I've just seen Mark Twain!

The Cortez Cultural Center has sponsored two sold out performances of Dennis Seibel’s "An Evening with Mark Twain" but unlike the promise of Halley’s Comet, the public won’t have to wait 76 years for its next appearance.

Rumor has it that Seibel will return at the end of January.

I just came back from an hour with both men (professionally folded into one) and if you have to drive from Missouri just to see him, do it.

For $6 (kids prices are discounted) you can step back a hundred years and listen to the most original and best stand-up comedy America has ever produced. The material is suitable for all ages, timeless as Twain’s writing.

Call the Cortez Cultural Center (25 North Market, Cortez) for reservations: 970-565-1151.

31 people have already signed the waiting list and the exact date has yet to be set.

Jim Stiles and Canyon Country Zephyr both enter new terrain

The new issue of Inside Outside Southwest features a lively profile of Jim Stiles, the rabble-rousing eco-muckraker, and his publication, The Canyon Country Zephyr.

Stiles has been the editor, publisher, columnist, illustrator, ad sales guy, delivery man, etc. for the Zephyr since he founded the monthly magazine in Moab in 1988. Since then, the Zephyr has been both bull horn and bull whip in Stiles' one-man-front in the battle for the Southwest and its beloved deserts and canyonlands.

As a career iconoclast, though, Stiles has managed to torque not only eco-bad guys (whether in business, government, or 36-foot, diesel-powered, rear-duellied RVs). The article, by Jen Jackson, explores how Stiles has in recent years also drawn the ire of big environmental groups, including SUWA, the Sierra Club, and the Wilderness Society, for his unabashed attacks on "Big Environmentalism."

Mostly, though, the article focuses on two big adventures: Stiles' getting married, having a kid, and moving from the American Southwest to southwestern Australia; and the Zephyr's move from a print publication to a web-based publication (somewhat ironic for a magazine whose tagline is "Clinging hopelessly to the past") beginning with the March 2009 issue.

Regardless of his relocation and new forum, Stiles has no intention of pulling back from personal jihad against defilers of the earth:

"If you read the very first issue of the paper, I said my goal was to make the Zephyr a forum for different opinions," Stiles says in the article. "I sought out people who had a different philosophy about land issues and politics so we'd have an interesting conversation. And that's what I've always tried to do, and that's what I'll continue to do."

"When we come online, it's going to start covering a lot more issues than just the Southwest United States," he explains. "I'll be living in the southwest of Australia, and it has a lot of similar problems that we have here. My dream is to put out a publication that covers the southwest parts of two different continents at the same time, in the same issue."

Check out the article here.

It's worth noting, as well, that the Zephyr isn't alone in seeking a new route across the badlands of quality regional Western publishing. Mountain Gazette has recently been resold -- the second time in as many years -- and, even though a new issue recently hit the stands, its direction remains uncertain. (Its website hasn't been updated since August.)

Even Inside Outside itself, which recently celebrated its 10th anniversary, is moving to a format that will include both a small but more frequent (going from bi-monthly to monthly) print version, and a more dynamic and lengthy on-line companion version. The first monthly issue will be released in January 2009, and the new online Inside Outside Southwest is expected to debut in February.

(And even this here San Juan Almanac was once (for five years) a print creature ...)

National Outdoor Book Awards Announced Today

The National Outdoor Book Awards were announced today. This is a pretty coveted award and a respected list. Here are 3 of my favorite books on the list:



Fallen Giants: A History of Himalayan Mountaineering from the Age of Empire to the Age of Extremes
History/Biography Category.












History/Biography Category: Grand Obsession: Harvey Butchart and the Exploration of the Grand Canyon

Outdoor Literature Category: Forget Me Not: A Memoir

Dumbasses in Hummers

Does anything get your blood pumping quite as much as this?

A look at the after-effects of oil and gas development

High Country News has an excellent feature in its current issue, looking at answers to the title question, "Who'll clean up when the party's over?"

The article, written by April Reese, looks at the mixed -- and rare -- success of well-site reclamation, and the BLM's stepped up efforts to improve its poor record so far, following the passage of the 2005 National Energy Policy Act, which aimed to increase reclamation projects for energy development. Presently, the BLM estimates that less than 15 percent of the West's more than 15,000 gas well have been reclaimed.

The article takes a close look at the San Juan Basin, where the BLM oversees some 30,000 wells. The Basin is expected to see another 10,000 wells drilled in the next two decades.

