Recuerdos de Mexico!

Just returned from my first trip to the heart of Mexico. Visited Mexico City in the Federal District, the town of Texcoco outside the D.F. and Acapulco. I was the sole representative of the Rotary Club of Sunnyvale on a Rotary humanitarian and education mission. The Primary sponsors were the Rotary Clubs of Cupertino (California) and Texcoco de Gante (Mexico).


We left San Francisco on a gray Wednesday morning on a direct flight to Mexico City. There we were met by our Mexican hosts, represented by Sr. Humberto Mayorga, his lovely wife Adela and their two boys, and our guide Francisco Villanueva (Paco).
Our transportion for our entire stay in Mexico was a 45 passenger bus, which we took to the downtown location of our first dinner in Mexico. There we were introduced to the members of the Texcoco de Gante Rotary Club and their families.

Later that evening we checked into our hotel, the elegant Marquis Reforma. Unfortuately we we only spent one night there. The next morning, after a short bus tour of downtown Mexico City, we headed for Texcoco. There we again joined up with members of the host club to visit the local chapter of Pro Mujer, a project funded by the Cupertino and Texcoco de Gante clubs. Pro Mujer is a micro bank that lends small amounts, primarily to women, to enable them to start businesses. While the funds are loaned to individuals, the women form small syndicates of 12-15 members, elect officers and support each other both in their business enterprises and in paying back their loans.



We witnessed the creation of a new syndicate and the group pay back process. We also visited two business sites created with Pro Mujer funds. The first was a glass factory where the woman and her family fabricate christmas ornaments and other products. There we also sampled a fermented beverage called Pulque that is made from the agave plant. The second was a confectionery where the woman and her family make candies and preserves that are sold in the local markets.



Our visit to Mexico coincided with one of their most important holiday celebrations, the anniversary of the Mexican revolution on November 20, 1910. This resulted in very heavy traffic in the D.F. but a very colorful parade in Texcoco.





After a rather late communal luncheon at the Texcoco club we boarded the bus for a trip to Acapulco, stopping for dinner at a delightful taco restaurant called La Tortuga Cucufata, in Cuernavaca. Ten hours after leaving Texcoco, at 3:00am on Friday morning, we arrived at our destination, the Fairmont Pierre Marques in Acapulco. Fortunately we did not have to assemble until 1:00pm that afteroon!



That afternoon, after a short stop for shopping in the Diana district of Acapulco, we arrived at the Acapulco City Hall where we assisted in the distribution of wheel chairs to local citizens. The wheel chairs were provided through a joint effort of the Rotary Clubs of Texcoco de Gante, Acapulco Icacos and Acapulco, A.C. and the Wheel Chair Foundation. A total of 65 chairs were distribute in Acapulco. We assisted with the distribution of 27 that afternoon and another three home deliveries on Saturday.



The event was capped off by a beach party at the hotel where we ate, drank, sang, and danced until midnight. While we "viejos" went off to bed, a contingent of "jovenes" went to the local disco where I understand they partied until 4:00am.

After a morning swim, and breakfast in the terrace restaurant, we boarded our bus for one last time for the ride to the Acapulco airport. There we experienced the most difficult time of all in saying goodbye to our wonderful friends and their families.

I can't wait to go back!

What's in a name?

I recall that when I was young it seemed that everyone had or used a name other than their given name. My uncles and aunts in particular had different and strange appellations. On my mother's side there were uncles - Beadie (Bill), Muggs (Allen) and Buster (Tony). Mom was Sis. On my father's side there were uncles (in Spanish "titos") - Paco (Frank) and Nino (Manuel) and aunts (in Spanish "titas") - Carmen (never called anything but Carmen), Maizie (Maria), Josie (Josefina) and Babs (Dolores). In fact, we had two tita Carmens, each of whom was married to a tito Frank. One was a Ribera, the other a Perregrina. My maternal grandmother (Mary) was called Maggie by her family. My paternal grandmother (Consuelo) was just 'uelita, which is a close as I could come to abuelita, or little grandmother.



