September 09, 2005

Visiting the Dream Center

i stopped at target late this afternoon and picked up quite a load of diapers, baby powder and baby oil. since it was right in the middle of rush hour, i took surface streets to the center. it's still abuzz with activity. they have more than enough clothing for adults. the need is baby things: clothes, wipes, diapers, powder, etc. the lady told me there are 200 families being housed. the radio says 100. anyway, i asked what one can do to meet the folks. she gave a big smile and said, "come to church." what i learned is that the newly arrived will attend service with the host folks of dream center. services are thursday evenings at 7pm and sunday at 10am. location: angelus temple in echo park. you may recall that's the headquarters for the foursquare international church founded by amee semple mac pherson............

from there i went to lacma and caught part of a free friday night jazz set. nice change of pace. then to popeye's at la brea and jeffereson and then to the pad.

now, tis time for some shakespearean reading and then, early zonk tiempo.

Posted by mbowen at 10:00 PM | Comments (0)

September 03, 2005

Katrina Update

for all intents and purposes, the guys at this morning's men's club
meeting all wanted to talk about hurricane relief. we voted to send $2000
-- most likely through the Episcopal relief and development fund. we'll
also make an effort to gather clothing items during the coming week. i'll
make an announcement during tomorrow's service challenging other parish
organizations to do something as well.

i mentioned that i would be going to smart and final this afternoon to get
some diapers and other goods. one member (who is on less than a fixed
retirement income) gave me $10.00 cash and another wrote a check to me for
$100.00. from church i went to the KRST unity center at 78th place and
western and introduced myself to the women in charge. they told me a
truck had left earlier in the day to pick up stuff from some other sites.
another truck will be back early in the week for another pick up. if i
don't get back there today, i'll certainly do so tomorrow.

will keep u posted.

(talked to sylvia this morning.)

[i heard that cuba has offered to send medical
personnel...........hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Posted by mbowen at 01:59 PM | Comments (0)

September 01, 2005

Katrina…It’s a Black Thing

For more reasons than I will explore here, I hate the fact that this country is fighting a losing war in Iraq. America never should have mounted the invasion (Yes…Bush lied then and now his mendacity of yesterday is overshadowed only by his contemporary utter stupidity. That’s another story for another time.) One of the things I have reflected on over these seemingly endless months of military misadventures is what it must be like to live in a place like Baghdad, a city under siege. And when the tsunami hit Indonesia I wondered about the power and unforgiving “nature of nature.” Now, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and parts of Florida are experiencing unprecedented disaster as a direct result of Hurricane Katrina. (On an irrelevant, I have only met 2 females with that name. Both were very gentle women to a fault. So much for a name.) Although I have backed away from much of my 60s and 70s thinking about race in general and Black people in particular, I have never moved away from my horror over the ever-downward spiralling nature of poverty as a tenacious reality and destitute human beings…of every color and kind.

Because my television viewing is less than minimal (if that’s possible) I initially received what I learned about the storm via radio, the newspaper and the internet. All the time I knew that the stores about misery, dislocation, isolation, etc. were unquestionably the stories of Black people. One reporter said that being in New Orleans was like being in a Third World country! How ironically and unintentionally accurate. Looking at photos of people wading through varying levels of water was exactly like seeing pictures of African villages. Sparse belonging, empty expressions, confusion…hopefulness, anticipation all combined.

When I first heard about the looting, my reaction was automatic and typically American: “Oh, that’s terrible!” And I remain convinced that looting ain’t cool, but “terrible?” Once again it daughter Debbie to the rescue. Without extending a stamp of approval, she queried, “What would we do [under those circumstances]?” No money, no credit card, no food. Oh, I certainly know what the moralists would intone about right being right and wrong being wrong no matter what. But when those proclamations are touted one is probably warm, well fed and most likely gainfully employed. One is not scrambling around in the midst of unprecedented chaos. Again, another story. BUT…shooting at helicopters deployed to rescue people from the Astrodome? That’s not revolutionary or frustration-initiated or evening an score from historical misuse, abuse or slavery. That is just plain STUPID. (Yes, Mr. President, you do indeed have Black counterparts! Even if humans aren’t created equal, they get that way after a while.)

