GreenGranny

GreenGranny's "What Were They Thinking" Observations

Last year I noted  how two major "big box" discount stores were built side by side in my town,  with parking lots connected to each other by a street.  Cars can go from one store to the other without exiting onto the busy thoroughfare.  Very thoughtful.   However, if you are on foot or on a bicycle, you are out of luck.  The street is too narrow for both cars and bikes, and there is no sidewalk at all.  Walk or ride through the grass. 

The accommodation of pedestrians arriving from bus stops and bicyclists arriving from  adjacent  low traffic volume streets are little better.

What were they thinking?

Perhaps "they" simply didn't think about people who can't carry away a  lot of merchandise.   They are poor, aren't they--little purchasing power?  Well, maybe once upon a time that was so.   But what about approval of the plan by a city that prides itself on being bicycle friendly and increasingly "green"?

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Today I rode my bike to the mall and left it locked in the conveniently located bike rack that's been there for decades.   After shopping a little while, I decided to walk through and out the other side of the mall to shop at the drug store built in front.  Now, a good bit of the parking lot was redesigned and repaved when the drug store was built a couple of years ago.   And they chose to put the bicycle rack for their store about as far from the entrance as you can get.   That's why I decided to walk there from the mall.

Walking from the mall main entrance across the traffic way to the drug store parking area, I notice that there is no sidewalk  nor painted walkway to guide me on what should be an important pedestrian route.    To get out of the busy street, I hop onto a small grassy island where a path is already being worn by previous pedestrians trying to get from the mall to the drug store right next to it, just as I am doing.  Next  I have to cross through the main parking entrance for the drug store and across the drive-up window lane before making it to a sidewalk alongside the building.

What were they thinking?

Wouldn't ALL the stakeholders--Mall, Drug Store, and City, desire a bit of connectivity there?

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A couple of years ago, a new supermarket went up in a new subdivision to the west of mine, making it the closest grocery to my house.  They have a lovely store but never bothered with a bike rack at all.  This week two grandchildren bicycled over from their house to mine  shortly before lunch, and suddenly we needed more food.  They had never been to that store by bicycle before, so we three rode together.  We chained all three bikes together for greater security, not having a fixture to use.   It did cut down on sidewalk space, but where were we to place the bikes instead?

What were they thinking?

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I had an errand at the local high school's main office.  I arrived on bicycle and discovered the bike racks were clear over at the end of the sprawling building.  Auto parking for staff and students alike was adjacent to the main entrances, however.   The city bus has a line that runs to the high school, but there is no bench or shelter for shade and rain protection, and it is a long way across the parking lot to the school building itself. 

What were they thinking?

I don't blame students for preferring to drive a car to this school, given our harsh climate.  But in far worse climates one can find accommodation for pedestrian and bicycle travel.

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One hot summer day I came out of the drug store to my bicycle, parked at the inconvenient bike rack, and lo, there was a package in my bicycle basket.   I gingerly peeked into the bag and discovered two bars of cheap soap.  The receipt was still in the bag.  Was this some sort of joke or just a good deed?  I gave the soap to the community food pantry.  

What were they thinking?

The soap giver might like to know that in addition to being good for the environment and great fun for me,  my biking--along with avoidance of salty food--has blessed me with a blood pressure of 112 over 70.  And I'm 66 years old.  I wonder what their blood pressure is, and if  it's worth not needing as much soap as they think I need.

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When it comes to designing shopping areas, schools, and other public buildings, all I can say is, I hope those charged with designing the infrastructure of America start doing some thinking.  Design seemed consistently better a few decades ago.   Who is signing off on these cookie-cutter buildings that come off the corporate drawing board and get plopped exactly as-is into each community?

A lot of construction money has been spent in recent years on flawed plans, and these days there is just no excuse for it.  The blunders literally have been cast in stone.

Small home designers vs. what older people really want.

I try to avoid using my blog for venting, but after reading yet another article on small energy efficient home designs and living small, I've got to give these designers a few things to think about.

Let me say to them and their ilk, I applaud your effort.  More ideas, more creativity, more experimentation in simple living is a good thing.    The development of new forms of energy efficient homes and modular living quarters can't progress quickly enough.  But my message to them is this:  Before you get carried away with ladders to loft bedrooms,  mattresses on the floor, all-white no-clutter decorating schemes, and not one comfortable chair in sight, let me tell you I'm giving instructions to my kids never to place me in such a home when I'm in my dotage. 

One look at such a place would inform them of all the tasks THEY would need to perform on a daily basis to keep me there.   Changing the bed linens aside, most of these new designs are about as appealing to an older person as a prison cell. 

Since this is my opening salvo for more articles to come, I'm only going to provide a few examples of what does or doesn't make sense when designing living spaces for seniors--or anyone for that matter.  In this regard, recreational vehicle manufacturers and retirement homes have come a lot closer to getting it right, when it comes to making a small home or apartment functional, comfortable and a pleasure to live in.   The challenge is to add in the very features the designers are working on--energy efficiency and a smaller ecological footprint for the dwelling.  Affordability will come later I suppose.

In working the other way around, energy features first, the liveability of the place becomes an after thought.  That's ok for right now, but I hope to see both ends meet in the middle soon.

Revelation: Older people want to enjoy life.  They want homes that allow them to continue to do their favorite things without being dependent upon others.  That could range from quilting to woodworking to gardening to hosting family dinner parties with grandkids underfoot, to cycling or sightseeing or dining out.  They want to preserve their lifestyle, not make a huge change in it.

If they are home-based  hobbiests or crafters, they will want a smaller home that can accommodate these activities.  If they are used to going elsewhere for recreation and social life, a smaller dwelling may be just the thing--but access to the community remains a challenge.

