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naturalliberty

~ A libertarian's journey of political, spiritual, and personal discovery

naturalliberty

Category Archives: Spiritual

Blogs about my spiritual journey and discoveries

A forgotten past

08 Saturday Dec 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Love, Poems, Spiritual

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Beauty, Desire, Dream, Happiness, Love, lover, memory, past, poem, poetry, romance, soul, writing

DSCN1548-001A Forgotten Past

 

There was once a moonlit street I traveled

and forgot

There was a glance that lingered on her raven hair and eyes

made me hold my breath

and was gone

I dance with memories that I vaguely feel are mine

but I cannot be sure are from this lifetime

or rather extend from my forgotten past

eternally stored by my  immortal soul.

They shimmer and tease

Producing those rare déjà vu moments

when two undying souls meet

painful yet cherished.

For I feel you as a part of me

a soothing, exciting, familiar dream

unexplainable by this life I’ve lived

I feel you over the miles – tethered to me

And this desire feels not new, but rekindled–awakened

Your mind and mine have met

but the matter in this body does not remember

It has been said that the most useless things in the world

are the most beautiful

like lilies and peacocks

So it may also be that the most powerful love

is timeless, boundless, and mysterious

like ours

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SHE

11 Wednesday Jul 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Love, Poems, Spiritual

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friendship, Happiness, Kiss, laughter, life, Love, lover, memory, poem, poetry, relationships, romance, writing

This was written about a particular person who shall remain unnamed, but could equally apply to any of those moments when I know I’m falling in love.  I never did date the woman I wrote this about as she was involved with a friend, but I was madly infatuated with her for a period of time.  I hope she is doing well.

 

She

I see her everyday.

In front of me while buying groceries.

I talk to her.

Her laugh is in front of me as well.

The sparkle of her eyes–Oh how it warms me.

Her smile I cannot resist, nor the shape of her as she ties her shoes.

The blush caused by the sun or a well-timed comment.

The anguish, the hope, and uncertainty in her voice draw me in.

I want to kiss her–make love to her.

I want to soothe her when she is in pain.

I want her to soothe me.

And tomorrow I want to see her again.

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Please

26 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Discovery and Recovery, Love, Poems, Spiritual, Uncategorized

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courage, Faults, Feelings, God, Happiness, Inspiration, Journey, Kindness, Love, poem, poetry, Prayer, wisdom, wonder, writing

Please let me hurt few people along my journey

Please let me find more courage and wisdom along the way

Please help me say “I love you” more, and mean it

Please accept my failings for they are many

But please also know my feelings are deep and genuine

Please allow kindness and love to soothe my troubles

And allow my kindness and love to soothe others

Let me learn the necessity of hardship

without making me hard

Keep showing me the glory of your creation

and allow me the continuing wonder of a child

Let me be aware always that I am fallible,

but let me not dwell on my faults

Know that I still feel and want all the glory of love

And help me be worthy of those that give it to me

I hope that this simple prayer finds a way to bring happiness

to me

–and those I love.

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The Witching Hour

23 Saturday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Poems, Spiritual

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anguish, dreams, God, heart, insomnia, life, lost love, memory, mountains, nature, past, poem, poetry, Serenity, sleep, soul, writing

How do I explain my inability to express the feelings of bards?

My heart wells and wails

with futile anguish

My soul screams

my hands and head refuse to cooperate

Tis late

much past the witching hour

when only the lost and tortured are awake

I dream living dreams and escape to lost love

I find serenity in my Montana mountains

I allow myself to talk to God and wonder about his creation

I wander the empty halls of my past

until gentle, sometimes troubled sleep takes me to another day

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The Painting

12 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Love, Poems, Spiritual

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broken-heart, life, Loss, Love, lover, memory, poem, poetry, relationships, romance, struggle, writing

The painting on the living room wall

an ancient parisien street

But never have you actually looked at it

Never really wanted to

But sitting there with empty moments to fill

you look

study it, count the colors, figure out

what seems to be happening

The moments and minutes

float by

And soon you depart the room

and realize as you walk away

that the painting is a blur–nothing

all you can remember is feeling

so alone and lost

without her

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Bluebonnets, Ingrid Bergman, and Cayenne Ice Cream – How to be happy.