But there’s another dimension here. It has to do with something I’ve been thinking about recently having to do with Black male leadership. Or Black men in general. The facts speak for themselves so I note simply: P. Diddy now simply (a fitting word) wants to be know as Diddy; Jesse is in Venezuela noting that the President should condemn (ever-foolish) Pat Robertson; local Nation of Islam leader Tony Muhammad tells an L.A. cop, “Make me!” and although we still don’t have all of the so-called fact, got his butt whipped; and Ludacris continues “Pimpin’ All Over the World.” Whew! Yielding to a tendency to ask the wrong question, I ask, where are the outcries to do something positive?…like mount a campaign to send money or organize a caravan or send food or clothing to those whose total existence has been uprooted by mindless Katrina? All storms are that way. Why no Black politicians, religious leaders, civic mouthpieces, ad nauseum taking the lead, filling the void? Where is the real leadership when it is so desperately needed? The answer is an easy one: Waiting on the sidelines for white folks to mess up! Waiting for white folks to “Make me!”

I always entertain the prospect that there is something wrong with my own picture – the one that I see or the one that I draw; that I am missing something or, seeing all that needs to be seen, that I place an emphasis where it doesn’t belong. Could be. In the meantime I pray for those who are in those unbelievably water-logged places. Yes, and I likewise pray for the shooters and the looters too albeit that the shooters should be jailed with all deliberate haste.

Finally, I still my own restless soul at times like this by doing another thing I have no reluctance to do: SEND MONEY! I’ve written checks for the Episcopal Relief and Development Fund and the Red Cross. And when I do a closer-to home family financial thing, I’ll gulp down a Colt 45!

Life is unpredictable, often (as now) tragic; but ever…good.

Cheers, beers, fewer fears (Guess who’s still in charge?)

Posted by mbowen at 11:18 AM | Comments (0)

August 30, 2005

Me ‘n’ Brock Peters

“But above all, to thine own self be true.” (Polonius to his son, Laertes, in Shakespeare’s Hamlet ~

No…I did not know Brock Peters. And I don’t recall the details of any of the movies in which he played. I distinctly remember what he looked like and, most of all, that resounding voice. I imagine him singing…..somewhere. When I heard that his memorial service would be held at St. John’s, I decided to attend…for no special reason other than my sense that the occasion would be “big” and some occasions of a certain magnitude beckon me. I was well rewarded by being there. But let me back up a bit.

That morning started off as a regular one. Nothing special, nothing disconcerting. Then I picked up the L.A. Times (an early morning ritual and, in this case, a mistake of sorts). In the California section, there was an article (with assorted pictures) on the street confrontation between Nation of Islam’s local leader, Tony Muhammad, a crowd of angry black folks and LAPD. Minister Muhammad was allegedly punched and kicked by the police, and subsequently busted for assault or something along those lines. Prior to everyone’s arrival, there had been a gang shooting and one man was killed and another wounded. The crowd had gotten worked up (interestingly not because of the shooting) because they felt the man had moved after lying there and that the paramedics could have done more to save his life….or something like that.

This whole “mess” quite unexpectedly got real close to me. It was all like another grand urban drama. Neighborhood madness (aka homicide), cops, anger, confrontation, allegations and counter allegations, press conferences, investigations...etc. Very simply and immediately I said to myself, “I am sick and tired of what happens in this city. I am ready to leave!” And I wasn’t kidding. The only places that came to mind were (oddly?) Seattle and/or “anyplace in New England.” I didn’t care who was right or wrong in the confrontation, I was just mentally tired of the locked-in or locked down pattern of community death, destruction and delusion. All too regular, all too predictable. I might even guess that by the time I finish this piece (which won’t be today) someone else will have been beaten or butchered.

My failure in this instance is no different from what it has been all too often: I foolishly look for the interjection (intervention!!) of reason and some semblance of community logic. No, I have never nor will I ever be an apologist for rogue cops. Contrary to the views of many, they are out there looking for (make that initiating) confrontations, assaulting folks, plotting “evidence” and being as “disruptive and extra-legal” as the people they are suppose to “go after.” What I am talking about it the sad pattern that nobody wants to address: the fact that one black male knuckleheaded shot and killed either an other black male knucklehead or some non knucklehead!! That’s the heart of the matter for me. And that in and of itself is what dramatically initiated the Los Angeles Exit Option. I wasn’t shocked; I was totally pissed! And even though there was no truly fixed destination, what I was sure of was that the price of gas would be just as outrageous. That brought a welcome smile. I knew there wouldn’t be as much driving as Los Angeles demands. Partial relief in that regard.

