MORGAN'S MOMENT...
We didn’t wear masks
        on our Mexican trip
        but a few did.
Some were more frightened
        than others…
        or just playing it safe.
People debated the question
        whether masks helped
        or whether they didn’t.
One quoted a Doctor saying
        that masks can’t stop a virus
        but might slow them down.
I thought of parents warning students
        going on Spring Break…
        “Don’t bring back the flu.”
I thought of all the parents
        who would be delighted
        if flu was all they brought back.
They may wish they’d also warned
        about the importance
        of wearing condoms as well!
I’m a thankful guy
        quite happy
        to just bring home memories.
— Art Morgan 

BOOK CORNER
    Two books for Baja – One was Earl Emerson’s “The Vanishing Smile.” He writes police/fire/detective mysteries that center in Seattle. I read everything he writes. It’s recreational.
    The other was (as mentioned on the back page) John Steinbeck’s “The Log from the Sea of Cortez.” I read it during every trip to Mexico. He combines science, philosophy, adventure – and even theology if you look for it. Only one section of philosophy is much work. Always new insights with each reading.
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MOMENT MINISTRIES
– May 9, 2009 –
    A MOMENT MINISTRIES production – Art Morgan a-morgan@peak.org
BITS AND PIECES OF A SEASON’S LEFT-OVERS

Moment Ministries operates on an academic year. My work and school year always began in the fall and wound down by summer. Still works for me.
Last Thursday “Moment” potluck is May 14. It has usually been a Cinco de Mayo theme with birthdays and other events together. It’s always been a happy time.
Moving “Headquarters” to Puget Sound happens before Memorial Day weekend. We like to beat the rush. That means that we rush through May like crazy trying to get things done. There’s a good tide that weekend for launching the sailboat. Priorities.
Publication of the Blue Sheet may continue in email form on occasions. Many are on my summer email list already. If any wish to be included let me know. There may be some on the list that don’t want to be. Alas.
I will attempt to pick out the few faithful non-email die-hards to receive an enveloped version. Amazing grace.
This aspect of summer life is not top priority. Remember sailing.
Summer Events are unpredictable. There are two beach memorial events on schedule. Hopefully that will be all of that sort of thing this summer. We usually schedule a beach neighborhood party around Jean’s birthday (July 18). Most events are happenings revolving around different people in camp.
Visitors usually give us a clue about when they might come. We have about 13 bunk spots in camp, so there’s usually a place for everyone to put down a sleeping bag. We have an “open table” that means everyone eats. It helps if people share food and bring in things they especially want to eat or drink. Very informal, and fairly primitive. Life centers around the fire pit (covered) and outdoor kitchen and decks. We do have hot showers and flush toilets.
Contact by my email or by cabin phone (253) 884-2771.
Find the place by map or GPS or Map quest at 2412 N. Herron Road, Lakebay WA  98349. I’ll email directions if needed. We expect to be at the cabin through mid-September. Those who are passing by and want to drop by for a few hours are also welcome.
Season’s ending only refers to the part of our year in Corvallis. There are some unfinished moments, people not seen, intentions not kept. Some are home bound or health bound, but I hope still connected via e-mail. The last bill (for the Easter ad) will be paid. If there is anything we forgot, let me know.
And thank you, those of you who read and keep me writing, those of you who share both joys and jolts of life with me by phone and mail and email, those of you who wrestle with knotty problems and ideas, those who journey with and without faith. Bless you. Amen!
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RETURN FROM MEXICO 2009

     Apologies to those of you who are also on my Travel List. You received much of this report, except for a couple of paragraphs about Steinbeck. I’m writing after coming home this past Wednesday May 6.
     Against all advice, especially from U.S. travel authorities, we kept faith with our deposits and took flights to our favorite “hotel” at Punta Colorada located at Baja California del Sur, Mexico. That’s 1,000 miles from where known shipments of drugs cross into the U.S. and heavy guns are sold to drug lords in Mexico, and pretty much out of radio range for news in English.
     It is also heavily impacted by news of Swine Flu although nobody has heard a cough or sneeze except from allergy-prone Americans. We saw airport people wearing masks when we flew into Cabo and some as we left. (“We” includes Ken and Marilyn Salter who got us into this habit a dozen years ago).
     We had to fill out a health report and have a temp scan before being allowed to exit. Those were the last masks we saw, even at LA, except for a young couple dutifully wearing masks (as instructed we presume) by worried parents.
     The flu warnings really impacted a marginal economy that depends heavily on American tourists who canceled in droves. Flights were light. Our “hotel” (really a modest fishing oriented motel) had few guests and very few going out in the numerous boats kept at anchor. One fly-fish guide had all of his reservations cancel. These were reservations made a year ago.
     So we had a quiet time on the beaches, with perfect weather and water for swimming each day. Plenty of siesta time for naps and reading before more walking and swimming…and eating the specially prepared meals. Jean didn’t gain anything because she walked the most. I only gained 5 pounds from this local menu. When meals are included in the price of your room what can you do?
     After telling people over and over what we do, we are still asked, “but what did you do?” We don’t need to shop so don’t need to ride the bumpy, dusty road to a nearby village community. There is no TV, except in the bar. It is usually tuned to soccer with Spanish commentators. Night life is limited to the bar, but there are few people there after our late dinner hour. Something about sunny days, outdoor living, warm evenings and starry nights invites an early bed-time. If one is still awake, there is light to read by. Who wants “virtual reality” when you have the real thing?
     We would not have been surprised to see health monitoring on arrival in LA.  We didn’t fill out any health forms, didn’t have our temperature scanned, didn’t see anyone with masks. Our planes home were full and on time (except for a slight passenger/luggage glitch in LA). That slight delay, plus the airline aim to please, allowed a special complimentary ration of libations of choice.
     We could see the sunset wind-driven fire and smoke rising out of the Santa Barbara hills as our plane lifted out of the LA basin. On arriving home we would see more news about the fire than about swine flu. Is that good?
     I always read John Steinbeck’s Nobel Prize winning “Log From the Sea of Cortez” during our times in Baja. I read it for perspective. I read it to remind myself that this beach has an unseen life. Beneath the gentle surging sea is a battle field. Each living creature has two basic drives, says Steinbeck – to survive and to procreate. Our presence is unusual. The ever-hovering buzzards remind us of how it really is.
     He doesn’t allow us to think that we can be excused from participation in the web of life. We are part of a species that is fighting extinction as is every other. He says, however, that even those who have dropped the “leading-strings of a Sunday School deity” are still under unconscious thinking that there is a plan. Steinbeck forces us to include ourselves as participants in the universe.
     There was champagne in the refrigerator, left over from Easter, that allowed us to toast a privileged moment in our life journey and to remember a few of the special moments of sunrises and sunsets in the land that is America’s largest trading partner and which buys more of Oregon’s Christmas trees than anyone. I will try to think of that when Mexicans come north to harvest the Christmas trees across our road.
     Lots for us to do before moving on to Puget Sound. A blue sheet to write. A Thursday Night Moment to do. And memories of white sand, blue water and siestas.
─ Art Morgan, May 9, 2009