Growing up in Germany in the 60s, every boy worth his salt would read the stories of Karl May The school library had a full set of his travel stories – somewhere around 70 – and I believe, I read them all. Many of my schoolmates must have also been worth their salt, because books were often out and you had to wait and visit the library often, to get the book you hadn’t read yet.
One story (maybe several – I don’t completely remember) played in the Llano Estacado. It was described as a big, flat, and featureless area in America. Water was hard to come by and it was dangerous to reach the few and far between watering holes.
To assist, stakes had been set along the path to guide the traveler, therefore llano estacado – the staked plane. Sandstorms often made the crossing even more dangerous, but even in a storm the two to three-meter high stakes would guide a trek. (Yes, even more than a century ago, Germans used the metric system.)
The stories were adventure stories, so they needed villains. They enter the Llano Estacados as gangsters that pull out a series of stakes and set them in a direction leading into the void instead of to the next watering hole. The poor traveler following those stakes ended up in the middle of the dry desert and died of thirst – only to be robbed by the gangsters without any danger to them – because they knew where the watering hole was and had plenty of water for themselves.
I do not remember how the story’s hero, Old Shatterhand, dealt with the hoodlums but, knowing Karl May, it was most likely that they were punished by the wrath of god.
Even if I don’t remember the outcome of the story, I do remember the Llano Estacado after so many decades. It made a strong impression on that young teenager, who, at that time, never imagined that he once would cross that Llano himself. Today I helped to plan a trip to Llano, Texas, and I decided that it really is time to research that good old Llano Estacado.
And – as you see in the picture above – the stakes are still there, just a bit taller and now with wires connecting their tops – – I can only imagine preventing hooligans from re-staking them to misguide the traveler. – – Oh, yes, and the paths are paved now!
1. Only in America……. can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.
2. Only in America……. are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.
3. Only in America….. do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.
4. Only in America……. do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a diet coke.
5. Only in America……. do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters.
6. Only in America……. do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.
7. Only in America……. do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won’t miss a call from someone we didn’t want to talk to in the first place.
8. Only in America….. do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.
9. Only in America…… do we use the word ‘politics’ to describe the process so well: ‘Poli’ in Latin meaning ‘many’ and ‘tics’ meaning ‘bloodsucking creatures’.
10. Only in America…… do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.
(You may listen to the story below, read it – if you can – or emerse yourself completely by listening and reading along…)
In the early 60s (of the last century) my parents bought a little vacation retreat in Spain some 80 kilometers down the coast from Barcelona. My dad really wanted it partially because it was sold as an investment to make money. Looking back, it might have been the leading edge of the wave of today’s timeshares. Mom thought it was a scam and had written off the FIVE-THOUSAND Marks (!) – a huge investment for my parents at that time when the monthly mortgage for their house was one hundred and twenty-seven marks.
But it turned out to be real, and my parents got themselves a ‘bungalow’ 1700 km away from home. That was quite a trip at a time when only Germany had its Autobahn, but there were no other freeways in France and Spain on the way to ‘Torredembarra’ to speak of.
I spend quality time there on several occasions – I considered it my second home. Took my first big love there right after we met and took her there shortly before she dumped me.
Then I took my next big love, occasionally she was a bit jealous because she was not the first one there with me, but it all turned out OK because the last ever trip to Spain, before we left Europe altogether for a new adventure in the new world, was with her as my wife. It was a surprise visit to my parents who now spend several months at a time in a better climate than the one in the middle of Germany.
My wife and I had gotten caught up in a cult in the good old US of A. My entanglement only lasted about a year, but it cost me my marriage and the poor wife is still in there as far as I know. Escaping the cult, with my tail between my legs, I went home to my parents – at least I wanted to, but when I was just breaking all the bridges with the cult behind me I received a letter (yes, that was a thing) from my parents, that they were about to get on the way to Spain.
So, no going back to my parents! The alternative was to go to the parents-in-law, who still loved me and whom I still loved, and who were probably were not quite aware of the circumstances that had developed in California.
Just getting out of a cult, finances were rather tight, but to my credit, I have to say that I never was one of those cult members who immediately gave everything to the guru. I still had my Ford LTD station wagon, safely (or so I thought) parked in the public parking of the cult, and I had maintained my own bank account with some green-bucks. Still, I got the cheapest flight to Europe. $225 on People Express to Amsterdam. All went well getting into Shiphol, but I had not considered that there would be a problem to rent a car to cross the border from Holland to Germany. The only viable solution I found was to take a Lufthansa flight from Shiphol to Hannover, about 330 km for nearly the same price as the flight from LA to Amsterdam.
In Hannover, I could rent a car and so I finally arrived at my in-laws, disillusioned by the cult, with many broken dreams, without my wife, and a really bad case of athletes foot from the cult’s community showers.
