2023 Mt Goddard Day 2: Post Corral Creek To Disappointment Lake

Rising early on Day Two (between the sun rising early and the general noise of people moving, one almost always rises early), we found these friends wandering in our campsite:

They were completely fearless.  Likely looking for salt.

At breakfast we got our first surprise of the day:  one of our members, the outlier, had decided not to go on.  His alternate plan was to stay at the camp for the remaining 4 days and wait until our return.  The guides chatted with him but he felt he could not go on.  We left one bear canister of food with him and started on our way.

I would tell you that it was a rapid ascent and that there was lovely scenery- except, frankly, I do not recall much of it.  About two hours in I started to feel not well:  low energy, upset stomach. slowing down.  We trudged on up the hill  until we reached a meadow for lunch, approximately three hours total hiking.  I sloughed off my pack and collapsed onto the ground - where I was mauled by mosquitos, even though I had applied mosquito repellent.  I found a ready made solution:  with my raincoat on including the hood and zipped up and a bandanna over my face, I was relatively impervious to them.  I lay there for almost an hour like that.  From what I heard later, the trout fishing there was amazing.  I, on the other hand, managed to eat a tortilla.

After lunch we started out again.  Within a quarter of a mile there I was getting no better, to the point that I got slower and slower - until I threw up.

Welcome, my friends, to the wonderful world of Acute Mountain Sickness, also known as Altitude Sickness.

The amazing thing - after I recovered a bit and took a drink - was the reaction of the group, most of whom I had literally met 24 hours prior.  I soon found myself stripped of my sleeping bag, tent, clothing bag, and bear canister (and eventually, my backpack). There was no question or issues; everyone just pitched in and put something in their bag.

Leaving me and one other person, either a guide or an experienced hiker, to make my way up the remaining two miles.

Could, The Commissioner asked, I do thirty steps?

I started out and counted thirty as I moved.  To be clear, these were not big regular steps (or at least as big as I could make them for me); these were almost literally shuffles.  But I got to thirty.

Could I do forty?  After that, could I do fifty?  We almost got up to seventy before I ratcheted back down to fifty, which seemed to be the sweet spot.

And so, fifty steps at a time, I advanced into the Sierras.

The fact that this was happening was a shock to me - in all my life I had never had my body fail me the way it was.  Sure, I have tried to lift things that were too heavy or to distances longer than I should have - but even then the spirit was there but I simply did not have the strength or stamina - but I still fell I had the energy.  Now I was deprived even of that energy.  

Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.  Stop, breathe, gather strength.

One, two three..

You may note my picture selection seems a bit thin for this post.  Literally, these are all the pictures I managed to take for the day - and most of them were before lunch.  The beauty of the Sierras was lost to me; not surprisingly, if all you are doing is looking at the ground and putting one foot in front of the other.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

The second person with me switched out from time to time.  Every one of them was encouraging and sympathetic - not in a syrupy sort of way, just acknowledging that there was an issue - and appreciating the fact that I still continued to move forward.

After the fact - when I was back where I could read up on such things - I learned that ascending too fast (more than about 1,000 feet a day) can bring it on - certainly with my two other experiences (that I recognize now) that was the case:  the first was hiking in 2022 when we crossed a pass at 11,000 feet, the second was Mt. Whitney when I reached the top.  And it is not stamina that determines it, but rather the rate of the ascent (thus why no issues except ascending Mt. Whitney itself, where our ascent was more gradual and we spent more time at altitude).  Turns out some people are more prone to it, and it it appears that I am one.

By the time we reached our goal - the aptly though ironically named Disappointment Lake - I was thoroughly spent. The Commissioner very kindly had erected my tent for me.  I crawled in and almost immediately went to sleep. My late afternoon and evening were spent drifting between sleeping and wakefulness, forcing myself to eat a bowl of soup and drink water, and just generally being miserable.

At least the sunset was spectacular.

2023 Mount Goddard Day 1: Courtright Reservoir To Post Corral Creek

After the 2022 Mt. Whitney Hike, my brother in law (The Outdoorsman) and I began planning for the next year.

