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About Alan O’Hashi, Whole Brain Thinker

I’ve been involved with community journalism since 1968 when I wrote for my junior school paper, the "Tumbleweed," through high school and college and then wrote for the "Wyoming State Journal." I put aside my newspaper pen and began Boulder Community Media in 2005. There wasn’t much community journalism opportunity, so I resurrected my writing career as a screenwriter. My first short screenplay, “Stardust”, won an award in the 2005 Denver Screenwriting Center contest. I've made a number of movies over the years. Filmmaking is time-consuming, labor and equipment intensive. I recently changed my workflow to first write a book and make a movie based on that content. - Electric Vehicle Anxiety and Advice - This is a memoir travelogue of three trips covering 2,600 EV miles around Wyoming (2022) - Beyond Heart Mountain - Winter Goose Publishers released my memoir in February (2022) - The Zen of Writing with Confidence and Imperfection - This is a book recounting how luck planed into my signing a book deal after a 15-minute pitch meeting. (2020) - True Stories of an Aging Baby Boomer - War stories about living in a cohousing and lessons others can learn when starting their communities (2021) - Beyond Sand Creek - About Arapaho tribal efforts to repatriate land in Colorado (PBS - TBA) - Beyond Heart Mountain - Based on my memoir about my childhood in Cheyenne facing overt and subtle racism toward the Japanese following World War II (PBS - 2021) - New Deal Artist Public Art Legacy - About artists who created work in Wyoming during the Great Depression (PBS - 2018) - Mahjong and the West - SAG indie feature which premiered at the semi-important Woodstock Film Festival (2014) Over the years, I’ve produced directed, filmed and/or edited several short movies, “Running Horses” (Runner Up – Wyoming Short Film Contest), “On the Trail: Jack Kerouac in Cheyenne” (Lowell Celebrates Kerouac Festival, Top 10 Wyoming Short Film Contest), “Gold Digger” (Boulder Asian Film Festival), “Adobo” (Boulder International Film Festival), “A Little Bit of Discipline” (Rosebud Film Series), and two feature length documentaries “Your Neighbor’s Child” (Wyoming PBS and Rocky Mountain PBS), and “Serotonin Rising” (American Film Market, Vail Film Festival). He also directed and produced the award winning stage play “Webster Street Blues” by my childhood friend Warren Kubota. Boulder Community Media is a non-profit production company dedicated to democratzing media in all their forms - large and small screens, printed page and stage by providing sustainable and community-based content. I mostly work with community-based media producers, organizations, and socially-responsible businesses to develop their content via – the written word, electronic and new media, the visual and performing arts in a culturally competent manner – I’m what’s commonly called a niche TV and movie producer. Along with all this is plying my forte’ – fund development through grant writing, sponsorship nurturing and event planning.

Deterring gun violence with anti-abortion tactics

Mental health and how that relates to gun violence needs a new story.

One commonly held answer to gun violence is more mental health services and access to them. American culture has a long way to go before “mental health” is socially acceptable.

I look forward to the day when Americans throw as much money at mental health services as we do to, say, cancer cures. I’m one who believes my own observations. I find it interesting that if a person gets cancer, they get all jazzed up and create organizations, help raise millions of dollars through walks and pink shirt sales, not just once, not occasionally, but all the time. About all I see or hear about mental health issues are “pass it on” facebook posts about asking suicidal people to call a hotline.

As a fundraiser myself, I’m amazed at how successful the cancer industrial complex is at growing and maintaining its donor base.

I also was the development director for a domestic violence prevention organization. Being one of very few straight men in that field, was an eyeopener for me.

Over the years I’ve raised a lot of money for a vastly diverse number of causes. Violence prevention was by far the most difficult, yet the most rewarding for me.

My observation, the cultural barrier is a dominant society that values men more than women and children.

Cancer cells don’t talk back, they have no faces. Cancer cells kill everyone regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation or shoe size – one size fits all.

Gender based violence is 85 percent more likely to be committed by a male, regardless of whether a victim is a man or woman. Of the recent mass murderer events – I lose track of the numbers – 100 percent were committed by men.

It’s no wonder the mental health industry has a tough time gaining traction. “He was an orphan” the newscaster says of the shooter. “He was a problem child” the next talking head reports.

When was the last time you read, “Those ovarian cancer tumors, they had troubled lives” or “If only that breast cancer cell grew up in a better part of the body” – cancer has no face, it’s easy to say “We want to stomp out cancer in our lifetime.” There are no nonprofits out there advocating for more cancer.

