Dictating Democracy

Hello, Friends.




One of the highlights of my Walkabout was a moment of respite in Oshkosh, NE, when I caught Charlie Chaplin playing two roles in The Great Dictator. This was one of Chaplin's best and most effective movies. In it, he played the European dictator, Adenoid Hynkel, and a down-and-out Tramp. Final words spoken by the Tramp standing in for Hynkel may be useful for all of us to reconsider in the present schizophrenic world.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Dictator

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be an Emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible, Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that. We all want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone.




The way of life can be free and beautiful. But we have lost the way.


Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.


We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in;
machinery that gives abundance has left us in want.


Our knowledge has made us cynical,
our cleverness hard and unkind.

 We think too much and feel too little.



 More than machinery we need humanity,
more than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness.
Without these qualities life will be violent and all will be lost.
The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say: do not despair.




The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass and dictators will die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish.


Soldiers: don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder!


Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men,
machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts.
You are not machines!
You are not cattle!
You are men!!
You have the love of humanity in your hearts.
You don't hate, only the unloved hate.
The unloved and the unnatural.


Soldiers: don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty!


In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written:
- "The kingdom of God is within man."

 Not one man, nor a group of men, but in all men: in you!


You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.
Then, in the name of democracy, let us use that power, let us all unite!
Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give you the future and old age and security.

 By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfil their promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people.
Now let us fight to fulfil that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness.

Soldiers! In the name of democracy: let us all unite!




Comments welcomed at theportableschool@gmail.com.



In Amity, Unity and Imagination,




Brother Robert

Favorite Spots on the Road

I generally focus on great people I meet on my Walkabouts. But, some of them appear connected with favorite spots. Here are a few of the latter. I apologize for being unable to upload photos. Using public library computers has some limitations.


* Jeannie Bean's Bakery and Emporium in Oshkosh, NE - This was a neat small town find. Great cinnamon rolls - $2.50 included lemonade. The place was loaded with Wizard of OZ memorabilia. Tom Nelson said his mother Jeannie moved from Kansas and started the shop many years ago.


The place needed air conditioning and could use a website. But, it still has rustic flare and great color and nostalgia.

It is hard to resist OZ and I am getting closer as I journey towards Kansas.


* The Most Unlikely Place in Lewellen, NE - This was an even greater find in the next town to the east. A few years back, the Miller family, which includes a number of artists, bought an old building with a fair amount of history, but a questionable future. There are some wonderful craftsmen and women represented by the MUP.

http://themostunlikelyplace.com

They refurbed the once-upon-a-time theater and made it into an art gallery and bistro. The people there were welcoming and friendly. Candy and Jenna Spady made me especially at home. Jenna even played piano for the small entourage. I also ran into Gary DeCock who grew up in Harlowton while finishing my luncheon. Small world.


* Just up the street in Lewellen is the 17 Ranch Winery - I spent an hour visiting with Janet, employee and former school teacher, while the hot afternoon passed by. I was impressed by efforts in a small community to revive business and get "things going." They have their work cut out for them.


Lewellen also boasts a sweet little B&B and motel at the end of Main Street.

http://ganderinn.net

Lewellen has a wide Main Street and TALL flag pole in the middle. No problems parking in Lewellen.


I will add favorites as I remember or find them along the way.


Send comments to theportableschool@gmail.com

Nebraska, Here I AM

Arrived in Bridgeport, NE, around 11:00 am. Although I have walked a lot of miles, the trek has been speeded up a number of times thanks to drivers who stop and offer me rides. I have generally decided to accept.

I walked from Guernsey to Fort Laramie, WY, a few days ago. Slept under a tree in a park. Got up on Sunday and made my way to the Saloon run by Brandon and Matt. They gave me water and sodas and sent me on my way.

Several miles down the road, the Fitzgeralds of Guernsey picked me up and carried me to Scotts Bluff, Nebraska - a boost of 30-40 miles. I walked through Scotts Bluff and Terrytown and Gering, intending to walk into the evening to the east.

