New Year's Steep and Rocky Path

Honolulu Star-Advertiser

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams."

– Thoreau

Copyright © 2022

by Ralph F. Couey

We measure our journey in one of two ways, by distance and by time. Every earth year, our world completes an orbit around its parent star. In that time, the planet actually travels 584 million miles. But, our sun is orbiting the supermassive black hole at the center of the Milky Way galaxy. In one of our years, that's about 4.5 billion miles. And if that weren't enough, our galaxy is racing through space, along with all the other galaxies, at about 1.3 million miles per hour. Since there's no fixed reference point in space, that actual distance traveled is kinda fuzzy. So, even when we stay at home, we're still on a journey.  

But New Year's is about a journey in time, 12 months of trial, trauma, joy, and hilarity. When we reach this day on the calendar, we are anxious to put the past behind us. This is especially true given what's been going on. Three years of pandemic misery merely leads the list of the existential load we've been carrying. It's a day when we try to resolve to change the things that gifted us so much angst. That can be any number of things from weight and physical condition, patterns of life, better choices. But the bottom line is a fresh start. New Years provides a convenient launch point for this new mission. In reality, a person can make a fresh start on July 4th just as easily, but who ever heard of Independence Day Resolutions?

Author Sara Ban Breathnach wrote,

"New Year's Day. A fresh start. A new chapter in life waiting to be written. New questions to be asked, embraced, and loved. Answers to be discovered and then lived in this transformative year of delight and self-discovery. Today carve out a quiet interlude for yourself in which to dream, pen in hand. Only dreams give birth to change."

Dreams are valuable. They are the scratch pads for the designs of your life. But dreams are useless unless a person is willing to undertake real change. You know, actually work on it. To make any kind of change we have to realize that what we need and what we need to leave behind. We have things in our lives that shouldn't be there and need to go. The toughest thing is coming to grips with the reality that there are changes we don't want to make, but restrict or block our ability to grow beyond our past. We have to be willing to take out our own garbage.

Vows Fulfilled

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

Christmas 2022 was a curious sort of event for us.  No visitors, and our only link to family was electronic.  Both Cheryl and I had some stressful days, she doing surgery, and myself at work dealing with a powerful Pacific storm that caused all kinds of havoc across the state.  And a dead rat that chose to expire and deteriorate beneath the deckplates of my workstation. 

I had two extra days off this past week while contractors were installing the rest of the new windows.  All the leaky, drafty jalousies are gone, save one.  Our home is as energy efficient as its ever been in its 60-plus year lifespan.  We didn't put much effort in decorating this year.  We bought a new artificial tree and had it lit almost every evening.  Cheryl made sure it was on when I returned home at work, a wonderful site at oh-dark-thirty.  But the rest of the ornaments stayed in their boxes.  With everything else going on, it was just too hard.

We've been watching, fascinated as the storms of December have swept across the country.  We had our share of snow yards deep in the mainland, and for those of you who were digging your way out, we felt your pain.  Here, it's winter, the time of year when powerful storms sweep out of the North Pacific dumping feet of rain blown by dangerous winds.  Even when the storms don't make it here, their effect is felt in enormous surges of waves that batter the north and east shores of our islands.  I remember the first time I witnessed 50-foot waves crashing onto a beach.  I was speechless; in awe of the ocean's power.  But it's also the time of year when the humidity is notably lower, and the temperatures become very pleasant.  In terms of comfort, it is the most wonderful time of the year.

The one thing about Christmas, the one universal truth is that people are better to each other.  Almost everyone has a smile and cheerful word, and kindness and generosity emerges from wherever it hides during the rest of the year.  The season brings out the best in people, especially in their personal relationships.  Families gather to share, to eat, to talk and laugh.  They catch up on everything that has happened during their time apart.  And if they can keep their politics firmly locked away, it can be a joyous and memorable time.

