Life offers us many paths to wander down. Each has its own set of obstacles, challenges, and surprises. Some are good. Others not so. We won’t know which is which or what is what until we take those steps and journey. Along anyone of these paths there’s always a good chance we will meet others doing the same thing as us. Some could be good. Others not so. We are given the choice here as well. We can simply pass without acknowledging the other. We can notice but offer nothing more than a slight smile or a quiet hello. Or we can choose to stop and talk to that person knowing that this choice also comes with a set of obstacles, challenges, and surprises. There are four paths, if you will, that lead one to the park by my house. On any given day you will see kids playing sports, families celebrating, friends in deep conversation, and plenty of dogs leading their handlers down paths of their own making. If you time your visit right, there is a good chance you will see Marilyn, who for the last 45 years has completed at least one lap every day around the 1.3 mile pathway in the park.
“Truthfully, I don’t know when I began doing it. It probably started with the squirrels.” Whenever it was, today every fluffy tailed creature within that circular pathway can spot her light blue windbreaker and trademark Dodger’s cap from a hundred yards away. Even the most unruly and misbehaving pet will sit patiently for their turn to receive a small dog biscuit or a handful of kibble.
What is most surprising is that while Marilyn might have trouble remembering when she began spoiling everyone's pets, she seems to know every one of her four-legged friends by name. If you choose to introduce yourself to her, there is a great chance she will remember your name and story too. At home, Marilyn has two cats named Frankie and Ava. But here at the park, it’s all about the dogs (and the squirrels). You might say this is what Marilyn likes to do with her hands, which is obvious as my dog pokes her nose towards her hands for a second (or maybe third) treat. “I never got into knitting or sewing or stuff like that. So, I guess I like to use my hands to feed dogs.” In her past life, Marilyn used her hands to care for humans in her own special way. “I wanted to be a doctor, but I didn’t really want to do all the work and school that would take. So, I became a nurse.” After attending nursing school in Vancouver, Marilyn came down to Los Angeles with her friend to see what opportunities they could find. As an only child, her mother wasn’t too keen on the idea but after Marilyn told her it was only for a year, her mother conceded. That was 1960. Not long after arriving, the two interviewed for nursing jobs at UCLA hospital. Both were offered the job on the spot and started working the next day. Marilyn stayed at that job until she retired. If you were to ask me, I don’t think she has really retired. At the age of 87, Marilyn takes care of a younger neighbor who because of health reasons is unable to get out to grocery shop or take her trash out. So, Marilyn does it for her. Like she said, “If you can help someone, you do it.” This is how she defines a good deed. From my own observations, I suspect Marilyn helps many others too. Not just the pets, but the people who walk them. Rarely have I ever seen her without a slow-moving entourage at her side. As one of those persons told me, “Everyone wants to know Marilyn.” And know I know why. She is kind, generous, and simply a joy to be around. I didn’t ask her why she never married. Perhaps her heart was too big to love or care for just one. But as I got to know her, I learned she always had a very close relationship with a friend at work who made her a part of the family. Although her friend as passed away, Marilyn is still close to her kids and their kids, and I suspect their pets as well. “Her children are my godchildren. I used to take care of them, but now they take care of me.” While she hasn’t really strayed too far from the path she has chosen for herself, Marilyn doesn’t regret her choice. Instead, she feels blessed “to still be here doing everything I love do.” Which takes me to another thing Marilyn loves. Dodgers baseball. This was surprising considering she grew up Regina, Saskatchewan; a Canandian city that loves its hockey. “My parents watched a lot of sports, but I never liked hockey.” She watches every Dodger game on television and has a pretty good handle on who’s in and who’s out. She is also a Lakers basketball fan, and like me tries to catch every game. “I love watching sports, and cheering for the players.” But that’s not all that she loves. She loves crunchy peanut butter over creamy. “I like nuts.” And I love that she doesn’t think soup is a meal. “Unless it’s a stew then maybe that could be a meal.” As my dog went in for dessert, I asked Marilyn who she’d like to have dinner with. Her answer was both a surprise and delight. “You’d be nice.” Considering how many meals she has fed my dog, I would have no problem inviting this beautiful soul into my home, to sit at my table, to break bread with me and my family. There’s a song by the band The Handsome Family who sing “Some folks are like umbrellas, they come into your life with little meaning. And then there are the ones who make you hang on to every word.” That is Marilyn. How lucky am I that on this path I chose, I stopped and got a wonderful surprise? Thankfully this path we both chose is circular. When I say goodbye to Marilyn today, I know our paths will cross again tomorrow. And like my pup, I know each time I stop to say hello I will walk away happy and content with whatever treat she has to offer.
