Occupation of Independence

 Recall that I am a recovering armchair general, attempting to become an armchair media critic.  It has always been surprising how much talking there is on You Tube, and yet there are hardly any maps.  I have seen talking-heads give confusing and lengthy speeches about war-front geography -- please, shut up and show me a meaningful map! The maps that are shown do not even have labels on them.  If graphs are shown, their labels and legends are illegible. Perhaps the medium is the message.  Graphs and maps do not show well on the restricted real estate of a smartphone, but talking does.  Earlier I wrote about how bad many talking-heads are, at talking.  But there are people who are good at talking.  Other people would be wise to imitate them.  So this is a shout-out to one of those good talkers: 'Mr. Global,' on You Tube.  Seriously I love the way that guy talks! 

In preparation for a colonoscopy, they put you on a special diet to empty out your intestines.   It involves a lot of Gatorade, clear broth, and laxatives. I thought I would be hungry without solid food, but the broth was surprisingly satisfying.  I had never bought broth before, at the grocery store.  Why wasn't I buying broth all the time?  On top of everything else, broth doesn't need refrigeration when unopened.  A camper should like that. Putting leftovers into broth for more nutrition and taste is so easy.  That is how our frugal (and less obese) ancestors ate.  They used leftovers from the main meal in mid-day.  Remember that they didn't have good refrigeration in those days.  There is always something that needs to be used up, soon. My new evening meal. Just think: all my life I had been cleaning out skillets and pans during the mid-day meal by washing the residue down the sink, instead of saving it for evening soup.  A...

 Perhaps we got as much as 0.05" of rain the other day.  If that weren't miraculous enough, it stayed cloudy most of the day. The next day there was some dampness to the ground.  This is fantastic for a hiker or mountain biker.  The ground had turned from something uncomfortable and dead into something completely different, something with real hope.  But don't think I am telling tall tales: there weren't any mud puddles to slosh through. If life and hope aren't worth noticing and writing about, what is?  But how would you actually write about it?  Lavishing adjectives on it probably wouldn't work.  The long-suffering reader knows my stump speech by heart, by now.  But each new manifestation of it seems fresh to me because something that was dead and predictable is washed over by the surprising and the alive, like a wave of white sea foam onto a beach.  Before the smartphone, RVers still had daguerreotypes to capture the moment....

It is rare to get a punch in the gut when reading a history book.  But how would you react to this quote about the war between ancient Athens and Sparta, from Lewis Dartnell's "Origins, How the Earth's History Shaped Human History"?  It was written  7 years before Trump-anyahu's War Against Iran : "Ultimately it was Athens' dependence on grain imported along the sea lanes from the Black Sea that proved her fatal weakness. Falling upon the Athenian navy right in the narrow strait of the Hellespont, the Spartans utterly destroyed it.  The Peloponnesian War is a good illustration of the central importance of the geography of the seas and the vulnerability of vital maritime routes at narrow straits. Commanding such naval chokepoints, and thus a rival’s access to overseas resources, is often as important as controlling territory on land, and can determine the outcome of wars and the fate of civilisations." It is rare to see such a tangible and pithy examp...

 It is time to come up for air.  I can only think and write about the problems of the world so much before I need to shift my attention to something more soothing.  Such as the prettiest field I have ever seen.  It was just outside of town (in west central Idaho).  Wouldn't it be nice to drive by agricultural fields and know every time what the crop is?!  Presumably this is barley or wheat:  It seemed like you could drown in there!  Lush fields of grain are sometimes featured in movies: think of the fantasy scene in "Gladiator" or the 'Kiss' scene in "Room With a View".  I wish I knew of more such scenes. The reader might think I am exaggerating the beauty of agricultural fields, and wonder why I don't show more mountains, arches, and cliffs from famous national parks in the western states.  Believe me, a person can get tired of lifeless rocks, trees without leaves, and cholla needles.  A person can get tired of endless drought and ...

 For better or worse I like to write about travel in terms of subjective experiences.  I prefer not to write about breathtakingly beautiful scenery, how many solar panels you need, or whether RV toilet paper should be one ply or two.  When you camp in the backcountry, and then return to civilization, you notice things that you probably wouldn't notice if you lived in town all the time.  In that sense, it is a 'travel experience.' Rolling into a gas station in the "big" city, I noticed a couple obese female customers.  Why oh why didn't they at least wear long pants and shirts?!  It is not exaggerating to say that they 'wounded' me with a special type of sadness. What was causing this reaction?  Was it just a male-sexist-pig being deprived of his fair share of eye candy?  No, I don't think so.  As a man gets older he places less emphasis on his own pleasure or excitement and looks at the Big Picture of the human condition. The punch in the gut...

 The introductory chapters of history books are usually marvelous to read.  But Big Pictures can sometimes become over-generalized, superficial verbiage.  So there is the opposite approach, using a tangible and specific event to serve as a metaphor to illustrate the Big Picture. Perhaps that is the approach future historians will take when discussing the end of the American Empire.  They will introduce their book with a comparison of the funeral in Iran and Trump's Great American State Fair, taking place on the same weekend. Did you have a chance to see videos at the street level of the funeral in Tehran?  I was impressed with how calm and long-suffering people were.  They needed hours just to get to it, after fighting the traffic of a giant city.  Where were the porta-potties and the food trucks?  It didn't seem like Iranians needed hats for that sun.  They stood shoulder to shoulder in triple digit (Fahrenheit) heat. Why!, it's as if t...