Our choices came down to two possible hikes through the organization we had used; one that The Outdoorsman had done before and one that he had not.  The "had not" was Mt. Goddard.  The hike itself was overall less mileage than Mt. Whitney (82 miles for Whitney and we clocked out of the Goddard trailhead at 52 miles) and shorter (8 days including a half day for Mt. Whitney versus 5 days including two half days for Mt. Goddard) but was considered their most challenging hike as more of it was off trail than any other hike.

"Off Trail", to those who may be wondering, simply means that these were trails that they had found and followed themselves.  It did not inherently mean cutting through virgin wilderness or climbing granite faced cliffs with no direction, just that there are no maintained trails.  More physical of course, but also less likely to meet other people and more likely to see things few others saw.

Our meeting place was at the cabin of The Commissioner, the leader of our hike.  Besides The Outdoorsman and myself, we had his future son-in-law with us, The Brit.  There we linked up with the rest of the team, 6 other men all around the same age we are (late forties to early sixties) and our "assistant" guide The Ghost, a young man in his early twenties who two weeks earlier had come off completing 4/5's of the 2500 mile Pacific Crest Trail (he skipped the Sierras portion due to snow but would return to finish that part).  Interestingly - and apparently for the first time - this particular hike was all men (a couple of female hikers from our Whitney trip had intended to come but met with physical injuries just before the hike).

After the inevitable awkward male introductions and pack checks, we were off for an hour drive to the trailhead.

To be completely transparent, I was a little concerned about this hike going in, most in my conditioning.  I had really done well on the Whitney hike with elevation but in 2023 had missed the June and July training hikes of the previous year - the June hike due to going to Greece and training with the head of my sword school, the July hike due to starting a new job.  I had been working out and walking that whole time, but I still had a certain mistrust of myself.

Exiting the van at Courtright Reservoir, we were met with rain - not excessive, but definitely present.  Rain would come to be one of the defining factors of the hike, with rain being present in some form almost every day of the hike.  The other was mosquitoes - not just plentiful, but overly so.  We had been warned; I was still not ready for the swarms that greeted one.

The descent to Post Corral Creek was not a terrible hike.  The rain stopped soon enough and we were able to shed our raincoats (I brought one this year).  The scenery was similar to that from Whitney and Hetchy Hetchy:  pines, water, blue sky.

As is usual at the start of these things, we tended to stick to who we knew.  We three were a small group (until The Outdoorsman and The Brit both outstripped me; they are taller and fast hikers and I am shorter and slow), another three who knew each other from previous hikes, someone who lived near The Commissioner, and an outlier who had been on a previous hike separate from any of us.

Our goal was Post Corral Creek, the starting point for the loop that we could complete to go to Goddard and back.  It was a 7.5 mile hike, but The Commissioner was completely sure we would easily make it by evening.  He was right; it only took about 4 hours to cover the distance.

Thanks to the Winter rains and snow this last Winter, streams and green meadows were abundant.

By the time we arrived, set up camp, and had dinner, the sun was already sinking in the sky.  It was a gentle break-in to what likely was going to be a grueling four days before we came back to this site.

22 Years On

 9/11 is upon us again.

The generation that was born that year graduated from college this year.  One wonders what it is like to always grow up and have your elders speak of a world that seems behind a glass door, a day before "The War on Terror" was a commonly used phrase, where people traveled freely and people were sent off or greeted at airport gates instead of at the curbside.  On the other hand, to commemorate a day which you have no recollection of at all, only pictures and videos.

To be fair, I never went to The World Trade Center while it existed and I was of an age to go.  There was a good 10 to 12 years I could have gone; for me then (as me now) urban centers held little to interest me.  That the World Trade Center existed was within my knowledge base; that I needed to somehow see what the world looked like 100+ stories up, not so much.

(Source)

My concern - both with myself and those that were born then, and even those that were alive before and during, is that we get dulled to the reality of what happened.

It is not just that it was a terrorist attack.  It is not that the system was used against us.  It is even not that people died (as horrible as that it is).  It is that people came to a point that they willingly chose death rather than take their chances.

