Monday, May 27, 2024

Basecamp by Choice…

Back in the day when I didn’t possess a physical address, I named my unique lifestyle “Homeless by Choice.” 


For 6.5 years, there were no monthly rent or mortgage payments. I spent my money wandering around the world. To be frank, (but don’t call me Frank) I’d still be out there if I were able to script the weather and length of daylight hours. (Low 70s with a few cotton-ball clouds accompanied by 12-14 hours of sunshine). However I lacked those superpowers to make it so. 

Plus, honestly I began to feel lonely “out there” too.



In that handful plus of years I was always on the lookout for possible places to settle down. I deemed Idaho, Wyoming and Montana too far north (long winters) and too far right-wing conservative for me. 



I previously attempted Tucson, Arizona  but it turned out to be my four years of discontent.




California in my opinion is the most diverse and beautiful state in the country but 39 million other people think so too. 

Oregon and Washington are nicknamed the “Great Northwet” for a reason. 



The Mormon influence in Utah makes getting an IPA or just chillin’ at a brewpub too challenging and limiting. 




I love New Mexico and truly believe it’s the “Land of Enchantment” but never heard a town or city calling my name. 



That left  Durango, Colorado and its epicenter location to the incredibly interesting and scenic Four Corners region. Being here is equivalent to winning the Powerball of natural wonder.



It’s been nearly five years since I’ve been paying rent and utilities in this small city of 19,000. Guess what? It hasn’t been a panacea for my feeling of loneliness.








I’m not sure if it’s me or a sign of the times, (or both) but meaningful relationships are hard to come by here.




This leaves me with the option of hanging full time in Durango and experiencing social deprivation or heading out and exploring the four cardinal directions of the Four Corners. Right, left, in front of me and behind me. Hence, now I call my in and out (mostly out) of Durango lifestyle “Basecamp by Choice.” 



CLARIFICATION!!

I’m still residing in Durango. Just not that often! I do have a physical address there. Been there done that with the Homeless by Choice lifestyle. No mas.


Remember the name of my blog is the Wandering Wondering Jew, not the Wondering Homebody Jew. 

If you were given two solo Happy Hour views, which would you choose?

There are times during my campouts where I’ll speak out loud just to make sure my vocal cords still function. There are days in Durango when the only words I’ll speak is “Yes Please! I’d like another IPA” I prefer the former instead of the ladder. 





The Wandering Wondering Jew rest his case.






Stay safe out there and keep exploring,
Cheers!
Jeff










Monday, April 22, 2024

Dispatches from a Medical Piece…

of Kosher Meat.

If you’re been following the WW J blog you may recall the “Health is our greatest wealth” post. 


In the blog I described a half year of medical discontent. I went from aging incrementally to seemingly aging exponentially. With this in mind, I reckoned it was time to score a nearby general practitioner or now  what’s called a primary care provider. It was time to go local for my yearly blood pressure medicine supply and occasional specialist referrals. 

In Durango, I quickly discovered you don’t select docs as much as settle for one. Most docs had full case loads and weren’t accepting new patients. One doc said he wasn’t taking patients over 65 years of age. I guess if I wanted to press the issue, I could have sued him for age discrimination.

booked an appointment months in advance for an internist chosen for me by the scheduling folks. When that morning arrived, I was ushered into exam room where a nurse took my vital signs. 

Now my medical saga begins. 



I’m the type of guy whose blood pressure begins to spike just by seeing a BP cuff. Hypertension runs deep in the Sambur clan. As a firefighter/EMT I saw many a patient suddenly afflicted by a stroke caused by high blood pressure. Having a CVA (cardiovascular accident) was a club I didn’t want to join. Of my medical fears, strokes rate in the cosmos on my list. So of course my BP was high.



When the dowdy 40-something year old Doc appeared it was like two ambulances (with lights and sirens on) passing in the night. My primary concern was getting another year supply of BP meds. Her concerns was for a generic almost seventy year old male patient. It went something like this.

“I see you haven’t had a colonoscopy since 2008. Colon cancer is on the rise, ya know.” 

She didn’t ask me about my rainbow colored diet consisting of mostly fruits/vegetables, with a lean protein tossed in for good measure. I consider the chance of me getting colon cancer to be on the low end. She pressed the issue a bit more. I came close to telling her to mind her own colon.



Next she lit on vitamin D.

I answered. “Vitamin D? Isn’t that the sunshine vitamin?” Saying this as I pulled up my sleeve exposing my 365 day a year mahogany tan. 