When bad guys are turned into victims, it’s not so easy to say “We want to stomp out men who, for whatever reasons, kill people with guns,” and raise money and supporters around that. There happen to be many nonprofits that do advocate for men to buy guns and kill people (women and girls buy guns, but they don’t go shooting up schools).

Violence is a problem we men have to own. If you’re a second amendment zealot, it doesn’t matter. If your kid was murdered in Parkland, it doesn’t matter.

What matters is, while men are more likely to commit violent acts, the vast majority of us don’t. What men have in common, we want a safe community where we can live, work and play.

The conversations should be around how pro-gun advocates and anti-gun advocates can keep us all safe.

With 300 million firearms in American homes today, talk of banning gun and ammo is a nonstarter, at best.

What about a new market driven story that deters gun sales?

The “more good guys with guns” sales pitch is effective. After every mass shooting, gun sales spike.

My sales idea is to treat gun purchases like some states treat abortion procedure sales. Abortion surgery can’t be outlawed, but cultural impediments can be put in the way.

After a gun purchaser puts in for a background check and a thorough mental health screening, then a three day waiting period prospective buyers have to watch a video.

INT. SCHOOL CLASSROOM, DAY

ALARM BELLS clang, general chaos and disorder ensues. Distraught TEACHERS wielding hand guns step around student bodies strewn on the floor.

CLOSE UP: Bloody blobs of dead student protoplasm oozesout of multiple gunshot wounds onto school room floors.

CUT TO: sobbing little kids with blood stained shirts trembling in shock waiting in the cordoned off parking lot.

CUT TO: a montage of moms crying behind the wheels of their vans and SUVs rushing to the school.

CUT TO: a mom in a dimly lit morgue.

CLOSE UP: The medical examiner lifts the shroud covering the face of a lifeless body.

FADE TO BLACK

What a long strange trip it still is – aging and the power of my cohousing community

Auntie Jeannie is standing on the right end next to my mother. Alison is sitting second from the right, Alison's sister Leslie is being held by Auntie Elsie.

Auntie Jeannie is standing on the right end next to my mother. Alison is sitting second from the right, Alison’s sister Leslie is being held by Auntie Elsie.

My 82 year old Uncle Tom fell after getting off a four-wheeler. He was in the hospital for a short period of time. My cousin Margo called to let me know Tom died. I stopped at the hospital and saw him and had a chance to catch up with my cousins. My condolences go out to Margo, Kathy and Bobbi – they are all pictured in the photo on the left.

Margo’s phone call reminded me about a story from a few years ago.

_______________________________

October 29, 2016 – I got a call from my cousin, Alison, yesterday. These days, whenever relatives call, there’s generally some sort of family emergency. This time, Alison told me her mother – my Auntie Jeannie – had passed away. She had a stroke while sleeping and didn’t wake up. My condolences go out to my cousins Alison and Leslie and her sisters Carol Lou and Janice.

I’ve been attending funerals lately. Last week, it was for Eastern Shoshone tribal elder and one of my mentors Starr Weed in Fort Washakie.

It was my first open casket wake. I don’t know what I expected, but it was solemn and heart breaking. One of Starr’s grandsons, Layha Spoonhunter, was one of my Wind River Tribal College film students. His class project was an oral history of Starr Weed. I felt for him and his mom, Wilma, who is married to my former boss, Harvey, and his aunt Elaine who organizes the Gift of the Waters Pageant in Thermopolis.

A month or so ago, my Uncle Rich died. He had quite a few home health care workers supporting him after he returned from the hospital. He was a 442nd war veteran and in Army Intelligence. He was too small in stature for combat. I also learned after he died, my Aunt Sadako was moved to an assisted living place in Cheyenne.

I live in the Silver Sage Village senior cohousing community in North Boulder. There have been murmurs about it, but just recently the community began discussing “aging in community” which has been on my mind quite a bit, lately.

I’m making a documentary movie about my and my neighbors’ experiences of growing old in cohousing and their thoughts about the future. I’m also helping produce a national conference on the topic that will be held next year May 19 to 21 in Salt Lake City.

My movie won’t be anything earth shattering, but hopefully will give others wanting to start up an intentional community some insight into what to expect. These discussions are about the first ones we’ve had in the five years I’ve been living at Silver Sage Village where the topic has been about something more substantive than maintaining the buildings.

A bunch of people are reading “Being Mortal” by a doctor named Atul Gawande. His basic premise is that modern medicine is good about keeping people alive, while not knowing when it’s time to allow us to die not in a hospital but at home.

