Date:                           January 26, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0830

            How do you diplomatically tell a volunteer that, “It is not about you?”  The phrase is one that Connie and I learned and had drilled into our heads from our experience with Kenyon International.  When we are deployed as a family assistance member on a team for Kenyon we are constantly reminded that, while we are on deployment we must always remember that, “It is not about you.”  As a member of the team we are but a tool to be used by the client in whatever manner they deem necessary.  It is a simple concept, but one that is difficult to understand and employ.  It can be especially difficult to fully understand and personify when you are a volunteer.

            A volunteer is a special breed of animal.  In our association with NOMADS Connie and I have met some of the greatest people one could imagine.  I must honestly admit that I have not found a true affinity with everyone that we have met, and yet I have the deepest respect and admiration for each and every team member with whom we have shared our experiences.  The teams are comprised of retired, hard working people that have decided not to set around and play canasta all day.  They each have already spent a lifetime of working and providing for their families and now that they have reached a plateau deserving of rest and relaxation, they have decided to work long hard days serving the most needy of society.  On days when the multitude of retirees rise from bed to chase a little white ball or search out the nearest buffet these NOMADS rise early with the aches and pains of the previous day to spend another full day at hard labor.  They work selflessly and unsupervised at providing as much aid to the organization they are volunteering with as possible.  At the end of the day the NOMADS do not sit their collective fat behinds on a bar stool, but instead search the medicine cabinet for the bottle of Motrin to help sooth the new and old aches of a full days work.  These volunteer geriatrics then prepare to repeat the day’s labor in the approaching days to come.  They do this, not for materialistic gains, or reward, but to simply serve the neediest of society.  How do I tell them, “It is not about you?”

            The “It is not about you” philosophy is more about an attitude than an egotistical disclaimer.  As a volunteer one of the most difficult things to remember is that you are a tool. You are not an executive, even if you were one in your previous working life.  You are not a counselor, even if you have been trained.  You are not a craftsman, even if that is how you have always earned your living and partially why you became a volunteer. You are a tool and should be at the direction of the agency with which you are now associated.  If you think they need screws in the wall and they want nails, you use nails.  If you think you should be working at 8:30 and they have yet to give you an assignment, you wait patiently.  You are a tool and to be used as they see fit, and not as you know you could be useful.  It is not about you.

            It is understandable that you want to be, and do the best that you can.  You want to be the most benefit you possibly can be to the people whom you have chosen to help. You want to help them as much as you can.  But, it is not about you.  The best you can be is to be the best they can use at their discretion and direction.  The most benefit that you can be, is to be a fluid integration into their system helping the flow of efforts and not another obligation.  You can, sometimes, be of more help by not helping than you can by getting in the way with new on solicited opinions.  It is not about you.

            Volunteering is not easy.  It is not easy for many reasons, but is the most difficult when you realize you might have to change a few of your life earned opinions.  A hammer does not choose the nail it hits, nor does it complain if it is used as a door stop.  It is a good tool.  A screwdriver does not segregate the screws with whom it will circulate, nor does it really complain if it is used to pry open a paint can.  It is a good tool.  A wood chisel may be rendered less effective if it is used as a screwdriver, but it does not complain about its assignment.  It simply attempts to complete whatever chore it is assigned with as much proficiency as it can.  It can be a good tool, doing things it may not have been designed to accomplish.  The hammer, screwdriver and even chisel realize that it is not about them it is about the completion of the task at the direction of the user. It is not about being used wisely, especially as a volunteer.  It is about being of use.

            I do not want to be derogatory to, or about, volunteers.  I was a very slow learner in my earliest endeavors at offering my aid.  I thought that part of what I had to offer was by past experience and leadership talents.  I thought that I had a sense of situational demands and could appraise a situation and offer beneficial advice.  I thought it was about how I could be most beneficial to the agency to which I was offering my service.  I thought, - - - - I wanted,   - - - -  I needed to be of help.  But it was not about me, it was about me becoming a tool.  A volunteer can offer advice, he or she can propose a different path to satisfactory completion, but they must always, first and foremost, be of service.  If that means standing around with a smile, practice in front of a mirror.  If that means painting over soon to be destroyed wall, get your brush.  If that means doing whatever it is you think is not needed to be done, either smile and proceed or find a golf course near by where you can chase a little white orb.  It is not about you, it is about service.

            The rewards of volunteering are far too numerous for me to begin to explain.  Most of the time, the people you meet while working on a project are more than just fantastic, they are truly the children of God.  It is not for selfish reason that they approach a project with an arrogant demeanor.  It is just that they really want to do as much as they can and bring as positive an energy direction as possible to the proposed project.  It is just a little perspective twist that they may need to investigate.  The service that a volunteer offers must be valued through the eyes of the receiver.  The service must be a positive experience from the receiver’s perspective.  The whole experience is spiritually valuable from the volunteer’s point of view, and productively valuable form the agency’s perspective.

            It is a simple phrase, but can be difficult to live.  “It is not about you.”

Date:                           January 25, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0730

            Reaching the age and ability to retire is a milestone in most people’s lives.  My wife and I choose to attain that status in life a little bit earlier than most and have not been sorry.  It may not have been the most intelligent decision that we have ever made and then again it may have been the very best life choice we have ever made.  It really does not matter whether it was a stroke of geniuses or a temper tantrum acted out.  It was a choice that we made and a choice that we are living.

            One may ask, “Where in the heck is he going with this?”  One may be right to wonder.  My point is that Connie and I are living a life that is just a bit off center.  We live in a very nice home, only it has wheels and a big engine.  We have been getting up early and going to work, and yet have are retired.  We are meeting new friends and yet in a week or so we will probably never see most of them a gain.  This is just a snap shot of our life and yet we feel it is normal.  We also are enjoying it to the fullest.

