Category: Family

Thoughts and Words, Chickens and Eggs

Posted on by Pete Schloss

June 18, 2022. Internet has been a real challenge thus far. I write and upload when I am able, but not enough to satisfy the urge.

The last two nights we camped on Wellesley Island, in the Thousand Island region of New York, looking out onto Canada across the St. Lawrence River.

There must literally be a thousand islands, and any large enough to fit a house…

We have been told that in order to be considered an island there must be at least one tree, and through the course of a year the island must remain above water. In the absence of those two qualifiers it is deemed a shoal.

Hot and muggy transitioned into falling temperatures and rain, but not before I enjoyed a solitary 5 mile hike along the coast.

At one point Canada was literally a stone’s throw away.

At another I encountered a few glacial “pot holes”.

These curious features are circular impressions “drilled” into solid rock. Over thousands of years rushing meltwaters occasionally cause stones and debris to whirlpool over a single location, gradually eroding a downward tube into the rock. One of the pot holes I saw was 3 feet across and reported to be over 15 feet deep. It was full of water, leaves, and dead stuff. Out of concern for the safety of hikers its opening was covered in protective metal screening,

This morning we awoke to temps falling from the 50’s into the 40’s. A bone chilling drizzle persisted throughout the day.

We are camped for the next 3 nights at Buck Pond, a wonderfully primitive campground located in the northern reaches of New York’s expansive Adirondack Park. Temps have continued to fall into the 30’s and threaten to freeze water overnight. A campfire is not so much a want as it is a need.

Nevertheless, the absence of biting insects, the skyscraper pines and the endless carpet of soft pine needles is salve for the soul and senses. We are content.

Tomorrow is a milestone. 45 years ago we each said “I do!”. Among other things we promised to love, honor, and respect each other. We have kept those promises as humans do, imperfectly. What matters most is that we continue working to perfect our efforts at marriage. We will seek an appropriate dining venue about 20 miles away in Lake Placid, famously host of the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympics, for our celebration of life well lived together, and Father’s Day.

On the road today we trolled radio stations, seeking the right station for our mood. In the process we briefly paused on a talk-radio channel that caught our attention. The male “shock-jock” was waxing inelegantly about the “virtues” of womanhood. To us he was deeply offensive. I will only share the least inappropriate “joke” that he recited: “What does one shout if a man on a ship falls overboard… MAN OVERBOARD! What does one shout if a woman falls overboard… FULL SPEED AHEAD!!”

It takes some intelligence to host a radio talk show. I wondered, did he really believe what he was saying, or was the station’s business model requiring that he play to the perceived audience of Neanderthals? I doubt that he could have gotten away with such off-color “jokes” aimed at Jews, people of color, veterans or Christians. Certainly not guns, pickup trucks or hunting dogs. Why are women as a group acceptable targets of such insult?

I once read that it is difficult to hold on to dark negative thoughts if one expends their best effort to maintain an honest smile. Just as the face reflects ones mood, there is some indication that facial expressions can actually influence ones mood.

If the “shock-jock” believed that what he said was funny then did he come to the belief because he was required by his job to say the words, or did he say those words because they reflect his personal beliefs? Did thought induce the words or did the words induce the thoughts. It’s like that old saw, “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” Corrupting that phrase in the context of the radio DJ, “What came first the chicken shitting or the chicken’s shit?”

Just as I believe that journey is more important than destination, I hold that questions are often more important than answers. Questions generate contemplation, answers typically end it.

Peace Everyone. Pete

Geneva on the Lake

Posted on by Pete Schloss

We arrived on the south shore of Lake Erie at Ohio’s Geneva State Park on June 12th. Registered for two nights we are finally transitioning into “real“ camping. However, not completely.

A two mile walk from the park leads to the town of Geneva on the Lake, a resort community that dates back to the mid-19th century.

The charm of that era has been replaced by a strip of arcades, ice cream shops, bars, and all things that attract families with children, motorcyclists, classic car aficionados, and old campers like us.

We have enjoyed our campsite and campfire but we have not yet broken out the camp stove. We were intrigued to read of a restaurant in Geneva On the Lake, the GOTL Brewery, which serves its entrées atop an 850° lava rock.

