The sky is deep blue on this beautiful spring day in Monterey, California; there is no cloud to be seen. The sun beats down on the soft white sand while it hammers the beach. It's seven a.m., and nine divers back into the water; seven will submerge as students; they will emerge as certified scuba divers. After the certification, I was invited to join the two instructors in a private dive. We would drive to a popular scuba diving spot in Camel. The large rocks, fierce waves, and tall kelp beds encouraged more hazards than a beginner's beach would; the beauty below the surface is worth the risk.
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A slow rhythmic swim to the dive site helps prepare the mind for the wonders it's about to witness. The lead diver points to the ocean floor; the face mask disappears while the fins come out quickly then submerge under the water. I follow the bubbles; the visibility is the best I've seen. Marvelous colors surround the soul during the dissent. Diving headfirst, eyes straight ahead, the feet move back and forth in a smooth, slow rhythm. Turquoise comes to mind as blues turn to different shades of dark green, shadows move in unison, first towards the eyes, then away. It takes several minutes to get to the bottom. In this world, everything moves in slow motion.
As the knees, fins, and gloves rest softly on the seafloor, the body moves from one side to the other. The sound of the surging ocean adds music to the sensation; the motion is noticed, first on one boulder, then moved to the next. Back and forth, back and forth;. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, back and forth. The soothing environment relaxes the body and the spirit, much like an infant slowly rocking in a cradle. The eyes would close, but the beauty demands intent observation. The head tilts back, looking up towards the surface, as the brilliant colors flow together to cast a magnificent backdrop to the wonders of the sea.
A nudge off the rock and firm kicking propel me through the tall curtain of seaweed. While my arms move slowly through the kelp-bed, allowing me to float gracefully through, I gaze upon a brave new world. As though a forest miraculously appeared where the desert once lived. It's a vision to be carried deep in the brain for years to come. A world pure and free of evil intrusion. The joy of feeling one with nature as the souls kiss; and the mind embraces the thrill of a most incredible adventure.
Pacifica is a small coastal community not far from San Francisco; it was home for almost twenty years. The cottage sat slumped over with a sagging roof halfway up the hill. Located on the edge of town and a mile from the beach, it was the perfect place for a ten-year-old boy to learn the ways of the world. Riding the waves at an early age made me strong and agile. So when I was chosen the most valuable swimmer in high school, I was given the confidence to begin the lifelong long quest to discover America, starting with the bottom of the sea.
By Gero 11.8.2021 America's darkest days.
In the mountains weather beats down the hearts & minds of humans and creatures damned to exist here With the cold wind bouncing off the stone walls of the only shelter available, the eyes are forced open. The cave is pitch black until a fire is lit, then the giant shadows from the large rocks dance between the bright lights of the warm blaze, “Is it morning already?” Mosi asks. “Yes, son, it is,” his father, Lekan, said. I need you to tie the skins together and gather everything in the mouth of the cave, and I’ll be back soon.”
The name Mosi in Africa means firstborn, he disliked waking up in the morning for several reasons, his bones hurt, and he was always hungry and cold; his dad would yell out for him to get up, move around and drink water when available. It would help with the early morning pains. Mosi’s thin body allowed him to get deeper into the caves than most, and he would find more exciting stones than the others. His arms and legs were strong, his mind sharp, and his will for survival determined. The other young men of the village envied him.
The harsh weather, infertile land, and lack of tools made life in the mountains outside of Concordia Africa difficult, in some cases impossible. From early morning until late at night, survival is the only thing that matters. At age fifteen, it is Mosi’s responsibility to provide for the family. Lekan is weak from a life of struggle, misery, heartache, and disappointment. He can move around on his own, but there is little more the thin aging man could do. Today they will walk ten miles to the village, which is another ten miles outside Cape Town. They will rest and then go to town with the few stones, artifacts, and anything else they could find in the ancient caves. Some of the items will bring in coins used to buy food and supplies.