Older people want to be comfortable, and that may mean a favorite old chair or handy bed for stretching out one's achy back in the middle of the day.  They often need to stay warmer than younger folks.   They want their favorite objects with them,  like family photos or their grandmother's China teacups or the old cabinet their uncle built and gave them for a wedding gift.  Continuity of past and present  matters.  Unless an older person has already chosen a glass and steel designer home with modern furnishings as their ideal, don't expect them to find much appeal in it.     

Most activities that I find fun are messy, and since most of them are multi-day or even multi-week projects, the mess is going to remain out or only be partially contained at the end of the day.  Such uses of a home seem foreign to designers.  They often provide a skeletal version of a home office, and yes I do need that, but it is only one of several functions that need space.  That pedestal table with a lone laptop atop it won't  suit me for a working office, let alone for sewing or crafting.   It is just a way of "staging" the home, you may say.  I prefer to see how real life plays out,  inside one.

Spaces in small homes have to be able to multi-task, but a Murphy bed seems to be the only idea I've spotted in new designs, and that's at the bottom of my list of tradeoffs.  Clever ways to use space are still in short supply, outside of the RV industry.  

Now consider what I've observed in actual model green homes and home designs:

1.  It seems obligatory to put in a wheel-chair accessible bathroom and a "wet room" type of shower.  However, there are no grab bars or other conveniences that would make a bathroom work for the infirm elderly who handle bathroom functions on their own--as most older persons would do.  How do they keep the soap in reach and the towel dry until needed?   I don't want to use a bathroom that is cold, damp,  and slippery from a recent shower--or have to dry it all off before using the room for its other purposes.   In our 23-foot travel trailer, one of us can shower while the other one uses the other facilities.  

2.  Aside from the bathroom, nothing else in the designed homes I've seen is wheel-chair accessible.  In fact,  little else is accessible at all to anyone not tall and physically fit--whose body works like a college student's.  I'm not saying the entire dwelling should be wheel-chair accessible.  Rather, there should be accommodation first for the way people will spend the most years living there, and design should allow for inexpensive conversions as they become necessary.   Part wheel-chair accessible and the rest not is impractical for all ages and capabilities.

3.  Storage walls are very popular with some interior designers.  These consist of a wall of cabinets, all flush from floor to ceiling with no distinguishing features. When my husband and I moved from one house to another three years ago, it took months for the different storage arrangements to become ingrained and automatic.  Imagine the learning curve if everything were behind a wall of identical cupboard doors?  Besides, I don't want to look at a blank wall.  

Not that going entirely with dust-catching open shelves or glass doors are preferable.  It's just that a couple of open shelves, a few doors in a contrasting style or pattern or color, a spot to  hang a picture or display a plant, or an area of counter top as a staging area on which to set the objects being removed or replaced into storage would come in handy and provide visual clues to remembering what was where.   In my experience living in small spaces, storage walls are simply a poor option for storage, and worse yet for older people.

In our 23 foot travel trailer, there are small cupboards and nooks  handy to every activity.  Extra bedding is stored under the mattress, night wear and sweatshirts above the bed (but still in easy reach), items needed while in bed stored bedside, office supplies by the table, grooming gear in open mesh baskets attached to the bathroom wall or in the medicine chest or under the sink.  All logical, simple arrangements that designers shun but everyone needs.   Even  those of us who simplify our lives still end up with more than a toothbrush to store in or near the bathroom.

4.  Many of the new "green" homes being designed in competitions manage to heat space and water from renewable energy sources. Often a clothes washer is included in the energy consumption calculations of the home, but I've never seen a dryer.  No problem with that, but one must then design for another way to deal with wet clothing.  It amuses me that designers prefer to ignore the issue rather than design solutions for it. 

Outdoor clothes hanging doesn't always work.  Before the days of clothes dryers, people used porches, basements, and attics to hang clothing and linens to dry during inclement weather.  They put drying racks up in kitchens and bathrooms for small items.  And they thought twice before tossing a barely soiled item into the laundry hamper.  Water for laundry did not come from wells but from rainwater collected in cisterns. 

It doesn't seem genuine to me to design for functional living in a small efficient space unless one includes all the functions of a household.

Designers repeat the mantra "form follows function" when in fact they are the group most likely to ignore it.  Ordinary people have been creating habitats to fit their functional needs for millenia.   

Yet I believe professional designers do matter, if only to present to us an ideal we might like to achieve however impractical.  Translation into real life is left to others to figure out.   Many of us enjoy the fantasy of relaxing in a living room devoid of all save a lovely view and an interesting play of sunlight and shadow on walls and floors.  Something as mundane as a place to store the dog's food and water bowl, or a place by the entry for wet shoes or muddy boots is not what we look for when dreaming of a new home.  That is why we continue to look at all the latest plans that feed our fancy more than our needs.   

Let's get a little more harmony going between aesthetics and functional efficiencies, designing for energy and resource-efficient function of the interior spaces we need for enjoyment as well as for comfort and security.  And above all, if we seniors are a group targeted for placement in granny flats and pre-fabricated bedrooms set in a corner of our kids' backyard, then please heed my advice.  Ask us first.   

The Garage Sale

I was sitting on the front stoop of the house with five little granddaughters watching people come and go from our family garage sale.  They weren't allowed around back, where the open garage and driveway were filled with their outgrown clothes and toys on display to shoppers, along with other items no longer needed.  Mom and Dad had decided what toys weren't being used and needed to go, and they didn't want any of the kids putting up a fuss.   Space had to be made in their small home for the things growing children need.

Kept away from the real action, we could only wonder what was happening  just out of our sight.  Still, my flock and I had an interesting vantage point watching both  jalopies and shiny late model cars park and disgorge their occupants headed for our sale.    One young couple arrived on a single bicycle with the girl sitting on the handlebars! 

