Inflation is the greatest friend of debtors and the enemy of savers. Its single-minded purpose is to erode the value of assets and so makes it more difficult for the people of today to relate to the past. Recall the great scene in Austin Powers when Dr Evil, recently awakened from cryogenic freeze, demands 'one million dollars' as a ransom, little realising that this is no longer such as a vast sum of money.
Of course we can try to talk in 'today's money' but that is somewhat arbitrary and becomes out of date itself. Money is a confidence trick so if you want to protect yourself against it you need something that people will always want everywhere in the world.
In other words you want gold - highly prized throughout the ages because it is easy to work with in jewellery, non reactive and straightforward to identify. Inflation and government fiscal policy can go to Hell, human beings are always going to want gold.
Which of course is what brought non-indigenous people to California in the first place and Yosemite, our destination today, in particular.
And what a place of magnificent treasure it is. There are still parts of Yosemite that command a dollar value (since even gold has its price) including its trees, the minerals and more recently water and hydroelectric power.
But the staggering scale and beauty of the place are beyond value. Almost wherever you stand and gaze, whether at granite mountains, crashing waterfalls or giant trees you will feel exactly like everyone who has stood in that spot. You don't need anyone to translate into 1930s awe - it is the same today.
That's not to say its not changing. It is changing on a geological time scale of course but the thundering waterflows are shaping the place as you watch them. Neither is it a paradise - there are too many of us swarming about for that - but it is special place and my overriding feeling was that I could not take it all in.
I am reading 'The Behaviour of Moths' by Poppy Adams at the moment. The main character could no doubt see hundreds of distinct lives in every square foot and I feel quite the dullard that most of the life, the insects and plants, just pass me by. I can notice the deer with their amazing antlers wandering a few feet from us and the ever present squirrels (the pigeons of Yosemite). I could even notice a bear but we wouldn't be 'lucky' enough to run into one of those surely?
Here's the thing though: we had a disaster with the push-chair when one of the wheels snapped off. So we had to carry the chair back along the path and the beauty of Yosemite was replaced bt a sense of profound irritation. We stopped so J could take his pain-killers for his arms and because of that delay he saw it.
The bear was on the other side of the river and slipped into the water. It glided at speed, looking like a brown, furry crocodile. J was taking photos as quickly as he could and retraced our steps to get closer. An Asian family started running down the middle of the road away from the ursine swimmer. There was no danger though, the bear got out of the water, shook itself off and crossed the road. At the noise of an oncoming car it sped up and disappeared into the forest.
We'll order a spare wheel, who cares. But a bear! A real bear close enough to admire but far enough away to not require a change of underwear.
I know the start of the blog might seem a bit pompous but I make no apology for that. I was just talking about what I know to try to give this place the respect it is so clearly due. If you are lucky enough to go you'll see it in your own way, individual yet with a common connection to many.
If someone offered me gold or the chance to see a bear I'd choose the gold.
So, that I could have many more bear adventures in the future.