Our family name is not really Ribera, but Rivera. I heard several tales about how that change came about. Here is the one that was most often repeated and is possibly true. Grandpa Ribera, Francisco, who died 10 years before I was born, was a skilled carpenter in Spain. When he first came to the U.S. in 1915 he worked on many of the fine homes in Portola Valley and Hillsborough. To take care of his sizeable family (7 kids) he also worked in the local cement quarry where he contracted lung disease that made him an invalid for the final years of his life. At the quarry they paid the workers in alphabetical order and the story is he changed the spelling of his name so that he would get paid before the other men named Rivera. Well, that's just one story.



Not well known outside the affected families is the manner in which many Spaniards came to California in the early part of the 20th century. Because of the strict quotas on immigration of undesirables from Southern Europe, including Spain and Italy, many rejected the arduous path through Ellis Island and came across the Pacific and through the Hawaiian Islands. At that time Hawaii was a U.S. territory. A family could indenture (contract) themselves to a Hawaiian plantation owner for five years to work in the cane fields. At the end of the indentured period they would (1) be free of their labor commitment and (2) have established residency, which would permit them to relocate to the mainland without going through immigration. I've met many Californians of Spanish ancestry whose families had that same experience.

Silver Lake

Well, we did it again. four days camping, three days fishing and no fish! This time we went to Plasse's Resort on Silver Lake, just south of Kirkwood Ski Resort on Rte 88. Our first time was last year, but earlier, like in June. That time we were near a creek and were harassed by mosquitos. This time we had a nice campsite adjacent to a granite field that gradually sloped upward.



We hadn't noticed when making our reservations that there would be a full moon during our stay. The locals told us that they don't even try to fish during the day when there is a full moon. Apparently the fish are able to dine all night and have no incentive to leave the cooler depths to search for food or foes during the heat of the day.



The Lake had dropped considerably from where it was last year. It was difficult to get in and out of the mooring area because in some places the water was only a foot deep. Fortunately my motor has a "low water" setting that allows me to manuever in water as shallow as 6 inches.



One reason we liked Plasse's the year before was because they have a restaurant that serves breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays. It is so pleasant to sit out on the deck in the early morning and have coffee and breakfast. We were really looking forward to that only to learn that, because the restaurant would be hosting the 159th annual BBQ, breakfast would not be served on Saturday. So, we had to make do with bagels, bananas and instant coffee. We did, however, get breakfast on the patio on Sunday.





Another thing that makes our camping/fishing trips so much fun is the wonderful people we meet out there. The group camping next to us consisted of a mother and four teenage boys. Two were hers and they each had a friend. She cooked everything on a single burner back packing stove! Even Mac and Cheese! Her husband came up on Saturday. He shared with us some apricot distillate that he had made at home. Talk about moonshine! That stuff would remove chrome off a Buick bumper! It did, however, go real well when added to Mike's Hard Lemonade.

Where the Boys Are

Holy cow, Batman, August is almost gone and there were several new posts I had intended to get up that are still in gestation. Let's start with the annual Roberts' Grandkids camping trip. Starting in 2006, Jim and I started taking his daughter Jamie and her two boys, Sam and Jack, along with a friend or friends on a four-day camping and fishing trip. The first year we went to Camanche Lake, near Ione, CA and took one friend. In 2007 we went to Collins Lake, near Marysville, CA and took two friends. This year we went to Lake Don Pedro, and took three friends.



Our regular fishing trips start out at 5:00am, but with a mother and five teen age boys, we found 8:00am to be a more reasonable departure time. The first stop was for breakfast in Oakdale at (naturally) the Oakdale cafe. Lake Don Pedro is only 30 minutes or so out of Oakdale, so we were setting up camp by noon. The granddads, Jim and I, set up the base camp, which includes the kitchen and cook areas. The boys and Jamie set up there camp adjacent to, but at a comfortable distance from ours.



Setting up the old guys sleeping area was very easy as last year we purchased some folding Camptime Roll-O-Cots that are custom made for the pickup truck bed. With the side windows up and good sleeping pads, we were very well set up.

The heat at Don Pedro was in the 100's when we arrived, and took a lot out of me. I could barely breathe and had to constantly rest. When we went to launch the boat around 1:00pm, we stopped the store and bought a six-pack. I took one for the boat and found out later that Jim had finished the carton before he got back to the camp!

The boys are maturing and don't spend much time in camp. There is the lure of the camp stores and the young ladies who hang out there and the swimming lagoon or the lake itself. The surface temperature was in the high 70's.