To stay busy, my grandchildren were selling cookies they had baked, from a folding table at the foot of the front stairs.   They caught sight of a man walking away from the house with one of their old stuffed toys he had bought for his own child.  "Oh look, he bought your stuffed doll!" one girl exclaimed to another.  Overhearing this, the man held the toy up and made it wave goodbye to them.  A peal of laughter erupted from the girls as they waved back. 

Letting go isn't as hard for them as it is for me, I thought. 

When I was a child growing up in a single family home deep within a major metropolitan area,  no one in my neighborhood tried to sell used things from their homes--outgrown clothing and baby furniture went up on the attic to be given to family members when the need arose, even many years later.   A family's attic storehouse of used items was precious, because of the expense of buying new in those days before manufacturing moved overseas. 

In my current hometown, a small city, garage sales sprout up all over town on Fridays and Saturdays.  Sometimes it seems like everyone not holding their own sale is out shopping at them.  For some people it's a necessity and for others, a pastime.  For our family, it is a way of giving back to the community some of the charity that has been shown to us.  We price items far below what local thrift shops would charge, and towards the end of the sale, we take whatever people are able to offer.

I remember one sale in which almost everything had been sold, and we were packing up what remained to donate to the local thrift store.  A young couple drove up and got out of their car.  They were upset that the sale was essentially over.  "We tried to get here sooner," they apologized.   I glanced at the stuff in the back seat of their vehicle, purchased at earlier garage sales that morning, no doubt.  My evaluation:  They are new university students from an Asian nation, and they really want to get their nest feathered from garage sale finds.  

"Well, I have one picture there on the lawn that hasn't been sold yet," I said.  I thought of how much we wanted someone to carry the thing away and added,  "I can sell it to you for 25 cents."   They immediately brightened up.  Apparently the old hand-painted graphic, nicely framed, was to their taste.  They produced the quarter, loaded it into their car, and drove off with big smiles.  We were smiling too.  

Another time a family showed up just as we were closing up a sale, saying their little girl "wanted to go to a garage sale."  My daughter said,  "Go ahead and look, there are some great finds on toys still left."   When the girl admired a toy, my daughter just gave it to her.  The parents (grandparents ?) didn't offer to pay, but gladly accepted the gift, and I rather think they were flat broke. 

But nothing makes us feel as good as when disabled people come to our sale, usually with the help of relatives, and find  things they really like.   My daughter was able to assist one girl in a motorized wheel chair to find a pretty outfit in her size, from the granddaughters' outgrown clothes.   At 25 cents per garment, a lot of children got nice school outfits that day.    

Our family garage sales are less frequent now that the grandchildren are older.  At the big sale we held this summer, they were old enough to help set up the goods and young enough to delight in selling lemonade on a hot day.   My thoughts drfted back to those fond memories on the front steps a few  years ago, when they still needed Grandma to sit with them.  

We Americans have too much stuff, to be sure, but garage sales help insure that it gets reused, re-purposed, and remains out of the waste stream a while longer.

It takes a lot of hard work to organize for a home sale and have everything clean, neat, and ready for others to use.   For the time being, it is one strategy to compensate for our over-consumption of material goods while being a great way to develop a spirit of sharing in the community.

Green Senior / Homeless

Today I met my first homeless Green Senior.

I was on a bicycle outing when I stopped at the store that sells a cup of delicious ice cream for $1.19.  It's an affordable treat I can't pass up on a warm afternoon, running errands on my bike at this shopping center.

Outside the store I noticed an older homeless man seated on the bench with his bicycle rig filling much of the sidewalk.  He had at least two bicycle trailers attached, one a child-carrier style that held enough heavy blankets to keep him warm at night.  I couldn't make out the utility of the other junk he carried, but it looked heavy. 

I went in the store to get my ice cream, thinking perhaps I should buy him one too.  Good thing I didn't.  I was soon to learn he ate nothing that came from animals.

Back outside, I seated myself on a concrete slab next to my own bicycle, somewhat hidden from his view by his loaded bike trailers.   I was curious about this man, but I did not have the courage to speak.  Then a young woman walked by, also eating ice cream, and spoke to him, and they chatted for a while.  She obviously didn't feel the least bit intimidated.  I didn't hear the conversation, but it sounded normal enough.  I decided not to be such a wimp.

"That's a big rig you've got there" I said to him, nodding towards the bike trailers.

He got up and came over to where we could see each other.

"Did you hear what I was telling the young lady? That ice cream isn't good for you."

And he went into an exposition of why eating anything that came from animals was wrong, saying god had directed otherwise.  Between his gravelly voice and the wind in my hearing aides, I didn't make out too much of it.  But I was awfully glad I had not offered him a cup of ice cream.

After he had  spoken at length he paused. 

"Would you mind telling me how old you are?" I ventured.

"I'm 66 and I've been outside for 37 years"  he replied.  "I like being free, and well, I don't get along with other people that well."

I was already aware that he was not making much sense and had some type of mental impairment, but those two numbers seemed plausible.  He had a white beard and weathered face, but yes, he could be 66.  That was what I'd be on my next birthday. 

Then he went on to tell me about an accident in which he had fallen backward on pavement hitting his head.  He pointed to the back of his head where the injury was.  I suspected this fall might have occurred about 37 years ago, but that was only a guess.

I remembered a professional meeting I attended many years ago, where a group of us in highway safety learned what head injuries could do to people in car crashes.  It was distressing to say the least.  Frontal lobe injuries can occur from a jolt to brain tissue (delicate as jell-o).  The person seems to be the same but can no longer make a plan and execute it, among other things.  They stop being able to run their life except on an elementary level.  They just can't get it together anymore.

