Thursday, June 30, 2016

Meryl Streep, Diane Lane and Others on the Legacy of Elizabeth Swados - The New York Times

Good for Canada!

White Ango-Saxon idiots! Unevolved, unconsious, only out for themselves!

We have met the enemy and he is us!

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

The expats in Spain, are going to lose their 'free' medical care!

So, Mao, whatever happened to Communism?

What do we do, Obama, when we can't grow anymore?

We have met the enemy and he is us!

Welcome to the Brazilian Summer Olympic Games!

Be careful in Grizzly country (Montana, B.C., etc.), cyclists!

I would ask THE U.K. THEGUARDIAN.COM, if they are a private for profit company? Why are they asking for donations?

This is good news for a change! Go Dutch, lead the way!

Governments, doesn't matter where or when, stealing from us, the people. My definition of Government: One smaller group controlling a larger group for fun and profit!

This is what Simon Bolivar, and me have tried to do! Bring S.A. together, as would be stronger!

A building conflict in the South China Sea. And China's not going to back down.

Here's an example of what I've been discussing for a long time: the results of over-population; the 'rats in a cage syndrome.' We're now 'eating each other!'

Two transgender candidates — both named Misty — just made history by winning primaries - The Washington Post

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Hey, they're not all 'bad!'

Lois Duncan obituary | Books | The Guardian

Science! It's the 'bad' idea versus spirituality!

I've long said, over-population is the #1 problem facing humanity. But, since capitalism is based on growth, no body wants to hear. It's the 'rats in a cage' syndrome. We're not 'eating' each other!

A. P. If you can't deal with something, just kill it, the American way!

Paranoia, xenophobia, facism, the oligarchy! We exploite them in the beginning for more profit. Then when they need us, sorry about that!

Money is god, and people expendable. What would you expect in a Nation-culture gone mad!

American Pathology X10!

More American Pathology, now reaching an 'epidemic' stage (almost everyday now).

Just keep driving those motor vehicles! Rush, to your deaths!

Why release this? We seem to 'get off' on tragedy! American Pathology!

Always, about money!

This, 'American Pathology,' almost daily now! When shall we do something about it? It's not the guns, it's us, what we have created together, and it's not good

American Pathology!

I think it's something else! Maybe the earth moaning. She's alive you know, and we're abusing the shit out of her!

The old orders are dissoving into chaos. In the U.K., and in Spain, there are hardly functioning goverments. In the U.K., they're worried about a football lose to Iceland.. Trump, the madman, liable to be president of the U.S. What is going on?

Who cares about people, profit is God!

'The Blame Game! That's all there's left to U.S. 'democracy.' But, don't expect any Gov. to protect you whether Demo. or Repub.

Yes, but let's eliminate all the guns, from the public, the police, and the military!

How bicycle advertising will save the world

Disney one of the most evil corpos; in the world, but people too unevolved to understand why!

Funny!

And yet another example of AMERICAN PATHOLOGY! 'We have met the enemy and he is us!'

Because they are stupid!

I carried the Olympic Torch for China, in 2008. A wonderful experience!

Monday, June 27, 2016

American Pathology!

Jupiter the manisfestation of a Spirit. And so, we might be worried.

Only the young and unevolved watch fariy tales! Children!

Good news for a change!

The Establishment protecting its own! Not good!

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Things, things, and more things!
Objects!
Manmade
To make money, honey!
Materialism,
Capitalism,
Things, more things!
We think needed,
Sold,
Selling,
Yelling,
Throw it away,
Buy new!
Money, money, money!
Things, things, and more things,
Drowning in things we don't need!
Robotic consumers,
STOP!
Get yourselves freer!
H.

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'Reel' Jean Days,
Long gone,
All wrong nowadays!
The Old Pueblo,
Speedway,
Johnny's Drive-in,
When 'genes' had steel-button flies,
Took washings to wear,
Cost but $6 dollars, lasted
Forever!
Real jeans, Levis, Wranglers, and Blue Bells.
You bought two sizes larger as shrunk,
Real cotton back when
I can almost remember!
Real days,
Gone forever!
Now, everyone wears thin
Costing much,
But, don't realize
These were just working pants
For cowboys!
My 'Pappy Jack' made them famous!
Now, everyone is a 'cowboy!'
H.

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Cycling Sabados o Domingos
This one was at the invitation of Cesar, my amigo de Espana. He suggested an evening ride beginning at 1730, Saturday evening.  We would depart from the 1st Bridge, glide down to Granada, going east, taking the road along the Gnil River to Gujar Sierra, then up to the Visitor's Center (been down this 8KMs a month before), then down to Monachil.   Of course, I agreed, but little did I know what I was getting into…
I wondered about leaving so late, as concerned about cycling in the dark on the way back.  I thought this was because of the heat (now summer) and/or his work schedule.  Plus, his mother visiting.
We departed on time, and all well and interesting along the Gnil River.  First on a hard surface, then on dirt, over bridges, farms on the left, through a village, finally over on the south side below the Gnil Reservoir dam.  Then a locked gate.  Cesar pushed his bicycle under, but we handed Senor Fetes, after taking off the panniers, around a fat concrete pillar.  On directly under the dam, of earth and rock material.
Then UP, and we're talking steep up.  I remember Cesar warning me about 300 mts. of steepness, that we might have to get off and push.  I made it until my highway tires had no traction and I pushed.  But, whoa, so much energy this took.
At the top we rested.
Then on to Gujar Sierra, above the reservoir.  But, much further than I expected and up/down.
Finally in G.S., we snaked our way through, and then down and back down to the River, and again, much father than I expected.  At the mirador (lookout point), we stopped.  We'd gone 21KM and it was 1930 hours.  I ate some of Sonia's cherries, refreshed, we glided down to the river on a narrow road and through a couple of tunnels.  Some motor traffic up, as families out on a Saturday, and on a narrow road, somewhat dicey as a drop off with no railing to my right.
I had told Cesar just go ahead, and no need to wait, as once on this stretch I knew the way back to Monachil.
But, my God, this UP, almost 8KM, steep, steep, especially in the beginning.  I don't really know how I made it, except for stopping to rest probably a half-doze times.  This at the first winds through a dense forest, with many moscas attacking me.  I don't know how I made it up, really, the distance/time seemed interminable, a form of torture.  And the sun was setting.  I remember a young woman stopping her automobile to ask something in Spanish, but I kept going ignoring her.  She probably thought how unfriendly.
Near the top, Cesar was waiting which surprised me.  I could barely speak, but now unhappy.  And when unhappy, I can express things that sometimes flabbergast people.  I have to be careful what I say.  I think I got into how I hate the motor vehicle, and Cesar owns one, drives it -- what we did to get to the Almeria and back.  Note, sometimes I'm glad about motor vehicles, that was one time.
But, then it was getting dark, and we had to go down the main highway (A-395) for ten kilometers.  I got out my lights. 
We went down and down, me concerned about going so fast when I couldn't really see ahead.  I've done this kind of cycling before, but now getting too old to feel comfortable.
Then up on the 'tar' road, off A-395.  By now, no need for chat, as focused on getting back to Monachil without incident.  I wasn't having a good time!
Down again through 'my' valley, luckily no motor traffic, then up again.  By now, I'm  cycling on some kind of mental energy (desire to get home alive).  At the top of 'Ruta Del Parche' we stopped, and Cesar asked me if I wanted to stop at Puntarron (a restaurant we know) to have a drink.  This is where our 20-year age difference becomes evident.  I told him I'd be lucky to be able to walk up one flight to my bedroom (at Sonia's).
But, what made this entire ordeal worth it to me was the view of Granada at night!  I'd never seen, nor likely to see, as I don't stay out late anymore.  I wish I'd had a GO-PRO camera to record our way winding down the 7KM and into Monachil.
At the third bridge, near where Cesar lives, he stopped to say goodnight.  We exchanged our thanks to being alive (me at least), and salutations for more to come -- it can only be easier!
By the time I got in my bed it was 2330 hours, a six-hour trip.  I was beyond feeling, except for my feet which were SCREAMING at me!  I applied my homeopathic cream, hoping I could walk in the morning.
Actually, in the morning, I was happily amazed, as I could walk, and my feet no less the wear.  My new sandals had come though magically -- my guarding angels at work!
But, I can tell you… I wouldn't want to repeat what we had the evening before.  I was happy that I proved that I could to it, survive without too much in the way of recovery (like being in a hospital).  But, it wasn't all that much fun, and at my age, why do it if you have to suffer?  I have suffered enough in my life time, not into it now, if you have a choice!
Next time, I will have many more questions for Cesar...
H.

