The Stepping Stones of Life are very Slippery

By Dan Barber

From the time we take our first steps to become a toddler we are launched on a quest for adventure. I recall living in a world where everything was big. The house I lived in with my parents and grandparents was huge, the walk I took with my grandfather to the corner store seemed like it took forever… Of course my grandfather was walking and I was running to try to keep up with him. The amount of time I had to wait for Christmas took forever. Also, while in school the day seemed to drag on and on until recess or the end of the day. Summer break seemed like a forever blissful playtime because the days were so much longer than in the winter…more light from the Sun, same amount of hours in the day…I know that now.

Many years later when I took my children by the old house and neighborhood where I spent my toddlerhood I was amazed by how everything in my young life had shrunk. The house was much smaller than I remembered, the distance to where the corner store once stood now seemed to be right next door to the small house! Somehow my universe shrunk.

Time also seems to be speeding by faster and faster. It seems like just I graduated from high school but in fact I just turned 65 and had to sign up for Medicare! With nine Grandchildren and a Great Grandchild on the way makes the time between birthdays and holidays way too short a time to get caught up.

I’ve been told a number of times over my lifetime that I was “wasting my time” by “doing nothing.” I counter that it isn’t possible to “waste time” because time will continue on until the end and there isn’t any clocks or calendars around to measure it. Also, it’s not possible to “do nothing” because just the act of doing nothing is in itself is doing something.

A couple of years ago I wrote something about my 3-year-old, at the time, grandson. We spent a morning just sitting on a bench at Knott Sky Park here in our neighborhood watching a park and recreation employee riding around on a mower cutting the grass while my grandson was breathing in and out on his harmonica. We could have been mistaken for wasting our time doing nothing, but we were being hypnotized by the beautiful morning and the hum of the riding lawn mower and my grandson’s out of tune musical experiment. What I was doing was working on my immortality, at least in the memory of my grandson. In addition we were soaking up some Sun and the vitamins it provided.

I suspect that a lot of people can equate the waste of time and doing nothing with our political leaders we elect to represent us. We all know, or should know, that politics is always local, which means a Senator, who was voted into office by the population center of Las Vegas to represent the State of Nevada will no doubt be very popular with the people of Las Vegas, but could be considered a total moron by the folks who live in Elko, Nevada or some other small town in the state.

I suspect that I need a lot more time to work on my immortality with my other Grandchildren and, soon a Great Grandchild, so I’d better stop wasting my time by rambling on here about doing nothing and get busy doing something!

Genetic Memories rerun

By Dan Barber

I do believe that we possess some genetic memories from our ancestors.  When I start reading about or researching my ancestors, I can almost travel back in time and imagine what my ancestors had to go through just to live... They had an impact on me and an impact on American society.

My 11^th Great Grandfather, Henry Bull, and several others had a falling out with the Puritans in Massachusetts back in the early 1600s so they left and moved south to Newport, Rhode Island.  There they didn’t want to be judged or harassed just because of their religious beliefs, so they drafted and signed the Newport Compact creating a community free of religious persecution.  This doctrine allowed the first Jewish Synagogue and the First Baptist Church on this continent to be built in Newport, R.I.  The Newport Compact was probably one of the precursors leading to the idea to ensure separation of Church and State as it’s spelled out in our Constitution.  And people have been fighting about the intent of the idea ever since.

In 1839 a young Martin Hirsch, a recent German immigrant, left civilization behind in Pennsylvania and joined the other westward bound German settlers and homesteaded a claim on what was then the edge of the American frontier in a relatively new state called Missouri.

Missouri was annexed as America’s 24th state only 18 years earlier in 1821. Martin found a fine and productive claim located about 12 miles southwest of present day St. Joseph, Missouri. He met 17-year-old Mary Jane Raney and they were married on August 7, 1845. During this period of time in history, England was threatening to recognize Texas as an independent country, this forced the United States Congress in 1845 to annex Texas as the 28th state which led to the Mexican War which began May 8, 1846, and lasted until 1848.