I'd encountered people with this type of brain injury twice before in my life, adults who needed a guardian angel.  If the injury is not recognized, not connected to their disability, they appear to be failures at life.  Even if the cause of their behavior is understood, it is an untreatable, permanent brain injury.  Not much can be done to help or protect them if they do not wish to be helped or protected.  However, our society doesn't make many options available for such people and their heartbroken families.

"Does a person of your beliefs ever see a doctor?"  I asked.

He muttered something about having had cancer.  I could see that under his shirt, his ample belly was asymmetrical.  I don't think that bodes well for the state of his health.

"Well tell me how you manage to pedal this heavy load?"  I asked, hoping to come at it from another angle.

"Oh, I don't!  The chain (on the bicycle) is broken."

I surmised he pushes the load around the shopping center, moving from one bench to another, most of the day.  He must find a place to sleep near here as well.  And how does he obtain his vegetarian diet?

He quickly returned to his earlier theme of religious salvation through vegetarianism, from which he rarely digressed.  Nor was there a chance to get a word in edge-wise.  I could imagine a religious upbringing in which he learned this, but now it is all confused in his head.   I could imagine a loving family grieving because they could not help him after the injury, and had to let him go...to find his own peace.

Yet, he has a purpose in life and a mission.  For him, life is just fine if only he can help other people understand what  they must do...and the consequences if they do not do it.

I left him thinking what, if anything, could or should be done now for this man.  I concluded that allowing him his freedom had been, and still was, the right thing to do.  He was actually in a pretty good place for being homeless.  He deserved to continue his freedom and, some day, to meet death on his own terms.

Homeless people are all living "green" whether they know it or not. 

Today I met my first homeless Green Senior.  May he live out his days in peace.

Greengranny's Year In Review: 2008

I will remember 2008 as the year of the unexpected and unpredictable.  It was the year that kept releasing surprises, doling out miseries at random.   For the most part, I and my family were merely spectators to events impacting others.  But we had to wonder how well we would get along as time went on.

Extreme spring flooding in my own state brought economic catastrophe and homelessness to many thousands of families.  Just when people began to make progress dealing with one crisis, some other distressing event would make matters worse.  It was the year that kept forcing me to think what I should be doing to help get my family through this situation and be better prepared for more to come.    But before one can assess, plan, and act, the problem changes, and it keeps changing.     

This is a taste of what it is like to live in times when a society is collapsing from its own weight, as when the consumption level degrades the environment sufficiently.    I'd read about this in history books and always wondered what it might be like to live in conditions like that.  Many places on earth have ruins of cities that once flourished until the local environment changed for the worse.  I don't think the earth as a whole is at that point yet, but 2008 instructs us with a mild demonstration of the process. 

This year, it was society's economic inventions and institutions that were collapsing.  We haven't even gotten to the part where Mother Nature dishes it out and things get really ugly, although we've seen some previews in recent years.  As for the Iowa floods, if attention had been paid to how development and farming had changed flood plains and the ability of the land to retain water, the outcome could have been far different.  Global warming predicts larger rainfall events in our area, but that possibility did not need to be invoked to explain what happened.

2008 was a year in which much of my lifestyle was vindicated.  We were not in debt.  We were not living beyond our means.  Our long term habits were a key factor in getting through 2008 rather well.    In addition, we had  developed coping mechanisms by going through some family challenges the last few years.   While numerous others in society were overreaching into the "good life," we had been forced in the other direction and developed resilience without realizing it.   I've always thought, woe to those who have too much good luck, for when trouble comes they get are the least prepared, and get wiped out. 

Lest I convey any sense of pride about getting through 2008, let me assure you of just the opposite.  I am very aware of how other circumstances in life could have made us more vulnerable this year, how uncertain the future remains, and how little control over life we actually have.   The lesson is that what we do and how we live BEFORE the crisis is what matters most. 

The uniquely disturbing experience of 2008 was that many things in the larger world were going terribly wrong, and that there was no place to hide, no mitigating actions to take, just endure and come what may.   Being born at the height of the Second World War, the post war euphoria was in place by the time I was old enough to notice the world around me.   For all that happened in the world since then, I always managed to be in one of the protected harbors.   Thus, 2008 felt like a new experience to me, and likely to many in the younger generations who live in the developed nations.   Yet it was not unexpected,  because I know that bubbles eventually burst and that the economic situation people had created was not sustainable. 

Imagine if we don't stabilize the climate in time, if land and ocean ecosystems crash for good from human-caused pollutants and activities, if the ruins that will be created are not only of a cluster of cities but of the entire earth.   There will be no place to hide, no mitigating actions possible, just endure and come what may.   And it will be because "bubbles," even on the scale of earth's human civilization, eventually burst.

Just as controlling debt and living below one's means equipped us for the economic challenges of 2008, we need to do the equivalent in the environmental sense.   Adopting a lifestyle in which we sustain ourselves with fewer resources and complexities is the best investment we can make in our future, the best insurance we can buy for the years to come.     The real lesson of 2008 is not  economic.   Rather, it serves to demonstrate common rules of nature that we ignore at our peril.

I intend to utilize some of the technological innovations that will come along to assist us reduce overall consumption, but I do not believe science and technology will allow us to escape with our habits of consumption intact.  The unintended consequences of science and technology are behind global warming and most other threats to the environment.  

The resilience we need to survive comes from what we are able to get along without, as well as from having a variety of ways to obtain the essentials.  That comes from a culture of resourcefulness, from the creative problem solving of each person in their daily lives.   Self-sufficiency is still valued in our collective psyche even if not much practiced.  

Resilience is not enhanced by using machines we don't understand and could never build or repair ourselves (or in our communities, or even in our own nation).  And to the extent our way of life depends on large numbers of people using such machines to obtain necessities of life, we reduce resilience and increase vulnerability. 