You are responsible for the temperature of your protein which you then cook at the table. Christine’s steak and my Ahi tuna were exceptional, as was the beer. About 10 minutes into dinner Christine exclaimed, “We’ve been here before!“ A short discussion comparing the eerie familiarity we both sensed, confirmed her observation. Apparently, there is a downside to the amount of camping we have done over the last seven years… we are beginning to forget where we have been!

For us the principal entertainment boiled down to walking the strip, taking in the sights, and finally enjoying sunset at the beach.

We have also enjoyed a nice 6 mile hike that revealed a “fairy village“ laid out neatly at the foot of a large tree in the woods.

Next we head up the shore of Lake Erie, through Buffalo, and onto the south shore of Lake Ontario in the state of New York.

Peace everyone! Pete

PS. As I was seated at a picnic table near the park office, taking advantage of their WiFi to type these notes, a bicyclist rode up and addressed me. His was a heavily laden touring bike, and his first words betrayed a foreign accent. “Sig” was from Sweden. He was spending his 5 week holiday bicycling the south coast of Lake Erie, bound for Niagara Falls. He sought some guidance on securing a campsite.

As the result of our discussion, “Sig” obtained a site for the night and later joined us at our campfire. A few beers and hours of pleasant conversation are proof that it takes only kindness to shrink the world one smile at a time.

April in New York City

Posted on by Pete Schloss

We are on the road again bound for northeast Canada’s Labrador and Newfoundland. Our first day was not without issues. A few days ago I had replaced the trailer tires, but as we approached St. Louis I discovered an unusual bulge in the sidewall of one of the new tires. A 20 mile detour delivered us to a Discount Tire Store.

They had the tire in stock and within 45 minutes had us back on the road after swapping the defective tire at no cost to us. Near Terre Haute Indiana we encountered a torrential downpour that made for some real “white knuckle” driving. At 500 miles from Kansas City we stopped at a Texas Roadhouse restaurant which provided a meal, a beer, and a parking lot where we “camped” for the night.

Since we are now just making miles this is a good opportunity for me to step back into April and share five wonderful days that we spent visiting New York City.

These last three years have left us feeling travel starved. Christine had accumulated some free companion airline tickets and spring in New York City beckoned to us.

We booked a hotel in New York City’s Times Square, and purchased tickets for the Broadway production of “Macbeth“, featuring Daniel Craig of 007 fame.

Times Square may at first overwhelm with its crush of humanity, endless traffic, cacophony of sounds, and kaleidoscope of light.

A beer, and perhaps a hot dog, can do much to normalize the experience.

Once acclimated a visitor can begin to more fully appreciate the human diversity.

I suppose to these folks, we represent “odd”. It’s a symbiotic relationship in which they provide color and entertainment for the visitors, and the visitors provide income in the form of tips given for a photo opportunity.

There’s a lot to see in New York City’s Manhattan Island. A “hop on – hop off” bus tour is a convenient way to take in much in just a few days.

It’s not perfect. Pop-up spring showers are known to occur with frequency.

What is a visit to New York city without a panoramic view taken from the top of the Empire State building?

This remarkable 1,454 foot skyscraper is a monument to the ingenuity of early 20th century America. It long stood as the tallest building in the world, but has since been eclipsed by 53 other buildings, 6 being in New York City. What may never be equaled is the rapidity with which it was built. Ground-breaking to opening took only 13 1/2 months!

New York City’s skyline is breathtaking as viewed from atop this wonder.

We have reserved a visit to One World Trade Center, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and a few other sites for another time, perhaps next year.

Highlights of this visit included:

St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

Saint Sharbel is a patron Saint of Lebanon, homeland of my maternal grandparents. I lit a candle to their memory.

The New York Public Library.

Bryant Park.

Grand Central Station.

We found Central Park so compelling that we visited it in on two separate days. The first visit was courtesy of a pedal cab tour. Our guide, Chouib, was knowledgeable and very entertaining.

At the urging of Colorado friends we contacted him and made an appointment. The tour of nearly 2 hours exceeded all expectations. If you wish his contact information please reach out to me privately.

