March Madness Malaise.

I love basketball, although I’m pathetic at playing it. I can’t shoot, dribble or jump. I’m short too. Not that’s there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve always joked I have the attitude of a power forward in a minute non-shooting guard’s body. That all being said, I’m a great spectator. For the majority of my life I’ve  joyfully anticipated the start of the NCAA’s March Madness Tournament.

When I was a firefighter, I organized and managed the Department’s betting pool. I guess you could say I was a “Bookie.” I kept out of trouble since many of the Chiefs bet too. It was a time when rank meant nothing. All were fair game for my jibes. “Hey Guys! Chief X chose Stanford to go all the way. Those Eggheads study at halftime!” Our fun times would spill out in the off-duty hours too. We’d meet in neighborhood bars and perform a non-violent take over. These affairs were open to all acquaintances. The noise level was intense between the TV commentary, the cheering, jeering and incoming and outgoing insults. No wonder I’m deaf. 

I wasn’t just a weekend warrior of college basketball. I began dialing in when there was more night than day and more frosts than thaws. I checked box office scores, the Top 25 Polls, watched games and read analysis on who’s hot or not-so-much. College Hoops was the distraction to get me to the other side of winter. This was my All-American ticket. In fact I was a season ticket holder for both University of Colorado and Colorado State basketball. The games got me out of my house and fire stations. They created an “event” for me to look forward to.

In the NCAA season of 2019-2020, I might have been at the top of my game. I was paying a lot of attention, going so far as to print out the weekly Top 25 Polls. I was determined to win the betting pool which I’ve been associated with for twenty years. The name of the pool is “Madness which occurs in March.” The manager lives in New Jersey, I can’t remember how I got involved in it. (I think my nephew Keith hooked me up). Anyway the payout is BIGLY. In the $$$$. That can buy a lot of IPAs. 

Alas, then came Covid. The 2020 tournament was cancelled. As if death, sickness, lockdowns, isolation, lay-offs, Trump etc weren’t enough to  bum people out.

In  2020-21 the NCAA powers to be decided, damn the pandemic! The show must go on! It was all about the $$$$. No games=no revenue. The result was a ridiculous duct taped together season. On occasion there were more postponements and cancellations than live action in front of cardboard cutout fans. None of this inspired me. I lacked the energy to get involved. Thus NCAA malaise. 

Then out of the Orange of Syracuse, NY, I received a message from my old college roommate Mike J. 

“Jeff! Syracuse is playing Virginia tough. They might be going to the Big Show. Are you watching?”

I called Mike a few days later after the Syracuse Orangemen lost to Virginia.

“Mike, have you really been paying attention this season? I just can’t get excited about it.”

“Yeah, I’ve been watching a lot of Syracuse and the ACC games. Hey, it’s college basketball. There’s not much else going on.”

Then it dawned on me, I’ll place my bets in the BIGLY pool after all. With Mike’s picks!

“Mike, send me your bracket for the tournament. I’ll fence the money and you’ll get half if we win.”

“OK. No guarantee though.”

“None expected.”

Mike’s bracket arrived via a text. I looked it over. Hmmm. I’m not sure about Gonzaga going all the way. The Zags give Confession and take Communion at halftime! Let me take a closer look at the bracket. Before I knew it, I was looking at schedules, analysis and commentaries. I slight grin evolved yielding to a smile. I placed Mike’s text to the side and started my own bracket. 

Traditions are hard to break, even with Covid. This was therapeutic and part of my transition to a post-Covid world. It’s a good thing. Like the below photo of me volunteering at the library.

BTW. The Fighting Illini will go all the way. Bet on it! Mike J will still receive half of the winnings cuz that’s how this basketball rolls.

Last photo: My first outside brewpub IPA since the fall of 2020. Baby steps towards a more normal 2021.

Cheers and get your vaccinations!

Jeff

I won’t say Happy

 Covid Anniversary.

It was on March 16th, 2020 when Colorado Governor Polis ordered the state to go into lockdown mode over Covid concerns. Of course I blogged about it. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/03/we-are-in-history-making-moment-in-which.html

I began to think about Covid one month prior to that infamous date. In my quest for truthful information, I phoned the most brilliant virologist I know. (Dr. Sal is the only virologist I know!) However Dr Sal would be brilliant in whatever field he chose to study. He’s that smart.