(Source)

A great deal was lost on that day, a real sense of national innocence and invulnerability. For a time - if briefly - the country was united in a way I cannot remember before or sense.  Yes, that unity spun off into a lot of directions it probably should not have - but for a moment at least, we were all Americans.

But some of our fellow citizens died to get us there.  And for at least some of them, they consciously chose to end their own lives in a single plunge when faced with almost no other alternative.

(Source)

We forget such days and things at our own peril, as that seems too high a price to pay.

Never.  Forget.

On Searching For A New Church: Questions

 As I wrote about in last Sunday's post, I am in the process of looking for a new church home.  Thanks to all for the comments and suggestions.

One thing I attempt to be on this blog (to the greatest extent I feel I can) is transparent; thus, it seems appropriate to list out the criteria which I am using. I note that other than the first two, these are not set in any sort of ascending order.

1)  Acceptance of Scripture as the Inspired Word of God:  Not a great deal to say here; either they accept it as such or it is a series of stories and parables and good advice.  That latter part I can literally get anywhere.

2)  Acceptance of the Seven Ecumenical Councils:  The seven commonly accepted ecumenical councils (325, 381, 431, 451, 533, 680-681, and 727 - all A.D.) hashed out a lot of important doctrine (the Nicene creed being one prominent example) and contributed greatly to the language of how the Church discusses doctrine (for example, the Nature of Christ).  Not all churches will acknowledge or refer to the Ecumenical councils as such (for example, some non-denominational churches I have attended are very specific in the references, some mainline churches never talk about them), but the ones I am likely interested in will at least acknowledge the Councils' output.

3)  Regularly offers Communion:  Communion was something that I grew up with happening almost every Sunday or on a very fixed schedule (first and third Sundays, that sort of thing).  There is nothing Scriptural about how often communion is to be given, just that it happens.  In my current case, it is almost never offered.  I certainly benefit from it.

(Note One: I understand that certain denominations - Roman Catholic and Orthodox - have specifications around this based on one taking communion based on one's understanding. That is also part of the calculation).

4)  Worship that lifts up God:  One of my significant complaints about current worship in a lot of places is the songs seem to be more about us with God thrown in, instead of the other way around.  I tend to judge this be the number of times the words "I" and "we" are used in conjunction with doing things for God, instead of "I" and "we" being used in how we are saved by God and are to worship him.  I note "current worship" because this often seems to be the case; the traditional hymns (pre-1960's) I grew up with did not have this issue.

(Note Two:  Secondarily in worship, as mentioned before, is volume.  Also - and a personal preference - endless choruses of the same thing that repeat themselves)

5)  Offers a domestic and international vision, focused on God:  Some churches only see around them, some churches only see beyond themselves.  Scripture clearly has both sorts of views in mind.

6)  Provides a structure to live in:  I am a person that simply does better when my life is structured.  Having some sort of regular structure - be it A Rule or Practices or Mode of Life - would be helpful. 

(Note Three:  Evangelical non-denominational churches seem to suffer in this realm especially.)

7) Has a theology and background that I can dig into:  Theology is not always interesting to everyone; it is to me.  Tell me a church's theology and I can tell you what they practically believe instead of what they profess to believe.  If there are written works, so much the better

(Note Four:  By written works, I mean actual written works on theology, not the "pop culture" theology books that seem to proliferate today.)

8)  Has a traditional understanding of Biblical morality:  Although it is not something we discuss here (because it often polarizes instead of encouraging discussion, which is main goal at this blog), I actually have opinions on such things.  I will note that in general where traditional Biblical morality fails, other things like theology, worship, and structure all seem to suffer accordingly.

9)  Does not have an annual "giving" campaign:  Scripture talks a great deal about money and how to handle it, and talks about giving to the local church (as well as charitable giving) so my complaint does not lie there.  Where it lies is in the practice of some churches to have an annual event - usually a month - called something like "Giving Month", where every service is focused on giving and the dreaded "Annual Pledge" is to be pro-offered (or even worse, the more-dreaded "Capital Campaign").  It makes the church seem like it is only interested in money (thus confirming that believe any who happen to be visiting.

