The road less cycled

I don’t these days have a great deal of time for reading; really much of my reading is done while waiting for or on buses, or when I’m simply too distracted to focus on my assignments. When I do find the time to do some reading, I’ve been sticking my head into E.F. Schumacher’s “Small is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered,” and putting more time into it than I should be as exam season nears, not because I have so much time, but because it’s a topic which resonates so powerfully with me at the moment. It’s more the “Small is Beautiful” than the Economics….part that attracted me to this title, as I’m not necessarily looking for economic insights; rather for philosophical ones. I wouldn’t even be able to pinpoint how this book came into my consciousness; it was suddenly just there and I ordered it. I knew it existed and who wrote it, even though I hadn’t recently saw a review of it or had a friend recommend it, or anything like that. I think I had marked it into my subconscious as an important title to read, and it spontaneously arose recently.

Why is this title so intriguing to me? I was led into wanting to further explore this concept by Arundhati Roy’s “The God of Small Things,” a book I didn’t even finish, but gleaned some pretty important stuff from; one central insight in particular. In her novel (and it’s a unique accomplishment for her to weave a philosophical plank into a work of fiction), a chaotic, disorganized, random (read realistic) story is woven of a complicated set of family relationships, violence, overlaid by political and economic theory. [SPOILER ALERT]Some very disheartening things take place, extremely regretful things, and one of the twins in the novel becomes mute as a result of the turmoil. Towards the end, characters are intentionally withdrawing themselves, retracting, from the chaotic interplay of macr0-events beyond their control, and focusing just on the things that they can control: the small things that are really important in life; laughter about the little things in the knowledge that they pale in comparison to the world outside; that terrible things are happening and have happened, things that involvement in brings too much sadness.

My life to date has been a relative cakewalk. I’ve had things extremely easy, even in comparison to other people in my community sphere who by all accounts are fairly well off. There was no family turmoil; the bills were always paid; and I wasn’t shuffled from school to school or family to family. Even so, as I learn about the way that the world works and I realize how incredibly fortunate I have been to live where I do, I see how convoluted this world of 7 billion of us really is, and how much deceipt, corruption, and half-truth is ingrained into the system. I see how desensitized and apathetic so much of the populace is; how uninformed and overworked so many are, and sometimes, I do despair of this state of affairs. It is a difficult to hear of how Thoreau’s haunts in Maine are being turned into subdivisions as I write; how the Pacific Coast’s salmon stocks appear to be heading down the exact same path as the Atlantic cod stocks (do we humans never learn? are we capable of resisting the relentless momentum to grow, grow, grow, expand, expand, expand?), how we spend billions lining the pockets of vaccination companies in response to threats which scarcely rival hosts of other, less hyped, mortality threats, a symptom of our fixation with the almighty buck and the corruption that I mentioned.

In light of these things, it becomes extremely tempting to rock out, consume conspicuously, act on nothing more than whims and feeling, and burn out at an earlier point than is possible; either that, or become a beach-comber a la Richard Bach, or establish an independent self-sufficient homestead in some region of the world less influenced by the ravages of modern culture and isolated from the goings on of this crazed culture of ours.

Establishing an independent homestead is, at this point, out the question. I don’t think it’s impossible. It is also against my ideology; we as a species have stretched our resources too far and made our reach to pervasive to further spread ourselves out. If we are going to re-equilibrate in wilderness from time to time, we must do so from urban headquarters where we spend much of our time, with occasional jaunts into a diminishing wilderness. That, perhaps, is the only practical solution to prevent catastrophic resource collapse and climate change, which we need to adopt sooner than later if we want to live in a whole and fulfilling way that is not continually beset by challenging climatic events and scarce resources. I know that Malthus said the same thing many years ago, but the continuing loss of biodiversity has to be abated.

So finding my own personal little piece of turf, several acres or so in size, to call home, while appealing, doesn’t pass the, “What would happen if everybody did this test?” Living self-contained, sustainably, in community with genuine, caring people with access to wilderness tracts to blow off steam does. With which people, though? The people I know have such disjointed, differing goals and dreams in life that the prospect of distilling some cohesion out of them is daunting.

What I’m realizing is that the title “Small is Beautiful” is a double-edged sword. Perhaps “Small is Necessary” is more correct. It’s double-edged because I’m starting to discern that the vast majority lives in a small world, buying what’s put in front of their faces without questioning from where and how it comes; living according to the dictates of what economic conditions say must be done to feed their family and satisfy their desires and cravings. Perhaps I don’t like this pursuit of small-ness after all; perhaps if there were more of us who understood how economics, ecology, and politics really work, the domain of macro-factors, the phrase “Small is Necessary” would be untrue, and that understanding doesn’t come from an engagement only with the small things.

So I don’t pretend to have all the answers, hence the probing and querying nature of this weblog. From “Small is Beautiful” I wanted to leave you with a quotation of a writing by Soren Kierkegaard that is perhaps the entry point to metaphysical questioning:

“One sticks one’s finger into the soil to tell by the smell in what land one is: I stick my finger into existence – it smells of nothing. Where am I? Who am I? How came I here? What is this thing called the world? What does this world mean? Who is it that has lured me into this thing and now leaves me there? … How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted…but was thrust into the ranks as thought I had been bought of a kidnapper, a dealer in souls? How did I obtain an interest in this big enterprise they call reality? Why should I have an interest in it? Is it not a voluntary concern? And if I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director? … Whither shall I turn with my complaint?”

One only wonders if it is an end point as well.

Salmon run is in full swing on Stoney Creek. Both coho and chum salmon have been spotted, with numbers running roughly around 3 chum and 6-8 coho. All the volunteers are enjoying being in and around the creek frequently. The dog-off leash status of Stoney Creek continues to frustrate, but as we tell dog walkers, dogs are not the biggest problem facing Stoney Creek’s salmon; still, they are significant enough to curtail (ahahaha, no pun intended). Here’s photos of creek life:

First stages of decomposition, pointing the way downstream.

Comparison of a spawned out coho to a pair of shears I used to clear blackberries.

A close-up of a coho that is so fresh it looks like it would just start swimming if you put it back in the water.

Nurse log, busily creating habitat - a beautiful riffle has formed behind it.

Southwestern BC is getting whacked by a pineapple express dumping lots of water on it today and over the next few days. The headline in the Province today said that 300mm of rain is expected by Tuesday, something that could trigger flooding and landslides. While we expect this kind of stuff here in the Fraser Valley, this kind of storm is also one that is completely consistent with the predicted effects of global warming, as greater variation in temperatures causes more intense storms.