During the three weeks it took me to bring back my feet to good health, I built myself up emotionally, started to make plans for the future, and got ready to finally visit my parents.
In Bielefeld, I got on the train to Spain – on the Train to Spain – hmm, that rhymes!
Flying was not really an option, as at that time – the later part of the 80s – cheap city-to-city flights had not been invented, and Lufthansa to Barcelona would have strained my resources too much. So, it was two days of rocking and shaking trains, only sometimes with a seat all for myself, but also sometimes curling up on my suitcase in the gangway connection between two cars, in an attempt to get some shut-eye.
After many different trains at many different railway stations, I finally got off at the train station in Torredembarra, Spain. I invested a few Pesetas for a taxi ride to my parents’ bungalow. I only knew how to get there but did not know any address, so I had to tell the driver, left here, then right, then left again, and so on. I really never knew the official address of the house, but it had a number – later photos indicated that it was something like 35 II, and the street something like ‘Clara del Sol’. But my Spanish was good enough for ‘a la izquierda’ and ‘a la derecha’.
It was quite some surprise – they imagined me in California, in fact, had sent a letter there a few weeks ago, and waiting for an answer, and there this guy gets out of a cab in front of their house in a little cul-de-sac.
And that should be my last time in Spain in that little bungalow. Eventually, I made it back to California and rebuild my life, something that might deserve a few other stories.
A few years after these events, my parents sold the little house but some good memories stayed with me. With the advent of Google Maps and street view, I tried a few times to re-trace my way from the train station to our little sanctuary, but there were so many changes that I did not recognize the area anymore and just could not find that little cul-de-sac.
Until – yesterday! A little village a bit off the coast, and as such mostly left alone by tourists in the initial waves of German vacationers, had been our place of choice for shopping for groceries and wine. Pobla de Montornes itself was also unrecognizable for me on Street View, but the road connecting Pobla and Torredembarra was there and not likely changed during the last forty years, so I – virtually – drove this road from Pobla down towards the coast. I knew that I had to take a turn left to get to our little street, but all the streets going left looked unfamiliar, and I had tried in the past to just follow them but always had ended up in completely unfamiliar territory.
Again – until yesterday! I must have dismissed that left turn-off previously, but following it this time, things looked more familiar. And – suddenly – I stood in front of ‘our bungalow’. Sure, a garage had been added, the fence had been upgraded, the street number had changed, and vegetation was totally different, but it was undoubtedly ‘our house’.
The Google car even caught an older couple in the yard, which could have been my parents, but aren’t. Should they have been reborn, they would be much younger, and I don’t think they would go back to the place that made them work really hard initially.
In order to never ever lose that location, I put it on the internet, because nothing ever gets lost on the internet.
Karin and yours truly visiting the parents in Clara – mid 80sPlantation Owners – early 80sThen Clara del Sol 35 II – now Carrer de Fortuny 9 – early 80sYours Truly – end 70sYours truly in 1974 during a 2-month stayWhat a difference a few years of working makes – Late 60s‘The Bungalow’ at the time of purchase – mid 60s
Is it truely possible to – objectively – view situations and conditions?
We perceive everything subjectively because our perception is altered according to our ‘perception filter’, which are directly dependent upon our thoughts, emotions and experiences.
This means that we do not experience changes in the ‘outside’, as long as we don’t change ourselves.
We always see ourselves – in every situation!
The (self-created) reality is therefore always essential for our life.
In fact, much of the world affairs therefore turn to good account.
This applies to those individuals who understood that we create our own reality.
Therefore it is possible to live a wonderful life amidst total chaos, without being stirred by collective limitations.
One of my oldest WP blogs got hacked – yeah – I know – why do they do that?
phpMyAdmin
I had kept everything nicely up-to-date, but as it was such an old blog, the password I had chosen when I set up the MySQL database for it initially, was – admittedly – cute, but not particularly secure.
So, I went to Ms. Google to find out how to change the password of my WP Database – but without luck. There were plenty of tutorials on how the change the password of a WP user – but that is easy, no need for a tutorial there.
Learned quite a bit when I ran into some instructions on how to do this with the command line mysql command (you have to start the mysql service first), but still ran into a problem updating the password. But with the information from that post I finally managed to do it from phpMyAdmin.
Here we go:
Log into phyMyAdmin as the root user
Go to the mysql database (yes, the database is a user of mysql)
Find the table user (I first could not find it but had to open views – and then it appeared)
Find the user with the name of your database user you chose when you set up it up. That’s the DB_USER parameter in your wp-config.php.
Click on that user and a new screen opens Edit privileges: User account ‘yourdb_wp’@’localhost’
And there you finally find the button ‘Change password’ at the top of the screen.