I encountered Teri Genua at the Fresh Foods Store. Before long, I was invited to spend a few hours at her home. After long conversations and a night camped on the living room floor, Teri made me breakfast. Then, we went to the Public Library where I gave her email, internet and Microsoft Word tips. My method was to help Teri get some of her ideas and writing out of notebooks and into computer format so as to be someday printable and publishable.

Thereafter, we drove into the Scotts Bluff National Monument, walked along one of its paths, and viewed the landscape which on a clear day can stretch 90 miles.

After watermelon, Teri went back to work and I headed out from Fresh Foods at 4:00 pm toward Bridgeport. I had been out an hour or so when Curt who works at the hospital picked me up and carried me to Melbeta. I put my bag at the "wrong spot" next to the Rock Shop which apparently disturbed the owner. Matt, a Minatare policeman, came by and offered me a ride to the edge of the county.

Instead, I chose McGrew which is shy of the border by a few miles. McGrew boasts the Pink Palace Saloon which Teri said "you have to see."

I saw it and walked into the dark. Morrill County police officer, Steve Lattin, said Hello from his cruiser at around 8:00 pm. He offered me a dozen-mile ride into Bridgeport, but I chose to walk into the Moon for a few hours.

Eventually tiring, I found a sign-post next to the highway to lean my backpack against and proceeded to rest from about 11:00 to 7:00 am. After cleanup, I walked a few brisk miles when Albert Hanoch volunteered a ride to Bridgeport.

I took myself to the Bakery and then the Library when I write this note.

The road has been kind and so have the people of Wyoming and Nebraska. I am convinced that given the opportunity, most people act with kindness and goodwill. My Walk offers some of those opportunities.

There are many ways to give and share so as make this a better world.

In Amity Unity and Imagination.

Robert

Send comments to theportableschool@gmail.com

Miles Down the Road

Ahoy, Friends and Neighbors.


I have a few minutes at the Public Library in Guernsey Wyoming. It is a small building packed with books and a few computers which are in demand on this Saturday morning. Sheila Oliver, the librarian, is chasing around trying to accommodate people. Giving up her computer so a customer can get his project done.


I have had an eventful week. Seen a lot of Wyoming. Met fine people. Slept under the stars. Withstood the elements, which have changed and changed and changed.


Got caught in a hail storm a few days ago. The poncho and a tree (fortunately available where 99.9 percent of the time there are none) didn't keep me and my gear from getting mostly soaked. Drying took most of a day.


Beginning August 1, I have had a number of benefactors on the journey: Friend Charlotte dropped me off outside of Cody. While the wind and clouds subsided, I began walking. Within a mile, I had a ride offer. But couldn't quite accept. Then did take a ride from Joe a few miles later - on the way to the Casino at Riverton - we had a great visit and he dropped me at Shoshoni.


I slept under the stars next to cacti and dirt and sage and sandstone bluffs. Continued to Moneta where next to nothing exists. Dennis and Gracye Keller rescued me. Put me up in their warehouse for a few hours, then I head east.


Dr. Travis Marshall picked me up and carried me to Casper. Travis is a podiatrist, but he most  interested in politics and his LDS Church. After a sandwich, I headed to Glenrock, sleeping in an almost grassy area beside the highway.


I found that Wyoming is doing well financially because of the oil and natural gas boom. Lots of jobs, money, construction. On to Douglas, meeting Coates and Toman, police officers, and Gypsy, a wanderer from LA. Slept under a great tree near a park on the edge of town. Rained just a bit, but no mosquitoes and a sweet sleep.


Did the Interstate the next day, which has advantages and disadvantages. Too much traffic, but a wide shoulder for walking. Randy Lund, a contract mail hauler for the USPS, stopped his big rig and handed me a sandwich that morning. Visited with some Garden Clubbers at the Orin Rest Area. Used my tent for a tent instead of a pillow for the first night. Big rainstorm, but kept dry mostly.


Encountered BNSF man early next day. John Bauder gave me water and a little boost up the road to Howard's Grill in Glendo. Had breakfast talking to the cook Amy who works 6 to 3 seven days a weeks, every day of the year except Easter, Thanksgiving, two Christmas holiday weeks. Wow.



Had good visits thereafter with Larry Sommers, Texas rancher, returning home after Sturgis Rally visit, and Ken and Bobby heading for Minneapolis.