It’s a trend that seems accurate for this area to my memory, though at this point I don’t have hard data on the average rainfall amount for, say, the last 10 years, a statistic which would be very telling. As global temperatures continue to increase, the expected trend is higher river volumes than usual during storms, coupled with more severe droughts during dry seasons; effects which are likely to mean that rivers will create more erosion and will be more dangerous to people and buildings in floodplains.

This comes as world leaders, in advance of a climate treaty negotiation session in Copenhagen, seem to already be scuttling the possibility of a deal by stating in advance that a deal is unlikely. Perhaps that is the politically realistic approach; it’s also the cowardly approach. The climate situation is urgent enough that a global treaty is essentially imperative, and not arriving at a deal should not be considered a viable option.

In the prevailing debate between economists and environmentalists, what Stephen Harper and the Conservative Party have to realize is that without a stable environment, economic stability, except in the very short term, is impossible. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that as climatic volatility increases, the cost of addressing the damage of more floods, more dikes, and more erosion will increase as well.

Our Prime Minister might be a brilliant political strategist, but some things just seem to escape him. He can be called many things, but a genius isn’t one of them.

“The whole US economy is based on debt,” he said. “In fact, without debt, it wouldn’t work at all.”

The guy doing the talking was my brother. He was something like 16 or 17 years old, I believe, making me 13 or 14. He’d read some kind of book on it he said, so it had to be true. My memory of the time is vague, but the details are definite.

As is often the case, I didn’t really respond in any memorable fashion, just kind of letting the thought and information sink in but not really doing anything with it. I think my reaction was one of mild disbelief; the concept was too abstract at that age to do much with, but still firm enough that I intuitively didn’t like it. How could this be true? How could it be possible for an entire economy to revolve around debt, and for people to still save and get ahead despite this reality?

To tell you the truth, I don’t think I fully believed him, figuring that somewhere he must have missed a few points. Even to a 14 year old, it was obvious that an economist or a politician who designed a system in which the presence of money depended on the absence of it ought to be fired, and it couldn’t be that we need to fire our politicians, could it? So it was obvious to me the guy had a couple of screws loose somewhere; I just wasn’t sure which ones.

Having taken the time to ask a few questions about economics since that time, it’s become clear to me that the basic idea is true. Want to buy a house? Get yourself a death-pledge (just the translation of mortgage, hold on to your horses now) from your local money-lenders. Where does the money come from? At its root, the central bank, to whom you indirectly owe the money back. Here’s the kicker: until you asked for the mortgage, that money didn’t exist. Since you asked for it, it was brought into existence, and now you owe it back. In the meantime, that money which you now brought into existence trickles into the hands of your real estate agent, the builder, and the investor, who then spend the money on groceries and other consumer goods, providing our wages and boosting the economy.

Before you ask, no, the Canadian system isn’t dramatically different from the American one. The same principles apply. The key is that you have to understand the functioning of debt and credit, and understand how you can use them to your advantage, because if you don’t they’ll sweep you under the rug. Is it ideal? Probably not. But since all we seem to want is expansion and entertainment instead of satisfaction and sustainability, the system seems to work for us.

Therein lies the quandary. If it works for you, it doesn’t work for us. If it works for us, it doesn’t work for you, because debt’s everywhere you turn.

Smart guy, the K-man.

I once again venture into politics, briefly, tonight. The Wildrose Alliance in Alberta seems to getting more press these days, and today headlines linking the Wildrose Alliance and the BC Conservative Party appeared. Now I wouldn’t mind if the BC Liberal vote was split a little, but a quote from the Wildrose leader caught my eye in the Globe & Mail today.

It went like this: “Danielle Smith, the rookie leader of Alberta’s Wildrose Alliance Party, say’s BC’s Progressive Conservatives must focus on issues that matter to voters in selecting their next party chief.”

Ummm…I’m confused. Just why did she open her mouth? The statement kinda leaves me waiting for the politician who says, “you know, we’ve talked way too much about things voters care about. It’s time to change that up. It’s time for some glorious irrelevance.”

Seriously. Inane statements like that are why people don’t vote. Oh, wait. That’s exactly what the big parties want…

Looking back, it’s evident I’ve long been a complete rebel behind the scenes, and a partial one in my conduct. I disliked everything unfamiliar to me in childhood, from music to vegetables to swimming. I’m paying for that now. As a teenager, it was being human that got my gander. If everybody was getting their first car, I was busy cycling around. If everybody was forming social groups, I wasn’t going to be part of any social clique, and I just did my own thing. If everyone was listening to whatever band was popular back then (and I kid you not, I really have no idea), I was only interested in differentiating between the calls of a black-headed grosbeak and a robin. (ever tried it? it ain’t easy). If everybody was celebrating some cultural holiday, I couldn’t really have cared less, seeing only an orgy of consumerism based on questionable history where others saw an excuse to celebrate. Back in teenage days, sex too, was new of course, and even there I just said, well hey, all 20 billion (or whatever the number is) of us humans who’ve ever graced this planet do that… Sure, I’m sure it’s fun, but what’s unique in that? As a friend of mine quotes on her profile, a quote I rather like, “Human beings are here because of several million years of sexy ancestors.” (G & K Hendricks). Well, I can pick holes all through that argument, but still there’s a lot of truth there.

I bring these things up because I sometimes lament my lack of rebellion, despite the fact that I disagree with consumerism, growth at all costs, genetic modification, over-harvesting, burning gas so prolifically, eating animal flesh unnecessarily, not cycling places, monopolizing resources, make-up, fashion, over-consumption, capitalism, socialism, and most other “ism’s,” violence of any sort for most if not all reasons, etc. etc. etc. Hell, I’ve rebelled against just about everything we do as a species, just not in overly blatant or confrontational ways. It’s no wonder my psyche was where it was and is where it is, or that lately I delight in flagrantly and hypocritically counteracting my supposed worldview of ideal conduct.

You’ve likely realized by now how easily I put a positive spin on things. We humans are really capable of rationalizing anything, a theme I return to time and time again, and I have only barely gotten started. Fortunately, I’ve held off of acquiring too much history to have to rationalize.

Because I’m no illusionist, as she warned against. No, it’s all laid out for all to see. I realize I sometimes seem to invoke a certain stereotype more often associated with the feminine; that of being “complicated”. Well, first of all, I’ve never liked stereotypes or put much stock into them, but secondly if being “simple” is an attractive attribute, what planet do you hail from?

She said he told her that, “He wasn’t even worth the oxygen that he breathed..” She said she told him to, “get a grip!” (pauses for a swig of coffee, contemplating writing three blog posts in one night. That night, too).