Jim and I do all the cooking, specializing in large portions of everything. Friday night's dinner was catfish, pork and beans, and and salad. Saturday night was chicken, hashbrowns and salad, and Sunday night was new york steaks, leftover hashbrowns cooked with onions and bell peppers and salad. Jim and I shared a salmon steak because we don't eat red meat and Jamie had a Barco burger because she's a vegetarian.

Every evening the boys came up with some kind of gooey dessert based on marshmallows and Hershey bars. One evening, one of the boys, who has Puerto Rican ancestors, made "banana boats." He slit open the banana skin and inserted some Hershey bar sections then placed the banana on the grate until the chocolate melted.

For entertainment we had our boombox and MP3 players. I think the boys were really surprised when I pulled mine out and even more surprised when they heard the music on my playlist! We tend to favor the pop music of the 50's and 60's, but I also have a respectable selection of Rock and Latin music.

One phenomenon that we experience regularly on these extended (4-day) weekend jaunts, is how quiet it gets on Sunday night after everyone (but us) has left for home. On Sunday night we were all gathered up at the boy's camp sight, having smores and chatting when out the dark came two smokey rangers with flashlights. They said they could hear us up at the Camp Store and we were disturbing the other campers! We mildly complained that there wasn't anyone to disturb and they said we weren't the only ones. They pointed down the hill to where Jim and I were set up (we had left the radio playing low) and said with the confidence that only career law enforcement officers can muster up, when we get through with you we're going to go down and shut them up too! I sheepishly informed them that "them" was also us and trudged down to the camp to shut off the radio.



We relearned an old lesson the hard way. Don't stand up when the boat is moving unless you have something to hang on to. We were docking the boat on the last day and Jim was standing up with the anchor in his hand. I had already dropped the kedge (the anchor that holds the stern off the shore), but dropped it too soon. The nose started to drift and without thinking I put on some power to bring the nose around. Jim wasn't ready (neither was I apparently) and fell into the boat and on the anchor. Fortunately he did not hit anything vital, like an artery, but unfortunately we did not have a first aid kit in the boat. He got a pretty significant gash, that we were able to treat when we got up to the camp. Another plus/minus was when he fell Jim busted my oldest boat seat. As a result I had to buy a new one, and now they all match!

The Three Amigos

This was our first fishing trip of the year to the Sierras. At the end of May we (Dan, Jim and I) went fishing at Bear River Resort. The resort is on the Lower Bear River reservoir, about 50 minutes northeast of Jackson on Hiway 88.



This was our first chance also to try out our new Tent Cots. We saw some campers using them last year at Bear River and I bought two this past winter. No assembly required. Just unfold and voila! Only problem is that if you use close up the vents and use the rain fly (we didn't need them on this trip), condensation can build up inside the compartment.




We trolled and fished from the banks, we used leadcore and top lined. We tried needle fish, apexes, kastmasters, powerbait and night crawlers. Nothing worked. Not even a nibble. The fishfinder showed fish in the lake, but all we caught were a couple of snags.

One reason we like the resort is the cafe. We stumble down there at 7:00am to get our morning coffee (decaf). And then have breakfast. The resort owner, John, has breakfast there every morning, as do some of the staff and some of the "regulars." They call it the "Board Meeting." It is a good group, but you have to be able give and take a joke or you won't survive very long!



As is typical of our fishing trips, we fished in the morning; had lunch and an nap, then fished again in the afternoon - if it wasn't too windy. As ususal, we ate very well.

Next month we're off to Plasse's Resort on Silver Lake.

On the Road Again

Mid-month, just before my 68th birthday, Mary-Ann and I loaded up the BMW and headed for the central California coastal city of Morro Bay. This is an annual trek that we take with my two oldest (long-term) friends, Jim Roberts and Dan Haggerty, and their wives, Janet and Elaine. The Northern and Southern California chapters of the Oldsmobile Club of America have a joint event at this time each year. We usually arrive on Friday, attend the car show and awards dinner on Saturday, and leave for home on Sunday. This year the Roberts stayed home because one of their dogs is unable to travel due to age. But we soldiered on anyway because this year Dan is the President of the Northern California Chapter.



