I have heard it suggested that those who voice complaints about the current governance of our private and public lives are behaving smugly, hatefully, and in other unacceptable ways.

While I do understand the concerns here, I also think we should be more careful of generalizations when referring to reactions against, or favorable to, the edicts issued regarding to the pandemic. To dismiss conflicting attitudes or beliefs as smugness, hate, ignorance, racism, or intolerance,” (I’ve seen those words used interchangeably) is disconcerting at best, and seems extremely condescending.

I am an American, and I believe that our Constitution pretty well speaks of and supports our intrinsic human rights. My belief in those rights is unshakeable, and does not depend on the opinions of anyone else to sustain it.

I am also a Christian, and I, too, try to accommodate all viewpoints. But I’m really tired of being told that my beliefs, opinions, and actions are somewhat less than Christ-like. Lately I’ve been told that to be a true Christian, I must completely capitulate to the demands of some majority opinion - to sacrifice my own beliefs on someone else’s altar. I’m told that I must now live in subservience to those we elected to serve us, but have now said that we must unquestioningly accept their ever-changing statistics and obey their commands governing our collective reaction to the pandemic. But I see no such behavior indicated in scripture, none whatsoever. Instead, I see the admonition to love all, live honestly before all, and to walk humbly, having faith in God alone. But when I try to do that, I am derided for it.

One of the cardinal tenets of Philosophy is skepticism – a healthy, sometimes vigorous questioning of the origins, reasoning, and outcomes of a belief, an idea or a suggested course of action. We have groups dedicated to skeptical inquiry in nearly every area, including questions of life, health, our very existence. Yet when someone dares voice a level of skepticism over some of our current events, he or she is certain to be shouted down, and declared to be at the very least, unstable. Why is that?

We have seen and heard conflicting statements made by people such as Bill Gates, whose net worth alone has purchased him a voice in this issue. He has said that we need to be universally vaccinated against this disease, in order to save millions of lives. But Mr. Gates has also made the statement - as have others, whose voices seem to be amplified over our own seemingly lesser voices – that we need to reduce the world population by millions in order to sustain some level that he deems acceptable. Why the seeming contradiction here? Moreover, why should his opinions and pronouncements carry any more weight than mine, or yours? Is there an overriding virtue or value to his billions that justifies such deference?

We hear - from both “sides” of the issue – very large or very small numbers used to buoy or beat down arguments for or against different strategies or suggestions to be used in this fight. Why the disparity? Does no one else sense confusion here? And is no one else alarmed that our “leaders” (regardless of political persuasion) are basing their often Draconian pronouncements on this confusion? Or that some of them seem to be taking advantage of it to circumvent certain statements in our Constitution with which they disagree? Or, apparently, to enrich themselves at the expense of the very people they claim to protect?

No, I think that “smug, hateful,” and those other derogatory words are poor choices to describe the very real differences of opinion here. And if we continue to use them, they may well be the things that will ultimately sever the ties that make us one nation, not to mention the ties to those things that made us a great nation.

All this political stuff is tiring - here's a change of pace!

A friend asked us to share a memorable personal experience - and I mentioned the night I slept in an Italian Olive Grove. She asked for more detail, and I wrote this memoir - thought y'all might enjoy the diversion. Maybe a little long, but we've got time, and it all happened just like this!

In June of 1966 I spent a night in a Volkswagen, parked under an olive tree, in an olive grove on the side of a mountain just south of Aosta, Italy - nearly froze to death!

I was in the Army then, a SP5, and member of A Company, 17th Signal Battalion, stationed at Neureut Kaserne, just outside Karlsuhe, West Germany. Yes, back then it was still East and West Germany.

I went on leave and drove my brand new 1966 VW 1600TL Fastback from Germany into Austria, then through Switzerland, down through the St Bernard Pass into Italy. Then from Aosta, Italy, through Turin down to the Mediterranean Coast into France, through Nice and Cannes, then into Monaco, back into France again, where I made a loop up through the rose country instead of going through Marseilles, (that was a mistake, I think) then back to the coast and into Spain, and along the Costa del Sol into Barcelona. I slept in the car each night on the road - wasn't all that far, really.

Stayed in Barcelona for about a week, then drove back up along the Costa Del Sol, straight up into France, then east again just before Paris, and back through Strasbourg, into Germany. And I did all of this on a little over $100.00!

Almost got arrested in France for driving across the safety stripes at an intersection. During this time all of Europe was on the lookout for some maniac who had killed and dismembered his wife, and was driving through Germany and France, throwing pieces of her out of his car window. Really! So they were all nervous, and the Gendarmes were out in force, carrying machine pistols (like Uzis). And I found out that they really mean business with those safety stripe islands!