Pele's Dance on Hawai'i Island

 

Mauna Loa (USGS)

Copyright © 2022

by Ralph F. Couey

It was a relatively quiet Sunday evening.  There was no weather to speak of, no other event on-going, though we had been monitoring the earthquake activity at Mauna Loa.  About 10:30 PM, the monitor we have for the California Integrated Seismic Network sounded it's familiar alarm.  CISN monitors earthquake activity around the world, and sends us alerts, which happens several times during a watch.  Most people don't know what a restless planet we live on.  If an earthquake larger than magnitude 6.5 occurs anywhere within the Pacific Basin, we go to a higher alert posture until the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center evaluates the incident in case a tsunami was generated.

Local earthquakes are a different matter.  The Big Island, Hawai'i, is home to no less than four active volcanoes.  Mauna Kea, where all the expensive telescopes are, Hualalai, Kilauea, and Mauna Loa.  There is also an active volcano on Maui, called Haleakala, and one offshore of the Big Island, Loihi. This one is an undersea volcano which will break the sea surface in about 100,000 years.  All of the activity has been on the Big Island.  Kilauea has been erupting since September 29th of last year, the effused lava confined to the summit caldera.  

But the Big Island is a special case.  A strong enough earthquake might break loose the southeast flank of the island and send the Manhattan-sized mass sliding into the ocean, generating a tsunami. So, anything north of magnitude 3.5 gets our attention.  On the night in question, the first quake, a magnitude 4.5 came in at about 10:55 PM.  PTWC assessed almost immediately that there was no tsunami threat.  Then about an hour later, another earthquake rumbled, this one a magnitude 4.1.  Shortly after that, we received a telephone call from the island's Civil Defense, reporting that Mauna Loa was erupting.  

Although my watch team was due to leave at midnight, we stayed to help the midnight crew handle things.  It was a long night, as we didn't leave until things finally calmed to a manageable level at 4:45 AM.  The state Emergency Operations Center, an old artillery bunker in Diamond Head crater, went to full activation, which is where we've been since.  Sunday will mark two weeks since the eruption started.  At first, the eruption was confined to the summit caldera.  The next day, the eruption moved into the northeast rift zone, probably the safest direction.

The Eternal Music of the Moonlight

Piano Sonata No. 14

Ludwig van Beethoven

AKA "Moonlight"

 Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

I've been around classical music for most of my life, introduced to by my father who was a big fan of Beethoven. This was the music we listened to, at least until the Beatles showed up.  Later on, my activities in band and orchestra through high school and college provided exposure to the genre through the performance side.  There have been several pieces that I still enjoy listening to, such as Beethoven's 5th and 9th, Holst's "The Planets," Kachaturian's "Gayne Ballet Suite," and the last 5 minutes of Mahler's "Resurrection" particularly the performance of the Simon Bolivar Youth Symphony conducted by Gustavo Dudamel (Resurrection Proms) at the 2011 BBC Proms, a concert series featuring youth symphonies and choirs.  I never tire of listening to the beauty and power of that orchestra and choir putting forth with that special energy that uniquely belongs to the young.  And the audience responding in kind with a long, cheering, ovation.  Towards the end, the mezzo soprano Anna Larssen, is trying to keep her emotions under control, at one point, clenching her fist.  But by the end, she is openly in tears.  It never fails to move me.  But that's what great music is supposed to do, to reach into the soul and change you. 

In 1801, Ludwig van Beethoven wrote a three-movement piece he called "Quasi una fantasia" (like a fantasy).  A year later, he dedicated the composition to he pupil, the Countess Giulietta Guicciardi.  The Countess was, by all accounts, a great beauty and through the time he taught her, he fell in love.  He later wrote a 10-page love letter (never sent) the inspiration of which some historians attribute to the Countess.

In structure, the piece is a subdued melody articulated by seemingly endless arpeggios. It is played quietly; reflectively.  Variations in tempo enhance the passion written into the phrases.  "Moonlight," the sobriquet it is universally known by, was actually attributed to the piece five years after Beethoven's death by a critic and poet Ludwig Rellstab.  He described the first movement as moonlight shining on Lake Lucerne in Central Switzerland.   Within 10 years, it was known by almost everyone as the Moonlight Sonata.

Moonlight had a powerful effect on listeners, and continues to have today.  French composer Hector Berlioz described it as "one of those poems that human language does not know how to qualify."

Sunrise, Sunset, and Doves

 "Every sunrise gives you a new beginning and a new ending.

