Friday, November 30, 2012

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Industrial Hemp & Marijuana

Hemp, Industrial  -  I would like to suggest that you get a DVD copy of "Hempsters"  and get the story on commercial hemp production.  One of the tragedies today for agriculture is that we lack vital crops which could take the place of some which either cannot be grown and shouldn't be:   tobacco for one,  GMO crops for another.   Hemp was grown widely in the U.S. during the second world war and is grown commercially all over the world,  including Canada.  If it gets planted here the  DEA comes in a removes it and the grower is prosecuted. 

What is the confusion?  Seems that the DEA/U.S. Government doesn't understand that although Hemp is in the same plant family as marijuana,  they are very different plants and the affect of using them is completely different.  Marijuana, which was approved for personal use in two states in the last election,  and is now used widely as a medicinal  substance in several states is still widely considered illegal by government authorities.   Thus the confused actions of the DEA where industrial hemp is concerned.   Kentucky is the state leading the charge to replace tobacco with hemp as a replacement cash  crop.  The fight goes on,  the National Farmer Union has approved it as a crop that should be grown in the United States.  

Have I smoked pot?  Yes,  more than a few times,  many years ago;   but I could never have been considered a "user"  of it.  So,  I would like to share a couple of stories from California about the plant.  The first was in L.A. when I attended USC for graduate work.  Looking down out the bathroom window into the adjacent alley I watched a man go up and down attending plants.  I went down later on and found that marijuana plants had been planted in many yards in the block,  and this fellow was obviously taking care of them and harvesting as needed;  the home owners took care of the watering and, I guess,  some of the weeding.   Ron Le B. was a crafty fellow who I met shortly thereafter and he offered to give me some pot if I could keep his secret.  Instead we became fellow jazz loving neighbors,  he made it possible for me to go to after hours places in parts of town in which I wouldn't have been welcomed without his  (black) presence;   and I had wheels and he had not. 

Years later in Venice, Calif.  there was a local named "Shag" Nightingale ("Shag" because he loved shag carpet and used in heavily in his residence,  and even in his car).  Shag was  a dealer,  but he went to prison because he didn't keep up with child support.  Turns out that while in jail he was put in charge of road crews doing clean ups on the Pacific Coast Highway.  And, like Mr. Le B. he managed to plant pot along the road which was then harvested at  surreptitious times and sold in the community by civilian crews.  When he finished his sentence he returned to Venice after having picked up a brand  new El Dorado Cadillac,  which was then upholstered in shag.   Could it be that these two law abiding citizens might be an avant garde which would go beyond our present drug wars?  Stay tuned.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Knowledge, Love & Forgiveness

In front of the volume of "Thrall"" by our great, new Poet Laureate,  Natasha Trethewey,   there are two quotations which she undoubtedly approved of:        "What is love?

                                                                                    One name for it is knowledge. "

                                                                                               -- Robert Penn Warren
&   "After such knowledge, what forgiveness?"

                    --   T.S. Eliot

When I first read these my response was something akin to being blindsided on both sides at once, perhaps the intention of the poet.  Knowledge/Information is so all pervasive,  so ever present and confusing to me,  that is is completely impossible to think of it as love,  not even close.  And then to add the forgiveness factor is a change up so wild as to confound what is left of reason, to say the least.

In an age of doublespeak,  where there are both individuals and organizations  employed full time to do the utter scrambling of knowledge and information (and I think of Global Warming right now,  because it is so much in the news);  one has to shake his or her head just to imagine all the think tanks dedicated to information manipulation to satisfy their clients and sponsors,  unseat opponents,  win elections, etc.

In the naive days when I first graduated from library school,  it seemed enough to cite a reference deemed authoritative to a patron, and thus be satisfied that you had done an objective, professional job for them.  Little did we know that this house of cards would come down harder and harder, and that eventually the Internet would step in and provide so many sources,  so much information and knowledge  that to imagine an authority would be somewhat laughable.  I guess we can be forgiven
for that,  but to back up and imagine love and knowledge together is just to be blind sided again.


Preparedness

I think I've mentioned "to be prepared" earlier,  one of the major Boy Scout mottoes.  Today, in a world so complex it seems downright  quaint to even broach the subject,   September, has been deemed Preparedness Month.  By whom and why,  I don't know.  One radio show had an announcement about a kit of some kind by the American Red Cross.  (A note and call to them brought no response,  they are probably busy with people who didn't or couldn't prepare for things that happened to them (?);    just kidding.

Then I noticed something from the State of Wisconsin,  looked it up on the Internet and, bingo,  it was there.  Had something to do with Governor, with a list of suggestion about being prepared that would cost far more than people like ourselves could afford .... unless we had the time and fuel money to shop hard for the items far from here.   One of the major problems today,  of course,   is to have the resources to do what is undoubtedly agreed upon as necessary.

A month before last I sent a letter to some people in our surrounding community about a loose knit organization to deal with personal and group problems.  It seems that with the crescendo of issues and disasters around us it would be good to be able to "take it on"  together.  Another community not far from us has done this,  Prairie Farm,  and we have attended a few of their events,  watched and listened to the DVD they suggest on the so-called economy,  "Crash Course."