By Gero 2/3/2022
“Oh my God, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s going to be here any second, oh my God, perhaps he’s going to choose me today. Wouldn’t it be great if he chooses me; if he takes me to school, then to the park, and then to the restaurant for his soda. What a day it’ll be; what a day it’ll be if he chooses me. The blue denim jacket hangs on the same hanger every night and most days. It is fun swinging back and forth when the door is open and the wind blows in from outside, but that’s hardly ever.
When the closet door is opened, Jimmy’s attire is the first thing seen; blue jeans, bright blue T-shirt, and wool plaid shirt. After that, all he needs is a warm, comfortable wool-lined denim jacket. This is where I come in. As he reaches in, I know he is choosing me; I will be his wingman today; he will wear or carry me all day long. His friend Rubin once attempted to put me on, and Jimmy said, “No way, Jose; nobody but me wears this jacket;” it was really, really cool.
You have got to be kidding me; he’s reaching for the pullover sweater. Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me? There is no way that garment will look better on you than me; you have got to be kidding me. He will not keep you as warm, he is uncomfortable, and he looks worn. But, on the other hand, I am strong, stylish, and loyal. Sweaters are alright when the weather is alright but, you want heavy-duty when things go wrong. A wool-lined denim jacket is the only way to go when the wind blows colder, and the rain hits harder.
It looks like it’s going to be another day in the office, the closet office. What the heck is going on? Normally Jimmy is on his way to school by now. Mom must have told him to come back and get a jacket; that is good thinking. Easy, no need to rip me off the hanger, and do not dare but me in that backpack. Don’t you dare, I’m warning you, better not, stop, stop, stop; mumble, mumble, mumble, muffle, muffle; back in the pack.
By Gero 2 /4/2022
They wanted to be good citizens, and if not for the pandemic, they probably would have. They came from loving, hard-working families; had similar backgrounds, education, ideology, temperament, and social status. They processed average weight, height, intelligence, coordination, and health. The personalities, although compatible, were very different. The handoff went smoothly; the young man was welcomed into the family and was made to feel at home by the daughter’s father.
The celebration would occur in Arizona, where the new family would settle. Handing the reins over to the new husband seemed like a good move initially; misjudging his character was a crucial error. He destroyed the love and trust previously enjoyed by the family. As their affections grew, the couple became self-absorbed and arrogant. They believed they were more intelligent, sophisticated, and better than others. His control over her and the children changed the family dynamic.
Please be brave; what I am about to tell you may be frightening, but it is essential that you learn it. Despite what you may have heard, the world is not what you make of it; you are what the world makes of you. Bad things happen to good people, just like good things happen to bad people. Unfortunately, very little can be done about it. We must, all, overcome it to live a happy life.
Be careful what you wish; because you just might get it. The dad hoped for a strong family unit, so he married and had two daughters. They were raised right and protected until they were eighteen when they went out on their own. They acted as if they cared and were grateful for the sacrifices made by their parents, but it was a phony act.
The girls had children of their own, and the dad was proud to help with them. The world had changed for the worse all were guessing what was best for them. The females stuck together and remained in contact with each other while casting out the male. It bothered him little that they no longer needed or cared what happened to him, but his grandchildren were still important.
The female members of the family concluded that the household would be better without the dad, so no contact was offered. They would not return phone calls or text messages; they would not invite him over for visits; no explanation was offered. The son-in-law admitted that he considered the dad a liability; the last text sent was accusations of alcoholism and selfish tendencies, although no proof was presented.
Surround yourself with people who genuinely care, not those who don't. Trust no one with your feelings as it is challenging to know who's who. If you must speak of your emotions, get a dog; you can trust animals that are not human. Do the right thing for others while expecting a stab in the back by those close to you. Sadly, loved ones may not contain the values you do. Good luck, wear your mask and get the vaccines.
Love, Grandpa