I am as guilty as everyone else when it comes to dependence on electronic devices, on the Internet.  It is human nature to take the path of least resistance without considering "what ifs" about the future.  Our resilience, or lack thereof, will eventually be tested, and better for us if the tests come in frequent small increments.  I fear we are already far beyond that possibility.

2008 has shown us how important the habits and practices of past years can be in coping with change.   With that in mind, I have much progress to make in the environmental realm before I am prepared to weather the storm.  In a sense, I never will weather what lies ahead, but I can help future generations do so. 

May 2009 be the year when we all make strides towards this goal, for the sake of those that follow us. 

Happy New Year.

  

  

  

Standing Room Only?

Several months ago I had an opportunity to go along with a family group to one of America's large theme parks.  My first visit to one of these attractions was 30 years ago, and I really enjoyed it.  Never one to enjoy thrill rides at local amusement parks, I found the rides in little trams that carry you through fake scenes of children's stories to be just my speed. 

Now I found myself at the very same park once again, the place that changed what an amusement park was supposed to be. Gone was the cheap little motel right beside the park entrance where I had stayed with my family 30 years ago.  The park was now surrounded by luxury hotels. 

A few things hadn't changed, however, and one was the neighborhoods beyond the big hotels.  If you came to the park on city streets instead of the interstate highway, you'd see miles and miles of modest little houses.   They are the very icon of ticky-tacky suburbia, with a dreary sameness to every street.  Still, the smallness of each house and lot made me consider what would happen if all these families were living in the typical larger houses of today.   These houses were people's homes and were mostly well cared for despite being many decades old.    It seemed to me, on this visit thirty years later, I should respect the effort of making do with what one has instead of ridiculing it. 

We parked in a huge parking garage and walked down the aisle to escalators.  I noted that all the cars bore local license plates.  True, some visitors might have flown to this city and rented a car.   I guessed that over those thirty years, this park now had a largely local clientele in spite of those fancy hotels.  Indeed, once inside the park I felt surrounded by very ordinary folks, people who might even live in those miles of little houses.  There were lots of small children and babies in strollers.  The park entrance fee didn't suggest affordability to me, but what do I know?

Another difference over those thirty years was the commercialization.  Stores were everywhere, filled with souvenir toys, hats, t-shirts, key-chains....  Every store featured slightly different images on all of these items, but otherwise there wasn't much difference.   Were there shoppers for all these stores? Later in the day we were grateful for these stores, however... The reason will be apparent soon.

Within minutes of entering the park we entered our first queue, which is a long line of people waiting to get on a particular ride or attraction.  Queues are misleading because they snake around the perimeter of the building or ride, neatly channeled by guide ropes,  and they manage to hold a very large number of people in limbo.  Walk then stop, walk then stop, one easily spends half an hour or more in a queue. Later in the day we were also glad for the queues..reason to be revealed soon.

And so the day went along pleasantly enough, with most of our time spent in one queue or another where my family members kept each other company.  For this time to chat we had paid out quite a bit of cash.  But everyone was enjoying the day if only because it was a novel experience to most of them, and some of those attractions and rides were considered worth the cost and the wait.   

As the day went on, the number of people in the park kept increasing, until by mid-afternoon we were having trouble walking at all, in any direction.  We were getting tired and just wanted to stroll along looking about, and enjoy a snack.   It was then I noticed that every store had become packed with people.  Every attraction queue was filled with people.  Every place to sit or stand or walk was filled with people.  If the stores and queues hadn't absorbed those people, they'd all be in the walkways squeezing us to death.

I'm not one for being in crowds that dense, and it was unpleasant.  People were getting pushy and rude, and maybe I was among them.  It had been an unseasonably cool day and it was getting bitterly chilly by the time we left the park, and what a sense of relief it was to have some walking and breathing space once again.

I thought about all the families who had been there that day.  Was it a once or twice per lifetime visit, as with my own family?  Or perhaps an annual outing? 

If these families didn't come to spend their day in an impossibly crowded theme park, where else might they have gone for amusement?  Their numbers would overwhelm most other venues.  A natural setting would have been ground into dust by the sheer volume of humanity moving through it. 

We want people to experience nature and thus learn about it and value it, but  I discovered I was happy that so many people came to a place where their numbers could do little harm.  People congregated into one finite area of development, and one that is quite small for the numbers of people contained there. The theme park's greatest achievement was its ability to absorb a huge dose of humanity every day and get cleaned up overnight for it to begin anew the next morning--for thirty-plus years non-stop.  No regeneration needed except an occasional ride closed for maintenance. 

The people come of their own volition, spend lots of money, and go away happy.  In my family's case, we were ready to be done after one day.  We hadn't seen everything and certainly hadn't gone on every ride, but it was enough, and we wouldn't be coming back.

The theme park is, of course, a huge energy hog.  Those rides and attractions and lights take lots of electricity, and the merchandise filling those shops requires raw materials and plenty of energy too.  And the disposables for food and drink, don't get me started.   Moreover, despite the park being within an enormous metropolitan area, most visitors don't get there by public transportation. 

The thought I took away from this experience was that theme parks need to become environmentally savvy.   They'll always be energy intensive but  they can still improve a great deal.  A different theme park in the same general vicinity is working to create rides that use much less energy as part of a comprehensive conservation effort that  goes deeper than simply what people see.   As long as such things as "major attractions and theme parks" exist, that's the way to go.

Whether a theme park or a much smaller amusement park or carnival, this sort of entertainment gives people a break from the daily routine, a chance to laugh and scream--a place to cavort without harming sensitive ecosystems.  Better an amusement park ride than ATVs (All Terrain Vehicles) tearing up the pristine landscapes of wild areas. 

One good result of the $4 gasoline we are seeing this summer could be a return to make-your-own fun in local neighborhood parks.  A three-legged race or tug-of-war, a hastily staged play or parade might seem old fashioned. People once upon a time got to use their creativity and engage their families and neighbors in pleasurable afternoons within walking distance of home.   Maybe it is time to rediscover just how easy it is to have fun.