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I asked Apple’s Siri a question. “Hey, Siri. Tell me something I don’t know.” The answer I received back was embarrassingly lame. “I don’t think I understand,” said the stupid electronic voice in his fake Australian accent. I will admit, Siri and I have a love hate relationship. And I’ll leave it at that. So, I’m not sure if Siri didn’t understand my question, which is very possible. Or was Siri telling me something deeply personal about myself, and my insecurities (something it does often)? Thankfully there is Google, which I opened and I typed, “Tell me something I don’t know.” That too turned up a few surprises - 2,510,000,000 to be exact. Apparently, there is a lot of stuff I don't know. For example, I didn’t know that what I smugly typed is the title to Selena Gomez’s debut single from the soundtrack of the movie Another Cinderella Story (which I didn’t know about either). But as I scrolled down in the search engine, I also learned there is a radio game show called, you guessed it, Tell Me Something I Don’t Know, which is hosted by Stephen J. Dubner the co-author of the book Freakonomics (a book I did know about, so there). As I played my own game of Google Roulette, I clicked on a page entitled “60 Weird Facts Most People Don’t Know.” Although I am not most people, I was stunned at how many things I needed to learn. And according to Reader’s Digest, here are twelve of those things to mark Day 12 of KNOWvember. 1. Ice pops were invented by an 11-year-old by accident
"In 1905, an 11-year-old boy named Frank Epperson left soda powder and water outside overnight with its wooden stirrer still in the cup. The mixture had frozen in the chilly nighttime weather, and so the Epsicle was born. He sold the treat around his neighborhood and a nearby amusement park and even patented the recipe. Years later, he changed the name to Popsicle because that’s what his kids called their pop’s concoction." 2. Froot Loops “loops” are all the same flavor That's right, kids, all Froot Loops taste like which is apparently like "froot." 3. The last letter added to the alphabet was actually “J” The alphabet that we know and love today wasn’t created alphabetically! 4. The shortest commercial flight in the world is in Scotland Scottish regional airline Loganair flies a distance of 1.7 miles between the islands Westray and Papa Westray which is scheduled to take 90 seconds. Not long enough for the wool in one's kilt to get itchy. (Fun Fact: Scotland also has 421 words for snow. Take that Alaska!) 5. There are 5 countries in the world that don’t have airports But Vatican City, San Marino, Monaco, Liechtenstein, and Andorra somehow make it work! 6. Octopuses have three hearts One heart pumps blood to their whole systems, and two are dedicated just to the gills. But they aren't the only ones undersea with extra hearts to spare. Squids have three too. 7. Lobsters taste with their feet "Tiny bristles inside a lobster’s little pincers are their equivalent to human taste buds. Meanwhile, lobsters’ teeth are in one of their three stomachs." 8. 3 Musketeers bars got their name because they used to come with three flavors I was blown away to learn this about one of my favorite candy bars. It turns out that the "original 3 Musketeers bars of the 1930s came in three-packs, with a different nougat flavor in each: vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry. Rising cost and rationing restrictions during World War II made it too expensive to produce all three. Which is why we know have one. (Fun Fact: nugget is really just whipped mousse. Now I know.) 9. Blue whale tongues can weigh as much as an elephant Their hearts, meanwhile, can weigh almost a ton and needs to beat just once every ten seconds. Imagine nursing that heartbreak. 10. The world’s largest waterfall is underwater First of all, I had no idea there are waterfalls under the ocean. Second, the biggest one is at the Denmark Strait, where the dense, cold water from the Nordic Sea collides with the warm water of the Irminger Sea causing it drop almost two miles down "at 123 million cubic feet per second." 11. Researchers once turned a live cat into a telephone "Princeton researchers Ernest Wever and Charles Bray took out a cat’s skull and most of its brain to connect the animal to electricity. When they spoke into the cat’s ear, the sound could be heard through a phone receiver in another room. The twisted experiment paved the way for cochlear implant developments." 12. Dunce caps used to be signs of intelligence "Thirteenth-century philosopher John Duns Scotus believed that a pointed cap would help spread knowledge from the tip to the brain, and his “Dunsmen” followers wore them as a badge of honor. In the 1500s, though, his ideas became less popular and the meaning of the Duns cap was turned on its head, becoming something of a joke." GIANT DISCLAIMER: All these facts were compiled and written by someone smarter than me at Reader’s Digest magazine. I give all creative credit to that person who also pointed out that “Albert Einstein” is an anagram for “ten elite brains.” None of which are mine. Yesterday we spoke of light, so today seems to be a good time to explore darkness. Not the spiritual kind, but the actual lack of light kind. It comes to us all the way from Romania. And it was brought to my attention by my science-geek friend Brad Baker who suggested we get to know Movile Cave. Hidden underground in Southeast Romania (about 2 km from the shores of the Black Sea), Movile Cave went unnoticed for millions of years until it was accidentally discovered in 1986. Yes, while our primate relatives were trying to evolve into homo sapiens, there was a whole other world evolving below their feet. A world that is by far stranger than fiction in that it not only exists in total darkness, but has thrived unnoticed right below our feet. While you might be ready to