As with many other homesteaders of Missouri at the time, Martin and his new bride spoke only German.  While surviving in this rural isolation, with the threat of the Mexican’s from the south, and the Indians all around, Martin built a home, cleared the land and created a farm, got married and raised a family.  His children grew up, survived a Civil War, and Americanized the spelling of their name to “Hersh” and moved on to other parts of the country to build their own legacies in Kansas and Nebraska.

My great-grandfather, William, homesteaded near Broken Bow, Nebraska where my Grandfather, Norval, and his brothers were born… they all lived through snow storms, locust infestations, tornadoes and illnesses that took many lives.   I’m quite sure that if I were placed down in the 1839 wilderness of this country that I would soon starve to death or die from exposure to the weather.

William spent many months away from home as he worked for the Union Pacific Railroad, as a superintendent of construction, building many train depots in small communities on the spur lines of the railroad… many of which survive to this day… albeit as museums or relics of the past.

Grandpa Hersh wasn’t interested in farming or ranching… after a stint in the United States Marine Corps during World War I, he returned to Nebraska and moved to the big city of Omaha, where he worked and lived until he retired.  He then moved to California to be closer to his children and grandchildren.

My Grandfather’s short Marine Corps experience provided him with the Marine Corps discipline for the rest of his life.  I adored my Grandpa and Grandma Hersh and spent every minute I could with them.  Grandpa Hersh always seemed to be very business-like and always impeccably dressed and groomed.  Whenever he walked anywhere, which was almost always, his pace was always brisk.  If I was with him, he was always telling me to “pick up your feet.”  When I was five years old, I could never figure out how to pick up my feet without falling on my behind.  But, because of that experience, I never wasted any time in getting to where I was going while walking.  It also seemed as though Grandpa was always cleaning or polishing something… again this was probably something he got from his Marine Corps experience.

He was also an avid collector… he collected stamps, coins, and rocks.  Grandpa’s favorite hobby was Rock Hounding.  His collection had specimens from all over the world.  If he spotted a rock while taking a walk, he couldn’t resist bending over and picking it up to inspect it.  Every rock in his collection had a number on it, and Grandpa kept a ledger with the number listed from the rock with the common and scientific name for the rock or mineral and where it was found or who gave it to him.  After he retired Grandpa had more time to clean and polish, garden and collect things.  Grandpa even got into polishing rocks and making jewelry.  At Grandpa and Grandma’s house, it was impossible to find one weed in Grandpa’s lawn or garden, or anything out of place in their perfectly maintained home.  Their home and garden was the pride of the neighborhood.

I can see some of my Grandpa Hersh in my children and grandchildren today.  My oldest son is an avid Rock Hound, and when I would take my oldest granddaughter out for a walk when she was younger, she couldn’t resist stooping over to pick up a rock to inspect to either reject or put in her pocket.  It’s that genetic memory thing…  Now she is very impeccable in her dress and grooming… and she is always cleaning or polishing something… today she is an accomplished photographer and proud Army wife living with her husband in Washington state.

Trust in your beliefs

By Dan Barber

I believe that old "Faustian bargain" if one sells their soul for fame or fortune then they will eventually have hell to pay… whether you have faith or not, our history shows us that this statement is true.

There are those who obtained what they thought was very important to them only to discover that it caused great pain.  Perhaps they reached the pinnacle of their life early and then had to live on for many years on the downside of that high to the end, always missing what they once had.  How many once famous people have recognizable faces but seem to be adrift because no one cares about them anymore because their talent burned itself out, or they no longer have a purpose in people’s lives.

I thought that I had a goal once… a goal that could have destroyed my loved ones and myself if I had achieved it. Fortunately, I discovered the path towards that goal was fun, but the goal was not really my life’s purpose.  