            As our first project in Phoenix comes to a close we are planning on staying here for another three weeks and continuing on our assigned chores.  This is a second NOMADS project in a year when we had chosen not to do any.  This is a second of three projects in a year that had us scheduled for none.  We may be enjoying our life so much because it is never routine and seldom is scheduled.  The advantage of this life style is that we can make plans and those plans can change on a whim most over night.  Boredom is not an option unless we really work at it.

            In my retired, lethargic life yesterday I got up before the sun; I spent most of the day being a phone installer and splicer; rode around on a small delivery truck to enjoy our two daily breaks; and made a collage of pictures to be presented to our team at the close of this project; plus I helped my wife be a mass mailing stamper and delivery person.  It was quite a normal day in the life of the traveling Shelanskeys.

             I did not have an epiphany or a major need to rail on about the failings of our dysfunctional government.  For this you might give thanks.  I did have a few moments of reflection on the attitudes of some people and their relationships with the people that they have chosen to serve, but I will save those for another day.  It is time for this retired old duffer to go to work now and have the most enjoyable day of any working stiff out there.  I am going to work purely because I want to and doing service for people that need my attention.  Sometimes I just can’t help but feel blessed. I hope that you too can retire early and come and enjoy me in my large symbolic sandbox of life. We can always use a few more hammer pounders, or paint brush pushers and of course we can always find room for a few more in the car on the way to the nearest buffet.

Date:                           January 24, 2007

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0730

            Our third week at UMOM is winding down and we are nearly at the end of our first project.  It has not seemed like 3 weeks, but then it never does seem as long when you reflect on the work that has been done and the time spent doing it.  The team has worked very well together and I have had a chance to learn a few personality growth skills.  It has been a good project.

            When we started this project a member made a “joke” that I found very offensive and quite out of place.  As we were driving from our parking spot to a work site a less than well dressed man was walking close to the edge of the road.  Dave, our leader and driver, mentioned that he was fearful that the man might step into traffic and cause him some trouble.  The team member said, I hope in jest, “So be it, it would be one less homeless person.”  He immediately apologized for the off color remark and the incident was dropped.  Dropped for most, but a very irritating moment for me.  I could not find any humor in the statement and found little reason to forgive his indiscretion.  From that moment on, I decided to find work in other places and not have to relate to this Neanderthal on any terms if at all possible.

            As happens in life when one needs to make a few life growth steps this decision on my part was not to be allowed.  For most of the first week and the start of the second week things went well.  At the end of the second week a job came up that needed to have two people work alone in a room and redo the bathroom.  We had to tear out a shower and rebuild the room from the rafters out.  Guess who got assigned to that job. Yep, I was now locked in a small room with the one person that I had been trying to avoid.  I was given an opportunity to grow.

            The project is almost complete.  I am still alive and so is my team member.  I have learned that sometimes you should not judge quite so quickly, and that sometimes I may be a bit to quickly sensitive.  I have learned that even inside a perceived bigot and racist there can live a feeling and sensitive person.  I have also learned that a person does not always have to discuss politics and social philosophy.  I have learned that you can carry on a conversation with some one and not have to tread on there feelings or your own attitudes.  Given a proper objective and chore to accomplish two divergent opinionated people can work together in harmony.  It was a good growth opportunity for me.

            As our last week comes to an end Connie and I are seriously thinking about staying here for another three weeks and joining the next team.  I guess that this project has been pretty good.  I may even have a few more growth opportunities on the horizon.  You are never too old to learn; even I can improve given the chance.

Date:                           January 20, 2007

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

1030

            We have finished two of our three weeks on this NOMADS project and we are getting ready to complete our first NOMADS assignment.  Working in Phoenix has been both a blessing and a chance to experience some personal growth.  I even had a chance to take my wife out on a date.  We also have had a chance to regain our frustration with our Hydro-Hot system on our RV.  I am beginning to have an all too familiar relationship with Ken, our repair technician in Tucson.  It appears that Connie and I are going to be spending a few more days in Tucson at the end of this week.  Owning an RV can be a great experience and a pain in the ass.  We have been traveling down both of those highways this year.

            Yesterday after completing our laundry chores Connie and I enjoyed a day out on a real date, sort of.  We had a great hamburger at a TGIF and then went to a movie. I know that does not sound exciting, but it is a neat thing to take your wife on a date.  I probably should do that more often, as should we all.  Just because you are married is no reason to not enjoy a date with the person you love and with whom you have chosen to spend the rest of your life.  The movie we saw was “Freedom Writer’s” and is very apropos to the project that we are working on in Phoenix.  It is about a teacher in the projects of Long Beach, California and her relationship with her students.  The administration and society had written these children off as lost and she did not accept that appraisal of their abilities.  I will not go through the whole movie.  It is something that most people should see and try to appreciate the reality of the situation that is depicted.  It is a story that is based on truth and fact and the movie will cause you to leave the theatre emotionally affected.  I left with a tear in my eye and a large feeling of anger in my heart.  I was not sure if I wanted to cry or kick someone.

            I must digress just a little to explain a moment that I experienced this week.  It is also an experience of positive and negative energy that emanated from the same moment.  It is a story of two faces.

            Our part of the NOMADS team had been assigned the chore of transporting a supply of clothing and new shelving to the “Over Flow” area of UMOM. This is a warehouse that has been converted into a homeless shelter for people that do not qualify as part of the New Life program at the UMOM facility where we are now parked; thus the “Over Flow” designation.  The facility is located in the inner city area of Phoenix and homeless residents are bused in each evening as need requires.  Each day they are expected to leave the shelter and return to what ever semblance of life that they have.  When we arrived at the shelter the facility was almost clear of people except for the daily workers and the volunteers that were scheduled to work there.  There were a few stragglers in the facility attempting to see a case worker or accomplish whatever tasks they had for the day.  Some of the homeless were actually volunteering to help clean and maintain the facility.  They were not so much different than we NOMADS.  Giving of themselves, simply because work needed to be done and they had the spare time and will to help.