We have been doing this as couples now for about five years, but I first started going with Jim and Dan almost twenty years ago. Dan has a 1949 Olds 88 with a super modified Mondello race engine. Back in 1958, while still in high school, Dan owned a similar, but much tamer, car. Back in the late 70's Jim, retired former owner of a collision (autobody repair) company, remodeled a 1956 Oldsmobile 88. Dan then acquired and modified the 1949. They then started going to local car events, such as the "Beach Street Revival" in Santa Cruz and the "Graffitti Night" event in Modesto. I began joining them in 1989.

On our first evening in town we try to have dinner at a top line restaurant. We dined this year at the Windows on the Water restaurant in the heart of Morro Bay. Next year I think we'll try the Papillon Bistro in Los Osos.

During the morning and afternoon we fellows stroll around the grounds of the Morro Bay Inn admiring the pristine visages and modifications of the classic automobiles. We drink our coffee (decaf) or beer (lite) and reminisce about the old days when those cars were new and we were young. The highlight of our day is a gourmet picnic on the terrace balcony overlooking Morro Bay. Jim and I usually take turns planning the menu and collecting the treats. This year it was my turn, even though the feast was attended only by Dan and I. The ladies, as is their custom, took off for the day on a shopping trip. This time they hit Cambria, East and West, and San Louis Obispo (SLO).

Ordinarily the Oldsmobiles are the only marque on display. However, this year, the Packard Club of California also chose the Inn at Morro Bay as a meeting place. While they did not have a "car show" per se, they were on display and were magnificent. Two things stand out about those cars. First, is how BIG they are, especially when compared to something like a Honda civic. Second, is the stunning craftsmanship that went into their manufacture. That craftsmanship used to be a hallmark of the American worker. Will we ever see its like again?

Well, I would share more, but what happens in Morro Bay, stays in Morro Bay!

VF-114 Executioners

I served in the U.S. Navy from July 1957 to March 1961. I enlisted right out of high school at the age of 17. After 9-10 weeks of "boot camp" in San Diego, I went to Airman school in Norman Oklahoma. That was an old Naval Air Station converted into a training center for all aviation ratings. It was the first "screening" process. Graduates, such as myself, went on to a technical training school. Anyone who failed two successive tests was sent directly to the fleet. I went next to Aviation Electronics School in Memphis, Tennessee. This was still 1957 and my first trip to the south. Raised in the egalitarian atmosphere of California, I was not at all prepared for what I witnessed there. Remember, while this was after Brown vs. Board of Education it was before the Civil Rights Act of 1965. Jim Crow was still very much alive in Memphis. Integration was only possible on the Naval Base and many of my "negro" shipmates preferred to stay on base rather than suffer the indignities heaped upon them by the local "citizens" they were sworn to protect.

After the first 6 weeks we were sorted into specialties. I went for Aviation Fire Control. No, I was not a fireman or fire fighter. I was a technician trained to maintain the highly complex, and classified electronic equipment that helped the fighter pilot put his aircraft on target, i.e., to control the armaments (guns, missles, rockets) "fired" by the pilot. Primarily search and tracking radar and related items.

Upon graduation in May, 1958, I was assigned to FITRON 114, Fighter Squadron 114 (VF-114) at Miramar Naval Air Station, just north of San Diego. Before joining my squadron, which was at that time deployed on the Shangri-La (CVA-38), I was temporarily assigned to the Replacement Air Group (RAG) in Fitron 121 (VF-121). Two of us AQAN's showed up on the same day, Dave Fly (yep, his real name) and I. Dave and I became close friends through the rest of our tour in the Navy. Since they didn't know what to do with us at first, they sent us over to North Island to a radar school. It turned out that it was on the same equipment that was taught in the AQ school in Memphis. We coasted through and really enjoyed ourselves, with several side trips to Tiajuana. After the school they sent us back to VF-121 and I went on night shift. This was where I saw the aircraft I would maintain for the next 3 years for the first time and was introduced to squadron life, including flight line duties. As airmen (E3) non-rated pukes, we got a lot of shit details. Fortunately we had taken the 3rd class exam before leaving Memphis and got our promotions to PO3 before the squadron returned in October.

All the veterans went on leave as soon as the ship hit port, leaving the unloading to the new guys. By then there were probably 30 of us, all new to the fleet Navy, the squadron and each other. All different ratings, too. Mechanics, metalsmiths, electricians, ordnancemen (BB stackers), radio men, parachute riggers, etc. A squadron is a self-contained operational unit, so we even had our own medics, cooks, yeomen (secretaries), personnelmen, etc. Of course at that time it was all MEN.