“Well, the sun is less effective for vitamin D production the further from the equator you get.” 



She didn’t ask about the  D supplements I take each morning either. Vitamin D deficiency is low on my worry list too.

When she asked about my sleep pattern, I honestly chirped, “Lousy. Apparently my prostate has grown so large the US. Postal Service issued a Zip Code for my organ. I wake up often to go potty.”

She didn’t laugh at my attempt at prostate humor.



“Well! It might be your sleep is off because of the altitude. You might be experiencing sleep apnea. Durango is 7000 feet in altitude, you know.”

I corrected her. “No, it’s 6512 feet.” 

I didn’t bother to tell her about the great sleeps I’ve had while camping at 11,500 to 12,000 feet. Far, far away from the Texan tourists below me. 







Eventually she decided to retake my BP. “Whew! It’s higher than before. I’ll need more readings before I give you another BP meds prescription. Get a cuff at Walgreens and start taking your own readings three times per day.”

I held my tongue about her nudging me about medical issues which were a low concern to me while ignoring the purpose of my visit. To replenish my supply of BP meds. In essence, I left the office thinking she was holding my meds hostage.

Hmmm! That office visit didn’t go well. Essentially she planted a tiny Redwood seed of BP/stroke fear and angst in me. Over the course of a few days it sprouted and achieved top ten tallest Redwoods in the world 🌎 status. Each time I took my BP it was high. I might as well have been pounding bamboo shoots beneath my fingernails.i wasn’t doing myself any favors. I decided to go the medical ignorance is bliss route. I pitched the BP cuff into a closet. 




But yet I still didn’t feel right. I was nervous and anxious. It was the weekend so the med clinic of my discontent was closed. I found an Urgent Care for a virtual visit! Promptly on Sunday at 10 am, I had my first and hopefully last FaceTime doctor’s visit. 



He was a young man with nice manners and a dude beard. He asked a few questions and told me to retake my BP again. Of course it was high. He wrote a new prescription before we disconnected. A minute later he called back. Apparently the medical malpractice alarm went off for him. He was probably nervous and anxious. The doctor’s order was direct. “Go to an ER NOW!” He specified one nearby and told me he’d call ahead. He didn’t. 

When I arrived, the first words I heard from a receptionist behind a plate glass window was this. “You know this is an ER? This will be an expensive visit. Are you aware of that?” 



Nice bedside manner which of course did wonders for relaxing me. NOT! 

I filled out the paperwork before being admitted. There I semi-reclined for two hours with an EKG monitor attached to my chest. Results? no big deal. Blood was drawn for lab work. Results? no big deal. A Doctor darted in and out of the room. Mostly out.

All this commotion while being nagged by a hardened ER nurse. 

“You might want to stop salting your food.” I gave her my “Duh!” Look.

“You shouldn’t drink Gatorade either. It’s high in sodium.” That warranted a double Duh look. 

Once the ordeal was over, the Doc wrote me a prescription for my original BP meds for 15 days. Durango docs are sure chintzy when it comes to prescribing long term meds. My total out of pocket cost? $1111.00. Ouch. That hurt.



On Monday am, I still wasn’t feeling right. Then my phone went ballistic on text messages from the virtual doc and the high priced ER. “If you’re not OK, call your primary care provider.” Talk about passing the buck.

However the dowdy Doc was booked until Thursday. I decided to go to the clinic just the same. I was pretty stressed. I spoke to a nice receptionist. “I was here last week. My blood pressure is still high. I’d like to see a doctor please.” 

With those words of medical desire, I was quickly led into an exam room where once again a nurse took my BP. Still high. 

Then I said, “I’m scared. I don’t want to have a stroke. Please help me.” Then I lost it. I started to weep. 



It wasn’t just my high blood pressure which created this dramatic moment. It was my obsession with my whole medical and mental Megillah.

A) The hope that the four congealed chopped chicken liver injections into my arthritic knee would provide the relief I desired to get me through the spring, summer and fall of my high octane activity seasons. What I refer to as my calendar time to thrive.

B) The memory of a recent dehydration caused almost fainting episode on a hike. This time within  sight of my Subaru. I sat down before I fell down, finished off the rest of my Nalgene bottle and walked away like nothing happened. Except the memory.

