The Intestines of the Earth

Aristotle called worms, "the intestines of the earth." The squeamish may not appreciate it, but I received one pound (about 1,000 of 'em) of red wigglers from my wife for Christmas. Anyhow, these guys are top of the line in the worm composting world, and they have a nice home in my basement with a nice steady supply of kitchen waste to chow down on. So now I'm officially a worm rancher and a trafficker in worm excrement (aka castings, or vermicompost). Aren't you jealous!!!

I'll provide a more thorough update later, but I've been too busy getting to know my new friends and building them a home to be proud of. I always spoil my pets.

Y'all have a happy New Year.

**Ching** and bling bling

So it turns out I might need a root canal or some such nonsense for one of my precious, meticulously maintained, beloved teeth. My ear is even sore because of it. Jeepers creepers, I'm sure looking forward to what the tooth man has to say. Just tryin' to stretch it out to next year for insurance reasons. Uphta this puts me in a foul mood, but it sure was nice to see some real comments after my last post. Sort of puts the Christmas cheer back into my rather bulbous head, cool heart, and helps my poor discouraged tooth to accept the encouragement from the happier, better advantaged teeth on the other side of my cavernous mouth with their blinding white facades who have always looked on in leisure while the ones in this neighborhood trudge through the daily chores.

So anyway, I'd love your opinions about Sam's Club. I guess you could even rant about Walmart if you wanted to. We're up for our renewal, which would cost us $40 for the privilege to wander through their characterless warehouse dropping $100 bills as we go. Suffice to say I'm not so excited about the place, but my lovely wife seems to enjoy it. We only go once every couple of months, but I'd rather spend that time having quality time with the family rather than devoting an entire valuable afternoon with the rest of the consumer herd pushing massive carts around chock full of stuff. What are your thoughts? You can come at it from any angle you want ($ savings, time wasted driving to distant big box, workers' rights, the effect on local businesses, other various positive things,...), and I'll respond. I don't want to prejudice your opinions just yet, but the thing that chaps my hide the most is that after spending all that money you don't have any bags or anything to put all your stuff into. So you scrounge for whatever random oddly shaped boxes that used to house chicken livers,..., that may or may not be available. It's like shopping in Haiti! Of course this isn't a life or death type deal either.

Twas a good comment from Goodman tagged onto last post. Didn't know the original translators of Kierkegard were from good old Hovland, and such an interesting paradox that the presence of time-saving devices (by inference) could actually put a brake on one's potential to produce great work, .... I couldn't agree more. I've never read Kierkegard besides a few quotes by golly, and still have a lot of catch up work to do on that life long reading plan.

Well God bless, and don't forget to both brush and floss tonight!

Small is the New Big

In the 19th century, Margaret Fuller succinctly observed, “Some People for the sake of getting a living forget to live.” It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to realize that unfortunately in our era this isn’t just the case for some people, but most. In a world with so much capacity to produce awe and wonder, the opportunity to worship as we choose, family and community to sink our roots into, meaningful relationships and friendships that could be developed and appreciated like fine wine, and almost limitless possibilities on a daily basis that would allow us to really suck the marrow out life, most of us are truly boring.

Much of this stems from the fact that we are distracted by the all-consuming pursuit of small meaningless careers in order to pay for, maintain, and fill our oversized houses. This constant struggle is like chasing after a strong Nor’easter in a vain attempt to fill a void. Thoreau got it right when he mused, “…the cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.”

Recently I stumbled upon one of the more noteworthy proponents of the Small House Movement, Jay Shafer. Go to his website, Tumbleweedhouses.com, and be blown away by the notion of a viable smartly designed 100 square foot home. These people are clearly extreme, but are very useful in helping the rest of us average folks come to grip with the reality that what we have is more than adequate to meet our needs.

The premise of this architect’s ideas is that a home should afford what is essential for comfort, but without the added burden of so much unused space. Contrary to the common notion that a vast house symbolizes the good life, these places in actuality can promote a life of drudgery. Shafer laments the fact that mortgages can devour 30-40% of a household’s income not even counting taxes, insurance, and maintenance. Uh……gulp. For many of us half the work week or even more is going to support our bloated furniture and entertainment warehouses. If every spare penny is going to house payments, heating bills (Shafer would spend just $170 for an entire winter!), etc, there is very little left to invest in charity, continuing education, hobbies, or whatever else truly brings fulfillment (not that money could possibly buy this). He is right in calling these oversized houses debtor prisons rather than a home.

