Some things I have learned

Murphys, Ca. -- I tend to dwell on the past -- good and bad -- more than I did when much younger. I think there are reasons for that: I am more prone to guilt for things I did wrong; and I am more prone to think the good old days were better than today. The guilt comes from being unable to right the wrongs of the past. When I was unkind, selfish or uncaring. Once the opportunity is past, for decades at least, it is truly past. People moved away. Gave up on me. Died with no contact. Even a few items nag. But I did some things right, like marrying Pat, and I learned some lessons along the way. Two important things I did learn: do what you can, and live today. Oh, and maybe most important: keep on doing stuff for as long as you can. I know in hindsight I could have been a better and more involved husband instead of being so focused on my work. I learned late in life about sharing the house burdens that men of my generation assumed would be always handled by women. It still seems odd when I remember to load the dishwasher, or run the vacuum cleaner. Hopefully my son and grandson and great-grandson will be better at sharing the load. My son-in-law has been a role model. I know I could have been a better parent, though I am not quite sure how. Probably life would have been easier for my children if I had been a better listener. Fortunately, and maybe through luck, they have turned out well. I suspect I would do no better if given another chance.

I know I could have been a better boss in the 30 years I was an editor at various newspapers. It seems strange to say but I was too easy on people who needed someone to tell them to work harder or do better or find another occupation. They would have been happier and the newspapers I ran would have been better. I could have learned earlier to put a bridle on my sometimes sarcastic tongue. The Book of James should have taught me, but it took a work colleague to help redirect me. A group was talking about other people, and I was pretty critical and putting someone down. Then this colleague reacted by responding quietly: "He always speaks highly of you." It was like being hit with a brick. I have always been thankful for that. And somewhere along the way I wish I had learned to put the past behind me, including my mistakes and those of others. The anger I carried through the years against a few people who hurt me still burdens me. I say I can forgive, but not forget, but the reality is forgiveness has to be renewed every day until it is no longer needed. That is a lifelong chore. I was lucky to have a friend in Modesto pass along advice from our minister after he went to him in anguish about what he should do with his life. Take a vow? Become a missionary? Give away everything? Nope, said the wise Rev. Nelson, go "work in the vineyard." Simply put, look what is put before you and take care of it. Stop sitting around worrying. The final and continuing lesson is to live today. Not yesterday and not tomorrow, times that we have little control over. I am still working on that. Until we quit, we all are becoming something else.

Make your friends your family

When we moved to California in the summer of 1980 we knew no one, knew nothing about what California was really like, and had no friends nearby. For about a month. Then the children started school and we almost immediately met Ralph and Suzie Coley, neighbors whose daughter Jen was in the same class with Ruth at the local elementary school. They invited us to share Thanksgiving dinner together, knowing we were new to the community and neighborhood. They and Alan and Anne Christie adopted us and made us welcome, sitting around a round patio table made of a cable spool. They allowed the new folks to be part of their foursome. That act of kindness was the beginning of almost 45 years of friendship. Ralph and I could hardly have been more different. He was a hulk of a man, obviously a weight lifter from his college football days, solid as a rock and almost as thick. He was a beer drinker, an engineer, a jogger. I was a journalist recently moved from the East, a reader of books and non-athletic. It just didn't matter. We both had Florida and camping and diving in our pasts, and the Coleys and Christies opened their homes to us and made us a part of their lives. Ralph's idea of neighbor was the keep his door open, the pool clean, the barbecue grill hot and the hot tub warm. Withing weeks he taught me the essential California skill of hanging out in his back yard, drinking beer in the hot tub, and competing to see who could throw the empty cans directly into the trash can. He and Alan happened to jog by our house one day while I was in our front yard digging up some plumbing. They stopped, assessed the situation as engineers are prone to do, and promptly took over and happily dug, laid pipe and covered it up when done. All I was required to do was make sure a cold beer was waiting. Over the next few years we hiked and camped together in the summers, and took up cross country skiing in the winter. One of my favorite Ralph memories was a summer we were camped out at Utica Reservoir high in the remote mountains, using canoes to go out to islands in the middle of the water. We had a problem, though. All the six-packs of beer were gone, and that was considered an emergency. So after searching carefully in the trucks and cars, Ralph and Alan drove ten miles or so to replenish the suplies. In the winter we would cross country ski from where the highway was blocked by snow, down into the area around Lake Alpine. We dragged all the kids along, even when our son at three was so small he had to be carried out at the end of a tiring day. Those were good years of growing friendships, and I treasure them today. I even recruited Ralph to play soccer on the Killer Bee adult team, which he did happily until he pulled a hamstring and had to bow out. This week we attended (via the Internet) the memorial service for Ralph, who died in Massachusetts where the Coleys made a home for the last two decades. The service was full of love and good memories and we watched as Ralph's son Travis, daughter Jen and wife Suzie all remembered his with love. The children now have grey hair, and the grandchildren are grown. The Christies were sitting with the family. Just what he would have enjoyed: family and friends together, telling stories.. As the preacher said at some point, Ralph lived by the idea that we all should "Make friends of our family, and family of our friends." We were privileged to be among those friends. RIP Ralph. A good man who left his mark.