Traffic in Italy was the worst – those drivers were totally crazy! I could do well over 90 in my VW Fastback, and I wasn’t the least bit shy about doing so, but I got passed up constantly by all sorts of cars and trucks. But the worst offenders were the buses!

The drive along the coast was really beautiful. I had never seen water that shade of blue, and I stopped and took several pictures of it along the way, but I really didn’t have time to explore – would love to go back some day!

Got to Barcelona around 9 or 10 PM on a weeknight, and found the Ramblas – supposed to be the place to visit and stay. I pulled up in front of a hotel, and a guy popped up right beside my window to “help” me. First thing he asked was, “Want a girl? or some (whatever he called drugs)? I said no, so he asked if I wanted a guy. I told him that all I wanted was a hotel room. So he pointed to a spot, said to park there for the hotel, and charged me about a quarter (US) for his services. He led me into the hotel, introduced me to the desk clerk, and left again.

So I spent my first night in a sleazebag hotel on the Ramblas, got chewed up by bedbugs, and woke up the next morning only to find out that my car had been towed from the parking spot the guy told me to was a hotel parking spot!

The desk clerk helped a little, but it took me a few hours to find it. Found out later that the Policia had a fleet of Land-rovers fitted with tow rigs just for this purpose! Just grab onto the offending vehicle and drag it away. They didn’t do too much damage, but I never did get the bumper completely straight after that.

Anyway, I took a taxi to the station where they had dropped it off, paid my fine and fees and got it back. It cost me a whole $2.50! When I picked it up out of the impound lot, a Spanish police sergeant - a double for Sgt. Garcia from the old Zorro TV show - lectured me on parking in Barcelona. I listened to him jabber for a few minutes, and when he finally stopped, I just said, "No comprende," and drove out of there. I had a couple of addresses to check, and finally found a pension a few blocks away, to say at for the rest of my time there. More about that later.

That first morning I stopped in some sort of diner – was starved – and ordered Jamon Serrano and Huevos (ham and eggs) for breakfast. Was pretty good, except the ham was a funny sort of green color. But I ate it, and went out wandering around. I had only a year of High School Spanish, but most of the people I talked with wanted to practice their English, so I made out okay. Except for the ones who insisted on speaking Catalan – even the Spaniards had problems with them!

I did eat well - pigged out on steamed clams and Orange Blossoms (gin and orange juice) or Spanish beer in a place called the Kentucky Bar, just off the Ramblas. The owner/bartender called himself Jimmy, spoke English with a near-perfect Brooklyn accent, and claimed to have never been outside Barcelona. He was a hoot! Had our USA street slang down to a Tee! I hung out there several evenings during the week I was there.

One evening a guy came running in and tried to hide in a corner booth. Jimmy told me to sit very still and not to look around, or say a word. A few minutes later, the Policia (think Spanish Gendarmerie) came running in, wearing their three-cornered hats, and looked around. They spotted the guy and dragged him out, screaming and beating on him all the way. After they were out of there Jimmy told me that one of the cops told him that the guy had resisted arrest for something, had pulled a knife and cut one of the cops up pretty badly before getting away from them. He said that the guy would very likely never make it as far as the police station this time.

One morning I got propositioned by a nine-year-old who tried to sell me his 15 year old sister. Then they both got mad at me when I told them no. Just no.

Went to the beach at San Sebastian, dodged floating turds and condoms - stayed out of the water, but the beach itself wasn’t much better.

I had been approached by a tough-looking 10 year old kid in the lot behind the Pension where I stayed, who said that for a few packs of the Marlboros that he could see through the back window of my car, that he and his gang would watch it, “To make sure nothing would happen to it.” I checked it out a couple of times while I was there, and there was always one of those kids watching it! When I went back to the car to pack and leave, I found that they had not only watched it, and there was no damage to it, but they had also washed it, and even cleaned the inside! And the rest of that carton of Marlboros was still there! Gave 'em the rest of the carton, and couple of bucks besides!

One afternoon I watched a bullfight, and went to the movies – “Los Hijos de Katie Elder.” Watching John Wayne dubbed in Spanish was a hoot! “¿A dónde crees que vas, peregrino?”

The pension I stayed at was just a bedroom with a private family in an apartment there on the Ramblas. Very common at the time. It was just the one room, and I shared a common bathroom with the family of three. No meals, but I could watch TV with them if I wanted to. Never did get their names, and it only cost me about $5.00 American for the whole week. I tried not to wonder if the sheets had been laundered recently, but it seemed clean enough, and at least there were no bedbugs. I did notice that when folks around there did their laundry, they hung it out of the windows (over the windowsill) to dry.

All too soon it was time to leave. I got my now very nicely washed car, loaded my B4 bag, and headed north, back along the Costa del Sol. (That’s the Mediterranean Sun Coast, if anyone was wondering) Didn’t have much money left, but I wasn’t worried.