            As we were unloading the truck and building the new shelves I was able to speak to some of the people at the shelter and notice others that were almost in a world of their own.  I can not imagine the feelings and emotions of a mother being in a situation that caused her to carry her children from shelter to shelter as an “Over Flow” homeless parent.  I can not imagine the pain and fear that must be in her heart and soul as she is totally dependent on what ever charity she can get to feed her baby.   I would not even begin to describe the emotional state that she must be experiencing.  I do know that seeing one such mother and her little baby taught me more in a flash of a few seconds than I can ever explain.  It was a story of two faces.

            The child was about 18 months or maybe 2 years old and had the energy that one might expect.  As I entered the huge warehouse room with my hands full of shelving the little tike came up to me and smiled with a face of love and brightness that is expected in any normal circumstance.  His eyes were as bright as Christmas lights and his smile as innocent as any 2 year olds smile could be.  He was running around, never leaving his mother’s side by too much, but still exploring as much as his two year old adventuresome bravery would allow.  He did not know that he was homeless, and his face did not look any less beautiful and captivating for his situation.  If he had been removed form this setting he would have fit perfectly in any average comfortable home surrounding in America.  His smile would melt the heart of a snowman and he was a 2 year old with the wonder and charm of a full life ahead of him.  We exchanged hellos and smiles and I was warmed by his presence and my opportunity to meet him.

            I look away from him for a second and saw his mother standing near a case worker.  I was to be taken form the elevated experience of a enjoying the smile of a small child to the depths of despair deeply seated in this young girls eyes.  She was, maybe, 18 to 20 years old and looked every year of that age.  Her face was very pale and ashen with an extremely thin and sunken pallor look.  She reminded me of the two children that are shielded under the cloak of Christmas Present in Dickens “A Christmas Carol.”  But it was her eyes that will forever be emblazoned in my memory.  She had the bluest of blue eyes that looked to be lost and empty.  It was not the normal look of fear that I saw, nor was it the look of despair that I felt.  It was as if there was little life at all emanating from behind the orbs that were in the place of where her eyes should have been.  If the eyes are a picture of a person’s soul, I fear that this soul appeared to have so little life that I can not imagine the pain it must have experienced to shut down so completely.

            I am not really sure what it is I can do with this experience of two faces.  I have seen the energy and beauty of ignorance in the face of a 2 year old not yet aware of life’s problems and the effect of despair on his young mother who has experienced all too much at her very early age.  I fear that this beautiful child will, one day, be another lost soul waiting in line for a homeless shelter case worker, or worse.  Not because he is a bad person, or a societal failure, but, because he will learn from his surroundings and experiences.  Given the opportunity to replicate his mother’s life I fear he will succeed.  I feel that we as a society will loose another soul.  Given the opportunity to be transported from his station in life one can only imagine the potential that lives within this young child and maybe even still within his mother.

            It is from this point that I bring my blog full circle.  My date with my wife took us to a movie and a story about someone that found a way to offer transportation form one station in life to another for a group of children in California.  My view into the two faces of despair, one with knowledge of life’s pitfalls and one with no idea what life is about caused me to cry and feel satisfied at the same time.  I am offering myself to serve all of God’s children, and yet there are so many still living in a world that I truly do not understand.  I will not criticize what I do not know, and I do not know the lives these people must live.  I will, however, feel the empty glare of this young child mother that stood in front of me with the emptiness of despair and failure in her beautiful blue eyes. 

Date:                           January 16, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0730

            Writing a blog is a lot like making a sculpture out of sandy soil.  You can collect large amounts of stuff and try to mold it into something of substance, but if there is no compelling joining compound the sculpture or story just falls into a big lump.  What is he saying and why am I reading this mumbling?  I am sure that is what is running through your mind now.  The answer is that I am saying a little bit of nothing and that is pretty much the amount of excitement that filled yesterday.

            We got up way too early and went to work on a National holiday and came home a little early.  From that list of daily facts there is little from which to draw a daily blog.  The “women’s work” was so strenuous that they were finished before lunch and all gathered in cars to come out to the “men’s work” to see what we were doing.  It was not much.  We were putting a lot of paint on old dirty walls of a closed down food pantry.  I know, the excitement of the day just spins your mind almost out of control.

            The afternoon of my wife was spent making me a lemon pie.  I am not sure she was having much fun. When I finally got home form my strenuous day of doing little,  Connie was in our little kitchen saying things to our egg beater that I didn’t believe she knew.  It seems that the eggs were not behaving and the yellow of the lemon pie filling was becoming a sharp contrast to the blue air in mororhome.  I am sure that the pie will be much better than she thinks.  I also hope that the eggs she through out will find a home someplace.

            I spent most of my evening in a much more cerebral endeavor.  I was learning to use my new Google Earth program. It is a mapping software that you can download from the web for free.  I can now zoom in on any place on earth just like the news reporters (I use that term loosely) do on the evening entertainment shows that pass themselves as news programs.  It is a little scary to be able to zoom in a single house and spin the display so that you can almost look in a window.  On my program this is an electronic illusion and a computer piece of magic.  One can only attempt to imagine what the real spies of the world can do with access to real time satellite imagery and state of the art computer technology.  Maybe that is a thought we should not investigate.  It is too early in the morning for me to be that sacred and/or angry.

            It is almost time to go and find new adventure at our project.  It is not that the time here is boring or wasted.  It is just that it is not terribly exciting.  I think that may be a good thing.  It is allowing this old damaged body to regain some of the mobility it once had with a lot less pain than it has had.  If something news worthy happens today I will share it with you on my next blog.  If not I will bore you again with a trip through my rather vacant cavern called my mind.