For a long time, I thought that I needed to have someone write a script for me to have a personality or purpose. I discovered that I have a whole team of writers giving me purpose. My entire family is the team who give me my personality and purpose. I am very grateful for that discovery. My destiny was and is my family.

Our children and grandchildren give us our immortality if we can leave them with good memories  and life lessons that they can pass on to their descendants. Only then the memory of us will live on long after we are dust. I like being referred to as Husband, Dad, Grandpa, Brother, Uncle, Cousin and Friend. But with some of the grandkids living nearby, one of the titles can be exciting. There was once a television advertisement on when a little boy cries out “Grandpa!”… That startled me every time, it woke me from my nap quicker than anything because I thought that something has happened with one of the kids and they were calling for my help!

As I stated in an earlier blog, if our heavenly reward is to relive our life experiences over and over again as if it was the first time, then we need to create as many good experiences as we can right here on this earth. Don’t drag dreadful experiences to the grave with you because wouldn’t it be hell to have to relive those bad memories for eternity? I recently shared a thought on social media... “God will forgive you…just ask. Then forgive yourself and peace will follow.” I believe that.

A very smart young lady that I know told me that it is very hard going through life being angry all the time… it is much more fun to be happy, while, in the process of forgiving yourself, you might want to also forgive those who you might be angry with.

Revisiting the Oasis of Mara

Article and photos by Dan Barber

I live in the City of Twentynine Palms, California. Before it became Twentynine Palms it was known as the Oasis of Mara… I think that I prefer the Oasis of Mara name because it conjures up beauty with a mix of desert romance.

Creative use of 29!

Note, the local preference is to spell out Twentynine as a single word without hyphenation… and many local citizens abhor using the numerals 29 to describe where they live, unless some creativity can be added to the title.

The name “29 Palms” just causes some people that come here to start counting palm trees along the streets to see if it’s truly named for its number of palm trees. While counting they may miss some of the beauty. 

Some people who have come through my adopted town have attempted to attach their own view of this place by calling it “29 Stumps” or shortened simply to “The Stumps.” Legend hints that the Oasis of Mara became 29 Palms when a surveyor came upon the oasis and counted the 29 California Palms surrounding encampment of the Chemehuevi People… this is also probably where this group of native people received the name “29 Palms Band of Chemehuevi.

The original Oasis of Mara

New Indian Casino now overlooks
the original Oasis of Mara
and Chemehuevi burial ground.

Since the beginning of Twentynine Palms it has always been associated with the military in some way. Following World War I it became the home to many veterans who suffered from the effects of mustard gas on their lungs used in that war. At the onset of World War II the military built an air base to train glider pilots here. Then with the Korean War the United States Marine Corps took over the former Army base titled, “Condor Field” to create a Live Fire Marine Corps training base. The name is now the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center, Twentynine Palms.

Chemehuevi burial ground.

Business people and city leaders have tried to coax people to visit this desert hideaway by coming up with slogans like “A beautiful desert oasis” or “An Oasis of Murals” another comes to mind that was once tried “The Gateway to the Mojave”… What’s wrong with the original “Oasis of Mara?”

James Cagney's Desert Getaway

So many people have come to this place and at first sight think of it as a dusty desert town. We do have a lot of dust here, but there is also a lot of beauty if you look for it. I’ve heard some people exclaim that “there’s nothing to do here!” Sometimes doing nothing is a blessing. I can spend hours just sitting and enjoying the magic of nature. This place is a dream scape where creative people can create with very little distraction. There are many writers, visual artists and performing artists to include musicians, actors and dancers who choose to visit or even live here. James Cagney a very successful actor in his time picked Twentynine Palms to build a small home where he could escape Hollywood to study painting with one of the old time artists who lived in the desert.

Me doing nothing.

U2 used the Harmony
Motel sign for an album
cover.

