I carry a cell phone now, well actually it is not a cell phone it is a smart phone. At first long ago, or so it seems, I refused a cell phone. I carried a pager. If someone paged and I recognized their number I would call them back from a real phone - one that was grounded and had a cord! Only the people in my family and a few work related people had the number. It worked really well until there were no more pay phones. Someone would page me but there was nowhere to stop and call them! Did you ever think about how phone booths and public phones disappeared? Once there was a phone on just about every corner. When I was a girl my mother always made me carry an extra dime (Yes! A dime!) so I could call home from a phone booth if there was trouble. Then people started carrying cell phones. More and more people started carrying cell phones and the price of a phone call in a public phone began to rise very rapidly. 25 cents/ 50 Cents/ 75 cents/ $1.00. "What!" I shouted out! A dollar for a phone call? The phone companies were not able to support the public phones anymore. No use = no profit. Private companies took them over and the cost continued to climb. And then no one used them and everyone had to have a cell phone.
But it wasn't good enough. The phones were clunky and large and hard to carry around. People left them here and there, maybe had one for emergencies stowed in the car.
So the phones became lighter and smaller and easy to tote. Lots of colors, lots of style, the phone became a fashion statement... but you couldn't get anyone's phone number anymore. With all the new phone companies the central residential phone book became obsolete. Unless someone gave their number to you - or called you (which means someone gave them Your number) you were out of luck.
One day people stopped regularly having a land line. Land Line? Right. Your phone was now a cell phone and what used to be "the phone" was now a land line. Nearly obsolete when no one used it anymore except a few retro people without a cell phone. Without a cell phone? Some people just didn't want to be found at any moment of their day! (Smart people I think.)
It wasn't long before cell phones even with color were passe. I mean really yesterday's item because phones got really Smart. They could take pictures, get on the internet, pick up your email - if anyone was actually emailing anymore, and look stuff up for you faster than your brain could remember trivia.
But what I really want to talk about are Smart phone pictures. The kind the local mayor is gratified to have in order to cut down on graffiti and in order to be thousands of eyes in the city for the mayor. Everywhere people have quality cameras on their phones and with a flick of a finger or two they can take your picture and send that picture round the world, or to the city commissioner -- whether they ask you or not. Believe me. I found myself online. Kinda creepy - like being stalked.
I used to think that Big Brother was coming via cable TV. Then I thought it would be through the computer. Then I thought maybe he was watching through the lap top.
But really, Big Brother is very very Smart.
Smile! You can't do anything without being watched!
Perhaps some ways of connecting are more like an invasion than like community formation.
Maybe the cell phone towers will go down with the grid.
Maybe that won't be so bad.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Down through the ages
Four of my five grandchildren were here today. Two were here very early, early enough that I was not yet awake so they laid down and went to sleep for a few minutes before I woke. My own children would never have done that! It was a treat to have them as they live farther away than the other grandchildren. Spring break gives us an opportunity to get together. An hour or so later another little one came and joined us. My other grandson was at school til later in the day.
Before lunch time I had fixed honey sandwiches, rice cakes with jam, goat cheese and crackers, soy milk, rice milk, whole milk - with a dash of half and half, sliced apples, and probably something else I have forgotten. Growing people, especially those with lots of energy, need lots of nourishment.
We went out together to check on the littlest chickens. We took corn and some cake crumbs as a treat and all the chickens, young and old were thrilled to gobble them down. We checked the water and the food supply at the same time. Growing chickens, especially those that live outdoors, need lots of nourishment too.
After spending time jumping on the trampoline with one of their aunties, the little people came to help me in the garden. We grazed through some of the greens. The little girls were delighted to discover that chick weed is edible and that the sprouting over-wintered Brussels sprouts taste like the raw broccoli they will enjoy later in the summer. We planted some celeriac and broccoli starts and adjusted the cloche since we cannot rely on warmth at night yet before we set off to meet the school bus in a parade of joyful noise.