Let this morning be a new beginning.  It's an opportunity

 to enjoy life, breathe freely, think, and love.

Be grateful for this beautiful day."

--Norton Juster 

Copyright © 2022

Image and written content 

except cited quotation

By Ralph F. Couey

There was a time when I embraced complexities, a time when nothing entertained me more than looking for the one loose thread that would undo the entire suit.  A lot of what I did in the Intelligence Community involved the same kind of process.  Behind every "what" was a "why," and the "why" was important because it explained the "what."  The truth thus sought secreted itself beneath layers of misdirection and falsehood.  In peeling back the voluminous layers, that nugget revealed itself in tiny pieces, or flashes of inspiration and insight.  It was a deeply satisfying kind of life.

Age slows us down, not only physically but mentally as well.  In trying to replicate the past, I find now that the only truth revealed is how tired my brain has become.  This is part of life, something that has to be accepted and dealt with as the years pile up.  

I still work, a job that requires the exercise of intellect and memory, though certainly not to the degree as in the past.  I find that in my non-work related pursuits that I gravitate towards less taxing activities.

I read a lot, mostly history, science, and political science.  I've always "yearned to learn" and the desire to know something can overtake me at the oddest moments.  Modern technology makes such a quest fairly fast and informative, so much better than before when the desire to learn something usually meant a trip to a library or a consult with the family encyclopedias, though by the time we received them, they were hopelessly out of date.  But outside of that, I find myself finding peace and fulfillment in far simpler pursuits.  

I work inside a dormant volcano which sits at the opposite end of the island upon which we live, and that means commuting.  Traffic has been bad and getting worse here on O'ahu, so I leave earlier than absolutely necessary, thus allowing time for the unexpected freeway snarl.  Most days, however, I get there early and rather than show up too soon, I take a little time for myself.

Catching Up

 Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

Image and written content

The English monarchy has a very long history, some 1,400 years if you go back to the Kings of Wessex.  In that time there has been 65 monarchs who have sat on the throne.  This past week, Elizabeth passed from this life after 95 years, 70 of them as Queen.  Nobody over that nearly a millennia and a half ruled for anywhere near that long.  

She assumed the throne at 25, after the death of her father.  Winston Churchill doubted her abilities, thought she was far too young for such daunting responsibilities.  For such an eminent statesman, it was a rare misjudgment.  Not only did she prove equal to the challenge, she embraced her responsibility to serve the people, her subjects, and the country.  Her strength, intelligence and equanimity in the face of all that the country and her family have endured, earned the respect of the entire world.  On the day of her passing, I could here the soft footsteps which marked the passage of history.  

Charles is now King, but he has a past that has caused a lot of grief.  The death of Diana was a personal loss for millions, and the stories that emerged of his treatment of her painted a dark picture, indeed.  An air of uncertainty hangs over the Royal Family.  Elizabeth was the glue that held them together through scandal after scandal.  

And now, she is gone.

It remains to be seen if her successors can recapture the grace, strength, and respect that was her enduring legacy.

******

We have watched as the mainland has been baked and broiled this summer.  Triple-digit temperatures have been visited on nearly the entire 50 states, creating an unprecedented drain on electricity.  In addition, most of the western states are dealing with extensive and serious drought conditions.  Winter, the time when snowfall is supposed to replenish water sources, has not produced the snowfall required.  There is real concern that these states could run completely dry by the end of this decade.  The future of this region, and the tens of millions who live there, now hangs in the balance.  There is no man-made solution in the offing.  As the history of the Dust Bowl years recalls, sometimes for unknown reasons, nature just turns off the spigot.  All we can do is wait for the rains to return.

******

On a happier note, for nearly three scintillating weeks, we had grandchildren in the house, as our son's family flew in from Virginia for a visit.  Our niece got married, which sparked the reason for the visit.  It was a great reunion, full of fun, laughter, and love.  I managed to take some time off and went with them as they made almost daily visits to the beaches here in O'ahu.  It was a time for us as grandparents to embrace the unrelenting passage of time reflected in their growth.  I know most grandparents think their grandchildren are the loveliest, smartest, and most talented in the world.  With all respect to our peers, ours actually are.