Date:                           January 15, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0730

            We attend church for many reasons and some of them are even good reasons.  We attend to be seen and to see others; this may not be the best of reasons.  We attend church to strengthen our religion; this is not the best reason in my mind, but that is another very long blog.  Some of us attend church to expand and reflect on our faith; this is a lot different than strengthening our religion, but like I said that is a very long blog that would, I am sure, irritate many people.  I attend church to hear the sermon and to enjoy the performance of good music.  I am not sure if this is the best reason, or if it is even a good reason, but it is my reason.

            Connie and I, along with most of the NOMADS team, returned to the Central Methodist Church in downtown Phoenix on this Sunday. They, again, provided a wonderful fulfillment of the musical desires of mine.  The magnificent pipe organ was not the main performer on this morning, but it was an integral part of the service and as such I was very happy.  The organ is about to under go a large repair and refurbishing project and during the service we were to experience why a church might spend the huge amounts of money that I am sure will be needed to pay the German experts that will complete the job.  A valve or stop or something stuck during one of the hymns and at the end of the song the organist had to run back behind the organ pipes and bang or kick something to get the 2000 cycle squeal to stop.  He managed to accomplish his repair mission and return for the next hymn as if nothing had happen.  He may have been a bit winded, but the next hymn filled the cathedral right on cue, only this time with out the irritating squeal in the background.

            Our music experience at church on this Sunday was augmented by the Sonoran Brass Quintet and the Sanctuary Choir.  The brass quintet was the main performers in the service and they were actually quite good.  I am a bit partial to the organ and the way it reverberates its chords of music through the Sanctuary, but it was still a pleasant Sunday in church with great music offered to place the congregation in a reflective, spiritual mood of solemnity. The first half of why I attend church was being met very appreciatively.

            The sermons at this church have been very enjoyable, both this years visiting experiences and the visits on our last time in Phoenix some 2 years ago.  There is a new pastor, but there does not seem to be a loss in the expertise and ability to deliver an enjoyable and thought provoking sermon.  I am not sure if it is the building or maybe the pastoral selection committee.  I like a pastor that can not only deliver a message but who can cause you to carry forth from the service a new perspective.  I do not want to be brow beaten into dogmatically following this path or that, but I do want to be allowed to look at a seemly known point of view from a new angle.  Today the pastor did a wonderful job of doing just that.

            I will not recap his whole sermon.  You can all breathe a sigh of relief now.  I will just tell you that his sermon was about a simple passage in John that I thought I knew and about which he told us all we had all missed the point.  It was about the wedding in Caana and how when they ran out of wine Jesus decided to make some more form vessels of water.  I am sure you all know this first miracle, and yet we learned on this Sunday that we did not understand what the real point was.  It was not about making wine from water.  That was not even the miracle.  The miracle was that the servants all did what Jesus had asked them to do.  It was from this simple obedience that a perceived miracle happened.  The pastor asked us to reflect on just what a miracle really is.   Is it when God does something that we ask of him, or is it more truthfully when we do something that God asks of us?  Just a new point of view and a reason to look at what you think you know through new eyes.

            Today both of my reasons for attending church were met.  I guess it was a pretty good Sunday.

Date:                           January 14, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0830

            Our evening was as enjoyable and funny as we expected and had hoped it would be.  Our seats were front row center and there were nearly 3000 people behind us, all collected to enjoy and evening with Bill Cosby.  His performance was much more like a conversation than an orchestrated act.  He came out to a loud applause, sat in a chair just a few feet in front of us and then talked to us for the next 2 and a half hours. It was not until the very end of his visit with us that I recognized a comedy routine. It was about his visit to a dentist and it was, of course, hilarious.  After that he said good evening and left the stage.  Our visit was over.  If laughter is indeed good medicine, there were a lot of healthy people leaving the Dodge Theater last night.

            We had decided to leave for the theater, which is about 7 miles away, a little early.  We knew how to get there, but traffic can be a mess in Phoenix and we needed to find a place to park.  The ten minute drive through the center of Phoenix took us nearly half an hour.  We did not know that the Phoenix Suns were also having a home game.  We are in a city that is under construction and even on a quiet Sunday the streets look more like parking lots than highways.  Tonight the thoroughfares appeared to be long lines of red and white strings of lights and nothing like actual moving traffic facilities.  At one point we were a short mile from the theater and know we could have walked there much faster than we were driving.  I should not have been worrying about a parking spot.  We had found one.  Right in the middle of the main street through Phoenix along with the other throngs of theater goers and basketball fans.  A little patience and a lot of luck provided us an opening in the collected red lights of non moving cars.  Once we were past the basketball arena the road actually opened up and we found the traffic going to the Dodge Theater.  It really was not that bad and we arrived at the theater just as they were opening the doors.

            I am not sure if the routines that Bill Cosby was sharing with us were as funny as they seemed or if he is just great at relating your normal life back to you through a comedic interpolation.  Most of the evening I think that we, his audience, were led though an exercise of laughing at ourselves. I know that the more I could identify with the situation he was describing the harder I laughed.  It is that talent and ability that has served him well through these 70 years.  What ever the description or explanation, the evening was filled with laughter and concluded with an immediate standing ovation.  The neat part is that we got to enjoy it all from front row center.  That is even better than television.

Date:                           January 13, 2007

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

1300

            From laundry to pizza and organ music with a slight stop in “How did you do that”- ville is a simple explanation of our day yesterday.  It was not a very special day and yet a lot of pretty special things seemed to happen.  It is one of those days when, if you were not observant, you might simply pass off as a pretty normal day.