I will say this is something our current church does well:  they have an opportunity for giving at every service and occasionally do "flash giving" campaigns (one or two Sundays dedicated to a single purpose), but they never drag on about it.  Of note, they continue receive increasing amounts of tithes (which is as it should be).

10)  I "fit" there:  This is the most subjective measure of all and by measure, I mean "I will know it when I see it".  Simply put, it means that I belong there, that it is the sort of place that I want to spend more time and and people I want to spend more time with, not somewhere that I try to go to as little as possible and people I try to find every reason in the world not to encounter outside of Sundays 0900-1100 - a place and people that become part of one's life, not something to be endured.

-----

Chances I achieve anything close to a ten of ten on this list?  Not great.  If such a place fulfilled all these things, likely it would be filled to the rafters (and getting seating on Sunday).  Do I have a "minimum threshold" for acceptability? Not yet - partially because I think so much rests on item 10 that it outweighs everything except items 1 and 2.  

Still, for the first time in perhaps my life, I have some kind of standard to use.  I am curious to see what comes out of this kind of approach.

Becoming Self Educated

 

  

Europe, 1444 A.D.

 I am indebted to Bayou Renaissance Man for posting a link to the map below.  It is a map of Europe from 1444 A.D.:

If you click on the link here, it will take you to the map where you can actually expand it to the detail level.

Strangely enough, this map fascinates me for what it represents.  In 1444 A.D., the Byzantine Empire still existed and the New World had not been discovered yet (well, not by most of Europe - The Icelanders knew better).  Spain, Germany, France - all are still a patchwork of counties, countries, and kingdoms.  The Islamic Caliphate of Granada still exists. 

The nation-state as we know it is continuing to evolve during this time, but there are still large remnants of a fragmented empire (look at how much of that territory was, at one time, controlled by a single entity, the Roman Empire).  

Wistful is not quite the feeling I get when I see look at the map.  Just a sense of a long ago now vanished, of which we hear the vaguest of echoes.

The Collapse CXVII: Wedding Day

20 June 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius,

It has been a day.

It all started rather early in the morning, when I was taking my morning tea (which, generally is dilute and cold. I have not quite mastered the art of making my own tea yet after all these years and my ability to extend the life of a tea bag only extends so far). A knock at the door disturbed my early morning Pondering Time. Rather odd of course, as no-one knocks this early.

Opening the door, I found Pompeia Paulina, Stateira, and young Xerxes. And two wheelbarrows full of things.

“Good morning” chirped Pompeia Paulina, not missing a beat as she kissed me on the cheek and handed me a pile of things from the wheelbarrow. “Just put these wherever makes sense” she smiled as she grabbed another pile herself and sidled through the door.

Apparently it is moving day.

I am not one for disorder and chaos Lucilius, and for almost two hours that is exactly what I had. Trips back and forth to the wheelbarrow (mostly Young Xerxes and myself) as Stateira and Pompeia Paulina began organizing and sorting. My armoire (there is no closet) is now 50% full of things that do not belong to me and my chest of drawers has been helpfully rearranged to make room for someone else’s feminine things.

Also, it is apparent I am now considering decorating in Southwestern colors.

And then like that, they disappeared – Pompeia Paulina with another kiss on the cheek and a reminder to “be sure and dress nicely” and Stateira just beaming. Young Xerxes at least had the dignity to look embarrassed at the matter – although I suppose he had already endured this or was about to.

Dress nicely. Sigh. Another thing I had not counted on.

Digging through my now filled storage closet, I found at shirt that had an actual collar and pants that seems to lack major holes or stains. When was the last time I had “dressed up”? Last year for the Fourth of July? Almost a year ago? Had it been that long?

There is no iron of course, so I hung things up and hoped for the best. At least my boots could undergo another polishing, which helped to calm my mind.

I spent the rest of the morning doing the morning chores and trying to straighten up a bit from the cyclone that had blown through in the morning. It is odd, this realization that in a few hours time, my solitude here in this fashion would be at an end. An entirely new chapter was starting in the period of 24 hours.

