Truth in Advertising

Get your kicks on Old Route 66...at the Buckaroo Motel. Some motels are for sleeping and well, others are for.....you know what I mean. No billboard about down comforters, memory foam or sleep easy pillows, nope it's all about the rodeo.

I'm wondering at what point during your stay does the red light on the top of the sign go off?

After Hours Stroll

The heat wave is on in the Southwest Plains. I landed in Amarillo, Texas late today where the temperature hit 104 degrees. Some place in Oklahoma (my next destination) registered 113 degrees with more of the same predicted for tomorrow. Ah, but it's dry heat!

I've been trying to walk a bit on my road trip to keep the muscles from calcifying. 5 hours in the car day after day and you can begin to feel like the Tin Man without the oil.

With the high temperatures of late, I've been waiting until after 8:00 PM to venture out. At 8:30 this evening it was still 100 degrees in the Panhandle. But it was a dry heat!

I walked a 2 mile loop trail inside Palo Duro Canyon State Park. Known as the Grand Canyon of Texas, Palo Duro is quite beautiful and a dramatic relief from the miles and miles of flat open plains nearby. At the end of the Sunflower Trail (no sunflowers) I saw 3 birds flutter from a trail side tree and land in a tree on the opposite bank of a dried up river bed. It was too dark to see them with any clarity but I could make out the silhouette of an owl. I had come across a family of Eastern Screech Owls. We chatted for awhile with calls back and forth; what a joy.

An aside from the day. I stopped on historic Route 66 to gas up along the New Mexico/Texas border. It was midday and as hot as it was going to get. When I got out of the car to pump the gas and old man was filling up his pick up truck at the adjacent pump. We exchanged pleasantries and when I said I was thankful for the sunshine he countered with, "If the day were any better it would be a sin."

This is the positive side of poor circulation. Even at a 104 degrees and wearing a long sleeve shirt, an old man thinks there's room for a couple of more degrees to make it the perfect day. That is so long as it is dry heat, mind you.

I Found Nana's Jesus!

Growing up there was always some trepidation in visiting my grandmother, Nana in Jessup, Pennsylvania. It wasn't that we didn't love, Nana, we did. But damn her house was dark...and scary. Even her religious items would scare the heck out of you.

At the top of the stairs in her house she had a picture of Jesus as the true icon (Veronica). When you looked at the picture the eyes of Jesus were closed. When you stared longer at the picture the eyes of Jesus appeared to open! When that happened, you couldn't run down the stairs fast enough.

As a kid I didn't appreciate the mystery of the image. I kept thinking I should forgo a couple of packs of baseball cards and use the money to buy Nana a nice poster of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. You know post Resurrection, something we could all look at for hours without crying or shaking, and very colorful. But alas, Nana died. Just kidding. Not about Nana dying, she did, but about me buying a poster for her, I didn't. I could have been such a good boy!

Anyhow, after she died I tried to see if I could get Nana's Jesus, but no one knew where it went. Some even had a hard time recalling the image, but if you waited for Jesus to open his eyes just once, you weren't ever going to forget that picture.

Today I was in Chimayo, New Mexico at El Santuario de Chimaya. I was in the office of Father Rocka, age 91, asking him about his life as a priest when I noticed on the wall Nana's Jesus! It was everything I could do not to lift Jesus off the wall and hide him in my backpack. Steal him actually. Oh, how sinful...I think.

But I didn't steal him. I just took a quick photo of the image so I could send a copy around to my siblings. It isn't perfect, but it'll send my brother and sisters back about 40 years. Such fun to reminisce.

Glory be to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be forever and ever, Amen!

Noches de Verano

Live from Fred Baca Park, Taos, New Mexico it's Summer Nights 2009!

High flying kids on a swing set, a little girl learning to ride her bike without training wheels as her mom runs along side her, a man walking his dog plastic bag in hand, sweaty teenage boys playing 3-on-3 basketball and two sets of lovers playing two sets of tennis all in the basking glow of the late day sun.

There was a lot of chatter to go with the activities, none of it in English. And yet, it didn't matter as the enjoyment I got from reliving in my mind similar moments at South Park, Burlington, Vermont bridged the gap in languages. I understood everything being said, and it was pure joy.

Summer is a special time of year, a special time of life.

Ring around the rosy,

A pocketful of posies,

Ashes, ashes,

We all fall down!

When our mother calls us,

We all jump up!

Guardian Angels

Meet my new friends, Gabriel and Michael. I met the two of them at the entrance to the trail climbing la Mesa de la Piedad y de la Misericordia - Hill of Piety and Mercy. The pathway leads you through the Stations of the Cross up to the Shrine of the Stations of the Cross in San Luis, Colorado.

My canine friends accompanied me from the bottom of the hill to the top, waited for me while I went into the chapel to say a prayer (one for my family/one for the barking dogs), and then escorted me back to the bottom of the hill. Every time I stopped at a station to pray, they stopped at the station to pray.

Gabriel and Michael have to be the two holiest dogs in the world. Free roaming locals, I'm guessing they perform the Stations of the Cross a couple of times a day. When I get back to Connecticut I think I'll send Truffle out to San Luis for a retreat; I'm trying to convert everybody I know!

