Election 2016

I am going to go out on a limb and make a Presidential Election prediction prior to the actual election. This is taking a risk, of course, that I will be publicly wrong.  Which is no big deal for anyone but myself. I'm sure you can find other wrongs on this blog.

Anyway, I am predicting Hillary to come out on top. It is true that I voted for her, so picking her as the winner is not that much of a stretch. I mean, why would I vote for someone who I don't think can win?  However, it you consider my history for voting....I can't remember the last time I voted for the winner in a Presidential Election. My track record is dismal.

But so it goes, 2016. Let's see if I can line up right this time. Hillary in a landslide. The Senate and the House stay the same.

Another Hitchhiking Post

I am thinking it was early 80's, and the purpose of the ride was to get home from school. I was going to Phoenix College ...and finances being what they were...I had no personal transportation. It was the public transit bus, or hitchhike.

Home was my brother's house at the time. On this particular day I was thumbing it.

A middle aged lady picked me up in an aging convertible, and agreed to take me all the way home.  Fine. I did not get many of those door to door excursions.  The lady looked somewhat disheveled, and had a cough and a bit of a runny nose. But a ride is a ride.

Soon, as we traversed the city, I learned there was a catch. The lady herself was homeless, and asked if I could spot her some cash.

Fine.  I was sooooo naive at the time, and somewhat tender-hearted, so I said 'ok'.  Only, see...I mentioned finances being what they were...I had no cash. None.

I had a few bucks in checking, so I told her I would need to run in and write her a check. And she took me up on it.

So, as we pulled up in front of my brother's house, I ran in and got my checkbook. I wrote her a check for $15.00.

Only....

I soon found out that the $15.00 was sufficient funding for me to qualify for certain carnal benefits. I had accumulated sufficient credit to supplement the ride.  Or to say, there are different types of rides.

OK, so technically speaking, I had just paid for services, in advance. Unbeknownst. I mentioned to you , the reader, that I was naive. I also mentioned to you something about the runny nose and the cough.

To some degree of disappointment for my benefactor, further services were declined.

Thus ends the story of the first and only time I ever 'paid' for it.

Cheers...nca

Eres Huérfano

"He mounted up and road out down the little dusty street. Nodding to those he passed along his way. Riding like a young squire for all his rags. Carrying in his belly the gift of the meal he'd received

which both sustained him and laid claim upon him.  For the sharing of bread is not such a simple thing, nor is it's acknowledgement."  

Cormac McCarthy, The Crossing

Yes, I went back to the well and pulled a second quote, back to back:post to post, from the same book.  It's not too surprising really, because the McCarthy themes in this book parallel the brief period in my youth where I hitchhiked cross country and internationally several times. Whereas I went to that great country to the north, the hero in the book (Billy Parham) traveled thrice to the country south of here.  

Whereas Billy Parham was soon to be an orphan, I was very much like an orphan, culled out from the family herd as I was. Moving forward to the now, I truly have become an orphan. And, like Billy, I have always had the heart of a nomad.

The quote above hit me like a hammer.  I often thought a lot about the people who sustained me along the way on my journeys. Metaphor intended. 

What 'claim' did those whom picked me up, or fed me bread, lay upon me? Certainly now, 35 years later these benefactors are much more vivid in my memories than I am in theirs. For surely, now at this point in my life they can stake no other claim save that claim upon me than that which I allow.

To tell one story of my journeys my companion and I were picked up by some girls in western Canada. They drove a truck pulling an empty U-Haul. They allowed for us to ride in the U-Haul, a safer proposition then having us ride in the cab with them. They were both attractive. They took us on one of the longest single lifts we were to receive on that trip....almost 500 miles with us. When they got to their destination, their home, they allowed for us to stay in the U-Haul for the night, and they left us and went into their house. Some time later, their parents came out and asked us to come in for showers, shelter, and dinner. The girls were resting from the long drive. When the girls woke up and came down, the two of us were showered, fed, and enjoying talk and drinks with their parents. The girls were surprised to see us, maybe a little annoyed.

Nomadic strangers intruding on their lives for a brief moment in time. Providing shelter, sustenance, and washing the soil from our skin and clothes.  Our appreciation was measured by the degree of our sincerity as we thanked them when we resumed our trek.  Was our gratitude felt to be enough as we disappeared from their life? Were the warm fuzzies they received as benefactors sufficient for them to offer further sustenance to future travelers...or had we exhausted their good will. Who knows? Not me for that was the only moment here on earth in which our paths crossed.

We collected the signatures of all those who harbored us or proffered transport. Etched in our Rand McNally are all those who crossed our path with open arms. A register of good hearts, those willing to open a door and allow strangers repast. But for those two strangers, our journey would have been thwarted but not ended. If not them, someone else would have stepped in and their names would now have been entered in the atlas. For this continent is filled with good hearts, with those willing to step out of their shadows and act on inherent internal prompts toward kindness. 

My companion and I, too, were like 'young squires' for all our rags. It certainly was not our attire, nor our cleanliness that attracted acts of kindness. Even the passage of years filtering my memories  won't suppress my awareness that the two of us must have been an assault on all senses as dusty, unshaven/un-showered vagrants.  Perhaps our youth contributed to the tug at the stranger's kind hearts, or some other prompting  touched that place in the heart where acts of kindness are conceived. 

The memories of those motives are long gone. I could only guess. Or those whom provided aid to strangers could comment below if they so choose. But as for me, I am truly grateful for all who crossed my path and proffered kindness. If I could list you all here, like names on the RAND-MAC, I would. My appreciation is not a simple thing, nor simply stated.  As the charater 'Billy Parham' actually did in the book, I would write it out in flour upon the stove top for all to see. So I write it here. If sometime in 1980, or 1981 you stopped and offered a lift or a bite to eat to two wayward strangers, let it be known that we both are well, that through your help and the help of hundreds of others the two of us did safely reach our destination. And rest assured that your kindness registers, is remembered and is truly appreciated.

Cheers, nca