Then, a little later in the morning, I headed for church. Again, I had to smile because although I got there 40 minutes before the beginning of the service, I had to go 5 blocks south on Flower Street to find a parking space. So be it. The service helped in an unexpected way. I was quickly reassured that there were other things happening in Los Angeles other than the shoot ‘em ups and other forms of endless, ceaseless, mindless violence. And although I have never been star-struck, there were men and women who made good of their lives by pursuing the arts (and entertainment) and saw enough in that to at least appear to be overwhelmingly positive. Their focus for those 2 ½ hours was to honor a fellow artisan. What they did didn’t make this city any less chaotic. There remains meanness in the streets and behind closed doors; but it gave me the needed reminder that it is possible, albeit not always easy, to be in the presence of men and women who take themselves and their attendant “issues” off the stage of life long enough for the literal and symbolic spotlight to be on someone else. Hollywood folks who moved well away from center stage.

Years ago, Dietrich Bonhoeffer called Jesus the “man for others.” I’d expand that to say I was fortunate—make that blessed -- to be in the presence of “men and women for another.”

That’s what it was all about and that, bar nothing, made my day.

Posted by mbowen at 10:30 PM | Comments (0)

August 28, 2005

Stolen From Dad's Drawer

I am secretly publishing my father's missives as Pundad. You have to understand that he doesn't own cable or a cell phone. He's on a different plane than the rest of us. I have decided to do this because I can't keep track of his stuff any other way and I don't want to have to go sorting through it after he's gone. So I take on this burden until I think he is ready to.. which probably wont be for another 5 or six years.

This will be the second time I've done this. The first was called 'Down Front'. You see, about three times a year, Pops comes up with a new publication and sends it to us. He's a very creative thinker, and well, you'll see for yourself.

I'll start backdating posts that I have archived in Google Mail. It'll take a while, but I think it will be worth it.

Posted by mbowen at 09:52 AM | Comments (0)

August 27, 2005

Me ‘n’ the Mountains

Reminder: The “Me ‘n’…” writings have to do with personal experiences… something I am not accustomed to writing about, but look forward to sharing.

Most life experiences have a history, a point of beginning. And many of those beginnings are rooted in childhood experiences. In this particular instance I am lucky enough to be able to pinpoint my (nothing short of) passion for mountains. The place is New Haven and the mountainous place within that urban space was no less a giant than West Rock located oddly enough at the western edge of the city. Living in McConaughy Terrace housing project put me (the family!) pretty much at the base of the mountain. It could be seen form the apartment, and without the dilly dallying that young folks invariably do when going anywhere, the closest trail could be reached in 20 minutes. Most of the time I went with others (brother and/or friends) but being too young and foolish to harbour fear, I sometimes went alone.

The path/trail was a totally familiar one so there was no sound reason to think I was exploring new territory. Yet that is exactly what I felt every time. The very thought of “onward and upward” had a magical ring to it. If I wasn’t an explorer, then I sure as heck was a pioneer! And I didn’t quibble over whatever difference there might be between these words. Whatever the label, I certainly wasn’t just another project kid going where he had no business. In an unspoken yet real sense, I had claimed West Rock. It was inarguably my mountain. These many years later there are only two distinct spots at the top of West Rock that I vividly remember. One was the vista – a point from which much of New Haven could be seen. No massive skyscrapers dotted the skyline but Yale Bowl and the waters where the university’s crew team practiced could readily be singled out. From another less dramatic spot, I could see “all the way to” West Rock’s cross town mountainous relative, East Rock. I recall being told that East Rock was taller. So be it. “Tall” was not enough of an attraction to cause me to switch allegiance. East Rock was in East Haven and that was not a familiar place to me. East Haven only meant Lighthouse Point and lots of Italians. And that was that. (We only went to Lighthouse – as we simplified the designation -- in the summer; and there were plenty of Italians in the project and even more less than a mile away in Woodbridge….so like what was the big deal about East Rock? Besides, somebody had already claimed my rock and had no need for another one! To be at the vista, however, was more significant than just having a good view of the city. It was literally to be at the very edge of unimagined danger! The drop was steep, sudden and unforgiving. I would often lean over as far as I would and could and imagine myself to be tempting fate whatever that might have meant at the time. I equally (and foolishly) imagined myself slipping and falling only, at the last desperate moment grabbing a solitary branch heroically sticking out of the side of my unforgiving mountain. Whew, an endless stream of childhood close calls. I often dreamed about this same scenario, even as an adult.