Florida Revisited

Indialantic, Florida -- A week on a warm beach in Springtime always sounds like a good idea. Particularly when we had just experienced a late snow in Murphys and temperatures that froze my tomatoes. And it was. So we did it. Pat and I changed our minds about never returning to the place where we met, a mindset shaped mostly by the weird politics of Florida today and the realization things could never be like they were when we first met. We were married and had our first home on Cocoa Beach in the mid-1960s at the peak of the Apollo Program. Pat worked for NASA and I worked for The Miami Herlad and then the Today newspaper. The lure of beaches and the wonderful feel and smell of Spring overwhelmed our misgivings, so we took off for a week in an old-fashioned motel. No one eer mentioned politics. The logistics (detailed at the bottom) got complicated but did not stop us from having a great trip full of nostalgia, memories and great walks on the white sand beaches. We spent the first night in a motel near the Orlando Airport, and drove up to The Villages --a mega-development for Snowbirds built near Ocala -- for a quick lake-front lunch with Pat's brother Ron and sister-in-law Anita, then drove south on A1A to our destination in Indialantic Beach, a tiny town tucked in between Patrick Air Force (now "Space Force) Base where Pat's parent lived and more beach towns. They are all buried in condos today, but we found our quiet spot. I found the Paradise Beach Motel on-line after searching for the closest thing I could find to an old-fashioned beach motel of the type that dotted the almost-empty beaches decades ago. It was perfect: recently re-modeled, only eight units all within 50 yards of the boardwalk over the dunes, complete with a good air conditioner and a kitchen, bedroom and bath.

It is not fancy, but just what we wanted.

Our vacation "schedule" was light. The only appointment we made was for me to be interviewed by a documentary film maker about our former beach neighbor Marty Caidin, a colorful charachter who happened to be our friend in the 1960s when he came to modest fame for writing books including one they made the movie "Marooned" from, and another that was the template for the "Six Million Dollar Man" TV shows. Every day started with lathering with sun screen and a walk on the beach before the sun got too hot. We did not get burned. We ate our way carefully through shrimp, chowders, hot dogs at Longdoggers, Greek, pizza and other Italian. Yes we gained a little weight. We visited friends. Ruth Ann Alibrando had worked for NASA at the same time as Pat, and when I was with the Miami Herald. Her late sister was a close friend to Pat in college and her late husband was a NASA official I worked with. Her current husband is a sculptor of beautufl metal art and they made us welcome, and sent Pat home with a gift of a Florida painting to hang on the wall at home. We also visited with Eugenie Amalfitano and her husband Carlo, sitting on the dock in front of their Indian River home, tasting treats and drinking wine and catching up on family. The hospitality they offered washed away the decades, and made us feel welcomed. Friends are the real treasure wherever you go.