07 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Discovery and Recovery, Poems, Spiritual

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bluebonnets, casablanca, complaining, God, gratefulness, gratitude, grouchiness, habit, Happiness, ice cream, ingrid bergman, Inspiration, irritation, negative thinking, Recovery, writing

Want to be happier (or at least keep the negative, grouchy, irritable side of yourself in check)?

It’s a natural tendency to gripe and complain.  And many of us (I know I’m guilty) often get bent out of shape about the most inconsequential things.   Like someone cutting in front of you on the drive to work (which may have cost 2 whole extra seconds drive time!) or a waitress not pouring more coffee at the exact moment we wanted a refill or the phone at work keeps ringing.  Maybe your boyfriend or girlfriend didn’t call when they said they would or you dropped mustard on your favorite shirt.  How annoying right!?

But these are all really just minor inconveniences.  We all can have a tendency to dwell on them and let them ruin the day.   But each is almost always just a matter of not having things our way at the very moment we want, my expectations (or wants) aren’t being met and I focus on the negative part of any situation.  Those two things, unrealized expectations and dwelling on negatives, can ruin your day, your week, and before you know it you are a perpetual grouch!  It becomes a habit and a bad one.

So here’s my one simple tip to get you out of that funk.  (And if you are like me the first time I tried to do this, you’ll find it harder than you would guess – but it gets easier the more you do it).

Make a list of things you are grateful for!

It’s that simple.  It is hard, if not impossible, to remain in a foul mood when you are full of gratitude.  If you believe in a higher power or God, thank them for these things you are grateful for.  I know many people (those used to dwelling on the negative side of things) will say they don’t have anything to be grateful for.  Sure you do.  You can start small.  Think of anything that makes you smile, gives you pleasure or makes you happy and just say, “I’m grateful” for __________.

For instance:

  • I’m grateful for the worker at the market who offered me a sample of  “Queen City Cayenne” ice cream.  I tried it last weekend and it was delicious and unexpected.  A complex mixture of chocolate, cinnamon, and pepper that I really enjoyed.  I never thought pepper in ice cream would be, or could be, good.
  • I’m grateful that it didn’t rain when I went to the baseball game with my dad Tuesday night since I left the umbrella in the car. (and the home team won 18-3!)
  • I’m grateful that even though someone dinged my car the other day, at least I have a car to drive at all.  Many don’t.
  • I’m grateful for lemonade and ice tea mixed together.  It’s so refreshing in the summer.
  • I’m grateful for how happy my dog is when I come home.  It always puts me in a good mood – although I could pass on his overly strong penchant for licking my face.
  • I’m grateful when a song I love, like Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl”, comes on the radio.
  • I’m grateful for music.
  • I’m grateful for my job (even if the phone rings too much) Many people are struggling to make ends meet at all and don’t have a job.
  • I’m grateful for the popcorn at the movies.
  • I’m grateful for bluebonnet flowers.  Seeing even a picture of a field of bluebonnets makes me happy.  (see above)
  • I’m grateful for the movie “Casablanca” – the dialogue is so clever, I never get tired of it.  And Ingrid Bergman is still one of the most beautiful women I ever saw – extra grateful and worth another picture 😉 

Anyway, you get the idea.

Let your mind wander.  Yeah, it’s corny and may make you feel a bit awkward at first.  Most of us aren’t used to practicing gratitude.  But, if you think about it, there are hundreds of things to be grateful for each week.  And just reminding yourself of that fact can take you out of a negative frame of mind.

Maybe it will even become a habit.