Here’s a bit of background to this eminent scientist:

Sal received a degree in veterinary medicine from Ohio State University. He wasn’t done yet. Sal continued his education at Colorado State University where he completed a PhD in veterinary pathology. (I always wondered why he touched my nose to see if it was wet.) He caught the attention of the CDC in Atlanta which hired him to research and study HIV. He’s met and schmoozed with Doctor Fauci. (Dr. Sal referred to him as “the Pope.”) Scripps Research Institute  lured him away from the Government to help develop a vaccine to fight HIV. He now lives in San Diego with his wife Deborah. 

I met Sal on the Denver Post’s Ride the Rockies. We spent a lot of time together on our bicycles  and in the bars. He’s a class act in oh-so-many ways. I’m proud to know him.

After a bit of small talk, I got down to business. “Sal, how bad is this virus going to be?” 

Dr. Sal always speaks in a clipped, precise and straightforward manner. There’s little drama or embellishments. “Jeff, this will impact everyone. Covid will be a game changer.” 

Hmm? I misinterpreted this to mean. “I guess I’ll be washing my hands more. I better buy some sanitizer too. I’ll avoid touching my face.” I wasn’t picking up the nuances of what Sal meant.

Much later on after a month of solitary confinement lockdown, I phoned Dr. Sal again. 

“Sal! Is this what you meant when you said Covid would impact everyone? The lockdowns, the closures, cancellations, the medical misery of those afflicted and lack of toilet paper?”

“Yes Sambini. This is what I meant.”

“This sucks!”

“Indeed. It does.”

To say it’s been a difficult year would be a severe understatement. Our lives have been disrupted and shaken. My I Phone mocked me each morning by reminding me, “No Events Today.” Ouch! 

BUT! I’m seeing the dim light at the end of the tunnel grow brighter. In fourteen days and a handful of hours, (but who’s counting?) I’ll be receiving my second Moderna vaccine. In April I scored fifteen days worth of campsites in nearby National Parks. (Remember, the Parks were shuttered last spring). I also picked up a few volunteer gigs selling books for the Durango Friends of the Library. In May, I’ll be backpacking in the Grand Canyon once again. Later on, a visit to the photogenic Great Sand Dunes National Park. Then a visit to the Front Range complete with a “live” Rockies baseball game! Play Ball! 

WOW! My wall calendar has actual scribbles on it. Who knows maybe there will be brew festivals and outdoor concerts this summer too? Yes, you can say I’m making up for a lost year of activity and socializing. 

Recently, I called the esteemed Dr. Sal. He gently reminded me, we aren’t out of the Covid cave yet. More Americans will need to be vaccinated to achieve Herd Immunity. We’re not quite done with social distancing or masking up yet. But he too believed we are turning a corner.

Let’s make this happen. I miss hugs and Happy Hours.

Once again, stay safe, sane and healthy,

Jeff

Being Homeless by Choice..

then it looks.

In March 2018, I found myself in Death Valley National Park. The weather was anything but cooperative. I was stumbling through the days trying to stay warm, dry and motivated. The 66 square feet of Barley the Van’s living space was seemingly shrinking. I was weary of being stigmatized as the Single White Guy living in a White Van.  I felt isolated and very lonely. My nemesis depression was taking over the driver’s seat. A definite No Bueno moment. That was my epiphany.  Something had to change. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2017/04/the-stigma-of-single-man.html

It was then I knew it was time to come in out of the cold, settle down and rejoin society. I needed a place to call home and hearing aids too. I figured if I was going to be around people, I might as well hear what they were saying. 

Fortunately, I chose well. Both the town and the hearing aids that is. Durango has been a surprise in a good way. First off, I live in the prettiest part of Colorado. We have real mountains nearby and desert too. The Mighty Animas River runs through town with a bike trail adjacent to it. There’s 29 miles of hiking trails a long javelin fling from my home. Wayward deer wander the streets. It’s BIGLY outdoorsy. 