Gawande says that in the past, 80 percent of people used to die at home and 20 percent died in a hospital or medical facility. Now that number is reversed with 80 percent dying in a hospital and 20 percent dying at home.

Back to Auntie Jeannie.

I also learned that at 77, she was one of the primary care givers to my Auntie Elsie, well into her 90s. A few months ago, she broke her hip and Jeannie got her settled into a rehab / hospice center as well as helping Sadako get settled into her assisted living apartment. I surmise that what happened was Uncle Rich’s home care workers also did more for Sadako than anyone realized.

I imagine with all this care giving Jeannie was a bit stressed out.

Elders providing care for other elders is becoming common place anymore and a problem.

I can see myself in that boat particularly since my immediate family is strewn all over the place with their own lives and issues and I have no kids.

Like in Jeannie’s case, the work takes more out of the care giver than the patient.

Cohousing is a way to spread some of the load.

Jeannie was married to my Uncle Jake who was the youngest son on my dad’s side that had 13 total kids. It was a very strong extended family and everything revolved around my grand parents house.

Mainly during the summers, everyone would gather various places in Cheyenne and along with the rest of the Japanese community. On Memorial Day there were big picnics and on the 4th of July we all went out to Jeannie’s parents who lived out in the country and blasted off fireworks.

Back then, all the cousins were close, and all the aunts and uncles were close but there was a big diaspora after the grand parents died. We all became adults, had our own lives and lost the closeness we shared as children. Social media has helped keep us connected, but it’s still not the same as it was.

How do more seniors get engaged as caregivers for one another?

I had a brush with death and had a visit from the Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come and got a glimpse into my future. What if I couldn’t walk, feed myself, or breathe on my own, flat on my back in a hospital bed?

I can tell you it was lonely.

The hospital was 20 miles away and the rehab place 40 miles away in Denver. I didn’t broadcast that I was laid up but a few neighbors and friends managed to find out and dropped by. I thought it would be a good time to catch up on some editing.

I didn’t realize how doped up I was. A guy can only watch so many “Pawn Stars” reruns before boredom sets in.

I’m happy that I got a second chance to do things differently the next time around. I am grateful to be living at a place like Silver Sage Village. At the urging of Diana Helzer, we sold a place nearby with too many stairs in favor of Silver Sage Village that is on the ground floor with no steps and is fully accessible.

I really didn’t know much of anything about cohousing but am lucky to have neighbors who helped out by bringing by food and helping Diana with some of the care giving like transport in the dead of winter.

The downside of living in cohousing is antithetical to any care giving.

There are many conflicts about the day – to – day management of the place that arise and escalate, some cause hard feelings, but that’s part of life anywhere and shows how fragile community living can be among a whole variety of personality types. The differences seem more pronounced since everyone also is trying to get along.

In my experience, those sorts of relationships have been more work related, but much of living in cohousing is work related and I’ve had to learn how to separate out my personal life here from my business life here.

When I returned to Silver Sage Village after six weeks of hospital and rehab stints, I don’t know how it happened, but neighbors brought by meals and offers of help. I don’t know if neighborliness can be “organized” but however it came about was greatly appreciated. That, along with the layout of the fully accessible condo, was important in my continuing recovery.

It takes a village to raise a child but also takes a village to move an elder towards the end of life.

I don’t expect my neighbors to help me into the shower, or wipe my butt, but I hope they’ll continue to mostly be around.

Gawande talks about the importance of hospice that helps a person be comfortable and provides ways to navigate life.

Do I want my friends and family to be hovering over me out of some sort of self serving sense of duty when I’m delirious and out of it? Is that quality time to be with someone at the last breath?

I’ve put myself into self-imposed hospice now while I still have plenty of breaths left and want to be comfortable in my house living life to it’s fullest. I’d rather be around family and friends while we still have our wits about us.

Here I thought I was out of the event planning business.

Look out for the “Getting the Band Back Together Tour” truckin’ into a town year you – the Cousins Reunion; Cheyenne, Gillette, Lander, Boulder and points in between.

What a long strange trip it still is!

Is refusing to sell a gentile kosher wine, kosher?

I heard off-Passover season wine has corn syrup. 

Wearing my Christmas cap, I went to my usual liquor store. The store is handy – a couple blocks away.

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah – I celebrate the Jewish holidays and asked if he had kosher wine for the community candle lighting.

He said not and I went to the next store down and there was an ample selection.

The question is, if my neighborhood guy does carry Manischewitz but didn’t sell it to me because I wasn’t Jewish is that a violation of my civil rights?