Missing the Music and the Joy

 

"Music washes away from the soul

the dust of everyday life."

-- Berthold Auerbach

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

There were many things that ended up being casualties of the Pandemic, like normal life for instance.  But while most communities have started that long, slow journey back, there were some losses.  

There were a lot of things I used to do before this thing started, to which some I've returned.  Medical facilities are still requiring masks, but everywhere else, its become optional.  I still feel a sense of hesitation before entering WalMart, automatically reaching into my pockets for a mask.  The variants are still raging, and there are still people getting sick, even the completely vaccinated and boosted.  But for most of us, I think we're so exhausted by the whole thing that it's no longer the front-and-center attention grabber that it once was.

The task of putting our lives back together goes on.  Vacations are now being planned and taken.  People gather in large crowds without a second thought.  Businesses are getting snippy about getting people back from working in pajamas to being present in the workplace.  Zoom, once a novelty, is now mainstream, along with all the other video meeting tools.  So, there has been a kind of paradigm shift, one that might change the way we do business in the future.

One of the casualties for me was the Irish Music sessions.  Twice a month, I would gather with a lively group of very talented musicians for about 3 hours to play along with their encyclopedic knowledge of traditional music.  Those halted when the shutdowns began to happen.  This had become one of the highlights of my month, I labored long and hard on my Bodhran (a frame drum) hoping to at least not gum up the works.  I also sang occasionally, though I had to use lyric sheets as I suffer from CRS.  (Can't Remember Songs.)  Still, they were a patient lot as they educated me on the music and the session rules.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  Over time, it became a highlight in my life.  I always looked forward to going and I went when ever I could.  Losing that little joy kinda made the Pandemic a little darker.

The Best Kind of Trip

 

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

We've lived in Honolulu now for about three-and-a-half years, both of us working at jobs that at times test the stamina of that proverbial last nerve.  While we've taken time off now and then, we really haven't taken what one could term a vacation.  A fellow named Earl Wilson called it "what you take when you can no longer take what you've been taking."  Well, that was us.  We were both stressed, and also depressed and sad.  What sparked the idea for this trip was a video that popped up on a social media feed of our oldest granddaughter at age three singing "Away in a Manger" at church.  It was so cute, no shyness, just belting out the carol.  

That girl starts driving soon.

Time was getting away from us.  So, we booked the trip in late February, scoring an incredible deal on first class tickets, something we'd never done before. The date of departure was May 21st, and it seemed like the days crawled past waiting to leave.  But finally we found ourselves at Honolulu International waiting to get on the red-eye.

The trip east was broken into three legs, first one to Phoenix, the second one to Charlotte, the third into Dulles International in the Virginia 'burbs of DC.  We got down to baggage claim, and lo and behold, our bags were the first ones off.  Our grandchildren came running into the terminal and right into our arms., hugs for which we'd ached so much   It was a joyous reunion.

Of course, they had all grown since we saw them last summer.  That's the thing with children.  They're always changing.  and if you turn your back for a seeming instant, all of a sudden they're all grown up.  

The relationship between grandparents and grandkids is, in it's own way, transcendent. In the autumn of our years they become as radiant as the sun, and more precious than gold.  They are so completely full of life and love.  Since even a visit of 16 days flies by too fast, we had to crowd a whole lot of living into that time.  We still found time to spend with each one, coming face-to-face with how much they've grown.  

Diana, the erstwhile carol singer, is now 15.  She is quiet and soft spoken, but her thoughts emerge with so much wisdom for one so young.  Her award-winning violin playing is masterful, but as she told me, she wants to do everything.  This is stated quietly, but in her voice can be heard the steel of ambition.  She is courageous enough to try every dream she might have, and knows that dreams take work for which she seems to have an unending capacity.  She also plays a great piano, does artistic sketches so real they seem to leap off the paper.  She is involved in competitive swimming, and is good at it.  Oh, and she's also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, bad news for any potential suitors.  If she would ever have time for them.  Yeah, she's busy.

Seasons, and the Passage of Time

This has nothing to do with the post.  It's just another pretty sunset.