Reese writes:

Even as the BLM struggles to clean up the past, it is racing headlong into the future. Currently, the BLM manages approximately 80,000 active wells on public lands in the West -- about 30,000 in the San Juan alone. In the next 15 to 20 years, the agency expects to permit an additional 126,000 wells, 10,000 of them in the San Juan Basin. The Wilderness Society estimates that more than a million acres will be graded, drilled or otherwise disturbed by new oil and gas development over the next two decades. When all of these wells run dry -- the average well has a lifespan of 30 years -- federal managers will have a truly massive reclamation job on their hands.

Read the entire article here.

Support or subscribe to High Country News here, or purchase a copy from your local newsstand.

Don't be stupid... read a book.

The cover of this one pretty much speaks for itself. Princeton Architectural Press has put together a pretty gorgeous collection of houses made o' dirt.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, a philosophical novel with a subtle and wry humor, is one of the best-selling European novels of the last decade. I loved it. Check out this ridiculously impressive list of accolades.

For the Young Adult crowd, The Hunger Games is a dystopian cross between The Running Man and Survivor. (Not this Running Man and not this Survivor...) A bunch of kids from different provinces in a shattered future United States are put in an arena (a mountainside) on camera with random gear drops, and th e ultimate goal of being the last one left alive. The whole country watches as their province's contestants take each other down with violent force or deadly cunning.

Awfully friggin' screwed up actually, but a pretty fun read. The first of a trilogy.

An American moment in my home county...

Having made my choices several weeks ago, I had a little free time last Tuesday. I took a drive, with no portfolio, a full tank of gas, a few opinions about what I'd find, and an agenda summed up by one word. Curiosity.

I've lived in places where my neighbors feared to vote or didn't care to vote, and sometimes I've shared both emotions. At the end of our media-fueled year of election hype (National Public Radio actually started a countdown. "365 days until the vote," said one anchor last November.), I wanted to see if my neighbors were excited, enraged or even engaged. Here is what I found:

North of town, cars were parked out on the highway at the Trimble fire station. No visible lines, but the north part of La Plata county showed up for this one. Campaign signage in the area split about 60% - 40% Obama, and a little more evenly balanced for our local candidates.

Downtown Durango felt Demo blue, and "I Voted''stickers adorned passersby. Democratic campaign workers worked the residential streets. I didn't see any evidence of a similar 'get out our vote' effort from Republicans. A couple of businesses were giving away beer or coffee for having voted, a practice I later learned is illegal in our state. Unswayed by appeals or incentives, I hit the road again.

Campaign signs supporting Democrats had been knocked down south of town, but they were back in place. The Sunnyside precinct was quiet, and signage swung pro-McCain. Toward Ignacio, more McCain along the way, then a quiet and almost sign-free home-town of our Southern Ute neighbors. Back toward Bayfield, and a definite mix of opinions in the town center. No crowds, but signs of high interest adorned the streets near the precicnt. North to Vallecito and on the home stretch I passed signs that pointed to the national and local polling results published the next day.

Here it is, gleaned from my observations and our local newspapers:

Overall, my county came out. Between early, mail-in, and precinct totals, almost 3/4 of us voted. We liked change a little better than some, a little less than some, of the rest of the country. However, local politicians largely stood on their own popularity. We're not a county of straight ticket voters.

Early voters accounted for approximately 60% of Colorado's vote. Locally and state-wide, people who wanted to vote could vote, without the hours-long lines that plagued some states on election day.

Though some didn't appreciate the repeated visits from campaign workers (you know who you are, and as a very private person myself, I don't disagree), 'get out the vote' efforts work, and are here to stay. I suggest a window sign stating that your vote has been cast, and commitment from campaigns to honor such signs. Locally, it just might work.

Reportedly, some campaign signs were defaced, and others knocked down, but I saw none of this in my travels. Mostly, we leave our neighbor's opinions standing, and stay pretty civil as we prepare to live next to each other no matter which way political winds blow us.

Speaking of which, now that we've had a chance to vote, and then enjoy a few free (or bought-and-paid-for) beverages, I encourage sharing your vision with the incoming Obama administration. They asked for it, and now they deserve to hear from all of us. If all this just gets you started, you can join a conversation about the American Dream at Bill Moyer's Journal, or head down to your favorite local hang-out and talk to your neighbors, over a cold or hot something.

If you're just about sick of it all - have another beverage, pat yourself on the back, and rejoin the conversation whenever you're ready. It's less than 4 years until we get to do this again, but I'm leaving the counting to someone else.

Jon Stewart has some words for our neighbors

The Daily Show recently lobbed some biting -- and very funny -- criticism toward our neighbors to the West, Utah, after the Mormon Church spent as much as $22 million to help support the anti-gay marriage Proposition 8 passed in California in the recent election.