I have seen famous people walking down the street here without anyone taking notice. People come here to escape the big cities. I have run into people who want big box shopping built in the area. I’m rather proud of the fact that I have to drive nearly 20 miles to get to big box store of any kind. It is an outing when my wife and I have to drive more than 50 miles to get to a mall. I tell people that if they want to be a mall rat, then they should move to a big city… because we only have desert rats out here. 

Because we are a military town we do have an abundance of tattoo parlors, massage parlors, and barber shops, which are always full because Marines have to get haircuts just about every other day (disclaimer, my Granddaughter's boyfriend's father owns all but one barber shop in town). A few years ago one of our successful Inn keepers and a city booster suggested that all of the tattoo parlor owners get together and create a tattoo parlor colony and market their services world-wide. Tattoos have became more common place on civilians then on military men and women due to restrictions placed on them for the promotion of good order and discipline.

Mural honoring the Marines in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

It’s probably human nature to try to put a stamp of ownership on something or some place instead of just trying to blend into the environment. When I see the city lights of urban sprawl from a mountain top I cringe. When I see the hi-rise hotels and city lights of Honolulu I wonder if the weight of all that development will eventually sink Oahu below the ocean.

Looks like the petroglyph of a long
ago native citizen of the area
chasing a rabbit.

I hope my adopted home never changes because I love the solitude of the desert and the way it can lead people to become creative. One of the things I used to tell my military co-workers at the Marine Corps base was, “The longer we have you here in the desert, the easier it is to entertain you.” Come for a visit and check out our murals, sculptures along with the multitude of art galleries or natural desert beauty.

Is this a painted mural or an
artist at work with a bull
looking on? Stop by to
check it out.

Big Horn Sheep are also residents of the area. But these
guys won't scramble away from the photographer.

Maybe Edvard Munch got the inspiration for his painting
"The Scream" from this rock at the Joshua Tree National Park.

We have a lot of sculptures to entertain
and to try and guess what they mean.

Coyotes are a sight in our
neighborhoods

We are known for having
a lot of sunshine.

I would hate to run into a real one of
these.

Maybe the artist was inspired for this creation from alien
crops circles.

Hollywood, entertain me don't bore me

By Dan Barber

I am a self-described dolt when it comes to culture. I don’t get foreign language movies, fine wine or impressionist art.

I just read in one of my newspapers that I just love to hammer when they get the story wrong or completely askew when they slant it too far left or right, that another foreign language film festival is going to take place in one of our nearby desert towns.

I just don’t understand the draw of watching a movie and having to read the subtitles all at the same time. When I spend the time watching a movie, I want to be entertained. I want some escapism I want to laugh, cry or to think. When I spend the time reading a book, I want the same thing… but putting the both of them together into a single activity is just exhausting for me.

Watching a breathtaking filmed scene is nice however if I’m reading the subtitle I could miss what the film maker is trying to show me… on the other hand, if I’m watching the film instead of reading the subtitle I could miss what the actors or narrator are saying.

I suppose a film festival gives our local TV and radio station “celebrities” and fans  a chance to mingle with movie stars, past, present and future. And it gives recent film school graduates a chance to showcase their “art.” I’m thinking that “Rocky 6” shown in France with French subtitles can be a leading candidate for foreign film of the year there!

Wine is also a mystery to me. People have given me wine as a gift, I thank them for their generosity, I then put the bottle in my wine rack because I’m hoping that one day this bottle of wine will be sold at auction for a million dollars to a rich person who really likes wine. This idea came to me one day when I was bored so I looked up one of the bottles of wine that I had stored on my wine rack for the last 20 years. I learned that particular bottle of wine was no longer available, I thought wow I own the last surviving bottle of that particular batch of wine! But was it because every bottle of that brand and year sold out, or was it the subject of a product recall that I received as a gift?

I have tried tasting wine, but it all tastes the same to me. It could be red, white pink or purple, wet or dry. I have never developed a taste for wine and couldn’t tell one from the other. When I was much younger we used to (illegally) buy a gallon of a wine for a couple of bucks, a gallon of apple cider then we would dump both gallons into a big pot over a fire at the beach with a handful of cinnamon sticks, bring it all to a boil and then drink it to warm us up on cold nights while "fishing."

