and how people were employed and remunerated. Between 2007 and 2011, we left the first stage of the internet behind as it became ubiquitous in everyday life. Out of the ruins of the housing collapse, we saw the demise of the Big Block stores accelerate and a move away from Mom & Pop restaurants. People were simultaneously heading online for shopping while at the same time looking for uniform experiences from those things and places where they were spending money.

The speed of innovation and the changing face of the labor force combined with social media platforms that were spreading information faster than ever were all contributing to more and more people being able to see the place they were living in clearer than ever before. While some of us who grew up in Los Angeles, San Francisco, or New York City in the 70s and 80s saw this cultural shift first hand, the majority of Americans only had only caught glimpses through television. As time went by, these same isolated citizens were starting to wake up to the fact that gay marriage, Indian programmers, and pharmacists, along with predominately Hispanic kitchen labor, were all around them, and they panicked.

By 2017, the momentum behind the Make America Dumb Again and Pride of the Deplorables was in full swing. Behind the movement of silly archaic ideas was an exploitative media blowing dog whistles, convincing this segment of our population that revolt was the best way forward. This culminated with a near-full-on attack on the U.S. Capitol in a half-hearted attempt to overthrow the U.S. Government.

The progress made after the 1968 countercultural revolution has been curtailed by the events and messaging of the past four years, and I can’t yet see that this momentum will be recaptured as America must deal with the recognition that abandoning any segment of the population is detrimental to its overall health. Failing to lift up those who are less fortunate is equivalent to having an immigrant problem but ignoring it while it serves particular economic benefits. Our problems are deep and complex; calling a group dumb, deplorable, liberal, racist, or any other moniker that riles the “base” only contributes to issues becoming intractable. Fixing things from the end of a gun barrel might work in some war situations but has never been conducive to propelling societies forward in any prosperous manner.

But the catapult of rationality has been launched, and where its payload landed is beyond my purview; I can only hope that 2020 will not have been our 476, and we are so far gone that all is lost.

The coin image is licensed by Creative Commons and is titled Claudius “ROMAN EMPIRE, CLAUDIUS 41-54 A.D. b” by woody1778a

Where Would You Go?

JWise Thoughts

"Old Globe" by ToastyKen

The question occasionally arises in media that asks, “What would you do if you were confronted with your imminent demise?” Well, neither Caroline nor I am facing that right now that we are aware of, but we do have a somewhat similar question in front of us that asks, “What must you do or see in this corner of the planet if you were moving to the other side of it in the future?” What places are so important that should you no longer live in that country or state, it would become a hardship to return just for that one location? For example, imagine you went to Paris but were unable to visit the Louvre.

So we’ve scoured the map, and the first glaring omission is that we’ve never visited Central or South America. Closer to home, the list turns out to be quite short. We only identified four places we’ve never been to, three destinations we’d like to visit again, and two events we’d like to catch. They are in the order I just listed above: Lowell Observatory and the Arboretum in Flagstaff, Arizona, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, and taking the Amtrak from old Route 66 in Arizona into the Great Plains. Our return visits would bring us back to the Monterey Bay Aquarium in California, the Oregon Coast, and relatively low on the list of priorities for culinary reasons, Oki Dog, Shakey’s, and the Northwoods Inn all in the Los Angeles area. Finally, the events include the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the Rhinebeck Sheep & Wood Festival held in New York state. That’s it for the United States

From Mexico south and Central America, we have three or four things on our list, including kayaking in the Sea of Cortez among the whales, a textile tour in Peru, and another textile tour in either Oaxaca or Chiapas, Mexico. With that, we’ll feel we did justice to seeing the world around us while we lived in America. For anyone who’d point out that a visit or two to points south of us would never do justice to understanding an iota of our southern neighbors, we are well aware of that, but life is too short to ever know everywhere.

Sure, we’d like just one more visit to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and a number of other national parks, but lodging in those parks is already sold out for 2021. Believe it or not, we’ve seen the majority of America, and while we’ve never been to Vancouver, Canada, or taken in Butchart Gardens in Victoria, we’re okay with that.