abandon lockdown and get on the next flight out of town, this cave is not a very big tourist destination. And for good reason. For starters, it is relatively small and its narrow entrance is often blocked with a thick layer of clay that has kept sunlight, food, or water from passing through the surface. While this has help keep the cave at a steady temperature of 21 C, it has also kept all its residents separated from the outside world for about 5.5 million years. So I guess you could say it’s not very hospitable to humans. On the bright side (no pun intended) the place does boast a lake. But to get to it you have to worm your way through numerous narrow passages, including a few deep drops into total darkness. In other words, room is based on availability. If you are lucky enough to get in, bring an oxygen tank with you because the place reeks of rotten eggs and burnt rubber. That’s because its poisonous atmosphere has a very high concentration of hydrogen sulfide and carbon dioxide, and not a lot of oxygen. But for the adventurous traveler, Dr. Valentina Cetean tells us that Movile Cave is a collection of “gorgeous and spectacular labyrinthine galleries,” and should be “considered one of the greatest discoveries of the century that revolutionized the theories of life on Earth.” If you were so bold, or crazy, to visit inside the cave (no thank you), you would find a “stable and unique chemoautotrophic ecosystem” where the water contains “neither food particles, nor radioactive isotopes common in the soil of Romania after the Chernobyl accident.” Scientists believe the only explanation for its unique quality is that “the water from the cave isn’t coming from above, so it must be coming from 25,000 years old spongy limestones strata from below.” That also might explain the weird things that grow in the dark down there. Based on a paper in the Microbiome Journal, “The Movile Cave ecosystem hosts a diverse range of invertebrates (worms, insects, spiders and crustaceans) that are adapted to life in the dark.”
For those of you who like bugs and crawly things that can kill you, scientist have also identified 33 new species of bizarre creatures that have never before been seen by humans. In their dark, mysterious subterranean Eden there exists unique scorpions, spiders, woodlice, and centipedes who according to Cetean survive on a “frothy foam mat of autotropic bacteria that takes the energy from chemosynthesis (instead of photosynthesis).” Yummy, eh? If you were going for the fine cuisine, think again. This is the only thing this inhospitable hotel has to offer for room service. Unless, of course, you’re into eating bugs (which I have done in Peru and Korea). If you’re game for such a fare, the cave offers plenty of creepy-crawly, slithering things to munch on. “Small insects, pseudoscorpions and other invertebrates which are prey of the unique species of larger predators as spiders, snails, leeches, shrimps, centipedes or water scorpions.” Fun Fact: having lived in complete darkness for millions of years, most of the inhabitants in Movile Cave are blind, but have long appendages like antennae to help them feel their way around. Nearly all are colorless and have translucent skin. There are no flies, yet the spiders spin their webs to capture small insects called “springtails.” Scientist have discovered a venomous centipede that measures between 46 and 52 mm in length. David Nield notes, “Thinking of its top rank in this subterranean system, we decided to name the species Cryptops speleorex, which can be translated to the 'king of the cave'." I’m sure there is a lot more down there, in the dark. But unfortunately, one cannot stay down there for more than 5-6 hours at a time. So by the time you check in, it’s time to check out. For someone who does not do well in complete darkness, especially in cramped spaces riddled with things that can bite me, I can’t see myself going into Movile Cave. But I’m glad I got to know it, if only to know to avoid it now that travel restrictions are being lifted. Work Cited geoera.eu sciencealert.com Wikipedia Unbelievable-facts.com
For a former actor, it seems strange she’d not want the spotlight herself, but on the good work, letting the rocks speak for her. “I wanted to reach the masses when we were restricted from being with the people.” After struggling to find the light within herself, these love bombs seem to be Cassie’s way of returning the light for others. As we spoke, I found so many ways Cassie and I related to one another. We both have had those moments when the light around us seemed to dim a bit. And each time we clung to what little light we had to see us through – often coming out a better, stronger, and wiser because of it. This happened a few times to Cassie, who was honest and sharing with her truth. None of which will be revealed here. That’s her story for her alone to share with the world. But here are some fun facts about her: As a young actress/singer/dancer she performed to the soldiers at Guantánamo Bay. And then returned to Cuba as part of a Beauty Brigade that provides facials female soldiers. When it comes to peanut butter, “Creamy. There’s a place for peanuts but not in my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” And she thinks soup is a meal. “Oh my gosh. Yes. I’m always wanting to know what the soup of the day is.” Her favorite lie is to play dumb when she’s in trouble. “I just say, ‘I didn’t know.’” Raised in Palm Desert, CA she eventually made her way to Los Angeles at 18 hoping for that big break as an entertainer. But life took her in other directions. Sometimes up. Sometimes down. But with each step, obstacle, or barrier to overcome, Cassie began to evolve into the woman she is today. She loves where she is right now. “I’m in a good place in my life.” Still, if she could live in any other time in history, she said, “Well because I love the big band era singers, I guess it would