Thanks to The Agitator for the link.

drugs and fun and cattle mentality

Between the years 1987 and 1995 I attended a handful of Grateful Dead shows. All were fun, musically some were great, most were not. On one particular occasion my friend Kelly was in attendance. Kelly and I saw hundreds of punk shows together (punk being a love, not a hobby, nor a slight interest, but a sober obsession) and Kelly expressed his dis-interest in the Grateful Dead to some shirtless, eyeball spinning parking lot wanderer. The reaction was a simple "you're not high enough." Kelly's response was something to the point of questioning why drugs were needed to enjoy something. Touche.

Over the years I've seen hundreds of shows, some jam shows, some not, some great, some not. I've moved far away from the jam band shows, not out of a dis-taste of the musical talents of the performers, but as a result of the shallowness of the fans. Limited knowledge for something these people think they should enjoy for a reason they do not know. Common tastes can be narrow, especially amongst a sea of like-minded followers. A dislike, or dis-interest of Gram Parsons but a love of Workingmans Dead makes no sense to me.

I often wonder if jam bands would have been, and remain to be as popular as they are if drugs were not at the center of the audiences common goal. This is coming from someone who has experimented well past the edge of common sense, and will, without a doubt, go past that edge again.



What did the Widespread Panic fan say when his acid wore off? THIS BAND SUCKS!

Books That Need Some Readin'

Some cool titles hot off the presses:

I read Kerouac's On the Road at a pretty pivotal time of my life. Freshly dumped and just beginning to understand higher education for the sham it is, I read Kerouac's seminal work and have felt that nomadic urge every day since. This new one, And the Hippos Were Boiled In Their Tanks, is a previously unpublished collaboration with Burroughs.

The Likes of Us: : Photography and the Farm Security Administration by Stu Cohen comes from one of my favorite publishers, David R. Godine. This guy remains old school and refuses to worry about anything but making good quality books. So many publishers seem to worry so much about cash flow that they seem to forget why they got in the business in the first place. I get hand written letters from David, rather than e-mails. I was surprised as hell to find that he had a website, in fact.

The War Behind Me: Vietnam Veterans Confront the Truth about U.S. War Crimes by Deborah Nelson is gonna raise some hackles.

Here's the publisher's blurb:

In 2005, Deborah Nelson joined forces with military historian Nick Turse to investigate an extraordinary archive: the largest compilation of records on Vietnam-era war crimes ever to surface. The declassified Army papers were erroneously released and have since been pulled from public circulation. Few civilians have seen the documents. The files contain reports of more than 300 confirmed atrocities, and 500 other cases the Army either couldn’t prove or didn’t investigate. The archive has letters of complaint to generals and congressmen, as well as reports of Army interviews with hundreds of men who served. Far from being limited to a few bad actors or rogue units, atrocities occurred in every Army division that saw combat in Vietnam. Torture of detainees was routine; so was the random killing of farmers in fields and women and children in villages. Punishment for these acts was either nonexistent or absurdly light. In most cases, no one was prosecuted at all. In The War Behind Me Deborah Nelson goes beyond the documents and talks with many of those who were involved, both accusers and accused, to uncover their stories and learn how they deal with one of the most awful secrets of the Vietnam War.

some outgoing words

My fellow Americans,
If I could have your ears and eyes for just a minute, I'd like to boast. Now I'm not one to brag on my accomplishments, but I'm going to, just one time. For the last 8 years my administration and I have led America down a path of errors. A pointless war taking many lives, young and old, not to mention a, ugh, heck of a lot of money. I've put the economy in the tank, and strained relations with just about everyone. I could go on.
I ask you my fellow Americans, to remember me and my errors for being the catalyst that made millions upon millions of complacent slackers, many of whom have muttered the phrase "my vote doesn't count, its pointless" actually get out there and vote. Without my bumbling and poor decision making, Americans young and old would have voted the same old way, or not at all. I've managed to turn my party inside out, and inspired people to believe that change is possible within a society that believes in democracy. Without me, the greatest election in American history would have been nothing more than an election day on a regular old Tuesday in November. Please, remember me for that one accomplishment.

W.

And Abbey on changing leaders ...

"Society is like a stew. If you don't stir it up every once in a while
then a layer of scum floats to the top."