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

For most of my life, the passage of time was marked by the passing of seasons.  Spring, Summer, Fall, and Autumn were distinctly different. I grew up in Kansas City where the range of temperatures over a year could, and did vary by as much as 120°.  There was a sense of anticipation as a new season approached, knowing things were going to be different.  Every three months, a new reality asserted itself.

I've lived in a lot of places in America, and have planted my foot in 32 different countries, and been cut by Siberian winds and baked under a Saharan sun.  And I treasured those experiences.

Having moved to Hawai'i...four years ago? (Where'd the time go???) I've had to get used to a new normal.  The climate here has been described as an eternal summer, and there's some truth to that.  The difference  between the average high temperatures from January to July is only six degrees.  The difference is the angle of the sun.  We're 1,600 miles closer to the equator so the sun's rays are far more direct.  Tourists regularly fail to recognize this, incurring agonizing cases of sunburn.  Also, the trade winds, blowing out of the northeast, can have a mediating effect on one's comfort.  But on those days in July and August when the winds die, the humidity soars, and the sun is at it's most ferocious, it's every bit as uncomfortable at 90° as a 105° day is in Missouri.  

Still, you find a way to adjust.  Our bodies respond over time by opening the skin pores to enhance cooling.  This does make the hot days marginally less oppressive.  But it also takes away any resistance to cold.  In the winter, temperatures here can sink down to the low 60's and if your body has shifted into tropical mode, that feels distinctly chilly.  It's hard for me because I remember that 65° was my climate wheelhouse.  Now, I'm reaching for a hoodie.

There are other seasonal differences.  It rains more in winter here, and that is the time of year when the giant storm systems raging in the Gulf of Alaska will generate dangerously high surf.  It's not unusual to see 50 foot waves pounding in along the north shores. It's an awesome thing to witness, as long as you do it from a safe distance.  I remember one evening in Waikiki hearing a young Dad and his son as they walked and talked along the sidewalk.  Suddenly the son stopped and listened.  He could hear the surf breaking on the beach, and he turned to his Dad and asked, "Don't they turn the ocean off after dark?"

Still, even living here, I miss the turn of the seasons.  Autumn was my favorite.  After enduring the heat and humidity of summer, when the third week of September came, the temperatures and humidity dropped.  The skies cleared of that milky summer haze.  Over time, as the leaves changed, the air was filled with that remarkable aroma as the leaves fell and covered the ground, and how the swish of my feet through the fallen leaves enhanced the sensation.  Over time, it became too cool for shorts and t-shirts.  The night's chill made a sweater feel good.  By the first week of November, the leaves were at peak, the landscape painted with those vivid reds and golds as only the artist of Autumn can do.

When Normal Feels Abnormal

 

Copyright © 2022

by Ralph F. Couey

After two very long years, the long claws of the Pandemic are finally loosening their grip.  Over the past few months, states and municipalities began to relax the stringent requirements, such as masking, public gatherings, even the number of shoppers that could be in a store at any given time.  Hawai'i was the last state to drop the mask mandate, which they did on March 25.  This was a major concession by the state which had, hands down, the strictest controls in place.  That was followed this month by the ending of the mask mandate on airliners, buses, and other public transportation.  This was met with a lot of dismay, and an attempt to extend the mandate was struck down by an appellate court.  It would seem that "normal", however one might define that, was finally making a comeback.

The transition was abrupt.  At least it seemed that way.  The first day, March 26, I had occasion to visit the local WalMart.  So ingrained was the need for a mask that as I approached the door, I began to feel like I was missing something.  Entering the store, I slowed, expecting to be accosted by one of the blue-vested workers, but no such entreaty was heard.  I went deeper into the store, maskless, feeling...well, weird.  Looking around, I saw about an even mix between the masked and unmasked.  But nobody complained, so I completed my shopping uneventfully, except for noting with excitement the return to the shelves of my favorite breakfast cereals, Special K and Rice Crispies.  A problem at the Kellogg's plant produced a shortage of those and a couple other cereals for several months.  