I love to watch the grandchildren at play, listen to their stories and receive their drawings, flowers or other surprises. They remind me that life goes on, that part of me will go on with them long after I am gone, and that what I do matters; how I encourage them, feed them and how I nourish the relationships we have. Unlike the relationships I built with my children day after day, I don't have lots of time for trial and error with the grandchildren. I don't see them often enough, so every moment counts.
Developing relationships that last is really important to me. It may be the fundamental focus of what I live for. Relationships with my family, with the land, with the creatures that come to be with me for a time, with my community, with the human family, the earth and with the Spirit that connects us all.
When I am sitting outside on my front porch in the sun I feel the warmth that is given to all living things and know our connection. I feel deep inside that what I do to earth and air and water ripples out to all the lives that depend on this planet for life just as I do. I envision us all taking care of one another and living on through one another down through the ages.
Only then can I deal with the news.
Before lunch time I had fixed honey sandwiches, rice cakes with jam, goat cheese and crackers, soy milk, rice milk, whole milk - with a dash of half and half, sliced apples, and probably something else I have forgotten. Growing people, especially those with lots of energy, need lots of nourishment.
We went out together to check on the littlest chickens. We took corn and some cake crumbs as a treat and all the chickens, young and old were thrilled to gobble them down. We checked the water and the food supply at the same time. Growing chickens, especially those that live outdoors, need lots of nourishment too.
After spending time jumping on the trampoline with one of their aunties, the little people came to help me in the garden. We grazed through some of the greens. The little girls were delighted to discover that chick weed is edible and that the sprouting over-wintered Brussels sprouts taste like the raw broccoli they will enjoy later in the summer. We planted some celeriac and broccoli starts and adjusted the cloche since we cannot rely on warmth at night yet before we set off to meet the school bus in a parade of joyful noise.
I love to watch the grandchildren at play, listen to their stories and receive their drawings, flowers or other surprises. They remind me that life goes on, that part of me will go on with them long after I am gone, and that what I do matters; how I encourage them, feed them and how I nourish the relationships we have. Unlike the relationships I built with my children day after day, I don't have lots of time for trial and error with the grandchildren. I don't see them often enough, so every moment counts.
Developing relationships that last is really important to me. It may be the fundamental focus of what I live for. Relationships with my family, with the land, with the creatures that come to be with me for a time, with my community, with the human family, the earth and with the Spirit that connects us all.
When I am sitting outside on my front porch in the sun I feel the warmth that is given to all living things and know our connection. I feel deep inside that what I do to earth and air and water ripples out to all the lives that depend on this planet for life just as I do. I envision us all taking care of one another and living on through one another down through the ages.
Only then can I deal with the news.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Walking
I walked today. I walked to the nearest transit center about a mile from my house and then I walked to an appointment from work and back again. It makes me feel virtuous to walk especially when it is raining, or hailing as it was today on my walk back to my office. I wear a wool cape with a hood when I walk so I don't have to use an umbrella, though sometimes I carry one just in case there is a drenching down pour. This morning I tried to take everything out of my bag that wasn't really necessary since the weight has begun to hurt my shoulder. The boots I was wearing are not really good for long walks so my knee began to hurt after a time as well.
Several years ago I was visiting a friend's family up in the hills of Guatemala. Everyone walked, young and old, elderly and infirm. One day the family had to go into the higher hills to collect firewood. I went with them. The path was steep and it took all my skill to stay upright and a lot of my energy to keep moving so as not to get left behind. I was huffing and puffing by the time we arrived. Around me the women, including ones much older than me, were not only walking easily, they were carrying infants. I had to sit and rest while the women went about picking up sticks and making bundles. There was one man with us and he found a fairly good sized log. It was about 8-9 inches in diameter and about five or six feet long.
When enough fuel was gathered we started down the hill. The women carried stacks of sticks on their heads. The children helped as well. The man carried the log on his back and one of the older boys wanted to carry his load of sticks on his back as well. I just tried to keep my balance. No one complained. Everyone walked.
When I walk to the transit center I walk along a busy highway. Most of the cars going by have a single passenger. Sometimes someone I know drives by and waves or honks their horn. Once a friend said that he always saw me walking and that it was inspiring - a good example. I don't feel like a good example. Most of the time I just feel tired and sore. I am trying very hard to get into shape so I won't be left behind if a day comes when I must rely on walking.