As the month of September progressed I began to wonder if anyone around us listens to the radio,  had any inkling that it was a month dedicated to preparation,  especially because not a soul responded to my earlier letter (?!).   I suppose I should take the advice of my inner voice and just "get a life."   What do you think?



Monday, September 17, 2012

Scattered - Conclusion

Let's not jettison the U.S. Postal Service.  It is not too much of a stretch to imagine the corporate take over of our invaluable Postal Service and then outsourcing it in order to squeeze the profit out.  Who is confused here?  Go, go Wall Street Protests.  Next month is Preparedness Month (?),  "Be Prepared" the quaint Boy Scout slogan I grew up with.  What is  u r g e n t enough to be prepared for in these times? Poverty, starvation, thirst,  homelessness?  Hey,  let the good times roll.  James Howard Kuntsler (of "The Long Emergency") may have something to say about this in his new book "Too Much Magic."

Discontinuity precludes conversation and personal memory (about other people's needs?),  "May the Circle Be Unbroken, in the Sky, Lord, in the Sky..."  It may be only in the stratosphere that continuity is possible,  where the circle can be unbroken.  We have created a society of dependence,  now especially in the corporate realm,  where it is soundly blessed by think tanks,  media, our government  and the ever lovin'  Tea Party.  Balanced budget?  I don't know if that is ever to be possible again, "entitlements"  are just too strong,  pervasive.

Frequent fliers are another version of our problem,  people with immense mobility desires, regardless of fuel problems,  security issues,  etc.  Personal indulgence was one of the backdrops of Thorstin Veblen's landmark work, "Theory of the Leisure Class."  It may be that this work needs to be revisited and updated to include indulgences of contemporary waste and personal prerogative.  Think of frequent fliers as those whose lives consist of unending indulgence in waste and personal forgetfulness, airplanes or no airplanes.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Scattered

Labor Day and no mention of  l a b o r anywhere,  except for statistics,  which are not good*.  The wagons are drawn up in a circle,  the "slings and arrows" coming in are not indigenous.  It is more like discontinuous shot guns blasts of a confusing array of media and mess.   Echoes of the Republican Convention part of the muddle,  described by the song words of Mose Allison (thinking of Romney's):  ..."your mind is on vacation,  you mouth is working overtime..."   & now we have the Democrats to look forward to in Charlotte?       * Farmer's Almanac:  "He Who Shuns Labor Labors Doubly."

In the recent past it seems that the Russian punk rock group,  Pussy Riot, has gotten itself in trouble with the Russian Orthodox Church,  Putin and the court system ... and are now are in a work camp for two years.   About the same time Eve Ensler's "Vagina Monologues"  have popped again all over the place,  which brought back a memory of a book in the 90s, "Femalia,"   "a photographic representation of women's genitals" ...  "they show that each human body is unique and beautiful..."  (Joani Blank, c1993,  There Press,  San Francisco,  Ca.)

In the early fifties,  Korean War duty,  I was introduced to words which had been extremely scarce in my high school and community,  pussy was one of them.  In fact,  Flexner's dictionary of slang was just on the horizon for bigots who not only wanted to keep the forbidden words out of society and its parlance,  books and libraries, of course.    My hazy memories of the young sailors using some of these forbidden words are strange,   some of the fellows brought regional equivalents which are still in my mind somewhere .... eg.  "beaver" for vagina, often spoken of in hushed tones,  fear and respect, awe (!).

And last but not least a more "prosaic"  thought;   as I listened to and watched the ("humble") bumble bee on the buckwheat this week.  This insect is doing to work for its endangered species,  and it is marvelous to behold.  Can this be one positive example of "nature" trying to right the wrongs that homo sapiens have wrought out there,  and will be bumble bee be able to withstand the "slings and dettos" that its cousin has suffered so greatly from?   Aye,  let us pray.


Monday, August 20, 2012

Many Rivers to Cross

In a dream/nightmare early this morning I am in a Mumbai/Bombay street setting,  with the neighborhood hounds (here in Otter Creek) baying over the field.  I have been making my way from one bureaucratic setting to another, looking for work ... in offices in old decrepit high rise buildings.  The streets are covered with people, strange vehicles,  loud with sound,  including the dogs,  and overwhelming with smells.

I am hungry and have found my way to a locked up large old American ("Detroitian) vehicle hidden in a small, scrubby brush area.  Unlocking it I retrieve a CD, lock up and quickly leave for the busy streets.  In the lobby of a high rise I am ushered to a stairwell and walk up a few flights to a huge floor of what appears to be small delicatessens/food stalls  a myriad of food smells,  noise of people,  confusion of food making, buying and bartering,  eating.  I find the stall and a man beckons me into a room behind the food area.