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The human race is lost!
All of the touchstones; mythology (stories we live by) remain, although we, distracted by a 'see' of materialism, are set adrift not knowing how to live (properly). 
Money/profit have become God, our only 'guide' in the search for something that will staunch our fears, and make us 'happy!'  We have to get $ rich, while forsaking the true riches, spiritual wisdom.  
Organized religion has failed us, as made by man not God!  We're lost, thrashing about in the Hell we've created!
The most recent news events, the Orlando massacre (50 people dead), U.S., and the Brexit vote, U.K. (fear of immigrants, nee fascism) should indicate the extent of our pathology.  Yet, we avoid, and thus we continue to spiral downward!
People are frightened, scared, lost and are seeking 'shelter from the storm!'
Paddy Chayefsky wrote about this in his motion picture, NETWORK, 40 years ago:
 "I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's worth, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV's while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad - worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.' Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot - I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, 'I'm a HUMAN BEING, God damn it! My life has VALUE!' So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell, 'I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!' I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell - 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!' Things have got to change. But first, you've gotta get mad!... You've got to say, 'I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!' Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: "I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"  Note, I wish people would do this, but of course, too afraid!
I see and feel the pathology everywhere, but mostly in the U.S., France, and Germany, China, maybe.  People killing each other and themselves, the self-destructiveness, suicides, people lost.
My friends, family in the U.S. just ignore the problem, as if it doesn't exist -- actually like most, they don't know what to do about such..  They hope if they ignore it, it will just go away magically!  But, it won't, in fact it's much worse now than when Paddy Chayefsky wrote about the problem in the early 1970s.
The problem is us!  WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY AND HE IS US!  But, of course, we can't admit it!  It's just easier, and safer to project the pathology onto 'them,' other people!   But, it's us, all of us, and what we have created together.  AND IT'S ALL WRONG, in my opinion.  The male ego, capitalism, the worship of money/power as God, materialism!  Most of us just robotic consumers, lost in a 'see' of material objects, things, devices, 'smart' phones (making us dumber).  Hey, let's watch football on TV!  There's an entire industry of distraction, getting $ rich on our stupidity, our unconsciousness!
What to do?
What we have now in our world (Duality - Reality) is simply Good versus Evil!  But, more specifically, it is the battle between those serving human evolution (female energy) and those only interested in serving themselves (male energy).
The Christians hope for a 'Second Coming!'  Something, Jesus, God, a force to come from somewhere, and save us from ourselves!   And guess what?  I've got good news for them, kinda, as it's 'coming,' but it ain't Christian, it's Hindu, and her name is KALI, the Goddess of creation and destruction.  She's in the process of dominating the male ego (the problem).
In the Bon tradition it's called DEMCHOG, a male icon that's gotten control of his own ego, nee Tantric Taoism.  Note, 'T.T' offers a way of uniting with the Devine Female via a sexual 'metawhor!'
The new, coming 'Age of Kalki,' will be dominated by female energy, THE GUAN YIN (Chinese Goddess of Compassion).
So take heart, there is hope!  C.G. Jung and Rudolf Steiner, both 'divine messengers' knew about this spiritual evolution.  That's it's not a matter of faith, but of knowing!  'The absence of all doubt leads to complete success!'  sayeth the Second Buddha, Padmashambava.
It is the spiritual wisdom of the individual that will save us from ourselves!  And what is that?  THE POWER OF THE IMAGINATION!
Imagine that! (John Lennon)
Tantric Taoism
F.A. Hutchison

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Finally, after 9 weeks in Spain, I'm beginning to feel 'at home!'  Also, there was the month prior, preparing in Cochabamba, so it takes about three months to make a 'move' feel comfortable, particularly my 'move,' shifting from one
Hemisphere,
Continent,
Country,
City, and
Culture (different everything, like currency, etc.)
Try this when you're 76-years old!
But, I couldn't stand Bolivia any longer after three years.  The thinking there too primitive!  I remember a friend telling me, when she heard I was moving to Bolivia, that there was much 'poverty.'  What she was referring to, was the physical poverty.  Although, this not so.  Everyone in Bolivia eats!  The kind of poverty that exists in Bolivia is MENTAL poverty (uneducated, unevolved).  I needed a more sophisticated culture, like Spain/Europe.
So, happier here now, where drivers actually stop for you crossing the streets!  Here, cycling, cyclists respected, as common!
Wow, I'm in 'heaven?'
H.

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Nature is the 'hero,'
Mankind's ego the villain,
Dark, violent,
All for himself!
We, humanity, are at
A crossroads!
'Won' way 'life,'
The other extinction!
Which will it 'bee/'
To be or knot to be,
that is the question?
Willy knew, 400 years ago!
H.

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I just remembered something from my youth, living in West Covina, California, U.S., circa, 1952.  What triggered was reading a novel entitled THE OTHER MRS. WALKER, by Mary Paulson-Ellis.  She described London during the Blitz (1942), when children were required to have personal items packed/ready, in case of sirens (alarm that German missiles/bombers coming).
It hit me how scared I felt when I heard a siren, as we'd been warned about the Russian's A-bomb attack.  We had what was called 'Drop Drills,' in school. But, nobody, including my parents, explained the probability of such.  My father had a bomb shelter built on our property in Portuguese Bend.  We had it stocked with water (only).  Above on the top of the hill, just above us, was a Nike missile battery.  This was the Cold War, but always on the verge of going 'hot!'  We were 'at war' and had to be prepared for the worst.   Thus, my fear when I heard a siren at night.  I used to go into my parent's bedroom, hoping for some comfort, but never got.  My parents were good at many things, but explaining about life eluding them, that their children might need such.  Maybe it was the era of self-sufficiency, when you had to make it on your own!
I learned about the 'birds and the bees,' sexual reproduction at the age of 14 (too old) from my Jewish friend, one night when we were sleeping outside on our lawn. I couldn't hardly believe it, 'What happens?'  But, of course, I acted like I knew!
Modern life infected with man-created religion so fucked up!  Now, some 60 years later, we're on the verge of the apocalypse again!  People don't realize how stupid we (modern humanity) really are!
Ancient man much more developed!
H.

Why I won't fly anymore! Profit is God, and screw the customer!

Read ALL OVER CREATION, by Ruth Ozeki

Such 'Ka-Ka,' and people believe, stupid people that is...

The only qualification is stupidity! No intelligent person would want to be!

We went to the first Disneyland in 1956, in Anaheim, Californicate, before it was even completed. Now, you'd have to pay me!

We've been in an Economic Depression since 2008, and it continues. The economists and the politicians just afraid of labeling it as such.

American Pathology!

American Pathology!

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Hope? There is hope, but not for us (humanity)!

WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY AND HE IS US!

Ancient Earth had more than 2 magnetic poles | MNN - Mother Nature Network

What AR-15 owners say about their guns and the Orlando shooting - CSMonitor.com

American Pathology!

Saturday, June 25, 2016

American Pathology!

Friday, June 24, 2016

BBC - Future - Polyamorous relationships may be the future of marriage

We have met the enemy and he is us!

‘Brexit’ Aftershocks: More Rifts in Europe, and in Britain, Too - The New York Times

American Pathology!

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Britain votes to leave European Union

BBC - Shakespeare Lives - Time Will tells

Nobody really cares, or they'd stop driving motor vehicles!

The Demos. stupid, as eliminating guns (impossible in U.S. culture) only treats the symptoms without curing the illness, us!