have to be the 1940’s.” What does Cassie what she likes to do with her hands? “I love to create and beautify.” As a trained cosmetologist, Cassie said, “I love to make people feel good. I love doing their hair and makeup then watching the pep-in-their-step as they go away like that.” And that takes us back to her love bombs that I keep hunting for in the park like a kid wandering around playing Pokémon Go! As it turns out, the idea grew out of an idea she had for her grandmother’s funeral. “She had all these rocks in her front yard. I thought instead of people giving flowers I thought people could paint her rocks and leave them as a memorial for others to see.” Cassie still had some of those rocks and paint left over when COVID put us all into lockdown. If you were stuck in quarantine with two young children, like she was, life can get a bit dull or worse, dark. Instead of going there, Cassie decided to do something more light giving! She brought out the paints and began to change the narrative. “During the pandemic I knew the world was hurting. It was sad. The connection was minimal. I wanted to bring happy thoughts and smiles to people. I started painting these rocks. I would put positive quotes or words of wisdom on them. I would remind the passerby’s that there was love out there. I reminded them that their presence makes a difference to the world.” Since no one knew who created the love bombs, Cassie could sit in the park and watch people noticed her work. But soon she noticed something else happening. “People took the rocks. I couldn’t have been happier. I love knowing that I touched someone’s soul. That the message I put out resonated with them. If I could make someone’s day a little brighter, that makes me so happy.” To use her own words, “This is what life is all about. Love. Lifting others. Spreading light in a world full of dark.” I couldn’t agree more. That’s my mission and calling. And it seems to be Cassie’s as well. I might argue that’s everyone’s job. It’s more than just doing a good deed here and there. It's about living into our own goodness all the time, so that others can know it's okay to live into theirs.
“These are daily choices I make because it’s just who I am and how I decide to live my life. I guess you can call them good deeds...I call it normal.” The world could use some more of her kind of normal. Some more light. Some more honesty. Some more good vibes. The world could use more Cassie’s, who through the smallest acts of kindness chooses to make life better, by spreading love around – one sign at a time. In early March 2020, just a week before the pandemic shut down the world, a good buddy of mine came out to Los Angeles to help me do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. That is, to eat my way through LA to find the best taco. I have no idea how that would even be possible seeing he was here only for a week. And had we eaten at a different taqueria every thirty minutes, and forgone sleeping, I am pretty sure we’d barely have made a dent. But still, we tried. In our food adventure, we sampled some very delicious fare. But nowhere in any of those joints did I come across a mulita, the thing we are going to get to KNOWvember. What’s a mulita, you ask? Good question. I only learned about them today when my daughter called me to say hello. Now that I think about it, I think she was really calling to brag about this thing she described as "a street taco quesadilla thing." Intrigued? I was. I needed to And learn more. “You have my attention," I told her, "tell me more. In fact, take a picture of it and then send me a text describing it to me.” (I had to go because I was already late to an interview I set up with someone for KNOWvember.) She here’s the text exchange, written after she ate it.
“In simple words," writes Maricruz Avalos on her food blog, "this street food is a Mexican version of a grilled cheese sandwich where the bread is replaced by tortillas. It resembles a quesadilla as it uses tortillas and cheese, but is also a taco since there’s meat in the inside, and salsas.” Now, I love grilled cheese sandwiches. I love tortillas, cheese and meat. And salsa! So why has this thing been hidden from me? Why haven't I tried one yet? With just a little digging around on the internet, I found plenty of recipes of this delicious Mexican street food that became famous only in Los Angeles. I’m not sure when this happened or how I missed it, but apparently I was too focused on tacos. Mulita is a Spanish word that literally means “little mule,” which I thought was a burrito. On her site La Piña en la Cocina, Sonia Mendez Garcia thinks the food got the name “because they are packed on each side of the tortillas.” They come all different ways because there is no one way to make them. As Mona Holmes learned while traveling around LA to find the perfect mulita, she writes “all are not equal.” Some are birria style, or vegetarian. Some are complex with layers of cheesy goodness, while others more simple. As I’m learning, the mulita is a typical menu staple on taco trucks and authentic restaurants. But I am sure I can make it at home. The ingredients include things you could easily find in my refrigerator. Like my daughter described in her text it’s tortillas: Carne Asada (or chicken, pork, fish, or veggies); Cheese (a good melting cheese like Monterey Jack, Oaxaca, Chihuahua, or even Mozzarella should do); chopped onions and cilantro; and maybe some refried beans and Crèma Mexicana to make it more filling. Knowing me, I’m pretty sure I will add grilled onions and chilis into the mix. Construction of the mulita is key. As Holmes notes it “requires proper balance with a layer of marinated meat, and the right amount of Monterey Jack cheese, while carefully placed between a lightly griddled tortilla. After customizing the spice levels with handmade salsas, the right mulita will maintain its structure after one bite.”