It is a tiny community radio station,  connected to some some electronic network (Internet?),  of course.  And then he presents my breakfast:  three very small pieces of bacon,  some flat bread and some chutney/jam, coffee.   As we sit on chairs he puts the CD into a player,  makes an announcement including my name and brings up cut #9, Many Rivers to Cross.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Being Human

Two of my spiritual mentors,  Frederick Franck and Bob Alexander focused upon the "human" as a factor in spiritual development and work.  Frederick edited a book on the subject,   Bob talked about it and was recently quoted in an article written about The Temple of Man after his death.  Why is it that this critical factor is most often forgotten in religious/spiritual writings and life?

One of the outstanding vegetable growers and human beings in our region was recently quoted as saying (and this is my paraphrasing):  Be good to people, almost everyone is in some kind of trouble now-a-days ....  As a "feeder"  (there will be a blog on this subject soon) she knows humanness from a deep and pervasive place.  Part of her life has been dedicated to what is known as a "transition alternative",   to enable folks to get ready for a time when our food will not be trucked thousands of miles in 18 wheelers,  our energy provided by distant, unreliable grids,  our children bused to distant schools.   STOP Petrochemical Dependency!

In an article about Alexander in the "east of borneo,"  March 14, 2012,  Kate Wolf describes his work and life and quotes from a "Bulletin to Temple of Man Ministry 1:   "In all this, persons come first.  None of the above is to be construed as a rule or regulation.  Humanness always comes first!"   see:
http//www.eastofborneo.org/articles/humanness-always-comes-f...   The title of Frederick Franck's book  is:  "What Does It Mean to Be Human,"  he was editor on this one.   And "To Be Human Against All Odds:  On the Reptile Still Active in Our Brain (Nanzan Studies in Religion and Culture).
See the description of Frederick Franck's life and work in the World Wisdom website.   Also,  there is a Bullfrog video aptly titled "The Art of Being Human;  A Portrait of Frederick Franck,"  written and directed by Emily Squires,  ISBN:  1-59459-669-1  

Enjoy your humanness,  more and more referred to by those who are trying to save us on our dear Planet, especially from corporate power and bureaucracy,  but especially from the many forces of impersonalization ... eg.  self deceit,  personal groveling,  digitalization via electronic devices.  

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Pilgrimage

Few of us get a chance to go on a pilgrimage;  my Sister,  Kathy, and her Husband,  Mark,  made it possible to go to Pacem in Terris and went with me.  Not only that,  but  my Niece,  Sophie went too,  and we went one step further and visited an outstanding farm only 10 miles away from Warwick in Pine Island.  That too was a pilgrimage of sorts.

Pacem in Terris is a spiritual center which does not wave its' flag as such.  The principles of it,  Frederick and Claske Franck fashioned this place out of an old ruined mill,  and today it serves as a place not only to hear deeply inspiring music,  but as a sculpture garden for Frederick's sculptures along the Wawayanda River, and for meditations and personal visits.   As we listened to the concert, marveled at the building and then walked the garden it was if I could hear Frederick's distant voice suggesting that there were still sacred places on this bewildered planet.  His book, "Fingers Pointing Toward the Sacred;  a Twentieth Century Pilgrimage on the Eastern and Western Way" came to mind,  the wisdom of its pilgrimages became something to review.

To sit with Claske after the concert and marvel at the place and the music was a deep pleasure,  and we agreed that the dearly departed Frederick was there with us,  as he was during the tumultuous rendition of Vidaldi's  summer season concerto ...   as a storm rocked the building, thunder and lightning gave other dimensions to the virtuoso performance.

The inspiring 100 acre W. Rogowski Farm was a marvel in itself,  and we were lucky enough to have a brief tour with the principle of it,  Cheryl Rogowski   (a MacArthur Genius Award winner).  Her/their "Grassroots Alternative to Organic"  is an operation of many facets,  a farm which is designed in its third generation family farm version is something to last,  to survive and thrive in good times  and adversity.     Check it out at www.RogowskiFarm.com.

Soon the picture of Claske and I will be joined by some pictures taken in both places.  In the meantime,  I invite you to look up Pacem in Terris at www.frederick frank.org.  They are on Facebook too.   The address is 96 Covered Bridge Road,  Warwick,  N.Y.  10990.  By the way,  don't miss a chance to go on a pilgrimage or two yourself  ... nothing quite like it ....

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Poverty in America

I highly recommend a book by Tavis Smiley and Cornell West,  "The Rich and the Rest of Us;  a Poverty Manifesto"  published by Hay House,  Inc./Smiley Books, c2012.  The book is the result of a national tour by Smiley and West,  plus appearances on PBS and other venues.    This is no academic exercise,  but the down-to-earth continuation of the work of Martin Luther King.   Here I would like to quote the description on the back page of the book:

"There are nearly 150 million poor and near poor people in America who are not responsible for the damage done by the Great Recession.  Yet they pay the price.  The poor did not create the deindustrialization of America, unmatched corporate profiteering and greed,  more than a decade of foreign wars,  and unregulated tax benefits to the wealthy  When the largest economic institutions in the world were brought to their collective knees, they went crawling to the government's doorstep in search of salvation.  The government obliged,  allowing Wall Street to socialize its failure on the backs of Main Street Americans.  The housing and jobs crisis they created fostered a poverty unseen in generations -- not just in inner-city ghettos and barrios, but also in suburbs and rural areas crossing racial, age and gender lines.  Nearly one-third of the American middle class -- mostly families with children -- have fallen into poverty."  