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Cycling con Hutch
I make it up to the ski village (name?).  This, up some 2,000mts. in 25 kilometers from Monachil.
I'm sitting in the sun at Little Morgan's outdoor cafe, in the Wnde Plaza.  It's 1545.  Next to me a 'hippie' family who's son had just finished competing in a mountain bike race, or so I surmise…  The father has the most ungodly dredknot hairdo, looking like an old used mop that's never been washed. The mother, not quite as 'hippie,' nor with a wedding band.  The teenage son gulping down pizza.
I'm splurging with a brownie con helado de chocolate, about as decadent as you can get, all sugar and fat!  But, I don't do this very often, here just rewarding my 7-hours of exertion!
I departed from Sonia's house where I live in Monachil, at 0815.  I thought I would go as far as I could, never quite knowing… But, I felt strong after the two recent cycling trips with Cesar.  It wasn't a perfect cycling day, as the heat building from the first crank.  Note, summer is upon us, at 37-degrees north latitude.
I made it up the 7KM to Ruta Del Purche in 1:45, which is a gain of 15 minutes from previous tries.  Then the picnic tables on the east side of 'my' vale, in 2:15.  Here I rested and ate one-half of the pera (pear) I'd brought. Not very tired after two strenuous climbs, I thought, 'I've gotten my legs back!'
Then on down through the pine forest to where it meets A-395, the main route for vehicles up to the top, the ski village and where it ends (at 3, 00O mts. ASL).  Then up and up all the way, some 20 kilometers of 'up!'
At the Visitors Center, the road splits, and I took the 'old' one, that most cyclists take (more interesting, maybe more difficult).  I think less motor traffic the reason!
About 4KM up from the Visitor's Center, I found a good stop to stop and rest, eat my lunch.  I had an idea that after a rest, I would continue up and see how far I could get.  I envisioned sitting a table, having postres and cafe.
I found the perfect spot, parked Senor Fetes against three handy steel pipes in the ground.  I wondered what they were there for, set in a triangle?  I had remembered to bring my ground 'cloth,' and pad, which I spread out in the sun.  I ate my perfect lunch (almuerzo in Es.), a goat cheese sandwich with olives and tomates, 'postressed off' with a muffin from Corvisan mercado.   Then time for a nap.  In the sun it become too hot, so I moved into the shade and against a tree. (arbor in Es.).  It was so comfortable, I actually fell asleep for a short time. I'm blessed, I thought, thanking, 'won-ness,' being grateful important (for every little thing).
After 90 minutes, I continued up, and up, another ten kilometers, before finally reaching the junction where this smaller 'tar road,' as Cesar calls them, meets A-395 on it's way up from the Ski Village.  I took the way down, but then in another kilometer there was another junction, and I didn't know which way to take.  I guessed better to take the 'high road,' and I turned out to be fortuitous, as I got the good foto. of the Village from above. 
The Ski Village, whose name is, is much larger and developed than I knew.  Besides a plethora of hotels, hostals and restaurants, it has a bank and food markets, a school.  I was suddenly enchanted, as this is the kind of milieu I love. It reminded me of such in Colorado, U.S.A.   I want to live here, this is 'heaven' to me!
After finishing my brownie con helado and cafe, paying, I gave the boy (of the hippie father) two stickers for him and his younger brother.  I was thanked profusely my the 'drednotted' father, and my opinion of him changed.  One should be careful about judging from appearances!
Of at 1600 hours, it only took two to get back to Monachil (mostly downhill).  But, the wind had come up and a little shaky going too fast.  I'm still unsure about the slick and narrow tires I've purchased for highway riding.
Back at Sonia's where I live, I cooked my arroz de Integral (brown rice) for cena (dinner in Es.).  Then to bed without bathing (too tired).  It was early, something like 2000 hours, but I was tired.
Then a knock at my door at 2200 hours, and with sunlight I was confused.  I looked at my watch and it read 1000.  I thought, I've over slept, but it was just Sonia, reminding me about Telefonica.  They had called her and said they would be here tomorrow at 1600 hours.
I went back to bed!
H.

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Oh, the latest novel read, THE OTHER MRS. WALKER, by Mark Paulson-Ellis, confirms what I have been thinking, this having read so many novels recently by female authors…  That the content seems always to be about dysfunctional families -- very revealing about modern life! Note, just before I completed Elena Ferrantes' THE NEAPOLITAN SERIES (unconscious/dysfunctional people growing up in Naples, Italy, 20th C.).
Most of the content of most of the novels I've read recently, are the lives of families torn a part by unevolved people, such pathology revealing a very 'sick' world!
Why are there so few novels written that uplift us, inspire us?  Maybe the don't sell?
I can only cite a couple (out of maybe one hundred) in recent reading history, and one I recommend in particular, as it saved my life:  MUTANT MESSAGE -- DOWN UNDER, by Marlo Morgan!
The other, ALL OVER CREATION, by Ruth Ozeki
Both of these novels should be produced as motion pictures!
H.

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I'm so much alive,
I'm 'we!'
Death, don't dreadth,
But, rejoice!
This reality, Duality
'I' as Hell,
'We' as Heaven!
The Ego is Lucifer
Holding onto us,
And we too stupid to understand
Trapped,
Under our hat,
Buy a cat,
Tit for tat!
H.

