The Trees Have Spoken

"Mister!", he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
"I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues,
And I'm asking you, sir, at the top of my lungs" --
He was very upset as he shouted and puffed --
"What's that THING you've made out of my Truffula tuft?"
– The Lorax, Dr. Seuss (1971)

Long gone are the days where the newspaper was picked up from the bottom of the driveway, de-dripped from the sprinkler overflow, and tucked under an arm to be dried out and leisurely perused during the hour-long work break for lunch. The romance of the paper is virtually gone. It now arrives on demand with a smart phone and free wi-fi.

Newspaper racks slowly disappear much like the demise of the payphone booth. And the newspaper industry is rather worried, according to a friend in the industry. It is assumed the same goes for the book publishers and the countless magazines strewn in racks in the grocery store. Rumor has it they might seek an Obama bailout.

And yet, the old Once-ler knows ...

The news hasn’t gone away. Authors still write. Fashion, cooking, cars, and gossip thrive as always. The old Once-ler knows the ideas and images and writing still prevail. They may, in fact, routinely crank ‘em out today at record levels. The Lorax would be the first one to exclaim, “And, it is about time!”, as it is the cost of paper and their delivery that makes the economics of the newspaper/book/magazine difficult.

It is the trees that handcuff the publishing industries to the past. It is the paper that keeps them old world. Take away the paper from the mix and one is left with a less expensive way to deliver the same content. It is quicker and more accessible, and requires the producers to work with more urgency. That isn’t a bad thing.

There is more to worry about than the life expectancy of a paper product. The old guard resists change. That is obvious. The new world embraces it. That is less obvious.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”
– The Lorax, Dr. Seuss (1971)

The good Dr. was wrong to certain degree. The majority does indeed care. A lot. Though they may not really know it. Most endorse change. They do care. A tree told me.

Now, where is that Barbaloot suit? There exists an urgency to find a creative Halloween costume.

White Dog Down ( ? - 2010)

Ode to the Grape

Deep within a sense of place,
Our region, terrior, A.V.A.,
A round, near perfect, juicy embrace,
Of an orb to cause a soiree.

Tenderly squished by bladder press,
Or punched by paddle and pole,
These winemakers, nay, artists profess,
Labors of love. They shall extol.

Extensions of a miracle, squeezed.
Acidic. Earth. Alive.
From these spheres, the Gods appeased,
A complex nose to revive.

Autumn’s toil turns fiery kiss,
With a swish, a sniff, and a taste.
Elements in the glass reminisce,
Of past years. We are graced.

The spirit thirsts for answers, facts,
Among a throng of friends.
With moments in time, a place to relax,
This earthly splendor transcends.

So with glass in hand ponder this,
The brilliance from the vine.
Offer up a smile, a kiss,
A toast. Enjoy this wine.

Only 7%

"44% of eighth-graders in Singapore scored at the most advanced level in math, as did 38% in Taiwan. Only 7% of U.S. students scored that well." - Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study

I don’t care what the debate is with budgets at our local, state, and national level. Pulling money from education, classrooms, teachers, and students is NOT an option.

Planning to Sail

I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor. - Oliver Wendel Holmes

Sailing is a passion garnered from years of muscling the mainsheet against the force of the wind on the sail while countering the impact of the waves with the push and pull of a rudder in a fourteen foot sailboat. That activity forged a minimal, yet ever present childhood ambition to become a pirate. Combine that slight daydream with a rather low level fear of moderate heights with a distinct aversion to scrubbing floor boards and my place on a pirate ship is easily the crow’s nest. (Add a monkey or a parrot and one can complete the picture.)

First, the 360 view must be incredible. Watching the horizon line may sound boring to some, but it must be better than the one-thousandth viewing of a sea of car license plates in front of me at either end of the day. Second, rum could be fun up there in the crow’s nest, me thinks.

But third and more to the point, I’m a planner. In a world of vast unpredictability and the ever present danger of that which spawns mutiny, I find tremendous comfort in seeing what lies ahead. I like knowing what way we’re going.

Every six months, the blank monthly calendars are printed and a plan is laid out: the weeks the kids are under roof are in green highlighter, what events and concerts would be fun are in bright red, and the times that are most advantages to take precious vacation time are carefully lined out in yellow.

At times, this feels overly planned out. All the spontaneity life offers is sucked out of life to be listed as a monotonous to-do list. But that outlook is resisted at every turn.

No, these actions with a calendar are just pre-thought out opportunities. Preparing for the struggles against the daily forces, the wind and the waves, the pull and the thump, no, they are just part of it. Those happen and are organic to the plan. Sailing through it all is impossible without some preparation. And, I like watching the horizon line.