 Everybody probably has a list of worst fears.  For my part I have long 'horribilized' crossing Hell's Canyon in July.  Yesterday, the day before the Fourth of July, I did cross it.  It was hard to believe. Getting ready to cross the bottom.     At the bottom I crossed paths with a couple bicycle tourers.  They didn't seem too miserable.  A few more miles in Idaho, we stopped at a nice rest stop and campground.  The leaf-bearing trees were gorgeous.  Walking through the little park I felt warm, but not hot. People and children were jumping in the Snake River to cool off.  Their pleasure was infectious, even to me.  Up on top, the first couple small towns were having a nostalgic Independence Day celebration.  Farmers' Markets, watermelons, sweet corn, parades.  The grocery store was packed. I didn't see one pro-Trump banner or Israeli flag.  Everything seemed so normal and wholesome.  This is not an advertise...

 It is terrible to hear the saber-rattling by NATO and Russia.  Reckless threats!  As if talk of Russia hitting industrial or government facilities in Europe is not bad enough, the pundits even speculate about tactical nuclear weapons.   My guess is that Russia does need to hit NATO directly, if Russia is ever to stop NATO from sending drones to Ukraine, which then hit Russia.  Russia needs to find a way to retaliate that does not escalate the situation.  It should not inflame NATO countries, cause them to unify, and pull in Uncle Sucker from Washington, DC.  To do this, the loss of life should be minimal.  How could you hit drone-production in Europe without killing people?  The Ukrainian drones sometimes hit energy facilities in Russia.  Within 24 hours, Russia should hit back.  But at what? Look at the unique electrical generating system in Europe, especially in the countries along the North Sea.  These countr...

 If I wasn't familiar with this hill, the highway sign would have been alarming:  They even had a third warning, a half mile later!  But the risk was over-stated.  Real risk needs a nasty surprise and I almost got one, a few days later: I didn't see this vertical drain hole (and tire trap) when I drove in, pulling my trailer.  By sheer dumb luck, I missed it.   Imagine the embarrassing discussion with the tow truck driver that could have happened later in the day: "What were you thinking, mister?  Didn't you even see the hole?" Actually I was more concerned about the high winds on this half-bare ridgeline, and the upcoming weather forecast.  There were a lot of blow-downs in the area:  And yet, the high altitude, high winds, weather forecast, and isolation were exciting, probably because Book Bub had told me of a discount on Lawrence Bergreen's "Columbus: The Four Voyages."  There is nothing like reading the right book at the right...

 If you live long enough, you'll have a chance to experience anything, no matter how ridiculous.  Getting excited about buying clothes seems about as silly as you can get.  But it actually happened. I bought an excellent windproof, hooded shell in a thrift store, the other day.  I have always admired people who come out of thrift stores with their trophy-like bargains.  But you have to tolerate disorganized clutter, and I don't.  Since I bought an over-sized windshell, it came down long, almost to the mid-thigh. And the arms were long, too.  I love jackets like that. Recently an expensive bicycle jacket wore out at the zipper.  It was probably 8 years old.  I didn't think those narrow zippers would last more than one year.  But I felt inspired to get completely away from over-priced bicycle clothing.  After all, the fabric is just common nylon or polyester, made in some fabric mill in east Asia that makes square light-years of the s...

 It doesn't feel natural or desirable to start off on a walk by going downhill, but that was what we had to get used to, at our current campsite in eastern Oregon.  But I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard some loud and strange animal noises. Some You Tube videos clarified things: I was hearing the plaintive mating calls of rutting elks.  They sounded so close!  And every 30 seconds!  I have never heard so many 'bugles' by elks in my life.  The bugling is so high-pitched, it is hard to believe it comes from an 800 pound beast! There were so many bugles going off in my neighborhood that it was almost funny.  If an elk cow can't find a willing bull in this area, she just isn't trying very hard.

 No more embarrassment and no more apologies for becoming completely satisfied and content when I get certain things.  The other day I experienced a strange kind of chiaroscuro, of violently contrasting bright blue sky and lush, liquid green.  Eastern Oregon was being good at what it does.  If you live in a part of the world that has real trees and grass and soil, you just can't appreciate this: Yes, I can still remember mowing green grass when I was young.  It was wet and smelly sometimes.  I am so fortunate to be able to flutter my eyelashes over trees that actually have leaves.  This is a pin oak, perhaps?: As if these things are not miraculous enough, the city park also had a spirited river running through it: I laughed when I saw these thistles: There was a time in life when these would have seemed fierce to me.  Nowadays, I could chop 'em up, put 'em in a salad, and throw on a little salad dressing.  These softies in the Northwest don't...