Carrier PBS

I watched all 10 episodes of the recent PBS Special "Carrier." I enjoyed it on so many different levels. As a former "airdale," an appellation attached to anyone in an aviation rating, I identified personally with many of the activities - from manning the rail, to provisioning, to moving and tying down aircraft on the flight deck, "liberty" in foreign ports, etc. I could not, however, relate at all to the presence of women on board, in the ratings and flying the aircraft. Not that they haven't earned that right, just that it didn't happen in my day.

I also enjoyed the human interest angle and the continuous stories of the individuals. This was obviously NOT a Navy PR film, as they would not have shown the negative aspects, such as the sailor who consciously and intentionally played out being a racist so he could get sent home. The story of the young sailor who was expecting his first child with a girl he hardly knew, was particularly poignant. He wanted to do the right thing, and in the end, she wanted someone else to help her raise their child. I would be interested in seeing how that worked out for him eventually.

I enjoyed the points of view expressed by officers and enlisted regarding the U.S. presence in Iraq. Personally, I was opposed to the INVASION in the first place and abhor the OCCUPATION even more. But I respect the maturity with which both proponents and opponents serving in the Navy expressed their views.

Worthwhile viewing.

Oldies But Goodies

Once a month my best friend, Jim Roberts, and I go off on a four-day camping/fishing trip. We began this routine about 3 years ago when Jim retired from the daily grind of running a collision repair (Body Shop) business. While we always have a good time setting up camp, planning and preparing our gourmet meals, and reminiscing about old times, our pescartory success has not always been remarkable. Our most recent trip, this past weekend, was to the Lake Nacimiento Resort, near Paso Robles.

We arrived about 9:30 a.m. and set up camp. After lunch we took our obligatory naps and later went out on the lake to test the fishing. Despite the fact that we didn't even get a nibble, we had grilled salmon steaks, palenta with meatless marinara sauce, and tossed salad for dinner. We generally consume a 36 pack of light beer over the 4 days and a box (yep!) of white wine. Usually switching from beer to wine in the evening.

We used to pitch a tent and sleep on a large air mattress, which invariably would be flat by morning. We now have portable cots that are custom made to fit in the camper shell, which makes getting into and out of bed much easier - and we are less likely to disturb each other when we have to get up in the evening, which invariably we have to do.

Lake Nacimiento is primarily a bass lake, and from all accounts one of the better bass fisheries in the State. Unfortunately, we are trout fisherman (or wannabes) and did not have either the right equipment or the right technique to entice those critters. We did, however, meet some great people, which we invariably do on these trips, and got tips and suggestions and even some lures guaranteed to knock the bass dead. Nope, didn't happen.

On Saturday we didn't even bother going out at all. Sunday we fished in the morning, but it was way too hot in the afternoon. A slight aside. Every year we take Jim's daughter and her two teen-aged sons, along with two of their friends on one of these trips. This year we were planning to take them to Nacimiento. So one purpose of this trip was to check out the camp site, bike trails, recreational facilities, etc. We were not impressed. In fact we almost immediately resolved to find another location. They failed to tell us at the time we made the group reservation that the group camp site was "remote." Remote, as in 2 miles from all the amenities, including the store and swimming pool. Remote, as in a canyon with a road so steep we could barely drive up it and which I doubt Lance Armstrong could have ridden up on a bike. The clincher was when our camping neighbors told us the summer temperatures are in the 100-105 degree range. We are now planning to go to Lake Don Pedro in the lower Sierras on the approach to Yosemite.

A fellow came by our campsite on Sunday night and asked when we were leaving. We told him we were going home the next day. Turns out he camps there during the week and we had the best site for TV reception! The next morning, when we arose at 5:30am, there he was, with his motor home, his boat and his wife waiting for us to leave! All the while we were packing up he was moving his stuff into the campsite and keeping up a running soliloquy about viagra, his prostate, and as many stupid jokes as he could remember. We meet some strange people fishing.

Blow Ye Winds Hiyo!

Saturday, April 19, was consumed with an all day bike ride in and around Gilroy, CA. Three of us senior citizens, high school buddies who have known each other for over 50 years, rode in the 31th annual Tierra Bella Century event. We spent 5 hours and 15 minutes in the saddle to cover 64.5 miles, averaging just under 12.5 miles per hour. The weather was agreeable, temperature-wise, but we experienced significant head winds on two legs of the figure 8 route.

