Bunker Hill Day

Back in 1775 a grip of colonials fought a battle with the British during the siege of Boston. Seems they got wind of the Redcoats planning on setting up shop on some of the low hills around the town - Bunker Hill being one - and decided that denying said hill to the forces of King George might be a good thing. And so they did - for a time, at least; in the end, after the third round, the colonials retreated, but not before putting some hurt to the enemy while keeping their own casualties low.
About 156 years later, the lady in the apron gave birth to a boy child. An ornery sort of fella by some accounts(his Aunt Blanche) who was raised by his mom after she divorced his dad - in 1932! - somewhere in Wisconsin. She met a gent by the name of Lionel G. Reed, who became the little boy's stepdad and moved them out to the west coast. Richard - also known as 'Dick', 'cause you could be called that(and by golly, one of my best friends responds to 'Dickie') - proceeded to grow up some, become an Eagle Scout, fell in love, get in some trouble that landed him in the Army(they made an Airborne Ranger out of 'im), who took him to Korea for a bit, after which he came back, claimed his lady love, and moved on through his life in so many ways it would take too long to describe, especially since I've gone down that path already.
One of those ways turned out to be me.
While childhood with him was chaotic - wherever we lived, it was Dysfunction Junction - the moments of goodness and goofiness were there, too.
Eventually he came to terms with his addiction - somewhat thereafter I with mine - and we proceeded to share the last 9 1/2 years of his life enjoying each others company. I even got to learn a few more things from him along the way, made easier since I was now in my mid-thirties and more receptive.
He knew, as did I, that he was on borrowed time. He lived it with honor and did the best he could -Thanks Bill W and Dr. Bob! - and passed a few months before his 69th. Too soon, too sudden - at least for us left behind; but he was with my mom, travellin' and havin himself a time, and that was the happiest I'd seen him - he was with the Love of his life, after all.
His old pals and I have waxed nostalgic over the years since, about his honor and integrity, sure - but mostly about his sense of humor. Gods, he was crazy. Usually the only hint would be a twinkle in his eye and a slightly crooked grin - no other hint of the treasure trove of awful puns and plays-on-words that he could bring to bear on an unsuspecting victim. More simply, he was just plain fun, and a professional wiseacre.
He'd regularly remind me of what today is - usually ahead of time, and only the Bunker Hill part(as if, after many years of it, I'd actually need reminding) - but that twinkle was there...
Happy Birthday, Pa.

Hey Mr. B - "Are Ya Ready For What's Next?"

Time to digress from spiritual/political musings(rantings? heh.).
The last couple of years one of my best friends - Mr. B - and I have been jumpin' on the highways and byways out West so we can touch base with the brothers we have that are scattered around various states, and this year is no exception. A little change in direction this time, though: we'll head more east than north on the first leg of the trip.
About 1200 miles east. We're not gonna try to Ironbutt it exactly, but the plan is to arrive somewhere southeast of Topeka by the evening of Sunday July 3rd - after leaving our toasty desert home sometime in the wee hours of July 2nd. The idea being, spend the 4th with another of my best friends and a grip of his bros for a festive 4th. I haven't seen him for a few years, and I'm wondering if I'll recognize him with short hair(snort) - of course he could say the same of me, with my considerably grayer, longer hair. My finely chiseled features have, of course, uh- never mind.
After spending a couple of days there, we'll turn our wheels west. Roll into Colorado for a night, turn north again at the Rockies the next day and into Wyoming, ultimately to wind up in Yellowstone after visiting my ridin' Bro's family. We'll scare the tourists for a day or two and then roll west again into Idaho, play around in the vicinity of the Sawtooth Range - where you can see things like this:








...the things being the mountains, not the Things in jackets - but they're pretty cool Things too, if I may say so.
I promised a longer visit this year, so we'll be in ID for several days. I really enjoy the open country up that way. I'm looking forward to some long conversations with my pals, too.
We'll turn south after that, go down into Utah and hang with another of our bros for a few days. Goes without saying(almost, anyway) that we won't be spending too much time sitting still - too many miles of side roads to unwind while we're visiting - which is what our bros expect of us, since they always have rides to take us on, places to show us. Eventually we'll wander back to the blast-furnace of home, to return to our girls and our bros, to regale them with tales and pics from the Road.
We wouldn't have it any other way. (Well - unless we could get paid the same for ridin' all over hell's half-acre as we do for workin' the regular job...)