The second spot, a short distance from the vista was historic Judges Cave. I don’t want to do a history number here. I’ll let it go with saying that Messieurs, Whalley and Goffe (aka regicides) successfully hid from the British troops who were tracking them down for their role in the condemning to death English King Charles I in 1649. Long before I knew or cared anything about its history, Judges Cave was the ultimate location for hide and seek and small mountain climbing atop my bigger mountain. That was the full extent of its utility in those early years. Nothing more was sought or required. ~ The mountain love and fascination has remained unabated these many years later. I think it was daughter, Debbie, who recently labelled it a “fever” and who am I to argue with a young, intelligent daughter? (And she’s pretty, too) Interestingly enough, I now find myself not at all concerned with the most fitting word to describe the power of the attraction. An attitude ‘bout the altitude? What I do know is that I am not in the mountains as often as I’d like to be and when I am there, I feel much better than I do in countless other places. So, having trekked to Mount Whitney’s summit 4 times and, but for the badly swollen ankle of my (absolutely no gender-slammin’ intended) female hiking partner, 5 times. There is indeed a straight line between West Rock and the High Sierras.

Closer to home there is Angeles National Forest and the scenic San Gabriel Mountains. I leave it to those who devote their lives or professions to recording the wonders of mountain ranges in general and the San Gabes in particular to provide appealing and informative details. My more immediate personal leaning is to “frequent them frequently and enjoy them immensely. As I sit (initially in L.A. County’s sprawling Kenneth Hahn Park) putting these thoughts together I think about the San Bernardino Mountains – perhaps a 2 hour drive from home. But when I think about that same mountain range, I invariably think about Big Bear and Arrowhead and hotels and shops (even malls) and cabins and hundreds even thousands of people. Caveat: The mountains most assuredly belong to everyone as well they should. There is an awesome quality about the San Bernardino Mountains, the eastern cousin of the San Gabes. But I see an interesting parallel. Like East Rock they are “too far” from where I live. And that diminishes their appeal. Yes, I recognize a contradiction here. The contradiction has to do with distance. An unrushed trip to the High Sierras takes about 4 hours. Yet the town of Lone Pine at Whitney’s “base” has a distinct small western town feel about it; and that makes a difference. The “town” below the road to Big Bear/Arrowhead is Redlands, a still growing city.

Big Bear and Arrowhead are intended to draw the masses from the cities – Riverside, San Bernardino, and, most definitely Los Angeles. So, everybody heads there. But when everyone is in the mountains, I need not be there. For me, it’s that simple

Interestingly, I am “trapped” in a desire to share those life experiences that have been good to me. So, in this instance, I am always trying to talk family and friends and people I don’t know that well to head for the mountains. As a social worker in the 60s I corralled the social workers in the unit I supervised to join me for San Gabes treks. We easily convinced a numbers of recipient mothers to let us bring their children along. And some 30 years later I formed a small cadre of Antioch colleagues (when we were still at Marina del Rey) to likewise “head for the hills.” Unapologetic about my enthusiasm, I convinced another set of Antioch folks to do the same just last Sunday morning. (I went to the early service at St. John’s.) We ended up with 15 women, men and children in varying states of bodily readiness. For reasons others would be more adept at explaining, I always have an easier time convincing women to come along than is the case with men, I am totally open to having as many dudes as might be interested; but they aren’t. Like a number of other things, that really used to bother me. I looked long and hard for some reasonable explanation. I don’t do that any more…at all. I “indiscriminately” put out the “Y’all come” word and without a touch of anticipatory anxiety, I wait and see what will happen. If folks bite, I am pleased because I am very sure they will enjoy the experience. If, for whatever reason, they choose not to come along, I shrug and…load up my backpack anyway. Life is grand and short in that order. I have been at those wonderful altitudes with the curious, the cautious and the committed and…alone.

Part of the enduring wonder and majesty of mountains is, like the blues, they don’t care who’s “got” ‘em.

Posted by mbowen at 06:02 PM | Comments (0)

August 25, 2005

Generations Locked Down

Dear Friend, this Saturday, August 27, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., we are inviting
all of you to come to the Southern California Library for a powerful
event, "Generations Locked Down: The Impact of Prison on a Community." At
the heart of the event is for all of us who have experienced the impacts
of incarceration, whether directly or through a family member or loved
one, to come and share our stories in a safe environment and to bring
items documenting this experience. Those who haven't experienced
incarceration are invited to come and "listen for a change." There will be
Afro-Cuban drumming, an art exhibit, and refreshments.