Uncle Walt on changing currents

This just felt relevant today:

MY thoughts went floating on vast and mystic currents as I sat to-day in solitude and half-shade by the creek—returning mainly to two principal centres. One of my cherish’d themes for a never-achiev’d poem has been the two impetuses of man and the universe—in the latter, creation’s incessant unrest, exfoliation, (Darwin’s evolution, I suppose.) Indeed, what is Nature but change, in all its visible, and still more its invisible processes? Or what is humanity in its faith, love, heroism, poetry, even morals, but emotion?

-Walt Whitman
“The Great Unrest of Which We Are Part”

Election Night Distractions...

I'm listening to some political commentator jackasses trying to justify their jobs by guessing, second guessing, and then analyzing their guesses while waiting to hear back from each state about the election. These people have got to be snorting coke in the bathroom and mainlining Jolt to keep the inanity flowing with so much excitement for so many hours. What an interesting career choice.

Well, here in the real world, my world anyway, it's new book season, so I thought I'd throw some new titles out that I'm kind of excited about:



Serena by Ron Rash.
Publishers Weekly (Monday , May 19, 2008):Depression-era lumber baron George Pemberton and his callous new wife, Serena, are venality incarnate in Rash's gothic fourth novel (after "The World Made Straight"), set, like the other three, in Appalachia. George who coolly kills the furious father of Rachel Harmon, the teenage girl pregnant with George's bastard son is an imperious entrepreneur laying waste to North Carolina timberland without regard for the well-being of his workers. His evil pales beside that of Serena, however. Rash's depictions of lumber camp camaraderie (despite deadly working conditions) are a welcome respite from Serena's unrelenting thirst for blood and wealth; a subplot about government efforts to buy back swaths of privately owned land to establish national parks injects real history into this implacably grim tale of greed and corruption gone wildand of eventual, well-deserved revenge. "(Oct.)" Copyright 2008 Reed Business Information.




Country Music: The Masters by Marty Stuart

One of the best covers I've ever seen on a book.
Publisher blurb:
A photographic love letter to the founders and legends of country music by musician and storyteller Marty Stuart.
When Marty Stuart first entered the Hard Rock Cafe, he was impressed to see the work of rock preservationists, yet realized that the artifacts of country music were being lost or destroyed. He set out to change that, becoming a leading curator of roots music memorabilia and photographer of roots founders.
After years of careful preservation, Stuart brings the early days of country to vibrant life again with Country Music: The Masters. In a unique pairing, completely original for a photography book of this scope, an integrated audio CD is included featuring 60 minutes of the fascinating stories behind selected photos. Stuart, a born storyteller, gives readers a glimpse into the subjects and the photograph at the moment the shutter snapped. The CD includes "Dark Bird," an unreleased song dedicated to Johnny Cash, written by Stuart after Cash's death. This new recording marks the first-ever commercial release of the song.






The Romantic Dogs by Roberto Bolano

Possibly the most badass writer to ever come outta South America.
The publisher says:
Discover Roberto Bolano as he saw himself, in his own first calling as a poet. Roberto Bolano (1953-2003) has caught on like a house on fire, and "The Romantic Dogs," a bilingual collection of forty-four poems, offers American readers their first chance to encounter this literary phenomenon as a poet: his own first and strongest literary persona. These poems, wide-ranging in forms and length, have appeared in magazines such as "Harper's, Threepenny Review, The Believer, Boston Review, Soft Targets, Tin House, The Nation, Circumference, A Public Space," and "Conduit," Bolano's poetic voice is like no other's: "At that time, I'd reached the age of twenty/and I was crazy. /I'd lost a country/but won a dream./Long as I had that dream/nothing else mattered...."

More later. There're always more books...

Former Durango filmmaker's new film airs this week

Lioness, the new documentary film project involving Julia Dengel, airs Wednesday or Thursday night on PBS's show "Independent Lens." (Check local listings.) Dengel co-shot the film, which was produced and directed by Meg McLagan and Daria Sommers.

Dengel, who lived in Durango for several years, wrote, directed, and narrated Cowboys, Indians, and Lawyers, a 2006 film about the Animas-La Plata Project and that aired on PBS nationwide.

Lioness, Dengel's second documentary for PBS, tells the story of the first women in U.S. history to be ordered into ground combat, in Iraq and Afghanistan starting in 2003 and 2004. Dengel describes the film:

Without sufficient training but with a commitment to serve as needed, these young women ended up fighting in some of the bloodiest counterinsurgency battles of the Iraq war. Lioness makes public, for the first time, this hidden history.