There are literally thousands of benches in Central Park. Each bench can be rented for $500 a year during which your personally selected message is affixed to the bench. This one caught my eye.

Is this building familiar? Who you gonna call?… Ghostbusters!

Our second visit included a delightful lunch at Tavern on the Green.

There were two other exceptional meal experiences. The first of these occurred when Kansas City neighbors sent a message asking, “Are you in New York City?… So are we!“. This resulted in dinner together at Carmines Italian restaurant. It is indeed a small world.

The second dining experience came on the heels of an expensive disappointment. Dinner at Gallagher’s steakhouse was an elegant 2+ hour affair.

The disappointment: At a cost of nearly $600 we had purchased tickets to see Daniel Craig in the Broadway production of “Macbeth“.

There was virtually no scenery, “costumes” we’re mostly 20th Century street clothes, and actors frequently stepped out of their roles to execute “special effects“, such as holding flashlights on the faces of the other actors, and walking around the stage with a handheld smoke machine. Macbeth‘s “royal robe” was a common bathrobe, and his “armor” was a bulletproof vest. Of course, performance pictures were not allowed. However, this shot of the stage is what constituted “scenery”.

The critics (rightfully so) gave terrible reviews.

We had no intention of returning to Kansas City with any souvenirs. However, an artist fair in Bryant Park resulted in the acquisition of two tapestries which now adorn the great room of our home.

Unfortunately, we unknowingly returned home with another souvenir…

Peace Everyone! Pete

PS. Spending this excellent time with my wife has caused me to ponder what is the difference between thankful and grateful. I invite your thoughts.

Over the next two months we will wind our way north and east through New England, onto Nova Scotia, Labrador and Newfoundland, New Brunswick, Québec, and Ontario. There will even be a day-trip to France. I hope to share images and narrative as Internet connections allow.

The Butterfly Effect

Posted on by Pete Schloss

My primary motivation in writing the 53-part reflection on walking the Camino in 2013 was to assemble the “chapters” into a book to gift to our 9 grandchildren. This is the sixth such volume I have created to share our life experiences with then.

The book, “The Way, Our Way”, has now been electronically assembled, lacking only an “Introduction” before sending it off to the printer. 280 pages in all and measuring 12”x12”, it is a project that I am proud to give them. We hope that in time the grandchildren (or great-grandchildren!) may find the words and images inspiring.

The book will not be available to the public, even though the contents have been presented over the preceding months on my website. Part 1: “The Way” it Began | Peter M. Schloss, J.D. – Mediator. (mediationkc.com)

Since I have shared the 53 “chapters” with you readers, I thought it appropriate that I also share my “Introduction”:

“The Butterfly Effect”

Dear Grandchildren.

Conventional wisdom holds that the keys to a life well lived are focus and dedicated effort toward a goal. I believe that to be true, but only in part. Life is also a lottery where chance often comes into play. Seemingly insignificant opportunities and events occur throughout life which later loom large as having been life changing. It is only when we gaze into the rear-view mirror of our experiences that we can fully appreciate how small decisions set into motion events with monumental consequences. Here is just one example from my life with direct consequences for your parents and each of you:

In June of 1974 I accepted a job with the State of Missouri as a Probation and Parole Officer. I was given the option of an assignment in either St. Louis or Kansas City. I chose Kansas City solely on the basis that I had never been there before.

On July 7th I arrived in Kansas City with my small dog, “Samson Socrates”. Everything that I owned fit in my 1965 Dodge. My only furniture was a small 1920’s oak typing table that was salvaged from the remodeling of an old Chicago suburban high school. It served as my dinner table, and an orange Coleman ice chest was my chair. I secured a very small studio apartment ($119.00 per month rent, including utilities) which had a “Murphy Bed” that pulled out of the wall, each night transforming my living room into my bedroom. The apartment was little more than a place to stay dry and warm. I knew no one in Kansas City. It was an emotionally bleak time spent mostly focused on work and my dog.

