Friday, February 29, 2008

Hall Monitors

INTIMIDATING
Not intimidating


I have a theory. Back in the fourth grade a certain number of us were appointed HALL MONITORS. In my school the designated HALL MONITOR was given a badge of some sort that was worn around the neck and you got to stand in the hall and warn other students not to run, push or go over the line dividing the two-way traffic in the corridors. If a student persisted in such subversive behavior the HALL MONITOR could write down the perp's name and leave it at the OFFICE. This was POWER! This was for many, the first taste in INTIMIDATION. For some it tripped the Little Nazi Switch and it has never turned off. These little HALL MONITORS went on to become adults who generally became Liberals. They still need to feel some patronizing control over others. They need to make up rules if none exist to control someone else's behavior. The monster that was unleashed the first time they turned in a name to the principal grew over the years into an entitlement mentality--entitled to enforce pettiness.


Since moving to a senior retirement community a few months ago I am astonished at the number of little nazis running around, harassing others for infractions of the most trivial rules one can imagine. Well--HALL MONITORS can imagine. Let me begin what promises to be a drawn-out saga in this little HOA community.

Does this look like a setting for the growing of fascists? This is the view from my kitchen window. We have gardeners. They are all Mexican. They all only speak Spanish. Remembering my experiences in Bakersfield I got to wondering if they are legal workers in this country or just some undocumented men picked up down at the local Home Depot.

So--I called the Landscape business--the truck was in front of my kitchen window with the phone number blazoned across it--and got the owner. He was quite nice and I asked him if the workers around my home were legally here. He said that of course all his workers were legal and wouldn't be on his payroll if they weren't. This seemed satisfactory to me and that was the end of the conversation.

Imagine my surprise when today in the mail I got a letter from some woman who signed a very intimidating HALL MONITOR mentality letter criticizing me for asking my question! She enclosed a copy of some article from some newspaper in Texas that spoke of lawsuits for millions of dollars against employers who had tried to ban employees from speaking Spanish at the workplace. The parts about being sued were in yellow highlight! The tone was highly patronizing and slightly menacing.

How did this woman know that I called the head gardener? More of this story will unfold. She has not returned my 2 phone calls of today. But I'll just sum up by saying this letter tried to infringe on my first amendment right of free speech, infringe on my right of free association, accused me of trying to talk to the workers--I didn't--hey! they don't speak English!--but would that have been illegal anyway? My conversation with the landscape contractor was referred to as "invasive research" yet I was told the gardeners were hired because of their "superiority in the field." I wonder if they had to do "invasive research" to discover how splendid these gardeners are?

This letter ran to two pages! Carbon copies were sent to the landscape company as well as to some ATTORNEY AT LAW. Wow--I am shaking in my boots! I am also asked to "cooperate" and not harass any work crews. VE VILL EXPECT YOUR KOOPERATION!!

Now how can a reasonable person not be astonished at someone taking the time to type out a two page harangue over nothing? I recognize the tactic--it is the tactics of nazis and other fascists. I will keep you posted. I will keep the world posted! And you, my faithful readers, I will never forget you even though I be sent to some far gulag for my seditious question.










Friday, February 22, 2008

Desert Rat

Back on the Mojave--back where the soul can breathe. The RV got the needed repairs done in Petaluma and then had to be driven back through the East Bay down to the monastery. Driving a 31' Winnebago through some of the worst traffic California has to offer is a foretaste of the hot place. This time I drove the Jeep and blocked for Mr. T. who drove the Minnie. It took us 10 hours to navigate back to the familiar waters--er, sands--of the Mojave. It was great to be back with the monks, see old desert friends and get in a few trips out to the Kelso/Marl Springs/Arrowweed Spring plus a return trip to the Cedar Salt Springs outside of Baker.




The biggest surprise was to finally get to visit the renovated Kelso Union Pacific train station. Although Kelso once had a population of 3000, it is now just a few remaining buildings. The beautiful Mission-style train station has been saved from oblivion and now houses the BLM that used to be in Baker.



The trains still go through Kelso although there are no more passengers--just railroad workers. The freight trains are long and there have been as many as four at a time on the tracks. It is hard not to be aware of all the ghostly shadows that are so present everywhere in the desert. But I think the presence of the past is particularly tangible around trains.














Only on the desert can you buy stuffed toy scorpions and snakes! Only on the desert can a best-selling book be called "Desert Holes." The Kelso train station has a great gift shop, restored lunch counter, beautiful wooden staircase and exhibits of the area's history.

We took the Jeep out on the Mojave Road and found some interesting impromptu popular art--"art" the BLM frowns on and acts the bully to dismantle when they find it. Amazingly, we ran into THREE Jeep Wranglers and everyone in them was lost! People who drive Jeeps don't get lost! Fortunately Mr. T. has every map ever put out on the area and we also have the Navigation System so we were able to get the lost explorers back on the right trail. The comment I most remember is one of the men exclaiming, "Oh! THAT corral!!" You mean there are two corrals out there?
We were excited to find water at Marl Springs and the silent fences and pens of a long-abandoned corral and shute. Water in the desert is always a surprise. On this trip we were surprised twice: Arrowweed also had about a quarter-mile running stream. As we headed back to HRM for Vespers we were treated to a spectacular sunset that had cars pulling off the road just to bask in the colors. It reminded me of Heidi when she was told that sunsets were the sun's way of saying "good night" to the earth so we wouldn't forget before dawn would come.