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Secundo viaje de bicicleta con Cesar…
This one, a little easier launch, as later (0830) and in Cesar's vehicle (a van).  We were to drive to Almeria, and a village beyond called Cabo de Gato.  At this point, we would ride along the Mediterranean coast.
I cranked up to Cesar's apartment, and was there early, something like 0815.  He wanted to have something to eat, so I went up to his 3rd floor flat. 
We loaded and were driving out of Monachil by 0900. Ah, so easy sitting in an air conditioned box (on 4 wheels)…
He took me on a 'short cut' (atajo in Es.) as to save some 15KM in traffic, this a Monday morning work day, people rushing to work.  But, first he diverted to show me an interesting spot, one with a view of Granada called, Mirador St. Miguel.  We parked next to a van in a dirt parking lot, where two people lay on mattresses.  Shades of 'hippie' life, as their van painted with slogans 'Love!' and flowers.  I didn't look too closely, however, as like to give people privacy, plus Cesar now lost ahead.  We walked to the Mirador (look out) and discovered a stunning view of Granada, the famous Alhambra to our left.  It was a sunny morning, and I took my usual fotographias.  Note, as said so many times before, all of these available at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/  Cesar told me the history of the place, that this is where gypsies (histanos in Es.) hung out, living in caves below.
We went on to our highway to Almeria, A-92.  But, first stopping at a restaurante for some cafe con leche (always served with a little packet of white sugar).
Onward through a pine forest at some elevation, La Mora at 1380 mts. elevation or  4,500ft. ASL -- a highway sign indicating snow in winter.  The mountain range to the north, a favorite for mountain bikers according to Cesar, called, Sierra Arana.  Cesar explained that this mountain range was the line between the two armies during the Spanish Civil War (1936-38).  During that short war, 200,00 people were killed, including the famous Spanish writer/poet Lorca.  Hemingway brought this war to the U.S. reading public with, 'The Sun Also Rises!' 
Ah, what the General P. doesn't know fills all the libraries of the world.  Now, available via Google Search. 
It was a lovely drive, the meridian full of yellow blossomed bushes making me think Autumn. 
I dozed as riding in a motor vehicle makes me sleepy.  I can sleep better in a moving vehicle than a stationary bed (camas in Es.), probably my brain triggered by infant memories of being rocked in a cradle.
Cesar exited off the highway looking for a particular fruit, but nothing open. 
I remember Cesar explaining that within 20 minutes the terrain would change drastically, and it did.  You go from some elevation down to the leeward side (east) of the Sierra Nevada range, stopping the rain, nee desierto.
Once in Almeria Province a 'sea' of corpo. green houses (actually a brownish white) where most of the verduras and frutas are grown for all of Europe.  Unfortunately, the vegetables and fruits grown here are with many chemicals, thus quicly and three 'crops' per year nee mas profit (beneficio in Es.).  Note, whose 'benefit?'
Also, this being a desert, it's a locale for the exteriors of motion pictures.  'Little Hollywood,' I think they call it.  'Lawrence of Arabia' was shot in this desierto, 'doubling' for Egypt and Libya.  I think the 'Game of Thrones,' recently.  On the way back we saw, a western town set.  So, funny to me as I grew up in Tucson, Arizona, and 'Old Tucson,' (one of 'Hollywood's Western sets') where I was an occasional 'extra' as could ride a horse.  One movie I 'was in,' named 'Rio Bravo,' starring John Wayne.  I stole the 'Duke's' chair one night departing… Bad 'karma' as I never saw myself in the b.g. watching the finished product later in a theater -- my scenes had hit the 'cutting room' floor.
We drove on to our goal, Cabo de Gato.  Here we parked, got our bikes out, loaded, and took off on the coast road and into Parque Natural de Cabo de Gato-Nijar.  Cesar knew where he was going, as had done this, taken this trip, many times before. I was with the perfect guide.
Well, lucky the first part of the road hard surface, as after the light house, there was quite a climb up, two kilometers of some 20% grades.  Sometimes I'm amazed I can still do this.
Then on to another high point, and an ancient Moro (Moor) lookout tower.  From here dirt road all the way to San Jose.
We stopped for lunch at a playa called El Coyote.  But, we had to push our bikes almost a kilometer to the sea.  It's a bitch pushing a loaded bicycle (with thin highway tires) through soft sand.  But, seems like in my 17-year 'career' riding a bicycle around the world, I've faced just about every situation possible.  Here, more naked bathers.  We parked and ate what food we'd brought, me my cheese sandwich with olives and tomates, Cesar eating mostly fruit.  Afterwards we took a siesta.
An hour later we were back on the dirt road heading for San Jose.  I was amazed at so much motor traffic on a week day in the middle of nowhere.  Cesar explained that summer vacations had already begun.
At San Jose, the hard surface road began anew, and 'whew!,' as the dirt part, maybe ten kilometers previous, was hard rock in sections, the jarring kind, and soft sand in other sections, the slippery kind.  Not my favorite surface to crank a heavy bicycle on.   
I caught up with Cesar in the shade checking his tele.
I was impressed with San Jose, as much larger and developed than I had expected.
We were headed out, riding north, Cesar about 100 mts. ahead when my chain broke.  I yelled for him to stop, which he did.  Now, a bicycle chain breaking, especially the Shimano quality ones, unusual.  But, I knew I was due for a new one, and ironically, was supposed to get a new in Granada at Bicicletas, La Estacion (Antonio's) THAT VERY DAY, Lunes (Monday).  But, because of Cesar's last minute trip I was here, not there.  We pushed into the shade, and pondered what to do.  Cesar has the tool, but had never used, me I've never changed a chain.  Then, a young man came riding past, and I told Cesar to ask if there were any bicycle shops in San Jose.  Lucky, he said there was a young mechanico who repaired bicycles as part of his motor vehicle garage.
We went back, Cesar pumping, me riding Senor Fetes like a 'scooter,' pushing along, luckily downhill. 
We found the place easily, the young man was unoccupied, and he reconnected my chain for 5E or $7U.S.   We were out of there in ten minutes.  We celebrated with some helado (ice cream). 
Later Cesar remarked that the reason the chain broke was that I wanted to stop for ice cream!  But, I knew it was my guarding angels at work!  So many times in the past have I been saved by 'unknown forces!'  'Unknown?'  I know 'who' they are, James.B. for one!
We went on to another village called Isleta de Moro.  I followed Cesar to a restaurant where we sat at a table, the sea within two meters, the wind blowing so hard now, we got sprayed with salt water several times.  But, what a location if you love the sea!   After so many botellas de jugo de pina (small bottles of pineapple juice),  two cervesas for Cesar, he departed to 'have a look around.'   I thought he'd be back in ten minutes.  He was gone for an hour, and I had worried thoughts like, 'What would I do if he didn't return?'  The germ of a story…  He did return with a wrist 'thing,' purchased from an artisan for 7E.  He had also found us the 'perfect' hotel' for the night. 
Seems Cesar with much experience as a tour guide, had been in these parts before, paying the high tourist rates for a room in various hotels.  Now, he prefers sneaking a camp site, even though it's illegal.  Of course, the police, paid by the local hotels, drive tourists not to camp but to stay in hotels or pay for a camp site..  Cesar lamented he'd been fined twice, 70E / $85U.S. for camping 'illegally!'
We had dinner in the restaurant.  The pescado (fish) was fresh (of course) and good.  Expensive at 30E / $35U.S. each, but what to do?  Sometimes you just have to pay!
It was dark by now, and perfect to 'steal off' to our 'hotel,' a nearby cove, directly under some buildings.  We had to push through 50mts. of beach sand, and then negotiate a stretch of rocks, with waves lapping.  I slipped once, and got one foot wet.
What a 'hotel' this turned out to be!  A concrete jetty of sorts leading to a boat house.  And all at a slant down to the water.  There were only two places one might sleep, Cesar taking the most level (at my suggestion).   I spread out my ground 'cloth' and sleeping pad perpendicular to an iron gate/wall (where the boat was stored). 
Cesar, suffering from the first trip, his mosquito net not right, had brought  part of his tent, mesh net supported with tent rods.  He'd gave me his mosquito net, the one that isn't supported.  What to do? I tied one end to the barred wall, stretching out the length to cover me.  Yes, there were mosquitoes, and I didn't sleep very well on the concrete.  I had to hold the net up with my hands to keep it off my face.
Additionally, it wasn't an hour later that a couple showed up walking their dog.  I thought, they'll tell the police and we'll be fined.  But, my guarding angels came through again and they didn't.  In fact, I thought they didn't even notice us.  When they were departing, I heard Cesar say something out loud, and I feared this alerted them.  But, the following day, Cesar explained he'd said something to them on purpose like, 'We're trying to sleep! Good night!'  This, in Spanish of course.
I awoke with the sun (something like 0600), a golden disc just arriving over the horizon.  A beautiful sight actually as it became an orange ball.  I got up, dressed in my cycling attire, ate something, and packed up waiting for Cesar.
We were out of there and back on the road without seeing another person.  It was a lovely, quiet morning cycling back toward San Jose.  The idea was to return to the village, Cabo de Gato, where we'd parked Cesar's van.  Cesar wanted to try to meet up with a friend in Almeria.
There were two possible routes back, one the way we came on the dirt road, the other on a highway inland.  Cesar wanted to return the same way we'd come, but I suggested inland, as different.  I rarely want to return the way I've come, but discover something new.  He acquisced, and we took the highway inland, stopping at a restaurant on the way to have morning coffee.
We cycled through the 'sea' of commercial 'green' houses, passing many cyclists -- one group in lycra must have been 30. The area reminded me of the Salton Sea valley near Indio, California.
We arrived back in Cabo de Gato, and Cesar's van by 1000.  i was surprised it was so early, what to do?
When he got a text message from his friend, that he was in Portugal, Cesar suggested we load up, return via vehicle, going further to our original goal, a village called Las Negras.  This turned out to be interesting, as in a village called Rodalquilar, I purchsed both a t-shirt and a beach chair. This an old gold mining community turned into an upscale tourist site.  Note, the t-shirt cost $40U.S., and probably shouldn't have, but it had a bicycle on the front, and designed by 'The Lizard (Largatija in Es.).  My nickname in high school (Tucson, Arizona) was 'The Lizard!'  I also purchased a beach chair, as I knew I could get it home in Cesar's van.  Note, I do everything via Senor Fetes, even move furniture!
Next, Cesar wanted to go for a swim.  The playa wasn't far, and we were there quickly, parked and waking to the beach.  I was amazed as it was so crowded, and again so many naked people. On the hill above an old Moro fort owned by a doctor.  A man's home is his castle, and this certainly is.  But, the doctor and family was not in attendance.  
We hiked over rocks to an adjacent cove, stunning with it's wind/wave-sculptured cliffs, and aquamarine sea.
Cesar dove in, and I sat dipping my feet into the Mediterraneo for the first time ever.  The water was cool but not cold.
We hiked back and Cesar had a fresh water shower (from a bottle).  I know now what to give him for his birthday, December, 29th.
We drove onto Las Negras, where we had almuerzo (lunch).  This about 1700 hours (everything later in Spain).  Fish again, but the best meal of all, and inexpensive as well.  Cesar had his usual cervesa, me with my usual jugo de whatever.  I'm on 'the wagon' for good!  And no marijuana as well!
We drove back to Monachil in 3 hours, where I fell into bed (2100 hours) after 'humping' up all that I had up to Sonia's house, this including my new beach chair.
Another interesting cycling adventure con Cesar Canavaras, my new, best friend in all of Spain!
Thanks, Cesar!
H.

We love to kill, but it only makes the matter worse!

Ada Lovelace: The First Computer Programmer

Saturday, June 18, 2016

We don't need a 'New Capitalism,' but a new kind of people, that don't make money, God!

American Pathology!