However, I desired more than a place to gawk at and hike in.. After running solo for most of those 6.5 Homeless by Choice years, I wanted to be a part of a community. I sought a place where I could voice my strong opinions without the need to duck a punch. The little city of Durango is an island of Blue in a Sea of Red. It’s pretty liberal and conservation minded. The citizens have a profound love of Public Lands. 

I had found my people! 

Me being me, I jumped in with both flip-flopped feet. I joined organizations and began volunteering. I attended classes, festivals and concerts.  I was making acquaintances and recognizing faces. A few bartenders had an IPA poured when they saw me saunter in. Fortunately, I hadn’t lost all of my social skills in those living in a Van down by the River years. I felt confident about finding a niche and fitting in. 

Then along came Covid, in which the virologists strongly recommended that we minimize exposure to others, keep our distances and lock ourselves down. In essence those well meaning Doctors were telling me to return to the lifestyle, I was Jonesing to escape from. This sucked. 

It’s been nearly a year since Colorado locked down on March 16th, 2020. In that circle around the sun, I’ve experienced loneliness, isolation and yes, at times depression. Then again, I’m sure I had plenty of company. Of course they were socially distanced though. 

A few days ago, I received my first shot of Moderna. I felt relief knowing I stand a better chance of not contracting or transmitting the virus. I’m a Team Player who wants this scourge to end. I’m angered by the anti-Vaxxers who refuse to get inoculated, especially the ones who espouse “my rights and liberties.” Well, I have news for you. This virus doesn’t give a hummingbird’s poop about your rights and liberties. It’s an equal opportunity pathogen. Isn’t one year of not socializing enough? Does anyone really want a repeat performance of this pandemic?

Personally I’m ready to one day give and receive hugs again without fear or a mask. Together we can make this happen. Please don’t  be an anti-vaxxhole.

Last photo: In preparation for my future reentry to society, I practiced speaking to John, Sue and Bernie on my recent trip to Death Valley National Park. I had my hearing aids in too. 

Cheers from Solitary Confinement,

Jeff

A Thinking Person’s National Park.

It was pre-Covid years ago when I was nursing an IPA at the Badwater Saloon at Stovepipe Wells situated at sea level in Death Valley National Park. I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I twirled around and looked up at a halfback-sized dapperly dressed Black man with an enormous Star of David circling below his massive neck. At his side was a petite, attractive Asian woman. 

“Mind if we join you at the bar?” he politely asked.

“Please! I’d be delighted to have company.” 

Names were exchanged and a bit of banter too. I asked him if he really was a “Member of the Tribe.” 

He replied, “No, but I have a lot of respect for Jews.”

“Thank You! Well tonight, I deem you a  “Member of the Tribe.”. Your girlfriend too.”

With that out of the way, he got down to basics. “We can see from that crazy tan of yours, you spend a lot of time here. What’s with Death Valley? It just seems like a lot of rock, sand and gravel. What are we missing?”

I smiled grandly, “It’s cerebral.” I took a long pull on my Stone IPA before I launched.

“Our feeble minds don’t take in the reality of what we are seeing. To the east are the Amargosa  Mountains. They reside well over a mile above the valley. To the west are the Panamints. Rising over two miles is 11000’ Telescope Peak. The high point of the Park is about sixteen miles away from Badwater the low point. That’s  lots of looking up. Does it register? No.” 

I took another sip. I was on a roll. “Ahh! Then there’s the sunrises and sunsets. Drinking a coffee as the Panamints light up or watching the alpenglow of the Amargosas while drinking an IPA. It’s a pallet of colors and shadows either way. At night the Milky Way will startle your senses too. Then once in awhile if you’re lucky. SCORE! A Super Bloom!”

My audience of two still looked interested. I kept going. “Right now we’re in the most populated state in the US. Trust me, there’s places you can go without seeing anyone. Maybe even for days. Death Valley is the largest park in the Lower 48. Most of it is considered wilderness. (93%). It’s a great place to wander BUT as the saying goes, Mother Nature is beautiful until she tries to kill you. The desert treats fools and the cocky equally. It’s not a place to get hurt or sick. Cell phone coverage is almost non-existent. In other words the cavalry ain’t coming to save you. It’s no place to pull an Aron Ralston or an Everett Ruess.”