C) The possibility of a medical out-patient procedure to reduce my Alaska sized prostate to a more manageable Texas sized one. The Doctor assured me the procedure would “improve your quality of life.” Meaning? The chance that I could sleep many hours in a row instead of my present minutes in a row. A true miracle. 

D) Lastly but hardly the least, after nearly five years of residency in Durango, I still feel isolated and alone here. My dream of meeting a possible girlfriend/wife, feeling a sense of community or simply knowing a few Happy Hour buddies to schmooze with has evaded me. This makes all the above health issues worse since I lack a local to share my Kosher whine with. I have no one to vent to. No bueno. The aging process is rough enough, going it alone is the pits. 



A few hours later I saw another Doctor. He’s youngish, fit and possesses a military bearing. (There’s a reason for that. He graduated from the US Army Medical School). He listened to my BP worries, wrote me a prescription for another BP med and wished me “Good Luck!” There was no talk about my colon. I guess I found my new GP. He advertises on Facebook too. 

Throughout these weird weeks of seeing or speaking to six different physicians and being jabbed multiple times, I heard a voice inside my head. “Jeffy! You have to be your own doctor.” Yes. Those words of wisdom were from my father Sid. 




After the last office visit was done, the last blood sample taken and another medical bill paid; I loaded Sanctuary One for a nine day campout in Utah. There I luxuriated in the silence, the solitude, the beauty, the hiking, the cold beers and two books to relax and recover.

Turns out Sid Sambur was probably the best Doctor I ever had.
























Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Good News/Bad News



First the good news.

If Biden wins, there will be violence. 

The savagery will be instigated by a sociopathic, shameless, twice divorced, twice impeached, p——y grabbing electoral vote deficient lying sore loser. Imagine a combination of the January 6th, 2021 attempted coup and the riotous Black Lives Matter demonstrations with a greater loss of life and injuries. A result of severe lead poisoning from Trump’s followers brandishing AR-15 rifles and assorted firearms. The battles will be mostly one sided since Democrats aren’t exactly Dirty Harry or Rambo. (See below).

In essence, the end product will be a political pogrom. 

  • Republicans and Republican-leaning independents are more than twice as likely as Democrats and Democratic leaners to say they personally own a gun (45% vs. 20%). Source Pew Research September 2023. 
Eventually the rioting will be quelled by the National Guard and local law enforcement agencies. That is if they don’t take sides. 

OY! Jeffy! If that’s the good news! What’s the bad news?



If Trump wins there will be violent purges with longer lasting affects. These purges will make Hitler’s “Night of the Long Knives” seem like a pajama party in comparison. 

For further explanation please read: 



However if you believe purges could never happen in America, here’s a lesson from an amateur historian. (That’s me!)

Good Ol’ Honest Abe suspended the writ of habeas corpus while rounding up potential Confederate collaborators. Source: Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History 

Lincoln initially suspended habeas corpus in the volatile border state of Maryland in 1861 in order to try large numbers of civilian rioters in military courts and to prevent the movement of Confederate troops on Washington. The order was eventually extended in response to different threats. In the summer of 1862, President Lincoln had called up the state militias, leading to increased opposition to the Civil War within the Union. By General Orders No. 141, September 25, 1862, Lincoln subjected protestors to martial law and the suspension of habeas corpus.

During Woodrow Wilson’s World War I administration, the incarcerations began in earnest. (Including the imprisonment of Eugene Debs, a former presidential candidate who in 1912 garnered 6% of the popular vote). Shame on Wilson. (Then again what can you expect from a president who green-lighted the segregation of the Departments of the Treasury, Commerce, Navy and Post Office.) 

From the National Constitution Center:

 During World War I, President Woodrow Wilson pushed for new laws that criminalized core First Amendment speech.  Congress passed the Espionage Act shortly after the U.S. entered the war. The Act made it a crime to convey information intended to interfere with the war effort.  Later, the Sedition Act imposed harsh penalties for a wide range of dissenting speech, including speech abusing the U.S. government, the flag, the Constitution, and the military.  These laws were directed at socialists, pacifists, and other anti-war activists.  The Wilson Administration argued that these Acts were essential to the war effort and prosecuted thousands of anti-war activists under their various provisions.  While modern scholars view these Acts as violating core free speech protections, the Supreme Court at the time upheld these convictions.

One more example: Let’s not forget the Uber purge of American history. FDR’s inexcusable Executive Order 9066. Another War related civil rights atrocity in which 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry were forcibly removed from their homes and shipped to distant “internment camps.” About 80,000 were Japanese-Americans. These citizens were deemed possible subversives due to their last names and the shape of their eyes. In a 6-3 decision the Supreme Court went along with this racial injustice. (Komatsu vs. US).