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Cesar surprised me yesterday, inviting me on another cycling adventure (meeting other friends in Almeria fell through for him).  This time to the Almeria desert-coast (southeast some 200KM from Granada).  Of course, I said yes, although exhausted from the first, arriving back in Monachil just yesterday!  We would depart manana, Lunes (Monday), driving to Almeria, first, then setting out on bicycles.
So, quickly, I thought to cycle into Granada, going to Decathon and Carrefour, to get what I thought I would need:  a tent (carpa in Es.) and a lightweight sleeping bag (saco de dormir in Es.).  I didn't think much about either one of these large chains being open on Sunday, I left on hope…
First to Carrefour early, and quickly, as I now know the route.  But, it would not open on Sunday.  Then off to Decathlon, way on the northwest side of Granada.  There's only one Decathon in Granada that I know of.  But, now two months in Granada, I know how to get around via 'Senor Fetes.'  I took the high road, too high actually, and I ended up on a highway departing Granada proper.  I had to double back, and go 'down' or west.  Someday, I'll know the proper way to Decathlon.  Practice makes for perfection!
Decathlon was closed as well.  Ugh!  All that way para nada. 
I decided to have coffee (cafe con leche) and/or desayuno (breakfast) at a nearby MacDonalds.  THEY WERE OPEN!
The computer receipt at MacDonald's, where I had coffee and a chocolate muffin read:  10:06:01 on the 12th of June (Junio in Es.)  This cost all of 1.90E or $2.50U.S.  And actually good!
Oh, how MacDonald's has changed over the years!  I'm not a frequent user, but from time to time in different countries, and this was one of those (last time in The Netherlands, in 2006). 
Since the 'Golden Arches' opened in the U.S. in the 1950s, just one in (research history), it's now a worldwide chain.  Although Evo Morales, El Presidente, de Bolivia, won't allow in Boldivia.   They probably refused to bribe him (how normally done, as they give the politicians an equity position).
Here at this new and improved MacDonald's, you can order inside (of course there's the usual driveup window), via a computer touch screen.  There's also a microwave for customers.  And the employees on this early Sunday morning (only two customers besides me) were young, attractive boys and girls.  Two of them sweeping-moping the floors inside and out.  I was also impressed with the Aseos (bathrooms).  In the 'Hombres' (Men's), not only clean, but an incredible system for the handicapped to get from chair to toilet, AND A CHANGING TABLE for nappies IN THE MEN'S ROOM! Oh, how the world has developed!
I sat outside, next to RONALD'S GYM CLUB!  Yes, besides an area for children, you can work off the fat, you've just ingested.  Amazing to me, all of this, who would have ever thought…?
Actually, way back when (the 1950s) my father and I had had the same idea:  a hamburger chain of stores.  While manager of the Portuguese Bend Club, California, he hired me to work there, helping the woman operate their snack bar.  We offered the best cheese burgers, in the days of real meat and real cheese.  Besides, French fries, cokes, ice cream, and all the rest. Some weekend days we took in $1,000U.S., and that's a lot of hamburgers (hamburguesas in Es.)  But, of course, my father never followed through with the idea, and MacDonalds now part of the history of U.S. commerce (the chain, everywhere).
Yes, the world, including me, has developed!  But, of course, in the case of the world, for better or worse?  Seems worse to me, as money now God!
I'm glad we didn't develop the hamburger chain now, as I can't imagine myself stuck doing such, fast food forever!  Would I be living here in Monachil, Spain, now, having cycled the world?  I think not.  Would have I worked in 'Hollywood' as a screenplay writer?  I think not!  Would I have produced coverage of the DEMO DERBY, in East Islip, N.Y., for ABC'S WIDE WORLD OF SPORTS?  Hopefully not!
H.