            Our day started with a trip to the post office and then a stop at the local Laundromat. These chores do not seem to be very exciting and I can vouch for the fact that they are not the fodder from which great stories can be formed.  The first post office we visited was not the full service type, but Sacke was quick to find another offering not too far away and we managed to accomplish our task.  So far this is not a very exciting day.  From the haven of slow walking, slow talking, expensive shippers we ventured to a Laundromat that just happened to be just down the street.  As we pulled into the parking lot we noticed that Dave and Mary’s car was also parked in front of the coin laundry. This is not a big whoopee.  We knew that they too tend to do laundry on heir days off and this laundry was kind of neat and not far from our project.  Excitement is still not dripping from my word processor.

            Having a friend in the local Laundromat is kind of neat. It gives you some one to talk to that can actually speak English.  I, sadly, can converse in only one language and while we are in the southwest it is not always the language of popular choice.  As our cleaning work clothes were tumbling in the machines Mary saw an ad in the newspaper for a performance by Bill Cosby.  It was a show that was going to be in Phoenix on Saturday, that is today, and there was a possibility that there might be seating available.  Now the fun begins.  Dave called the listed phone number in the paper to check availability.  It was the local number for Ticket-Master.  Needless to say, he found out that he was not the only person calling Ticket-Master on a Friday morning. He also found himself on hold for quite a long time.  After pushing this number and then that he ended up in a long line of people listening to bad music over a poor cell phone connection.  I decided to try calling the theater directly and to see if I could short circuit the process. This I felt was a very clever idea, and I was pretty proud of myself. Within a few moments I was talking to a real person and she felt that there might indeed be a few seats available.  Soon I was a transferred to the same long line of waiting, nauseated elevator music sufferers.  Are we having fun yet?

            Soon Dave was talking into his cell phone and making arrangements for 4 tickets to the eight PM performance.  I hung up, having failed miserably.  The only seats available were somewhere in the stratosphere and almost close enough to be in the same time zone.  If we were to take a picture of Bill Cosby with us and study it real hard we might be able to recognize the stick figure that almost would appear some seventy two miles away on stage.  For this honor and privilege we would have to pay the full ticket price plus an eight dollar per ticket courtesy fee.  We never did figure out what that courtesy was and just why it was so expensive.  We did decide to forgo the Ticket-Master scam and try to find a better option.  Now is when the fun begins again.

            Connie and I decided to explore Phoenix and try and find the theater and see if they had any tickets available.  Even if we were in the clouds and far enough away to have to mail in our applause we felt that we could save the “courtesy” expense and maybe by a program or something.  We found the theater quite easily, thank you Sacke.  As we came to the corner on which it is positioned I told Connie to start looking for a place to park and we would go to the ticket window and pray.  Just as we turned the corner in front of the theater a car pulled out of a parking spot and let us park right in front of the main door.  There was even time left on the meter.  We walked the 10 feet or so to the ticket window and asked the very nice young lady if we were nuts or if there might be a few seats available.  She showed us a couple of the available seats in the sky and asked if that was ok.  I kind of asked her if there might be something in the same state available.  After a little finger jumping on her computer she said that she just had 4 seats open up in the pit.  I was almost afraid to ask what that meant, but what the heck.  It seems that these four seats are located in row 1 in the orchestra pit and nearly in the center of the row.  We had gone from setting in the approach lane of the airport to setting in the front row center of the auditorium and for less than Ticket-Master wanted.  This is becoming a really cool day.

            My next blog will, I am sure, bring you up to date on our experience at the Dodge Theater in Phoenix as we hopefully enjoy an evening with Bill Cosby.  I might even tell you a story about unappreciative clods that we met at the pizza parlor and really irritated the hell out of me.  I might tell you that story or I might just let it wash away into the trash of poor manners that we often see exhibited each day by people that we would just as soon not see each day.  The benefit of a NOMADS project is that it is only 3 weeks long. Normally not long enough to begin not liking someone, but some people are much faster workers than others.  I must go readjust my attitude and but myself in a humorous mood for an evening I hope will be unforgettable.

 Date:                          January 12, 2007                                                                  

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0930

            It is at the end of our first week of our NOMADS project that I finally find the time and energy to catch up on my blog responsibilities.  It is a strange fact of life that when you have a lot to do you do not have a lot of time to write about it and when you have little to do you have all the time in the world to pontificate and ramble on infinitum.  Such is one of life’s little mysteries and a simple fact of living.

            Our project at UMOM is progressing very well and it is a very rewarding feeling to be of some help to this organization.  I would be very glad to explain all I know about this out reach ministry, but I am sure that I would not be able to do it justice.  If you are really interested I am sure that you can GOOGLE it in your spare time and I am quite positive that you will be impressed.  It is the largest homeless shelter in Arizona and the name of “New Day” means something to the residents that reside here.  The organization’s direction and efforts are to break the cycle of homelessness in the lives of the people that choose to follow the program set forth form them.  It is not a hand out but truly an offer of a hand up.  If you are looking for a gate of opportunity and a showing of assistance this is the place to come.  If you are looking for a hand out and another governmental enabling program you might as well keep marching down the road.  There is a lot of love here, but it is, at times, tough love.

            Our days have been starting just before the sun peeps over the mountain peaks that surround Phoenix and by the time we have showered and eaten our evening meal the sun as found its hiding place on the other side of the horizon.  Over the last few days I must admit that Connie and I have found our hiding place in counterpane much earlier then normal.  Partially because we have exhausted most of our energies during the day and partially because my wife has shared what ever virus she was attacked by with me.  I must admit that the second attack of the stomach flu and virus revenge was not as forceful as the one my wife fended off, but it was not much fun either.  With the grace of God I think that we both are on the mend now.  It is now just the pains of an old body that is not used to working that we must face each morning.  I guess that is why they make Motrin.

