The holy passion of Friendship is of so sweet and steady and loyal and enduring a nature that it will last through a whole lifetime – if not asked to lend money.
‒ Mark Twain
Cliff Thomas: Santa Fe, New Mexico
I’ve often wondered what kind of crazy person climbs vertical El Capitan in Yosemite, sleeps all night at the halfway point – bolted to the precipice! ‒ gets up in the morning and continues to the top. One of those crazy people is my lifelong friend, Cliff Thomas. My brother Ross and I have known Cliff since our topsy-turvy younger days in Dallas during the turbulent sixties. In 1973, he was at our wedding in Albuquerque’s Roosevelt Park. In 1982, Jaye and I moved to Santa Fe from Big D where our friend greeted us. Last year Cliff and his wonderful wife, Nez, invited us down to the Ancient City for the Sanchez Thanksgiving feast. Why not? We’re part of the family.
Cliff writes from their beautiful home overlooking an expansive view of the serene high desert, the distant purple mountains and buttes, with a majestic, cobalt sky overhead…
Cliff Thomas, email: “Pandemic. Whoa. Better look that one up. Maybe it’s not as bad as I’m thinking. Nope. Definitely that scary! Difficult to even wrap my head around. As the reality of this COVID-19 virus began to sink in and hit ever closer to home, life began to change dramatically.
“Fear: Media and politicians seem to dwell heavily on that as an attention grabber. As with other past catastrophes, government has fallen quite short of it’s role as protecting it’s people.”
“Humanity: Once again we are on our own to rally together and support each other. Families are together. Checking in with folks we appreciate and love. A common goal shared across the planet ‒ time to enjoy our humanity. Prioritize our real values. Opportunity to avoid the anxiety of Monday morning work and remember the joys of living and loving. You know, playing music on the front porch and such.
“Heroes: The selfless people out doing what needs doing, finding our grit, adapt and
overcome. We are losing loved ones. We are losing incomes. The unknowns are without precedent in our lifetimes. And yet, in the face of all the scary realities, we are resilient. We are amazing at being human. Put a challenge before us and we huddle up and kick it’s butt, because we have heart.
“Perhaps momentum of our common goal will last well into the future.”
Darryl Saffer & Diane Cirksena: Pagosa Springs, Colorado
A mutual friend, Ed Beaver, (a miscreant from Albuquerque), is being held responsible for getting us all together. It’s hard to imagine that Diane, Darryl, Jayebird and I have only been friends for a little over two years. It seems like they’ve been in our lives for ages – which is a good thing! They escaped Sarasota, Florida and settled in beautiful Pagosa Country where our lifestyle fit them like a glove. Darryl is a film maker/musician and once owned the hippest guitar shop in Dallas – Frets and Strings. He has been extensively filming and scoring the videos of Stig Dalström the Wild Orchid Man all over the world. “The future of our species hangs in the balance of how we deal with this pandemic and our environmental challenges.” ‒ Darryl Saffer
Diane, a retired School Administrator, is so happy to be in Pagosa and has joined the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, the Audubon Society and the Photo Club. She is considered a ‘nature freak’ and is a hell of a good cook! (I should know.)
Diane Cirksena, email: “We thought ourselves fortunate, Darryl and I, to escape what increasingly felt like a cultural doomsday machine: Florida. In our neighborhood the majestic live oaks were simply bulldozed in favor of yet another housing development. A Walgreens or Publix grocery sprang up on every newly paved corner. Another toll road led to the exciting riches of Naples or Miami. Orlando was a zoo of offerings to eager tourists. Darryl, a filmmaker, could no longer find a quiet place, even in the Fakahatchee or Myakka Forests. Interstate 75 was a scary experience, especially in February . . . Earth sagged under the weight of this excess while Miami found it necessary to install pumps to keep seawater from the downtown streets. The posh shopping of Sarasota’s St. Armand’s Circle was kept dry by similar pumps running 24 hours per day. We left with our dog Ranger, found a more luminous place in the mountains of Colorado, and refuge in Pagosa Springs agreed that Earth will survive, and added our voices wherever and whenever we could to make clear the devastation of humans on the planet. We were able to witness the Milky Way without streetlights, give names to the deer in our yard, and wander into the two million acres of the San Juans to witness the wildness we craved. We celebrated the 2016 election by not having network TV, choosing instead to listen to the hummingbirds and bees in our dandelions. We recycled even the few leftovers from our kitchen for eager crows and magpies.
“And yet the virus gave a wake-up call, even to us. We were quite comfortable in our expectations: there would be excellent medical care, a fully stocked market, a public library, a health club. All of these little expectations were challenged by a new order of contraction. It was as if Earth handed us a practice session for the time when climate change becomes even more than a few degrees of increased temperature and melting Arctic permafrost. This new normal was a wake-up call even for us. An elective cataract removal was canceled, a planned trip put on hold. Now, instead of preaching about pollution and over-consumption, we could live it. We were able to fully understand the truth: we are, as humans, the leftovers. We would regret a “return to normal,” because normal in this culture is super-charged with consumerism and constant “growth.”
Darryl Saffer, email: “I am very fortunate to live in Pagosa with my amazing wife surrounded by the San Juans. My life has changed only slightly since I retired from the Education Channel four years ago. Now I’m shooting (with a camera) with my wife or alone and editing my own projects at home. I do miss seeing our close friends and dining out.
“The folks in my field, wildlife and environmental film, have seen this coming. When a species exceeds the carrying capacity of its ecosystem, Nature corrects. The fear is that this virus is a warning. We must change our relationship with the planet and all living things. Up until this time, we are a failed species. Our lives are based on fear and greed. We settle disputes with violence and war. We pit ethnic, biological, cultural and economic groups against one another at the urging of our political and religious leaders.
“Even now facing the greatest global threat in our lifetime, we have broken into factions. This has to stop for the sake of our future.
“Fortunately we are seeing heroes step forward. In the health care facilities, in the food supply chain, and everyone who takes this threat seriously are all putting the safety of the community as a priority. That is how our species survived this long and will hopefully continue to survive in a wiser, gentler and happier world.”
Mark Mendleski: Corpus Christie, Texas
One of my favorite people in the world, Marco is a retired musician and full-time beach bum. He lives in Corpus Christie with his charming girlfriend, Chris Hungate, who is a Critical Care Educator “working in the middle of it!” In the late eighties, Mark and I, along with guitar slinger, Chris Donahoe, played in the Classic Rock band ‒ the Ravin’ Brothers ‒ in Santa Fe, and then again in the mid-nineties. Mark is upset about the crisis, and rightly so: “I have a friend that got the virus and was on a ventilator for 10 days. Luckily, he survived.”
Mark Mendleski, FB Messenger: “Okay. Let’s start with yesterday – May Day. Our governor lifted all restrictions. Everything was opened.
“Today, I went to the beach. The shit hit the fan! It took me three times as long to get there and it’s more crowded than the 4th of July. Everyone is happy to see you and they want to get up close and personal. They’re coming in from out-of-town, places like Houston and Dallas, and they’re coming from all over the country.
“All the hotels are open!”
“Stupidity is running amuck. Social distancing is out of your control. It’s like you have no power over your own health and wellness. I am afraid of what’s to come. I think it’s a bad time to start a recovery. I could have stayed at home today ‒ bad judgment on my part.
“I hope everyone stays safe. And if I get this ‘garbage’ [COVID-19] ‒ please know I love you all.
“PS: I did not go political on this; that would be another chapter.”
DC has been a frustrated musician for over fifty years, and now has decided to become a frustrated writer. Learn more at DCDuncan.com. He’ll keep you posted.