Where is the political discourse on this?  How does it play out in our collective social consciences?  We have got to "git real"  about this one, folks.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Ball Caps

A recent trip to New York brought up an old focus on ball caps.  It seems that they may have been designed originally for baseball players,  I'm not sure about that.  I suspect that checking in with the Port Authority company (100% cotton, "Made in Hong Kong") might shed some light;  they seem to make this type of cap for many markets ... the last two I've been given were made by them,  and thus they well may have some "authority" about the wearing of them (?).

On the airplane and in the airport, the wearers of ball caps never took them off,  they seemed to be part of their heads (and I've noticed this at other times and places as well);  the caps seemingly become  unnoticed by the wearer,  a built-in part of the person.  And then I remembered my Grandmother Roberts letting a visitor know (in no uncertain terms) that it was important to take hats off inside the house. Her sense of "civility"  went back to the early part of the past century,  when caps were thought about as an item of clothing which had to do with others and how they were seen by others.

Is this not the case now, what had arbiters of manners said about this in the past (Emily Post and Amy Vanderbuilt for example), and what about now?  I was surprised to hear one of the talk show hosts on NPR/WRP say that his subject for tomorrow is going to be civility ... how quaint!  I think I may listen if I get a chance,  perhaps even get in a call to the expert on the show about hats,  specifically ball caps.  My feeling is that Grandmother would have felt that the constant wearing of the ball cap as some kind of impertinence,  and I'm not sure I don't share that feeling.


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Summer Writing Time

This bog is dedicated to the creative writing classes in the Menomonie Middle School,  or better said the former students of those classes,  now in vacation for the Summer.  It was my pleasure to be with you in class this Spring and invite you to read and critique my Blog.  A couple of changes have occurred,  more will follow as I can get them done.  My hope is that some of you will have enough interest to follow what I am doing if you can.

In the meantime,  I encourage you to keep writing,  keep your minds as active as possible during a season that is often thought to be "out to lunch."  Why?;   because as your teacher, Jay Collins puts it,  there is power in writing... and in the thinking and in the words themselves.  It was the writer Dorothy Parker who said something to the effect to be bored is to have a serious curiosity problem.   One way to avoid that is to engage your mind,  curiosity and artistry in writing.

As I shared with you in your class,  I seriously envy your chance to have creative writing as a class in middle school.  It took me so many, many years to learn how to write,  and it would have been better for all concerned (for example,  my teachers,  professors) if I had learned earlier.  When I went into the Raw Deal a few weeks ago and found Jay talking with a group of students in there I was very pleased to know that these were high school students who continue to get together with him about their writing.  Voila,  continuity,  and I suggest that to you this Summer,  without Jay Collins.  Enjoy yourselves,  you will be better prepared for classes and thinking to come if you continue to write.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Muckrakers

When you study American history and literature the muckrakers show up first at the turn of the last century,   for example:    Upton Sinclair  ("The Jungle" 1906) and Ida Turbell  ("The History of the Standard Oil Company"  1904).  Typically muckraking happens during times of great turmoil and change,  and we have re-entered a time of heavy duty muckraking in our present historical period.

Jim Hightower and his "Hightower's Lowdown" is perhaps the best known of the left leaning commentators,  because of his media savvy, radio shows and such.  Amy Goodman  ("Democracy Now") is on the border line of muckraking with her sharp focus on things in the news which are usually either forgotten or minimized by the main stream press and media.   For the "right side" of the ledger,  the numbers of people operating on television (CNN, cable) and "talk radio" are virtually too numerous to mention.  Newt Gingrich is a well known political figure (presidential candidate up to a point) who indulges in muckraking without even giving what he says the degree of caution usually thought of by public figures. 

Whistleblowers might considered handmaidens to muckrakers,  but are more serious critics inasmuch as what they divulge has more serious societal implication and they can go to jail, be tried, lose their livelihoods,  marriages and worse.   The most famous of these at present would be Bradley Manning and Julian Assange  of the wikileaks movement.   It is said the present administration in Washington has pursued more whistleblowers than any proceeding administration,  perhaps because of political sensitivities, terrorism and other such concerns. 

It seems we need both of these categories of activities more than ever before.  In a society (or better said societies) in which there is heavy "information overload"/"media inundation," severe personal preoccupation and little or no critical sorting out of facts and data, we will need all the Jim Hightowers and Amy Goodmans we can get.  Living in Wisconsin at this time of political upheaval and manipulation it is heartening to know that the media and information outlets in this state are doing their best to sort out all the politicizing of information going on;    and that we may be able to look forward to the closest thing to a "fair election" in the month ahead. 

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Common Sense

It is generally agreed that so-called common sense is a rare commodity today. When faced with some seemingly obvious choices the results are often mind boggling, how can that "lateral arabesque" be taken for a way to proceed? Obfuscation is such a common way to go that it is assumed as logical (?), how can problems be solved with this modus operandi?

