Green Ass Kicked

Today is Earth Day. It is a day first designated as an environmental awareness event back in 1970 and is largely the birth of the environmental movement. So we’ve been at this now for almost 40 years as a society.

Hmmm. I’m feeling like we could have done more by now.

I’m not discouraged, however. There are great signs in our world to indicate that a green momentum is taking a stronger foothold. In my line of work, the marketplace shows that not only is green building continuing to thrive, but might hold one of the keys to our economic crisis. It is, in fact, a cornerstone in President Obama’s economic stimulus package by touting current stimulus programs as an opportunity to rebuild the country in ‘Green”.

Two birds, one stone. A green W.P.A. in 2009.

“We know that there are buildings – school buildings, in particular, but I think public buildings generally – that need to be retrofitted to make them more energy-efficient.” ... “We will get that money back so that not only are we creating jobs, but we’re also making those operations more efficient and saving taxpayers money over the long term.” – President Obama

Brilliant. And it’s about time. Our perception of a physical building or a house or a school is about to change. We are about to see public construction go green in an effort to boost our local economies (hopefully sooner rather than later … Do you hear me California State Legislators?).

So, what did I do to celebrate Earth Day 2009? I registered to take my LEED Green Associate (LEED GA) accreditation exam. I have a month to study. The exam is in May.

LEED (Leadership in Energy Efficient Design) is a rating system for facilities that has been in the marketplace for around 10 years via the United States Green Building Council (USGBC). The expertise is growing. Green construction is thriving. The cost of green building is no longer expensive and rather competitive with “traditional” construction. Case studies and new schools of thought are abundant. So, why not go green!

Saving energy and saving the planet is simply logical. There is no argument to the contrary. Every day is Earth Day. In the booming construction times of just a few years ago, it was the dollar that ruled. Just get it built and flip it was the argument from the era of excess. But a few months ago, that era ended.

We are about to see a change in the way our immediate cultures look at our homes, schools, public buildings, and even retail facilities. We are about to see a push for greater accountability, social realization, and a broadening awareness of our responsibility. For when our built environment consumes more than 30 percent of our total energy and more than 60 percent of the electricity, we need to take stock in our every day practices. When, in the United States alone 5 billion gallons a day of potable water is used just to flush our toilets, it might not be a bad idea to utilize new, highly effective, waterless systems. Don’t get me started.......

The far-reaching influence of our built environment necessitates a universal action to reduce our impact. Period.

Let the 39 year old Earth Day kick your ass in gear. It did mine.

Act 1, Scene 1

He just bought a new battery for his computer. He hasn’t purged out the text from his mind in a long time. It has been months and the battery was the excuse. It now seemed a requirement to sit on the leather couch with the big pillows, feet propped up on the dark wood table next to his Guinness, and a fire going in the fireplace (no Dura-flame here, no sir, just matches and a single sheet of newsprint). It is a new house after the divorce. A new space. A new couch. New pillows. Everything was newish at least to him. So, having to be tethered to a wall outlet just didn’t work in his mind. It didn’t feel right.

The battery was now installed so no more excuses, right?

He sits somewhat uncomfortably though. The table is a bit too high to rest his feet causing him to recline too much to type. He hadn’t tested that out when he bought it. He should have. But, it doesn’t matter now. Even though the words aren’t there he’s going to push forward anyway. He looks outside for inspiration.

It is the end of winter but not quite spring yet. It wants to rain. The sky is drab. He’s dressed for the weather in old jeans and big, bulky socks. The standard black t-shirt under a smart, black/grey ribbed sweeter. His black glasses perched a bit crooked on his nose. The hair is unkempt (maybe disheveled is a better word). It is coifed that way on purpose because he’s been told it is sexy and he believes it. Not that there is anybody around to see his freaky hair anyway. He has an evening to himself. He enjoys being alone in this way.

He types. He types anything because he needs to hear the sound of the keyboard. Progress. The clicks represent progress.

Her eyes gaze out along the long line of trees. A small wisp of smoke floats out above the tall branches from a fire pit down near her village. She sits on a jutting grey outcropping of rock and isn’t afraid of the steep drop below. She swings her legs playfully with a bit of a grip to the edge of the rock. Her clothes are loose and thick, but her mood is light and upbeat. In the distance there is the sound of dogs barking playfully. And she counts large birds flying together pointed toward some destination in a graceful ‘V’.

“Hold it. Loose and scratchy?” she turns to say. “Oh, come on. You may have put me in the dark ages, but don’t make me wear ‘loose and scratchy’. “

I typed thick, not scratch. And you practically wore burlap then, right? I’ll have to research those types of details later. I need to get the basic story and plot down first. Seriously, no more interruptions like this one. Screenplays are hard enough.

“Well. This just isn’t starting out well. I think you need to make me or you or whomever I am swordfight or something.”

You’re a girl. I’m a man. You are not me. You are Karin. Eventually you become a queen.

“Yeah, right! You need to start this script out with action. You even said, and I quote, ‘This is a female queen in the mold of Braveheart’. I might need some blue face paint.”

Karin looks over her left shoulder to see her attacker approach with two, thick branches trimmed of twigs and ready for battle. She smiles. She thinks she can beat her friend this time. Her bare feet slap against the rock as she jolts up.

“What, no boots or shoes of some sort?”

I like your feet. Do you think they’d wear toe rings back in 12th Century? I need to look that up.

“Oh, give me a break. I’ll go barefoot, but don’t you think it would be sexier if was wearing something other than burlap. I think some light, wispy thing that could show brief glimpses of the swell of my breasts would garner my movie a better response. Plus, it would distract my future love interest here.”

Karin catches the smooth branch playfully thrown her way. She flips it around and points it at her friend who sneers and wipes his cheek with his wrist. Her stance shows a practiced swordsman. Her smile reveals a game she loves to play.

