I’m not mechanically inclined...

The rare times I check under my vehicle’s hoods, all I see are incomprehensible gizmos, gadgets and doohickeys. Well that’s not 100% correct. I can point out the engine and the battery. Oh yeah, and the window washer reservoir too. That’s about it. The rest I chalk up to mechanized magic.

It’s not that I’m stupid or lazy, I’ve never been interested in learning the ins and outs of carburetors, fuel pumps and alternators. I don’t even know the difference between volts, watts and amperes. It’s not a concern of mine. BUT I can tell you Mexico abolished slavery in 1824, the Antiquities Act (granting presidents the right to set aside National Monuments) occurred in 1906, that the National Park Service was established in 1916 and LBJ signed the Wilderness Act into law in 1964.

Great info for trivia contests, but not helpful when things break down. 

Somehow, I’ve survived.

So...recently on a shake down camp out with my new toy, I was forced into dealing with mechanical issues. 

A) I changed a flat tire for the first time since Reagan was President. It only took me two hours.  (The Penske Racing pit crew hasn’t called to offer me a job). Actually I was pretty proud of myself since I wasn’t crushed under the axle while yanking the tire off. AND! All my fingers are still attached.

After patting myself on the back, I shouldered my backpack for a bit of exploring in La Plata Canyon. 

B) Upon my return to my new home, I spotted a marmot peeking out from beneath the front wheel well. Now I know engines are rated by horsepower, there’s no mention of marmot power. Of course, I yelled at it. “Hey! Get outta there!” Apparently it didn’t understand Bronx accented English. The BIGLY rodent retreated into the hinterland of the Toyota’s engine compartment. I discovered how to unlatch the hood and peered inside. Yes, there was a chubby fur ball wedged between a few thingamajigs. I found a stick and poked it with the dull end. It didn’t budge. I prodded it again while yelling, “Come on! Move!” That time it fell out of the compartment and waddled away. I figured I better check to see if there was any damage. I cranked the key and “Whew!” the truck started. Oh what a feeling! Toyota!

The rest of the camp out was somewhat uneventful. 

But what is eventful is the quiet, peace and beauty of La Plata Canyon. I live 15 minutes away from where the La Plata River crosses Highway 160. We are practically neighbors.

Last photo: That’s me in my palatial dining room. 

Stay safe, sane and healthy. 

Jeff

Memories of Mother’s Day...

I get a bit verklempt (Yiddish for overcome with emotion) on Mom’s Day. Clara Sambur passed 48 years ago, but for me it still seems like an eye blink ago. My memories of her are vivid and unforgettable. Yes. I still miss her.

Another crystal clear Mother’s Day recollection was attending Colorado Rockies baseball games with Joe Scanlan. Stage 4 Cancer seized Joe in the spring of  2019. Now I’m left with fond memories of the many games we caught on those special second Sundays in May. A great baseball/friendship tradition lost forever.

I knew Joe for over three decades. I can honestly say there was never an unkind word spoken between us. Plus! There was all that laughter. I’d feed him lines and away he’d go. Joe could have been a top notch stand up comedian. A Rodney Dangerfield II. 

 Sure, I miss him.

In June 2019, the Scanlan family hosted a memorial for Joe in Denver’s Washington Park. Heres the tribute I wrote about Joe.

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/06/parting-is-nothing-but.html

From that sad day, the idea of a fundraiser was born. Somehow something positive would come out of losing Joe. With the BIGLY help of Joe’s niece Nikki an American Cancer Society memorial donation website was created. The event was centered around a Sunday Rockies game. Well, Covid-19 screwed that up like everything else. Now we are left with just the donation part, in which thus far, the response has been anemic. (A sincere Thank You to those 43 generous donors). 

Through the years,  I’ve been involved in many fundraisers. The best analogy I can come up with is this. Fundraising is similar to ingesting  a vile tasting medicine in which one hopes for a good outcome. No one enjoys asking people for money, but it feels satisfying to see the Bucks rolling in for a a good cause, (Like the American Cancer Society. If you are reading this, you or someone you know has dealt with cancer). 

On a personal note: Since I understand the ugliness of fundraising, I have great empathy toward those who are brave/stupid enough to put themselves through this grief. So upon receiving an email or a Facebook plea, this is what happens.