When the need for high technology savvy is mixed with the need for common sense things become even more difficult. I'm not saying that there isn't a marriage of the two, but my sense is that just as common sense is not taught, that an added problem is that it certainly is not taught combined with high technology problem solving.

This is even the case living in the country where farm machinery has become "high tech" and demands off-the-farm solutions and interventions. One supposes the marriages of technologies are a fact of life, but their solutions are not. It used to be that even the less than inclined could work on a car or pickup; today it is next to impossible. It seems that "higher education" (eg. vocational colleges) are in for some challenges. We can't be dragging our equipment off fifty or sixty miles, or pay for house calls, and we are not all going to be state of the art mechanics. Where are the compromises going to be?

Maude Victoria Barlow

We need saints now-a-days, especially those who deal with what Maude Barlow calls "underlying causes." Her recent interview on Alternative Radio pointed out that the present candidates for President of the United States are totally deficient in dealing with these causes, including critical infrastructures of all kinds, and especially w a t e r; and this includes President Obama, of course.

Let me just share a few resources on this outstanding Canadian woman: first, her facebook:
www.facebook.com/maude barlow. A recent publication: "Blue Gold: World Water Wars." & a slogan: "Water, water, not a drop to drink." Can we afford not to pay attention to our saints? Rachel Carlson, Vandana Shiva and Dr Helen Caldicott, to mention a few. I doubt it.

Earth Day is upon us again, and little is said in the press and media. I've called it our most important day of the year earlier in the Blog. We minimize it and its many concerns at our ultimate peril. In just trying to get the local town people involved I was faced with the attitude that "that is not my department." A reminder that the environment is every body's department was met with silence. What would have happened if water had been mentioned?

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Two Friends Who Have Passed

In the last month I have lost two individuals who I barely knew. Both of them were inscrutable, in a sense, one (Vicky Marie Wiegand) was a valued person of the community in which I live, the other a cat who was a drop off out here in Otter Creek in the midst of Winter. Although it may seem far fetched to combine them in this tribute, I hope I will be forgiven for doing so.

Vicky was a woman who had many careers and who played bass in a band I was privileged to hear three times. She was a survivor who lived with and fought breast cancer for 15 years. She had been a Mother and Grandmother, worked at many different jobs, a literacy volunteer and master gardener. She is survived by a loving family and many friends, including her life partner, Terri Golen. Vicky died on March 4th of this year, 2012.

A long haired black cat was found in our garage a few months ago. She was haggard, extremely thin, cold of course, and very weary. I was bound and determined to help her survive and have a life. She was accepted by the two corgie dogs in their cold garage setting, sharing a plug in heating pad and bed when things were really cold. She gained weight, showed a very feisty, individual self, and I started calling her Coal. By the time I took her to the Vet, she had socialized herself further and grey hair was coming through her black fur. Coal died on April 9th, and was buried the next morning; she had become more and more playful with the dogs, and my guess is that one of them killed her when the play might have gotten too rough.

I don't know whether Vicky had a totem animal, but in writing this account I wonder if it could have been a cat. She was an innovative person, seemingly unpredictable and yet extremely reliable with her friends and family. She and her partner built an off-the-grid solar home in Downing, Wisconsin, had a small, CSA vegetable farm, and shared a "wide variety of tomato starts" with their many friends. She travelled to Central America as part of her life and work with the Farmer to Farmer Coffee organization.

I wish these two could have known each other. They are deeply missed, and will be in people's memories for decades. Both were buried on their home turf; Vicky within a green burial on her own and Terri's land, Coalette in a shallow little grave which will soon see the addition of a fruit tree or bush as a part of that. The inscrutability of death is a part of their present legacy, one of the many tough lessons of impermanence.

* Cats Under the Stars was a rock band from the Iron Range, may they rest in peace, and most of the members are still going as I understand it. Highly recommended is band leader Paul Metsa's book, "Blue Guitar Highway."

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Life's Pace

This to revisit and proceed on from the earlier hippy/zippy/Mr Natural entry. You have heard from me before about torque, gear changes, and the like. Years ago, a least a long decade, I found myself looking at a bulletin board in a local hardware store in Minneapolis. There I found a card for a "cattery" advertising Maine Coon Cats. This breed has always interested yours truly because of their size and length (I think they still hold the "Guiness Book of Superlatives" record for both, domestic cat category, of course), Todd Bobo's place was just blocks away, and I had considered giving myself a retirement present.

A phone call later a visit was arranged, the new born kittens were around their mother, and there was a orange one ( prerequisite color) and it was soon evident that he was a contender. Not only was the color right, but he was already in fairly high gear, even though all his litter mates seemed to barely have the eyes open and were immobile. I said I wanted him, and Mr. Bobo warned me about his possible character problems.

I saw no problem, made a down payment and picked him up a few weeks later when he was properly weaned. He was definitely a zippy cat, who not only possessed memory and intelligence, but was seemingly a cat for life. His name, Cajun, was given by my dear Wife and partner, Joni, and he has lived up to it well. Now at 12 years old or so he is going strong, has solid torque and speed (eg. flying up and down stairs, going up the wall a bit for good measure at times) and can be an arm full at times. Not for everyone, but I came "out of the gate" much as he did and thus appreciate his gear ratios. (A picture will be posted of him, again in the near future.)

