I am Stuff/ We Are Stuff: Decrapifying I am an ecologically groovy kind of 67-year-old white middle-class male. By politics, I am a socialist. I believe in free universal health care: housing for all: strict licensing and gun control: free college, a vocational school for all: all corporations pay all of their taxes without deductions: Ending the welfare state for the military-industrial mafia, and that is only start of my platform as the next Presidential candidate for the Socialist Party. As a socialist, I should be a paragon of modesty, though that is not true. Stuff! For these past fifty years, I have, through intention and accident, accumulated a lot of stuff. It is like a purse or a tool bag. The bigger your bag –, the more stuff you have. We have a roomy, comfortable home in Vermont; I have a workshop for home repairs, a large art studio, and a 1,000 s f living space. I also have hundreds of books of all kinds and sizes, medical books from my medical practice, poetry and literature books galore, and even books in Persian, which I don’t read. I like my books. They are my friends, neatly tucked into my bookshelves. But it is all, stuff! Too much wonderful stuff. My closet is filled with shirts and clothes that I have no idea how most of those clothes showed up there – gifts from my wife, friends, and others. I rarely buy new clothes, yet the clothes have just shown up. In my upsizing to the next phase of my life, I need a major de-crapification. My tool and workshop with all my house repair stuff. Drills, saws, hammers, and enough stuff to build a house. There are cans of paints, solvents, cleaners, brushes, and enough stuff for a hardware store. I got an email that there is a gizmo that will scan books and images into a jpeg file. I was about to buy it when I thought – damn! My camera can do the same thing! Why am I so addicted to this stuff binge? I’ve been emptying a huge crate of old letters, cards, and notes from the past fifty years for the past few days. One set of letters is from a girl I was in a philosophy class with. She was the smartest person in the class, but she was quiet and only spoke when she had something important to say. I have our notes and letters from nearly fifty years ago. In the way that people fall in love in their twenties, we were in love and filled with much ardor. I had some of her first philosophy papers. On a whim, I searched the internet and found out that she had become a philosophy professor in Mexico. I was so proud of her for continuing her studies and ordered one of her books. Most of the letters were routine hello and updates, but some were so important at various points in my life. When I was in the Navy and struggling with alcohol and emotional issues, I became friendly with family in Florida, a Navy career man, and his incredibly loving and supportive family. I helped his family while recovering from a heart attack, and they helped support me. I felt the love and care of all the cards and letters, trivial and otherwise. In the years to come, I will open this box of love if I should feel down and blue. Yes, there will be some perfumed letters (yes, they really did exist). The fragrance of the perfume remains. But more significantly, all the love, concern, guidance, support, and insights will lift my spirits. In opening that box of letters in the years to come, I believe it will be like the flood of memories when you smell Bazooka Bubble gum, bringing back all those memories. Or for me, when I was a kid in Seville, every corner pastry shop made its unique pastry. When I was last in Seville, I went to my old neighborhood and bought a tiny powdery anise pastry, and as soon as I tasted it, it brought me back to my childhood. Today, I stacked and arranged the letters and cards and taped the box. It will stay in storage, but those memories are so vibrant. Skipping stones – I spent a half-hour by Blue Heron Pond with two little boys and their dad. We were skipping stones. Is that one of the oldest games? I hadn’t done that in ages. I was playing with these 7 and 8-year-old boys and skipping stones. The beauty of Blue Heron Pond fills my soul with wonder and joy. Blue Heron Pond- it is my soul. Not in hyperbole, but in reality. This magnificent sanctuary in Southern Vermont has fueled my creative work over the past twenty-five years. Sadly, our home has become too big to keep up, and the taxes in Brattleboro keep escalating. Our town has an appetite for an electric Rolls Royce but only a budget for a used Kia. As much as I love this beautiful treasure, we know it is time for the next step and the next third of our lives. At sixty-eight, we could hang on to our home in Vermont, but it is time, and we want to travel more. I need less responsibility, fewer things to own, and more time for my creative work. When I left the Navy fifty years ago, I had a duffle bag of clothes, and that was my worldly possessions. I sometimes hunger for that level of simplicity. When traveling with a suitcase and guitar, I realize that is all I need. The rest of this beautiful stuff and clutter is merely beautiful stuff and clutter. I will probably never have the Thoreau simple life of a cabin on Walden Pond, but I can radically slenderize my life. Serendipitously now, I am losing weight, and in my creative work, I am taking a
