Adventure 522: The Tale of the Tape

Good morning, good bye, Challis

We traveled just under 2900 miles to rescue Frac from a life of degradation in the city of sin. While the weather was marginal, we enjoyed a fine trip. Amazingly, not two days in to the rescue, I was sleeping like a baby. Memorable events aside from good rest was the splendor of the Valley of Fire and the splash through the heavy rain in the Salt Lake Corridor. We traveled in heavy traffic through construction and dark skies from the turnoff to Park City all the way past Ogden. In my rookie years, I'd have been more nervous than a cat on hot tin roof, but now I'm dangerously overconfident in my abilities. What I've learned about pulling a travel trailer: No sudden moves; stay in my lane; anticipate; keep a steady watch on the mirrors; relax into the trust of traveling mercies. After all, it's merely an illusion that I'm in control of anything. Drats! I hate that part. We made the round trip in just under two weeks. We're refreshed, but both Judy and I are unpleasantly surprised at how stressed we feel now that we're home. Judy is behind in the garden. I've returned to fitful sleep. So it goes. Judy will dig until satisfied, and I will continue to work on Davey Boy. Life is good for us, especially today.

But it begs the question: What do we owe, and to whom? We were listening to a pod cast on the road. The theme was injustice and the program was narrated by an incredibly articulate set of African Americans. I remember most the discussion concerning tacit racism that people of my ilk persist in promoting despite our claim that we're not racist, not prejudice, and that our liberal sensibilities are offended at the suggestion. Yet, we have no friend of color. We live in sanitized areas. We live untested lives. I know I do. I live in an area where most everyone looks like me. And I have to tell you, through no fault or credit of mine, I'm one of those retired white males currently sitting in the catbird seat. The question that struck me the most was this: What are the white liberals willing to sacrifice to increase equality in this country? My short answer, not much. Some charity donations, a little community service, but nothing really that would affect my own comfortable standing. I should feel guilty, but I don't. I feel I've done much to earn my position, although I'll certainly defer to good fortune, grace, luck, or the quiji board. I take care of my own, and I enjoy life. But there is no question that people in my position are part of the problem, part of the culture, part of the conundrum. It deserves thought. If any of you who look a little like me have any suggestions, I'm all ears.

In the meantime, I'll accept the grace that comes.

 I've dedicated a personal improvement project to my late friend, Davey Boy.

 Wildly successful! Fresh water flowing.

 And now a working galley. Leaky windows next!!