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Curiosity

Some years at this time my mind wants to search around in Sir James G. Frazer's "The Golden Bough." Why, because his was the first detailed description I found in my life about the origins of Christianity, especially of the pagan myths which are conveniently passed over by most Christians, including theologians and the present Republican presidential contenders.

A fellow sailor, who had studied philosophy at the University of Chicago, a steam engineer by trade, had pointed out this huge work of Frazer's in the fifties (originally published in 12 volumes, luckily Frazer's wife suggested a one volume abridgement, which they did together -- evidently, although in the edition I have, The Macmillan Company, c1922 -- it had gone through 12 printings by 1972, she is not given an iota of credit) . It is called "a world classic..." and was the reason he was knighted by the Queen in his lifetime.

The work is a huge monument to human curiosity and intellectual scholarship. I am amazed that it is so little known now-a-days. The copy I got from the local library had to come inter library loan from a high school library in another part of the state (the local library has a beautiful, heavily illustrated version which unfortunately is very short on content). Called "One of the 20th century's most influential books ... Sir James Frazer left a lasting mark on science, literature and history of western thought." Don't miss it, especially at Easter and Christmas times, but any time your curiosity about the past is active and searching.

Hippy & Yippy

A visit to a local middle school English writing class focused on this BLOG and solicited comments and request for improvement suggestions. One of the students wanted to know if I was a "hippy;" fair enough question since I have consorted with hippies, often partied with them and exchanged views, street, community, etc. My response was "no," that I was a "zippy," superficially a high powered "hippy," but the description/descriptions goes much deeper than that.

Like all monikers, the words are fictitious but useful at times. Just as I have always been suspicious and distrustful of diminutives and nick names, I have as well eschewed names which tend to be often used in dismissive way, to typify someone who is, in fact, which more complex and unfathomable when burdened with these names, eg, expletives used on people from minority groups.

Mr. Natural was a comic figure created by R. Crumb as a key person in his panoply of characters which depicted subcultures of that time, including, of course, hippies. Because Mr. Natch was on the zippy part of the spectrum (many of his characters were not, in fact most were not), he held a special place in American life of the sixties and seventies and I found myself putting a decal of him striding down the way on a window of my van (another question, I think by the same fellow, "did you have a van?). Well, this was a mistake, in part, because Mr. Natural then became one of my monikers, whether I liked it or not. With a beard down to my chest, it was if I were a younger version of this amazing comic character.

"So what?", as Andy Warhol would have said. In order to try and illustrate the difference a bit I pointed out to the students that Abbie Hoffman and his gang of merry zippies could be examined as exemplary of zippy activity. For example, throwing hundreds of one dollar bills around to the floor of the N.Y. Stock Exchange as a bit of political satire and avant garde protest antedating by many years the current protests against Wall Street. The spectacle of suited stockbrokers groveling and competing for one dollar bills on camera is certainly one of the most expressive examples of zippyness. Carry on.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

"Intangibles"

Last week a pair of old, quality scissors arrived from Practical Goods in St. Paul. Some of you may remember my praise of Wendi Ward's store some time back; in fact, some of you have commented on visiting there, and how pleased you were with what you found. I will not repeat the story, but hope you look up Wendi and her place, or revisit there when you can. Because of the "difficulties in the marketplace" (my words) she will be having a 20% off sale in the next few months. Please avail yourself. What follows are sentences from a manifesto of sorts from her called "About Those "Intangibles":


" -- We pay both property and sale taxes, unlike some charities, cyber businesses, etc. We
invite you to consider what this does for the community's "tax base."

-- We reuse and recycle locally.

-- We keep local money here in our community,

-- We don't push over consumption, or over packaging.

-- We don't push credit cards, debt slavery or high tech invasion of customer privacy.

-- We don't "feed" big banks or big shipping companies, and our prices will spare you that,
too. (Those guys have plenty already.)

-- We have a potty, and you can use it.

-- We don't condone or profit from exploitation of workers here or abroad.

SOUND GOOD? SHOP HERE. "

Carry on, Wendi Ward. at 1561 Randolph (near Snelling) - phone: 651 - 690 - 1122


Lapse of Consciousness

A hard fall on the ice this morning brought back several memories: one of an acquaintance's broken hip and subsequent trip to the emergency ward, an operation and then rehab; another of a young fellow who had gotten himself into the ditch not far away, with absolutely no circumstances around him to put him and his vehicle there (and that happened to me a couple of years ago as well); and a story recently of some one's encounter with a deer crossing when they had been looking down and not out of their vehicle. A lapse of just a second or two is all that it takes.

I come from a background of cautionary tales, both in literature and in family and friends stories. Thus it is very "natural" for me to want to share stories which I imagine may save people from hardship, pain, even death; and yet, there is something nagging my eighty year brain and that says that these tales are not exactly welcome in the present circumferences of consciousness. My hope is that this Blog will be of use, and not just the sounding board of an old, cautionary man.

