Nostalgia

“Treetops” is the original tree lodge. Located in Kenya, Africa, it's world famous for its location facing water holes and a salt lick in the Aberdares National Park as well as its historical royal connection. The lodge lies at 6,450 feet above sea level.  This is the place where England’s Queen Elizabeth was on a safari with her husband Prince Philip when she learned of the death of her father and subsequently became Queen.

Incidentally, she said later it had not hit her being Queen until she reached the airport in London and the secretary that greeted her called her “your royal highness”.  This is the ultimate travel destination for a world traveler interested in wildlife.  I remember my small room and the small dining room. At the time I had a small island of vision in one eye and I was able to see the wildlife at night when they came to the watering hole.  Naturally, this expensive facility built in the trees does not accommodate many people. 

About ten years later I went to Tiger Tops Corbett Lodge, Corbett’s most ostentatious resort, overlooking the Kosi and the forested hills beyond.  This, like Treetops, was rustic and isolated.  I remember getting off a small plane and then getting on an elephant for the ride to the hotel many miles away, through the jungles of India.  The rooms were small and as we were eating at night one of the guys came in and said a tiger had been sighted.  The others got up from the table to evaluate the tiger, by that time I could see nothing (I am totally blind 100% disabled service connected veteran), I stayed in the dinning room and asked them to describe the scene when they returned.  Evidently, they put something out for the tiger to eat and the smart tiger, like Pavlov’s dog, knows when to show up for a “staged” presentation.  The following day we returned via elephant to a halfway camp where food was served but for the life of me, I could not eat in front of many natives standing around.  The poverty and starvation of India will kill the appetite of the most heartless gourmet. 

The one thing I remember most about Treetops was the chief United Nation's ambassador for continent of Africa. He invited the president from a medical school from Dusseldorf, Germany and myself to eat with him.  I remember asking one specific question which had bothered me for some time as I had heard news accounts of starvation in Africa.  Yet, in every African village I traveled, always the social event of the day was the market.  Since refrigeration is almost unknown in Africa away from the cities, the women go to the market each day to acquire food. I asked the chief UN representative to Africa (a student of both Monahan and Kissinger) how much of the largess given for the people of Africa from the organizations and philanthropist of the US ever reaches the natives in the villages who need it. He told me that less than 2% of the largess from taxpaying citizens and philanthropy ever reaches the natives who need it because of the many filters of corruption through which the money must pass. He said at first he had go to the duty free shops at the airport to get bribe gifts to take to the tribal leaders. Then the tribal leaders, local rulers, must appoint their family members, at great cost, to distribute the money and the needed goods from America. A big cauldron of corruption.

I have encountered such brazen extortion activity at airports and places of immigration throughout Africa and other parts of the world.  I remember entering Botswana where not one person at the immigration desk could read English. Even though it was evident I was blind, when the official saw my passport, she said “You must pay me five America dollars to enter this country.” The man in baggage claims wanted five dollars, “if I ever wanted to see my suitcase again.”

So, whether Africa, Washington dc, or on wall street, everyone is playing the corruption game of money. 

Recently, I said to a man eating lunch with me, “Have you noticed that every time there is one of these multiple killings, the killer always kills himself?”  If I were evil enough to shoot other people (many cases members of the killers family) and I had no spiritual faith and was convinced that there is no such thing as hell as most of these killers must be convinced, death would be the easy way out.  Why would anyone in my condition, totally bind, living alone, facing the aggravations that everyone faces everyday from the world, the flesh, and the devil, want to keep on living.  Death would be the easy way out of this land where there is no respect for life, little patriotism and just a steady bombardment of bad news from every direction. 

I long for the time when men were not effeminate and men acted like men.

I long for the time before women became so masculine and men could enjoy their femininity and gentleness. 

I long for the time when empathy was shown toward disabled, elderly, less promising people with less potential for success.

I long for the time when an adult felt safe to touch or show interest in a small child without others thinking him or her a pedophile.

I long for the time when, when you shook a persons hand you could tell by the way they grasp your hand if they were genuine in there attitude towards you.

I long for the time when the television programs had the family quality and the enjoyment of the program by Milton Burrow or Ed Sullivan, the time when you were entertained and not insulted.

I long for the time when the father/husband was head of the house and their was never any doubt in the wife or child's mind who was boss and who would defend them, running through the fires of hell if necessary to protect and provide for them.

I long for the time when a father could go to work at his job knowing that he made enough to provide for his family, when it was necessary for both parents to work one or more jobs.

I long for the time when a mother could stay at home, nurture her babies and young children, keep the house clean and provide nice meals for her family.

I long for the time when children could come home from school thrilled with the knowledge of things learned there, not embarrassed by the language and activity of the school or the bullying of school mates.

I long for the time when Christians, loving God’s word and God’s mission, easily recognized those who are just playing games with God.

I long for the time when in civic clubs and veterans groups the pledge of allegiance to flag was almost as sacred as God's word.

I long for the time when college students yearned for an education, read the classics, learned to appreciate great music,  heard, read, memorized, and meditated on matters past and present that make a person truly educated.

Imitation of Christ
By Thomas à Kempis

BEHOLD, my God and my all! What more do I wish for; what greater happiness can I desire? O sweet and delicious word! But sweet only to him who loves it, and not to the world or the things that are in the world.

My God and my all! These words are enough for him who understands, and for him who loves it is a joy to repeat them often. For when You are present, all things are delightful; when You are absent, all things become loathsome. It is You who give a heart tranquility, great peace and festive joy. It is You who make us think well of all things, and praise You in all things. Without You nothing can give pleasure for very long, for if it is to be pleasing and tasteful, Your grace and the seasoning of Your wisdom must be in it. What is there that can displease him whose happiness is in You? And, on the contrary, what can satisfy him whose delight is not in You?