Friday, June 17, 2016

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Cycling trip with Cesar… This, south to Mediterranean Sea coast…
Cesar's goal, a beach resort where he had been many times before called, 'Playa Naturista de Cantarrijan.'  This some 20KM west of Almunecar, the largest city on the Med. Sea in the Province of Granada.
Note, Granada Province, one of 7 in the 'Region' of Andalucia, and there are 17 Regions in Spain.  In the U.S. there are 'States.'  In Spain 'Regions.'
I was up at 0430, as we were to meet at the 1st Gate at 0630.  Cesar wanted to beat the heat by going early.
Little did I know what I was getting into, an 18-hour day, some 95KM distance. But, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!
We took off in early morning light, with little traffic.  I followed Cesar through endless residential streets, this way, that way, up and down, eventually to Dilar, a community I knew something about, as I was supposed to live there (another story).  This 'snaking' through several residential communities, was a direct route to the highway we were to take south, highway, A-4050.
I had been told this was the scenic way to the Mediterranean, the first part through rolling farm land, orchards, etc., the second part up through some hills called Sierra de Albunuelas, with 1,500mt. / almost 5K ft. ASL, peaks).  These a part of a Nature Park (not marked on my map as such). At this point the highway starts down to the Sea.
Cesar, some 20 years younger, always faster, but kind enough to wait for the 'Gringo Viejo en Bicicleta.'
We passed a 'park' full of modern windmills (Don Quixote would be amazed!).  The blades barely turning in a light breeze.
There were gravel mines, and trucks carrying such hither and yon…
There were  swarms of 'attack' flies.
After 3.5 hours we stopped at the 'big down,' rested and ate our 'sack lunch.'  This at an abandoned restaurant called,  Mirador de la Cabra Montes, or 'The View from the Goat Hills.' 
There are wild mountain goats in the area.  We saw a few, they're large yet seem semi-tame, or at least not all that concerned about human beings.
I saw in the distance the Med. Sea (hazy grey), for the first time in almost fifty years.  The first time in the military, on a project in Tripoli, Libya (1964).  Note, another 'book.' 
Locally, directly below where we rested and ate lunch, a view of Rio Verde canyon, According to Cesar, this a popular river to float down.
After eating Cesar took a nap (siesta), I took fotographs.  Note, always at www.cyclingpeace.org/gallery/
From there, winding down and down, around and around, above and above some amazing rocky cliffs.  We stopped at one of the water fountains, natural mountain water coming out of a pipe, and safe to drink.  We filled our water bottles.  Across the 'tar,' an arbor de higo -- figs my favorite fruit yet these yet unripe.
Some day, if I ever 'settle down,' I'm going to have a fig tree!  Also, raspberries, or frambuesa in Es.
Again we stopped this time at a pueblo called Otivar, and to sit at a restaurant table.  This to sit during siesta time, the heat and humidity much more, as here, lower in elevation.  We spent an hour, me drinking four small bottles of jugo de pina, Cesar a couple bottles of cervesa.
Not far beyond we stopped again at the site of the VIRGEN DE AGUA. 'She' (her black statue -- I thought of Rotraut.) was a hundred meters off the highway, and we had to push through some soft sand (not easy on a heavy bicycle).  Here we took a nap under the watchful eye of the 'Virgen.'  Note, Cesar took a fotograph of me 'sleeping with the 'Virgen.' 
Of my 18-hour day, the trip taking a total of 13 hours, but of that we rested for three of those.  So, cycling time, 10 hours, an average of 9KM per, which is about normal for me.
Onward, down still more into the city of Almunecar!  This is the largest city on the Med. Sea in the Province of Granada.  And where there is a bus station (we took the bus back to Granada, the following afternoon).   I followed Cesar around him wanting to show me the city.  He was also looking for a POPULAR cajera automatico (ATM) that doesn't charge.  He's always explaining what the other banks do charge for a W/D.  We stopped at a restaurant and sat outside in the shade, a young attractive girl serving us tapas ('horses devours' we used to call them).  Cesar explaining that Granada, the Province, was the only place in Spain that didn't charge for them.  If you purchase a bebidas (drink) they come with.  In this case two tuna sandwiches.  Of course, the brewers and the distillers started this, as helps bring in our new 'God!'
We went on and up on the big highway to Malaga, views of the Sea when I wasn't concentrating on not getting killed.
There were two tunnels, and one of length, almost one kilometer.  Cesar had stopped to wait up for me and explain, this to ride on the narrow walkway.  Whereas easy for him (he has no bags on the front), it was dicey for me.  At one point I jumped off to try walking-pushing, but with no traffic coming I cranked on the road surface.
We finally arrived at the goal, this I think about 1930 hours.  It was a steep descent on a hard surface 'driveway,' maybe one kilometer in length, or so Cesar seemed to know about. 
We ended up at a parking lot, and a fairly sophisticated 'resort,' called, PLAYA NATURISTA DE CANTARRIJAN.  It's a 'nude beach.'  I noticed when Cesar shed all of his clothing, and went into the Med. to swim.  Later he explained he'd been coming here for 25 years!  He knew one of the Moslem employees, the beach guy who was responsible for at the furniture.  Cesar explained how this guy was constantly offended by seeing naked women, as so abhorrent to Islam.  Then, again, the guy had stayed 'getting used to such!'  Ah, we learn to adapt!
I sat on a couch trying to recover from too long on the saddle. It isn't my heart or legs that are a problem tour cycling, but body parts, like my bony ass and weak feet that suffer;  my hand squeezing brakes for 30KM downhill. 
Additionally, I'm not interested in swimming in the oceans.
I have a strange relationship with water.  I don't like it!  Yes, I know we can't live without it, but I ingest it favored in some way, tea, coffee, my 'sports' drink when cycling.  Straight water I only drink when nothing else.  Not only that but I don't bathe often, and try to avoid the stuff generally speaking.  In high school my 'nickname' was 'The Lizard' or largatija in Es.  If you ever can't find me, look for me in the sun.  I'm a high and dry kind of wo/man.
Yes, I've developed my 'anima!'  Thank you C.G.!
Cesar will be surprised to hear this, that I don't like water, as he's very much a 'water' person.  Loves to go for a swim.  He's a Capricorn, the Goat, so must me some kind of 'water goat!'
We had a lovely, yet expensive cena (dinner), fish of course.
Then off to the adjacent beach where to camp, sleep under the stars.  We had no tents (carpas in Es.).  But, you have to negotiate a jutting rock, and when the tide in, a challenge.  That night, however, the tide was out, so the waves, barely wetting the sand we pushed through.
Here, on the other side of the main beach, is an area where people camp (although illegal).  First the sand, then a rocky 'beach,' then a meter high ledge onto a flat, grassed area, where most pitch whatever they have brought (via motor vehicles).  I had to push quite a ways to an area where I could get 'Senor Fetes' up onto the flat.
There were a group of young people, naked of course, sitting in the setting sun.  If I were younger, and not a celibate Taoist monk, no doubt I would check out the woman.  But, at this stage of my life, a naked women, even a young and attractive one, well, out of, not-really-interested and courtesy, I keep their privacy.  And here not a big deal anyway!
I remember years ago living in Portland, Oregon, U.S.A., there's a nude beach we used to attend on the Columbia River.  I went naked there, and got used to such.
Cesar set up down on the beach, me on the flat area.  There are fotos. at www.cyclingpeace.org But, no fotos. of naked people, however, sorry about that.
The sea was calm when we went to lay down. I watched 'Ursula Majors' (the Big Dipper) move across the sky to the south.  I managed to get some hours unconscious, but not many, between ants and mosquitos. I vowed to get a tent for next time. There's nothing worse than a mosquito buzzing in your ear, when trying to rest.
I awoke early of course,  the sea had come up and was thrashing about, no doubt angry for some reason (humans polluting her)!
I ate my fruit and muffin, waiting for Cesar to wake up.
One of the bearded men, in the younger group, came up and started a conversation.  They're always curious about an old man traveling on a bicycle.  He and his woman friend a part of Spain's new age of consciousness.  They have a eco-store up the pike, and are trying to survive selling natural products, and organic this and that.  When Cesar arrived they had a long conversation in Spanish.
By now time to move back, but the tide was in, the waves crashing, and getting around the rock not possible, or the possibility of losing your bicycle to the Sea if you dared -- we were trapped.  We decided to wait, and did for an hour.
Then with the sea out a bit, we timed and ran, got wet, but made it without any disaster.  I've done many things traveling on 'Senor Fetes,' but this was a first!
Breakfast was greasy eggs and bacon, pom frites, but I ate it all.
Then the 'Up.'  We'd talked about this, even Cesar suggesting it was too steep to ride, we'd have to push.  I was surprised to discover that this was the first time he'd ever ridden his bicycle here (from Granada).
Off we went, Cesar first.
I kept going up this 30% grade hill (to the highway).  I stopped once to let my heart rate slow down (max about 120 bpm). Somehow I made it, as much motor traffic coming in the opposite direction (down).  Sometimes I even manage to amaze myself!  I certainly did Cesar.
Back in Andunecar, we first went to the Estacion de Auto Buses.  Cesar wanted to check out the schedule back to Granada, and book. He ran in and out me outside watching bicycles. He cursed the ticket machine.  I remember Rotraut in Germany doing the same.  Then we were off to the sea, as he wanted a last swim before departing.  But, there was no water for shower, so not, back to the Estacion.  And just in time actually -- we would have missed the bus had he swam.  Of course, there are many, so no big deal.  But, I remember thinking, my guarding angels at work again.
I dozed during the 1:15 hour ride back.  On a bicycle ten hours.  Via bus one-tenth the time, but entirely different, of course.  We dozed.
Back in Granada, we rode to 'the best helado (ice cream) in all of the City,' an Italano gilato place that Cesar frequents (he had told me about it before). It was too good, what we had called 'torta' de chocolate.  We sat outside of a driveway on the side where you don't have to pay more.
Here, we parted company, as I had tasks on the way back to Monachil.
I got back, just before dark and went directly to bed.  No bath.
It had been an interesting, as usual, trip with Cesar, my first to the Mediterrean Sea, but I was exhausted!
H.

American Pathology!

Monday, June 06, 2016

The remarkable quote that captures how Muhammad Ali defined leadership - The Washington Post