However did people get into such a place where walking which is a natural, healthy and environmentally sound form of transportation feels like work? Or makes us feel virtuous for leaving our cars at home or for getting exercise? Human beings were made to walk. We had nomadic beginnings. We found food and made friends along the way. We got up in the morning and began to walk. We rested when we laid down at night. No one complained. Everyone walked.
Several years ago I was visiting a friend's family up in the hills of Guatemala. Everyone walked, young and old, elderly and infirm. One day the family had to go into the higher hills to collect firewood. I went with them. The path was steep and it took all my skill to stay upright and a lot of my energy to keep moving so as not to get left behind. I was huffing and puffing by the time we arrived. Around me the women, including ones much older than me, were not only walking easily, they were carrying infants. I had to sit and rest while the women went about picking up sticks and making bundles. There was one man with us and he found a fairly good sized log. It was about 8-9 inches in diameter and about five or six feet long.
When enough fuel was gathered we started down the hill. The women carried stacks of sticks on their heads. The children helped as well. The man carried the log on his back and one of the older boys wanted to carry his load of sticks on his back as well. I just tried to keep my balance. No one complained. Everyone walked.
When I walk to the transit center I walk along a busy highway. Most of the cars going by have a single passenger. Sometimes someone I know drives by and waves or honks their horn. Once a friend said that he always saw me walking and that it was inspiring - a good example. I don't feel like a good example. Most of the time I just feel tired and sore. I am trying very hard to get into shape so I won't be left behind if a day comes when I must rely on walking.
However did people get into such a place where walking which is a natural, healthy and environmentally sound form of transportation feels like work? Or makes us feel virtuous for leaving our cars at home or for getting exercise? Human beings were made to walk. We had nomadic beginnings. We found food and made friends along the way. We got up in the morning and began to walk. We rested when we laid down at night. No one complained. Everyone walked.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Memory Loss
When I see my grandchildren with calculators, computers and smart phones I worry that they will not learn how to remember things like multiplication tables, and favorite poems. They are not the only ones at risk though. I went to dinner with family one night and we were talking about favorite movies. A dispute arose around whether or not Paul Newman had been in a particular movie, I don't remember which one, but the dispute was short lived. Within 60 seconds three generations of smart phone users were online digging up the data.
When I was younger I worked for The telephone company (Ma Belle) in directory assistance. I prided myself on how many common numbers I knew from memory. Now, I struggle to remember my sister's number, but it is not simply due to age. She has a home phone and a cell phone and two addresses as well, just like nearly everyone I know. It is too much data to catalog in my brain so I rely on my cell phone to remember for me which means that gradually I know fewer and fewer numbers by memory. Since most people are no longer listed in a central phone book, losing my cell phone would mean losing touch with a number of people I don't see often.
Losing data, and the ability to remember without a techno assist, or worse, never learning to use your memory seems very sad for the human community. Stories and history, genealogies, songs and guiding principles were part of a vast collection of oral knowledge long before we of the present day were born. Yet in a few generations a large chunk of that knowledge could vanish if we lost access to the grid. What used to be stored in human brains is now stored in huge data banks that use an enormous amount of fossil fuel energy to maintain.
Yesterday three pullets came home to the chicken coop: a white leghorn, a spotted Plymouth, and a black sex link by breed. They were promptly named Jackie, April and Rosie. The two elder Australorps, Princess and Persephone, were not really thrilled especially when Jackie began bossing them around. The fence within the coop that was built to keep the new ones safe until they were accepted by their elders proved to be a waste of time since with Jackie's agile instruction, all three were able to fly over it in a matter of hours.
Chickens have been an essential part of human communities for thousands of years. According to Barbara Kilarski in Keep Chickens! Tending Small Flocks in Cities, Suburbs, and Other Small Spaces,(North Adams, MA: Storey Publishing, 2003)today's domestic chickens originated in Southeast Asia about 6,000 - 8,000 years ago, were domesticated in India between 4,000 and 3,000 B.C., and, likely came to America with the first European explorers.(pg. 32-33) Apparently Chicken knowledge within the human family is ancient. Yet I know only what I have picked up in the last three years by trial and error, by reading books and in an emergency, by searching the internet - unless of course my one chicken owning friend is at home. Even then, his knowledge is limited to his own personal trial and error experience.
