Am I a Socialist?

“I think it's long past time to admit that socialism is the meat, potatoes, cabbages, and barley of civilization while capitalism is the opium, hashish, and cocaine.”
- J.M.Purser

Force majeure in the 21st century

The NY Times published an interview with Philip Levine in which he said, "There’s a kind of Protestant ethic that believes that if you’re really a good person, God will reward you with a full table and a garage full of automobiles and a beautiful husband or wife — that we should be judged by what the world has delivered to us."

Force majeure. Wrong then, wrong now.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/06/magazine/philip-levine-still-knows-how-to-make-trouble.html

Yellow Mercedes Benz Convertible

My father was an eminently practical man. At his funeral, many people spoke about his admirable ability to break a seemingly insurmountable problem into parts small enough to tackle. While he could not solve the troubles of the world, he could make a profound difference in his own community. He could, for example, do nothing about Pol Pot, but he could stand as father and grandfather to numerous Cambodian refugees.

When I was in junior high school, a quiz circulated among my sisters and our friends. I found it in its entirely on the internet today:

You are walking through a forest; describe it.
- Through this forest is a path; describe it.
- Along the path you come upon a key; what does it look like; what condition is it in? Do you pick it up?
- Farther along the path you find a cup; what does it look like; what is it made of; what condition is it in? Do you pick it up?
- As you continue walking, you come to an obstacle; describe it.
- What do you do? If you go around it or past it, then how?
- Next you happen upon a body of water; describe it. Do you get in it? How fast is it flowing?
- As you walk along, you come to a shelter of some sort; what does it look like? Do you spend the night?
- Finally, you’re walking along when you reach a fence; what does this fence look like; what is it made of; what condition is it in?
- Beyond the fence is a field; describe that. Do you go over the fence into the field?

The forest represents your outlook on life; how you feel (overall) about life.

- The path represents your plan in life, and is generally more current; i.e. how your life is being lived, or how you see it going.

- The key represents knowledge. If you pick it up, then education is important to you.

- The cup represents your view of love. Was it broken or fragile? Was it solid and complete, pretty, clean or covered with dirt?

- The obstacle represents the challenges in your life; how you normally handle them or deal with them.

- The water represents your sensual side. If you get in it, this means that you basically feel good about it. If not, perhaps you avoid it, or it’s not particularly important to you, or enjoyable.

- The shelter is your view of home life. Again, if you spend the night, it’s likely you feel comfortable about your present home situation.

- The fence represents religion. Does it have hard lines, or broken ones? Is it imposing, or easy to jump over?

- The field represents your view of heaven. Is it pleasant, or threatening? Do you go over the fence and into the field? If so, you’re probably not afraid of death.

I don’t recall that we asked all of these questions. I do recall clearly my father’s answers to some of them:

- he was taking the dog for a walk

- the key belonged to the front door of our house (which, incidentally, we never locked)

- the cup was a coffee mug, plain and sturdy

- the obstacle was probably a mountain which he climbed, the water a pond when he went around (as one of my sisters said at his funeral, there was no mountain he would not climb, and no body of water he would swim in)

- shelter was probably our house, home for the night

Everything about him was simple, uncomplicated, utilitarian

So, I was enchanted, at 15, to hear him say, “When I retire I’m going to buy myself a yellow Mercedes Benz convertible.” It appeared that my father did have a romantic and frivolous side after all.

About 10 years later, after he had retired, I asked him, “When are you going to buy your yellow Mercedes Benz convertible?” He replied that life and reality have a way of intervening sometimes, and it really was not at all a practical acquisition.

Another 10 years went by, and I came across a set of model cars in a catalog – a Volkswagen, a Porsche, and a Mercedes Benz convertible: yellow. Of course I bought them. I sent the Benz to my father for his birthday, reminding him of what he had said 20 years before. He was touched, but admitted that he had no recollection of having ever wished for such a thing.

This affected me deeply. I thought, how sad, to not only never achieve a dream, but to have forgotten ever having had it. I immediately went out and bough my own dream car, a red Volvo P1800 wagon.

And here’s the thing: that car disappointed me. It was so low to the ground that even at 35 I had trouble getting in and out of it; being so close to the road, I felt vulnerable in traffic; the kids quickly outgrew the back seat; it was totally impractical as a family car; and the frame was badly rusted. I sold it for a great deal less than I paid for it.

Which makes me wonder if my father was not right after all? Some dreams should be kept that way. Enjoy the fantasy. Don’t destroy it by bringing it to life.

Nobody loves me

Silly me.
Drake is Mommy's Monkey. She made the disastrous mistake of calling New Baby "Monkey." Once. Drake informed her, most emphatically, "No. I'M your monkey."
So, when I saw this monkey at Walgreen's just before Valentine's Day, I thought, "Wouldn't Drake love to have a monkey as big as he is?"
Wrong.
He studiously ignored it for weeks. When the balloon we were playing with landed in the money's lap, I had to get it. Drake was going nowhere near it. But when I asked if the monkey should go away, he say no.
Finally, last Friday, he told John that the monkey could go away.
Yesterday, John offered the monkey to young Master Alden who lives across the alley. Alden, is 2-1/2. Alden has never uttered more than one word at a time, in our experience. (That word is usually "Gracie!" our German Shepherd). Alden got an eyeful of Big Monkey and loudly informed his Grandma, Great-Grandma, and John. "No! I don't want the big monkey!"
Clearly there is some big monkey mojo going on that we adults are completely un-attuned to.

Where to?

I returned for 6 days in Mexico so much enamored of (with?) warm air and warm water that we are beginning to look at retiring in Belize. Seattle weather and work have conspired to reinforce that inclination.

Planning for the next gardening season

I have not transplanted the iris yet, although I did get the area between the front walk and the street rototilled. That area becomes perennials. No more mowing. I got a nice walkway laid so parking on the street does not mean walking in the mud to get to the front gate.

The chickens have been doing an excellent job of digging up the old beds and keeping the weeds down. It will be hard to contain them, come planting time. 8-ft fence? Chicken wire roof?

I think I will pass on planting tomatoes, onions, peppers and cukes this year: getting them to ripen at the appropriate times for salsa and pickles is beyond me. Between the cold spring and wet summer, most of what I planted last year went to the chickens. We have several CSA’s and farmer’s markets to choose from; better to buy there to satisfy my canning/preserving itch, and save my arthritic joints for what pays off abundantly: red potatoes, green beans, wax beans, black beans. We should get some asparagus this year, and I will put in a third blueberry bush. I want to try butternut squash; and Galeux D Eysines, it’s so delightfully warty, for Halloween.