Just writing about mulitas, I am now craving one. I can no longer live vicariously through my daughter, who is lucky enough to live down the street from a taco truck. In my pantry is a five-pound bag of Maseca, a particular flour that is perfect for making homemade tortillas. I think it’s time to open it up and make some homemade tortillas for my homemade mulitas.
Work Cited: acozykitchen.com pinaenlacocina.com maricruzavalos.com la.eater.com The Republic of Ireland is dear to me. It is the country from which my father-in-law came from. And a place I have tried hard to visit but have not been too successful. I can say I’ve been there, because in 2013 I spent about 36 in Dublin. We had made plans to spend a couple of weeks, but that was before I had surgery for throat cancer. When my radiologist found out we cancelled our long-planned trip for treatment, he encouraged us to “Go. Eat, drink, get big and fat because you’re going to lose a lot of weight with radiation.” Then he added, “Plus, you might die. And you want to see Ireland before you die, right?” Since we couldn’t get our money back on the plane tickets, we packed up the kids and headed to Dublin on route to meet my family in Edinburgh. We were there long enough to see the more famous sites. And to enjoy a few pints at the Guinness factory. Certainly not the real mystery and majesty of the moody isle. Seven years later, we booked another trip to visit, this time including a few days in Northern Ireland. If you were paying attention and did the math correctly, you might know why those plans were nixed. Needless to say, I will forever hate the year 2020. In between those two attempts, my dear friend Dawn made extended trips to Ireland with her husband John. It was she who suggested Hore Abbey for us to learn about today. “I first discovered Hore Abbey on March 15, 2006, while standing on the grounds of the Rock of Cashel, on the first trip John and I took to Ireland together.” Standing alone in field tucked away in County Tipperary is an ancient Cistercian monastery, whose name makes anyone giggle. In my research I learned that the name in Gaelic actually means “yew tree” and not what it sounds like in English. Founded in 1266, fragments of this gothic style church still draw people to its gloomy beauty. The ancient limestone stone walls are still in very good shape, considering its age. Through its cracks the local flora and fauna creep around the building, giving it a wonderfully ominous and haunted charm. In her blog, Dawn had this to say, “What is here, however, is most imposing and quite breathtaking. One simply wonders... what must it have been like when it was in heyday and there were flags flying, geese honking, children running about and the faithful about their prayers. It must have been, among other things, VERY loud! We can only imagine. What makes this cruciform (cross-shaped) building unique is that its square cloister and living quarters were positioned at the north of the building (a rarity for its time). Folklore suggests this change was made because its view of the nearby Rock of Cashel. Sometime in the 15th century, a bell tower that also served as a fortification for the Abbey, was constructed at the crossing of the church. I imagine if I were to go there, I’d see what so many luckier travelers have already discovered. According to Askaboutireland.ie that would be, “an excellent illustration of the gracefulness of Gothic architecture.” Here are a few things I learned while visiting that website and not Ireland. Hore Abbey was “the last Cistercian Abbey to be founded in Ireland in medieval times.” Although it was originally built by the Benedictines, they were evicted by Archbishop David McCarvill, “who, in a fit of paranoia, imagined that the Benedictine monks had hatched a plot against him.” This also adds the supposed ghost stories about the place being haunted. As I know firsthand, the Irish love a good story. And this one probably is more folklore than anything else. As numerous sources seem to agree, McCarvill was not a well-liked man. Apparently he “endowed the Abbey generously with land, mills and other benefices previously belonging to the town.” In its hay day, it “laid claim to about 400 acres and, charmingly, ‘a measure of ale out of every brewing’ in the town.” According to Wikipedia, McCarvill had little regard for others in the town. “His disfavor of the established orders in Cashel certainly caused local resentment.” As a Scotsman, I suspect most of that resentment coming from the thirty-eight local brewers who were taxed “two flagons out of every brewing.” Hopefully McCarvill shared some of that brewed bounty with the monks. As the story goes, this number of flagons was chosen to represent the two monks who were murdered while visiting the town.
Special thanks to my dear friend Dawn Carlson who was quick to suggest this amazing place for me to learn about.
