Cut off from the world, connnected?

I am at the motel, and because I stepped into the virtual world of the internet, bloggers and Facebook - I have been connected to the past few minutes, days and hours. And my contact with all the present people that are here to meet is totally gone as I find when I return to a locked door. It is lunch time, there are other places to be - in the end much of this is a moving conversation about our lives in otherwheres and othertimes - and when a few of us step out of the moving voice and herd - and don't stay linked by cellphone nor texting.... why we have just disappeared.

Oh, I could go take care of the stuff I have to do in preparation of departing tomorrow, or start early preparation for this evenings activities which are just a dressier-up moving conversation at another location with food and beverages - skipping lunch to have room for the dinner is like stepping out of the conversation so my mind will have room for listening and speaking intently in the brief time I will have... flavor of food and drink improves with the rarity? Does the coversation and contact of limited but engaged presense make it more memoriable? Certainly, combat to the death will always be remembered long after the critical moment - so should love shared be that rare and deep that a few minutes out of the year are thirst quenching?

Read a short journal note about a soldier marching with his unit towards Gettysburg, and a Northern woman offering him a drink of milk. Having been on long marches, I know I would have written about that drink as he did. It would be that rare and still that wonderful - memoriable.

Col. David Ireland's 137th NY on the Road to Gettysburg - his bugler appreciates their reception in Frederick - "sweet milk" and "pretty girls":
James Hyde diary entry:
June 29: We started this morning very early before we got our breakfast. We marched through Frederick just after daylight. This is a very pleasant pla...ce not quite as large as Binghamton. Flags were hung out all through the village and lots of pretty girls were at the windows. Our march today was very hard as the road was full of wagons and the reserve artillery. We passed some Union families and one woman gave to the soldiers all she had to eat. I got some sweet milk. A great deal was given away in this way. We marched 20 miles.

 

From Cleutz on Facebook, this is a great time to re-enact the battle.

 

I visit the Memorial... for all the right reasons...

With time to kill I ride my Trusty Triumph to find Soldiers Field and the Veterans Memorial. My aunt made sure that her brothers were honored there, she may have encouraged others in the family to contribute to the effort - but she made it happen. Normally, I would jog to the park, up the River Walk and into the park for visiting the Memorial but I have't a home nor hotel room yet and I am still riding. I turned into the park on 9th S, and decided to ride across the bridge - about halfway I figured this is meant as a pedestrian or bicycle bridge, but I don't do U-turns on bridges and I continued into the park to find the road I should have been cruising.

Still there, very impressive, I park and go to find the named markers, Lynn E Dungey and Donald D Dungey. They haven't moved, although the engraving is deep enough, the letters haven't been darkened. That is okay, my father wouldn't want to confront anyone and disturb them. I always use the engravings on the wall to find the markers. My cousin Merl flew Chinooks in Vietnam and I jumped from perfectly good (according to the Aircrews that would talk to us) with a parachute in mass tactical formations - may all your jumps be only simulated combat.

It was comforting to sit and think about all those men honored by this Memorial. What disturbed my tranquility was the American flag flying as a streamer... it wasn't connected on the lower grommet to the lanyard, and since it was electronic, I couldn't correct it. Pictures to follow at 11. Then I walked around the whole thing, reading the Revisionist History presented. This is Minnesota, and they do have a tolerance for Political Correctness. Most of the state is working too hard for the politicians to disturb them much. But none of the facts fit the World History - exactly - as I would have taught it.

Do you ever wonder if the records of Babylon, Egypt or Rome would have had the same problem, those with political points to make - and honor - and increase their personal power, may never had any truth within them? That whole Mayan Calendar deal was likely just a curse on someone's family and their time remaining. I should take a few days and write that autobiography - so everyone will know that I really never meant to hurt anyone and I was only doing it for posterior's sake. Should have done everything for the glory of the Lord and the love everywhere.

Here I am and I will now go get some duds....

I have arrived, unexpected but by twelve they will have a room for me. So there is Walmart and a motorcycle shop to visit until... others arrive and I am prepared to join the family.

This sounds like a Facebook post.

So how tough was that ride?

I see that NFO mentioned the death of blogging - or that some bloggers aren't anymore.

I have my excuse, it is so fascinating to read Facebook.  But then I don't text either so am not typical.