About a Verb and a Slogan

You don’t understand how men work. We don’t give each other gifts. We pretty much ignore each other ’til somebody scores a touchdown. - Red Forman, That '70s Show

Rarely are purely things impressionable. Cars, computers, phones, clothes, jewelry, cigars, wine ... Those are nouns. Nouns have little impact in the real world.

Oh, preferences on things are fine and warranted. But, I’ll take the verb any day.

Phone is a noun. Texting and posting is a verb.
Wine is a noun. Tasting is a verb.
Paint and canvas are nouns. Painting is a verb.
Thai Food is a noun. Cooking is involved and requires action (a verb). Eating is a verb. Sharing is an even better one.
The yard and a garden are nouns. Mowing and planting and growing are verbs.

This culture has it backwards. We should care more about actions, happenings, interaction, and change. Seek experiences and events, not the noun itself.

Take a car, for example. Look at a 1965 Silver Cloud Rolls Royce. It is a beautiful car, no doubt. But it holds little value as a noun. It sits in a garage. It is a lump of metal worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. But, throw in a verb (the action) and DRIVE it. Road-trip it with your mom and dad from Palm Springs to the mid-west, and that evokes stories and memories.

Diamonds. They are expensive pieces of carbon. They are worth a monetary value based on a set criteria (the four C’s). Yet, shopping for them, seeking out the perfect gem that speaks to you is an adventure. Finding the diamond holder (the ring) and feeling the adrenaline rush before “Yes”, that is the experience.

MasterCard has it right. Sort of. There are indeed some things money can’t buy. For everything else, well, you know. The concept here is that people don’t always buy stuff for the stuff itself but more often than not get it for the immaterial meanings that attach itself to or are expressed by the stuff.

Verbs, indeed, are priceless.

Touchdown!

Ouch! ... Thank you, Sir. May I Have Another.

They are the same problems only bigger. So, we’re told we must work harder. Now hard work is good work. But continuously banging a head against a wall is just stupid.

School Districts are required to meet budget. So, the Board lays off teachers, grow class sizes, and ask the remaining teachers to work harder.

The database at work is still in disarray after years and years of (un)coordinated attempts. Yet, people work harder to force in more data. Same ‘ol, same ‘ol.

The fastest route to work for the morning commute is clogged due to construction in town. The double lanes have been reduced down to one, long, slow moving line. Deal with it!

Lecturing teenage kids about cleaning up after they have finished with some project or snack has little effect. So, lecturing harder is the result. Apparently, teenagers are hard of hearing.

A bottle of wine recently purchased was corked, both of them. Is there a risk in buying another bottle of the same wine from the winery again?

Conversations with an individual are continuously hostile, but necessary. It is the same issues, same results every time.

Stop! This is stupid. Simply trying harder using the same old methods doesn’t solve the problem when the results stay the same. If banging a head against the wall is the routine, banging harder isn’t the answer. Try something different.

School Districts could do with some creative budgeting in these hard times. Old, stale, budgeting tricks of cutting dollars where it hurts the kids most is wrong. Handicapping teachers is counterproductive and it is making the quality of the kid’s education worse. The classroom environment needs more, not less. Yet, options such as parcel taxes and furloughs remain taboo subjects and disregarded. As a parent, I’d gladly front another $20 on a parcel tax and I’d think the communities would be wise enough to understand a quality K-12 education is a huge community asset.

We’ve been haphazardly filing data in a database system for years. It isn’t all that reliable. But, it isn’t a broken database program. It is the process for inputting the data that needs changing. The change is in HOW the data is implemented..

After 9 years at the same job, the car practically drives itself to and from work on its own. If there was ever an autopilot for an automobile, this commute would be a prime example. However, there ARE other routes around the new construction with only a minute or two of difference. And, 15 minutes earlier the traffic is amazingly light.

The kids hear “Blah blah blah, Ginger. Blah blah blah, Ginger”. The lecture has lost its luster. So, the tact is changing (while remaining calmer and preserving some sanity at the same time).

The cork is losing its romance as “corked” bottles (those that smell like a wet basement or socks after a morning workout) seem to be more prevalent these days. The purchasing power is currently aligning with that of the screwcap and synthetic corks. There ARE other choices than opening a stinky bottle of wine.

The point is: doing the wrong thing harder is not the answer. Go ahead if you desire. Bang your head against the wall with greater force. But, I say that is wrong option. Think outside the box. Be creative. Try something different. Because what’s happening right now is not working and it hurts.