We are asking for letters, cards, pictures, state-issued gear, and other
items. The items can be scanned/copied and returned to you or else donated
to become part of the Library's permanent collection. The collection is
important because it will enable us to tell the real story, the human
story behind the incarceration statistics.

More details on the event are below or you can go to our website:
www.socallib.org . You can also hear a piece by Talk of the City host
Kitty Felde on this event and the broader issue by going to our website or
clicking on this link:

http://www.publicradio.org/tools/media/player/kpcc/news/shows/totc/2005/08/20050825_totc?start=00:20:15&end=00:49:26

Let us all work together to end the injustice of the criminal justice
system.

Michele


Michele Welsing
Communications Director
Southern California Library
mwelsing@socallib.org
323-759-6063 (ph)
www.socallib.org

Working for a world where all people have the abilities, resources, and
freedom to make their own histories

____________________________________________
GENERATIONS LOCKED DOWN:
THE IMPACTS OF PRISON ON A COMMUNITY
____________________________________________


Formerly Incarcerated People and Family Members Share Their Stories

SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 2005
10 A.M. TO 2 P.M.

@The Southern California Library
6120 S. Vermont Avenue, Los Angeles

(323) 759-6063
www.socallib.org


_________________________________________________________________________


Join us on Saturday, August 27, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at the Library as
formerly incarcerated people and their family members share their stories
and related materials in a safe environment. There will be:

Community Story Circles * Collection Day * ISLA Percussion Group featuring
Afro-Cuban Drumming * Art Exhibit

We will be collecting prison-related items that can be scanned/copied and
returned or donated to the Library's permanent collection. PLEASE BRING
YOUR: Pictures, Letters, State-Issued Gear, Prison IDs, Prison Catalogs,
and More.

This event is FREE. Refreshments will be offered. Families welcome;
childcare available.

FOR MORE INFORMATION: www.socallib.org * (323) 759-6063

Posted by mbowen at 06:07 PM | Comments (0)

August 24, 2005

Lynch Reasons

Table 2-5. The Reasons Given for Black Lynchings
· Acting suspiciously
· Gambling
· Quarreling
· Adultery
· Grave robbing
· Race hatred; Race troubles
· Aiding murderer
· Improper with white woman
· Rape
· Arguing with white man
· Incest
· Rape-murders
· Arson Inciting to riot
· Resisting mob
· Assassination
· Inciting trouble
· Robbery
· Attempted murder
· Indolence
· Running a bordello
· Banditry
· Inflammatory language
· Sedition
· Being disreputable
· Informing
· Slander
· Being obnoxious
· Injuring livestock
· Spreading disease
· Boasting about riot
· Insulting white man
· Stealing
· Burglary
· Insulting white woman
· Suing white man
· Child abuse
· Insurrection
· Swindling
· Conjuring
· Kidnapping
· Terrorism
· Courting white woman
· Killing livestock
· Testifying against white man
· Criminal assault
· Living with white woman
· Throwing stones
· Cutting levee
· Looting
· Train wrecking
· Defending rapist
· Making threats
· Trying to colonize blacks
· Demanding respect
· Miscegenation
· Trying to vote
· Disorderly conduct
· Mistaken identity
· Unpopularity
· Eloping with white woman
· Molestation
· Unruly remarks
· Entered white woman's room
· Murder
· Using obscene language
· Enticement
· Non-sexual assault
· Vagrancy
· Extortion
· Peeping Tom
· Violated quarantine
· Fraud
· Pillage
· Voodooism
· Plotting to kill
· Voting for wrong party
· Frightening white woman
· Poisoning well

Posted by mbowen at 06:08 PM | Comments (0)

August 20, 2005

Coming To Grips

The “new” writing (which I anticipate will be intensive, extensive, incisive and voluminous) will have 3 major categories and one “also ran”: ·

Considering all the writings I’ve done up to this point, it’s hard for me to be so consciously reductive, but right now that is the way it stands. Unless or until I decide on another title, the overall, all inclusive phrase for the writing is Coming to Grips. Not very sexy, but sufficient.. It’ll all be revealing…and fun.