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Hope in Human Form

03 Sunday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Discovery and Recovery, Personal, Spiritual

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12 Steps, AA, alcoholic, anger, Change, Discovery, God, gratitude, Happiness, Hope, life, miracles, Recovery, Rehab, Responsibility, Self-pity, Selfishness, Spirituality, Surrender

There I was in a room filled with strangers.  I had come to this church in a van full of other strangers.  I was beaten, tired, confused, and spiritually, financially and emotionally empty.  I hated my work.  It seemed to only add to my depressed mental state.  I no longer had any close friends.  I was barely on speaking terms with anyone in my family – I hadn’t talked to my older sister and two older brothers in years and bitterly resented my younger brother who until recently had been living with me.   I lied as a matter of routine.  I hadn’t dated in years because I pretty much despised who I was.  I was more full of anger and hate than I care to admit.

I was like Gollum in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings  – unloving, unloved, friendless, isolated, corrupted, and slowly going crazy.  That was what had brought me into this room.  It was my first AA meeting.  Alcohol was my One Ring: seductive, comforting, baffling, and powerful.  It was my “precious”.  But it was also killing me.   It was destroying any semblance of who I once was, not only physically, but mentally and spiritually as well.  It wanted me dead.

Earlier that day I had checked into an in-patient rehab facility where I would spend the next couple months.  That night we were driven to a local Lutheran church where they were holding an AA meeting.  It was a lead meeting where someone told their story.   I don’t remember much of what the speaker talked about.   I was fairly numb with self-pity and self-loathing at what the state of my life had become.  I only really remember the sign on the podium that said “Hope is found here”.   I kept thinking to myself, “please, let that be true”!

That was 4 and ½ years ago.  I did find hope – and much more.  I found a life I never knew was possible.  One of the best comments I have heard recently is from a speaker who described AA as “Hope in Human Form”.  I’ve found that to be true.  Hope is embodied in every person in AA that shares their story of misery and transformation.  It is embodied in every former drunk who then helps another learn how they too can learn to live differently.  And since my faith in God was absent and since I knew I was beaten and had no answers or solutions –I clung to Hope.   I prayed to the God I wasn’t certain I even believed in anymore that what they said could happen for me, would happen.  Hope is about the only thing that kept me hanging on long enough for the miracles to happen.  I remember looking around the room and seeing the men and women there were happy, laughing, seemingly serene people.  Hope in Human Form.  There they were- living soberly without alcohol and they seemed happy.  How was that even possible?  I wanted to be able to live like that too.  The alternative was frightening.  I saw where that road was heading.

You may hear people say they are in recovery.  I prefer the idea that I am in discovery with the principles of AA as my guide.  I have re-discovered a spiritual side I had left unscratched.  I have discovered the strength that comes from humility and self-responsibility.  I have discovered the wellness attained from helping others.  I have discovered to better confront my fears rather than hide from them.  I discovered the very Taoist idea that by surrendering completely I have more strength than I ever had from trying to be strong.  I discovered that by admitting my wrongs, recognizing my selfishness, and attending only to my actions rather than focusing on others wrongs, pointing out their selfishness, and worrying about their actions, I am more at peace and have greater happiness.  I have discovered that happiness really is an inside job, but most people are unhappy because they look for an outside fix.   I have discovered miracles can happen.  I have discovered I can trust and like other people again.

I still fail in these pursuits often.  Life is life and my flaws tend to follow me wherever I go!   But I recognize my failures now, and soon try to mend them.  It’s a liberating way to live.  But it takes effort.  Daily effort.  I have to trust in God, accept and admit when I am wrong and do my part to correct those times when I am.

But if you had to sum it up the last 4 years or so – I changed.  Everything.   I changed my sleep patterns.  I changed friends.  I changed behaviors and attitudes.  I changed the things I did and where I went.  I changed my relationship with God.

And along the way I made an interesting discovery –change guided by principle is good!  Change is essential to life. Without change there is no growth, no learning, and no happiness.  Closed unchanged systems die out.  Closed unchanging people wither like unwatered plants.

I changed and I grew.  But I can’t take much credit really.  It was less my own effort than merely allowing the change to happen.  I followed the advice (12 Steps) and examples of those Human Forms of Hope, I listened,  and let God do for me what I never had been able to do for myself which was stop my drinking and live life soberly and as joyously as possible.