It’s dangerous, this big picture stuff. This (more coffee) rigidity of thinking. As per the title of Roy’s book, perhaps God only goes exist in the small things of life. Perhaps you’ll only truly find that God-essence if you limit your universe. Too much, too early, is suffocating, and de-motivating. To the Beatitudes should be added, “Blessed are they who live in ignorance,” because as has been made cliche, ignorance is bliss. Blissed, then, are the ignorant.

Terrible singing. Self-deprecation. Unwitting embarrassment. Breaking a sweat. Puns, wit, and good cheer. In these are the spice of life; not in tackling humanities’ ills. The proof that we are worth the air we breathe, the food we consume, the space we inhabit, is that we are here. That we were born. I have no explanation for it, but it cannot be random. It simply cannot be. If it is not random, it is meaningful; a conclusion derived from deductive reasoning of the highest illogical order. Last year around this time I wrote that, “It has to be important that we learn collective self-restraint and abandon selfishness by embracing altruism and humility, and we have some level of free-will in determining our path, be it self-destruction or evolution to a higher level of consciousness, I have a hard time believing that all of this can end in the erasing of one of the universe’s chapters, namely the human chapter, with nothing to show for it. That we could simply fuck things up, orchestrate our own demise, and become a mere blip on the radar, a failed experiment on the part of God knows who.”

I stand by those words today. I think of them as consolation to those, like myself, who are prone to devaluing our own existence in the context of the immense, overwhelming, unfathomable, and hidden ways in which our success looms as our failure. Perhaps soon, I will renounce, to the same extent that x cannot equal zero, environmentalism for all except possibly employment, because it is so limiting, and I’ve done my bit. Perhaps, I’ve already done so, in all except habit…

Or perhaps, there are other things which would be better to renounce. Any takers? (more coffee; it’s a good thing I’m driving this weekend, or something stronger might be the order of the day).

I’m no different from anybody in that I dread taking trips to the dentist, for the impact on my cashflow, but perhaps more because of the seemingly inevitable stream of bad news. Universally, the term “dentist” is synonymous with bad news. Perhaps one of the few things that distinguishes my relationship with my dentist from that of most people is that for a long time it didn’t exist. Not until around the time of my graduation did I begin to suspect that maybe dental health was something I ought to be paying more attention to, and when I did pay a visit to a local dentist, the news wasn’t good. Without going into details, it was obvious it was high time to devote a little bit of time and attention to what exactly good dental health meant, and how to achieve it. I suspect it’s something a lot of people struggle with, but it’s not exactly the best topic for dinner table conversation. Hence, this blog shall pick up the slack.

As usual, the conventional answers weren’t very satisfactory. The official explanation of why so many people fall victim to dental decay is that when we eat sugary, starchy foods, remnants hang around on our teeth, give bacterial populations a big boost, and that these bacteria then create acidic secretions which gradually break down our enamel, and eventually our teeth themselves. The solution to this, the story goes, is frequent brushing and flossing, basically to the point that it becomes obsessive, which should slow decay. At the same, we’re told that we should avoid sugary foods and carbonated drinks. This all sounds pretty reasonable and logical.

For me however, this explanation leaves some definite gaps. It doesn’t explain why one guy that I know, who by all accounts considers coke and alcohol a food group of its own, and yet has nothing to worry about when it comes to the dentist; yet my brother and I, who grew up in a household that treated coke as a substance invented by the devil himself were obviously more severely impacted. It also doesn’t explain the well documented existence of indigenous groups with excellent dental health to whom a toothbrush is about as familiar an object as a condom to a Catholic.

So, as usual, when in doubt, I turned to the available literature; namely one book in particular (so far) called “Cure Tooth Decay” by Ramiel Nagal – a title with a bluntness that makes it promising. When I finally got it in my hands, it’s width also, raised my hopes for it. Rather than being a comprehensive treatise, a dictionary on its own, it was a slender, perhaps 75 page volume – something that promised not to stray too far from the topic at hand, while being easily, ahem, digestable…..(sorry, couldn’t resist).

Upon reading it, what I found was both shocking, as well as a tad relieving.  In a nutshell, the author emphatically refutes any contemplation of a vegetarian, let alone a vegan, diet, stating that the essential elements of strong teeth, and by extension, bones, are the fat-soluble vitamins – A, D, E, & K, which are difficult to ingest from plant sources, and even when found in plant-based foods, are present in significantly higher concentrations in butter, yogurt, and milk. Importantly, unlike virtually all dairy products available on the market today, these products have to be raw – read unpasteurized – in order to be effective.

Now, I’ve long been afflicted by eczema, relatively insignificant from essentially high school onwards, but much more of a nuisance early in life – so much so that my parents went to some lengths to figure this one out, and they identified dairy as a possible culprit, an allergen, with the result that dairy was simply not included in my diet. Couple that with a not half-hearted addiction to black licorice, the saltier the better, and a stubborn streak that banished pretty much all vegetables from my dinner plate, and you have a recipe for a very rich dentist, to say the least.

The trouble with this whole raw dairy thing is that it goes against the grain of my dietary habits and education on dairy. From the common belief among vegetarians that dairy consumption is useless from a calcium absorption perspective unless care is taken to also ensure adequate intake of magnesium and Vitamin D, and perhaps more importantly, that milk, dairy, and animal flesh, instead of promoting protein fortification as many believe, actually cause the excretion of protein. Here I admit to a weakness of this weblog – it is not a scientific treatise, but rather a log of thoughts and mish-mash of facts which may or may not be referenced. In this case, I’m going to admit to not remembering the exact reason behind animal products such as meat and dairy causing protein loss, and just say that my understanding of this stems from a video featuring Dr. Michael Klaper, M.D., which unfortunately, after “borrowing” for two years from a friend, we’ve lent to another friend (without notifying the owner of course). I’ve just checked, and he does appear on Google and in limited fashion on Youtube. The video I saw is called “A Diet for all Reasons,” to the best of my knowledge (a 45 second search on Youtube) isn’t available for viewing, but available to buy. I believe the explanation for a diet including animal foods causing protein loss centred around the acidity of the amino acids which compose protein.

There are many more aspects to preserving that healthy bite in Nagal’s book, but I have covered the absolute essentials here. I should add that Nagal states that tooth decay and tooth remineralization have more to do with the concentration of calcium and phosphorus in the blood than with oral cleanliness. I do want to hear from you though, whether you are vegan, vegetarian, or just plain like to eat normally and not obsess over what goes into your body, what are you thoughts on this? Do you have any further information that I have not yet come across? How to achieve good dental health on a plant based diet, perhaps? Or perhaps why you think Nagal is right on the money? Other good books on this topic? Or just what works for you and what doesn’t?