Work Cited Askaboutireland.ie source - Finn, "Royal and Saintly Cashel"; Dúchas, "The Rock of Cashel" Wikipedia, Hore Abby. Last year, the pandemic forced me to take a different approach to this social experiment of mine. For example, people knew what I was doing because I had to schedule interviews with them. And those interviews where not in person either. Instead, they were done by video. However I loved doing it this way because it allowed me to meet people from around the world, including two who live just down the road in San Diego and go to the same university my daughter attends. So, this year I went back there, via video to meet Yasmeen. I have met her a few times before, but it was always in large groups and in passing. So, when I heard she wanted to participate in this weir little experiment of mine, I jumped at the chance.
Growing up with two older sisters, Yasmeen split her time between her mom’s and dad’s house. Her dad still lives up there, while her mom and stepmom live in an RV, closer to her in San Diego where she studies political science. Today, she shares a room with my daughter.
I asked her what’s that like to be the youngest kid in the family living with the oldest kid in her family. Well, let’s just say she gushed so well that it made me wonder if my kid was there telling her what to say. While I am enjoying learning about different people, places and things this KNOWvember, it’s really nice to learn more about people I already had a connection to. Sometimes we "know" people without really knowing them. That's part of the reason why I started this in the first place. Case in point, I learned that Yasmeen and I both love creamy peanut butter on our PB&J’s. And we both think soup is not a meal, because it really doesn’t fill you up like a meal ought to. “I only eat soup when I’m sick, because it doesn’t fill you up and make you feel worse.” If she were to eat anything for her last meal it would be an assortment of sushi, followed by her stepmom’s mac and cheese, and strawberry cheesecake for dessert. When I asked her who she could share a meal with, living or dead, she thought about it for a moment then sweetly said, “I’d pick my soul mate. I don’t know who he is yet, but that’s who I’d like to sit at a table and share a meal with.” Come on! That’s the kind of sweetness you get to know when you get to know Yasmeen. And it shows in her smile and eyes. At 5’10” Yasmeen is still no longer a little girl, but a 20-year-old still transitioning into adulthood – with all the challenges that come with it. She is learning to see the world differently and how to navigate it properly. She doesn't always make the right choices, but she tries to always do the right thing. I could have spent the time advising her and guiding her, but as she is discovering herself blazing your own path (as difficult as it can seem) is the best way. Yasmeen has a good heart and a good way of looking at the world. When I asked her what a good deed meant to her she said, “It should be an act where you do something that makes someone better no matter how it makes you feel.” I take her for her word because I learned her go-to lie is, “Telling people I’m too busy when I’m not.” When I asked her what she likes to do with her hands, she said without hesitation, “Type on my phone, type on my computer, and crack my knuckles” (which she did immediately following her answer). And when I asked her what time in history she would choose to go back to live in, without hesitating she said “The 80’s. It seemed like a fun time.” Fun as it was, I’m sure wherever Yasmeen is, fun is bound to happen no matter what year it is. She told me that herself. Answering my question how she hopes to be remembered after leaving a party she said, “I hope they think that person was fun.” Then, for some reason, she just randomly confessed, “I don’t like awkwardness. I get second-hand embarrassment when someone else is feeling awkward. It’s my least favorite thing.” Okay, that was kind of awkward, but I didn’t tell her because it’s her least favorite thing. Another thing Yasmeen does not like is exercise. Like her roommate, my daughter, she begrudgingly does it from time to time, but no longer likes it. I did find it kind of ironic that the last place Yasmeen intentionally walked to (class no included) was to the gym. “And to Halloween parties.” Both of which my daughter, her roommate, did with her. I’m sure there’s a theme somewhere in all this because the one place that Yasmeen has visited but would never, ever go back to was “The Pillbox hike in Hawaii. I loved Hawaii, but I don’t like hiking. And that hike in particular caused me all sorts of anxiety. It wiped me out for the entire day.” It turns out that hiking makes Yasmeen anxious because she believes she will be “attacked by an animal. Or fall. I’m sure that’s how I will die.” I think we all can agree that such a death would not be fun. Although between you and me, it would make for a fun, albeit awkward, story. And I guarantee, out of all the people I have met, Yasmeen would still be smiling and having fun while it happened. Or at least, that’s how I’m going to remember her. People. Places. And Things. That's the hashtag. And that's how the experiment is moving this year. Today, you get a little of both. As for people, I first met Marc and Kaytie while they were putting up Halloween decorations the day before Halloween. The place, the house around the corner from us that they bought just after COVID shut down the world. Their timing was perfect. The owners before them wanted to sell the house immediately and lowered the price considerably to do so. Little did they know the pandemic would cause the housing market to spike upward instead of downward. The thing, well...you have to read a little more about the people and the places I learned about. I didn’t ask, but I suspect they are in their mid-30’s. They are married, and have a dog that doesn’t like people. Her name is Isabella. As I was getting to know them, and Isabella getting to know my dog, I learned Kaytie works in the architecture and design field, and Marc is the creative director for School of Rock music schools. This is important, because as many of you might already know, I need to learn how to play guitar. After 25 years of trying, I could use some proper education. And that is where the thing comes in. It's called the Quad Cortex, and it's an odd piece of musical equipment Marc asked me about. It seemed so intriguing that I had to reach out to Marc to send me a link so I could learn more about it. I will confess right here, right now, that was a bad choice. I’m better getting to know people than machines. As I discovered after researching and watching tutorial videos on YouTube, the Quad Cortex is a very futuristic, highly technical “vulgar display of power” as the company describes it on their website.