Caught in the rain that eve. Drying out in the ditch. In the morning, I took myself into a property looking for some water and met Larry the Irrigation Man. He filled my bottle and talked and talked and talked about the Oregon Trail and how he is finding metal remnants with his detector. He intends to discover the $30,000 in gold that Jack Slade stole from the stage line 150 years ago. It will be worth 10,000,000 million dollars.


Ronda Osborn who is employed by Keyhole Highway Construction lifted me up the road a few miles through some recent road work and dropped me in front of the El Rancho Restaurant. A sweet spot, with good food and service. I rested under the trees, got under the restaurant porch before a deluge.


Visited with the waitress Kim and bartender Tiffany and Geno Davis, The Milk Man, who loves beer.


"Camped on the concrete" at the next Rest Area that night. Then, marched to Guernsey - 15 miles in the morning. I was proud of myself. Anthony Grubbs, another BNSFer, stopped to load me up with COLD WATER bottles.


I took a room at the Bunkhouse Motel, talked to Bruce Heimbuck, Community Developer, and stopped at the grocery store for provisions. Finished the night off with first TV in a week, watching a Dateline episode on the FLDS.


Heading on to Fort Laramie, Torrington, and NEBRASKA after an afternoon rest in the park.


All is well on the prairie. May it be well in your own worlds.


In Amity Unity and Imagination.


Robert


Send comments to theportableschool@gmail.com

I'm Back in the Saddle Again

Well, almost. And, the Saddle will be my Kelty backpack as I commence my 2014 Walkabout on or about 1 August. The Theme for this year's Trek is Amity, Unity and Imagination. We all can share more of those energies in our lives and worlds.

Along the way I will visit old friends in Kansas. And new ones I meet along the way. If you know anyone along the general route I ought to encounter, let me know.

After conferring with my Kansas friends, I may head to the Southwest. But, my travel itineraries often change. So, it is hard telling where the route will lead.

I will endeavor to stop at libraries along the way to do weekly blogs for those who may be interested.

So, along with Gene Autry ---

I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly Jimson weed

Back in the saddle again

Ridin' the range once more
Totin' my new Fannie Flag.
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEJWoGUxnxQ

Send comments to theportableschool@gmail.com.

In Amity, Unity and Imagination.

Robert

Healing Friends

I missed telling a couple stories from the Walk of 2013. So, here comes the first. Better late than never.

I was in Melstone, MT, for several days in July and determined to visit a friend from the first excursion in 2002. His name is Bud Hjelvik and you can review his story at a previous blog entitled This Bud's For You.

Bud

I walked out a couple miles east of Melstone one warm day and found Bud at his ranch home. He was smiling and happy to see me, remembering our meeting years back. Bud seemed to think it was but a few years ago when it had been all of eleven plus a few days.

We had a grand visit and passed stories back and forth. Plus questions about his life and my own.

There had been quite a bit of water under the bridge for Bud. Some medical and surgical problems as well as the death of his wife. None of those are all that uncommon for a man in his 80s.

Still, Bud's age hadn't slowed him down much at all. He continued in the thick of ranch chores with his son and grandson. But, Bud had had a fall several days past and was nursing a pained right shoulder and struggling with extra discomforts when trying to sleep at night. Mr. Hjelvik had been doctoring and thought he would have to get an MRI before long and whatever might follow that.

I told him before we parted that I knew just the man who could help him. I soon got on the phone and talked with my good friend, Adrian Min. I knew Adrie would lend a hand if there was any way we could get Bud and him together.

Adrie made it easy by volunteering to drive out to Melstone the next Saturday. He stopped to pick me up before noon and we headed out to see Bud. I had told him ahead of time of my plan.

Bud was delighted to meet "Mr. Holland," which name he decided was easier to say than Adrie or Min. Adrian spent much of his life in the Netherlands, coming to the USA over 20 years ago. He has been a US citizen for some years now.

Adrian went to work quickly, asking a few questions and putting Bud's arm through its present range of motion. Then, he did some of his very eclectic brand of physical therapy. He spaced those efforts with teaching simple exercises which Bud could do on his own.