After 26 years in America, we are approaching the need to immerse ourselves in something else. The natural beauty and ease of meeting people are certainly attractive, but the detractors are growing too big to ignore. The prices of housing, health care, and transportation will garrote our retirement experience or demand that we work to death. That ugly idea of working to death is beyond the pale and feels inhumane, and so we’ll be looking at when our time in America has to come to an end and have another new beginning where limited resources can go further. After all, this is all about going further.

Image licensed under Creative Commons titled “Old Globe” by ToastyKen

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.

Desolation Road

JWise Photo of the Day

Gila River Indian Reservation in Arizona

I’m not exactly motivated to make these travels, but the rut I have fallen into at home, while not debilitating, is not as productive as I’d prefer either. By pushing myself down the road to take photos and consider what I am thinking is an exercise to force a change of habit.

I sketched the idea of where the road would take me today before I left home instead of just pointing the car in some direction and going. I’m heading down to Maricopa to wend my way through Native American lands. A semblance of a route had to be known beforehand as signage on Indian roads is not always ideal. Once off the freeway, I was briefly on the Gila River Indian Reservation and on my way through the desert mirage known as the city of Maricopa. There are no photos of that place as it’s a generic abomination of everything that typifies the worst architectural and planning decisions here in Arizona.

Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

The radio and music are off in order to maintain as much quiet as possible while also forcing me to listen to what’s going on in my head. Come to think of it, the silence is a kind of social distancing of me from digital and broadcast media. Before ever reaching this edge of the Tohono O’odham Indian Reservation I had to pass through the gauntlet of feedlots with 10s of thousands of cows. I can be happy it’s not summer yet.

Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

On some stretches of the road, there’s not a lot that differentiates the landscape, not that this should diminish how visually engaging it is all same. It’s easy when I’m not pressed by other drivers racing up behind me to crawl along, barely maintaining 35mph in an area with a 65 mph limit. Many of these notes were taken while stopped in my lane as there are few places to pull over. To keep any stress at bay, when I do see someone less than a mile behind me I’m already scouting for a sliver of gravel to pull over at and wait. Chances are good that it will be another 5 or 10 minutes before another car is in my rearview mirror.

Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

Barely paved best describes one of the roads that my GPS suggested I turn on. While I knew I wanted to stay on Route 42 to North Komelik, this detour on an unnamed road proved interesting. I probably don’t need to mention that I was the only person on this entire 5 mile stretch of road.

Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

While I was out here I had no way of determining exactly where I was. It turns out this is the site of the Tat Momolikot Dam that at one time held back Lake Saint Clair that no longer exists. I wonder how many people will ever see this graffiti of Hulk snacking on a prickly pear?

Cholla Cactus on the Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

Teddy bear cholla cactus is in abundance down this way and while it’s beautiful I tend to watch where my feet are stepping as the spurs of the needles are known to grab hold of everything to hitch a ride, hence their unofficial name of jumping cholla.

Memorial site on the Cholla Cactus on the Ak Chin Indian Reservation in Arizona

On Indian Route-15 there were too many shrines for those who died on this road. This particular monument is in memory of Derk L. Poola who passed away back in 1996. If I told you that there is at least one memorial per mile on average, it would not be an exaggeration. Sadly, there’s no accompanying story of what happened when the person lost their life on this desolate road. There’s no roadkill to speak of so it wasn’t like a deer jumped in their way. Not many, if any, sharp turns are out here either, leaving either drugs, alcohol, or falling asleep. Whatever the cause, this is a visceral reminder that this stretch of highway eats souls.

Dry River Bed on the Ak Chin Indian Reservation in Arizona

Near the turnoff to Santa Rosa on the Tohono O’odham Indian Reservation is where I photographed this dry river bed. Upon getting home I tried to see if it had a name, but it appears that it is only an unnamed wash. Speaking of, there have been lots of signs warning of flash floods and I could imagine that during the monsoon season this region sees a goodly amount of rain. Short of getting trapped on a small amount of high ground, I sure would like to be right here during a downpour.

