new critter!

It's August in Florida, which means a new abundance of creepy crawlies have found their way to the area. And not just UF undergrads. Check out this little cutie:



Awww. I'm already envisioning ways he too could be creatively snuffed out. (Not that I'm busting out the salt or anything - I know enough to let nature take its ever-interesting course.)

The thunderstorms brought him out. Now that I'm over the two-months-of-living-in-soup deal, I've realized Florida is a great place to live for a thunderstorm geek. Which I've been all my life - I've ruined many a conversation by completely losing track of it when the weather gets interesting. Ominous rumbles in the sky are just so COOL. And here, we get them every day during summer.

My back wall being all glass looking out on the courtyard, it's a fantastic view watching the rain pummel down through the trees, making small ponds in the lawn. I've spent the afternoon in sweatpants poking around on the guitar and watching the flood outside. These are the best kind of days - sleeping in till you couldn't sleep if you tried, buzzing around the kitchen on good coffee, belting out the Rolling Stones into a spray bottle after cleaning up cat puke. Cat puke does not factor into the best of days but you get the point. I've gotten her back by annoying her with all the attention I deprive her of during the week. It appears she does not want to hang out that much after all. However she deeply enjoys my air guitar performances. I think.

This blog obviously had very little point. Really there have just been so many great thunderstorms these days and I wanted to let you all know. And I'm not doing aaaaaaanything else of import today, so here we are.

But to amend for having wasted your time, I'll share three interesting things I discovered yesterday:

1. The Ukelin.

Otherwise called the bowed psaltery or violin zither. As you can see, it's one ass-backward looking instrument. Apparently most other folks in the early 1900's thought so too, as the door-to-door salesmen who touted it were less than successful in perpetuating its popularity through the generations, as it were. Still, it's cute in that the note is labeled for EVERY INDIVIDUAL STRING (accessible for extra-beginner musicians), open chords can be strummed at the bottom, and the peripheral strings further up can be played with a bow.



2. Ice Hotels.

But for real. Hotels made ENTIRELY out of ice. You can find them in Norway, Sweden, Iceland, and other places that can get away with such things. They're temporary, obviously, but incredible - even the beds are made of ice, slept on with reindeer hides under arctic sleeping bags. One place hired a crew of Japanese ice artists to create an exhibition of ice art in the hotel. They rebuild the entire hotel every year from scratch.



3. You're out of your element, Donnie.

For all you Big Lebowski fans in your robes with White Russians, I met an aficionado named Rusty who not only knows his Lebowski, he knows his bowling. He plays in the minor league and owns two pro shops here in town. And he tells me the Dude's not exactly on his game. For a movie about bowling, there are numerous inconsistencies and technical inaccuracies in the bowling scenes. The old adage, apparently, is wrong: you CAN fuck with the Jesus. Because according to Rusty, he's not even using the right ball. Take that, Pedor-ass.

the gift of good land.

I don't normally quote so extensively, but Wendell Berry wrote this brilliantly (he is always brilliant) in "The Gift of Good Land" in 1981. 1981. So it's rare to be read nowadays, but it should be.

It's about the Papago Indians in Arizona, who sustained themselves for centuries in the difficult desert climate. They succeeded because of careful agricultural practice, hunting, and harvesting at least 275 species of wild edible plants.

"In response to their meager land, the Papago developed a culture that was one of the grand human achievements. It was intricately respectful of the means of life, surpassingly careful of all the possibilities of survival. ...Giving and sharing were necessarily their first principles. The people needed each other too much for individualism and dissent.

The result was paradoxical: in these almost impossible circumstances, the Papago achieved... a 'society of abundance'. The poverty of our own 'affluent society' never existed among them."

When the white folks came along, they intervened and "taught" the Papago self-sufficiency. They were educated about modern agriculture and tractors, wells were dug, the cattle industry was introduced. Charles Bowden writes:

"A half century after the commissioners' optimistic forecast, the Papago are not respected by their white neighbors and are not self-supporting. They now have a groundwater problem, an overgrazing problem, and an economic problem. The society of abundance is gone."

Back to Berry. "There is a conflict between the operations of a cash economy and traditional, local systems of agriculture. It is easier to buy your food than to grow it. It is hard to persuade a community to grow its own food once it has become available for purchase.... It is easier to drink soft drinks and throw the containers out the window than to practice the difficult disciplines of health and frugality.

And so the society of abundance becomes dependent on a society of scarcity, consuming exhaustible resources as rapidly as possible in the conventional American Way, and leaning on the fragile props of inflated cash and government programs. And so the intricate, delicate culture so responsive to the needs of desert life is gradually replaced in the mind by modern restlessness and the desire to shop. And so the body loses its resilience and strength as its purchased diet is converted to fat."

Berry talks about a "society of abundance" I've never known. And my society - which looks far more abundant but consumes natural resources like it's going out of style - would find the Papago way completely inconvenient. Live off wild plants? Hunt my dinner? Not likely. And as a budding professional, I get that. I have the luxury of spending my life addressing the ills of human behavior. Which are very real. And which I couldn't invest in AND farm my own food. The benefits of a cash economy include greater advances in science, healthcare, and technology.

But the drawback is that it diminishes our self-sufficiency. It depletes the relationship between us and what keeps us alive. No, I can't till my own field. But I can make my own meals instead of eating out or heating up a box. I can choose nutrient-rich foods instead of obliging my penchant for sweets with calorie-free laboratory creations. I can support those who do grow their own food, and who do it with consideration for the earth they use to grow it. And I can get myself there on a bike or on my feet. It's inconvenient, yeah, and I know it's hard to choose that when we're used to life at breakneck speed where everything's on hand.

But it gives me ownership of part of my own sustenance. And it feels good to do something besides consume. To support myself, to support someone else living conscientiously. Growing up I didn't even notice how little I contributed to anything. I couldn't have imagined a half hour walk when I could do a 10-minute drive.

I'm beginning to learn what I'm losing by having everything so easy. I take everything for granted. Going slower is an annoyance, not a blessing. Well, it used to be. :) Now I wouldn't have it any other way. I want to participate in what's on my table. I want to participate in everything that gets me from A to B. It's teaching me gratitude, and patience, and wonder.

American life will never be like it was with the Papagos, or as it is in many parts of the world today. For all our advances and conveniences, I regret the depletion of simplicity that expansion necessarily incurs. But I hope we won't regret the expansion itself. I hope it makes us smarter, sharper, stronger. I hope that smartness leads us back to greater respect for and connection with the natural world. I hope that strength leads us back with a knowledge that helps us continue to provide for a growing world while sustaining the earth from which provisions grow.

I hope I'm not too optimistic.