Speak up, do.  Or should I say, “Bite me?”

More or less the extent of my astrological knowledge is that I am a Libra, which I strongly associate with a tendency to seek balance, logic, and rational judgement, and to shy away from impulsiveness. In a lot of cases, that describes me to a T. Whether those are actually things characteristic of a Libra is anybody’s guess.

Taken one step further though, being strongly “Libra-esque,” or any other astrological sign, inherently makes one unbalanced. Perhaps this is why I sometimes strive to leave behind the search for balance, and instead, embrace impulsiveness, spur of the moment type decisions. Because I seldom make a decision on the spot. No, I usually want to use just about all the time that I have before I come to a decision. This might be why, in high school when test writing was a frequent occurrence, I would usually be one of the last to leave the room. Had I less time, I’d still have completed it, but why would I use less time than I’d been given?

I broach this topic because for me, this seems to be a time of great upheaval. On the heels of being unemployed for longer than I have been since I entered the workforce, the array of possiblities and opportunites clamoring to once again engulf me is bewildering and overwhelming. Some of the few concrete decisions that I’ve come to are that by no means do I ever want to have an office job, but even that is not concrete, because it is at loggerheads with my recent interest in economics. Where, oh where, could economics ever lead but to a desk and a cubicle?

And yet, outside the realm of economics, where is the root of the inequities, failures, and injustices of our world? Surely it is not in our best interests to have a system where money is debt and debt is money. Nor to work until June or July just to pay the tax load. Nor to measure progress in the Gross Domestic Product while ignoring the Genuine Progress Indicator. Yet who, besides an economist can address these problems?

We’ve been through the 60’s and 70’s, when peace and love reigned supreme, when people stood up to their governments, and the general trajectory was towards weapons disarmament. Yet that was also a time of international tension, as a cloud of fear hung over the world as everyone waited for somebody with a happy trigger finger to jetison the world into nuclear hell. Fortunately, that never happened, and today the threat seems distant.

The funny thing is that I’m really talking out of my ass, because I’m no expert on the events post WWII. (this particular post is perhaps more of a confession of lack of expertise than anything else). Despite all the awareness of that era, and what I perceive to be a trend towards lightheartedness, the elimination of racial differences, and the valuation of the simple things in life but also freedom through eccentricity and individuality, where are we now? Not any further ahead, I think it’s fair to say. Perhaps the people who pull the strings at the highest levels don’t want the people to lose their sense of tension, of foreboding. Perhaps complacency really isn’t the goal, because as soon as the people become comfortable in where they’re at, and confident in the state of world affairs, they start to demand civil liberties. They become harder to control.

These are the issues which swirl in my head as I ponder a diversion into economics, and yet, that spectre of being nailed to an office chair leaves me trembling with angst. Better, perhaps, as some of my friends have done, to develop physical skills and competency, maximize the body’s potential, take premium care of it, and so journey throughout life, relying on physical skills for my bread and butter,, and working towards sufficiently strong community bonds to deter the folks who pull our society’s economic strings from getting too reckless in terms of letting equality and prosperity for the average person fall by the wayside.

That, to me, is a key area to focus on. Community through strong bonds that is attuned to what our government is up to. In BC, and Canada as a whole, we’re in a period marked by talks of cuts and deficits. Across the river in Mission protests recently arose in response to plans to close the emergency ward. Now advocates of our library system find themselves needing to mobilize to demonstrate strong public loyalty to maintaining the library system’s funding base. At the same time, The governing Liberals announced the introduction of a Harmonized Sales Tax a year from now, nicely timed so that they hope people will more or less have forgotten. In theory, the HST is a logical concept – why do the paperwork for two taxes when you could only do it for one? However, the HST means that more tax will be levied on some consumer items, raising more revenue for the government.

This revenue, of course, is what the government needs to pay for service maintenance, because with an ongoing recession, revenue is down. So to the best of my understanding, in the absence of new revenue such as that from an HST, the maintenance of existing library and health services will mean cuts elsewhere. That is simply unavoidable, unless the government is going to run a deficit, which is not something they want to be known for. BC taxpayers lose no matter which way the ball tumbles, whether it’s in higher taxes or in reduced services.

Advocacy groups are doing a fabulous job of mobilizing to create awareness and protect local funding, and I commend them for that, because even though protecting funding locally will mean cuts elsewhere, a healthy level of citizen displeasure sends the message to our governments that their population base is not happy, and pushing the envelope too far carries a serious risk of reprisal.

So watch it, Victoria boys. This elephant’s showing some signs of life.

Food is such a big part of our lives. This simple fact is impossible to escape, much as we might prefer to haphazardly eat what we’d like, when we’d like. Good food really excites me, especially when it’s locally produced and more or less benign – and Sundays at our house really take the cake.

We have glorious Sunday breakfasts that have evolved from a meat, cheese, peanut butter, and jam affair to a veritable feast at which we have Silver Hills sprouted bread, and a choice of: lettuce greens, broccoli/garlic sprouts, tamari, hummus, tahini, eggs, peanut butter, jam, onion, tomato, and butter, together with a black or twig tea. Such variety and exquisite taste simply can’t be beat.

Then over the rest of the day, we had a salad picked fresh from the garden, handfuls of fresh salmonberries and thimbleberries, and a garden smoothie containing lamb’s quarters (a plant related to Quinoa), dandelion, carrot thinnings, very young carrots,  and then made palatable by adding banana and apple. Last and probably least was some cooked cauliflower, quinoa with apples & cinnamon, and black beans with pasta sauce.

Such fare is simply extraordinary, and makes me wish it could be summer in perpetuity, as it is only in summer that it is so easy to find abundant food, and even now, we are still buying produce grown in California, not to mention the things like pasta sauce produced who knows where. Still, a day like today where we had control over so much of what we consumed leaves me feeling empowered, and motivated to do better yet. I am reading Steve Solomon’s “Growing Food in Hard Times” which asserts that with about 2-3 000 sq.ft. of land, cutting one’s food cost in half is entirely within reach with only 2 hrs. of work per week, not to mention the health benefits this would bring. I’d say this is very realistic, and while I only have about 1 000 sq. ft of land that is shaded until noon or later, I can foresee the day that I work at least 3000 sq. ft.

Because I can eat, cook, and sleep anywhere – for that I don’t need to own land. The land I need to own is the land that I work and condition the soil on. If that land happens to also have a place to lay my head, bonus, I’ll take it. But at the end of the day, it’s the productive land that matters, because we can’t rely on Californian imports forever.