Baby Doll Arm at the side of the road on the Ak Chin Indian Reservation in Arizona

Heading back to my car this friendly amputated baby-doll arm was waving at me or was it wanting to high-five me? I went for the high-five and felt empowered by the disembodied random hand jammed into the barrier that someone must have sensed was needed here on the side of the road for the wellbeing of passersby.

Tohono O'odham Indian Reservation

There’s so much cactus out here that there’s little else to think about than cactus and the hope of seeing a snake.

At the intersection of Hwy 86 and Indian Route 15 is the Gu-Achi Trading Post, a good place to stop for a homemade burrito and drink before continuing on the dusty road.

Abandoned Gas Station in Why, Arizona

I stopped at an abandoned gas station at the intersection of the 86 and the 85 in Why, Arizona, because abandoned anything is always of interest. The payphone out front is still intact and not full of graffiti but it doesn’t have a dial tone, I wonder how long it is before no one knows what a dial tone was? A sign across the street lets me know that I’m 93 miles from Rocky Point in Mexico or just 27 miles from the border. Sometimes I forget how close to our southerly neighbor we live.

Mural in Ajo, Arizona

What’s the story of Ajo? Lot’s of empty houses, storefronts, and lodging but it’s not broken into or falling to pieces. Why was this such a happening place back in the day? Like many towns outside of Phoenix, Prescott, Flagstaff, and Tucson, Ajo was founded on the possibilities offered by mining. That potential dried up when the last operations ceased in 1985.

Church in Ajo, Arizona

Ajo is only 38 miles north of Mexico and more than 100 miles either east or west from Tucson and Yuma making it perfect for Border Control agents who have taken to making this old town their home.

Barry M. Goldwater Air Force Range in Arizona

From Ajo, it’s a straightforward drive through desert scrub next to the Barry M. Goldwater Air Force Range. While I scanned the skies looking for bombers or the lasers this sign warned about, I only saw more dirt, more cactus, rocks, and even more brown dead grass.

Barry M. Goldwater Air Force Range in Arizona

And then I came upon this scene forcing me to stop and ogle it before continuing to the ever disappearing town of Gila Bend.

Train in Gila Bend, Arizona

Maybe the best thing out here in Gila Bend is the train that runs through, oh, and toilets if I’m traveling with the wife.

Relatively North

JWise Photo of the Day

On State Route 87 near the turnoff to the Four Peaks Wilderness Area in Arizona

Today is Caroline’s first day back in the office in about 6 months. Going home to an empty place is not an option nor is hanging out at my favorite coffee shop so I’m heading out on another brief road trip. Being out here for the second time in the past few days it’s dawning on me that maybe people are not driving any more aggressive than usual, but I’ve simply grown unaccustomed to the frantic race to be somewhere. My opening photo is from the turnoff to the Four Peaks Wilderness Area on Route 87. I wasn’t heading to the Four Peaks but instead was trying to find a vantage point to shoot this image as I’ve always loved the thousands of boulders the dot this landscape as the road crawls away from the Salt River below. In the center are the four lanes of the highway, two lanes in each direction separated by a boulder island. Once up in this beautiful scenery, it becomes dangerous to try and pull over and snap a photo so this will have to serve as my enduring memory.

Beeline Hwy in Sunflower, Arizona

Route 87 also known as the Bee Line Highway used to run right through here in the Sunflower area. This scenic gem runs next to Sycamore Creek which probably played into the situation that follows. Coming home from a holiday weekend in the Payson area could take hours as this narrow stretch of road was prone to accidents and on occasion a semi would roll over, blocking both lanes of the road. Today the road is quiet and abruptly ends just a mile and a half from here. A berm and a fence with warnings of entering private property being forbidden stop the curious such as me, but I saw on Google Maps that the other end of the road is now listed as a forest service road and is poorly marked which demands that next time I’m up this way I’ll have to take a look.

