Don's Tuesday Column

  THE WAY I SEE IT by Don Polson Red Bluff Daily News 7/30/2024

        Campsite, picnic table ruminations

Our second week at Honeyman State Park, in Oregon’s coastal dunes recreation area, went like this: Our view continues to be like what we would have if our motorhome was a tree house, looking down on campers. In reality, our site is on an upper ring and the foliage shields us from neighbors so the only other campers we see are 15-feet below us.

A visual picture; see if you can imagine it: Trees rising about 200 feet straight up from trunks up to 5-feet in diameter right in our campsite. Much of the trees’ branches and needles are in the upper reaches, so when winds blow off the ocean and over the dunes, the tops swing up to 10 feet or more from side to side.

One’s neck strains to look that high straight up; it’s almost like trees are swaying to music. As the sun lowers in the west, the rays slant through the forest, creating patterns of light on trunks and lower foliage that are like a dance of nature in the wind.

The natural curtains do not, however, insulate us from the endless sounds of campers whose conversations carry, creating a cacophony of voices and sounds. Given the large number of families and groups, with youths of various ages, and the start of a trail across the road from our site, their comings and goings are noticed, and the apparent joy folks have being in nature on vacation.

Adults with their chitter-chatter; kids trying to imitate adults; teenagers (who are usually absent from the forest service campgrounds we like) enjoying their independence—it’s all interesting. However, when the rushing sounds of wind in the trees die down, a retreat from the noise to the motorhome is needed.

About that trail up to the dunes: I can’t get the “Invaders from Mars” movies (the 1953 original and the 1986 remake) out of my mind. A boy sees an alien spacecraft land in the sand dunes behind his house and tries to get anyone, including his own parents, to believe him.

Then he notices personality changes in adults from his father to teachers and police, who all have an unexplained recent scar on the back of their necks. The enduring image on posters for the movie was the path up the hill to the sand dunes. For sci-fi fans, they are classic; I can only hope nothing of the sort is in our dunes.

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As I’ve noted, access to the internet via Barb’s phone hot spot is iffy; it’s best between 2 and 8 AM. However, the other day, she yelled from the picnic table that she had 5G; I turned my new laptop on to check news and emails. Finding that a Trump rally was starting in Michigan, I tried the link; it was good.

One of the live feeds was clear and uninterrupted. Gobsmacked, I took the laptop out to the picnic table and thanked HP for a battery that lasts hours, the likely length of President Trump’s speech. He’d been speaking for about 20 minutes but thankfully I could scroll back to the start.

Previously, we were watching his Butler, PA speech at home in Bend, OR; we saw the crushing, shocking and dastardly attempt to assassinate Donald Trump. When we saw him rise, surrounded by Secret Service, blood running down his cheek, fist in the air, yelling “Fight, fight, fight,” a wave of gratitude overwhelmed us. Our prayers rose to the heavens and God above for his safety and healing. Amen. ‘Nuff said.

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My comments about Joe Wong contained mistaken wording. I meant to convey that Joe was all business, even on a cruise that he won for his Burger King stores’ performance. That’s not a slam but an observation that applies to just about any business man or woman who, like Joe Wong, sink their resources, endless time and energy into building a product or service—in his case, both—when success can be tenuous. It takes a 24/7, 365 days a year obsession; Joe Wong simply accepted only high standards.

Profitability can be an elusive thing; a lesson taught to sales reps (I was one) for food companies is to watch for signs that a restaurant is suffering sales declines. You see, they get cash up front for their sales but can string payments out for a month; if they go under you don’t want thousands of dollars of material sold to go unreimbursed.

With my experience in managing such restaurants, I could have gathered some capital and started a business, but I honestly preferred to have a schedule, a salary and be a steward over someone else’s store. For Joe Wong to have worked at, and tended to, growing chains of various franchises was a testament to what some of the best in other nations come to America for: opportunities to build something that they call their own and point to with pride. Again, rest in peace, Joe Wong.