Perhaps not a new chapter, now that I think about it. More a continuation of an existing one, picked up at a later point.

Rather quickly in spite of my maundering, the time was upon me. Looking as “duded up” as a gentleman living in the midst of an economic collapse could, I stepped out the door.

Armed, of course. One only, ever, goes out armed anymore.

The Post Office had been converted into a marriage chapel – apparently we were not the only ones that had decided that “today was the day” as there were 6 couples there. The pastor from the next town over had ridden over on his horse to do the ceremony. Married by a circuit preacher – my historical heart, at least, was gratified. The room was full – so full, in fact, that we ended up moving everything outside to accommodate what constituted an actual happy event, devoid of the issues swirling around us.

How did Pompeia Paulina look? Somehow she had managed to hold onto an evening gown in which she looked...Tremendous? Elegant? Intoxicating? It is not often my vocabulary fails me, Lucilius, but for one of the few times of my life I found myself legitimately and completely speechless.

Comparatively I was under dressed – but as this is often the case, what was so different today?

The ceremony itself was brief, the pastor speaking the general words that most pastors do during such things but also said something that stuck in my head: Marriage is always an investment in the future, but now more than ever, marriage was a realization both that in the current environment two were better than one and that truly, marriage today spoke to the belief that there was a future out there to believe in, even if we could not see it now.

With that, we were all married.

Someone (I suspect Pompeia Paulina, but she would not confess) had gone to the trouble to make sure that there were cookies and coffee for after the ceremony. Not quite the elaborate wedding cake of years past, but all the more enjoyed for the fact that it truly was a special occasion.

After dispersing (after all, a wedding is a wedding but there are chores to do), we went back to what likely now is Young Xerxes and Stateira’s house. Not only had Pompeia Paulina and Stateira managed to look amazing for the wedding, they had prepared a dinner for us. Nothing fancy of course – not much is fancy at this point – vegetables and fish and as a treat, white wine – but special all in its own way.

I had planned to spend more time after dinner talking with Young Xerxes about what else he knew, but kept getting looks from Pompeia Paulina (My wife. I suppose I should start using the phrase “my wife” now) until I finally got the idea that maybe the discussion could wait until later. Everyone again congratulated everyone all around and we took our leave.

The walk back to the Cabin was pleasantly quiet. We strolled arm in arm through the evening sun with the sounds of children playing and dogs barking and the occasional laugh. If one had not known better and been willing to let go of the lack of automobile noise, it would have seemed like an ordinary evening.

----------------------

Lucilius – I have reliably informed that although I may have more to write, I must end this missive short. Apparently even my writing time is no longer fully my own.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca

Greece 2023: Kalambaka

Kalambaka (Καλαμπάκα) may date as early as 200 B.C.; it was certainly a location in the 10th Century Byzantine Empire.  The town itself sits below The Meteora, a great site of monastics and monasteries since the 13th Century A.D.  but dating back to a location of Christian Ascetics since the 11th Century A.D.

The monasteries dominate the landscape to the North:

The rocks in this region are both striking and unique, rising up in some cases as almost pillars above the landscape.  The caves  in the rocks were used by the early ascetics to escape the world and be alone:

Looking south, one sees the plains of Thessaly, famous in Ancient Greece for their horseman:

I should include more pictures of our meals when I took them:

(Administrative note:  We will be taking a break from Greece next week as we head back to the Sierra Nevada Mountains.)

Greece 2023: Aigae to Kalambaka

 One of the things that one spends a fair amount of time doing on a pre-planned tour is riding on a motor coach through the countryside.

These trips can vary. In Greece, we were "on the road" no more than 3 to 3.5 hours at a single take, as opposed to some trips The Ravishing Mrs. TB has taken, where they are on the road up to 8 hours between stops.  In either case, you end spending more time than you like anticipate - which is not great if your not a person that enjoys riding, but can be great if you are the sort of person that enjoys scenery.

In this case, we were heading south after our visit to Aigae (modern Vergina) to the town of Kalambaka, which sits above the plains of Thessaly and is at the base of the region known as The Meteora, known for its monastaries.