Told through intimate accounts, journal excerpts, archival footage, as well as interviews with military commanders, the film follows five Lioness women who served together for a year in Iraq. With captivating detail, this probing documentary reveals the unexpected consequences that began by using these Army women to defuse tensions with local civilians, but resulted in their fighting alongside Marine combat units in the streets of Ramadi. Together the women's candid narratives describing their experiences in Iraq and scenes from their lives back home form a portrait of the emotional and psychological effects of war from a female point of view.

Watch the trailer:

Utes to hunt under 19th century treaty right

A good article in the L.A. Times yesterday about the Southern Utes asserting its right to hunt on southwestern Colorado public lands under the 1874 Brunot agreement.

Under the agreement, the article says, "the Utes relinquished 4 million acres to the United States but retained the right to hunt on the land for 'so long as the game lasts and the Indians are at peace with the white people'."

The article explains:

Under the agreement, tribal members don't have to acquire a state permit to hunt on public lands, but the tribe will regulate its members and require them to obtain tribal permits. Although the tribe hasn't established its exact hunting seasons, [the tribe's wildlife management director, Steve] Whiteman said, it will stick to the same general time frame of the state hunting seasons, and its rules will mirror state regulations. Nor will tribal members hunt on private land without the owner's permission.

Read more about the Utes and the Brunot agreement here.

Read more about the recent decision to apply the agreement in the Mineral County Miner (Creede, Colo.).

The World, the Workers and (the late) Studs

Stories of work and workers from writers such as Studs Terkel, Howard Zinn, and a host of others - help insulate me from the temptation of trying to 'move on up' to live off the rest of the world's workers, and I'd like to wish Studs a posthumous "thank you." I have a tattered copy of "Working," a book of interviews about how it feels to work all day, every day of a working life. The Chicago Tribune has an obituary, with some video clips. Though he reportedly preferred not to use the word 'death', Studs Terkel titled a 2003 book "Hope Dies Last," and he checked out hoping to see Barack Obama elected president.

A presidential poll 'robocall' asked, "Do you think that, in these challenging economic times, it is a good idea to tell people to take the day off from work or school? Press 1 if you agree with this, press 2 if you disagree, or press 3 if you are not sure." The question, reported by someone named ProfJonathan yesterday, helped remind me why I'm a radical, something I've been considering a lot during this economy-dominated election cycle. I work with my hands, sometimes my head, and always with full awarenenss that many would love to profit from my labor. The awareness was planted with my first adult job 40-some years ago, and then nurtured by learning of workers' struggles in mines, fields and factories before my time.

Here in Colorado we had strikes, goons, head-bashing and at least one 'massacre' over in Walsenburg, as the 'wobblies' (International Workers of the World) tried to organize mineworkers in the early 1900s. Unions have fallen on hard times, but as times get harder, I expect to see more desire for worker representation, and a little remedial labor education may help us avoid some extreme actions and reactions. For a taste of what I'm talking about, check out the "Why Capitalism Must Go!" conference later this month. Go if you care, or dare, to find out why they've put a picture of Che Guevara on the poster. I've always stayed a free-agent, giving up pay and bennies for a free life of seasonal gainful employment and very private enterprise, so don't look for me there.

I will not be working tomorrow, however. The original intent of our founding fathers would have made me irrelevant to the voting process for most of my life. Limited to white, male landowners - American elections were initially a process more akin to choosing the governing hierarchy of a private club, than to an exercise of democracy. The vastly flawed system we operate under now is better though, and it deserves and requires thoughtful participation to make it better. Judging by the poll question, we seem to be still debating whether workers should have full participation in the election process. Having voted a few weeks ago, I'll be out observing my neighbors as we struggle, wittingly or not, toward a more perfect union. If possible, I suggest a day of voting, observing, and helping get out a measurable sample of what we are thinking now. Wednesday we can go back to post-mortems of our politics, economy and yes - to work.

Enough already!

Thank the gods it's almost over.

Yes, I, too, have found this year's election interesting, engaging, and at times even gripping. And I admit that I have been moved by the fervor, engagement, and involvement this campaign has inspired in so many folks. But at the risk of coming off like some curmudgeon ...

Let me make it clear that I have had enough of canvassers, volunteers, and pollsters, at either the phone or front door, whether human or robo, from either side of politics, whether I agree or not.

While I appreciate the role that the dispersing of information and point of view plays in democracy (or whatever the system it is we live under), the fact is I don't need a half-dozen phone calls and a door-knocker per day to help me make my decision or to be sure I get out and vote.

For the past several weeks now, my mantra has been: Enough! Got the message, thank you! Now give it a rest!

