I’m Proud to be a Great Old Broad...

for Wilderness. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Jeff, did you have a sex change operation?”

No. Not at all. I’m a member of this organization. I’m considered a Great Old “Bro.” 

Here’s what the GOB are all about:

A worthy cause? I think so. I am one of 8,500 associates in over 40 chapters.

The GOB are fighting the good fight. They are BIGLY on conservation advocacy and education. 

I truly believe women are better suited at presenting a point of view than men. The “XY“ segment of humanity has an over-abundance of testosterone. This hormone can cause aggressive tendencies. Women are capable of discussion. Men come out swinging. 

So... at the height of the Covid lockdown, Suez J. from our local chapter of GOB reached out to us members for interesting and inspiring stories. I submitted this one:

Planting a Tree…                                                                   

                                                                                          

My father, a survivor of Hitler’s insane concept of human genetics, planted a tree at our house in the Bronx. The sapling was a two-foot white pine that my father appropriated from the Catskill Mountains, AKA in the “Big Apple” as the Jewish Alps. “Jeffy, watch! This tree will one day be taller than our house,” he proclaimed. Like a faithful son, I believed him.

 

One winter, a Nor’easter blizzard blew down along the eastern seaboard. The heart-attack-heavy snow broke the tiny, white pine in half. My dad, a tailor by profession, but whom Uncle Sam trained to be a medical assistant in WWII, sprang into action. He fashioned a splint made of a few sticks, a side order of rags and a lot of twine. With these meager tools and devices, he made the wounded tree whole again. He reasoned, “It works for people, why not trees?”

 

In 1978, I escaped the hassle and hustle of the Big Apple and moved out West. Now I, a son of a son of a tailor and graduate from the Syracuse College of Forestry, nurture trees at my home in Fort Collins, Colorado.

I can’t take all the credit; I get a lot of help from Mother Nature. Neighborhood squirrels burrow acorns into the mulch and forget where they placed them. A white-oak sapling will arise a season later. My furry friends do the same with apple cores and cherry and peach pits. I have a virtual fruit stand growing in my yard. We haven’t had much luck with avocado pits yet. When the oaks, peaches, apples, cherries and ashes grow too close together, I’ll go in and do a “thinning operation,” and rearrange some saplings. Once in awhile, I have to place a few up for adoption.

 

Letting go of my green children is always a difficult process. First I have to find a suitable “parent.” Then the lengthy application process begins. With questions such as, “Are you aware that Colorado is now in a drought?” Then a follow-up query, “Will you be able to provide an adequate supply of water for this young plant?” After that, I quiz the applicant about his or her general knowledge on such diverse topics as soil conditions, fertilizers and peat moss. Only when I am satisfied with their answers will we venture out Into the yard with a shovel in tow. As we dig up the adopted seedling, I make sure the new owner understands that I get visitation rights. It’s never easy to let go.

 

In the fall of 2000, I went back east to visit family and friends. I borrowed a car and drove out to see my childhood home in the Bronx. I was glad that I had faith in my Dad. He was right; that white pine tree is now taller than the house.

 

Do yourself a favor; plant a tree. It’s good for the soul.

 Suez liked my story. She asked me if I’d be interested in being interviewed for a podcast. I agreed although I know my sister-in-law, Robin is correct when she once said, “Jeffy, you write better than you speak.” 

Here’s the podcast link:     

  https://greatoldbroadsforwilderness.podbean.com/e/jeff-sambur-for-the-love-of-trees/

Please consider becoming a member of the GOB. https://www.greatoldbroads.org/

They are cool with you being an XY chromosome type of people.

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Let’s all keep fighting the good fight.

Cheers,

Jeff

                                                                                                                              

In Fort Collins I had sociopaths...

for neighbors. 

Wow! Jeff that’s harsh! OK, I’ll throttle back. At least they were quiet sociopaths. 

I have oodles of examples on why I proclaimed the above statement, but for ADD sake, I’ll only present two.