On my way back through France I rear-ended a German doctor who had tried to squeeze his Opel too close in front of me, and stopped short. Okay, I was going a little faster than I should have been going. But he was all apologies, and gave me his name, number, and address, written on a page torn out of his pocket calendar. I never realized until later that the page he wrote on just happened to be November 16 1966. That's my birthday! :-) I still have it around here, someplace.

That last day I was totally out of $$ - got back on fumes, and starved! Had to wait until the mess hall opened next morning for breakfast. But I took one of the longest showers I'd ever taken!

Anyway, I'd do it all again - except for the floaters at San Sebastian!

BTW - The food was fantastic! From that first Jamon Serrano to a couple of Tapas bars, to the street food, to the most delicious Paella I have ever had – plus those steamed clams at the Kentucky Bar – I really enjoyed it!

Wow! Again, it's been a while since I've posted here! Gotta get better at that.
I'll try again - can't promise anything, but just for those who do like my meanderings, I'll try again.

Wow! It's been a while!

Wow! Been too long! Now with all this time, I think maybe I'll fire this thing up again.

Someone asked: What are the benefits of reading encyclopedia books?

I’m assuming that by “Encyclopedia Books” you mean simply hardcover encyclopedias, so my answer is framed with those in mind, but it might apply to the current crop of single-subject "coffee table" books as well.
Encyclopedias as collections of knowledge are not the same today as they were when I was a kid.  I’m 77 now, and as is the case with other things I knew and enjoyed then, technology has changed them. “Assembled knowledge” is no longer as much a static thing as it used to be; collections of assembled knowledge are more dynamic nowadays.
But way back then I had a set of Encyclopedia Brittanica Jr. and a two volume Webster’s Dictionary, that I used for homework assignments. Perhaps some would say that I was too easily distracted, but whenever I looked up a word in the dictionary, I would also read every other word on both facing pages, and when I looked up an entry in the encyclopedia, I would read the items on both sides of that as well. Homework took longer back then, and it often didn’t get done at all. The fact that I was learning other things was lost on my teachers …
Anyway, I got to enjoy those side ventures so much that I decided to start at the beginning of both the dictionary and the encyclopedia and read them from cover to cover. And I did just that, when I was 13. No, I didn't really understand all of what I was reading, but it was an interesting exposure just the same, and many times those items came back to me later – sort of like sorting through jigsaw puzzle pieces, and remembering later that a certain needed piece was "over there in that pile."
Oh, I still explored our 67 acres like any kid my age, and I ran through the woods with Hawkeye and his friends, but now I knew that the willow twig that Chingachgook gave me to chew on to relieve my headache was effective because the willow is a member of the salicaceae family, and that’s where aspirin comes from – that certain needed piece just fell into the right spot. I was interested in that information/knowledge, although I’m sure I didn’t think of it as simply that.
Was that a benefit? I think so, because even though that information was in a fixed format (which never occurred to me back then), I learned things. In those static views I could also see, and actually formulate, what I have come to call the “What Happens Next” effect. I could trace the development of an idea or invention and see where and why it had spawned some other new thing. I could see where someone invented a travois, for example, then later someone decided to put a wheel on it, making it easier to pull. That was easy to see then, but now our grandkids tend to simply jump to the Lamborghini.
Now, given almost instant encyclopedia updates, I think that too many of us today also simply discard those intermediate things, along with the ideas that helped generate them. We grab for the shiny new object, and forget the old. An analogy might be the digital vs analog watch. Those new digital things are spiffy, to be sure, with all their rockin’ new features. But I think that when we grab for the Breitling or Casio, we lose the time between the clicks that the old Bulova analog faithfully displayed for us. I think that “what happens next” happens mostly in the inbetweentime, but digital time clicks on without it.
Probably the most important item on my list of benefits is the fact that I acquired a lifelong habit of reading and learning things. I still enjoy reading encyclopedia entries. And I still use the dictionary, and still look at all the entries on both facing pages. Actually it just occurred to me that I could call them entrèes, because of all the side dishes available to accompany them, and sometimes those side dishes are ever so much tastier!
I know this is probably an overlong answer, and perhaps this was not the type of encyclopedia you had in mind, but life just is not that simple any more, and we miss so much by going the simple route, that I just refuse to do that any longer.
Now, eat your broccoli!

My wife is brilliant!
We were driving up Rt 11, a two lane highway in NY, and we were dodging potholes. That's not an uncommon sport around these parts, but I was grumping because they just recently re-paved this road.
Then I wondered aloud if this new process, where they grind up the old pavement and mix it with oils and tars to make recycled blacktop, could be at fault.
She thought for a minute, and said, "Sure! Think about it! When they grind up the old stuff, they grind up all those old pot holes with it!"
Like I said, Brilliant!