Today I want to do something I never thought I would. A shout-out to a multi-national, ubiquitous corporation with the type of success that borders on being a monopoly. Starbucks. As much as my sweet tooth loves the store and it’s drinks, I really like something the store does that sets it apart from almost all the stores out there. Starbucks has a coffee-grounds giveaway program – one that has turned me into a literal Starbucks junkie. Not because I need my caffeine fix, but because my garden needs its nitrogen.

I’ve been stopping in at the 3 Starbucks locations that I pass by virtually every day to grab the roughly 5 kilo. bags that contain used coffee grounds, which Starbucks staff package up and put out for people to take home. In addition to the grounds being a good source of nitrogen and trace minerals, this saves the grounds from going where they would otherwise go – the landfill. It reduces Starbuck’s trash load, saving them money in disposal, and has made me one loyal customer. Because of course when I stop to grab my coffee grounds, I can’t resist grabbing a drink or a pastry either. It’s basic economics; I’ll spend my dollars with the companies that have practices that I support, and while I don’t drink much coffee, if that happens to be Starbucks, well, then it’s Starbucks.

Edit: Apparently, Go Go Beans in Abbotsford does the same thing. Actually, I suspect a lot of coffee shops will if  y ou ask. But Starbucks makes it soooo easy….end edit.

In my garden I’m growing a few types of crops. Lettuce, carrots, bush beans, pole beans, arugula, chard, broccoli, and raspberries, not to mention the grapes and pears that were present when we moved in to the property. In addition, there’s a roughly 3×3m. area that I use for composting, and it’s the compost where most of my grounds end up. Just yesterday I turned the pile, and to my great delight, could feel the warmth emanating from it, and even see some steam rising from it’s centre as I forked it over. The heat is generated by the copious abundance of micro-organisms feeding on the kitchen and garden waste that I add to my compost, and they do especially well when they have an abundance of nitrogren to feed on – something coffee grounds are high in. The hotter your pile, below a certain temperature, the faster you will get compost and the stronger it will be.

Another use for coffee grounds is as a foliar fertilizer. I soak the coffee grounds in water for a day or so, strain out the solids, and then use a hand-held sprayer to spray the leaves and stems of any plants that I think can use a boost. The liquid nitrogen content of the water, as well as the other nutrients it absorbs from the grounds, is highly absorbable to the plants who get it. For instance, I used it on a couple of squash plants that I had to move because they were growing in my lettuce bed, and suffered from root disturbance following the move. They seem to be recovering now, but like with natural medicine, you really don’t know if it’s because of the treatment or whether they would have recovered anyway.

So a big kudos to Starbucks for going to the effort of making coffee grounds available for people to filch; we might be playing footsie with the planet’s systems by moving the nutrients in coffee so far around the world, but at least this is one step towards closing the loop and getting some use out of what would otherwise be a waste product.

Nope, Starbucks didn’t hook me with their caffeine, but I’m hooked to Starbucks nonetheless.

Just goes to show; if they don’t get you one way, they’ll get you another.

I should have tried to sell them this post.

I wrote this short blog post a while back in response to a posting on the Care2 site, www.care2.com, for cause bloggers. I didn’t hear back, but felt I had to give it a shot. I obviously didn’t give this post enough time or energy or the right direction, but even so, getting paid to blog would be a little beyond belief. I doubt it would have been much, but still….

_______________________________________________________________________________________

I first came across the Care2 community way back in early high-school. My idealism and passion for a better world immediately pulled me in, and I enthusiastically began using Care2’s leveraging of the power of advertising to save just a little bit of big cat habitat, conserve marine wetlands, and protect the rainforest. I wasn’t quite changing world events just yet, but I was making a difference, however incremental, and that’s what I cared about. It thrilled me to see an organization aggressively using online media and the power of economics to effect change. Today, I still see Care2 doing exactly that.

–Edit–: In fact, since I wrote this, I’ve learned from Care2 Founder Randy Paynter’s blog that Care2 is currently combating a DDOS attack – a malicious effort to seriously undermine Care2’s effectiveness. Randy writes: “We do not know who is behind the attack. Clearly, someone is threatened with the impact the PetitionSite is having. It’s possible the attack is being coordinated by a single unhappy hacker, or it’s possible it’s related to some of the petitions we’ve recently had related to international events. It’s pure speculation at this point as we simply do not know, however its size and characteristics suggest it’s a well coordinated attack.”

So there you have it. As some reader’s have pointed out, the fact that whoever is behind this attack feels threatened by Care2 means it’s making a positive difference. I encourage you to use or explore Care2. — End edit.–

Since that time, my activism has counter-intuitively expanded to become more local. I’ve passionately raised awareness about my watershed and its salmon populations, chipped in with the local cycling advocacy group, and participated at the civic table. But I’ve also come to realize that though we might want to change the world, there are limitations to how much we can do, and it’s important not to overextend, but to function within our capabilities.

These are tumultuous times, to say the least. Gone are the days when the only thing that mattered was “making it” in the big wide world. Fashioning a product to sell, acquiring personal property, growing your family and staying in touch with your network – it’s easy for these things to pale in comparison to the challenges that science and intuition tells us are coming, if they’re not here yet. A rapidly warming climate, proliferation of packaging and industrial waste, growing worldwide debt loads, all these things and more call on us to act differently, to do more than we ever have before, above and beyond the demands of our careers, and yet for many of us, simply staying afloat in the ever-changing sea of current events and economics is challenge enough.

Some give in to apathy, reckoning the pace and scale of the things that are happening are simply too much to effect change over. That’s not the spirit we need. If we can cultivate an attitude of passionate involvement, and value effort even when the result doesn’t materialize, we can change the course that we’re on. It’s what I’m working towards in my areas of interest, and I hope you do the same in yours.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Today I’m using Care2 more than I ever have before. I mainly use their e-mail service, figuring that if I’m going to do e-mail anyway, why not do it with an organization that spreads goodwill by raising money for habitat and endangered species preservation among other things, rather than with some anonymous, for-profit, corporation like Hotmail or Gmail?

–Second Edit– One other Care2 feature that I’ve contributed to is absolutely free, and amazingly ingenious. It involves using advertising dollars to fund preservation initiatives. Companies are given the opportunity to advertise on the Care2 site, and Care2 hosts a link that people must log onto the site in order to click. By logging onto the site, they are exposed to that company’s logo, and voila, these companies have gained exposure while contributing their advertising dollars to preservation. For example, one company that stands out as gaining profile in my eyes is Kashi  - the high-fibre healthy cereal company. Now I don’t buy much cereal, but when I do I’m more likely to buy Kashi because of their contribution to the Care2 “Click-2-Donate” sites.