Far Between And Few - And A Re-Visitation

In time I return here, look over old posts and attempt to spew forth new. Not as often as I'd like, but I'll be damned if I'll just post a bunch of fluff, signifying nothing...
I was surfing a few days ago and landed at one of my faves, American Digest. Scrolling down I noted a post wherein Vanderlun dropped a tidbit about the section of enviro-nutz labeled as Gaians, and how, according to another writer, these folks have infiltrated high levels of government. Leaving that aside, it was some of the comments that disturbed me. I ended up commenting on the post and suggesting that, for some of the folks in the conservative movement,a little enlightenment was in order, and referenced a previous post here.
I have no issue with folks having their opinions. What I have an issue with is opinionated folks lumping pagans of all stripes into one bag, implying that if we're not christians, we're all enemies of the Republic as it was established by the Founders.
There was even one comment suggesting we should be sacrificed to Gaia.
Excuse me?
Where in the Constitution is a Qualifying Religion Requirement for being a citizen, much less a Patriot? I must have overlooked it!
This junk is spewed forth by the very folks who make such a stink about the intolerance of the lefties. Not only that - I'm gonna whip out a little somethin' from the, uh, so-called right side of the fence - yuck - seems to me that there's an organization out there which stands close to the funerals of our soldiers with nasty signs about how "God Hates.." Get the picture? Should I be like the commenters, lump all you followers of the Teacher from Nazareth with the Phelpsians?
The reality is, unlike you, I won't. I know too many folks, some in my own family, who aren't like that, and don't deserve to be tarred with the same brush.
To the rest of you I say, do a little homework. Read a post or two by people who are of a similar mindset to me. We're around, you see. Some of us hesitate to put our spirituality out for others to see, for the very reasons I've attempted to define.
I know that, for my part, there is no small fear that the majority of our fellow citizens will content themselves to sit on their hands while fools and the politicians who use them spew Marx/Alinsky garbage as they attempt to crush this country into their very own swamp of socialistic excrement. Can we pull it back from the brink? I can guarantee you this: if the mindset of "You-can't-be-a-conservative-if-you-ain't-got-Jesus" persists, people like that punk-ass Ayers and his pals will be laughing at us while we collapse and fail due to our own infighting.
Gods help us...

Echoes

In the past I've been a prolific writer. I am able to turn out paragraph upon paragraph about things I feel strongly about. Writing, for me, is a form of confirmation: "This is how I see it", or, "This is how I feel it". In this era of being able to put one's thoughts out there for anybody with an Internet connection to see, you'd best be sure if that's A), what you really meant to say, and B), what you want to be seen! (As in publishing, in whatever form it may take.)
With me, there's sometimes a "C)".
C) as in, this is from my heart to the page, and if I write it, then I see it. It's confirmed.
Writing, for me, is a powerful tool. When my Pa was educating me about the tools for survival as a recovering addict, he made it clear that the act of writing - about thoughts, obsessions, feelings - was right up there in my front line of defense. To paraphrase him, by writing about something that was "bugging" me (to put it mildly), I could remove a lot of power from that issue, obsession or feeling - the negative power that I could possibly act out on in ways that wouldn't be good for me (in the long term) or someone else (in the short term). He learned this and other useful things on his Path after he found A.A., and when it was my turn to ask, he gave me the knowledge, as others did before him. It's worked for me very well indeed.
There can be a hard part to it. A painful part.
I have to be honest in what I write. Not a big deal, I like being the way I am, and I can only remain so by staying honest with myself, my Higher Powers and others. This can be painful sometimes as it means I must confront how I feel, as Life On Life's Terms ain't always Sweetness and Light. Certainly not before I cleaned up my act. There was a lot of flotsam left in my wake, which I've attempted to take care of along the way, since; part of the deal.
But the echoes of my actions sometimes return.
I learned quite a while ago that while the actions of others - my Pa, for instance - had an impact on me, the decisions I make are mine and mine alone. Certainly growing up in my father's house had an influence on my behaviors, but I'm no robot: I've made, and still make, decisions based on my knowledge and feelings.
The decisions haven't always been good ones, either! Do I credit my independent thinking for the good ones and blame somebody else for the bad ones?
Nope. I take full responsibility for all the decisions I've made.

The Learning Curve - Are You On It?

