Hysteria

I often think of the word "hysteria" when I view television ads or programs, or observe public advertising or life extremes (in town, in the Cities). Is it my reaction or are these some manifestation of hysteria? When I explained this to one of my sisters she was offended, as if I was describing a norm as something abnormal (?). For example, people running around in a car showroom, as if their lives depended on it, or the fast food ads which have people taking enormous bites out of junk food sandwiches. Or the hyperdrive activity of sitcoms, which are supposed to be funny, and which are backed up by canned laughter. I don't know, perhaps it is my age.

"dinosaur without a mate"

In the concluding chapter in the legendary book on barbeque, "Smokestack Lightning," the author quotes Frank about the future of barbeque in America: "You know, " Frank says, looking around, "what we have here is a dinosaur without a mate." Which sums up a lot of enterprises, from GM right down to a local store not connected to a national chain. If you don't have a "bail out," or a sugar daddy connexion to Wall Street/Feds you'd better enjoy your dinosaur status, and hope for the best. Let the good times roll.

Speaking of the apocalypse, don't miss the production "Collapse," featuring author, ex-police officer & reporter, Michael Ruppert. This mindboggling production documents life beyond peak oil & 9/11 in an alarming, basic way. This is available on DVD, of course, I got it from the public library. Can we avoid "global disaster," (?), this is a primer on the subject.

Alexander & Aaron Roberts

Alexander is auspicious, draws attention to himself, and thus gets a lot of publicity. Lately he has won the James Beard Award and thus more attention is coming his way. The sad thing is that most of this attention is superficial, not focusing on his true contribution to the health of food, as well as the taste and presentation of it, the way he treats (and holds) his employees, his deep and continuous support of local growers (vs. the recent, faddish implications of this), and agriculture itself, and his deep devotion to family. It is one of the highlights of my life to be able with my partner in life, Joni, to deliver vegetables to his restaurants, invite his staff out here to enjoy and work in Otter Creek, to celebrate the soil and plants with them.

Aaron is a carpenter, a builder, someone who can fix things, figure out what went wrong and get to it. He has done a lot of work with his brother, and he has been invaluable to us in Otter Creek. His profession is under rated because so much of the building trades are (perhaps unwittingly, employment is critical) involved in building structures which are not really respected; built not to last but to sell. Recently Aaron sent me an article which rates carpenters along with other trades and professions. Guess what? They come in 237th "out of the 250 most common -- or most visible -- jobs in America, according to the recently published "Jobs Rated Almanac." Garbage collectors ranked three places back at 240. I wonder how chefs ranked, or cooks for that matter (?).

Personal note

I have neglected this Blog because of fall work (putting the farm "to bed"), harvest, firewood, and assorted tasks. Plus a trip West for a reunion with my dear siblings and the 50th Anniversary of The Temple of Man. Besides the unnerving entry into post 9/11 airport life (not as bad as I expected) and an all night Greyhound Bus ride (OK too) I would say that sensory overload and over stimulation were my only difficulties; together with the accompanying fatigue. I may indulge you, dear reader, with some more observations from this trip and work at a later date. For example, the Day of the Dead celebration in the Mission District of San Francisco, or the Petrified Forest in the upper end of Napa Valley, and garlic planting.

authenticity

The word seems old fashioned in this disingenious world, doesn't it? But people like Robert Jensen are still trying to define it as something to be lived: "Authenticiy comes when your thoughts, your words, and your deeds have some relation to each other. It comes when there's a real organic relationship between the way you think, the way you talk, and the way you act ...." In a world driven by relative reality the authentic is in a shaky dance with a tottering, tattered superstructure of "reality."

A millionaire stepping back from his computer after having scanned the present evaluations from Wall Street, walks through his vast backyard around the pool, and down through the gate to the pier to fire up his spacious Chris Craft for a trip to the yacht club for breakfast. His authenticity will be tested as he navigates the relative realities of the channel between his home and club.

An aging Vietnam vet starts his day by arranging things in his sparse, small but comfortable apartment. Government benefits have finally caught up with him and now he can dress warm with his Goodwill clothes. He double locks the door and climbs up the stairs to the cluttered street. Two blocks away is the welcoming diner. Buon appetite.

Several years ago I found myself coming in for a landing at the Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport. I was seated in first class because they had overbooked the flight, and my companions next to the window were what I took for a very wealthy man and his young blonde escort. He had been describing a variety of things which were meant to impress. The last thing I heard him say was
"that you could tell what was really happening with metropolitan area by the number of corporate jets on the ground." Now I wonder how far he got toward or in his, and how that young woman has progressed with her authenticity.

Redundancy

The unwelcomed repetition of concepts, stories or whatever are an anathema to me. I have had this feeling for my entire life, and as I get older I fear that I may or will start doing this (perhaps I already am?). I have watched friends and acquaintences do it, have had to ask them not to tell a favorite story for the umpeenth time, and it is painful to do. They, after all, are excercising what is left of their memory, they have found something to share. And I am going to ask them not to? This is a deep dilemma.

I find media indulging in repetition in an unhealthy way, for example NPR/Wisconsin Public Radio. Slogans are aired so often as to be completely meaningless, as are requests for support/membership, etc. The spots aired to give credit to commercial and noncommercial organizations come around so often as to make me wonder if the radio staff ever listen to the station/network, have any understanding of how this repetition can undermine their work (?).

Am I too sensitive to this? Must I desensitize myself as I get older, with the hope that others may be more forgiving than I've been? Vamos a ver.

The Obvious

My partner in life sometimes complains about something she describes as "the obvious." It is as if I insult her by saying something that is a "foregone conclusion," not necessarily trite, but unwelcome. I don't mean to insult her, of course, and thus find myself apologizing for what I probably intended as a clarification. Often the obvious is unspoken because clarification is not deemed important, and could be unwelcomed as mention above.

Something that might seem obvious is the thought that a lot of what one knows is in a general stream of consciousness, out of which we may pick a combination of concepts/words to solve or describe a problem new or different to us. Specialists might not go through the trouble, since the process does not interest them since the subject or problem does not fall within the purview of their specialization. How to manage the obvious without insult to others? It seems that risks must be taken one way or another.