I am in Albert Lea, Minnesota. That is Freeborn County, which I have always held to be a great name for a County and a people. This is where I come from, my mother used the hospital here and brought me into the world.

I do have to find some coffee, the unit in the room doesn't make it - how I figure out that I have outlived my usefulness, the machines are all smarter than I.

Rained upon me gently in the Cascades, dressed for it in Montana, took the rainsuit off and put back on in Montana (Montana is just like Texas - it is forever and you are still in Montana). Large chunks of the trip have been places so beautiful that one wishes they weren't traveling at seventy-five trying to stay upright on two wheels. But get your eyes back on the road, Earl. I like South Dakota's I-90 better than Minnesota's. Seems that the road buckles up and gives you a bump to bounce you and make you wake in Minnesota - probably a design feature. There don't seem to be as many windmills as I remember passing before here - but then that was in the dark and I was counting red blinking lights....

My trip has been really improved by my taking a little time to talk to strangers on the move, too. What we talked about gives me more hope for their future and not having network news to monitor my errant thoughts while on the Trusty Triumph has likely cleared tons of garbage from my mind. I had only two hymns to repeat over and over as I rode, I should have many more and likely do when someone else gets the music started.

Well, go get some coffee. Y'all play well while I am gone.

I am off!

See how relaxed I can be at a picnic? Goodtime had by all.

Off to church, then the highway.

So I am off to the English Ministry picnic at North Fort of JBLM...

Although my mind is on I-90 to Rochester, Minnesota - all 1782 miles worth, with a couple of detours for visiting and viewing (I was thinking scenic highway in the Badlands of South Dakota). The Google Map program tells me I should make it in 26 hours at about seventy miles per hour. With fuel and rest stops and say hellos it should take more - but not as long as a trail drive or slow ox cart nor the buffalo migration.

I am traveling light, only leathers, rain gear and snacks. Regular food stops will only be at Subway - can't wait to get to Sheridan and see if the Visitor Center will still allow me to find Facebook and my email. No I am not taking any electronics of my own - that rainstorm wiped out too much that last trip. Just my little camera in a zip lock bag.

So if you are somewhere on my route, and you want to say hello, just get on your motorcycle and catch me, if you can. Or, say something before I leave the church on Sunday. I had better cut the lawn before dark tonight. Take care and God bless all your best.

Don't I love missing all the 'new culture'...

I loved reading Donald Hamilton's Matt Helm series, and they don't write them like that anymore. So I just finished the latest Jack Reacher in my local library, while I wait for some other requests of books by long dead authors. And it was well written, kind of, it was interesting and I could see how only Jack Reacher could help the FBI in Nebraska and Iowa as he was on his way to Virginia.

But as the bodies start falling in conflict with Jack, he hasn't found one man with a knife in his pocket so he has to use a key to cut through some kind of tape holding an FBI undercover agent to a chair. WHAT? Jack doesn't have a jack knife? What kind of man is that? Then I remembered the author is from England and likely thinks all knives have to be registered. Or, even worse, there are now more people not carrying a knife with a sharp edge and a pointy point. Because TSA won't allow them to travel, because they might cut themselves or decide to stab some poor person twenty-seven times before they cut their heart and liver out to eat - like the rebels in Syria have been video taped doing. I do know, having seen inmates use them, keys can be used to cut through a lot of stuff, even as a poor weapon but better than nothing.

Well, I am trying to get better, and I bought Pacific DVD set and a DVD set about the Korean War - so since I must wait another day to get my motorcycle back from the shop, he actually said I might think about new tires, but I will see if I can make Minnesota on the ones I have - I have only 31,000 plus miles on the bike and it is the second set of tires on now.  Maybe it is time, I will keep my eye on them.

I think that America should withdraw entirely from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iraq. And continue to send women as ambassadors to all Muslim countries. But then you do understand that Earl doesn't put more money into bribing my enemies nor worrying about their feelings based on their culture or illusions of importance. And Earl will never be asked to represent America to the world.

And lastly, since Good Morning America and other news shows have continued to point out to Earl and the rest of their audiences that Kim Kar- and Paris Hil- had to release sex tapes to become important and famous. Well, I never saw the tapes, and I am not releasing any of mine. Like I would do more than those few I have done on my shooting. Time to go read one of those dead authors.