All this isn’t to say that life is a bowl of peaches.  It isn’t.  Life is still life and has a way of throwing a series of curve balls.   And this year has been especially tough already.  My mom died.  I’ve moved from one city to another.  I’m starting my own law practice again and my fears about success and money keep rearing their ugly little heads trying to steal the little serenity I manage to hold.  But I know if I honestly try to do what I can and let go of trying to control the results, I will be okay.

But I owe a great debt and have tremendous gratitude to the many people in AA;  from my sponsors, to the friends I’ve met, to the acquaintances I merely see in meetings, to the counselors in rehab-who selflessly gave, shared, cried, laughed, and taught so that I may live a more joyous life.

They were and remain – Hope in Human Form.

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The Eastern Sky

02 Saturday Jun 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Love, Personal, Poems, Spiritual

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Letting Go, Love, memory, poem, poetry, relationships, remorse, romance, Serenity, writing

 

I saw you in the eastern sky

Last Thursday

I saw you on the cover of a Paolo Coelho novel

Last weekend

I heard your voice in the stillness of the dawn

And when Andrea sang Con Te Partiro in Morroco

I felt your presence in the flickering candlelight

When I prayed

The calm warmth of serenity washed me

And as I let your vision, your voice, your presence

Enter me

A moment’s delight and memory’s dance

Lingered

But with courage and wisdom

I also let your vision, your voice, your presence

Leave me

Without regret

Without remorse

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Words – Hazelnut Coffee, Hope, and Collateral Damage

31 Thursday May 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Government, Liberty, Personal, Poems, Political, Spiritual

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choices, Happiness, Hope, Inspiration, Liberty, thoughts, Words, writing

Words.  They can be magic.  One single solitary word can make an incredible difference to another person.  The ability to speak and write to convey our inner thoughts and ideas to another person is magnificent and has been the foundation for the rest of mankind’s achievement and prosperity.  It is easy to take for granted what amazing things spoken and written words are since reading and speaking is commonplace.  But language allows us to communicate our thoughts and feelings which allows for understanding.  Language when used to its best purposes will illuminate us and inspire us to wonderful creativity.  We express our joy and aspirations and use language to share them with others.  Without words and the ability to write our thoughts down we would likely still be living in thatch huts.  We would have no technology, little art, and a much more bleak life.

I mean hardly anyone would use the word “lugubrious” in a conversation when the easier spoken terms gloomy or mournful or dismal are sufficient.  Saying “I’m rather lugubrious today” would likely make your friend laugh at you rather than offer sympathy.  But in a book and in the right context it is a much more intriguing word choice.

Think of how sometimes a single word can evoke such a depth of feeling.  Like HOPE.  A standard definition would say that hope is the wish for something to happen or be true, but for me it is grander than that, more powerful.   I always think of the movie “The Shawshank Redemption” when I think of hope and how hope forged a friendship and allowed men in horrible conditions to persevere.  It encompasses my dreams and deepest desires when sometimes it seems the entire world stands against me.  I think Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony is the soundtrack for hope.

Courage.  Serenity.  Compassion.  Triumphant.  Exultation.  Adoration.  Liberty.  Faith.  Love.  Elegant.  Independent.   Prosperity. Wisdom.

I love all these words.  They are more than single words.  They are the genesis of memory, they conjure whole images.   These kinds of words make us feel and think.  I could spend a whole day looking at quotes and ruminating about them and the choice of words used.  I see the word elegant and my mind pictures a beautiful night in Rio de Janeiro and a woman in a stunning black dress.  I see the word serenity and my mind goes to a trail of bluebonnets in the forest with not another soul in sight. 

But words are also important for clarity and for understanding.  For instance a thesaurus will give about 20+ synonyms for the word “surly” (good word).  But picture a close friend in a bad mood – are they being boorish or curt or gruff?  Or maybe they are just sullen or grouchy or merely disagreeable?  Rude?  Each term makes you think something slightly different.  At least they do for me.  I’d much rather deal with a friend who is just being curt than one that is being an ill-tempered grouch!