Since that day, I've been trying to get used to the new situation.  It was hard, going through the McDonald's drive through, to not reach for a mask.  Even filling gas had required a mask, even though it took place outside.  At work, in a meeting with our boss and other supervisors, at one point in the middle of a serious discussion about the approaching hurricane season (yes, we get them out here), I began to chuckle.  The boss looked at me and inquired what was so funny.  I replied, "Sorry, I just haven't seen your face for two years."  That brought a laugh from everyone.  At church, we can use hymnals and sing again.  Still, it all feels strange.  And why should normal not feel...normal?

Over the past two years, we have been living with a virus that proved to be serious, and deadly.  The fear was sold hard by the government and the media, and we all walked around scared that this unseen enemy could at any moment leap out and grab us, like a mountain lion lying in wait along a hiking trail.  We became accustomed to living with the fear, like learning to walk with a limp.  Now, with the Pandemic on the wane, the fear remains.  I still see a lot of people using masks, even to the point of wearing one while driving with the windows up and A/C on.  I don't have any problem with that.  It's up to us as individuals to choose the level of risk we live with.  I followed the rules, got all the shots, and survived without ever getting sick even though my job with Hawai'i Emergency Management Agency required me to be at work while everyone else was locked down.  The thing is, I don't want to live with fear.  Life requires us to challenge it, pushing back against adversity and conquering our fears.  I have enough baggage without adding fear to the load.

Time, Tides, and the Really Important Things

 

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

Sixteen years ago, I wrote the first piece of this blog, an essay about Ben Rothlesberger's motorcycle accident.  Ben was new to motorcycles and some misguided salesman sold him a Suzuki Hayabusa, a 1300 cc rocket ship, and at that time was the fastest production motorcycle in the world with a top speed of 194 mph.  Predictably, within a month of that purchase, Ben was speeding, lost control, wrecked the bike and very nearly ended his life.  

Since that initial effort, the blog has grown to 833 posts, many of them newspaper columns that were published in various newspapers across the country.  So much of what I wrote involved the recounting of everyday experiences with just a bit of a twist.  Even when committed to writing as many as three per week, I never lacked for subjects.  It seemed that in my daily slog through life, there was plenty of interesting things to write about.  Of course, that was when "normal" existed.

After reviewing my work over the past five years, I realized that my writing reflected the mood I was in, usually dim, dark, and depressing.  Recently, I made myself a promise that I would seek out subjects which were, at the least, neutral, if not uplifting.  I recognize that the Pandemic affected me in ways which were not necessarily healthy, along with several million other people who suffered various forms of depression while isolated behind walls and masks.

Now that the last of the mask mandates have been lifted, that of air travel, it would seem that "normal" is making a comeback.  And not a day too soon.  Next month, Cheryl and I are taking a real-life vacation, three glorious weeks with some of our grandchildren in Virginia who are suffering a tragic lack of spoiling.  The instigation of this journey began one day when Facebook, as they are wont to do, re-posted a video of our oldest granddaughter at age three or four singing a Christmas carol at church.  It's an inspiring thing to watch, as she belts out the song loudly and confidently with absolutely not a shred of self-consciousness.  When we realized that that darling little girl would be driving soon, we decided we had to go.  

Children are precious things.  The days of their youth seem long, but pass all to quickly.  The pictures and videos helpfully posted by their Mom made it all too clear that we were missing the best part of their lives, those pre- and early-teen years when their joy and innocence remains utterly free of cynicism.  While it was a sense of filial duty to Cheryl's aging mother that brought us here to Hawai'i, we are all too aware of the ocean and continent that separate us from all ten grandkids.  

Time passes quickly as one reaches their 60's.  For reasons which remain mysterious, a day, a week, a month, even a year represents an increasingly smaller fraction of life, and therefore seems to fly by.  Sometimes that's good, like when you're enduring something like a root canal.  But mainly, I have become a bit more frantic because the vehicle I'm in is flying down the road of life at increasing speed, and will not stop or even slow.  And yes, I know how that particular trip ends.

Riding the Pony, Living the Dream

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

18 months ago I began a relationship. No, not with a human, but a magnificent automobile, the fulfillment of a dream that began in the fall of 1963.  That was the time when the new car models were introduced to the public.  It was a big deal back then when creativity seemed to be more important than the cookie-cutter models today.  Ford introduced a new vehicle upon which they hung the name "Mustang."  Each year, it got bigger and faster, culminating in the testosterone-generating 1969 Mach 1, also referred to as the Boss 429, with an enormous 429 CID (7.0 Liter) engine.  This powerplant was rated at 375 horsepower, but a lot of experts will swear on any religious book you choose that the actual output was closer to 500 HP.  This was a car you didn't just hear coming, but felt it as well.