I am also afraid to buy wine… when I go into a liquor store they have a bunch of different brands with different prices… I could accidently fork over a small fortune for a bottle of wine that could have come from the same batch that I bought years ago for $2 a gallon and I wouldn’t know the difference. I drink cheap beer and it is a no-brainer on what brand to buy.

Impressionist art can lead me to become a hoarder. In the past while cleaning out the attic of the house I just bought I came across a painting that I could not figure out how to view. If I hung it on the wall it might be upside down or inside out. My fear of throwing stuff out comes from the time I read a story about someone who bought what they thought was a painter’s drop cloth for a couple of bucks at a garage sale, but turned out to be a valuable piece of art that sold for millions of dollars at auction.

Now that I’m retired I try to create what I call yard art… mostly because my wife won’t allow me to display my work in the house, so it stays in the yard or garage. Maybe one day my grandkids can sell it at auction or take it to the dump.

It’s time for another beer and maybe a nap.

Opinions are like belly buttons, everyone has one... Here's mine (opinion)

By Dan Barber

Every four years Americans witness the clash of “The Giant Egos” where the individual who possesses the biggest and brightest Ego with the most money usually wins the contest to become President of the United States.

It seems the drive to become America’s Chief Executive Officer has been corrupted by the need to “feed the greed.” I have often wondered why anyone would want the job of U.S. President. The title carries a huge risk. One can leave the office with a legacy of greatness, or a legacy of a looser which is determined by a very narrow margin of the planet’s population.

I once read that some politicians and mass murderers share a psychopathic personality disorder because they usually don’t or can’t show empathy for the actions they take. They believe they are above anyone else, regardless of the “optics” or the math error in the “calculus.”

Deep study of a candidate’s character is vital for Americans to select a President who will leave office with a legacy of greatness.

Our current Commander in Chief and his family feels the need to escape the pressure of the White House with seemingly frequent and expensive vacations or weekend getaways such as “date nights” in New York City or for weekend golfing jaunts in Florida or Palm Springs, Calif., annual vacations in Martha’s Vineyard, Hawaii, or first family trips to Europe and Asia. Obama’s supporters like to point out that George Bush spent more days on vacations then Obama. But, they leave out the fact that most of Bush’s vacation days were spent at his Texas home…much cheaper than flying around the country or globe on Air Force One. 

The image of our President hinges on coverage from the institution of the media. Images of a President playing golf on an exclusive golf course or playing in the surf on a Hawaiian beach are much more glamorous than a President chopping weeds on a Texas property.

Will this be the legacy of the Obama administration? To me and “my optics” Obama is a looser. I’m sure he is a very fine community organizer for Chicago or a union lawyer, but a huge failure for not only America’s populations, but for the world’s populations as well. Sticking one’s head in a golf course sand trap will not make terrorism go away. Blaming any number of problems on false political narratives (lies) or poorly produced videos will not cure them. Creating legislation through executive fiat or using like minded judges in the judicial branch of our government to force social change will not fully change social norms.

Refusing to consider compromise or allow input from any elected representative from an opposing political party in writing or rewriting legislation can only lead to disastrous results and added expenses for many citizens to deal with. Allowing a lazy or blindly loyal lawmaker to cast his or her vote for a bill without even reading it is in itself legislative malpractice.

America needs a leader who will lead not follow. In this next General Election, study the candidate’s characters before making your decision. Do not rely on a single “sound bite” or a speech delivered by an individual that was quite possibly written by someone else… try to balance the photo ops with reality.

Pay attention to the candidates and leave the belly button lint alone.

Am I losing my mind or just going crazy?

By Dan Barber

One risk of growing old is losing one’s mind…not going crazy, but losing memory. This process can lead to crazy though.