But on the flip side of the wonderful utility of words when used for precision, transparency, and comprehension are those people or entities that use words to obscure meaning, to hide truth, to make us think and feel something else than what really is being expressed.

For example a government doesn’t want its’ citizens to think too deeply or clearly when it blows people up that it disfavors.  So  “accidentally” mutilated people become “collateral damage”.  Much nicer, but means nothing – which is the intent.  You can’t think poorly of “collateral damage”, or at least you have to take the requisite mental steps to make the connection of that term to death, dismemberment, and gore.

Another example is how something like “quantitative easing” substitutes for monetizing debt or creating inflation.  We all know that printing money backed by nothing devalues all the existing currency and such activity is counterfeiting and thereby illegal and immoral –except government exempts itself and calls it something else.   I can call a donut a hammer, but I can’t pound a nail with it no matter what I call it.  So if you say the Federal Reserve is counterfeiting (printing money) and causing inflation, people might question that – hence “quantitative easing”.  Such a term obscures what is really happening and doesn’t create the same mental picture in a reader’s mind.  Another example, The State’s agents don’t “torture” – that’s much too gruesome.  They practice “enhanced interrogations”.   The State doesn’t kidnap and unlawfully imprison people – it engages in rendition and prolonged detentions.  Less clarity with relatively innocuous mental images associated with those terms.   The agents of the State don’t engage in highway robbery – they practice “civil forfeitures”.   But they still take your property, money, and assets without ever charging you with a crime and keep it!  The State doesn’t covet your land, steal it, and give it to a favored developer – it uses its’ power of eminent domain.  All nice and neat.

Ahh, so even words and language have their dark side I suppose.  It really comes down to the people using them and the intent behind their use – to obfuscate or to enlighten.  To create understanding  or to destroy it.

Well I still like words even if some use them to distort and to lie.  I think I’ll go have a cup of hazelnut coffee – two of my favorite words.

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Mutant Mosquitoes, Rod Carew, Buffalo, Badlands, and Bingo: The Family Road Trip – 4800 miles in a 1970 Ford Maverick.

27 Sunday May 2012

Posted by tmtjr in Family, Personal, Spiritual, Travel, United States

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Adventure, Badlands, Bingo, Buffalo, Camping, Canada, Car Trip, family, Indians, Mount Rushmore, Summer, Travel, Vacation, West

In a contest between a 1970 Ford Maverick and an adult bull bison – Bet it all on the buffalo.  I can tell you from the perspective of sitting inside that 1970 Ford Maverick that this is not a contest.   They both weigh approximately 2000 pounds.  The maverick stands about 53” tall (or 4 ½ feet).  The Bull tops out between 72” to 78” (or 6 to 6 ½ feet tall).  I would have said 8’ if you had asked me at the time but that was only because from a sitting position inside the car, the darn thing seemed as big as Godzilla.  I’m pretty sure we all held our breath as he walked out into the road in front of our car.  The giant swiveled his head and looked at the four of us with a gaze that seemed to say “I’ll move when I’m good and ready, don’t piss me off and I won’t smash your car into tin cans”.  I was 10 years old and that buffalo was one of the coolest and scariest animals I’d ever seen.

It was one of many memorable moments from one of those grueling (but fun) family summer vacation car trips that my generation remembers so well.  I don’t think many families take these kinds of vacations anymore, where the kids are packed into a car and you just set out to see America.  Driving hundreds of miles between destinations with no apparent agenda (at least one Dad would ever tell us), cooking on a Coleman stove, camping in a tent, and eating Spam seem to be by-gone relics of family travel.   But maybe this is where my affinity for agenda free travel was born.