For further reading, here’s my take from a visit to the Manzanar Japanese Internment Camp in California:


I’ve now historically established purges do and can occur in  the “Land of the Free.”

I began this post with a comparison of Trump to Hitler for a reason. Since America’s descent into the Age of Trumpism, political pundits (and me) have seen alarming similarities between the two. All the verbal and physical threats, intimidations, scapegoating, dismissals of the Rule of Law and their respective Constitutions, an admiration of fellow autocrats, and an aversion to facts mired in a deeply Nationalistic vibe. None of this bodes well for the US, since it didn’t work out too well for Germany either. As in Germany there will be many innocent victims.



In Trump’s own words: “ revenge, retribution, fight like hell, terminate the Constitution, suckers and losers, vermin, poisoning the blood of our country, enemies of the people, dictator on Day 1, American carnage“ 

 “Now, if I don’t get elected, it’s going to be a blood bath for the whole — that’s going to be the least of it. It’s going to be a blood bath for the country.” March 16, 2024. Vandalia, OH.

Not exactly “We the People” words or a return to a Woodstock Nation. Is it? 



Trump’s deplorable toadies are already on the sidelines…waiting.

Instead of Hermann Goring (influential leader of the Nazi Party) there’s Mark Meadows.

Hitler had Nazi propagandist Joesph Goebbels. Trump has Steven Cheung (former head of communications of Ultimate Fighting Championship) and Steve Bannon (former head of alt-right Breitbart News) and Stephen Miller (co-author with Bannon of the infamous 2017 inaugural speech. “This American carnage stops right here and stops right now”

Stephen Miller is another Jew who apparently slept through his US/World History classes. 




As far as muscle goes, Hitler had the Gestapo, the paramilitary SA and SS plus those unlovable teenagers in the Hitler Youth League. Trump has the Oath Keepers, the Proud Boys and the Three Percenters many of whom will be pardoned if their political False Messiah regains the White House.

If you believe checks and balances will come to the rescue. Fuhgettaboudit! The Heritage Foundation will hand Trump a list of political appointees whose main attribute is the ability to suck a watermelon through a PVC pipe. In other words, total ass kissers and sycophants with unquestioning loyalty to the Con Man in Chief.  https://www.heritage.org/conservatism/commentary/project-2025

And the purges and violence will begin.




If you still believe, “that could never happen here.” I’ll respond this way. A Nation which protects the rights of gun ownership over the rights of children to attain adulthood (Uvalde, Parkland, Aurora, Newtown) has already set a morally low bar. It’ll take more then  “sending thoughts and prayers” to fix America’s misaligned priorities. Yes, bad stuff will happen again with Trump in charge. 

In America’s history there has been 45 peaceful presidential transfers of power. (Sure Hays vs. Tilden and Bush vs. Gore were glitches, but civil decency eventually prevailed). On January 6th, 2021 this 224 year string of Democratic correctness came to a sudden and violent halt. The aberration that is Trump cannot and will not abide by the rules or laws.  Trump is spending so much time in courtrooms, he might as well purchase a Laz Y Boy recliner to fume in. 


Who knows? Maybe a disciple will organize a GoFundMe to offset the expense. 




Folks, the coming election is a simple choice. The continuation of Democracy or the descent into Dictatorship. All the other issues (the economy, the Gaza War, immigration and “wokeness”) are small lumps of tasteless tofu in comparison. 

“And by the way, I can’t believe I have to say this, but ‘Are you going to be a dictator?’ is not a normal question you should have to ask a presidential candidate. If you have to ask your babysitter, ‘Are you going to eat my kids?’, it doesn’t matter what their answer is. The fact that you needed to ask them means you should get another babysitter.” — CHARLAMAGNE THA GOD

Trump is a predatory Beast. When backed into a corner (with the possibility of jail time) he’ll become even more unhinged and  dangerous. 

Beware. The next eight months will make the election cycle of 2016 and 2020 seem like a Buddhist Yoga Retreat.

Lastly, I found a Trump quote that’s not a lie. In his own words. 

“The gravest threats to our civilization are not from abroad, but from within.” Nov. 15, 2022, Palm Beach, Fla.

Wake up! Pay Attention! Because you never know how deep a purge can go.