Even Nietzsche (normally not to be included in one’s guidebook for happiness) saw this and remarked, “Truly, one who possesses little is so much the less possessed.” Possessed is indeed the right word. Even more important than the greenbacks one must shell out every month for his or her castle, is time (which includes extra time spent on the corporate treadmill, oops I mean ladder). Think of the things you will think of on your deathbed, which you will wish you only had a little more time for. These may include spending quality time with your children, experiencing the highs and lows of artistic inspiration, spiritual quest and fulfillment, reading the classics, cultivating a garden, or maybe just plain old relaxing.

Simplicity tends to cause us to focus in on that which really matters. Don’t get sucked into the popular notion that success entails earning more, spending more, and gaining more square footage. Most of the readers of this column, however, have chosen to live in this beautiful part of the country, and have already forsaken greater opportunities for financial gain elsewhere. This is such a short life. Live it to the fullest, and don’t get trapped into drudgery. Furthermore, next time you have a dreaded class reunion, think not upon how little money you are making or that you haven’t obtained that corner cubicle yet. Instead, measure your success against that which truly matters, and if you are at all like me and aren’t “there” yet, do something about it!

Great Work Begins as a Seed

So I got my mediocre little column (well more like two of 'em pasted together) published in one of our papers up here. Though it isn't a paying gig, it's a real lesson that you don't have to wait until you have your very best work or maximum inspiration to start pursuing your dreams. I know I'm awfully bored with my 9 to 5 and frankly it's time I started doing something about it. I encourage you to do the same. It takes hard work, perseverance, and you've got to start some where.
I think my next dealio is going to be a look at an architect involved in the small house movement. Check the link for tumbleweedhouses.com. It'll blow you away to see viable houses at 100 square feet or even less. It's very convicting because we have got to be about more than maintaining and paying for our oversized houses. Now if I can only get to it between all my projects around my own money pit!

A McCain Reign to Ease the Pain?

So I sent the following as a sample to an editor of a local newspaper looking for readers to contribute occasional columns. I guess I'm just sort of feebly searching for my voice as I finally get off my hind end and write again. This is not an endorsement for or against any candidate by either Crazy Eddy or his staff.

The battlefield has been perfectly arranged for John McCain to ride in on his white horse among the wounded and save the day for both conservatives and moderates. This former war hero will cruise through the primaries by emphasizing bread and butter conservative issues: a strong national defense, reducing the size of government, cutting wasteful pork barrel spending by passing the line item veto, an emphasis on exercising fiscal discipline, lower taxes, and a promise to appoint judges who will interpret the Constitution rather than legislating from the bench. These issues, referred to as common sense conservatism, are the themes of his early campaign, which frankly has more wind behind it than any other candidate at this stage since Ronald Reagan.

His appeal to moderates is palpable due to his famous independence, crusade to end corporate welfare, his perceived incorruptibility at the hands of evil special interests, a genuine concern for easing our dependence on oil, straight talk, and the fact that the majority of the electorate is right of center. In the end he will steamroll through the primaries with half of social conservatives endorsing him as the best candidate to defeat their great nemesis in the fall, and the other half being diluted between a couple other non contenders who will quickly be overwhelmed by the McCainiacs.

Though his greatest competition will be with himself until then, is there any doubt who will be his ultimate rival? The presence of the fresh yet unseasoned Barack Obama could make the opposing side’s primaries interesting, but he will not win the pole position. It is difficult to comprehend how a junior senator who hasn’t had time to distinguish himself could decide to run for the Presidency at the dawn of his political career. The example of JFK, however, will encourage him to take the plunge. On a side note it is interesting to observe that every President elected in the 1960s beginning with Kennedy were spawned in the Senate, which clearly bucks the historical trend favoring governors.

John Kennedy was also a young, handsome, articulate man. He came along at the right moment in history, yet he too as a junior senator did not stand out tremendously from his peers. He was photogenic, charming, and a rising star as well. Circumstance provided the opportunity of a lifetime and he capitalized on it. Likewise, Obama will understand that he won’t be a young star forever with the ability to inject new life into the political arena. If he waits someone else will eventually overshadow him. Perhaps of greater importance is the draining effect that controversial votes have on any candidate. That said, Obama’s valiant campaign will eventually succumb to Hilary’s powerful political machinery that has prepared for the better part of a decade for this moment in time. However, his electrifying stump speeches and popular support will prove far too tempting for Mrs. Clinton to pass up in favor of a more boring and lifeless running mate.

Ultimately McCain and his VP selection, our very own Tim Pawlenty, will triumph handily as the famous Reagan Democrats return to restore balance to the force. After which, our current governor will look forward to a retirement date in January of 2025.