Starting at Gavilan Community College, we crossed Hiway 101 and rode up to the CDF Firehouse on Gilroy Hot Springs Road. That little 16.5 mile jaunt took almost 2 hours because of the climbing. After a snack and potty break, we looped around Canada road, went back across Hiway 101, then looped around Uvas Reservoir. There were two more food, drink and comfort breaks on the way. On the final leg, a long, level, straight ride down Santa Teresa Blvd. back to Gavilan, we had a head wind all the way.

As I dismounted from my bike in the parking lot, I considered that I could not have turned that crank one more turn! Arriving home, and after a long hot shower, Mary-Ann (spouse/friend/partner/lover) and I enjoyed a pizza, which, considering the calories burned, I enjoyed without any guilt!

No Ordinary Time

Just finished a great (though long) read, "No Ordinary Time," by Doris Kearns Goodwin. Subtitled, "Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt: The home front in World War II." I was born at the exact time that the book begins, May 1940. I have vague personal recollections of the war time, mostly the awareness of separation from my parents and living with my paternal grandmother. In addition, of course I learned about some of the historical matters in school while they were still pretty fresh. What I did not recall was how much our country was still cursed by the legacy of slavery (this was pre-Brown vs. Board of Education) and how pervasive racial, ethnic and religious bigotry was in the land of the free and home of the brave.

Since finishing the book, which I heartily recommend, I have been pondering the current state of affairs of our nation vis a vis the world and how successive administrations have squandered all the good will and esteem in which we were universally held at the end of the war. At that time, we were the most powerful nation on earth, militarily, economically, and our education and health delivery systems were second to none. We had a reputation for opposing evil and supporting the weak.

Contrast that with the present situation. While still strong militarily, at least in arms if not troops, we have become a 2nd rate economy and are in hock up to our eyeballs to foreign investors. Our education, health and transportation systems are in shambles and we are held hostage to the oil cartels. Our international reputation and standing has been significantly eroded because of our support of oppressive regimes such as Pakistan and Columbia, the overthrow of democratically elected governments such as Allende in Chile, the slaughter of millions of Asians in Southeast Asia in the Viet Nam war and now, the unprovoked invasion and 5 year occupation of a sovereign nation, headed by a third-rate, effectively powerless dictator. We don't pick fights with tough opponents or countries that can fight back, but we have no qualms about smashing a fly with a sledge hammer, just because we can. In place of the former universal admiration and goodwill we enjoyed at the end of the war, we now face universal scorn and fear.

It's too simplistic to place the blame on the presidents who are or were sitting at the time of these disgraceful acts. But just who is responsible? Who acts for we the people in a way that makes me want to turn away in shame?

George Bernard Shaw said "It is said that every people has the Government it deserves. It is more to the point that every Government has the electorate it deserves; for the orators of the front bench can edify or debauch an ignorant electorate at will. Thus our democracy moves in a vicious circle of reciprocal worthiness and unworthiness."

So, as Pogo (an old cartoon character) used to say, "We have met the enemy, and it's us." The Government is us. We elect it, we respond to its actions favorably or unfavorably, and they respond in kind. So to change the government or how the government acts, we have to change ourselves. A government that does not abide the will of the majority is short lived in a democracy or oppressive in an autocracy.

I would like to see the pendulum swing back the other way, and have our country once again admired and admirable. If that doesn't occur in my lifetime, it won't really matter to me, but it would be nice for my kids and grandkids.

Welcome to the United States of Moronia

H.L Mencken wrote as follows about the difficulties of good men reaching national office when such campaigns must necessarily be conducted remotely:

"The larger the mob, the harder the test. In small areas, before small electorates, a first-rate man occasionally fights his way through, carrying even the mob with him by force of his personality. But when the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most easily adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.

"The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron." (Baltimore Evening Sun, July 26, 1920)

Took only 80 years to get there.

Cooking for two

I don't recall just when it began, but I am the principal cook in our family of two. It is incumbent on me to decide what we're having, when it will be served, and, finally, to prepare it. In self defense I have come up with some standards and some "quick fix" meals that are our staples.