For generations of explorers, settlers, farmers, and local families who relied on chickens for food and feathers, chicken knowledge was passed on through family and community conversation. Chickens? Everyone had them and knew what to do by osmosis. But I am panicky when Jackie begins chasing her elders. Is Jackie really Jack? Is that why she/he is so aggressive? How ever do I know, and what will happen to her/him if I have to exchange for a certified hen since roosters are not allowed in my part of the civilized world? How do I know when being broody is normal and when does it mean something is wrong? Red spots in the egg yolk? Why did this knowledge drop out of the general population that eats eggs and, gasp, those who eat chicken too?
Of course. That knowledge is no longer necessary for most urban people. But like telephone numbers on the cell phone, a day could come when the knowledge is needed but the information is lost.
My task for today is to memorize a few lines of my favorite Mary Oliver poem, but first I need to go check on April, Rosie, Jackie and their Aunties.
When I was younger I worked for The telephone company (Ma Belle) in directory assistance. I prided myself on how many common numbers I knew from memory. Now, I struggle to remember my sister's number, but it is not simply due to age. She has a home phone and a cell phone and two addresses as well, just like nearly everyone I know. It is too much data to catalog in my brain so I rely on my cell phone to remember for me which means that gradually I know fewer and fewer numbers by memory. Since most people are no longer listed in a central phone book, losing my cell phone would mean losing touch with a number of people I don't see often.
Losing data, and the ability to remember without a techno assist, or worse, never learning to use your memory seems very sad for the human community. Stories and history, genealogies, songs and guiding principles were part of a vast collection of oral knowledge long before we of the present day were born. Yet in a few generations a large chunk of that knowledge could vanish if we lost access to the grid. What used to be stored in human brains is now stored in huge data banks that use an enormous amount of fossil fuel energy to maintain.
Yesterday three pullets came home to the chicken coop: a white leghorn, a spotted Plymouth, and a black sex link by breed. They were promptly named Jackie, April and Rosie. The two elder Australorps, Princess and Persephone, were not really thrilled especially when Jackie began bossing them around. The fence within the coop that was built to keep the new ones safe until they were accepted by their elders proved to be a waste of time since with Jackie's agile instruction, all three were able to fly over it in a matter of hours.
Chickens have been an essential part of human communities for thousands of years. According to Barbara Kilarski in Keep Chickens! Tending Small Flocks in Cities, Suburbs, and Other Small Spaces,(North Adams, MA: Storey Publishing, 2003)today's domestic chickens originated in Southeast Asia about 6,000 - 8,000 years ago, were domesticated in India between 4,000 and 3,000 B.C., and, likely came to America with the first European explorers.(pg. 32-33) Apparently Chicken knowledge within the human family is ancient. Yet I know only what I have picked up in the last three years by trial and error, by reading books and in an emergency, by searching the internet - unless of course my one chicken owning friend is at home. Even then, his knowledge is limited to his own personal trial and error experience.
For generations of explorers, settlers, farmers, and local families who relied on chickens for food and feathers, chicken knowledge was passed on through family and community conversation. Chickens? Everyone had them and knew what to do by osmosis. But I am panicky when Jackie begins chasing her elders. Is Jackie really Jack? Is that why she/he is so aggressive? How ever do I know, and what will happen to her/him if I have to exchange for a certified hen since roosters are not allowed in my part of the civilized world? How do I know when being broody is normal and when does it mean something is wrong? Red spots in the egg yolk? Why did this knowledge drop out of the general population that eats eggs and, gasp, those who eat chicken too?
Of course. That knowledge is no longer necessary for most urban people. But like telephone numbers on the cell phone, a day could come when the knowledge is needed but the information is lost.
My task for today is to memorize a few lines of my favorite Mary Oliver poem, but first I need to go check on April, Rosie, Jackie and their Aunties.
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