Looking out towards Gisela, Arizona

I don’t know how we missed this, but somehow we did. I’m referring to a visit to Gisela, Arizona. Back in January 1994 when Caroline and I got married we were traveling north on Route 87, taking the scenic way to the Grand Canyon, as we passed the sign for the turnoff to Gisela. A roar went up with the 6 of us (when we got married we invited 4 friends from Germany to join the trip) as we all knew that a friend who worked for the techno clothing designer Hypnobasia had a girlfriend named Gisela. Everyone thought it strange that there would be a town way out here with a German name. Anyway, we never took that turn and for the intervening years, we sped right by every time.

Historic Corral from 1917 in Gisela, Arizona

Now I know why we drove by. Gisela is close to being a lot of nothing. While the U.S. presidential election was over almost 5 months ago, you’d never know if from the signage in front of the clapboard hovels and mobile homes. There may be more ways of displaying Don’t Tread On Me in Gisela than there are U.S. flags. While the community is relatively compact that hasn’t stopped people from having inordinately high fences and warnings about dogs. I can only wonder how many guns were pointed my way as I drove through silently at 10mph in my hybrid. The highlight of the place is found at a circular corral first erected in 1917 and restored in 1983 by the Gisela Homemakers Club. I almost marveled at the craftsmanship.

North of Payson, Arizona

Other than stopping for a coffee, I pretty much drove right through Payson. Nothing has changed, maybe ever. I think that after Walmart opened in this forested community, they had everything they’d ever need and that was that. Up the road a bit I pulled over to snap this photo next to the East Verde River. I’d like to share how beautiful this part of Arizona is and it’s undeniably that, but there’s something ominous going on in the area; it’s called drought. In all my years passing through here, I’ve cannot recall seeing so many dead trees.

North of Strawberry, Arizona

While we are within days of hitting the 90s (32c) down in Phoenix there’s still a smattering of snow along the road and on nearby mountain ridges. Maybe the high country will see a lot of moisture this year as I vaguely remember hearing something about the chance for a wetter monsoon season but, considering how often the weather service is correct, I’ll remain skeptical and hope fire doesn’t eat more of these trees. As for my location, I’m north of Strawberry which, like Payson, holds no interest for me any longer. This is unfortunate as at one time it was my dream to retire among the trees of Strawberry to live quietly until my last days.

Looking South Towards Strawberry, Arizona

Should we someday find ourselves living again in Europe, I’ll likely turn to photos like this of our travels in America to remind myself of how spectacular the skies are. By the way, being up here on a Monday turned out to be a real treasure as there were no RZR’s (sport performance vehicles) or Harley Davidson packs screaming down the road. Just me, the breeze, and the birds.

Looking towards Camp Verde, Arizona

Route 260 West is the road that leads me out of the mountains and back to the high desert. Well into the distance is Camp Verde where I’ll check out their historic downtown (disappointing) before getting on the 17 Freeway South to Phoenix.

Juniper Berries near Camp Verde, Arizona

While the temperature was climbing but still pleasant I was able to keep the windows wide open. That wind brought the strong smell of juniper berries into the car, I had to stop at the next fruiting tree to get a look and a deeper whiff. I wish Caroline had been there sharing all of this as her experiencing these things with me amplifies how amazing it is.

On the road to Bumble Bee, Arizona

My body is no longer accustomed to the long hauls as my butt hurts and I have a stiff neck. The neck might be a condition of the pollen as often at this time of year I suffer from a runny nose, burning eyes, and some discomfort in and around the head and shoulders. To relieve the butt pain I pulled off at Bumble Bee with the intention of driving the 5 miles out to this ghost town, but after a mile of dirt road, I’d decided I didn’t want the washboard experience and turned around. I still needed to get out and stretch my legs and work some blood into my backside, plus the view of the desert at the cusp of spring is a sight to linger in.