Beautiful Extraordinary Africa
We’ve been traveling since late November starting in Nairobi, Kenya, on to the fabled nature preserve of Masa Mara in Western Kenya, on to Tanzania – the Serengeti Nature preserve, Selu River, and to Zanzibar in December. At Christmas and New Year’s Eve in Mozambique visiting one of our dear friends who is the new Peace Corps director. On New Year’s Eve a bunch of people came together for music and drumming, with a huge fireworks explosion over Maputo harbor. Then on to the next two months through Lesotho, Swaziland, and South Africa, more amazing, beautiful, and complex culture than we could had imagined. Our journey thus far of some 10,000 kilometers, that has lead us here to Cape Town, then on to Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Botswana for a week at Victoria Falls. Turkish Airlines had a super cheap deal we could not refuse, the chance to spend 48 hours in Istanbul on our way back to New York. It has been a life-long dream to visit, understand, explore, and be awed by the sights we have seen on the journey so far. The cost? What is the price and value of living one of your life time dreams? In our four month stroll through Africa we’ve been astonished and surprised at every turn. In particular, it is the joy and fun of meeting people from all walks of life from former prisoners of Robben Island in Cape Town, our hosts along the way, the house party where I performed in Johannesburg and met a fabulous fun group of people, the bright and courageous activists in Soweto who are creating art schools for underprivileged kids, and other activists leading cultural tours in the impoverished townships. Musicians of all kind surprised us at every turn. Yesterday, we went along the southern coast near Cape Town and a lovely duo Fusa and Zoe were unexpectedly playing. I gave a concert of classical guitar/ flamenco in Eastern South Africa in Blythe Canyon for people who had never heard this kind of music. This is the pure joy of traveling, allowing the spontaneous surprise to emerge. The most unforgettable moments are watching children going to school, some with their mom, dad, or their older sibling holding their hands. Many of the children came from the impoverished Townships and yet despite the lack of water and basic services the uniforms were spotless. This is the enduring dignity of people that we have met – the poorest people with their hope and vision for a better life for their children. Oh, did I forget to tell you about the wildlife? Our original impetus had been to see the great wildlife migration of Wildebeest, Gazelles, and animals. The kind you see on the National Geographic Channel, but the opportunity to see the great five – rhinos, African buffalo, elephants, lions, and cheetahs… there is a spell binding enchantment as we roamed through the great animal preserves of Masa Mara and the Serengeti. Though we have been to zoos around the world, nothing compares to seeing these beautiful animals in the wild… all manner of gazelles, zebras of all stripes (sorry, couldn’t help myself), antelopes, giraffes, and that is only the tip of the astonishing variety of creatures. It is a veritable Garden of Eden. This was never so much true as seeing Ngorongoro crater, the most pristine valley in Tanzania, and the largest volcanic crater in the world. At sunrise, watching the light over this verdant pristine land gave me the feeling of how the gods first imagined and created the world. All the creature from flamingos, to wildebeest, lions, antelopes, the rare black rhinos, and birds of all kind who swooped above us. We were truly in the Garden of Eden. Too often, in the West, our view of Africa is of incredible poverty, vast slums, and misfortune galore, while that is true to an extent and important to consider in our travels, more vital is the amazing diversity and beauty we found in our journeys. We have been energized to meet, advise, and help people with their local community projects. In particular, young activists who have a ton of dreams and need a wee bit of organizational planning. But the brightest stars on our journey have been all the school children in their uniforms all with their backpacks bursting with possibilities. For us as senior travels, in our mid-sixties, we have our share of aches and pain, but we are vibrantly healthy in our passion and curiosity. We still walk between five to fifteen kilometers a day and we are travel junkies. Though we have visited about 100 countries and counting, we are even more animated and curious about the world. Simply, we could not imagine a life where we did not travel. Our budget is modest, out lodgings simple, and If you’ve ever dreamed of seeing the vast beautiful areas of the Serengeti, the Masa Mara, the bewitching beauty of South Africa’s Wild Coast, the dreamy enchantment of Zanzibar, moonlight over Maputo harbor, to para-glide off the top of Table Mountain and dance hundreds of meter high in the wind, and to know that you have only tasted a tiny bit of this extraordinary enchantment of the world. In the weeks to come we will journey on to Victoria Falls, more of South Africa, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and finally winging home via Istanbul. Come and visit this extraordinary beautiful land and discover this enchanted corner of the globe yourself.