I do not know that I have a lot of commentary on these, other than to say this sort of scenario would not be out of place in parts of the United States that also had a Mediterranean climate:

The rise in rock formations indicated we were getting near to Meteora and Kalambaka.

A Long Slow Plunge

One of the interesting things about the last 3 years - or really almost the last 25 years prior to this - is watching a long, slow decline.    It is interesting because it is the sort of thing one reads about in history books happening to other societies at other times, but one never really considers that it will happen in one's own life.

Part of that is, for lack of a better phrase, dumb luck: someone that lived in late 4rd to early 5th Century A.D. Britain did not see much change at all; someone born in the early to mid 5th Century saw an entire way of life, if not completely disappearing, at well on its way to vanishing over the horizon.

In some ways historians have a leg up on examining these sorts of things:  having seen one societal decline, one knows what to look for in others.  In some cases, as in Sherlock Holmes, the historian sees not only what is going on but what is not going on - noticing the the dog that did not bark and what that is indicative of.

I suspect - were one to look for such things - that those in power at all times and in all places, try to slow the decline as much as they can.  After all, they are the ones that are in the position to benefit the least when the structures that give their lives power, wealth, and meaning get swept away.  At the same time, it is fair to say that those agitating for A Brave New World are not always the winners either:  as multiple revolutions attest to, human nature and circumstances are fickle things and leaders of revolutions are just as likely to get swept away as anyone else.

The argument against the general decline of the West - at least here and now - is made somewhat complicated by the fact that we are - seemingly - at the pinnacle of human experience.  We are moving slowly out into space again, repeatedly.  We have every sort of technology imaginable to meet not only our needs, but our wants and desires.  We get the world delivered to our home and can see the world from our home.  How, in the midst of such obvious comfort, material wealth, and technological advancement, can we be talking about any sort of decline in the vein of the Western or Eastern Roman Empire, Edo Japan, or Tsarist Russia?

I eschew pointing to specific events in general, as 1) Events and trends are subject to the interpretation of the individual and thus present points of disagreement instead of discussion; and 2) Specific events may or may not be indicative of future outcomes - sometimes things that I would think would accelerate any sort of downturn are ripples in the pond while others which are seemingly minor have great impact.  The novel thing about history of course:  you can only really understand it looking back even as it is lived forward.

I suppose where I would point to is a sense of the future.

(Source)

What, in the world of analysis and media and punditry, is the vision of the future which is being offered?  If this - the current timeframe - is the pinnacle of 3,000 years of human advancement and history, what do we have to look forward to?  The reality is that, at least for myself, I have heard no-one propose the sort of future that sounds anything like where we would want to live.

Yes, of course, space travel is always "the option", and maybe we will get there someday (for those that are interested in such things, The Silicon Graybeard has a daily and weekly round up of such things).  But it will not be like the books and movies; both expense and physics are against us.

The visions that are being provided by multiple groups does not sound enchanting:  smaller everything, less everything, packed tighter and tighter into larger and larger cities which are more dependent than ever on resources from everywhere, a giant maw devouring food, energy, consumer goods, water - and returning only waste to the surrounding areas.

Were this an industrial plant in a pristine environment, we would rightly call "foul" on such a plan and actions.  Because it meets various agendas and beliefs, we call it "acceptable".

(Note 1: To be clear, all sides in the current sociopolitical milieu, or at least 89% of them, are to blame.  There is no "Red' or "Blue" here, to use the American version.  Either they have some vision of the above, or simply no vision at all other than "the opposite", without having any real definition of what the opposite is. At best, it is "more of the same" - the same, of course, being ill defined.)

(Note 2:  It does make wonder if this lack of vision has contributed to the overall rising of the gaming industry, which has now outstripped the movie industry in terms of popularity.  I wonder if, given the fact that no vision is offered for this world and its future, people are quite willing to go find other worlds and places to explore, adventure in, and live in.  It has the benefit of at least being entertaining.)