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/03/i-think-about-everett-ruess.html

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/08/at-least-i-didnt-have-to-cut-off.html

“Then there’s the human history of mining. For about 140 years  Diggers were looking for that elusive pot of gold. For every Keane Wonder Mine there were multiple not so lucky Chloride City Mining Districts. Most of the prospectors hard efforts went bust. It wasn’t just gold they sought, there’s copper, talc, borax, antimony and silver in those mountains, valleys and canyons. Its estimated the Park has 17000 mining remnants within its vast boundary. Many of my hikes take me along those routes and trails the old miners made. You never know what you might find here. BUT! Don’t venture into abandoned mines. They aren’t safe AND remember California is famous for earthquakes too. Who would want to write a sequel to “The 33: Deep Down Dark.”? 

I took another sip. They weren’t yawning yet. “I’ve been coming to DVNP for decades. It’s one of my Happy Places.  On a sunny windless day in February or March, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I’m in a state of smiles on those days.” I drained the last of my IPA. Then I quoted the philosopher Forrest Gump,  “And that’s all I’m going to say about that.” 

Good news. My company was smiling too. “We can see you are passionate about Death Valley. When we drive around tomorrow, we’ll look at the scenery through your eyes and ideas. Can we buy you a beer for the cerebral lesson?”

How could I say “No”?

Hoping you find your Happy Place in our time of Covid.

Cheers, 

Jeff

Extra reading: On March 2nd I had my first Moderna Vaccine shot. I’m happy to say, all my parts and appendages are still attached and working. Other than some joint soreness, I’m fine and looking forward to the second vaccine. Get your vaccines ASAP. Please. It’s time to place this virus into Solitary Confinement. 

Going Feral Again.

 When folks ask me what it was like to be Homeless by Choice for 6.5 years, I’ll respond “at times it was a feral lifestyle.” If the questionnaire desires more information,  I’’ll give them the down and dirty. 

Going feral is when a shovel creates an instant outhouse. It’s when a gallon of tepid water gurgling from a Solar Shower provides personal hygiene. It’s when the definition of clean clothes are the garments with the least stench. Food options can be Macs and Cheese, or a can of soup or a refried bean burrito. It’s far from glamping or being a Foodie. 

Going feral means being outside the mainstream. Your contact with other Homo Sapiens is at below sea level standards. It’s a lifestyle not for the gregarious or the squeamish. It’s ultimate social distancing. Its my way of dealing with a deadly pathogen. 

To be honest, (remember this is the most honest blog in the world) going feral is not too challenging  for me. When the weather is gentle and cooperates it’s no problemo. I like being “out there.” 

In this winter of Covid discontent, I had two options. 

A) Safely sequester myself in my cozy Durango townhome where I could anxiously wait for my vaccine lottery ticket to be drawn. 

OR

B) Road trip with Sanctuary II (my new truck and camper) to Death Valley National Park. Patience is not a virtue of mine. But then again citizens wouldn’t want a patient firefighter either. “Don’t worry folks, we’ll extinguish your house fire once “Jeopardy” is over.” 

There really weren’t  any options.

I provisioned up with the idea of playing “Keep Away” from winter and Covid for a month. I stocked my camper with two Jeffy requirements. Coffee and IPAs. Oh yeah, food too. Eventually I’d run out of fresh fruits and vegetables. When that time came, I’d double down on my vitamins to stave off scurvy. It’s all fun and games until your teeth fall out. 

Death Valley NP is far, far away from real towns. The closest being PaTrump (SPIT!)  NV. This high desert city’s motto says it all. “More Gun Shops, than Grocery Stores!” It’s a place best to avoid. BUT if you do have to get stuff, run in, run out at the crack of opening times. On those days, I’d drink an extra cup of coffee to ramp up my shopping to “Warp Drive.” If you’d blink you’d miss me, which Is fine by me in PaTrump. That means no one has time to take aim at me.

Postscript: I managed to avoid a trip to the sh-thole of PaTrump (Spit!) NV. I scavenged off the land. Hostess Wheat Bread, eggs and raspberry preserves from the “Family Dollar” Store in Beatty, NV and overpriced tomatoes, apples, oranges, potatoes, onions and salsa from the Furnace Creek General Store. 