BAKED CHICKEN BREASTS WITH SHERRY AND CHUTNEY

I get frozen skinless, boneless, chicken breasts at CostCo. They come individually wrapped, and it seems like they will keep forever. I place three breasts, still frozen in a pyrex (oven-proof glass) dish. I add a 1/4 cup of cooking (cheap) sherry and place a teaspoon of Sharwood's Major Grey Chutney on each breast. Cover with aluminum foil and place in an oven set to 350 degrees. I never preheat. Cook for 50 minutes to 1 hour depending on the size of the breasts. After 1/2 hour, turn the breasts once. At this time I usually put on some rice (1 cup water, pinch of salt, dash of olive oil, bring to a boil, add 1/2 cup rice, cover and simmer for 22 minutes). During the last five minutes, I may also steam some vegetables, usually broccoli, asparagus, or zuccini. Sometimes I toss some raisins in with rice before covering.

FAJITAS DE JOSE

About a day later, I use the left over chicken in a "single pot" dish of my own concoction. In a large skillet I saute one chopped onion, one chopped green bell pepper and one chopped red bell pepper in 3 tbsps of canola oil. I season the vegetables with Mexican seasoning. When the onions are transparent and the bell peppers limp, I add the left over chicken, sliced as thin as possible. I try to heat each slice. If the pan is too dry, I may add some more oil. While the chicken and vegetables simmer, I put a couple of flour tortillas between paper towels and warm them in the microwave (45-50 seconds on high for 3 tortillas). A serving consists of a tortilla, salsa, the chicken vegetable mix, cheese, sour cream and jalapenos (optional). You can roll the fajitas up in the tortilla and eat like a taco, or layer the fixings on a tortilla like a tostada.

GRUEL

Ever have one of those nights when you just don't feel like cooking? Maybe it has gotten late and you don't want to go to the trouble of dragging out pots and pans and fixings. I evolved a dish that our family calls "gruel" after the famous dish from Oliver Twist.

I start with a can of Campbell's Chicken with rice condensed soup. Place in a pot and add one can of water. Bring to a boil, then add 1/2 cup of rice. If we didn't finish the fajitas the previous night, then what's left also goes in the pot. Or you can add a small can of chicken. Simmer for 22 minutes and serve. You can garnish with parmesan cheese (the powdery not shredded kind), jalapenos, or (ugh) ketchup.

JOE'S CHILI POT

Here's one for the weekend using a slow cooker (crockpot). Just toss these ingredients into the crock pot: one jar of your favorite salsa, two cans of diced tomatoes (drained) and two cans of kidney beans (drained). I think the can size is 15 oz. but each one is about two cups. Turn the slow cooker on low. Brown a package (1.25 pounds) of lean ground turkey. You can use beef if you prefer, but the turkey helps to keep the calories down. You can season the cooked turkey with Mexican seasoning, or toss in a packet of Shilling (or other) chili mix. Careful though, depending on the heat in your salsa, if you add too much it might not be palatable. Drain off any liquid and add the turkey to the slow cooker. Cook on low for three hours or on high for one hour and low for one hour. Serve with graded cheese, sour cream and tortillas or corn bread.

Summer Soldiers and Sunshine Patriots

I regularly correspond with a former high school sweetheart (we are both deep into our 60's now). She frequently forwards to me email she has received from others. From time to time I have taken issue with some of the sentiments expressed (generally very conservative, preachy, flag-waving stuff). In a recent email she forwarded me an allegedly true story of a K-9 (soldier dog) who had dramatically rescued a squad of soldiers and received a Congressional Medal of Honor. My first reaction was to google the story, find the report to be a hoax, and send an note back to my friend. She apologized and said she forgot that she needed to review such matters to make sure she did not send me anything political or patriotic.

I sensed that I was offended by that remark, what, me not patriotic? I wore a uniform of the US for four years, my father served before me, and a son and grandson after me. I stand (though do not participate in) the pledge of allegiance to the flag (but that is another story). I feel that I am very patriotic, although I am 100% opposed to the present administration's unwarranted attack on and occupation of another soverign nation that did not attack us first.

I began to wonder what makes a person a patriot and can someone, like myself, who is opposed to the unjustified use of military force, still be a patriot. Once again I turned to Thomas Paine, this time in one of his pamphlets The Crisis, written during the War of Independence. His immortal words beginning "These are the times that try men's souls. . . " He talked of summer soldiers and sunshine patriots, he meant people who talked a good fight, but could not be counted on when the going gets rough. So does that equal "my country, right or wrong, my country;" or "stay the course" even if the course was ill-advised in the first place?