In 1975, my Dad, my younger brother Ted, my older sister Kathy, and I set off from Columbus, Ohio on one of these types of trips.  I was 10.  We were taking my Dad’s 1970 hideous orange standard drive Ford Maverick.  No air-conditioning.  No FM radio.  Black vinyl seats that became the temperature of molten lava after an afternoon in the sun.  I don’t think my dad had any particular itinerary other than he wanted to drive into Canada and around Lake Superior and then go to Iowa to visit our Grandma Lois.  Everything else was going to be the whim of the moment and a matter of what struck his fancy when looking at the map in the morning – and how far he and my sister could drive without tiring.

First up was about a 500 mile leg to Mackinac Island and crossing the amazing Mackinac Bridge. At the time it was one of the longest bridges in the world. We then found a campsite somewhere in Ontario past Sault St. Marie with its large system of locks (pictured below).  These locks enable ship travel between Lake Superior and Lake Huron.   The entire area is beautiful.

Driving such distances in a small car with kids ranging in age from 17 to 6 presents its own challenges, especially in an era before electronic games, music, and video – not even an FM radio.  But we passed the time with reading, watching the countryside roll by, the famous “Yes and No” invisible ink game and quiz books, trying to keep track of license plates from the different States (parked cars don’t count), and “20 Questions”.  Of course annoying your little brother is always a spectacular way to pass the time – at least until your dad blows his lid.

We next traveled around Lake Superior to Thunder Bay, Ontario where we visited Kakabeka Falls briefly  and then went on into northern Minnesota to camp.  I don’t remember exactly where that was, but that’s because the gigantic swarm of mosquitoes that descended upon us as we set up our tent made me forget everything but escape.  It was like something out of the movie African Queen.  There were not only millions of them, but they came after us relentlessly, like a clan of starved vampires.  They drove us into the tent, without any dinner, where we remained until morning.  The mosquitoes filled every screened window and door-flap and nearly drove us insane with the constant buzz.  It was bizarre.  I’ve never seen anything like it since.

Off again! We were headed for a stay in Minneapolis to catch a baseball game.  That was one of the other great things about those car road trip vacations.  My dad loved baseball and would take us to a game if we were going to be near a stadium he had never visited and the team had a home stand.  The Twins were at home so we went.  I don’t remember who won or who the Twins played.  That’s because I was too excited about getting a ball fouled off by the Hall of Famer Rod Carew who in 1975 was probably the best hitter in baseball.  My brother was quite jealous.  For years that ball was my most prized possession.

On to Iowa and grandmother’s house we go.  A couple of the things I do remember during this extensive car trek was listening to Paul Harvey on the radio and his captivating “and now for the rest of the story” stories and the fact that Glen Campbell’s song “Rhinestone Cowboy” was a huge crossover hit that summer.  It seemed like we must have heard that song 100 times over those few weeks.  Good thing it was a pretty good song.  I still know the lyrics.

Well the visit to my Grandma was fairly typical of any family gathering, although I did manage to hit a financial bonanza for a 10 year old.  One night we drove to some tiny little town in South Dakota for Bingo.  My grandmother was a Bingo fanatic.  She would play 15-20 cards at a time – chain smoking away the whole time.  Nobody cared about smoking around kids in the 70’s.  She bought each of us 4 cards to play and wouldn’t you know it I won the “Blackout” game where you have to be the first to get every number on your card.  I was so excited I yelled “Blackout” instead of Bingo.  The winnings were $150.  For a 10 year old in 1975 that might as well have been a million bucks.  I thought my brother was going to collapse in jealousy.  First the baseball, now a fortune.  Life seemed very unfair to him.  Well, he need not have worried too much – my dad only let me keep $20 and made me put the rest in the bank.  Funny thing is I still have an account at that local Farmers State Bank in Hawarden, Iowa – started with that Bingo money.  There’s not much in it today and I’m not sure why I keep it – nostalgia I guess.  The other nights in Iowa were normally filled with playing cards – Fan tan (a betting game we played with my grandma’s jars of pennies) and Mary Widow were family favorites.  Back before cable TV and video games families seemed to play interactive games with one another.  I loved it, although we got NO mercy from Grandma when it came to betting games.  She had no reservations about taking pennies from her grand-kids!