My dinners were reminiscent of the Old Time miners except I discarded the cans in an appropriate manner. I never came close to running out of IPAs and coffee. My priorities are spot on.

From the land of rock, gravel and sand all blended into one beautiful National Park. (A perfect place for a minimalist like me.)

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Jeff

Postscript II: En route back to Durango. Old Buddy Paul L did what I couldn’t do from DVNP. He went online and scored two Covid shots for me. I shoot up on Tuesday! I sound like a junkie but I don’t care. Be part of the solution instead of the problem. Get your vaccines ASAP. Please. 

Remember no one will ever say, “That Pandemic, now those were the days!”

What would Buddha do?

In May 2019, I strolled around the community of townhomes I would soon be residing in. I was on a mission to pick up the vibe of Parkview Terrace. 

You can tell a lot about a neighborhood by its vehicle’s bumper stickers. In the parking lots, I noticed “Bernie 2016”, “San Juan Mountain Association”, “May the Forest Be With You”, “I’d Rather be Hiking” and “Ska Brewery” rear end adornments. There wasn’t one “NRA” sticker.

Nice! 

Since all the townhomes look nearly identical, the ability to decorate is limited by the occupant’s imagination. What I saw was promising though: Tibetan Prayer Flags, heavy metal sculptures, strings of colorful lights and Happy Hour lounge chairs. But what really caught my attention was a pair of Buddhas. The Enlightened Ones were hanging out on pedestals on opposite sides of a garage door. They were sporting just had a Double IPA grins. 

Well, if a neighborhood is cool with Buddhas surely it would be OK for a Liberal minded former Wandering Wondering Jew to move in. My intuition turned out to be correct. I chose well. My neighbors are kind people.

Recently I escaped Durango’s season of cold and snow. I was in Snobsdale, AZ, when a string of text messages lit up my phone. They were from my neighborhood’s message board. The catalyst was from Marcia. It read, “Hey guys, someone took an Amazon package from my door last night AND one of my Buddhas. That's just bad karma for whoever did that. Any one else have something taken?” 

The text chain came fast and sometimes furious. An “All Points Buddhas Bulletin” went out. Neighbors began searching in snowbanks and the surrounding neighborhood for the missing Siddhartha. I suggested putting the local hounds on the scent of Buddha. But the pooches (a Chihuahua , a Corgi, a friendly Mutt and an Australian Shepherd) weren’t up to the task. Buddha had been fleeced for good. All my neighbors (and me) were virtually bummed. 

Later that day while I was on my daily Snobsdale hike, I thought about what transpired 430 miles away. The little I knew about Buddhism was based upon Tibet and the Dalia Lama. A few months ago I read “Eat the Buddha” which was a sad account of China’s tyrannical abuse of the Tibetan Buddhists. The 14th Dalia Lama is their spiritual leader.  I’ve seen him on TV.  He giggles a lot! When  Mr. DL wasn’t chuckling he seemed to be a Human who preached peace and good will toward all. I liked that.

So with this in mind, I pondered. What would Buddha do? Why he’d click on Amazon and purchase a replacement of himself to gift to Marcia. THAT’S what Buddha would do. Well, he’s long gone, so I was his stand in. After the deed was done, I texted this to the neighbors and mutual friends.

Hi neighbors,

From Snobsdale, I read about Marcia’s purloined Buddha. I went online and bought her this replacement. If you care to toss in a few bucks, that would be nice if not you are still invited to sign the card. As we all know Covid sucks. I thought a bit of neighborly goodness would be appreciated by Marcia.

Thx in advance,

Jeff the Cold Weenie

The response was extremely generous. Not only did we cover the price of Buddha, there was enough left over for a healthy donation to the Durango Food Bank. A win-win situation for all. 

I’m no expert, but I’d say that’s Good Karma.

Last photo: Here’s Marcia’s Facebook post upon receiving Buddha. After reading this, I too was sporting a Double IPA grin. It’s fun making mitzvahs. 

Cheers,

Jeff

For the Love of Learning.

I remember the moment when I decided to attain more knowledge.