And lately, that has gone beyond mere mantra, and is now the actual "greeting" I offer these callers and visitors. Especially the ones who still come to bang on our door even though we have a sign in our yard supporting their candidate. Did you think it was camouflage from the enemy? By the time there was still two weeks left in the campaign, I wasn't even nice anymore -- even to canvassers whose politics I agreed with.

"See that sign? That's whom I'm voting for. That's why I put that sign in my yard. Because I am going to vote. For that guy. Got it??"

Hey, as a writer and teacher, I've never been shy about wearing my politics on my sleeve. But this isn't about the voicing of one's political stance -- it's about personal space. My home is my space. If they choose to enter that space and disrupt whatever I might be doing in that space, then that is their choice -- and it's not one I respect. When it comes to canvassers, I feel I do not owe them my time, attention, distraction, information, or even courtesy.

I'd like to note that I speak from experience here: I did my three months as a full-time canvasser for CoPIRG. And my motivations were manyfold: I did it as an exploration, as a tithing, and as service. And even though I experienced the full-range of responses, from engaging, illuminating door-step conversation to threats to my health and safety, every night I came away feeling one thing: Dirty. Rude. Intrusive. Arrogant. When they tried to move me to phone solicitation (because I wasn't agressive enough at the door, they said), I quit -- and went back to my job waitering on rollerskates, where at least the people I talked to wanted to be there talking to me.

In this way, in my mind there is no difference between a Jehovah's Witness, a Greenpeace activist, a Bible salesman, and an Obama volunteer. This is not about content, this is about style. And the style is the message. If someone wants to solicit a conversation with me in some public space, that's their right. But that right comes with the responsibility to respect my private space.

And so, to celebrate at long last the end of this epic election season, I am going to paint and post a new sign for my front porch:

You are entering private, personal space.
No solicitors, salespeople, canvassers, pollsters, politicians, missionaries, do-gooders, or other trouble-makers.
Feel free to leave information. Then go away.

This isn't disengagement. This is respect. This is sanity.

Please respect it.

LONE CONE COUNTRY

V.1 No. 1

WELCOME BACK ALMANAC … A sign of the times to see that wonderful regional 4-Corners non-profit paper&ink publication of the ‘90s revive in the new Christian century as a Google Blogger blogsite … Thank you, Ken.

THREE-DOT JOURNALISM … Herb Caen pioneered the concept in the San Francisco dailies of the late ‘30s until 1997, and (a Mission District boy) I’ve carried on the tradition in Telluride (CO) since the early ‘80s, where I’ve been doing various weekly formulations of my Caenfetti columns non-stop (mas o menos), with occasional variant forays into Cortez, Montrose, Grand Junction and Steamboat.

US ELECTIONS -- DIRECT FROM CHINA … Dick Brett, my good buddy from our old Roman Catholic seminary days at St. Joseph’s in Mountain View (CA), when we were six-latiners together, is now a teacher at Southwest Jiaotong University in Chengdu. I shared his first-hand accounts of the devastating earthquake in that region with Telluride readers earlier this year. Here’s his take on the U.S. Elections from inside China … “Some Chinese are interested in our presidential election. Some of them, but not many, would choose Senator McCain. I ask them why. Those who are for him say his age and experience is better than Obama's youth. These Sino-McCain supporters think the Illinois senator too young. Those who like the Democratic candidate like his vision and racial combinations … I will talk to the classes next week about the election. Today I showed them my absentee ballot which I will mail tomorrow to Alameda County. The students were very interested. They were surprised, delighted to find Chinese characters on the instructions part of the ballot envelope … I said that this piece of paper was a ballot. It is a piece of paper. But what a piece of paper! By using it I can pick the President of my country, the representatives at the various levels of government and in California make laws of governance. This piece of paper is a glorious result of an amazing history. The actions it allows, this simple piece of paper, are the result of the minds and hearts and spent blood and many sacrificed deaths of patriots and dreamers and devoted people from all over the world, and these actions are maintained by love of country and that wondrous thought -- the people are sovereign; the people rule … We the people pick our leaders and make our laws. It seems so simple, this piece of paper. But the ballot is both the end result and ongoing adventure of a particular human confidence that we the people have the intelligence and wisdom to rule ourselves against the tyranny of kings, tyrants, aristocracies, against all those who savage us by thinking birth or race or gender makes them better. Indeed, against those, in Lincoln's eloquent words, who say: you toil and work and earn bread and I'll eat it. My simple ballot, the grand, majestic paper of freedom -- how truly precious it is … While talking to the second class about it, I found myself mightily humbled, and profoundly thrilled to be an American.”