I found this article, Beware the Sunshine Patriot, by Steve Kubby, written shortly after 9/11. The article rings true and parallels my take on patriotism and the duty to stand for the highest ideals on which our country was founded.

Freethinking

Watched a great show on Bill Moyer's Journal the other night. One of his guests, Susan Jacoby, was reviewing her latest book about the dumbing down of America. During the conversation with Bill, they also discussed her earlier book, "The Freethinkers." The book is basically about the manner in which the U.S. as a nation was created a secular government. That means (1) no oaths need be sworn nor faith professed to hold any office and (2) that the government may not establish (or support) nor prohibit the practice of any religion. The battle between those professing religious beliefs (primarily Protestant in the early days, Catholics in the first half of the last century, and evangelical christians in the modern era) and those identifying themselves as "freethinkers" (deists, unitarians, agnostics, athiests or simply "non-believers) has been going on since the country was founded. Most people will readily acknowledge that the majority of citizens in the U.S. identify with some adjunct of the Christian faith. Thus, in truth, we could be said to be a "nation of Christians." But Jacoby holds, and I agree, we are not and never have been a "Christian nation."

Reading Jacoby, I was reminded of the writings of Thomas Paine, one of the authors of the Declaration of Independence, The Constitution and Bill of Rights. Paine was also a "freethinker" and wrote a treatise entitled "The Age of Reason," that provides the rationale for his beliefs that, while the universe and all that man has come to know of it argues for an unknowable creator, that all religion is man-made and many of its tenants unsupportable by reason.

I was surprised to learn that such thinking was really quite prevalent in the world at that time, and even more surprised when I learned how this founder of the greatest democratic experiment know to man was vilified, falsely accused of the most heinous crimes and almost lost to history by the hysterical rantings of so-called religious minded people.

This has created in me a new awareness of the intentionally secular nature of our nation and the insidious encroachment upon our freedom to believe OR NOT as fits our conscience by organizations who would damn all who do not conform to their image of a "right thinking" person, which to them means only someone who thinks as they do.

Kicking Off 2008

This should be the best year ever. If not, won't be for lack of trying. First resolution or goal is to ride (bicycle) at least 50 miles a week. Will probably be slow going until it warms up a little more, but an easily attainable goal. Added incentive is my new Lemond Zurich (acquired just before Christmas). My favorite bike shop, Chain Reaction, made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

Next up, learn to play the guitar. Our local independent music store had a going out of business sale and I couldn't resist picking up a new Yamaha Acoustic guitar for a substantial discount off the retail price. I tried several times in the past, but never seemed to be able to sustain it. What's different this time? Well, to start, all the great online lessons, videos at YouTube, beginner and genre lessons at various sites including videos and mp3 files. My current favorite is Guitar Noise.

Next, polish up my Spanish, including (I hope) taking a two-week trip to Mexico or Central America for full immersion language classes. At present I am reviewing my grammars, listening to Spanish radio (we have several AM and FM stations here in the Silicon Valley) and my secret pleasure, watching telenovelas in Spanish. At first I was totally lost. Now, I catch about 60% of the dialogue (the "acting" communicates most of the content). I found a great site that gives daily recaps in English of the prior nights programs Caray, Caray.

And lastly, improve my fishing results. After a 40 year lay off while raising the family and becoming a success (LOL), I recently began camping and fishing with an old friend from high school who recently retired. For the past two years we have gone camping and fishing for almost one long weekend (4 days) each month. We avoid the real cold and wet months of November - February, although we do take day trips to the coast (Sunset or Manresa Beaches) for surf fishing. I have all the necessary gear and equipment, mostly purchased from Cabela's, but my results have been disappointing. This year I will keep a record, with pictures of our catches.

My other interests include reading. In fiction, I prefer court room or police procedurals, historical novels, and the classics. For non-fiction, mostly politics, biography or history. Married to a retired librarian, I get the 411 on the latest best sellers and must-reads. Just finished "The Distand Land of My Father" by Bo Caldwell. She is a skilled writer, with an incredible ability to invoke atmosphere and creates wonderful characters.

The best laid plans, etc. notwithstanding, let's see where this takes us!