            Our team is quite diverse and eclectic, but very pleasant.  As happens on some teams there can be a couple of prima donnas or team leader wanna bees that can cause discordance among the team members. To this point on this project that does not seem to be the case.  Everyone is willing to do what ever the job requires and at the request of our team leader or the project coordinator.  It is a nice atmosphere when people realize that they are here to volunteer their time and efforts at the direction of someone else and not to fulfill a need of themselves.  When a job needs to be done there is a quick team response and not an individual effort placed forth.  It makes the work go fast and the work to be completed efficiently.  I realize that is what is supposed to happen on a volunteer project, but to anyone that has served on a team of individual personalities you will realize that that is not always what happens.  On this project we seem to have a collection of non egomaniacal service oriented people.  Simply that means that we have more fun, get more accomplished and have a lot less stress.  Now if my shoulder would quit aching it would be nearly perfect.

            Being a NOMAD means that we have a 3 day weekend coming and this evening we are, as a team, going out to celebrate the completion of our first week of work.  Of course we also have a few house chores that must be completed and it is on this long weekend that we try to accomplish all of that personal work.  It is also a good time to explore our new home and try to get lost in Phoenix.  Phoenix is one of those cities that just seems right and at home to me, personally.  It is not because of the traffic, I am sure, and it is not because of the weather in the summer, which serves up temperatures of well over a hundred degrees for days on end.  I am not sure I can identify the attraction of Phoenix; I just know that when I am here I feel like we are at home.  If they could just place an ocean near by some how.

Date:                           January 8, 2007                                                                    

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0720

            Many times we wander through life with very large blinders in front of our eyes.  I do not mean that we can not see the tree in front of us or the rock that will soon make a black and blue swelling on our toe.  We can see the material things that are confronting us and, usually, we can see the events that are developing right under our noses.  We do, however, tend to miss the little moments that occur and should be valued as the magic that they are.  Yesterday at a church service at the Central United Methodist Church one of those mystical and heartfelt moments happened right in front of my eyes and I was graced with the pleasure of witnessing it.  I can only hope that the participants were as aware of the tenderness and meaning of this moment as was I, the interloper and visiting observer.

            Connie and I had convinced our NOMADS team to attend the church which we had discovered on our first visit to Phoenix.  It is one of the first Methodist Churches in Arizona and has a magnificent pipe organ.  From the outside the church would seem somewhat unassuming with out the classic gothic architecture and traditional “church” appearance.  It is situated in the middle of the city of Phoenix and has a very large campus, resembling a historic Spanish compound.  Once you find your way to the Sanctuary you are deposited in a cathedral setting that would nearly replicate any basilica you have ever visited.  It is not as physically large as some European cathedrals, but once your eyes have caught the majestic display of organ pipes behind the alter and the ornate stained glass windows surrounding the Sanctuary you are truly in a state of awe.  As soon as the opening chord of the prelude is echoing through the Sanctuary you know that you are in for a spiritual experience.

            The service that we decided to attend was the traditional service and is augmented not only by the beautiful and powerful organ but also by a rather large and well schooled Sanctuary Choir.  I am not sure if it was the setting, the echoing chords of the pipe organ or the pageantry of the service, but this church does offer an immediate spiritual experience and a service of meaning and feeling.  This Sunday was communion Sunday, and it was from this sacrament that my moment grew.  It was not the fact of communion that provided my treasured moment, nor was it the value of the sacred sacrament that this church seem to place on communion that allowed me to witness a special moment in a stranger’s life.  It was just a simple moment witnessed by a lucky and prayerful communion recipient that enriched my soul this morning.

            The communion was served in a very “Catholic” manner.  It was a full and meaningful part of the service and not just a quick superfluous last minute addition to an already too long presentation.  The priest, or pastor, slowly and fully went through the \preparation of the host and offered it to the choir and then to the parishioners.  As Connie and I walked up to the altar to receive our communion it brought back many memories of Sundays in a Catholic Church when I knelt at the altar and received my communion wafer. On this Sunday that scene was replayed not only in my memory but it reality.  The communion wafer was still stale and very dry but at least in the Methodist Church we were allowed to dip the round dry symbolic communion host in a chalice of wine.  I almost made the sign of the cross as we stood up and returned to our pews for our momentary reflective prayer.

            As we sat in our pew I could not help but notice the new recipients as they knelt at the altar to prepare to receive communion.  Connie and I were sitting nearly in the front row and had a very good observation point.  Just in front of us a very young girl, of maybe 5 years of age, approached the altar with her father and knelt at the altar rail.  Her long golden hair, freshly washed and attractively adorned with ribbons, fell down her new dress and across her shoulders.  I am not sure if this was her first visit to an altar to receive a communion wafer, but it appeared that she was a little new to this experience and a little bit apprehensive.  Her father was very careful to allow her to fix her dress so it did not wrinkle and to properly position her hands in a prayerful position and yet  still able to receive the host as the pastor approached.  It appeared that dad was whispering in her ear just what was happening and, I hope, reassurance to this lovely angel as she was to experience the sacrament of communion.  As the pastor and his assistant approached they lowered the wafer tray and chalice so that the host was at the little girl’s level.  They even bowed a bit to place themselves more at her level as they prayed over the host as she gently dip her wafer in the wine and partook of the sacrament.

            Being an observant interloper I could not help but feel the spiritual beauty of this scene.  I am not sure if the little child totally understood the meaning of the pageantry that was being played out before her.  I do not know if her father understood all of the emotions and thoughts that might have been manifest in his little daughter’s mind as this momentous first experience of the sacrament of communion occurred.  He may have just felt that this was just another moment, one of so many moments, that come and go in the course of a life.  He may have wondered why she asked him about the stale small piece of flat bread.  Or he may have, I hope, realized what a precious moment he was now living.

            For an instant on this Sunday morning I witnessed a moment in a little girl’s life that will, I think, always be special to her.  I witnessed what I felt was her first communion, or at least one of her early experiences of communion.  I also witnessed a father that patiently allowed his daughter to live her moment at her speed and at her level of understanding.  I also witnessed a church that treated this child as preciously and respectively as they did any other participant in the sacrament of communion.  And I found myself being spiritually uplifted by the pleasure of being able to share and witness a special moment in a person’s life.