Now, you don’t have to be a musician to appreciate what this baby can do. Armed with 50+ preprogrammed amps, over 70 effect peddles, and over 1000 perfectly captured impulse responses, the “Quad Cortex ships with one of the most extensive IR collections on the planet – and it is the only of its kind equipped with virtual microphones that can be positioned around the speaker like in a real studio.” Is that all? No...there’s more. The Quad Cortex can also “capture, share, and download your favorite rig sounds,” which means it can learn and replicate your personal sound set ups thanks to its “unique biomimetic AI technology.” What that basically means is that it uses biomimetic artificial intelligence technology “powered by a unique neural network architecture that is capable of autonomously analyzing, learning, and replicating an amplifier's sound and dynamic response akin to human perception.” This is not some sci-fi invention. This is the future of music where a machine can learn and replicate any amp, pedal or cabinet “with unprecedented accuracy.” But beyond all different algorithms and technical stuff I know nothing about, the Quad Cortex offers different “scenes” which are like feelings you’re trying to capture through sound. For example, I can be chillin’ with a 60’s California vibe one minute then stomp instantly to a crunchy grunge sound from the 90’s. I guess you might say it’s a futuristic time traveling that does basically everything but play my guitar. And there we have the connection. I can’t play my guitar either.
In a text conversation with my friend Matt, a guitar snob of the best kind, I got this: "When it can use AI to fetch me a 1964 AC30 and a Tube Screamer, I might be interested." All in due time, my friend. I will admit I am one of the lucky ones. I have a mom. I have a dad. I have a brother and two sisters. I even have seventeen in-laws, not counting the two who have passed away. I am lucky because I am not without family, and a healthy loving one at that. I count my blessings for the family I have, because I know there are so many people whose families are torn apart by anger or abuse or absence. Others have lost their parents due to some horrific reason or another. And then there are those who were abandoned by no fault of their own. Since their founding in 1998, Acres of Love has held the belief that “Children belong to in families.” Up until this point, I had never heard of this place that raises money to create safe homes for children orphaned or abandoned in South Africa, where currently there are 3-5 million orphans living in all sorts of different situations. Unlike the orphanages we’re used to seeing in movies, Acres of Love is not a dark, grim place that is to set up to shuffle kids through a system. In fact, it’s way different. For one, children live in home, real homes with real people to form a real family to care for them. Second, children are given the tools and resources they need to help them thrive. And lastly, the organization was created to offer unconditional love to children who have been abandoned in one form or another. “We are raising a generation who understands they are a beautiful gift to our family and the world.” Their story and this love can teach us all a little something about who we are, and that is every human being deserves to live and everyone should be given a chance to thrive while doing so. Especially the world’s most vulnerable. At Acres of Love, children are given that chance. “Our commitment to serving the most vulnerable population of children in South Africa is lived out on a daily basis as we continue to welcome children into our Family Homes who are literally struggling to survive. However, Acres of Love is committed to helping the children do more than survive; we help them thrive.” Children with disabilities, HIV/AIDS, Downs Syndrome, paralysis, autism, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, and other diseases such as tuberculosis, cerebral palsy, cancer, or just severe malnutrition, are all given a chance to be part of a family, a community, and a world where they matter. I have a few different friends who struggle daily to raise children with different abilities than the average kid. This is a tough job. One that takes a special person to commit and not merely volunteer. A friend once described it like this, “It’s not a job. It’s love.” Or like Acres of Love states on their website, “Our House Parents view their role as a significant calling, and they are passionate about focusing their lives to love hurting children and walk a slow and steady road toward healing, trust building, and attachment.” Isn’t that something we all ought to be doing? Imagine if everyone made it their mission to walk slowly with the intention to bring healing and restoration to our communities. “When a child enters the doors of an Acres of Love Family Home, they are HOME.” The way I see it, Acres of Love is more than a home. It is hope. Every child they rescue is given the best medical, educational, emotional, and nutritional care to help them live into their best selves. Just think about how different our streets and schools and courthouses might look if only we care like this for all the children in our communities. Imagine if we followed the example of Acres of Love and made it our goal to create self-sufficient adults by preparing them socially and emotionally for the task. Or if we gave all children the skills needed to transition into healthy adults – teaching them how to secure stable job, save money, use a bank account, pay rent, navigate transportation, cook and care for themselves, and to thrive on their own. “Regardless of how our children arrive to our care, they each have a deep hunger to hear that they are loved, that they belong, and that they are worth fighting for...our team works to help our children understand they are fearfully and wonderfully made. And they are loved.” I am a strong believer that where there is love is the most powerful tool we possess. It can and does transform lives and communities every day. Out of such love, we hold the power to make sure the word “orphan” no longer exists. We have the means to make sure every child has someone looking out for them – helping, teaching, and shaping their lives for the better. “While past experiences, trauma, neglect, and abuse will be a part of their story forever, their pasts do not define or limit who they can become. Our desire is to empower them to experience hope and a bright future.” I’m with them. I believe one should be defined or left out because of a trauma they’ve experienced or a situation they had no control over. We were all made in a divine image, and image I call love. And in and out of love we are made and called. I believe it’s in such love that we find who we really are and what we can really do. That is thrive. And when we thrive in love, it doesn’t matter where we are. With love, we are always at home.