After several days in Hawarden we took to the road once again.  It seems we just had to go to the internationally known Wall Drug – the famous store in Wall, South Dakota.   Anyone who has travelled by car anywhere west of the Mississippi has probably come across the Wall Drug signs on the side of the road stating how far it is to the store.  The signs are everywhere.  But frankly the store itself, while enormous, is a bit disappointing.  A huge tourist trap.  But it’s like a train wreck – you just have to go/watch.

One other event of note happened in South Dakota on the way to the Badlands.  My brother and I had made “forts” in the back seat by stringing up blankets.  At some point we needed some gas and a restroom break so we stopped at a service station along a fairly isolated stretch of highway.  My dad preferred the smaller highways – the scenic routes.  It was one of those stations where you had to get the restroom key from an attendant as the toilets were out on the side of the building and usually smelled like they hadn’t been cleaned in a decade.  I went and did my business and returned the key only to find the car (and my brother, Dad, and sister) GONE!  I wasn’t sure what to think and alternated between worry and anger, but after 20-25 minutes I began to get scared.  They really had left me!  Little did I know they had thought I was back under my “fort” in the backseat and took off down the road.  It wasn’t until my brother went to hit me (as brothers do) that they discovered my absence.  Well they turned around and found me by the side of the road and when I saw them laughing, I was certain in my 10 year old head they had done it on purpose!  What a**holes!  I gave the all-mighty silent treatment as long as I could to show my displeasure – which meant I probably pouted for an hour or so.  My brother and sister still laugh at my expense at that memory.  I do too – NOW.

The Badlands was our next destination and they are amazing.  They look like they are the landscape of another planet.  In my youthful ignorance I foolishly  went and kicked the side of one formation thinking it was sand.  It’s not!   Although my sore foot was better than my brother’s whole body – He jumped on the side of the one I was kicking.   I couldn’t help but wonder what could possibly live in those barren hills, but it looked like the perfect hideaway for outlaws or renegades to my 10 year old brain.  It was very exciting.  On the way out of the Badlands National Park is when we across the extraordinarily large Bull Bison I mentioned at the start of this article.  We still laugh about how damn huge that thing was.  I can’t imagine what a herd of a million of these magnificent beasts must have looked like.  One of the largest recorded herds was from 1871.  The recorded account described a herd of over 4 million buffalo that was 50 miles long and 25 miles wide!

We made our next stop at the Mount Rushmore monument with the carved faces of President’s Lincoln, Roosevelt, Washington, and Jefferson.  While I thought it was inspiring and the history of how it was made was interesting, I was much more interested in getting to the nearby Custer Battlefield as it was called then (now more appropriately called the Little Bighorn Battlefield).

Since I loved the history of the plains Indians, especially the Sioux Indians, I found that part of the trip very memorable.  What 10 year old wouldn’t be excited by a great Indian battle?  We walked along the exact fields where Custer and his command were wiped out by the Sioux and Cheyenne led by the great Sioux leader Crazy Horse.  Today the Sioux nation is carving a monument many times the size of Mount Rushmore as tribute to Crazy Horse which will be the world’s largest monument if and when it is completed.  I remain fascinated by this man to this day and have read several biographies about him.  But back in 1975 it was the best part of the trip for me to be walking on such famous ground.

It started a true love affair for me with the western United States.  The sky seems endless.  The beauty and grandeur is stunning.  The history is fascinating.

All in all that summer the four of us traveled almost 5000 miles in that small Ford – each day picking out some place within a few hundred miles that we could go see and camp nearby.  I loved seeing new places as a child.  I love going to new places still today.  Some of the most amazing things can be found right in your own home country.  World travel is wonderful, but local and regional travel can be adventures just as satisfying.  I would recommend to anyone wanting to see western United States to take a car trip (although maybe one with a better radio and some air-conditioning) and let your imagination and curiosity lead you in finding your own wonders.  Leave the electronics at home.

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