Samson provided me with some companionship. Taking him on long walks allowed for exploration of the neighborhoods and nearby shopping district. Occasionally, a stranger would stop to pet “Sam” and offer me some non-work related human contact. On one such evening’s walk a long-haired man who appeared to be in his 20’s called to me from the front porch of an older home that faced the busy Southwest Trafficway.  Over the noise of the traffic he yelled out, “Hey, what’s up?” I responded that I was just out walking my dog. “Want a beer?” I was surprised by the offer, and gratefully accepted.

We spoke, I finished the beer, and then as I prepared to leave, I offered my thanks. “You don’t have to thank me, this isn’t my party. The hostess is inside or out back.” I decided to extend my stay and human contact by seeking out “the hostess”. Other folks inside directed me to the back yard where I introduced myself to an attractive young woman. At her urging I became the beneficiary of a second beer, and we began to talk. I spoke of my arrival in Kansas City, my work, my travels, and more. She reciprocated, but mostly with questions that encouraged me to share more of my “story”. We sat beneath a huge oak tree as time stood still. The encounter lasted nearly 3 hours. It was with regret that I finally said that I had to be going. My spirits lifted as she asked if I might come by and visit again.

If you haven’t already guessed, that young woman was your Grandmother. We began to date, but not without a few “speedbumps” of my own creation. We married in June of 1977 and were blessed with the birth of our children, your parents.

What if I had chosen St. Louis over Kansas City? What if I had walked Samson in a different direction? What prompted that man to call out to me with the offer of a beer? What if I had not accepted? Think of how life changed for me, Christine, your parents, and each of you by my decision to seek out “the hostess” merely to say thank you. What if Christine had not invited me back for another visit? I came to know why she did. Years later she shared that she had found me handsome, fascinating, an adventurous soul, almost exotic.

The events from that day in 1974 were the flutter of a butterfly’s wing that grew into the adventure of our lives. You might ask what this has to do with walking the Camino in 2013? As you will read in these pages, a friend’s innocent suggestion that I see a movie, “The Way”, is another time that the butterfly’s wings fluttered.

In retrospect, my life appears an endless series of seemingly insignificant moments that grew into experiences of consequence. I hope that someday you may reflect on your own lives and have the good fortune to say it was the journey and not the destination that brings you to smile and embrace someone you love.

Love to each of you and those who you bring into the World.
Peace, and Buen Camino. Grandfather

Written at Kansas City, Missouri. February 2, 2022. (2-2-22!)

 

Part 53: Epilogue, The Final Chapter

Posted on by Pete Schloss

 

On May 23rd, while enjoying wine and tapas in a small Santiago bar, I shared some of my thoughts about the Camino with Irish Peregrina, Una Barrett. I likened the pilgrimage to Peter Pan’s “Never Land”, a place where an adult may return to the spirit of youth and childlike wonder.  “Tir na nÓg”, she replied, “It’s Irish for “The Land of Eternal Youth.’”

On May 31st, with cabin lights dimmed, Christine and I were relaxing aboard our west bound flight. We were crossing the Atlantic. We were heading home.

Una’s words came back to me as I gazed out the window at the clouds below. With the benefit of the plane’s Wi-Fi I was able to find passages from J. M. Barrie’s 1911 novel, “Peter Pan and Wendy” that spoke to my heart. I began to type.   

May 31st. “Tir na nÓg” (Gaelic for “The Land of Eternal Youth”)

“”Second to the Right, and Straight on till Morning.’ That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to Neverland.” (From “Peter Pan and Wendy”)

Scarcely could there be better directions to the Camino. Over the last 6 weeks I have learned that it is not so much a place, although it is a place, as it is a Way. It is not something realized through a book or from a video, it is an experience that unfolds within. The things which were important at the start; selection of equipment, route planning, communications, became laughingly insignificant. Destination yields to Journey. Appreciation for the qualities of those dear to you gains sharper focus. One’s “guard” drops, and the door to new friendships opens wide. Expectations give way to Acceptance.