To do some vainglorious chest-thumping, but also demonstrate Care2’s effectiveness (something I was skeptical of for a while) since I started clicking, which I did pretty much daily in early high school and have only recently started doing again, I’ve made the following contributions out of the Care2 totals:

Offset 18 lbs. of carbon/2 549 495 lbs. total

24 THOUSAND sq. feet of Marine Wetland, American Prairie, and Rainforest habitat/ 612 MILLION total

305 ACRES of Big Cat habitat (tiger, jaguar, snow leopard)/ 27 400 SQ. MILES total

830 pcs. fruit for primates/ 18.7 MILLION total

supported Care2 kids for 505 days /18.2 MILLION total

659 pets/ 18.3 MILLION total

1218 letters protesting violence against women/ 12.5 MILLION total

As well, Care2 supports  efforts to help seals, oceans, and to eliminate the environmental causes of breast cancer, albeit with less tangible ways of measuring progress.

I really see Care2 as a shining example of one of our primary options in this rigged economic climate. Until we can achieve wide-reaching reform, we have to try to create a shift in spending habits from supporting harmful practices to supporting beneficial ones, and being willing to pay a little more for it if we have to. Done en masse, this can effect change.–End second edit–

Those of you who read here regularly will have noticed a precipitous decline in the frequency of my posts of late. This is no accident, and has a definite reason, so don’t despair! For the time being, I’ll be posting infrequently, and with little mention of myself. That’s probably as it should be anyhow.

Life has slowed to a crawl, just in time for the hot weather to sweep in. If your parents ever sang that song about, “Lazy summer days, with the fish jumping and the cotton being high,” well, that’s what things feel like right now. Replace the cotton with reed canary grass or corn, and the fish jumping with red-tailed hawks soaring, and the songs fits perfectly.

I walk home everyday from the bus stop on Blueridge, from which I span the rural-urban divide, going through the subdivision, around the detention pond under the power-lines, through the barbed-wire fence, along the makeshift pathway through a young alder grove, down the hill as the pathway snakes through a grove of middle-age cottonwoods, and then through a large patch of grass that’s waist high, before I cross the creek and cross the field to my house. All in all, it’s about 10 minutes from the bus stop to my house, 13 if I’m going uphill.

It’s a bus route on which I’m starting to know some of the users. There’s Rick, the laid off reformed gang-member and now born-again Christian who’s using his free time do some serious working out. There’s the girl who goes down to the City Blends with her laptop to do her homework and do some people watching. There’s the red-haired girl who draws faces on balloons to pass the time. There’s the Indo-Canadian security guard, who remains the only one to offer to sign my petition to implement a transit line between Chilliwack and Abbotsford. Everyone else I’ve had to approach. There’s the lady who disagrees vehemently with Tim Felger’s “election” signs downtown which say things like, “Your mom called. She said to bring home a baggie.”

Riding transit so much, you start to love the endless variation among the people on the buses. The quirky bus drivers, the poverty, the young punks who hang out in the back of the bus, the young single mothers who you feel sorry for but admire for their pluck, all the people who don’t jive so well with the rest of society. Who you don’t see are the young professionals, the businessmen, the people who think they’ve got it made, who drive sporty cars around town and still believe the world’s their oyster and shun transit at all costs. Here in Abbotsford, there’s a certain homely feel to using transit, almost a sense of ownership that simply isn’t present when you’re in Vancouver or some other urban metropolis, where the sheer multitude of people makes any sort of group identification based on transportation routes unlikely.

Transit slows things down as well. Countless times I’ve walked the 15 minutes to get to the bus stop, lounged for 20 minutes reading or chatting at a bus stop, or walked the distance that the bus was going to cover because it wasn’t going to arrive for 20 minutes. As I recover from the concussion that I suffered, I’m not working yet, freeing up 35 hours per week or so. I’m still too stubborn to apply for student loans, having paid for everything out of pocket so far and determined to keep doing that as long as I can, so I’m not taking any classes because I just can’t do it financially. That leaves me with a lot of time to myself. Heck, I don’t even have the money to use all the free time getting my entertainment fix. Instead, an independent business opportunity has arisen to which I’m dedicating myself – one to which I see no downside or risk, and the potential for great rewards –  along with some casual, simple work in my garden, and some excellent literature. Ebay, too, has become my second home as I try to liquidate all the un-needed items that  are scattered around the property.

It’s a lifestyle I’m going to miss when I move on, and make no mistake, move on I will. This little 15 hectare patch of land bi-sected by Downes Creek and containing my little garden patch will be places that I will always visit fondly, albeit with mixed memories of a place that sustained me throughout high-school and early university, literally and spiritually, but also saw the accumulation of more sheer stuff than I could ever use or reasonably dispose of, along with the emergence of health challenges about which I’ve been relatively mute and will remain vague.

All my instincts scream at me to simply play it safe, and establish some kind of shelter against what may or may not metamorphose into an international if not a global catastrophe, as our society’s energy supplies start to stagnate, taxes rise, the baby boomers leave the active economy and demand their social security benefits instead, and the extinction crisis driven by a changing climate begins to mount, affecting not just the world’s ecological systems, but the people who are intricately tied to them.

By nature, I remain a cautious person, with an avid dislike for casting preparation to the wind and letting the chips fall where they may.  Yet, there are things to be said for a devil-may-care lifestyle governed more by the changing of the winds and the seasons than the fickle shifting of society’s economic outlook. It’s a hardy, no-expectations and no set plan lifestyle which takes life as it comes and doesn’t focus too much on the future, outside of idle speculation to pass the time. Perhaps most importantly, it relies on natural skill and capability to pull one through when hard times do arise instead of reserves that have been put aside in good times. What I can’t seem to decide is whether the people who lived in that way did so deliberately, knowing that any disruption in the current socio-economic state of things could turn their world upside-down, or whether they were simply too ignorant, lazy, stubborn, or selfish to focus on getting ahead and laying something aside to help them deal with bad times when they did arrive. I’m not mentioning many names, mainly because there are really only a couple of figures who characerize that lifestyle who I know much about, and even my knowledge of them is limited. But I am thinking of the people who characterized the Beat Generation, the free lifestyles of the 60’s, 70’s, and more recent decades as well. What I am coming to realize is that there was no heavenly balm of peace and good times which settled over that post World War period. There was the Cold War, and the ideologically justified combat of the Vietnam and Gulf Wars. The threat of the annihilation of a way of life was ever-present, as it is now. As I develop a broader understanding of the way things work, I find it more and more difficult to pronounce anything with certainty.