            I am not sure to whom communion held the most meaning on this beautiful sunny Sunday at the Central United Methodist Church.  Was it the pastor serving the host to a beautiful young child as she welcomed the body of Christ in to her own being?  Was it the father who was there to share and enjoy his daughter’s sojourn into the faith of his fathers?  Was it the sweet little cherub that understood more than any of us the wonder of the moment as she symbolically relived that Last Supper and did as Christ directed to us all through his disciples?  Or was it a retired old man from the cold northeast that just happened to be in Phoenix on a sunny warm Sunday morning?

            From every level of this experience it was a special moment.  Life has many special moments and we sadly often do not take the time to notice them.  On this Sunday in a Phoenix Methodist Church a small beautiful child reminded me to be a little more observant and a lot more receptive to the special moments that occur around me constantly.   I will remember the flowing golden hair as she knelt at the altar rail. I will remember the bent head of her father as he was trying to answer her questions.  And I will remember the pastor lowering himself and the tray of communion wafers as he offered the precious and sacred host to this lovely angel of youth.  I will remember this precious moment.

Date:                           January 7, 2007                                

Location:                    Phoenix, AZ

0830

            For those of you astute blog readers, “Yes we have moved.”  It is a bright sunny Sunday morning and we are parked in the parking lot of the UMOM facility in downtown Phoenix.  Today is the start of the first of our NOMADS projects.  This parking lot has been converted into an RV resting place for the next few weeks and Connie and I will be here for three of them.

            UMOM is an outreach ministry of the Methodist church in Phoenix and the area we are staying at is dedicated to offering women or families a chance to gather their lives together and start on a new path.  We have been told that there are nearly 300 families or parts there of residing here now and that is about full capacity.  The residents are allowed to stay at UMOM up to 2 full years, as long as they meet and obey all regulations and rules.  As we were told, “This is an opportunity not a gift.”

            Our last couple of days in Tucson was quite uneventful right up until the time my lovely wife decided to get very sick.  We had gone for a drive on Thursday and ended up in Phoenix. That is about 125 miles from Tucson, but it was a nice day and we took the back roads through the desert, so it was an enjoyable drive.  While in Phoenix we checked out the parking and access to UMOM so that when we came with the beast we would not be the full neighborhood entertainment for the day, or week.  It was a good thing, because the right hand turn we had planned on making into the parking lot would have been a challenge.  Calling it a challenge is a complement.  If I had tried to make the more than 100 degree turn with the car hooked on the back of our bus and right in the middle of 4 lanes of traffic, I am sure I would have had a few other names for the event.  We wisely decided to go a few blocks out of the way and approach the security gate from the other direction.  It meant a left hand turn across traffic, but my nerves were much less strained.

            On our on way home on Thursday we decided to take the highway and stop for some dinner.  We choose a Flying J along the way and thought this would be a nice ending to a short 300 plus mile ride on a beautiful desert’s winter day.  All was good until about 2:00 am when my wife took up residence in the small room in the middle of our RV.  We are not sure if she had food poisoning, or just a virus that attacked her.  I am quite sure she could care less which it was.  I do know that I have not seen her get that sick in a very long time if ever.  Needless to say after being awake from the very early hours on Friday doing all sorts of unmentionable disgusting sick things, Connie was not much of a fire ball for the rest of the day.  She is much better now and looks like she is getting back to normal.  I do not think she could last a marathon yet, but she does have some human color back in her face and her beautiful blue eyes are almost glistening again.  For a while she had less color than a white sail in a snow storm.

            Our drive to Phoenix on Saturday was quite simple and pleasant.  Connie could actually carry on a conversation and seem almost normal.  What ever it was that attacked her must have lost the fight and left the battle field.  It may have been that chicken noodle soup that Ray and Martha brought her on Friday evening.  There was a time when a successful out come was some what in doubt.  When we got to UMOM we were directed to back our rig into a spot between two other rigs.  This was to be done in a rather small parking lot and with very little room for error.  Needless to say I was almost in that small room before the chore was complete, but with expert guidance of my now recuperating co-pilot we did it as if we knew what we were doing.  I have said for years that, “Connie really drives this bus; I just push the pedals and turn the wheel.”

Date:                           January 3, 2007

Location:                    Tucson, AZ

0830

            The self imposed retreat to Tucson is coming to a close and Connie and I are starting to think about getting ready to leave.  Life in Tucson has always been a pleasure for us and this year has been no exception.  If they could figure out a way to put an ocean near here, I am sure that Connie and I could find a place to settle down and call this home.  It has almost everything that we enjoy; it is just a long way to anything that looks like an ocean.

            The weather has returned to the climate that we enjoy in the winter, or any time.  It was in the 70s and a day filled with blue sky.  The surrounding mountains have just enough snow on the caps to make the horizon a picturesque display of nature’s beauty.  It is, as is so much of the country, a scene that must be personally enjoyed to begin to appreciate.  The horizon in any direction that you choose to look in Tucson is a picture of sharp jagged mountain peaks silhouetted against a deep blue sky with just enough snow for a white dusting which adds a luster of fantasy.  It is, in a simple phrase, beautiful and awe inspiring.

            We decided that we had been in our rig long enough and decided to do some shopping.  It was not an exciting shopping day, but just a chance to leave Voyager and venture into the traffic of Tucson.  If you do not like, or at least tolerate traffic, Tucson may not be your destination of choice.  We went to Wally World to get such exciting things such as coffee, bread and some new pieces of material which will become reversible table clothes in the near future.  We also managed to gravitate to the Golden Choral, which is right next to the Wal-Mart, for a taste of lunch.  Connie had a taste, I had too much.