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Cycling Sabados…
My day up the mountain…
I cooked millet (mijo in Es.) for desayuno (breakfast in English).  This with yogurt and miel (honey in English).
By the way, millet is basically bird food.  But, guess what is the strongest muscle of any living thing?  The muscle in a bird's wing, particularly in the Albatross, who can fly thousands of miles without stopping, eating, or sleeping (they doze while flying).  So, eat millet if you want strong muscles, boys!
I was outside at 0800, and barely light.
Note, the clock here in this time zone, Spain, oriented to later.  I get up in the dark and go to sleep when still light.  Their schedule, basically 1000 to 2200 hours, mine from 0600 to 1800 hours.
I departed at 0845, and getting warm already. 
In this kind of climate, like Bolivia, if the sun is shinning, it's warm to hot.  If cloudy, it's cool to cold (inside of concrete edificios).
Starting out I didn't feel particularly strong, but I persevered.  The first (and last) part of this climb, 7KM to the top is particularly steep.  In one place at the very top, a 30% grade. 
I have a pain in my chest now, which concerns me, but I can't figure out if it's angina or an ulcer.  It seems to go away with stress, and isn't always when I cycle.  I first noticed it back in Cochabamba, cranking up Av. Los Robles.  But, as a safe guard I've added vitamina E, and Hawthorn Berries to my diet, both support the blood, the heart.  I've always said I wouldn't die of a heart attack, but who knows?  In Es., quien sabe?
In two hours I was at the top, my usual time.  I rested twice.  At the top, I stopped again, just to catch my breath.  The last 50KM is a bitch, the 30% grade as mentioned.  And this after going, up and up for two hours. 
Ideally, as cyclists we would prefer the most difficult in the middle, as warmed up, but not after so many hours.  But, you hardly ever get this.  For some reason, the steepest generally at the beginning and the end.  Why?  I'm not sure, maybe poor planning, maybe has to do with the route around private property, etc.  But, it's a general observation, and all around the world roughly the same.
At the very top is a small community, a restaurant, and a camping facility.  But, beyond, it opens up into a valley, that has gotten my attention.  I'm somehow enamored of this area (foto. included).  It's like I've always been looking for a place like this, all my life, to life (where to 'die')!   There's something about it, a deja vu feeling, 'I've been here before!'
From the top, you go down, and then back up of course.   The highway on the north side of this 'valley' or at the bottom.  What's intriguing to me, is the south side, a green slope, coming down from some elevation.  But, with manmade square sections.  Obviously, these are for growing something.  This area has many orchards (huertas in Es.).  Whatever, the area beckons to me!
You know land, the continents, have moved over millions of years -- Gaia, the earth, is a living thing.  This area could have been Scotland, 100 million years ago, who knows. 
One of the most amazing things I discovered, geologically speaking, was when hiking in the 'mountains' of far west Texas (years ago)..  I found out they were a coral reef in the Pacific Ocean 300 million years ago -- that they had evolved, moving, and became these mountains.  So, maybe the land, this valley, I'm describing, has some connection to my 'genes' of the past.  Quien sabe?
At the top on the east end, is a picnic area to the left, with two roads to the right.  I stopped and ate my energy bar at one of the concrete tables (governments want them to last.  But, I long for wooden tables, etc.)
From this second 'crest' you coast down through a dense pine forest meeting highway A-395, the main route up to the top where there is a ski resort. 
This, is my goal, the summit, and to make it all the way in one day (and maybe back).  I think it's something like 30 to 40KM, one way, from Monachil.  So, every 'Cycling Sabados,' I go up, and farther every time. 
A-395, has less of a grade, with a better surface, so it's actually easier.  I kept going, never sure how far I can make it at my age.   But, here, the traffic, and on a Saturday, mucho!  Cars, trucks, and the most annoying of all young men on Japanese motos., their high-whinning RPM shrill unpleasant to the ear, at least mine.  They go as fast as possible as in a race (too must TV).  There are also many young men (some women) in their lycra-spandex, on their racing bikes going as fast as possible.  They see me, and acknowledge, as in 'What's he doing up here, on that loaded bicycle?'  I'm the only one, doing what I do -- living on a bicycle, carrying weight, going slowly.  But, I think they respect me!
From the junction it's about 9KM to the Visitors Center.  This, where Cesar waited for me several weeks ago (when Inaki was visiting).  Cesar wanted to show me the relief map inside, orienting me to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, the National Park. Then we went down, via a winding road, all the way to Guejar Sierra, where we met up with Inaki, had a nice lunch, etc..  That was then, this was another day!
I kept going up, slightly amazed I'd made it this far.  The day of Cesar and Inaki we had loaded the bicycles into his van and drove up with first 7KM.  Today, I'd managed on Senor Fetes all the way!
The Visitor's Center is located at a junction.  The old highway continues up a different direction,  the new highway (A-395) takes another route.  The old highway supposedly only for cyclists, but there was motor traffic as well.  I went up looking for a place to have my lunch, rest, enjoy the view.  I'd gone up far enough.
The first place I thought about was the gate to some private property.  There was a chain and a sign saying, NO TRESPASSING!  In Es. 'Zona Privada!  Prohibido el paso!'  Of course, I had no desire to 'trespass,' just wanted to lean Senor Fetes against the chain, and have lunch.  But, as soon as I did, the chain broke, and fell to the ground.  I though, no problem, I'll just reconnect.  But, the paddle lock was closed (locked), so I didn't know what to do, or how this could happen.  I decided to leave it where it was, on the ground, and continue up.
I went up another kilometer, found a spot, and parked/leaned Senor Fetes against the guard rail.  I sat down on a rock and partook of my cheese sandwich, tomatoes, olives and pickles.  When the rock became to hard, I moved my bony behind to the ground.  Here noticed many ants.  I gave them the wrapping from my chocolate muffin, crumbs, etc., sugar, for them if them wanted.  Interestingly, one of them, with a large morsel, went slightly crazy, like it was 'gold.'  He started running fast in circles, and then finally down their hole (entrance).  I like feeding things, particularly the birds.
After finishing eating, I searched the area for a spot to 'siesta.'  The day perfect for such, warm, sunny.  You always feel slightly 'tired' after eating -- or, I do at my age!
There was nothing, so I pushed Senor Fetes up another 50 meters, leaned him against the guard rail (I love these.), and found a place to lay down on the grouond, just on the other side.  This just meters off the highway.
I hadn't dozed but a few minutes when I was awakened by a man stopped in an official vehicle asking me if I was O.K. ('Buen?').  I sat up and answered, 'Si!  No es problema!'  Now, would this happen in Bolivia?  There they rob you!
After a short nap, I packed up and headed down again.  I think it was something like 1330 hours.  It had taken 4 hours to get where I was.  But, I didn't want to go any higher, always thinking about the return. And on this route, it isn't all downhill, but two to climb up.   I'm someone with mucho experiencia climbing/cranking up mountains, and from Colorado Rockies to the Himalaya in Tibet, China.  Little by little we'll make it up and up, every Sabado.  I'm in no hurry!
It only took 1.5 hours to get back to the house in Monachil, the total day's trip around six,  I was back by 1500 hours, a perfect cycling day!
Best of all, Nature 'had called' twice during the day.  Ah, it's the little things in life when you're my age!  Younger people don't know about!
Back in Sonia's house, I took a hot bath (I'm loving her bath tub), used her washing machine (Yep, back in civilization.), and cooked artichokes (alfacachofa in Es.) para cena (for dinner).  I then finished Elena Ferrante's third episode in her THE NEOPOLITAN SERIES, a book entitled, THOSE WHO STAY, AND THOSE WHO GO!
I'm one who goes!
H.

Sunday, June 05, 2016

Shocking scenes at disabled protest in Bolivia | euronews, world news

He was the most charismatic professional athlete I knew.

American Pathology!

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For women, from Carla Lonzi, via Elena Ferrante's THOSE WHO LEAVE AND THOSE WHO STAY,
Paraphrased as I substitute the phrase 'spit on,' to 'fuck!"
"Fuck the following:
Hegel,
The culture of men.
Marx,
Engels,
Lenin,
On historical materialism
Freud,
Psychoanalysis,
Penis envy!
Marriage,
Family,
Nazism,
Stalinism,
Terroism,
War,
Class struggle,
The dictatorship of the proletariat.
On
Socialism,
Communism,
The trap of equality.
All the manifestations of patriarchal culture,
It's institutional forms!
Resist the waste of female intelligence!
Deculturate, Disacculturate, starting with maternity!
Don't have children!
Get rid of the master-slave dialectic.
Rip inferiority from our (female) brains!
Restore women to themselves!
Don't create antitheses.
Move on another plane in the name of one's own difference.
The University doesn't free women, but completes the repression,
Against wisdom!
Men devote themselves to undertakings in space, in life, yet for women on this planet such has yet to begin!
Woman is the other face of the earth!
Woman is the Unpredictable here, now, in the present!"
H.
P.S.  I agree with, but women should know one thing… your day is dawning, with the Age of Kalki and the Age of The Guan Yin!  The 'Old Patriarchy' is dying!  Read Riane Eisler's THE CHALLICE AND THE BLADE!'