Well since we’ve got that settled, lets start thinking about other things far more interesting than politics.

buckets of sap and bittersweet fruits

So I'm reading a book by Gladys Dimock called A Home of Our Own, which tells the story of her young family after moving from Chicago to a remote farm in Vermont shortly after World War II. Abandoning their cramped basement flat with small windows looking up at the shuffling feet hurrying along the sidewalk for the freedom of the farm was not unlike emerging from a cocoon, though it was difficult for them to abandon the security of a reliable paycheck with a new baby. It is an inspiring story of the pursuit of a dream and a better life.

Incidentally, this reminds me of a fantastic visit my wife and I had just a half hour out of Quebec once in the far north of Vermont. It is really beautiful country out there, and the people are a real hardscrabble independent lot. Anyhow we stayed with the parents of a friend in a simple wood heated home with windows overlooking a classic view of the rural northeast that hasn't changed much since our founding fathers were still above ground. A night of cooking down a couple hundred gallons of maple sap to syrup over a large roaring woodstove in the sugar shack with large snow flakes gently falling outside was one to remember.

Back to our story though, I have been struck by the fact that the author begins telling her story some 90 odd years after the publishing of Henry David Thoreau's influential book telling the tale of his "experiment." The author doesn't mention this classic as an influence, but one can't help but use it as a reference point. What is striking is the thought of how much had changed within the span of a single lifetime since Thoreau left Walden Pond. This was an era of accelerated "progress" greater than any in all of human history. Four major wars of increasing barbarity and scope, the transcontinental railroad, the fulfillment of Manifest Destiny and dozens of stars added to the American flag, numerous world changing inventions such as the automobile, airplane, telephone, electricity, radio, television and the frisbee, as well as the onset of the Atomic Age, to name a few, would all have been vividly experienced by an individual born in 1854. We are still tasting both the bitter and sweet fruits of this flowering of creativity, which incidentally was marked in its earliest years by mankind's greatest works of literature and art. Well the extreme degree of change in daily life and the massive industrialization caused a longing in many individuals to get back to the land in the post WWII era that persists to this day, as well as in the head and heart of the one incessantly pounding on his keyboard now (as if 40 hours a week in front of a screen isn't enough!).

Children of this industrialized concrete jungle clearly have missed out on a great deal, and have become shallow, self absorbed, and soft to a great extent. It's really interesting to observe the busyness with which people move through life along with their ipods and cell phones completely oblivious to the world around them. It is a constant busyness with very little of anything of value ever really being accomplished. This week I saw a story about the debuting of Sony's Playstation 3 in Japan, and the tens of thousands jockeying to have the opportunity to waste their money before someone else beat them to it. Japan is one of those areas in the world that for literally thousands of years has been a very traditional and fiercely independent society, and it is incredible to see how this sort of frivolousness is westernizing their youth at record pace. Less than a generation of this style of westernization is causing a general unraveling that had been feared over 150 years ago when the first gun ships appeared near Tokyo to force trade. Their kids are becoming just like our kids, namely self absorbed punks. Don't misunderstand me as worshipping their society. It is just one of several places where even a young punk like myself can observe the change taking place even within my 3 decades.

Well, I never did get to wax poetically about the importance of both manual and mental labor, but I think you get the general idea. If you actually made it this far through my incessant rambling your persistence would produce greater dividends by diving into a truly great work: War and Peace by Tolstoy which was a part of that flowering I spoke of.

dirt commish

Well I have to say that yesterday's election really ticked me off. The fact that the Dems steamrolled to victory in Congress was no big surprise. However, the fact that the back side of my ballot had not one but three separate Soil and Water Commissioner positions to vote for was baffling, befuddling, and downright stupid! So apparently I live simultaneously in soil district 2, 3, and 5. How does someone vote for the best soil and water commissioner? What if the person with the prettiest name knows a heck of a lot about soil but not a dang thing about water? I would wager that 99% of the working stiffs that went to vote yesterday knew about as much about this coveted position as me. What exactly does this person do? Furthermore, the fact that you've read this far is a bloomin' miracle because I don't think anybody cares. For whatever reason this just sort of got under my skin, and true to this whole blogoverse phenomenon, I feel better having spilled the beans. So goes my first foray into blahgging.
Of course, like most folks made mostly of water, I spend every working day entirely removed from what the above "politician" deals with as I'm huddled deep within the bowels of Corporate America in a sterile semi-cubicle. Of course this will likely be the theme of several future rants. So Godspeed, and get on with it. Don't wait for some public "servant" or office manager to fulfill your dreams.