… and to a big degree your son – we don’t want to be discriminative, do we?
Make your bed every day, even if it’s right before you get in it.
Don’t wear holey underwear…in case you’re in an accident and they cut your clothes off.
Travel light through life. Keep only what you need.
It’s okay to cry when you’re hurt. It’s also okay to smash (some) things; but, wash your face, clean your mess, and get up off the floor when you’re done. You don’t belong down there.
If you’re going to curse, be clever. If you’re going to curse in public, know your audience.
Seek out the people and places that resonate with your soul.
Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
Five-second rule. It’s just dirt. There are worse things in a fast food cheeseburger.
Happiness is not a permanent state. Wholeness is. Don’t confuse these.
If you’re staying more than one night, unpack your bag.
Never walk through an alley alone.
Be less sugar, more spice, and only as nice as you’re able to without compromising yourself.
Can’t is a cop-out.
Hold your heroes to a high standard. Be your own hero.
If you can’t smile with your eyes, don’t smile. Insincerity is nothing to aspire to.
Never lie to yourself.
Your body, your rules.
If you have an opinion, you better know why.
Practice your passions.
Ask for what you want. The worst thing they can say is no.
Wish on stars and dandelions, then get to work to make them happen.
Stay as sweet as you are.
Fall in love often. Particularly with ideas, art, music, literature, food and far-off places.
Fall hard and forever in love with nothing but yourself.
Say Please, Thank You, and Pardon Me, whenever the situation warrants it.
Reserve “I’m sorry” for when you truly are.
Naps are for grown-ups, too.
Question everything, except your own intuition.
You have enough. You are enough.
You are amazing! Don’t let anyone ever make you feel you are not. If someone does….walk away. You deserve better.
No matter where you are, you can always come home.
Be happy and remember your roots, family is EVERYTHING.
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
No one will ever love you more than I do.
Be kind; treat others how you would like them to treat you.
If in doubt, remember whose daughter you are and straighten your crown.
… better known as Mark Twain, whose stories of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn I LIVED when I was a kid.
Here’s a bit of his wisdom:
“A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.”
“A wise man does not waste so good a commodity as lying for naught.”
“Action speaks louder than words but not nearly as often.”
“All generalizations are false, including this one.”
“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.”
“Do not have sex with a girl who is too strongly attached to you. If this attachment is not mutual, trust me it ends breaking plates on your head.”
“Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.”
“Don’t wrestle with pigs. you both get dirty and the pig likes it.”
“Each man is afraid of his neighbor’s disapproval – a thing which, to the general run of the human race, is more dreaded than wolves and death.”
“Every person is a book, each year a chapter.”
“Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
“Give every day the chance to become the most beautiful day of your life.”
“Human beings are the only creatures who blush – or who need to.”
“I can teach anybody how to get what they want out of life. The problem is that I can’t find anybody who can tell me what they want.”
“I deal with temptation by yielding to it.”
“I find that the further I go back, the better things were, whether they happened or not.”
“If you don’t read the newspaper, you’re uninformed. if you do, you’re misinformed.”
“If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.”
“If you want love and abundance in your life, give it away.”
“It takes your enemy and your friend, working together, to hurt you to the heart: the one to slander you and the other to get the news to you.”
“Its not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”
“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”
“Knowledge becomes wisdom only after it has been put to good use.”
“Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that makes you smile.”
“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
“Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”
“One can enjoy a rainbow without necessarily forgetting the forces that made it.”
“Only he who has seen better days and lives to see better days again knows their full value.”
“Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason.”
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
“The more I know people, the more I love my dog.”
“The most permanent lessons in morals are those which come, not of book teaching, but of experience.”
“The secret of getting ahead is getting started. The secret of getting started is breaking your complex overwhelming tasks into small manageable tasks, and starting on the first one.”
“The trouble is not in dying for a friend, but in finding a friend worth dying for.”
“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”
“To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence.”
“When your opinions start to coincide with those of the majority, it is time to reconsider your opinions.”
“Work and play are words used to describe the same thing under differing conditions.”
“You meet people who forget you. you forget people you meet. But sometimes you meet those people you can’t forget. Those are your friends.”
“You want to be very careful about lying, otherwise you are nearly sure to get caught.”
Blogs sometimes die, or are so far abandoned that they are dead for all intents and purposes.
But there are still visitors as long as it shows up in Google, and some of those will enjoy the content immensely, so much as to write a comment. I don’t subscribe to the idea of nay sayers who assume that those visitors only leave these comments because they hope for a back link to their spammy sight – or worse, that they are evil AI bots!
I just believe that they really like my content – even if that content might be simply “coming soon…”
Here are a few of those cherished comments (unedited, only removed the link to their own website):
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(A little gem I found in the couch cushions of my hard drive)…
Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’98:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