A blizzard rolled into the “Choice City.” I woke early before work to shovel the potential heart attack stuff off my sidewalks. After two pots of coffee, it didn’t take me long to clean my turf. Heck! I’ll be helpful and clear the white death from my neighbors walks too. So that’s what I began to do. I was making progress when the misanthropic couple emerged from their home. They sprinted past me on the slip-free sidewalk en route to their car. There was no “Good Morning!” Or a “Thank You!” No eye contact either. I leaned on my shovel like a city worker as I pondered my next move. Ahah! I pushed all that icy stuff back onto their walk. For good measure, I added a half ton more. That’ll learn them to be impolite to Mr. Jeffy Manners.

Another short example: My unemployed alcoholic neighbor once opened a KOA for the local homeless folks in his weedy backyard. There was no Porta Potty or “Necessary Room.” provided. There will be no photos of what transpired.

So...when I decided to end my 6.5 year Homeless by Choice lifestyle by settling in Durango, I wasn’t thinking too much about neighbors. I had my sights on a low maintenance basecamp rental, close to downtown and bigglier than the 66 square feet of living space in Barley the Van. The Parkside Terrace Townhomes was exactly what I was seeking. 

Upon moving in August 2019, I made it a point to try and get to know my many neighbors. Not easy for a guy who describes himself as a “sociable hermit.” I waved, smiled and introduced myself when the situation presented itself. 

Over a year and a pandemic later, I’m pleased to say my efforts were heavily rewarded.

Here’s a list of folks who were on my welcome wagon:

Tanya (AKA Ms Gregarious). I was having another solo woe is me Thanksgiving Day. A text came in, “Jeff, we noticed your lights on. Get over here and have Thanksgiving Dinner with us!” She didn’t have to text twice. This could be one of the kindest gestures I’ve ever received. To this day, I still thank her. 

Molly who text alerts me about impending community Happy Hours and birthday parties. Her sunny disposition always brightens my day.

Jimmy and Ethan who ply me with IPAs, poke, sliders, cerviche and tool loans while distributing manly advice and suggestions at our gatherings. 

Linsay for dropping off two six packs of delicious IPAs, just because.

Cale and Corrine my immediate neighbors. Cale took me fishing, changed my flat tire and is now building me a camper conveyance contraption for transporting Sanctuary Too into my snug garage. Corrine smiles and schmoozes with me. In pre-Covid times she doled out neighborly hugs.

Brian for his expert advice on the local mountain scene. 

Dave the Pilot all around nice and helpful guy.

Tim and Fon who always bring something (besides interesting conversation) to our Happy Hours whether it be Pisco Sours or Fon’s Thai appetizers. 

Marcia who is a patron of our Mini-Library. (I’m the Founder) and graciously gave me a gift card to the local book store along with a “welcome to the hood“ note.

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/06/barley-van-was-only.html

Meesh who volunteered to be my “Safety Bubalah” (a Yiddish term of endearment). She wants to know where I’m going and when I’ll be back. That way the authorities will have a general idea on where to look for the buzzards circling above my kosher carcass. Her boyfriend Jimmy is OK with me calling her Bubalah. Meesh makes me potato pancakes and knishes too. Jewish soul food.

So...at the risk of being a schnorrer (a sponger in Yiddish) I decided to pay the kindness forward by hosting a party. The occasion? My upcoming birthday. The guest list was my neighbors and the few other acquaintances I’ve made so far. Here was the invite. Yes there was a band too!

All these photos were taken on Party Night. Before you admonish us about lack of masks, the CDC states that consuming growlers of double IPAs provide temporary immunity to Covid. 

I feel fortunate to have chosen Durango to settle in. It’s at the epicenter of incredible people and scenery.  

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/05/seeking-contentment-in-land-of.html

The bonus is my Parkside Terrace neighbors are kind, generous, caring and thoughtful. There’s not one sociopath in the bunch! They are quiet too.

Stay safe, sane, healthy and remember to vote,

Jeff

For the Love of Books.