Adrie and I spent over an hour with Bud during the therapy session and visit. Bud obviously could use his arm with greater facility and comfort by the time "Holland" was done. Adrian attended Bud as if he was family, friend and patient all at the same time.

Adrie and Bud

Hjelvik decided he should buy lunch and invited us to meet him at the Melstone Cafe. We spent some more time together, had a meal at the only spot in town, and took some parting photos.

I wish I could say that Bud followed the exercise regimen that Adrian lined out for him. I kind of doubt that he spent much time following instructions.

Regardless, Bud improved enough to play guitar at the Jersey Lily Bar in Ingomar a few days later. When I called him a couple weeks down the road, he said he was sleeping a lot better and his arm was working "pretty well." Bud was still ranching, drilling wells, and hadn't done the MRI.

It didn't sound like he was in quite perfect shape, but Bud was pleased with the results of Adrie Min's House Call.

House Calls are hardly common these days. Nor are people like Adrie Min. He is a talented, compassionate, hands-on medical professional who has helped many, many people with a variety of medical and surgical and orthopedic complaints. I feel confident in saying that, "I believe Mr. Min is more of a healer than all but a very few physicians and therapists in the medical business. He touches people and patients in many

Adrie does great work in and out of the hospital. You should get to know him.
http://rockymountainastrologer.com/EverybodysBusiness/LightTouch.html

Walking in Another Man's Shoes

My 2013 Walk was made much easier by a simple change of footware. In 2002 and 2012, I relied on frequent stops to douse my feet in streams, lakes, ponds, ditches or puddles. To rest and cool them, and my whole being.

Each trip, I was wearing boots - most of the time. I thought they carried me quite well. Nonetheless, my feet got tired, hot, and sweaty. Cool water or any water helped. And, I made many stops to water my feet

One of the reasons, I decided to push a Buggy on the 2013 trip was that I could carry extra water to drink in case of dry spots heading toward Arizona. I also imagined carrying enough water to rinse my feet in case the ditches and puddles disappeared, as they did a number of times on the road.

But, that scenario never materialized because new footware came to the rescue. Actually, my then next-door neighbor Lorenzo Haarr came to rescue.

Lorenzo

A few days before my journey was to begin, Mr. Haarr invited me to his house for a Walking Party to send me off on the next excursion. The Elwoods and the Kolmans and the Haarrs convened for cookies and lemonade and a good visit. People asked about my intended route (which changed almost before I got out of town) and I queried everyone about their plans for the summer.

Somewhere during the party, Lorenzo asked about footware for the trip. Not waiting for the whole answer, he divested himself of his Tevas and said, "Give these a try. If they fit and you like them, wear them on your journey."

I wasn't sure about wearing "sandals" on such a trip, but I did give them a try. They fit perfectly and felt great. I tested them out several times in the next few days. And, I wore them all the way to the Black Hills. When they began to wear through at the heels and balls of my feet, I traded off with my boots especially in the morning.

The Tevas worked wonderfully. They were comfortable, airy, and easy. And to top the whole deal off, I managed sometimes whole days without needing to put my feet in water. That was good because there were a number of days in eastern Montana and western Nebraska when no streams or ditches in walking range appeared during the day's travel.

So, how did it feel to Walk in Another Man's Shoes? It felt terrific. I am hooked on those walking sandals. The Tevas lasted until my first stop along the Mickelson Trail in South Dakota. I decided that Mystic, SD (just a spot on the trail - once the location of a mine) was an appropriately named place to deposit the worn-out Tevas and put on the new Keens which my brother had bought for me in Deadwood.

I can't say enough for the Tevas and the Keens. I am keen on both of them. I recommend them highly, at least the kind I got. (See photo below).

And, I can't recommend my friend Lorenzo enough. He is a wonderful neighbor in Harlowton, a community and family man, a former Peace Corps volunteer, rafter and traveler, and - I dare not forget - an avid and accomplished golfer.

I don't remember any psychic or sympathetic revelations from walking 450 miles in another man's shoes. But, I did learn the value of modern walking sandals thanks to another man named Lorenzo. I also call him on occasion, Mr. Sympatico.

These are Keens, I wore socks.