            After lunch and an exciting trip through the crowded aisles of Wally World we asked Sacke to find a B&N for some afternoon exploring.  She managed to direct us through a section of Tucson that we had not previously explored and deliver us right in front of B&N with the driveway on our right hand side.  How she does that consistently in a large city still baffles my little brain.  Connie and I both now have a new favorite book.  Mine came from the “I have too many of these so I will unload them for a cheap price” table and Connie’s came from the “I think you will really like this book” counter.  I think that we both will enjoy her selection more than we will enjoy mine.  Mine cost less than a drink at the coffee bar and Connie’s will be enjoyed by both of us, so I guess we both made a good selection.

            When we got home, Dave and Mary thought it would be fun to spend their last night in Tucson at our house playing games.  We heartily agreed and had a very enjoyable evening. If I were the type of person that gloats and brags I might tell you that the men whipped some serious butt in Pegs and Jokers, but I will refrain from any such crass display of childishness.  We all did have fun and that is what is most important.  Of course, I do believe that Dave and I did have just the slightest bit more fun.  It is easy to be intuitive and to exemplify deep logic in game strategy when you get the right cards.

            This morning we have more preparing to accomplish as our time at Voyager continues to wind down.  We will wish safe travels to Mary and Dave as they head to Phoenix a few days before we do.  We will also prepare to welcome Don and Donna for a couple of days as they move into Voyager for the last days of our visit. I am not sure if we enjoy Tucson because of where and what it is, or because of who we share our time with while we are here.  I do know that we feel a sense of returning each time we park our moveable house in our adopted home in the desert.  Something or someone in Tucson has touched our hearts and we enjoy the continuing feeling of warmth each time we return.

Date:                           January 2, 2007                                                                    

Location:                    Tucson, AZ

1100

            Christmas has come and gone as has the new year and Connie and I are finishing up our visit to Tucson.  Through the holiday season I found that I had too many things to talk about and not enough time to write them down for your enjoyment and time of sharing.  In reality I am sure that you, also, had too many things to do and not enough time to get them all completed.  As the New Year envelopes our days and dictates our plans I will again endeavor to periodically relate our adventures and our experiences.  We have a rather slow week in front of us and this might help, indeed, to re-orient me to a systematic controlled routine in which I can accomplish my daily chore of boring any of you that stumble on to my ramblings.  This little excursion into egomaniacal literature usually takes an hour or more of my day and quite honestly there are some days I choose not to invest the time. I know that there are throngs of readers out there waiting with elevated expectations to travel down my memory lane, and to you each, I apologize for my selfishness.  To those of you that are just now finding my blog or have just returned after a lengthy absence, I understand the demands on your time.

            At our last “Gathering at the Blog”  Connie and I were beginning our entertainment of Connie’s mom for the Christmas season.  It was a visit that was very enjoyable and enriching.  It allowed us a chance to spend time with family and to share our time with both family and friends.  Christmas at the Voyager is a time of enjoyment and fulfillment, and this year it was enhanced with the opportunity to share that with Connie’s mom. She even joined Connie in the choir at church for Sunday service and the Christmas Eve celebration.  That may not seem to be a major point at first thought in your mind, but may I rephrase the experience.  A mother and daughter that have shared the earth for over half a century and were half a continent apart, met to sing the joy of the birth of our savior.  They met in the middle of the desert among friends and strangers to vocally share their talents and love for Christ with the collected throng of worshipers who were choosing to celebrate the true meaning of the season and not the commercial degradation of the day.  From a talent and vocally challenged participant of the audience, I thank them for sharing with me.

            Most of the Christmas week and the week between the holidays has been spent visiting, exploring and far too much eating.  In many ways, I am sure, it has been not too dissimilar from almost everyone else’s holiday season.  On Christmas we joined our friends and family in a progressive RV Holiday feast.  We had appetizers at Ray and Martha’s, Salad at Dan and Joy’s, our main course at Dave and Mary’s and our after dinner desserts and games at our rig.  This equates to an afternoon of eating that was spread across 4 motor homes and nearly 6 hours.  It was not a quick half hour of gorging and an afternoon of snoring, as is so often experienced.  We shared a full day of new friends, old friends and family.  It was, in a slightly different way, the perfect example of how a holiday should be celebrated.

            The ending of one year and the beginning of another has not been the moment of which great stories come forth in my life.  Connie and I were actually in bed and asleep by the time the actual New Year arrived.  Are we getting old or what?  We did have a very enjoyable evening of friends and festivities, but it did not last into the wee hours of the morning.  One advantage of geriatric wondering is that you can celebrate the New Year in any time zone you choose.  This translates to an early celebration, and an even earlier bed time.  It also means that when we arose on the fist day of this new year our heads could leave the pillows as our bodies rose from the bed.  That means no hangovers.  We did manage to watch the full Rose Parade and that is a good thing for my wife.  A year has to be off to a good start when you can watch the whole Rose Parade and not have to listen to the Network geeks or watch endless commercials.  Thank you Home and Garden TV.

            We now are preparing to settle into something that resemble normalcy.  It will be close to what we call normal, and that is all we can expect.  Next week we start our first NOMADS project of the year in Phoenix.  If you thought you knew our plans and this was not part of it, you are not so far from right. It was not in our original plans, but we have slept since then and things tend to change.  I would tell you what the rest of our plans or supposed to be, but we may sleep between now and then.  If you keep visiting my blog you will be just as surprised as we are at what actually our plans turn out being.

            In closing may I be one of the last to wish you a fortuitous New Year and a collection of adventures that we may share when we meet in the near future. 

            And, just in case you were wondering, I am picking the Chargers in the Superbowl.  That is where all of the talent of the Bills went way back when Buffalo had a football team.  Happy New Year and GO SAN DIEGO.