.

Oh look! John or Jane Doe are seeking greenbacks for a worthy cause. I’ll donate some dinero and score a monetary mitzvah. Maybe some Good Karma even. There! That didn’t take long. Now I’ll go back to drinking my IPA. I hope John and Jane Doe achieve their goals. 

This is what I’m proposing. If you could find it within yourself to toss anything (For emphasis: ANYTHING) toward the Joe Scanlan Memorial 

https://www.joescanlanmemorial.com/

I’ll donate to your passion as well. BUT! There are limits. I won’t  drop moola in the laps of politicians or religious organizations. Pretty much anything else works for me. I’ll even donate to Save the Monarch Butterflies. 

RIP Mom and Joe. The world needs more people like you. 

Any donation would be greatly appreciated. 

Let’s make dough for Joe! 

Durango, Colorado: Small city of

Big Mitzvahs.

Jeffy! Please explain what a mitzvah is? Can I eat or drink it? Is it a cure for Covid-19? Is it an animal, mineral or vegetable? 

Nope. None of the above. A mitzvah is “an individual act of human kindness.” (From Wikipedia).

It’s a good deed. 

Since moving here I’ve been on the receiving end of more than a few “random acts of kindness.” Here’s some examples: 

A) While mountain biking in August I broke my rib and lost my I Phone at the same time. A Good Samaritan returned the phone to me via a drop off point. When I offered a reward for his honesty, his answer?  “That isn’t necessary. Just pay it forward.” 

Awesome! (BTW. My rib remained broken)

B) in November, I ventured into my favorite brewpub when I turned 65. I mentioned to the always friendly bartender, it was my birthday. Upon hearing that, she poured me a Double IPA (gratis), lied and told me I looked a lot younger than 65 and best of all came around the bar to give me a hug! (Body contact was allowable in 2019.) 

C) When I was running dangerously low on IPAs. I drove to the local liquor store to purchase more. After choosing two cases of the “Nectar of the Gods” I went to pay. I told the easy going cashier,  “I’ll drop this case off in my car and come back for the second one.” I shlepped the case outside, placed it lovingly in my vehicle and turned to get the other 24. Wouldn’t you know it, that nice young man had followed me out with the second case. 

I was shocked. “Thanks! This would never happen on the Front Range of Colorado.” 

His reply? “No problem. This is how we do things here. Welcome to Durango.”

All fine gestures of goodness. Right?

However the above are all minor mitzvahs compared to the kindheartedness I recently witnessed in the Parkside Terrace neighborhood.

Let’s face it, Covid-19 has disrupted all our lives. Innocent outings and events we once took for granted have gone away after the first Covid cough and fever. We miss the normalcy of eating in a restaurant, going to a movie and for some, the tradition of a college graduation.  

At Parkside Terrace, one of our neighbors is Emma, a shy, soft spoken, soccer playing 2020 Fort Lewis College graduate. For her, there would be no official college finish line. 

No graduation ceremony for Emma? No way! Fellow neighbors Molly and Tanya (both FLC Alumni) flew into action. Molly created this invitation for all. But that was just the beginning. 

On Graduation Day, Emma was coaxed out of her home by Tanya. On went Emma’s cap and gown. Out came a few tears. To the strains of piped in “Pomp and Circumstance” Emma did a skateboard lap around the townhomes. She was closely followed by an admiring crowd.

After her Graduation March the convocation began. Emma received a prerecorded inspiring personalized commencement speech. Then Molly gave an Atta-Girl talk to Emma. It was Emma’s special day so she got the last word in. Emma told the audience about her hopes and dreams. She concluded with a sincere “Thank You!”

Then the party began! Custom made FLC hats with tassels were tossed into the air. Fireworks were lit. Molly’s husband, Ethan brought out multiple trays of appetizers. Bottles of booze and hand sanitizers mysteriously appeared on the tables. Beer cans were popped open.Upbeat music and laughter were heard. 

It was wonderful.

All because two Saints displayed empathy towards a woman half their age. 

That’s a mitzvah!

Last photo: There’s an abundance of Do-Gooders in Durango. This was my attempt to hold their wheels.

When presented with a choice. Choose being kind.