As I was perusing the blogs I normally check on in the A.M. while drinking my coffee, I noticed something that pops up often. The idea, or opinion, or meme perhaps, that people who identify themselves as pagan - non-christian - are all Gaia-worshipping veggie collectivists bent on forcing AGW policy upon everyone. And they smell like patchouli, too!
What is the matter with you folks?
How would you feel if I lumped all christians into the same bucket as Jim Jones, or Jimmy Swaggart? Would you take issue with that? Oh, and don't forget the guy who murdered the abortion doc, right? He was on a mission from your god - so he thought.
"Politics makes strange bedfellows." Don't it just? Why do some conservatives believe that only people who follow the Path of the carpenter from Nazarene, understand and appreciate what the Constitution means?
Let me give you a little background on me. A conservative pagan.
The son of an engineer/Airborne Ranger/blackjack player. Not a college grad, but a student, while in college, of physical sciences and math; several fields of geology being my favorites, with study of physics - quantum mechanics, especially - being one of my ongoing passions. I love understanding how things work, and the pursuit of knowledge.
Being the inquisitive sort, I was not content to remain silent in the church of my parents, instead choosing to ask questions. That never went off very well. Eventually I settled on a non-christian Path - having been introduced to it as a teenager.I didn't fall right in, hook, line and sinker; As I said, I am an asker of questions, and I choose not to be blind. I've read various authors of philosophy, both left-wingers and right-wingers. My take on things in general, at least regarding people and the things they believe, is that there are always three sides to the story.
Yes, I love the planet. My home.
I try to live in a way that reduces my impact: I recycle the oil from my Jeep, the wife's car, and my bike instead of pouring it on the dirt or down the storm drain. I recycle metal, paper, plastics and glass. I don't take my yard waste or used appliances off the road to dump - I take the yard waste to a landfill and the used appliances go to Goodwill. When I trim my trees I till the small stuff back into the yard and use the larger stuff for my patio pot bellied chimney or campfires.
I love to hunt. . For meat, antlers, and skin, where and when I can. I eat what I kill, and I avoid wasting anything that can be used. I know how to find my way in the wilderness. I know how to live in the wilderness. I also see the wilderness as a Cathedral unmatched by anything humans have ever made. I perceive my God and Goddess in all of nature.
Do I hug trees? I've been known to lean against them, to quiet my spirit and consider/feel the long, slow life of them. I've also been known to use them for firewood, which I still do. Does that mean I don't care about them? Hardly. Why would that be? I'm a desert rat. I've lived in the northern part of the Sonoran Desert most of my life, and my adventures have taken me into the Mohave, and the Painted Desert as well.
I'll tell you why: live in a place where trees are fewer and farther between, and you gain an appreciation for a forest, whether it be redwoods in northern Cal, oaks in southeast Missouri or the pine forests on the Mogollon Rim. Hearing the wind whispering in them at night, watching them dance in an afternoon storm... sweet.
Yeah, I love trees. Look over the aftermath of a forest fire and see if you don't feel grief of sorts for what you likely won't see again for many decades, if at all.
Is it possible for you to relate to me yet?
Unlike some, I do not separate humankind from the earth. I know that everything we do can have local effects; refer back to the oil recycling I do. I think of myself as a responsible steward, in my own small way, of what the earth offers me. I want my three sons and their children to be able to see some of what I've seen, go the places I've gone and more - and not find them overrun and trashed, like the Buenos Aires Wildlife Conservation Area down by Arivaca, AZ. The effects of illegal immigration at its finest. You don't hear too many of the self-professed Gaians raising hell about that, do ya?
So back, in a roundabout way, to where this began: the perception, on the part of many, that if you declare yourself a pagan, you must be a tree-hugging patchouli-wearing anti-meat-eating AGW-believing... dear me. There are a lot of us who are, simply put, common-sense oriented. That means we tend to lean towards policies and practices that you usually don't see put forward by some wild-eyed fanatic - no matter what kind of fanatic they might be.
I cherish what the Founders put forward, what they began so many years ago. I value the Constitution and the Bill of Rights as they are written. I do NOT consider them 'living documents', the meaning of which can be re-interpreted every other decade according to the whims of the Congress or the Supreme Court. I despise what our current congress is trying to do to us - but what I despise equally is the apathy many of my fellow citizens have shown in not participating in their future, and indeed the future of this nation. Because, ladies & gents, nothing else has brought us to this place. We've allowed the servants to try to be the rulers. It is time to change that.
But it'll be damned hard to do if you try to define us by our spiritual Paths. If you believe that only christians are conservatives, you're no better off than the folks on the left side of things who spew their hatred of people who don't share their ideologies. Narrow-minded losers.
Expand your mind a little and embrace the idea that I, and people like me, are very much like you in many ways. If you alienate us because of our beliefs, what do you gain?

I knew a pretty lady, a long time ago, who wore patchouli. Any time I get a whiff of it I think of her and smile. She smelled good... I've loved that smell ever since.

Does that make me less of a Patriot in your eyes?