I am convinced that nothing is going to prevent momentary lapses of consciousness, it is the may human beings think and don't think. This morning's fall could have been catastrophic, I was lucky. Will I "do better next time," I hope so. And I hope you do too, dear reader. Thank you for putting up with my cautions. They are well intended, as were those of my grandparents, uncles and aunts, parents, teachers and mentors. Sometimes unwelcome, but certainly well intended.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Mr. Careful

The family gathered at Castle St., and soon my Mother was asking me to step aside. Her question was, "are you racing motorcycles?" and my answer was a guarded "Yes." (I have referred to this in an earlier Blog entitled Carelessness/Careful Less). She was concerned, of course, and wondered if it might have something to do with my riding a "street machine" on the freeways and streets, and whether this might be considered a dangerous way to go. "Wouldn't it be better to just stay with the VW Bus?"

My response was that I would be careful, as I was with the Guzzi on the street; but then she reminded me that she had heard a story (probably slipped by my Father) that the Guzzi had sucked a valve at fairly high speed on the Santa Monica Freeway and that only luck and secondarily quick thinking had saved my neck. Again, I repeated that I was a careful person, first born male, stuck with responsibility and obligation, careful ways. She huffed when I said that my middle name was "Careful," to which she replied that it is was, in fact, "Lee," and that the words were not synonymous as far as she knew.

I tried to mollify her to no avail. She repeated her cautionary tales and I tried to convince her that this was a part of my so-called midlife crisis, was no more dangerous that driving a car in L.A.; and that my other midlife hobby, body surfing, although not completely without risks, was, in fact, fairly harmless ... as was motorcycle riding. She was having none of it, and then I told her that it wouldn't be long before both were going to be hung up because of an impending job change (to another state) where there would be neither surf nor motorcycles in the picture. Well, I was saved temporarily by this "paradigm shift," "What, you are going to New York, haven't said a word?." etc., etc. Julia was always one for going last yard with myself and siblings. Bless her Heart, she was great one.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Blog Writing

I've mentioned, in apology, my "policy" of not having a way for people to respond to my BLOG within the Blog. Fortunately many people have found their way around this to give me response one way or another. One of those mailed of a story in "Harper's Magazine" (Oct. 2009 pp. 64 - 66) by Jonathan Lethem called "The Dreaming Jaw, The Salivating Ear," in which the blogger, Jaw, tells of the perils of having The Whom and justiny moving around in the blog world.

The story, both amusing and alarming, takes you into the never never land of the blogesphere, where the pros and cons of blog life are examined. The Whom is menacing, and the Jaw extremely reactive to the menace. justiny wants to praise the Jaw, but seems to drop away when support is sorely needed: "A first appreciation has come. A tentative thing, a shred of sensibility, something that tiptoed in on little cat feet and graced me with praise. A he or she, I can't tell from the byline: justiny. i wuvvv your blog, justiny said, in a note, a seashell-pink crayon scribble on a fragile curl of tissue, the equivalent of a whisper, a thing I found stuck to my boot as I made my proprietary rounds, polishing brass railings and marble doorknobs and such like, and which I might have failed to notice."

Continuing, The Jaw says: "My blog loves you too, justiny, in its way. But I think my blog's love is more cosmic or Buddhist, more impassive and impersonal, than the need always to answer. My blog is for all ears that might listen, and who know how many might be? justiny happens to have piped up. (Barely.)" Dreaming Jaw, Salivating Ear.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Living on borrowed time

Coming North on Highway 25 a few weeks ago the visibility started to get worse, and the road icier. When I saw a car off the road on the far side and a sheriff's vehicle with emergency light on near it I knew it was time to hunker down. Shifting down and holding on I felt a thump under the front left side of the vehicle, and then we started to spin over the double line. I corrected as I could and kept on the gas, we were definitely on the wrong side of the street. As I fought to straightened it out I looked ahead; luckily nothing was coming downhill.

After crossing the double line and trying to get the vehicle back on course it started to spin again. This time I decided it was time to go into the ditch on my side of the road, and luckily was able to steer it into a fairly shallow snow area between the shoulder and the ditch. Then I looked around a little and decided to see if I could drive out of there, luckily we were facing North ... and did, with all-wheel drive, thank you Subaru. It was a harrowing drive and I was exhausted when I parked in the garage.

Sitting in front of the fire with the cat my mind went back to Buffalo, N.Y. where I first learned how to drive on ice (?). That school of hard knocks started on a trip home from the Airport, after some practice on local streets. The expressway had been worked by snow crews, the cloverleaf I had to take down to the trunk road hadn't; and we (my wife and very small children in car seats) went into a half spin down the grade. Luckily this was a great handing Peugeot with excellent tires. I got it almost straightened out with about 50 yards to go before a blinking stop sign, shifted down again and by the time we got to the sign were nearly stopped. I looked in the rear view mirror, luckily nothing coming behind us.