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Big day in Granada…
I departed at 0800 for Gobierno de Extranjeros, as was to pick up my NIE #.  This necessary to open a bank account -- muy importante in my quest for a residence visa.
I was early, as had cycled the route before.  But, where I had to go was on the opposite side of Granada from Monachil.  When I checked my watch after locking Senor Fetes to a tree, it had taken 50 minutes.    Already there was a line, and I was maybe 10 back.  But, I didn't have to wait long, as had no 'ticket' (boleta in Es.), just had been told to return in one week. 
First you go through 'security,' of course.  An X-ray machine scanning your backpack, and then walking through a metal detector.  The security woman made me leave my small bag of tools (herramienta(s)), in which I have my Swiss Army knife, scissors (unas tijeras in Es.) and nail clippers with her.  She put on the top of a nearby cabinet, which concerned me -- will there be there later?  Obviously they don't confiscate many, or would have an official place to keep them, like a locker.
Then, right into the office where the 'official' women presided.  One of them, not a very happy woman, checked my passport (always) and then gave me a document.  She said, 'Go to the bank and pay!' in Espanol.
I departed and headed for Triodos, the bank where I was going to open an account.  But, there I discovered they don't do such services.  On to Popular Banco, nearby.  They did the 'deed' took the 17E or $20U.S. 
Of course, you never do anything at a  government that you don't have to pay.  In fact, if the truth be known, they exist to get money from the citizenary. 
My definition of Government:  A SMALLER GROUP OF PEOPLE, CONTROLLING A LARGER GROUP OF PEOPLE, FOR FUN AND PROFIT!
I cycled back to the Policia edificio, and now, having been there earlier didn't have to do the security 'thing,' and carrying my bag through the metal detector setting it off because of my keys.  This didn't cause them any concern.  They recognize older U.S. citizens as no threat.  The woman in the office, after she scanned the document to see if I'd, in fact, paid, handed me my NIE # document without comment.  She was engaged with some other officials.  I got outta there, as don't like the energy in Government buildings.
Now, on to Decathlon, to shop.  Note, I had a bunch of things to do in Granada proper, one had to do with purchasing things I need.
First, however, and outside on one of their picnic tables, I ate a snack, an orange and a muffin.  Already it was 1100, and I eat a small desayuno (breakfast) very early, like 0700.  Cycling develops a good appetite, and it had been four hours.
I love shopping at Decathlon, a French chain, that Alicia in Madrid had introduced me to when I stayed with them (Alvaro, and son, Oscar).  This is my kind of store, with all the kind of items that I need, having to do with living outside on a bicycle.  I spent some 60E, or $75U.S.  I bought a bicycle pump (bomba in Es.), a camping teapot, a compass, some new WD-40 'dry' lubricant for bicycle chains, some shorts, etc.  I also looked at a reclining chair I want, but it cost 40E, and too bulky to attach to the rack on 'Senor Fetes'  (I'll need Cesar's van to get back to Monachile with such.)  Then I took the time to search for some sandals -- I've never worn a pair of such).  But, the ones I thought were best, MERRILL by brand name, cost 60E / $75U.S., and didn't want to spend that much in one day.
Spain is much more expensive than Bolivia, but then again, the selection/quality much higher as well.  You get what you pay for!
One of my tasks that day was to rent a post office box, (alquilar bozon in Es.) as www.amazon.com (books) won't deliver up to Monachil. So, back down into Centro (Decathlon, is way out north in a suburb.).  I'd been to this Correos (near the RR Estacion) before, recently, as it's a W.U. station' as well.  I was there efficiently as I'm getting to know how to get about in Granada proper. 
I don't always know the name of the streets, but know which to take.  Additionally, in Granada, possibly other Latin American cultures, they change the name of the street often.  So, you're never quite sure which calle (street) you're on at the moment.
Again, as in last time I was in this correos, there were many customers waiting.  But, I didn't have to wait long (never quite understood this,  many people, but short wait?).  Since I'd seen what I thought were post office boxes, I thought this was the place to rent one.  I also had a postcard to mail to my sister Sally.  But, not knowing the correct Spanish, renting a box became a fiasco, and I departed without. 
Next to open an account at Triodos Banco.  I was nearby the Banco when I remembered I wanted to purchase another Elena Ferrante novel.  Reading books, besides cycling, is what I do!  I quickly diverted (sometimes my brain works) to Babel Liberia, my new, favorite book store in Granada.  At Babel I found the book I wanted (THOSE WHO STAY AND THOSE WHO LEAVE, Ferrante's third in her Neopolitan series).  I then went in search for a mapa of Morocco.  I  couldn't find, so I bought one of France, and one of the Sierra Nevada National Park (Parque Nacional SIERRA NEVADA, Alpujarra Almeriense - Rio Naimineto in Es.).
On to Triodos Banco to open an account, and luckily not far away from Babel Liberia.  The bank is located on the fashionable and main boulevard called, GRAN VIA DE COLON ('The great way of Columbus!')  I was hoping it was still open, as now 1300 hours when I reached and locked 'S.F.'  I happily discovered it was open until 1500 hours, but there were several people waiting before me.  I reminded myself the best time to do business is early, as 'the early bird gets the worm!' 
After maybe a ten-minute wait I ended up with a young woman named Maria.  This was the same woman I'd asked about paying for my NIE #, when there earlier that morning.  I wondered if she remembered me.  Whatever, she turned out to be, I think 'persevering,' is the right word to describe her.  She didn't speak much English, and opening an account, wow… It's all done online now, with many questions.  At one point it seemed doubtful because I'm not a residence, but she found a way around it, and continued.  At one point, she asked a woman, who she must have known knew English, to translate something for her.  It had to do with how much money would be cycled through the account.  The woman explained, in English, that there was a new gobierno law, that has to do with money-laundering.  Now, account holders must give the bank some idea about how much money is going through the account.  If suddenly there's a large amount deposited, they get suspicious that some 'laundering' is going on and have to call the policia.  I explained that my average monthly balance, would only be around 1K Euro, that I am a 'small-time' customer living on a pension.  It was a humorous moment for me, them worried that I'm going to 'launder' money through this account.   
Gobiernos, so paranoid in this day and age.  But, we have only ourselves to blame, as money has become 'God,' and people will do anything to get it.
The entire process of opening an account, even with Maria, took TWO HOURS!  Then the news that I have to return a week from Friday the 10th to collect my bank card, etc. The bank card costs something like $20U.S., but you can't pay for it in cash.  This bank, doesn't deal in cash (no tellers, etc.).  Cash can only be deposited at their ATM (cajero automatico in Es.).  So, tell me, how can I pay for the card, without the card?  I guess I will get the card from one of the employees, and then go deposit the money in the ATM machine.  All of this too crazy for me, I'm getting to old!  I'm surprised she didn't ask to take my finger prints or a foto. -- they do in Bolivia!
I thanked Maria, giving her my postcard.  She was actually very good, but two hours, my God!  I got her carjeta (business card) and will send her a 'thank you.' message, offer to write a letter of reco. to her boss.
I quickly departed the bank, as it was now 1500 hours, and I wanted to complete my day in Granada, by obtaining a post office box.  After the fiasco at the first Correos (because I didn't know the correct Spanish), I used my dictionary, and got the 'open sesame' words:  'alquilar buzon!'   And using one of my city maps, I discovered the location right in the center of Granada, better I thought than the one near the RR station -- ah, things always work out. 
Note, I just happened to have purchased the 'right' city mapa, which identified such things.  The commercial one, with all the ADS, had the correos near the RR station identified, BUT NOT THE MAIN ONE!  Ah, how they make maps now!
There, on the main floor of the Main Post Office (Correos Principal in Es.), many people were waiting for their number to be called, a crowd, confusion, etc..   I found and waited at the 'Information counter.'  After waiting for several to be served the woman, after I said the proper Spanish words for what I wanted ('alquilar buzon'), directed me downstairs.  Ah, it's all in knowing the proper words, the language!  You can imagine dealing with such in China!
Downstairs, I was lucky, as didn't have to wait at all.  It process here seemed fairly efficient compared to Bolivia.  But, the fee, 30E or $35U.S. for three months (only), I thought excessive.  I got my 'buzon,' however, #35!  The woman even showed me, how to open with the key (lleve in Es.). But, only one key for 30E!  Ah, governments, they know how to get our money!
Now, about 1600 hours, or 4P.M., in your language, I decided I still had time to go two more places, before heading back up the hill to Monachil.
First, I wanted to stop at the bicycle shop (taller de bicicleta in Es.), that Cesar had showed me. This one more 'upscale' than Indian's, where I liked as near Salva's, and Oscar, the mechino, and Antonio, the owner, friendly.  But, this one, Bicicletas La Estacion, sells Brooks saddles, and I've wanted one for a long time.  But, first things first.  This time I wanted to get a quote on two more urgent items, an X.T. Deore, 9-speed cassette, and a Shimano chain (cadena in Es.).   Antonio (common name in Latin cultures), the proprietor, remembered me, 'El Gringo viego en bicicleta.'  The total, for both is something like $120U.S.  But, I spare no expensive when it comes to 'Senor Fetes!'   The best stuff makes a difference when you're 'out there!'  Additionally, they endure!  I told him I'd think about it and if 'yes,' I'd come by to advance the dinero (he said it takes five days, which means ten in Spanish).  I wanted to consult with my bicycle guru, Melvin, in The Netherlands, to compare prices.  But, most likely I'll purchase from La Estacion, Antonio, as I like to support the local people!  And I don't think Indian Antonio can do such.
Next, the Eco-Mercado, where I dropped another 25E, meeting Romu, the proprietor, in the process.  He's got all the good stuff, including brown rice, millet, raw cashews, etc.  And buen pan (whole wheat with various seeds, etc.).
By now, however, it was 1830 hours, and I wanted out of Granada. I'd been running around the city for 11 hours. 
I got back 'home,' in Monachile, at 1930 hours, finding a note that Cesar had left for me to read.  Seems he'd made an appointment for us at the Immigration lawyer's that very day.  Of course, I didn't know about such, don't have a tele. (yet). and Cesar wrote that if he didn't hear from me he would reschedule.
Cesar such a great friend!  I am O Lucky Man!  'If you have a friend upon which you can rely, you are a lucky man!' (lyrics from the mopic, by Alan Price).
H.