Obscene Gas

I wonder if these folks really thought out the name of their convenience store chain before putting up the signs? I wasn't sure if I was pulling into a gas station or a brothel. Fearing the contraction of a sexually transmitted disease, I put on a rubber glove before sticking the super unleaded hose into the gas tank.

Walking the Walk

I met a young man named David Spears this past weekend at The Cathedral of the Risen Christ in Lincoln, Nebraska. He and his brother Josh are part of a team of walkers traversing a route from San Francisco to Washington D.C. in the name of life. Volunteers in a pro-life organization named Crossroads, they are on an 11 week, 3.000 mile strolling journey of prayer and awareness. I had a chance to chat at length with David and he is a fine young man with a sense of humility and gentleness bolstered by a strong belief in the mission of Crossroads. Already a leader, you can tell that in his lifetime he'll have a great influence over many people.

Crossroads was born out of the challenge thrown down by Pope John Paul II at a World Youth Rally in Denver to become active in building a new culture of life. In 1994, Steve Sanborn, a student at Franciscan University, heard the call and created Crossroads. In 1995 he organized the first walk across America and trusted that God would take care of him and his fellow students in their effort. Today, in 2009, there are 3 separate groups canvassing the country as Crossroads continues to heed the call of the beloved JP II.

Life is winning out due to the younger generation. Voting records indicate the youth in America tend to be more pro-life despite their parents pro-abortion stance. Maybe this is a result of the youth understanding 1/3 of their peers are not here today because of the proliferation of abortion. 1/3 of a generation - hard to imagine, but the trend toward life is encouraging.

Signs of life are everywhere in the Midwest. I have seen billboards promoting the joy of life with beautiful images of babies in Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota and Nebraska. The public display for the sanctity of life is awe inspiring. God bless those who have the courage to continue to beat the drum slowly for a change in our collective hearts.

Doctor Dolittle

12 days into my road trip and the solitude is beginning to set in. Traveling without a companion sounds great to start with, but people need people if for nothing else but our sanity. If a man is talking while in a car, and nobody is around to hear him, do the words have any meaning?

Oh there are some benefits to being alone including getting to choose all the topics and understanding everything that is being said. But being right all the time has a tendency to cut my own conversations short.

"You know, there should be a law against passing on the right!"

"I agree."

"Uh, I don't understand people who pull out into the passing lane and then never pass anybody!"

"Me neither"

No disagreements, no debates, no new thoughts. It's rather boring. I do have the sound of human voices - the radio, books on tape, music Cd's and my Garmin GPS computer navigator, Lou Ann. She grows road weary.

"Re-calculating again, you dumb ass male Neanderthal. Even with a directional unit plugged in you've got to do it your own way and you won't turn around when you get it wrong. Just do the friggen U-TURN when I tell you to or drop me off after taking your next right on WASH ING TON AV ENUE...then stay RIGHT."

I do have my cell phone as well, but you hate to keep calling everybody.

"Hi, honey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is great, why do you ask?"

"Well, you just called 10 minutes ago."

"Oh, well I forgot to tell you I love you."

"No, you didn't."

"Um, then I didn't say I miss you."

"Yes, you did."

"Huh? Okay, then I'll call you later."

Last night, while at a rest stop outside of Cheyenne, WY, I found myself alone with a bunny rabbit. He just sat in the grass when I approached instead of hip hopping away. He said his name was Harvey. We had a good conversation, and it turns out he hates people who pull out into the passing lane and never pass anyone, too! Thanks for listening, Harvey.

Signing off for now, and until tomorrow, Saint Francis...pray for me.

Middle America

I drove from Des Moine, IA to Omaha, NE today by way of back roads lined with corn stalks 10,000 deep. Earlier in the week, at a Mass in Indianapolis, we prayed for abundant crops this growing season. I think the Lord is listening.

In the farm town of Oakland, IA the locals celebrated the 4th of July with a community party on the town green. I stopped in to catch a glimpse of the annual lawn mower race. I think some of the guys paid more for their tricked out John Deere than I did for my Honda Element. I know they can go from 0-60 MPH faster than I can.

Back on the combine come Monday, fellas!

More Than Just Fireworks

Quick thoughts on the 4th of July would have me reminiscing of bottle rockets and firecrackers, patriotic streamers decorating a Schwinn Tiger, whiffle ball and watermelon, a parade on Church Street, laying in the cool of the summer grass. An All-American day for an All-American boy raised in Idyllic Town, USA. Life almost is that good.

But freedom is something fought and paid for in blood in any free society including ours. Even today, our sons and daughters are defending our freedom and opening up the opportunity for free thought and the expression of ideas in other nations. Some are giving their lives for the same. We are so conditioned to war, I'm not sure as a country we appreciate the sacrifice.

On this 4th of July, I pray God will grant the parents of our soldiers peace of heart and comfort in relief of their constant worries. On this 4th of July, I pray for the well being of our sons and daughters until they safely return home. On this 4th of July, I pray that our nation's leaders recognize the gravity of one family losing a loved one and work diligently to bring all wars to a peaceful end quickly.

I worry about our young ones being sacrificed in vain.