We lost track of the days, which is what a vacation is supposed to do. We spent one wonderful day exploring our old haunts on the beaches south near Sebastian Inlet, now a state park. This is a place we used to camp, explore, fish and just hang out. The A1A bridge was built the year we arrived in Florida. We camped at a county park with friends Benton and Sandy Bingham. I had fished the pilings under the bridge with my late friend Ron Caylor, trying unsuccessfully to catch a Snook. At one time Pat way back then and I took our 12 foot aluminum boat out into the ocean inlet and caught a lot of inedible fish, but having lots of fun. And yes, the birds caught in one single photo below include a Pelican, a egret and Ibis and a Stork. They were all stalking a fisherman who was throwing his net for baitfish. The weather remained wonderful every day: low humidity, temperatures in the 70s and one wonderful massive thunderstorm that dumped about two inches of rain in an hour. Pure Florida. The logistics were challenging, particularly with all the added fees for the airline, the rental car and even the motel. But once I learned to use the APP for travel, we were set. I'll save the complaints for the vendors on the internet. A good time was had. Enjoy the photos.

2023 -- Doing good (for people our age)

Summing up the LaMont family adventures and misadventures for the year 2023 is no easy task. We had many glad times and we had a few bad times. There is a certain balance to life. Overall: we are good. We survived as we moved further into our ninth decade on the planet. We are still vertical. There were a few bumps along the way. But first, the good stuff.

Above: Zack and Katie in Spokane. Below: us with great granddaughter Jamie

We were blessed this year to be able to spend time with our children, grandchildren, and our great-grandchildren. Nothing is better than being entertained by the great-grands during a visit to Spokane, our cheering for our now-grown grands who are finding their way in a challenging world. And we are particularly lucky to live near daughter Ruth and her husband Brian. Every time we visit with them and their menagerie of cats and dogs is a joy that lights up our days. Their daughter Delaney and husband are still in the Boston area working on post-graduate education, and loving the new experiences. And son Connor is home again after four years in Southern California.

Camping on the coast with friends George and Patty and Ruth and Brian.

And we made it back to Spokane in the Fall to see son Zack, his daughter Katie and the greatgrands. Katie is enjoying her new apartment and her two precious children. Such visits are treasures even if it does seem to snow every year when we drive north. Pat and I are blessed with good health, "for people your age" as our doctors say, and manage to stay active in different pursuits. Pat spends much of her days helping people, keeping me on track and looking out for the less fortunate or those that just need a bit of help or a smile. I spend my time reading, puttering in the yard, hiking at the state park, or finding an excuse to do music with friends. music or a meal We find that sharing meals with friends is great entertainment. We traveled some. The highlight was a first-ever trip to Alaska, where we used the efficient rail service to get around, and finally got to see the splendor of that great state. Alaska as seen from the domed train car.

And we made our annual trek to the Northwest Coast for a week of camping with family, and managed to spend a few days close to the ocean, something we require to replenish our spirits. We also got to visit our friends Warren and Marsha in Seattle, which is always a joy to us, and will reunited with sailing buddies Michael and Sylvia next week in the Bay Area. We had a few challenges and losses. As we and our friends age, some inevitably are lost. This year it was our old TODAY newspaper pal Ron Caylor, who had retired gracefully in the Smoky Mountains where he made wine and raised Border Collies. Ron was a member of our first "band," three colleagues who won a prize doing folk music at a company picnic in 1967. He was still making music. I imagine his Heaven has music, a glass of wine, dogs around his feet and a view of the mountains. I took a bad fall in the spring, and was very lucky I did not break anything. I worked my way back in time for the Alaska trip, and got Covid (again) on the way home. I heal, just a little slower than in past years. Then during the trip home from Spokane I managed to get Shingles -- something new-- but it was a mild case. Good medical care took care of all that and we are looking forward to more adventures -- with family and friends -- in 2024.