The idealism that would have seen the proliferation of public transit and bicycles, high density self-sufficient housing, community gardens, and the emergence of a government aware of the complete inadequacies of economics as usual, is fast fading within me. From the time of the first catastrophic detonation of the atomic bomb, groups have called for nuclear disarmament without success. The Kyoto Treaty was first adopted in 1997 and took effect in 2005, and today we are further from its goals than we have ever been. People continue to gradually lose traction against the ceaseless wheel of economics, as more slide into poverty and taxes rise ever higher. We are at the point where prominent British scientist James Lovelock, founder of the Gaia Theory, believes that we have finally passed the point of no return, and that the best expenditure of energy is now in preparation for the inevitable collapse of the world as we know it. Now, that’s easy for him to say – on the one hand, advancing a theory that costs him nothing but casts him into the spotlight even if he is dead wrong. But on the other hand, the science and economics of where we are does look grim. The main point here is that progressively minded activists have been calling for certain changes since many of my friend’s grandparents were teenagers, and as far as I can see, have been stymied by a range of factors, from the military-industrial complex, to fractional reserve banking, to simple human nature and greed.

Yeah, that much vaunted idealism that saw me quietly advocate for the things I believed to be of paramount importance, is giving way to a higher degree of realism that espouses one of my brother’s core beliefs: That if you don’t help yourself, you can’t help anyone else. In the face of escalating financial challenges that make a mockery of the naive, simplistic, and innocent desire to triumph over the power of money, the cogs of ICBC, housing markets, food costs, the price of accredited education, physical limitations, and prohibitive health care expenses,  a lot of the edges that defined my core beliefs about the role of a good citizen are being worn away – as near as I can gather, what happens to all idealists who don’t take jobs with the goverment or in government funded academia.

I have not yet seen or met anyone who meets two conditions: 1) is not constrained by money, and 2) acquired their wealth through means that obey the “do no harm” principle. Willful ignorance, rationalization, forced justification, and turning a blind eye seem to dominate in people’s mindsets, which is certainly not to demonize humanity, but to assign fault and to acknowledge our inherent imperfection and pragmatism.

To fly in the face of established wisdom about conclusions, I’m not writing a proper conclusion here. Rather, I’d simply like to urge you, if you read this, to disagree vehemently or simply play the devil’s advocate. I do hate it when people agree with me. I know I’m right anyway; I just wish people wouldn’t admit that. So come on. Tear my impromptu essay to shreds. Give me a failing grade, and I’ll do the same for you. Tell my why and how I’m wrong, and I will be your friend forever. Just know that I don’t make many enemies.

Don’t read my blog tonight. I have lots to say but no time to say it, so just head on over to Clusterfuck Nation by James Howard Kunstler:

www.jameshowardkunstler.typepad.com.

He`s very thought provoking, and says some things I would agree with. Not all, mind you, but some.

I mean, have I ever completely agreed with anyone?

Well, I just went weak in the poetic knees after reading this, so I had to post it of course. Isn’t this just superb?

Here is a link to the Allen Ginsberg photo mentioned in the poem: http://mysite.verizon.net/paulruby/ginsburgmonkey.jpg

1984 Honda Elite Scooter, 12K miles, $750, 769-3329, Bellefonte

Paul Ruby

Let me tell you about it.

It starts easy

with a little electric motor

attached to the side of a big one.

Kind of like those icky fish that stick

to the side of the big shark in the pulsing

ocean’s belly.

It used to make me so happy

waiting for my stuff to dry,

in front of Splish Splash Laundromat.

And even though I only like the Pina Colada song a little

I dreamed I made whoopee on it

in the dunes of the Cape.

Go ahead, sit on it.

You’ll think you’re in Paris

or India with the monkeys

like in that Allen Ginsburg photo.

Girls will wave

as you drive by.

Forget about a Corvette

that only attracts other guys.

You need this Scooter!

Take it for a spin put on

my helmet.

Your breath fogs the visor

and mixes with my smells

of garlic, dirty hair and extra virgin olive oil

in a squishy corner of your mind.

Now we are close. It’s the smells of our

fore fathers, their fathers and that fellow in the

Raphael painting riding the stinky pony

on the Apian Way.

This scooter is your ticket to ride.

Okay, so it won’t start.

Help me bounce it up and down real hard

to knock some American sense into it.

Notice how the tires leave the ground

coins and tools fly

out of the glove box and bounce

under my ex’s burgundy Camry.

Look down.

That’s her watching us through the laundromat

window. The steamy window of our lives.

There is a Save-On Foods inhabited by two birds; this discovery was the highlight of my Tuesday. The short glimpse I caught of one of them led me to believe they are Juncos; little birds that before I knew their actual names, I used to call “black-heads” and “gray-heads,” because the males had solid black heads while the females were just a light gray.

I mentioned this to a staff member. I was heartened that she was aware of them and that the staff there had actually named them, rather than removing them from the premises.  I guess I just expect that nowadays nobody can accept the intrusion of anything natural that potentially compromises “food safety,” and it makes me happy to come across an exception.

I am not specifying which Save-on Foods right now, but next time you are in one, keep an eye on the rafters; you just might see a flash of feathers as a Junco flits out of sight. Who knew you could birdwatch while shopping? Now that’s multi-tasking…

Some weeks ago I wrote about the Christmas Bird Count. On that day, I stopped in at Stoney Creek to do some quick birding. I also snapped some photos of the The Elephant Tree – one of the most  unique trees in all the world for its uncanny resemblance to an elephant. See for yourself.

I admit that I know nothing and haven’t the faintest clue what is the right way to do things, and am very possibly wrong as often as I am right, and this ambiguity will be my undoing. There is a prevalent obsession with certainty and stability, and it’s generally irrational. After all, what it is certain and stable these days? And if something has that appearance, isn’t it more likely illusion than reality?

Unfortunately, I seem to labour under the impression that until I’ve caught myself up with every leading thinker in every field of thought that I care to have an interest in, I can’t legitimately claim to hold an informed opinion.

I generally have a very good idea of what I believe to be best, but hesitate to announce it until the fraction of intuition on which it is based is sufficiently diminished.

Late evening discussions are always, always, always worthwhile. Remember that.

Disengagement now in process. I’m taking my life back, starting as of last week. How can I help others when I do not help myself?

In my states of personal reflection, I continually return to two main themes. The first is that the unconscious disconnect with society and culture that characterized my high school years, partially in rebellion against mainstream culture, partially in disinterest in what it had to offer, and partially in simply feeling out of place in overtly social settings, was either a foolhardy approach to personal development or an inherently logical and genuine approach to discovering myself. I can’t seem to decide which.