WEEKLY QUOTA … "We were lawless people, but we were on pretty good terms with the Great Spirit." -Tatangi Mani, Walking Buffalo (thanks to Lindamarie Luna of Paonia)

CAPTAIN BAREFOOT ...

Top of Norwood Hill
in the Good ol’ U.S. of A.


A beautifully striped skunk
its tail a plume of alabaster & jet
run over

on the highway where
in the country of haves
everything’s smatter & smidgeon.

And spirit?
What to make
of her?

Drill, Baby, Drill

I did go camping this weekend, but I didn't head West into the desert like  I thought I might.  As it turns out, I have a really hard time going out without being close to a river where I can fish, so I headed to Lime Creek... possibly my mostest favoritest place in the whole world.   It was kinda cold, but I fished for about 10 hours yesterday (maybe, I didn't have a watch) and didn't see another soul.

Fly fishing is a sort of active zen meditation for me.  I'm completely in the moment, but in the background, my thoughts wander to places far and wide.  With all that's happening in the country right now, I couldn't help but think about the election.  One thought that came to mind was an image from the Durango Herald's website from McCain's visit.

(I can't get it to link through, but click through to image 37/59)  A woman holding a "Drill Baby Drill!" (without commas) sign.  Here.  In the San Juans.  Why, I wonder, does she live here?  It boggles the mind to think that someone can live among the beauty we do and believe this shit without irony:

 It's painful to think that so many come here with the intention of destroying the very attributes that brought them here.  I'll take a cue from Joe Biden here.  During the vice presidential debates one of the final questions of the evening was about changing the tone of politics in Washington:

BIDEN: Well, again, I believe John McCain, were he here -- and this is a dangerous thing to say in the middle of an election -- but he would acknowledge what I'm about to say.

I have been able to work across the aisle on some of the most controversial issues and change my party's mind, as well as Republicans', because I learned a lesson from Mike Mansfield.

Mike Mansfield, a former leader of the Senate, said to me one day -- he -- I made a criticism of Jesse Helms. He said, "What would you do if I told you Jesse Helms and Dot Helms had adopted a child who had braces and was in real need?" I said, "I'd feel like a jerk."

He said, "Joe, understand one thing. Everyone's sent here for a reason, because there's something in them that their folks like. Don't question their motive."

I have never since that moment in my first year questioned the motive of another member of the Congress or Senate with whom I've disagreed. I've questioned their judgment.

I think that's why I have the respect I have and have been able to work as well as I've been able to have worked in the United States Senate. That's the fundamental change Barack Obama and I will be bring to this party, not questioning other people's motives.

This is hard to do, and I've been thinking about this statement since I heard Biden make it.  I constantly call people's motives into question.  It's easy to think of Bush, for example, as a money-hungry croney-istic moron.  Or to think of Cheney as Satan...  The truth is, they probably really do think that they're doing what's best for their country.  That doesn't mean they're not wrong, of course.  This woman holding the "Drill Baby Drill!" sign at the McCain rally obviously thinks that drilling for oil here and now would be the best thing for the country and that the land itself is less valuable.  My assumption that she probably drives a huge SUV and is probably just sick of  paying so much at the pump is, in fact, just an assumption.  My assumption that she hates trees and is glad that we're in the Middle East killing "them brown people" is, once again, just an assumption...

From the silence research facility. . .

Here at the foot of my home range, north light streams onto the glowing screen of my laptop, and my thoughts stumble through ambient noises. I could turn off the rock-flavored music on the radio, which masks the sound of passing cars and an occasional train, but the refrigerator’s deadly hum might be more distracting. After an initial meow of greeting one cat has settled on my lap. The other is asleep for now. The dog, as usual, is quiet, and this may be enough to begin.

Back from multiple trips through southwestern El Norte and the northern Sierra Madre, I’m well-stocked with beverages conducive to deep research, and trying to think of silence. I’m reading an article about “one square inch of silence” in the Hoh rain forest of northwest Washington. It’s near a trail I’ve walked, and is indeed a quiet place, though I remember a deer stepping quietly out of my path and a river flowing below dripping trees.

Earlier this month, I walked for five days through a canyon still mostly resistant to industrial noise, with a friend and local guide capable of quiet concentration, so that for periods it was possible to hear only the sound of breathing and footsteps. Louder as the scrabbly trail steepened, quieting as the grade eased. One night we slept to creek and thunder sounds, another to a river cascade. One night featured wind, drunken shouts of locals buzzed on a corn beer called tesguina, and barking dogs (my hiking friend doesn’t sleep easily, and hates the sound of barking dogs). Before daylight, I awakened to a rooster crowing. The last night had creek sounds, and the faint noise of a recently re-opened mine up the slope. Once, a jetliner passed over, and vehicles on the rim highway announced our return to constant human-generated noise. I do not recall silence.