Having a beer with naighbor Gary at the Lube Room to celebrate Christmas Trees. The goal for 2024 is the same as always: stay healthy, spend time with family and friends and keep moving.

Alaska 2023

Our goal was to see Alaska. We saw Alaska, and are glad we did. We have posted lots of pictures recently, some of which I will include in this blog, but I wanted to give friends a better report on our trip to Alaska last week. We are still getting over the constant motion on trains planes and buses, feeling the solid ground underfoot is strange. We began planning months ago, and discovered that the Alaska Railway put together packages that included many beautiful places and interesting stops. We even watched a video of some of the train travel by independent videographers, and it was very appealing. We wanted to get a good taste, an overview, of Alaska. We did not want anything to do with large tour groups, or cruise ships. We knew everything would be expensive in Alaska, and decided it was worth it. I don't know how to do Alaska on the cheap. Alaska Rail offered several options. We chose what they call the Gold Star Option, which means most of the rail travel was essentially first class in domed cars, some meals and drinks, hotels and specific tours were included. Our trip was June 21 to 28, beginning and ending in Anchorage, a town we wanted to see because it had been home to our old friends. We flew in one day early and stayed at a less expensive hotel, a decision that saved about $300, and used that extra day to explore Anchorage, an interesting town in a beautiful setting. Highlight: the Anchorage Museum, with a world class exhibit of native Alaskan cultures and more, only two blocks from our hotel. Lowlight: The Anchorage Hilton did not have shuttle from the airport ($25) or to the train station. Our room was not ready when we arrived, or when we came back later as instructed. The desk clerk sent us to the wrong room, without luggage which they temporarily lost when we checked it, meaning we were grumpy and tired on our first night. (The good news, cheerful and helpful bellmen saved the day. Big tips.) Note: Our first day in Alaska was Solstice, the longest day of the year, which means we had almost 20 hours of daylight every day.

Day Two: we took a cab to the train station and Alaska Rail made us feel better. They had tickets ready, clear instructions, and checked our bags through to the hotel we would stay in that night. The trip was a short one to Girdwood but we saw eagles, moose and bear and mountains and rivers along the way. At the Girdwood stop, we were picked up by a knowledgable and cheerful guide for a visit to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center at the top of Turnagin Arm. She walked us through the center, explaining the animals and why they were there (rehab or re-establishment). They included wolves, musk ox, bison, moose, reindeer, wolves, fox, coyote and both black and brown (grizzly) bears. We had plenty of time before being led back to the train stop for lunch which was waiting for us. Then she handed us over to our next guide, Jack, who would be our river guide and host for the next several hours. We put on waterproof boots and reboarded the train for a short ride to a drop off for us, the rubber rafts and guides. We were at the Spencer Glacier where we began an afternoon of river rafting and stunning scenery.

The train pulled up alongside the river when we gout out of the boats just long enough to pick us all up and head back down the tracks to Girdwood, and the Alyeska Resort, a first class hotel that serves the areas' only ski resort. We had no time to look around. After a very long day we had a quick meal and got up early to catch a shuttle back to the train stop. While standing by the tracks a railroad employee showed up, took charge of all our luggage and checked it through to our next htoel -- in Seward at the end of the line. All along the route there was wildlife, stunning scenery and mountains and rivers everywhere.

We arrived in Seward just in time to walk one block to the marina and the beginning of a six hour offshore boat tour of Kenai Fjords National Park. The captain was clearly an expert naturalist as well as captain, and she talked about the wildlife, the geology, and the park as we rode out into the Gulf of Alaska to look for whales. She found Orcas and we watched for a while, and then went further out to see even bigger whales. The weather was cold and rainy, but we were inside most of the time except when we chose to go out for picture taking. They served lunch while under way, and we looked up and found we were at the face of a stunning glacier, the kind that drops directly into the sea. It was amazing how close we were and the mass of ice before us.