Societies and civilizations exist and survive because ultimately the individual somehow benefits from them, although arguably not all equally.  Remove that benefit - give individuals nothing but the mere traces of benefit and no ability to invest in their own future or better themselves - and the individual's reason for investing in the society and civilization disappears.  

In the later Western Roman Empire (3rd Century), the provinces of Gaul were wracked by internal civil conflict.  The Bacaudae, a combination of "local free peasants, runaway slaves, and deserters from the legions, who were trying to resist the ruthless labor exploitation of the late Roman proto-feudal colonius manorial systems and military systems, and all manner of punitive laws and levies in the marginal corners of the empire." (Source).  They were initially crushed, but continued to re-appear the next two hundred years in various corners of the Empire.  

Give people enough reason to not invest in the society or civilization and it will simply disappear to become only a memory and reminder of past greatness, buried in books for the future historians to read and marvel at.

On Searching For A New Church

God has been pretty heavily on my mind the last week.  Specifically, my relationship to Him and my involvement with Him.

One major issue I have been struggling with. - for at least 3 years if I am fair about it - is my relationship to my current church.

Yes, I know.  There are many people that feel that they do not necessarily need a church.  Like many things, I can come up with Scripture suggesting that is not the case but would also be lying if I said history is filled with those that did not have a "church" yet were close to God (Anchorites and monastics come to mind).  For better or worse, I am not one of those individuals.  I need structure and community.

It is not that where we attend now is unfriendly or wrong or bad.  Sure, it is a little more charismatic than I am used to and the music is loud (really loud, actually), but inherently 85% of what is preached is not un-biblical (I allow for 15% because I do not believe anyone is spot on 100% of the time, barring being an actual Apostle).

It is just that I am looking at my connection and the impact it is having on my life.  And realizing that effectively, it is just the same as if I was not attending church.

There are two solutions of course, either throw myself into it harder or seek another church.  

The first...seems unlikely.  There is just not a lot of enthusiasm from my side - which is odd in the sense that the people are very friendly and great, I know a fair amount of the staff, and I have never had a truly "bad" experience there.  It is just...that it leaves me flat.  I feel no connection because of being there, and certainly not a great deal more connected to God.

Which then, of course, suggests I seek another church.  Which itself is complicated by the larger discussion of if this is the time to go Home.

What might that look like? I am not really sure.  I need something with doctrine and structure (also, music that is a little less loud would be amazing).  And I tend to be a bit of traditionalist in such matters, so that almost by default rules out a lot. 

The final thing is that, barring some unforeseen circumstance, I would like this to be the last selection in such matters.

In my youth, we attended both Anglican and Lutheran (American Lutheran).  Later we attended the ELCA (in its early days), then non-denominational, then Lutheran church Missouri Synod, and now back to non-denominational.  Statistically I have 30 to 40 years of life left.  I would like to not do this again.

If you are so inclined, I would appreciate any prayers or well wishes for wisdom in the matter.

I remain your obedient servant,

Toirdhealbheach Beucail

Tales From Produce (A)Isle: Yes, We Have No Bananas (Actually, We Do)

 The two products we put out more than any others on Produce (A)Isle are roma tomatoes and bananas.

The banana that is the mainstay of the Western World is the Cavendish banana.  The history (here) of the Cavendish is interesting:  originally sent to William Cavendish, 6th Duke of Devonshire in the 1830's, they were raised in his Greenhouse.  Originally the Cavendish was not the banana of choice:  this was the Gros Michel ("Big Mike"), which was the commercial mainstay of banana-dom until the 1950's, when it succumbed to a fungal disease called Panama Disease.  At the time it was believed that the Cavendish was resistant to Panama disease and thus entered production; as it turns out this may not be the case and the Cavendish Banana remains at risk.

As longer readers might recall, we saw bananas being grown in Costa Rica in 2021,  The blue bags are to help ripen them.

Bananas come in 40 lbs. boxes.  There are only two suppliers, at least to us: Del Monte and Dole.  There are two types, Organic and Regular Bananas.  Generally, organic bananas are about $0.14 more expensive a pound:

The 40 lbs. box contains four rows of banana bunches, an inner row on each side and an outer row fitting around it.  The rows are separated by plastic.  On the whole, a case of bananas will have been 16 and 20 bunches.