One Hundred Years Ago

Photo Caption: Susan B. Anthony was a civil rights activist dedicated to the struggle for women's right to vote.  She died in 1906 at the age of 86, 14  years before the passage of the 19th Amendment to the US Constitution giving women the right to vote.

Recently I read a post from someone lamenting all the taxes we pay and claiming our nation was better off one hundred years ago.  A strong middle class and stay-at-home moms were mentioned as characteristic of that day.  I thought about my knowledge of 1907 and this is what I had to say:

There was no golden age 100 years ago.  "The Gilded Age" that began in the latter part of the 19th century had not yet ended.  This was an era during which a wealthy class flaunted their enormous wealth which was built through the labor of other people.  There was a disparity between wages of the productive workers and those who controlled the economics of the day--often through corruption--not unlike what we experience today.

100 years ago Mark Twain was part of the leadership of an anti-imperialist organization, having toured the world and seen first-hand what the imperialist nations had done to their colonies. He died in 1910, preceeded in death by his wife and three of his four children.

100 years ago the American Indian Tribes had almost been eradicated.  The impoverished survivors lost most of their culture and the memory of who they were, as the last old people died.   Only a vestige remained....

My mother was born in 1909, my grandmother's twelfth and last childbirth.  Eight of those children would live through the childhood killers for which we now have vaccines, and so my grandmother buried four little bodies while nursing the others through serious illnesses.  She was drained from pregnancies she didn't know how to stop or to space.    

I don't think there was a middle class with happy stay-home moms in 1907 as we think of them today.

Yes,  I disagree with many things now being done with my tax dollars, and that's why I try to use every avenue afforded by a free society to change that, like writing this blog without censorship, like exercising the duties of citizenship.

100 years ago,  I couldn't even have voted. 

There are certainly good models from the past and much that we could learn from and emulate today.  However,  the tendency is to see the past through our own biases, as confirming ideas and beliefs we hold today, and to ignore the historical facts that do not support our thesis.  People on both sides of every argument seem to do this. 

Let us study the past; let us learn what it has to teach us, but let us not idealize it.  Mining the past for ideas that can help us today is useful, but there is no such thing as simply going back in time even if we wanted to.  The only way forward is forward, hopefully with the best that humanity has displayed throughout history.  Let's put that best together and create a better world for ourselves and other life on the planet than has yet been seen upon the earth.

   

The Thrift Shop

Today's weather looked lovely and I was eager to have a long excursion on my bicycle before Thanksgiving Day, when I would need to help cook and socialize with family members.  I set out mid-morning for my favorite thrift store, which is close to the limit of my cycling range at present.

My "granny bike" - so called because of its coaster brakes, lack of gears, and long handlebars that reach out to me--is now outfitted with a metal basket that enables me to manage some cargo.  I should mention that I am visiting family in a gentler clime and this bicycle is not the one I have at home.   THAT one is a 10-speed bought at a garage sale and is a quality bicycle even at its age.   THIS one was purchased new, and though that cost more that my home bike, it doesn't come close in quality.  However, its sluggishness helps me burn calories. 

Since I've been cash-poor lately, I have double cause for shopping in thrift stores.  First, I can afford it.  Second, it helps recirculate merchandise without causing the manufacture of new.  On both counts I can do it with a clear conscience.   I've always been thrifty, but I admit during my working years I wore clothing suited to my position, so I've always had some very nice new things.  In the past I frequented thrift shops mainly for items suitable for clown costumes.  Thanks to the 1970s clothing that found its way into thrift stores, my clown wardrobe is far more extensive than my actual clowning performances.

Now, however, I have Christmas gifts to buy and only a new hybrid car to show for my money.  Yes, I'm glad we have the car, we go a long time between fill-ups, and some day I'll have loose change in my pocket again. Meanwhile, to the thrift store we will go.  Preferably by bicycle.

To get to the store, I go down a quiet residential street for a few blocks where I pick up a bike path that runs under the freeway.  For a 64 year old with meager riding skill, the twists and turns and narrowness of the path as it drops down, under, and up are challenging.  Then there is a pleasant stretch on the path with apartments backing up on one side and a ravine on the other, filled with trees.  I come out at a very wide and busy street--so busy I am fearful to use the bike lane along the curb.  Instead I make my way slowly along the sidewalk, often stopping to walk the bike through intersections and around pedestrians.  It adds a lot to the whole physical effort but hey, it helps burn calories.

As I proceed along this busy street into  an area dense with small shops, I have a totally different feeling than when in a vehicle.  I blend in with the people on the street, mothers with babies, young girls going shopping with their friends, boys on sidewalk bikes, joggers, couples--and most of them have a skin color different from mine.  In this city, people with brown skin settled and built the society before those with white--and remain not only in the ranks of historical families, but also comprise the majority of new families.  Those I encounter on the sidewalk are middle class like me, but likely without my advantage of advanced education and a career to match.  However, that new hybrid vehicle is not here on the sidewalk to punctuate that difference.  I am only a granny wearing blue jeans and riding a klutzy bicycle.  We often exchange smiles as we pass each other.

I pass a multi-story office building and see a gray-haired woman attired for business getting off of her bicycle and locking it into the small bicycle stand.  Apparently she is going to work or to some appointment in that building.  I am tempted to stop and greet her, and I should have, but she did not see me pass by.  Seeing her doing that cheered me greatly. 

In the thrift store the social mix widens greatly.  There are affluent people looking for collectibles, whose luxury cars are parked outside.  There are the middle and lower class folks from the sidewalk or, more commonly, who have parked modest vehicles in the lot.  Then there are the poor, however they managed to get there.  You know them by their appearance, often dirty and unkempt, or at least, idiosyncratic in personal style.  These are people who, for any number of reasons, have slipped through the social safety net or voluntarily opted out.  I surmise that most of their belongings come from thrift stores or charitable organizations.