Eastern Oregon: I love horses, as so many people do.  But they are not a big part of life, even in the western states.  So it was a real pleasure to stumble onto this, on today's bike ride:  (After popping the arrow twice, the viewer might want to click the rectangle on the black footer bar of the video to enlarge into  "theater mode.")  The immense 'sagebrush sea' (that starts down in southern Nevada) ends here.  The cowboy was only a mile from where the still-visible Oregon Trail exited the sagebrush sea.  Recall Nevada, a month or so ago:  A morning rain shower was dissipating, so the sky was opening up into puffy cumulus clouds: Meanwhile still photography is up to its old tricks -- that is, looking for soft hills and shadows: There is nothing more classic-western than Indian Paintbrush, and there are plenty of them around, in eastern Oregon:

Freakish weather has the effect of making you observant.  And what could be more freakish than two consecutive days of rain in a western state?  That happened recently.  The next morning large pendulous drops were hanging on plants in a way that didn't seem real. The photo, bad as it is, still gets the idea across that drops of water held onto plants like Christmas tree ornaments.  This kind of thing happens so infrequently I cannot predict it. But it makes me nostalgic for returning to a real camera instead of a smartphone.   For years I used a compact zoom.  It really was more fun taking photos back then.  And the moisture/water/fog photos turned out rather well: The photo above was taken near Moab on a chilly, autumn morning.  Our bike ride had taken us downhill, into a frost pocket.  It was shockingly cold in that hole. One winter morning, after some generous rain in southern Arizona: Sometimes even fog is photogenic: Even spider we...

It might sound silly to imagine oneself as an armchair media critic, but consider how much of your life can be squandered "watching" talking heads on You Tube.  Some method is needed to reduce the wasted time.   Most talking heads are simply too wordy.  They use words like most customers at a car wash use water: unconscionable quantities of water, blasting away at high pressure.  Noise and waste.  Do they expect to achieve the desired results through pure erosion? Consider the image of a skilled carpenter, or at least, a hammerer. Light tap, tap just to start the nail. Then a crescendo of harder strokes, with each one bringing the nail closer to home.  Three is usually enough. There is a German journalist (Patrik Baab) who talks like that, and in English, not his native language.  

 It's time to admit that it is harder to be an armchair general or armchair geopolitical analyst than I used to think.  Our current president makes that so.  And to some extent, Putin is to blame. So what is a retiree, with too much time on his hands, supposed to do?  How about being an armchair media critic, especially when you live in a time when a new medium is developing, as You Tube is. I have tolerated too many talking heads who speak half-English.  Even Brits with non-rhotic English have become tiresome -- or should I say ti-uh-some? Some guys flap their hands around on You Tube while over-hyping everything, like a salesman.  And there are female talking heads who expose too much skin and wear too much makeup.  Shameless! There are several talking heads that I have a high opinion of.  But the minute they show up on screen with an entire wall of bookshelves in the background and they talk like a professor, I should turn them off.  Do ...

 It seems like Microsoft-Hate is in a growth phase these days.  You would have to know a lot about operating systems to sum it all up, fairly.  Hating Microsoft appeals to some of us on an emotional level, especially for people who are suckers for an anti-establishment, anti-mainstream cause. One practical issue is that laptop PCs only seem to last about three years, these days.  And it's getting harder to buy a replacement for $300, as in the recent past.  Chromebooks can be bought for that, but that just switches you to Google-Hate .  Chromebooks don't even have a delete key .  They are too browser-oriented for me -- Google deprives Chromebook of reasonable memory in order to force you to shove everything onto Google Drive , Google Photos, Google Docs, etc.  And Google will find a way to defeat any ad-blocking by the browser.  I was turned off by going to the Linux operating system by partitioning the drive of my current laptop, dual-b...

Certain dogs have charmed my socks off.  But 'charm' is not the word that first comes to mind when contemplating homo sapiens .  There must be exceptions.   In fact it is easy to run into exceptional and charming people in early summer.  That is the morel mushroom season .  Every year I run into mushroom-mongers in the inland Northwest , and every year they amuse me.  There is something wonderful about middle-aged and older adults acting as enthusiastic as puppies chasing a ball. And they love to talk about their obsession.  This year, an older couple drove by in a pickup and proudly showed their collection:  She held those mushrooms like they were nuggets of gold.  They gave lots of advice on the right way to cook them up. Early summer is so wonderful around here.  Yes, I know an Arizona-like furnace will be here in a month.  But let's enjoy paradise while we can.   The Little Salmon River was full of life:  ...

Are Americans changing what they eat, as a reaction to the shocking prices in the grocery stores?  It would be a significant silver lining to the foreign policy disasters of the current regime .  The whole idea of fast food has fallen out of my head.  Does it seem like McDonalds is less busy than the past?  Wouldn't it be nice to see thousands of Starbucks close?  Eating "out" has become unimaginable.  I am even shocked by the coffee prices at the gas station .  Even the junk food at the Dollar Stores has become unaffordable.   Obesity might become a shrinking industry in America.  Older men remember that you couldn't walk through a grocery store in the good old days, without turning the corner at an aisle and being surprised -- or momentarily stunned -- by some nice-looking young lady.  Imagine if that were to happen again! The worse the news becomes, the easier it is to become hopeful, almost to the point of escapism....