Thank you to my friend Mary Prendergast who suggested Acres of Love for this year’s KNOWvember challenge.
Work Cited: www.acresoflove.org borgenproject.org
Today, as I wait for my shipment of coffee beans to arrive I think about all the hands who handle my package to insure that it gets safely to me. The last person is my mailman. That would be Rudy, who started his route on our street in the height of COVID. I have never seen his face, but he always delivers our mail with a smile. Before Rudy we had Do, a quiet older man of Chinese heritage who was around for about a year. Before Do was Rick, literally the best mailman in the world and someone I developed a great, life-long friendship with. There was also Robert who delivered mail to our house in Hollywood. And LeTonya who used to take her lunch break at our apartment complex. As far as I know, I don’t recall any of them delivering a human. All but one of these postal service employees are people of color. People whose history is deeply rooted in stories of slavery, prejudice, and injustice. I have no idea what it’s like to be an enslaved person. But I can imagine I would do whatever it takes to keep the freedom that so many of us take for granted. It’s stories like Henry “Box” Brown that show us how valuable and fragile our freedom is. His story also reminds us that it is a risk worth taking. I had a few questions, perhaps you have some too. For example: How did he do it? According to Wikipedia, “With the help of James C. A. Smith, a free black man, and a sympathetic white shoemaker named Samuel A. Smith (no relation), Brown devised a plan to have himself shipped in a box to a free state by the Adams Express Company, known for its confidentiality and efficiency.” How much does it cost to mail a human? That’s hard to say because it’s not very legal. However Henry “Box” Brown paid Samuel Smith $86 (equivalent to $2,675 in 2020), a little over half of his personal savings he had saved up. How did he get out of work that day on the plantation? Once his escape plan was in place, Brown burnt his hand to the bone with sulfuric acid to get out of work. Now, I’ve done some crazy things to get out of doing something but all have been short of harming myself. Was it really a box? Yes, it was. I am not sure who built it or what it looked like, but according to his own testimony, the box was only 3 x 2.67 x 2 feet. On it’s sides the words "dry goods" was painted. The inside was lined with a coarse woolen cloth called baize. It had only one hole for air to get in. Once Brown was inside (with only a small portion of water and a few biscuits), his friends nailed the box shut and tied with straps. According to Wikipedia, the box was loaded onto a wagon on on March 29, 1849. From there it was placed on a rail car, then a steamboat, another wagon, another railroad, a ferry, yet another railroad, and finally a delivery wagon, being completed in 27 hours. That’s better than Amazon Prime! “Despite the instructions on the box that said "handle with care" and "this side up," several times carriers placed the box upside-down or handled it roughly. Brown remained still and avoided detection.” No one was sure if this method of travel would work. But some time after he was a free man, Brown wrote, "If you have never been deprived of your liberty, as I was, you cannot realize the power of that hope of freedom, which was to me indeed, an anchor to the soul both sure and steadfast."
When Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, which required cooperation from law enforcement officials to capture refugee slaves even in free states, Brown moved to England for his personal safety.
While there, Brown married his second wife (his first along with their three children were sold to other slave owners) Jane Floyd, a white Cornish tin worker's daughter, in 1855 and began a new family. He earned a living as a speaker, and as a magician, using the names "Prof. H. Box Brown" and the "African Prince.” In 1875, he returned with his family to the U.S. with a group magic act. He died in Toronto on June 15, 1897. Work Cited: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Box_Brown |
Ian MacdonaldAn ex-copywriter turned punk rock pastor and peacemaker who dedicates his life to making the world a better place for all humanity. "that they all might be one" ~John 17:21“Prius vita quam doctrina.”
~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) * “Life is more important than doctrine.”
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