To be fair, the creator and main promoter of the ‘One Square Inch of Silence’ concept, Gordon Hempton, does not claim pure silence as his goal, and in fact points to our rotating planet as constant background noise for any discussion of the subject. He placed a symbolic stone in Olympic National Park in 2005, and since has been using its existence to pressure the National Park Service to adhere to its stated goal of preserving natural sound-scapes. More accurately, he is talking about something known as ‘acoustic ecology,’ which of course has its host of organizations, associations, institutes and even a world forum with a scholarly looking (i. e – sleep-inducing) journal available online. Though some of these organizations looking to be suffering a bit of ennui (most references pre-date our current national economic hand-wringing, hair-tearing, breast-beating, and finger-pointing), here are some links: World Listening Project, the Acoustic Ecology Institute, the Nature Sounds Society, and World Forum for Acoustic Ecology.

The Noise Pollution Clearinghouse and the Right to Quiet Society may be of help. With time, beverages, and a fast internet connection, quixotic seekers of a more perfect acoustic ecology can battle some of these creaking windmills: car alarms, leaf blowers, muzak, motorcycles, loud mufflers, loud car stereos, train horns and even barking dogs. Madison, Wisconsin-based Noise Free America will be your guide. There, you can also find links to quiet lawn-mowers, vacuums, and for the ver-r-ry sensitive, a quiet computer cooling fan.

Gordon Hempton has made sound recordings for several decades. Jez Riley French’s blog has more, and you can buy a custom-made hydrophone of your own. The World Soundscape Project has more recordings, and a short history of acoustic ecology. My own interests lie more in finding quiet places, and respecting them. Now and then, as the noise of living engulfs me, a story triggers memories. For this, I thank Kathleen Dean Moore’s Silence Like Scouring Sand in Orion Magazine’s current issue. Check it out, while we wait for winter to blanket our chosen pieces of paradise with a quiet so pure that breathing might shatter it.

Take me (back) to the river ...

So, it's that nasty in-between time for us San Juan fun-seekers: it's not ski season yet (unless you're willing to hunt for it), and river season hath passed into memory ...

Well, pull up a glass of something and take this little trip down memory lane. Or memory river. Desolation and Gray canyons, to be exact.

(Thanks to "Wild" Bill Boudreaux for the video!)

Working toward alternative energy (wink wink)

Image taken by Paul Pennington.

See more of Paul's work here.

Where to go, what to do...?

I've decided this year to forgo the usual debaucheries and shenanigans of the All Hallow's Eve Holiday weekend. My special lady friend has decided to go all out and hit it all as hard as possible. I'm going camping... somewhere. I feel a little blessed in that I always find this process of deciding where to go a bit daunting every single time I get out. Being surrounded by what we're surrounded by is truly amazing, but seriously, it can be tough to decide what to take advantage of. Do I want pines and aspens, or redock and juniper? Canyon hikes and scrambles or a weekend of lip-ripping trout? I was stymied into a blissful paralysis from the myriad possibilities until I got a look at the book cover shown above. Canyon Wilderness of the Southwest by Jon Ortner is one of the most beautiful photographic journeys I've ever seen. It's a huge book with a couple of fold-out pages that are so huge they almost seem to mimic a condor wing-span. It's impossible to look at and not yearn for the feel of sandstone under your bare feet. Oh, and it only costs around 200 bones... Limited edition and all that.

Looks like I'm heading West after work tomorrow.

More Must Owns

I've stared into many peoples music collections and seen absolutely nothing amongst a sea of CD's and LP's. The beauty of music is of course in the ear of the listener, and far be it for me to insist on things that are cooler than what you think is cool, but I like to do it anyway. I haven't worked this hard reading, listening, researching, seeing, and playing to not. The entire Led Zeppelin catalog is respectable, but isn't sending your collection over the top. Here's 2 more suggestions (with hundreds more on the way) that can help.

"Red Roses for Me," the 1984 full length debut from the British/Irish band The Pogues, led by Shane Macgowan, (one of the top songwriters of our time) is a hybrid of traditional Irish music mixed with the fury of punk rock. It's a shot of celtic angst.

Their third full length, this 2001 release is the one that introduced the Drive By Truckers to the world. The record is a loose narrative set around the tragic plane crash that ended it for the original lineup of Lynyrd Skynyrd, and story aside is one of the finest rock records not only of 2001, but of this decade. 3 guitars or a life of crime.