On the way back we came in close to landforms rising from the seabed, covered with thousands of birds including Puffins and all sort of sea birds. It was almosy 7 p.m. by the time we reached the Seward Windsong Lodge, a beautiful place nestled in the woods just on the edge of town. By this time we were pretty worn out and decided to take a break from the scheduled tour of Seward the next day. We slept in, checked our bags through to Anchorage, and spent the free day wandering around the town, the waterfront, and learning history in the local museum/library. The trip back over to Anchorage was again in a domed car, with meals and drinks and scenery and animals all along the way. We ended up back at the Hilton for the night, unfortunately. The air conditioner would not work so we had to leave the window open. Turns out Anchorage downtown on Saturday night never quiets down even when you are 11 stories up. Sunday we were back up at the crack of dawn, and on the train heading for Denali National Park in our first class train. We rode through Wasilla, but Sarah was not home and we did not see Russia from her porch. The then on through Talkeetna and hurricane gulch and the Chugach Mountains. A lot of our arrivals were "late" by normal standards, but the sun rarely went down in Alaska during our trip before midnight and we got used to constant day. It made for long days. The Grande Denali Lodge is located on Sugarloaf Mountain just outside the national park border. It was peak season for the park, and tours run anytime there is daylight. Ours began at 6:45 a.m. and took us about 40 miles inside the park, a shortened tour because of winter road damage. The ride into the park was as spectacular as you would expect, with eveyone wondering if we would get to see the big mountain. 70% of the time it is hidden behind clouds and that had been the case for some time.

When we got to the end of our road we actually could see portions of the mountain side white in the distance, with clouds hiding the peaks. The tour guide suggested "photoshopping" our pictures if we chose by snapping a picture of a post card from a clear day. A local tribal member met us in the park for a talk about the native cultures, and we visited one of the pioneer cabins along the way once used by railroad builders and hunters. On Tuesday we had the morning to check out the park Visitor Center and get back on the train for our last trip to Anchorage. The lodge took care of our bags and checked them through for us. One more grand train excursion through the wild country and we were back in the Hilton for our last night. They could not find the reservation for a while, which was about what I had come to expect. On Wednesday we got a cab to the airport, where the efficiency of Alaska Airlines was a welcome contrast to the confusion of the Hilton. One night spent at the San Francisco Airport, and we had an easy drive home.

Observations: Alaska Airlines was a pleasure to deal with. They have gone iPhone crazy (check in online) but it works, the staff was helpful and even the airport food was decent. We would use them again. America Rail Tours that put together the package, travel, small tours, hotels, was well cordinated and planned. We would use them again. The best hotel, probably, was the Alyeska Lodge, where we barely had time to sleep. Apparently a room for the night costs about $600. The worst hotel was the Hilton. No shuttles. Poorly trained desk clerks, who made mistakes that costs us time. No shuttle service, which costs even more money. Our favorite hotel was the Seward Windsong Lodge. Quiet, Nestled in the spruce trees and cheerful and helpful staff. Alaska Railway is a gem, an example of how a passenger railroad could be run if American cared less about cars. Food wasn't terrific, but certainly adequate. The staff was always ready to help, explain, answer or even entertain. Charming young people from all over the world. The ability to get up and move around, visit with your neighbors, and take pictures or just watch for wildlife, made it great. We met a lot of interesting people. Hard to compare the different tours since some were on river rafts, some on the ocean and some in small buses. All were good. All worthwhile. We learned something everytime. We crammed a lot into seven/eight days and perhaps should have done a bit less. But then a dinner companion said he and his wife were setting out to see every national park in Alaska, a trip that would take at least two weeks, and one of the bids from a tour company had been about$30,000. He found a better way. So did we. Our goal was to see Alaska. We saw Alaska and are glad we did. More pictures. On the river at Spencer Glacier.