THE ROUTE 66 MYSTIQUE
As you can guess from the lack of postings recently, my schedule has been rather hectic. Suffice to say the forthcoming adventure to Crown King via the Senator Highway in March is proving to be strong incentive for continuing to put one foot in front of the other when what I really want to do is play dead for a day or two.
Adding to the fun has been a maelstrom of frustration in a wide array of guises. I learned yesterday that the contract for a new book sent to the publisher several weeks ago never arrived. Being shorthanded at work, again, has left me as chief cook and bottle washer (anyone interested in hiring a young at heart, somewhat articulate, heavily opinionated, ambitious, hard working, quick thinking individual, whose technical skill set has progressed little beyond that of rotary phones, eight-track tape players, and setting up a VCR?).
Then there is the frustration that comes from biting my tongue and striving to be diplomatic when I really just want to try another more physical approach to conflict resolution after an exhaustive tirade filled with colorful but physically impossible descriptors and disparaging remarks about the offending persons lineage. Magnifying the frustration is the number of friends and apparently rational people who seem bent on seeking reasons to be offended or finding new and creative ways to cause divisions.
Prime examples include a recent piece of legislation in Arizona, and a posting by a Route 66 business owner on a Facebook page that asked a simple question about Route 66 and when an adventure on that road ceased to be fun. Even though I didn’t recognize it at first, the heated and divisive responses lead me to believe the question was couched to spark this type of discourse.
Adding to the fun has been a maelstrom of frustration in a wide array of guises. I learned yesterday that the contract for a new book sent to the publisher several weeks ago never arrived. Being shorthanded at work, again, has left me as chief cook and bottle washer (anyone interested in hiring a young at heart, somewhat articulate, heavily opinionated, ambitious, hard working, quick thinking individual, whose technical skill set has progressed little beyond that of rotary phones, eight-track tape players, and setting up a VCR?).
Then there is the frustration that comes from biting my tongue and striving to be diplomatic when I really just want to try another more physical approach to conflict resolution after an exhaustive tirade filled with colorful but physically impossible descriptors and disparaging remarks about the offending persons lineage. Magnifying the frustration is the number of friends and apparently rational people who seem bent on seeking reasons to be offended or finding new and creative ways to cause divisions.
Prime examples include a recent piece of legislation in Arizona, and a posting by a Route 66 business owner on a Facebook page that asked a simple question about Route 66 and when an adventure on that road ceased to be fun. Even though I didn’t recognize it at first, the heated and divisive responses lead me to believe the question was couched to spark this type of discourse.
Justification for this train of thought continued to develop as the discourse spiraled downward and the person who posed the question never responded. Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed and surprised by some of the people who joined in the fray and their responses.
The international spate over the Arizona legislation also surprised and frustrated me. Trumpeted as being “anti-gay” by most media sources to ensure an impassioned outrage, the law was in fact anti Baptist, homosexual, heterosexual, Druid, Muslim, Catholic, Jewish, Christian, etc.
In short, it was legislation that cloaked the most ignorant form of bigotry in the guise of religious freedom. In a more perfect world this type of legislation would have become the butt of late night comedians, and the legislators that introduced it and voted for it would be driven from office and to eek out a living, were forced to become televangelists or used car salesman on some Podunk lot in Nogales where every car is sold with a salvage title.
Instead people were whipped into a frenzy, stampeded into taking sides, and in the end, everyone lost. Arizona looked foolish, again, and divisions were fostered.
Okay, now that I have vented, the week has also been peppered with exciting developments and good news. Even though blood test results are pending, a recent physical indicates the odds of my surviving another dozen or so years are quite good.
My newest book is hitting the market and initial reviews are quite positive. Even more rewarding are the notes received by folks like Nick Adams at the Ariston Café.
A sure sign that spring is fast approaching is the arrival of books ordered by tour companies that will become autographed souvenirs. This means that soon I will again be regaling visitors with tales of Kingman and old Route 66, and visiting with old friends.
The efforts to creative a unified sense of community are gaining ground as plans for the Route 66 International Festival move forward. As a result, this event has tremendous potential for transforming Kingman.
Breakfast is about finished so, its time to this the trail. As things are settling into the normal state of chaos, I should be able to assume a regular schedule of postings. Stay tuned for details …
The international spate over the Arizona legislation also surprised and frustrated me. Trumpeted as being “anti-gay” by most media sources to ensure an impassioned outrage, the law was in fact anti Baptist, homosexual, heterosexual, Druid, Muslim, Catholic, Jewish, Christian, etc.
In short, it was legislation that cloaked the most ignorant form of bigotry in the guise of religious freedom. In a more perfect world this type of legislation would have become the butt of late night comedians, and the legislators that introduced it and voted for it would be driven from office and to eek out a living, were forced to become televangelists or used car salesman on some Podunk lot in Nogales where every car is sold with a salvage title.
Instead people were whipped into a frenzy, stampeded into taking sides, and in the end, everyone lost. Arizona looked foolish, again, and divisions were fostered.
Okay, now that I have vented, the week has also been peppered with exciting developments and good news. Even though blood test results are pending, a recent physical indicates the odds of my surviving another dozen or so years are quite good.
My newest book is hitting the market and initial reviews are quite positive. Even more rewarding are the notes received by folks like Nick Adams at the Ariston Café.
A sure sign that spring is fast approaching is the arrival of books ordered by tour companies that will become autographed souvenirs. This means that soon I will again be regaling visitors with tales of Kingman and old Route 66, and visiting with old friends.
The efforts to creative a unified sense of community are gaining ground as plans for the Route 66 International Festival move forward. As a result, this event has tremendous potential for transforming Kingman.
Breakfast is about finished so, its time to this the trail. As things are settling into the normal state of chaos, I should be able to assume a regular schedule of postings. Stay tuned for details …