Being a normal teenage male at the time, I lusted for that car, probably as a way of concealing my inadequacies in other areas.  As my life progressed through the years, prudence put me into other less-appealing vehicles.  But still in my heart was that longing that had not diminished.

In October 2020, in a moment of weakness, my wife suggested I should go look for a Mustang, if that's what I really wanted.  It was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

I searched assiduously for a period of time until I pad a visit to Honolulu Ford.  The first thing I saw was a parking lot full of Mustangs.  After talking to the salesman, he tossed me the keys to a used Mustang I4, also known as the EcoBoost.  Pulling out of the parking lot, it drove like every 4-cylinder car.  Then, I pulled on the ramp to H-1 (Our Interstate Highway).  Glancing at the traffic, I punched the accelerator.  

Ohhh Myyyy...

War in the Neighborhood

 

The park near the Mariupol Drama Theater  

©Google Maps

Aftermath  

©Evening Standard

Copyright © 2022

By Ralph F. Couey

Written content only

I've been thinking, as many of you probably have, about what is happening in Ukraine.  When Russia invaded is small neighbor on February 24th, most analysts, myself included, assumed that Russian forces would sweep over Ukraine in a matter of days.  Instead, the Ukrainians have frustrated the invader's advance.  Russian casualties have soared, including 8 generals.  It's been an amazing and inspiring thing to watch, as ordinary citizens bravely stood alongside their army with weapons in hand to defend their homeland.  That report brought a sad smile to me.  We used to have a country like that.

While we watch and react to the news, it's hard for us to really understand the impact this has had on the Ukrainians.  Most countries in Europe and Asia have hundreds, in some cases, thousands of years of history where countries were invaded.  Towns, cities, the countryside was torn to pieces.  And everywhere, death both soldiers and the innocent.  It is an indelible part of their past, and it influences their leaders even today.

In contrast, the last time America was invaded was 1812, in the conflict with England that has been called "The Empire Strikes Back."  Yes, we had a destructive Civil War, but those who fought were all part of the same country before the war, and afterwards.  In our 246 years of existence, we've never had to fight off multiple invasions, never had to take up arms to defend our homes and communities.  Such an idea is simply alien to us.

The Universe as a Distraction

 

The first image from the Webb Space Telescope.  Credit:: NASA/STScI

Copyright © 2022

by Ralph F. Couey

Yes.  It's been awhile.  For a writer, creative blocks are bound to come, like rain.  But my extended absence isn't related to a loss of creativity.  

For a long time now, we've been on the receiving end of a battering ram of bad news.  From one vector the Pandemic, which has exhausted us physically, mentally, and emotionally.  It's true that mandates and restrictions are beginning to ease, but hanging above us, like the proverbial sword of Damocles is the threat that a new variant could appear, spread rapidly, and we'd be right back where we were.  Vector No. 2 is the discord between ever-widening political sides in our country has been ratcheted up alarmingly.  Both sides are lying constantly, comfortable that none of their followers will ever hold them accountable for the truth.  

From yet another direction, war is raging, as Russia tries to swallow whole the country of Ukraine.  We have all been inspired by the courage displayed as ordinary Ukrainians willingly pick up weapons to defend their homeland.  The unexpected level of resistance has cost the Russian military time, money, and soldiers.  Almost five weeks into this, Ukraine is standing strong, led by their irrepressible President Zelensky.  When this started, most analysts thought it would be over in a matter of days.  No one knows as yet how this is going to end, but their's no doubt for which side the rest of the world is rooting.

At home, prices are skyrocketing.  Food, fuel, clothing and other necessities are straining budgets everywhere.  People are starting to make those hard choices between wants and needs.  For the first time in living memory, Americans are seeing empty shelves in grocery stores.  Supply chain issues make the acquisition of almost anything difficult.  And expensive.