Barley the Van was the only “Homeless by Choice” RV equipped with book shelves. When I specced out my wandering  home, I insisted upon it. I required storage for my volumes. 

I knew enough about the lifestyle of living in a Van down by the river to understand there wouldn’t be TV or WIFI. So as an avid fan of non-fiction I would fill my downtime by reading. This wouldn’t be a hardship for me. When I’m not hiking, blogging, drinking coffee or IPAs, occasionally socializing , I read. 

When my book supply became dangerously low, (a handful of reads). I sought out “Friends of the Library” used book stores. 

Ahah! Not all Friends of the Libraries are created equal. There are Duds and Studs.

Losers ?

Snobsdale, AZ with their snippy volunteers lording over 70-100 books of marginal interest.

Telluride, CO  had a haphazard collection of books as disorganized  as the dreadlocks of the local White Rastafarians.

Winners?

McCall, ID where the 80 plus year old book selling woman attached a “Reading is Sexy” bumper sticker on her sedan. 

Others? Carbondale, Boulder and Fort Collins CO. Admirable book shops with a dedicated staff.

BUT! The Academy Award Winner is the Durango, CO “Friends of the Library.” Lela’s Book Store offers up oodles of great authors: Bill Bryson, Sebastian Junger, Timothy Egan, Hampton Sides, Doris Kearns Goodwin, Erik Larson and Tony Horwitz for name dropping purposes. The books are in fresh out of the wrapper condition. No dog ear pages, no coffee stains or scrawls in the margins. I found a community who treated the written word like priceless art. Once again, I felt like I was among “My People.” Upon settling down here, I knew I had to be a part of this book loving organization. But first, I had to see what I was getting into. From the website: 

Wow! After becoming a member, I had a one-on-one class with Maile (Volunteer Coordinator) on how to be a book seller. “The roll out bookshelves go here at this precise angle. At the end of a shift tally up the book sales. (Luckily there’s a calculator). And most of all, “Don’t Lose the Key to the Storeroom!” 

I passed the exam and worked a few substitute gigs. I loved it. 

I was ready to help with the BIGLY Book Sale. When Maile sought volunteers, I immediately signed on to be a  round trip book shlepper, (moving books from the storage unit to the Library and returning unsold books back to storage). I also scored a shift of cashiering.

Me being me, I arrived at the storage unit half hour before showtime. I was a slacker. Uber Volunteer Lynnette had already hauled 50 boxes of books to the curbside. Of course, Jewish Guilt kicked in, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here early? I was just drinking coffee and waiting to do something. I could’ve helped.” I assuaged my guilt by offering her a store bought blueberry muffin and a Cutie Orange. Others arrived along with a small truck. Before one could say, “For Whom the Bell Tolls” the truck was fully loaded.

At the Library, it took even less time to unload the word haul. Anxious volunteers were waiting there to help. Into the conference rooms the boxes went. Tables were already set up. Fiction over there, Non-Fiction on the other side and Children’s book over yonder. Maile and President Shelly were playing traffic cops by directing the book flow. I got out of the way before I got hurt.

It wasn’t long before the Durango Used Book Sale was ready for avid readers to appear the following day. 

All the volunteers were then rewarded with a sumptuous lunch buffet. I was gobsmacked. For Jews the offer of food is the ultimate show of appreciation and gratitude. I wish the world worked as well as the Durango Friends of the Library.

The book sale netted $4,561.31 for library programs. Plus! 150 pounds of books were donated to local non-profit organizations.

Alas, with the new norm of Covid, the Library and Lela’s book store have been shuttered since March 16th. 

I took this as a sign to fulfill a life long dream. I am now the Founder of the Parkside Terrace Mini-Library. The circulation desk is now open for loans and donations. It didn’t take long for our first customer to appear. The Friends of the Library donated generously to this project as well.

Last photo: I was able to attain a look in at what books will be on hand in the new Trump Presidential Library. 

Make America Read Again!