She stops. “You know, you aren’t writing this in the correct format. Do you need to get some better software for this endeavor? And by the way, who do you have playing me? Please tell me I’m not going to be played by your Jennifer Love Hewitt fascination.”

You don’t have that choice.

“I’ll quit. I’ll just hand my stupid phallic-sword metaphor back to my buddy here, walk back home and leave you here with no hero-girl. You, your ADD, and your fragmented sentences will be stuck.”

I now understand what Charlie Brown meant by ‘Good Grief’. I should make you run from a bunch of rabid dogs or something.

“You don’t scare me…. Okay. Okay… okay! I’m sorry. You’re cute with that tousled hair.”

Tousled. That’s the word.

“Good. Want to start again? Put me in something sexy though, okay!?”

The battery light in the upper right corner flashes red. The laptop needs to be plugged back into the wall. Hour and a half. Poof! He sighs deeply.

Not tonight. He checks his watch and surmises he is nearing another beer.

“Wait…! Maybe I should be skinny dipping in the creek over th…. ”

He closes the lid on the laptop with a click. He slides it off his lap and hides it with one of the other pillows. With the remote he flips on the big screen to discover it was last on ESPN2. That was over a week ago.

Oooh! Basketball! Yippee!

Nice fire, though.

Esprit de Corps

The self is a cloister of remembered sounds. - Wallace Stevens, poet

I’ve been looking in a rear view mirror at many of the friends and groups I’ve associated with in this life’s path (thanks in a huge way to that giant time suck called FaceBook). Most of those valued relationships have developed from the side effect of doing something slightly or hugely of common interest. We all have friends still in contact from that one summer working together at a gig we grunted out for pocket change. There is that huge network of college friends joined together during a few years of figuring out an overwhelming degree of independence. There are important colleagues who get the passion behind that one major project we worked around the clock to win for the firm. And ... (your circle/cause here).

Arguably, it is the people that are important. They hold more value than the pocket change handed over for the late summer, after work beers by the lake. The college survival network itself is more essential, in some ways, than the education received at the end of that era. And those colleagues that get the work bond are vital. It is the people that are the imperative part, right?

Most of the time, I don’t think we see the obvious while working in the moment. I remember thinking, sitting in an umpteenth Executive meeting at the college radio station, that the meeting itself was worthless. More was accomplished before and after when we chatted directly with the individuals or groups than listening to the soapbox diatribes (myself included) with a lengthy, personal agenda. I wasn’t there for the meeting. I was there to talk directly to people with a shared interest. Why not skip the meeting and just all have a beverage and talk about our mutual passion, the radio station ... The Community.

Quite honestly, more college radio station issues were developed/thought out/accomplished sitting with the group at Scott’s pad just off campus than with all 18 “Executives” in a big classroom. Though I’m sure the beer helped, no doubt. It was the esprit de corps that threw a bunch of us misfits into that big pool and created the lasting memories, no?

Work today is no different. The most important stuff happens in the hallways and at the copy machines over coffee than during a conference call. It is the one-on-one, the side-by-side, that works magic, not the project itself or the PowerPoint presentation.

I watched and listened to my daughter play cello with her school orchestra in a State-wide competition last weekend. They played beautifully and it was the best I’d heard them perform it. Their goal was reached and they got the high marks they hoped to receive. Yet, when talking with her about the whole experience, she talked more about her friends, the bus trip fun, and the butterflies they all shared while on the stage. They all talked about next year as if they were ready to practice again for it tomorrow. It was refreshing, effusive, and captivating. I get that.

I get the orchestra/theater group experience. I get the chess club, the GATE class, and the swim team. I understand the camaraderie associated with a group joined by a common cause.

So, no Mr. Hayes, it was never about broadcasting my voice on the radio or stroking my ego. It was always about sharing a passion and making a difference together, which thankfully included you. What I remember from those college days at KCPR has a hell of a lot more to do with the group than it ever did about musical tastes or talents. We all had our opinions, but I learned by listening to others and in turn trying some new things on my own, and sharing it together in return (‘cause in reality, I think we were the only ones truly listening).

It isn't very Ayn Randian of me to write, but, say what you want about the individual, I found a certain strength in our group.

Choices

This is not earth shattering. It is not even close to important. I’m not sure it even warrants a blog post. But, I have been pondering quite a few things over the last few months amid all the boxes and packing and moving and unpacking and making decisions about where to put my stuff.

A lot about divorce is in re-inventing oneself. Well, maybe not re-inventing to the scale of “I am now James Bond”. No, it is more like rediscovering the important pieces of what makes me tick, both the good and the bad.

Sometimes they are simply trivial ticks. For instance, I’ve decided I really miss button-fly jeans. I only own zipper jeans right now and I think that is sad. I liked button-fly jeans once upon a time. But are they in style? I don’t think I know that answer. Will I fit in or stand out? Do I care?

I know what to wear to certain restaurants. I have decent clothes for my upcoming conference in SFO. I have suits that aren’t too far outdated... yet. And I also know there are a lot of people that are sure to tell me the answers and that will give great advice. These things all will help me blend in.

But maybe, just maybe, I want to stand out from the crowd now. Here’s the tricky part (yes, the Big, Fig Newton)…. Look at me! I’m either a freak or a fool. Or maybe I’m just cool. Those white loafers with the metal thingy would sure grab some attention. These things will get me noticed.

Clothing is not really the issue, just a textile illustration of a minor yet conscious dilemma. I know I have a choice to make with literally everything I do, from posting on this blog to buying a certain brand of beer. Is the decision to fit it or stand out?

The point is: I now have more choices than I really ever had before. I get to choose.

I want button-fly jeans.

Divorce is weird!