The shop itself is not unpleasant.  Lively music floods the store, there are no off-odors, it is reasonably clean and organized, and workers are busily moving new donations to the racks and shelves.  Clothing is sorted by men, women, girls, and boys.  Then by shirts, slacks, dresses, coats, etc.  Then by long sleeves or short.  Finally by color.  None of it is sorted by size.  And here is where the customer wanting a bargain pays a price. It takes forever to look for the size needed.

There are special pleasures in a thrift store.  One sees current styles along with decades-old fashions; elegant beaded evening gowns and homemade dresses poorly sewn; garments I could wear to any business function today and clothes so ridiculous one must laugh, and hope no one really ever wore them.  Like my thrift shopping of old, I could put together a host of clown outfits if I had a mind to.

The shelves loaded with bric-a-brac cut across decades too, across cultures, across traditions.  It's all there in a kaleidoscope of color and pattern, and my eyes try to take it all in.  But it's rather like picking raspberries.  You walk one direction along the row picking the ripe ones, and then when you come back over the same bushes from the other direction, you see a bunch more.  On repeat visits I enjoy yet another pass along the rows of dishes and knick-knacks.

At last the Halloween items have been removed to storage till next year, and the Christmas goods have been set out.  And what a sight!  Rows of plastic crates on tables hold the small stuff in heaping disarray while larger items are placed under the tables.  There are holiday pillows and towels, holiday dishes and mugs, candles, wreaths, ceramic santas, and scratched metal reindeer.  There are stuffed toys and seasonal crafts both made and unmade--craft kits purchased but never opened.  There are packages of unopened gift wrap and ribbon and Christmas cards with the bedraggled appearance of having been knocked about the house for years before being tossed into the donation pile.

I feel like a true scavenger picking through it all, and a little like an anthropologist.  Here is a wall hanging someone embroidered  titled "our first Christmas together."  I guess that memory wasn't needed now.  There is a cook book inscribed by the giver about the recipient's return to their "roots" with a date only a few years old.    Apparently an interest in ethnic cooking was not forthcoming in spite of the hopeful intent of the giver.

The thrift shop is full of  things that fell between the cracks of people's lives.  I pick up a beautifully illustrated appointment book for a year six years ago, without an entry ever made in it.  I have donated similar items in my day, regretting to have let a lovely thing go unused for lack of time and attention, until it becomes useless or out of fashion.  As I finger these things I think what else one might do with them.

I now have collected in my little red store basket almost more than I can cram into my bicycle basket. It's going to be heavy to pedal back.   I am quite pleased with what I've found, including some nice school clothing for the grandchildren.  I must end my scavenging session for today and get to the cash register.

What if...  What if the middle and upper classes did not have so much to donate?  What if more of the middle class were here with my willingness to make do with previously owned things?  Will the day ever come when this stuff becomes expensive even to me, because of supply and demand?   

As a person going green, I champion thrift shopping.  But I know it is fun to do today because there is so much in the store that really shouldn't be--things that added to the resources stripped from the  earth and manufacturing waste that went back into the earth to pollute it--things that generated a lot of greenhouse gases that we wish we could somehow put back into the coal it likely came from. 

Everything that's here in the store is here because it didn't get utilized or because the owner had no descendent or friend to cherish and use it after them.  The things that really get used, or passed directly to others eager to receive them, never show up here.  Why then were all these things purchased by their original owners in the first place?  I suppose it is for all the reasons some of it appeals to me now:  aesthetic novelty, a chance to try something different, an anticipation that it will be useful even if some of those decisions go wrong.  I'm not much different from the wealthy folk seeking their antiques and collectibles, just at another level.  And the poor are buying items at another level still, keeping to the practical items of lowest cost.  Yet I feel they also would enjoy, if they had another few dollars, something they that they find beautiful, something that provides novelty.

Thrift shops will only be full of merchandise as long as a portion of society is affluent enough to create these leftovers.  Some day, those who must scavenge not as an option, but for survival, may find the supply dwindling and the competition for it increasing.   I hope that the marginally useful or downright useless consumer goods diminish, but that the items needed for daily living continue to show up, for the sake of the poor, and for the planet.

 

Garbage - Out Of Sight, Off Our Minds, But....

As long as litter isn't blowing around, I don't think about garbage.  Well, I didn't until I happened to check out an unassuming paperback from the public library recently: Gone Tomorrow, The Hidden Life of Garbage written by Heather Rogers (The New Press, New York, 2005).    Now I realize that for the journey to Green,  an understanding of garbage is crucial.

Rogers says she got involved with the subject of  garbage by making a documentary film in 2002,  and then realized there was a lot more to say about it.  The result is this thoroughly researched and documented little book that is at the same time highly readable and totally fascinating.  The history of trash is described from the early days of America right up to current practices.  The author explains the social, financial, and political forces that shaped the disposal of garbage through the decades.  And I'll tell you, a lot of it really stinks!

Have you seen photos of people in third world countries picking through American trash (especially electronic waste)?  When our nation was younger, the immigrant poor were the ones salvaging anything of value from garbage, including uneaten food.   Besides the location of the scavenging (which is rarely allowed in the US today),  what has changed is that "our stuff" now travels across the ocean--sometimes twice.  Goods are produced overseas, shipped to the US, used, discarded, and then either taken to one of our large "sanitary landfills" or shipped back across the ocean.   

It takes big business to create those huge landfills or to set up contracts to dump it in other nations, and big business is what the garbage industry is today.  What happens to garbage happens because it yields the greatest profit for the company.   Hundreds of local trash collection businesses have been replaced by just a few large international ones because they could apply economies of scale and reduce labor costs.   