You would be shocked at the amount of bananas we sell.

I can easily refill the banana racks at least twice and possibly three times during a 5 hour shift:  one major loading which may consist of 10 to 12 cases and a second and third loading to fill in the gaps, each easily 4 to 6 cases - thus making the total number handled 18 to 24 cases of bananas at 40 lbs each.  

Let us just say my change in gyms has been adequately compensated for.  By a job.

Additionally, the bananas come in various stages of ripeness.  Some of the are a brilliant ripe yellow, some of them are a faded green to yellow, and some of them are almost pure green. There is no rhyme or reason to what comes: sometimes it seems like 100% yellow, sometimes almost all green.  

Balancing the various ripeness is a trick. The ripe ones obviously get over ripe much more quickly and so keeping them out and up front matters.  The green ones are often less attractive for eating, so too many means slower sales.

An ideal distribution on the rack is that the upper two rows (10' each, two sides) is all more ripe bananas and the bottom two racks are the more green bananas.  How many bunches of bananas are those?  Not sure as there is a lot of variability in bunch sizes, but it is a fair amount.

If you had asked me going into this job what one of my biggest tasks would be, I would not have said bananas - possibly because we do not eat a great many of them but also in that I had no idea how many other people ate them either.  And yet perhaps excluding Roma tomatoes, they remain the item I have to fuss the most about to make sure they are always full.

Or, you might say, I discovered that bananas have great a-peel...

Fail With Honor

 

One of the few things I have never been afraid of in life is failing.

Part of this comes, I suppose, from growing up having hobbies which at the time were not mainstream - reading, comic books, role-playing games, music, drama. One learns to enjoy them in the quiet and silence of one's self or with a few selected friends.  A side benefit of all of this is the fact that one can fail at them without any sort of social or public implications.  You are the only one that knows about the mistake and so you can fix it.

When you launch into the world, you carry that with you.

I have failed at any number of things.  I have failed at a business. I have failed at entertainment.  I have failed at growing any number of vegetables.  I have failed at friendships.  I have failed of my commitments to God.  I have failed at my job, sometimes spectacularly.

I have failed a lot.  

On the other hand, I can generally say that my failures were honest.  I either gave the best effort I had or, barring that, simply decided it was no longer for me.  Very seldom if ever did I fail because I gave less than my full effort.

Have I had successes?  Yes.  And for the most part they, too, have been honest successes where the success was earned through effort.  Occasionally though, I have been the recipient of a success I did not truly earn - not by lying or misrepresentation, but by riding the coattails of of others.

These are not my best moments.  For those most part they all happened years and years ago.

But it is one thing when it is an isolated incident.  It is another when it becomes a practice.

Succeeding by fraud is always a risk.  There are always shortcuts to success.  A very few are legitimate.  Many are not.  And yet, in a society and culture where success is measured as one of the (if not the) main marker for if one is "good" or "successful", the temptation can be very strong indeed.

We are familiar with this, of course, "The End justifies the Means" being perhaps the most pithy quote of our time in this respect.  Substitute "Success justifies fraud" makes it even more pithy.

I know, I know - the temptation is to apply this purely politically. But is not just political.  It is societal.  It is now ingrained into such so much of society, in every stripe and format and belief.  Being on top and achieving the results you want is the most important thing.  How you get there is less important.

Except.

Except that there is a key difference. In all of my failures or even in my successes that I earned, the groundwork that they were built on was stable.  I never had to worry someone was going to go back and find an issue or that they would break under the weight of usage. It was only with my unearned successes that this was a risk.

And thus, the risk with all successes with fraud.

Because all successes with fraud have a built in failure mode, just like an unshielded port that leads to the main reactor.  The flaw is there, just waiting for the right set of circumstances or the right person to be triggered.  When it does, everything built above it collapses, often with devastating results.

It is not that those that succeed with fraud get away with it.  It is just that sometimes one has to wait a very long, long time to see those final results manifest themselves.  And the longer it goes, the greater the crash often seems to be.