For some the Camino may remain a vacation, an adventure, or an item checked off of a “bucket list”. For me the Camino was a blossoming rebirth of the happiness, innocence, and affection found in childhood. My Camino also included anxiety, discomfort, pain, and illness. However, without the full range of experiences, good and bad, there could not have been growth or appreciation of the Camino’s “gifts”. These included sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures, which were a sensorial symphony that played every day. Also included were intense spiritual experiences, and friendships which were like a morning Espresso; deep, intense, and rich but fleeting.

At the risk of inadvertent omissions, I acknowledge those friendships at the end of this note; a final “thank you” to the people who gave special dimension to my Camino. We walked the path side-by-side, shared a table, ordered dinner and wine from a Pilgrim’s Menu, enjoyed and endured Albergues, and of course frequently exchanged the sincere declaration, “Buen Camino!”

These were friendships that carried with them the uncertainty of not knowing if a parting would be followed by a separation of a day, a week, or a lifetime. Reunions on the Camino were often unexpected and flowing with simple joy. This was the kind of delight that is more typical of a child’s excitement upon seeing a beloved but long absent grandparent. For an adult, such warmth without reservation was a rare gift.

Is it any wonder that my hesitation may be misunderstood when I am asked, “So, how was the Camino?” What can I possibly say that offers justice to the question, let alone the experience?

I carried my backpack over 800 km on the Camino. Difficult at first, but it soon became second nature. I have wondered what I might carry with me from the Camino into everyday life. During an evening prayer service in Rabanal, a monk urged us to be mindful that Christ walked the Camino disguised as a pilgrim, careful not to reveal his identity. Perhaps a metaphor, but the message worked on me. As I encountered pilgrims, I found myself thinking, “What if she…, or he…?” I became a bit more sincere, a little kinder, less inclined to judge, and more patient. Perhaps that is the best thing for me to carry forth from the Camino, that the Spirit lives within each of us, and that I must act accordingly.

There is more from the Camino that deserves to be preserved in my life: The childlike wonder that we are born with was stirred anew. It should not again be allowed to dim. Each day should be a search for a new joy, and when found it should be shared with others. There is within each of us the capacity to do our best, and in that to do good by others. Happiness has its source in these things, and when found gives the soul wings.

From “Peter Pan and Wendy”:

 (Wendy’s daughter Jane speaking to Wendy) “What do you see now?”

(Wendy) “I don’t think that I see anything tonight.”

“Yes you do, you see when you were a little girl.”

“That is a long time ago, sweetheart.. Ah me, how time flies!”

“Does it fly, the way you flew when you were a little girl?”

“… Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I ever really did fly.”

“… Why can’t you fly now, mother?”

“Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way.”

May I never forget… “The Way”.
Love to all of you. Have Fun, Do Good, and Be Safe. Buen Camino!
Peter Schloss.

Dedication: To you who I name, and to those who I forget to name, the Camino wove you into the fabric of my life. Do not underestimate your contribution or my gratitude: Kris, Maggie, Bernard, Roberto, John, Lene, Jacobien, Henk, Christine, Gabi, Sabine, Gerri, Paul, Martin, Heika, Ed, Sam, Brent, Michael, Tony, Geraldine, Jenni, Jack, David, Carole, Ramona, Kalina, Regina, Alan, Deb, Dick, Bonnie, John, Patricia, Philip, Alex, Vickie, Kate, Patrick, Karin, Sven, Claudia, Jay, Mark, Chance, Olivia, Stephanie, Marcia, Tess, Lisa, Rose, Mike, Angie, Marianne, Gurtz, Javier, Jessica, Marign, Yosmar, Una, Eric, Andre, Raphael, Begonia, Neus, a Monk, a barber in Vega de Valcarce, a Pilgrim from the 11th Century, and of course my very good wife, Christine.

Some of you I have named will read this, but for others this dedication will be a message in a bottle. If you can pass it on to another who might not otherwise receive it, then the bottle will have reached that shore.

Finally, a special thanks to Albert Hickson. In the earliest days of publishing these posts to my website, Albert began sending me near daily comments, suggestions, and corrections. His contributions were voluntary and unsolicited. Albert is 73, retired, and he has walked the Camino more than once. He and his wife of 43 years, Viv, live near London, England. We had never previously known of or communicated with each other.

Pete