A major down side of that-- these businesses are able to lobby for the production of even more garbage and for the protection of their self-interests, like any other big business.  And like most other businesses, the environmental costs are, as they say, externalized.  The public ends up with the tab, sooner or later.  Even the best sanitary landfills are going to leak or bubble out nasty stuff eventually, since they are built for a use-life that roughly matches the amount of time the waste management corporations can be held responsible.   Another gift for the grandchildren.

Whatever else our way of life produces, we excel in creating garbage and then hiding it from ourselves.  Gone Tomorrow forces us to see our garbage and to know what it does or will do to our environment.   

Trash has been a feature of human existence all along, one that escalates as people become more affluent.   The three R's (reduce, reuse, recycle) were practiced for the things that were costly and not for the things that seemed cheap, the same as today.  Seeing the abundance of the New World, pioneers had little motivation to conserve soil, water, or trees.  Resources seemed as vast as the buffalo herds.   Can humanity learn to think differently?

When Rogers talked about the advent of disposables in the 1950s, I realized my middle class family had embraced it all and loved it.   TV dinners, aluminum foil, take out food in cartons, a box of tissues in every room, paper towels, plastic everything!   Today people value food products packaged as individual servings both for the convenience and for the protection it provides. ( Some schools forbid home baked foods to be brought in for birthdays etc.,  and parents are suspicious of Halloween treats that aren't in sealed packages.)      As for the protection, we are beginning to understand  that packaging is no guarantee of safety and comes with costs we never anticipated.

The book helped me understand that, while businesses label certain packaging as recyclable, much of it never is.   There are no requirements here for manufacturers to use a certain percentage of recycled materials, and it is cheaper for them not to.   Therefore it is hard to find markets for what could be recycled.   In those areas where citizens are encouraged or even required to separate trash, much of it may still end up in a land fill.  Another externalized cost.   

I encourage you to read this book for yourself, because I have only touched on a few aspects, and because its content must become common knowledge if we are to be able to change.  One person or one family reducing or eliminating their trash is commendable and sets an example, but most people will not emulate them.   The discipline of a few won't threaten the waste corporations nor bring the widespread changes needed.      

Changes need to be far more comprehensive.   Rogers concludes with a discourse on some of the approaches being taken today, both here or abroad, and explains that the burden of reducing the waste stream should not only be borne by the consumer, but also by the manufacturer.  More waste has to be stopped at the production level rather than at the consumer's end.    Democratic nations have taken positive steps to put the environment at least on a par with commerce because it serves the public good.   America can do likewise, if it finds the will to make it happen.   

New Home Building--Still Lost Opportunities

Yesterday I put on my Green Seniors pin, hopped on my bicycle, and pedaled over to one of the new sections of town.  It was time for the annual tour of new homes, ones built "on spec" and intended to showcase what each home builder offers.  You will find similar homes for sale in most communities across the nation, though the prices will vary by region.

This year the homes were just as large, but special features seemed sparse compared to other years.  I was not there so much to see latest trends in luxury, however, but to see what was "standard equipment" for energy efficiency in higher end homes.  The largest was just over 3,000 finished square feet,  so we aren't talking mansions here (unfortunately!).

The first thing that struck me was how the large interior spaces and vaulted ceilings made it more difficult to use outdoor air for cooling (such as at night).  These homes are made to be kept shut around the clock most days of the year, in our climate.  Yes, they are very well insulated and have efficient heating and cooling systems, but they are designed for people who don't have time to open a window.  You can't achieve cross-ventilation in the rooms even if you wanted to.   

One need only to cycle through a typical "nice" suburb on a beautiful spring evening to know few  people care about feeling a natural breeze inside their home, or to hear the birds sing at twilight.  All the windows are shut.   These homes have porches and decks and patios, but families never seem to use them.  Oh, I forget.  The song birds so thick in my own neighborhood would find new subdivisions unappealing, until some plantings grow to provide homes and cover for them.

The second thing I noticed were the light fixtures and light bulbs.  At a time when so many people have gone mostly CFL in their homes, I was not able to spot any.  Bathroom light fixtures still had four 60 watt incandescent bulbs.   Also there was a trend away from fluorescent bulb ceiling fixtures that were once standard in kitchens, and more use of recessed can lights.  Some rooms had as many as nine such ceiling lights, all with what appeared to be incandescent spot-light type bulbs.   Apparently, $400,000 in our housing market does not get one the modest luxury of the new CFL bulbs.  But who besides me is looking?  Some of these new homes were already sold.

The size of upscale homes continues to negate much of their energy efficiency.  Some of these houses had garages as large as a small tract home of the 1960s, and basement storage areas as large as a three or four room apartment.  Yet, the trend for finished interior space is for open areas without any particular function.  There are huge foyers with small-ish living rooms, large kitchens lacking storage and counter space, and homes with a "loft" instead of a third bedroom.  I can't for the life of me understand why people want these houses.  The builders attempt to build homes that appeal to potential customers.   I can only conclude that this is what the upscale market wants. 

Finally, there is the continuing lack of orienting a home's siting on the lot to minimize solar heat gain in summer and maximize it in winter.  Window insulating properties have improved greatly, but windows are not walls.  Those west-facing glass facades with no trees are going to be closed and covered against the sun during times the family is at home using those rooms.   

I came home so pleased to live where I do.  We probably still have too much square footage for two people, but that includes space for  two home offices,  frequent family gatherings of 12 people,  and grandchildren spending the night.   Our house accommodates all those activities very comfortably with modest utility bills, and we are investing every year in more green home improvements.  A thirty year old house has lower R values in walls and roof than new construction, and windows of that age are due for replacement.  However, with the right updates,  it offers many advantages for living green while living well.