My morning routine is to rise, go to the coffee maker and pour myself a cup of coffee…if I remembered to set it up the night before. I Then log on to my computer, after watching my coffee maker brew my first cup of coffee, to read the news, check email then look in on my social media accounts…in that order.

For years I used a computer that my son handed down to me when he updated his computer.  It had the Windows XP operating system, which worked just fine for me. On that computer I could access everything I needed…news and email then later on social media.  Since I retired a couple of years ago I relied on that computer to backup my own brain. Since then the aged brain of the computer starting slowing down because of a lack of support from its creator (Microsoft) just like my own old brain was slowing down. This caused me to make a crazy decision… I bought a “refurbished-gently used or second-hand computer” with an unfamiliar operating system of Windows 7.

For a couple of days I muddled through my new computer options and found the “homepage” that looked familiar to me including the all important links to my email and social media sites. I understood that I would have to make up my own password just to turn on my computer because my son’s old password no longer worked. Not a problem, I entered a password that I would never forget.

The next day a window popped up saying that for a limited time I could download Windows 10 for free! Now that is a good deal I thought, because a few days earlier I saw a copy of Windows 10 at a big box store I was shopping at listed for nearly $200. I opted to download the free Windows 10. That process required me to make some changes to my computer… I thought not a problem, I could do that, but I was faced with new unfamiliar challenges, I thought, I can deal with that.

This morning I woke up got my coffee, after it finished brewing, sat down at my computer and entered the password that I would never forget to turn on my computer… I got the message that it was the wrong password! After repeated attempts to start my computer I thought the end of my mind was near! Then I read the message on the screen below my password box on how to reset the password. OK, no problem, however, I needed access to the internet to reset my password. I couldn’t get my computer turned on so what am I supposed to do! I fought down the crazy impulse to throw my computer across the room, then I remembered I could log on to the web through my smart phone.

I’m old; another process of aging is losing the ability to see small print, i.e., web pages on smart phones! I took a stab at it anyway; I grabbed my magnifying glass and logged on to my smart phone.

I used to work for the government; they warn you to never write down passwords because people can find them and hack into your work computer! The most secure web sites want you to create a password using numbers, upper and lower case letters and special symbols… from 8 to 12 characters long, and you have to change your password every 6 months or so… and you aren’t allowed to use any previous characters you used in your last six passwords!

In addition, to recover forgotten passwords you are required to list several security questions that you can use to recover your forgotten password! The problem with this process is different systems use different questions!

OK, I’m crazily drifting away… The small print on my smart phone starts asking me the security questions, which I immediately get wrong because they are the security questions I used for something else in my past!

I try it again, then when I get down the list of questions I start to become crazily paranoid! I am prompted to enter the last four digits of my credit card, etc. I immediately hang up!

With my smart phone in hand with the Google log in box staring at me I ask (pray) to Google to help me. Immediately I get a phone number that Google automatically calls for me and I get a friendly young man on the phone telling me not to worry; he will help me get my computer to operate again… he takes me through some steps of which none work!  He again assures me that they can help but he has to get a level 2 technician on the line and their service is $120 for a year of protection or $60 for this month only. OK, I willingly forked over $60, via my credit card, just to end my pain. I’m sure Google will collect their share from the referral.

 I’m now speaking  to Level 2 technician whose second language is English, however he is a very nice young man who is probably used to dealing with old men who are mentally deficient when it comes to computer technology.  I give him permission to remotely take control of my computer.  He takes my computer through those screens that looked familiar and discovers that since I upgraded my new computer just a few days earlier from Windows 7 to Windows 10 I was prompted to enter a new password! Now I remember!

I take control and enter the new password that will open Windows 10 vice Windows 7 or Windows XP! It works!

I knew that my paranoia of anything related to computers is based on self-preservation and peace of mind!

I’m still fighting the urge to fling my computer across the room, but now for an entirely different reason! I’m thinking the nice young man just made a note on my account, “id10t trouble ticket solved = $60.”