The second theme is that now that I have burst out of that self-imposed bubble and been quasi-obsessed with the creative expressions of our society’s search for truth through music, literature, and film, I continually come up against mental roadblocks that stem from my worldview. Perhaps it is illogical, but I can’t shake the belief that our entire society is illegitimate and misguided, built on stolen foundations, propped up by inordinate consumption, and structured within increasingly oppressive economic systems that marginalize more and more people every year while creating wealth for the elite. A second aspect to this theme is that I also have a belief that much of our popular culture is a distraction, whether intentionally or incidentally, from the true issues that ought to be receiving our time and attention, those being community partnerships, societal sustainability, political involvement, or simply the expression of our own creativity through music, poetry, discussions, etc. This goes back to the old Roman idea that if the people have bread and circuses, they will not be too difficult to keep in check. The poet Juvenal articulated this idea, realizing that “people essentially aren’t interested in actual politics. For the mass, it’s all just a soap opera and a struggle for how much land or money they will end up with, regardless of how the system operates internally.” (www.corrupt.org).

I think my views have evolved though; unlike my high school years, I’m now enthusiastically supportive of any and all local arts and culture and will very happily purchase music and literature and art that I know supports the individual who produced them rather than some multi-national or profit-motivated corporation. It’s honoring their courage to take the financial risk of contributing something novel and beautiful or provocative to society.

It may be that I’d have continued my passionate pursuit of knowledge about the natural world and organic gardening during my high school years, an extremely isolationist endeavor, had more of my peers been as interested in that as I. Ultimately however, I grew to resent the degree to which such time consuming pursuits pre-empted any kind of rewarding social interaction. Not that I’ve abandoned that; just dropped it quite a few points on the priority scale.

All of this is on the verge of coming to a head. The fact that I’m blogging this from my climatology class is evidence of how unable I am to focus these days. Further evidence of this is the frequency with which I’m on Facebook and how far behind I am on my assignments. I’m not very happy with my current job; I’m more strongly drawn to self-directed learning than to structured and expensive formal education. I’m 90% certain I won’t be enrolling in more than one course in the Winter semester; it’s time to work and build some practical rather than academic skills, and look after my body better.

The upshot of all this is I’m starting to develop some skepticism that I can continue to be as involved in the community in various environmental pursuits as I have been; it’d be a shame to withdraw, but there is so much to immerse oneself in outside the volunteer realm that to be more than superficially involved at a basic level can no longer be as high of a priority as it has been. It’s the difference between being a citizen rather than an advocate.

While I cannot take back those formative high school years, as I’d be tempted to do had I the choice, it’ll be necessary to take some time, be it months or years, to deal with the explosive restlessness that’s eating me up by taking less formal schooling and being more culturally involved, and traveling as much as I possibly can, working as much as I need to acquire the basic necessities to facilitate a more active lifestyle.

The degree will be finished, eventually. But for now I’m hitting the pause button and taking an extended break to work out some kinks and take charge of my own learning.

So who knows how to play the banjo?

Knee-slappingly hilarious link, from you guessed it, The Onion: http://www.theonion.com/content/news/cheney_waits_until_last_minute

Ah yes, that wonderfully abstentious summer I had is catching up to me now. Spending all of August traveling didn’t do my financial picture any favors, and it now looks like I’ll be taking significantly less credits than I’d anticipated for that reason. That’s ok. I’m not one of those people who take a bazillion courses while somehow still working and manage to attain GPA’s of 3.5 or above. Not a chance. I’ve taken eight semesters now, four of them full-time and four part time, and through the last four or five, I’ve had to work to meet tuition and other payments. Coincidentally, those are also the semesters in which my GPA has been poorest, generally speaking. Overall though, I haven’t really had to worry about money. This semester, that’s changed.

I’d bargained on being able to use student loans. For reasons I won’t get into, I couldn’t. So I’ll be working more and schooling less, and I don’t really have a problem with that. From some angles, I really shouldn’t be university at all. Not yet, anyhow. Too much I want to do to spend so much time with my head buried in textbooks and suffocating in classrooms. Maybe later. After I’ve been to Europe and New Zealand and Japan and learned the banjo and jujitsu and tried a lot of different things. Maybe then. But now? It simply doesn’t seem worth it.

Everyday I fly around like a mason bee in a pear tree, flying, buzzing, cross-pollinating, always another bit of pollen to collect, and with all the activity I just barely get done what I need get done, only “by the hair on my chinny chin” as the three little pigs would say. One day I think I’ll change degrees and go study at UBC. The next I figure I may as well go live in Prince George with a very good friend. Then I think I should study naturopathic medicine at Boucher. Or go WWOOFing somewhere – I’ve met so many WWOOFers who seem to be having the time of their lives – will I ever see California Emma again and Lillooet Leif? I’d have loved to stay in touch with them.

Mostly though, with trying to scrape up enough to pay some tuition bills through Domino’s and the Cascade, while still laying the groundwork for a U-Pass and scrambling to get in sync with my classes, I feel like I’m out of touch with all the people who are important to me, if there really are any. Silly me. Of course there are. Really? Yes, really – there were a few people who noticed when you left for a month. One of them spoke of “a general malaise of disconnectedness” and I think that’s bang-on; I’m surely not the only one. But to anybody reading this who I haven’t touched base with in a while, I wish, I really do, that I could spend my days lounging in coffee shops or going to shows or working up a sweat with you.

That’s all well and good; I’d like nothing better than to live in a world where I could live my daily life and not be concerned about the impacts of my consumption; not be concerned about a changing climate; not be concerned about a culture addicted to over the counter drugs and over seas oil. The truth is, I don’t, and that being the case, I get my kicks from activism. From changing the world just a little bit, leaving it a little better than I found it. More and more I’m learning, from people like TIM especially, that often that’s accomplished just as well by doing something stupid and zany and just letting loose than by structure and control and discipline, though certainly those have their place.

We need to energize each other to transform our communities. This is something I’m not good at myself; I want to do better at it. So drop me a line, let me know how you’re doing, let’s change the world together, through everything from politics to music. Want to do a soup night? I’ll come help you cook. Want to learn about the salmon in your stream? I’m there. Want to get to the heart of why the gap between the rich and poor keeps getting bigger and what can be done about it? I don’t have all the answers, but sure, let’s talk. Want to wander around the town at 2 in the morning just for the hell of it? Sure, though on a bike would be better. Want to catch a Greyhound to a random place on the map? Alright, though a week or two advance notice would be nice. (Just don’t pick the spot by pointing a butcher knife at map; butcher knives and Greyhound buses don’t mix very well these days).

I often lean towards politics; that’s my tendency, but music is just as important. In the words of Michael Franti, “Whether you are walking, or driving in your car, put your hands high, let me know how you are! Say Hello, hello! Bonjour, bonjour, Hola, hola, konichawa, konichiwawa!”