It was in 2009 during my San Diego to Maine bicycle tour. (Have I ever mentioned I wrote an award winning book about that journey?) Anyway, I was in the midst of an enthusiastic Happy Hour with old friends, Jean and Big Al. We were at the Great Dane brewpub in Madison, WI. I made mention that my route would take me through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.Then I asked two pertinent questions. “Why is the UP part of Michigan when it’s clearly attached to Wisconsin? Were you Cheeseheads eating bratwurst and drinking Miller Lites when they moved the state boundary?” Big Al looked at me and simply stated, “The Toledo War of 1835.” To this I had an intelligent response, “Huh?” 

Big Al who looks and acts like a college professor began the history lesson. “The state of Ohio and the territory of Michigan laid claims to Toledo. Both wanted its western port on Lake Erie. There wasn’t much of a war between the militias. More bluster than bloodshed. Finally the Feds stepped in to settle the matter. The Michigan Territory relinquished its claims to Toledo in exchange for the Upper Peninsula. Wisconsin wasn’t even a territory until 1836. That’s why the UP is part of Michigan.” 

I sat back, took a sip of IPA and reacted accordingly. “OK...” What I was really thinking was this. “ Damn! I want to be smart like Big Al. I want to learn more stuff!” Reading was the answer. Al was a librarian and research wiz at the University of Wisconsin. He knows a lot more than the Dewey Decimal System.

Luckily I’ve always been a reader. For twenty years I lived across the street from the Fort Collins Library. There I was on a first name basis with the librarians. Lack of reading wasn’t my problem, absorbing and storing information was. I streamlined my goals. No need to bother with subjects I had no interest in. IE: mechanics, theoretical sciences and technology. I’d call them what they are to me, Magic, and leave it at that. I’d concentrate on non-fiction topics I had an affinity towards: US/World history, geography, travel, sports and true stories of survival and exploration. 

“I’m BUSY. I don’t have time to read!” Is the usual answer I get when I ask folks what they’ve read lately. I had plenty of time to read when I was living in a Van down by the river for 6.5 years. 

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

When I gave up the Wandering Wondering full time lifestyle in August 2019, I still found time to read. That is when I wasn’t volunteering, going to movies, concerts, classes, sports events, camping, hiking and brewpub happy hours. Since Covid, most of those fun sociable events haven’t happened in nearly a year. I miss them. With all that additional time, I’m back in solitary confinement and reading at a 3 books/10 day pace. As usual I’m looking for answers to America’s and the World’s ongoing problems. The books were informative yet distressing. It wasn’t light reading.

For example:

Reads pertaining to the recent 45 Administration:

Strongmen

Demagogue 

The Soul of America the Battle for our Better Angels

14 Mile: Building the Border Wall

The Fifth Risk

Spying on the South

On the experiences of Black Americans:

Caste: the origins of our discontent 

The Warmth of Other Suns

Rising Tide

Olympic Pride, American Prejudice

Life of a Klansman

Overground Railroad

Ali: a Life

The Pandemic of 1918-1919:

The Great Influenza

The plight of so called “Illegal Aliens.”:

Undocumented Americans 

American Greed and income inequality; 

Wilderness Billionaires

Nickel and Dimed

On America’s impact on other countries:

The Imperial Cruise

How to Hide an Empire

The Nine Lives of Pakistan

The Quiet Americans 

On Redemption: 

Rising Above the Hatred

Unfollow

The Broken Road

There’s lots of hard core knowledge in the above book list. The information isn’t always pretty and at times upsettimg. It’s far removed from Alternative Facts and Fake News. By looking at our past, maybe we can strive for a better future. “History doesn’t repeat itself; People do.”

On a lighter note: Now I’m looking forward to the post-Covid day when I can participate in another enthusiastic Happy Hour. I’d rather entertain my fellow revelers with anecdotes about the Antarctic explorer Ernest Shackleton or the most litigated river in the world, AKA the Colorado. AND if anyone wonders out loud, “Why is the UP part of Michigan and not Wisconsin?” I now have the answer. 

Thanks Big Al for motivating me to take learning more seriously.

Cheers! (It’s not a crime to be an Egghead! Yet!) 

Jeff

Last photo: Here’s that Gold Medal Award winning book. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Find it on Amazon.