Pulling carefully around the corner on to the shoulder of the trunk road I waited for a break in the traffic. The road had been worked and so the trip home, although arduous, was uneventful. My life expectancy at that time was still on charts, perhaps twenty years to go. By the time I got to the couch after the trip up 25 I had outlived my life expectancy and was thanking "my lucky stars," and whatever small amount of skill I possess. Suggestion: standard transmission, all wheel or 4 wheel drive, good tires and all the coolness and experience behind the wheel you can summon. Adrenaline* rushes are very uncomfortable, and, I think, not very good for you.

* This really is epinephrine and isn't all bad, but keep it to a minimum, please.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Dark and Light

A friend recently reminded me that I have neglected the BLOG; this will be a feeble attempt to get "back on track." A recent trip to a local coffee shop found me looking at the bookshelves and other shelving units created by a local carpenter/log cabin builder, Mike Falls. My question was what are they for, besides backpacks and magazines & books? Are the books borrowable? Yes, and so my eye landed on a volume of stories by the genius of crime fiction, Elmore Leonard. A huge successor to the likes of Raymond Chandler this man takes it to the dark side of life, in the terrain of cops and criminals and where they often intermix.

His writing is excellent and it is tempting to me to deviate from my usual reading preferences and go on the dark side with him. Years ago when one of my sons was beaten and arrested by the Mpls. police for being involved with a political demonstration I got a glimpse of an inner city city hall/police dept. milieu, where police officers and thugs look alike, and where there is a feeling of fear about what is going on. And this in a city where the mayor was supposedly a progressive democrat, and the police chief an intellectual.

How different is a saint like Rabindranath Tagore's interest in the Jiban-debata and the likes of seeming opposites and the fiction of Elmore Leonard? Tagore: "The poet who takes up all the good and bad in me, all my constituent parts, the favourable and the unfavourable alike, to go on creating my life - it is he that in my poetry I call Jiban-debata." I suggest a walk on the wild side with both of these authors.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Xmas Mush

Gratefully we are well beyond the tiresome barrage of Christmas (show) business, and the extreme sentimentalization of Christ's birth. There is a lot of hokus pocus here, especially within the realm of the "historical Jesus." Be that is at may, we desperately need holidays, time to give and unwind, but it seems we are due for an overhaul with this one, not just the continuation of what has developed.

I have a couple of humble suggestions. First of all, seek to recreate this holiday with your own beliefs and needs. Resist those who would program you into a continuation of what has become an outrageous rerun of earlier, unacceptable versions. It may be that the extreme Christianizing of Christ and Santa Klas (and other accoutrement's) can be either dispensed with or minimized.

There is a considerable body of music, literature and lore which can be enjoyed in lieu of the tired old, worn out Rudolphs, hymns, customs and commercial off shoots. For example there are Christmas Concertos (Corelli?) and other beautiful seasonal music (Vivaldi) that could be well employed. The marvelous seasonal tales of Truman Capote and Dylan Thomas give a great uplift as well as mixing in the richness of other cultures.

I do not mean to suggest that we necessarily strip Christmas of Christ, or any of the like. But it would be wise to remember that this poignant time of the year (eg. Solstice and the other historical events which make late December latent with meaning and potential celebration) be respected in a larger sense. After all, it wasn't for no reason that the time of Christ's birth was moved to December (other times elsewhere), yes? Good luck with it this year, you've got some time to put it together.

Year End Review - 2011

1/2/11, a bit late for the review, but here it is anyway, it's been cooking for awhile. First of all, I want to agree with Amy Goodman, "Democracy Now"* and "Time: magazine, that 2011 was the year of the protester. All over the Globe, but especially on Wall Street and in Wisconsin for me/us. Unfortunately the protests are being carried out by less than 1% of the populations, while the power rests solidly within the l% who control the wealth, the military and police, the lobby driven power structure, eg. legislators.

So 2012 and beyond is time to hunker down, build up the number of protesters and activists to turn around what has so long been accumulating at the so-called "top." To be "fed up" is one thing, to act, of course, is another. Especially when actions are seen as possible loss factors for personal jobs, benefits, social services and the like. We have been driven into a defensive position by the forces of the 1%, and this has been reinforced by our conservative natures, our unwillingness to take chances for c h a n g e.

I want to suggest as my candidate for book of the year Sheldon S. Wolin's "Democracy Inc.," a powerfully researched and written work which documents how we have slid into a "Managed Democracy and the Spector of Inverted Totalitarianism" - the subtitle, of course. We need tough documentation and planning rather the reliance 0n well meaning rhetoric about the situation we are in; and we need the requisite tough advice on how to get out of the predicaments we are wallowing around in. It is show and tell time, and Wolin's book is one of those which cuts through the rhetoric and nonsense to let us know how to proceed.

I want to wish everyone a good, strong, activist year ahead. Thinking about the news item this week that 50% of the American population is approaching the poverty levels approximated by our government, and then some sayings I first heard during the depression in the thirties came to mind: "better safe than sorry," "beggars can't be choosers," and "don't kick a gift horse in the mouth" .... * look at Amy Goodman's website for today: Democracy Now.com.