Caveat: I have promised myself to be as regular as possible. But I have set no deadlines or hardcore pattern. To say I will sit at the computer and write “every morning from 6am til 7am” sounds great because right now it’s a sunny 5pm! Further, to say I’ll have something to share every Tuesday, for example, likewise avoids another hard-learned reality. So…..I won’t commit to that either. What I do know is that I have more ideas, impressions, and reflections in my mind than I do on paper; and I really want to close that gap considerably.

Let me start with something of an explanation of the title: What seems like a thousand years ago (though it certainly wasn’t) I heard something to this philosophical effect: during the first 5 years of our lives we develop a point of view. For the rest of our lives we defend it! Like most aphorisms, it is short, sweet (cute?) and is not devoid of some modicum of truth. I just have a problem with the number. It seems to me that the “process” of even having a point of view is an evolutionary one. And like all things evolutionary, there is no “end” except in the generally understood sense, i.e., we die. Zappo. All over and done.

So, for me anyway, Coming to Grips is an examination of who or what I am at this point of my life and the intersecting point with other people. That’s it.

The exploration intrigues me because I have changed in more ways than I could or would have speculated. That truth in summed up with this: “Things” that at one earlier point (in time) were important or even critical no longer are. They have either moved (been moved by me!) to a lower standing on the list or have been eliminated from the list altogether. Conversely, stuff that wasn’t on that same list or were at a lowly point have found themselves well within the range of “worthy of serious consideration and/or action.” It’s like the reversal we witness when the hourglass is inverted. [Aside: I wasn’t thinking biblically when I started this reflection but I am immediately reminded of the “first shall be last and the last…first” passage…….although I wasn’t confining my first/last thoughts to people.

Here’s a brief explanation of the categories I am setting out to fill:

· Me ‘n’ – that’s short for “Me and…” whomever or whatever I write about. It’s that up close and personal approach. There is no “distance” between the subject (a person, place or thing) and me. I’m looking forward to these writings because, for whatever reasons, they are the kinds I’ve traditionally steered clear of.

· Idle musings – That’s a heading given to me and for what I thought were good writings many years ago by someone who was professionally well positioned to decide what was and what wasn’t good writing and who made it hurtfully clear that what I had sent him wasn’t. what I had submitted was summarily dismissed as “Idle Musings” Fie!!

· Projects – The project list is a long one. Much too long. And the projects themselves are too long neglected. This category will most likely consist of an update and a statement about what I see as the next step toward completion. I anticipate brevity here because it makes no sense to spend more (or an equal amount of) time writing about a project than actually working on it.

· Emails – quick and not necessarily dirty tidbits about just about anything. More in the way of a listed reference or sharing info on something coming up that –yes, I know it’s presumptuous – that may not be widely known.

Will it “work”? Well, if by that term do I mean will others be pleased or pissed or put off? Only “they” can say. I know this may well sound peculiar but I am doing this for me while recognizing that I actually like the idea of sharing with others. It is not, however, an exercise in approval- or wrath-seeking. It is, more to the point, one way among who know how many ways of Coming to Grips with that person on the planet I happen to know best…Bob Bowen.

…to be continued…….

Posted by mbowen at 06:11 PM | Comments (0)

The Josephine Peak Trek

boredom and/or nostalgia can indeed be a motivator. this past thursday 'bout noon, i had a notion. not just to head (again!) for the angeles forest, but to "do" josephine peak. so.....with the usual suspect snack (ice ta, water, cookies, cheese crackers and peanut butter cracker, bug repellent, hiking stick and bug repellent, off and up i went. although it has been YEARS (i am positive more than 10) i could basically anticipate the trail. i made it to the josephine-strawberry peak intersection -- i know that's not a mountain term -- in 58 minutes. and from there to the peak was another 40 mins. i was whupped but elated! sat, snacked, read, let the mind wander and RESTED! i set the camera on some rocks and "flicked away" it was kinda overcast but quite warm and pleasant.

you'll be getting the flicks later this morning. you'll note both a white and red "hankie" wrapped around ye olde head. i usually wear the white one but i found myself driven to high altitude madness by the little bitty bugs who are bugged by repellent. they continue to hear for/into my ears. thus, my new do. get it. it looks ridiculous, but worked like a charm.

trek to islip with the antioch folks is tomorrow. i'll go to early service at st john's. (painting there later this morning)

luv,

pops

Posted by mbowen at 10:15 AM | Comments (0)