I rode Fudo Myo (my bike) down to the Fine Line Music Cafe this evening, on invitation from Brant Kingman, the sculptor who loaned us his statue of Nike the goddess for our Ladies Boodoir. The occasion was the first I AM MPLS celebration, a toast to local cultural stars, of fashion, music, retail, etc. Brant was performing with his lady friend, Sylvia.
When I got there, there was a line, and the people in it were local hipsters who were exceptionally rude. I was bumped from the line about three times before I decided I was next. I didn't hold it against them as many were dressed as if it were June - until the blond in the red coat, standing upwind puffing on her cigarette tried to push me aside as she exhaled two lungs of smoke directly into my face. I stopped talking to security and looked at her. She backed off.
I had forgotten my ID at my house. To enter I had to agree to be marked: a black permanent marker X on the back of each hand. Don't serve that man. I didn't really need to be reminded I do not belong. Very few people in MPLS know who I am.
First introductions, then a very fun comic, Amber Preston (that's Aamber Preston, if you have her number in your contacts and are prone to drunk dialing.) Then came a parade of all those cultural folks featured, all but one Gen Xers. Ms Angie Arner and Ms Liz Nelson of CounterCouture were modeling clothes designed by a member of my staff, Katrina Elliot. Brant closed it out with a curious dance and light show. It was a kind of barbarian warrior, priestess show down, with a full battery of lasers and flashing LED's. A man of many talents, Brant. And Sylvia. Well, she is simply gorgeous. Very beautiful people, all.
A band called Estate followed the ceremony. I liked them very much. They called for dancers on the runway three times before I decided to accept the challenge. I danced for a full song, stalking that runway with as much joy as I could muster. It seemed to go over well. A lady a generation older told me I dance very well. Two beautiful black women gave me their raffle tickets before leaving. Two more ladies approached me, one asking if she could take her picture with me. She didn't realize I wasn't a scheduled part of the show. They wanted me to dance more, but I wasn't really dressed for it (three layers; though they suggested I remove most of them) and by that time there was a new band, the Red Pens, local faves with a very strong sound, but not really a beat I can dance to.
I could have followed Brant and Estate over to the Varsity Theater, but they didn't ask and I wasn't biking there. Really, I only wanted to go home (to the remains of Monster Halloween) and have a scotch. Just one, before bed. Maybe two.
Brant took away his sculpture this morning. There is no more shrine to the Goddess, here. Another two days and that will be the end of Monster Halloween, 2010. Then I retire to my house for the winter.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Bills and Bicycles
As I have no credit card to pay my bills with, I hopped on my bike and headed down Franklin Ave, to The Money Exchange, one of those tiny bomb-shelter, bullet-proof glass boxes. My sister called while I was inside paying Xcel Energy $350 to keep my electricity on; all I could hear was my words repeated back to me. I teased the ladies behind the glass because they work in a cash box but they needed a calculator to make change, $47.75 ($2.25 electronic exchange fee), for the four Franklin's I gave them.
I biked ten more blocks east on Franklin, to the Unbank, another bomb shelter but with only one lady (with a great voice) working in it, to pay $300 to CenterPoint Energy to have my gas turned back on. From there I traveled north, downtown, to the Hennepin County Government Center, to renew my drivers license (I didn't plan well. I look like a total dork in the picture.) I had lunch in the basement cafeteria with about 200 bureaucrats, which, both cafeterias and bureaucracism, I am fond of critiquing. These bureaucrats were, of course, regular people, like most others: eating, talking business and gossiping.
Judging by the size of the building, much of Hennepin County works for Hennepin County.
Then I was off to the Minneapolis Utility Billing office, where I made my first $350 payment for the right to use municipal water in 2010-11. I inquired with the staff about whether or not I was being charged twice, whether or not I had been reimbursed for the "Estimated Use" charges which were proven false by the frozen water meter. The staff consulted the "Adjuster", who denied my claim to have these charges refunded, on the grounds that, because the water meter was frozen she can't be sure whether I was using that water or not. The "Estimated Use" charges started in late May 2010.
As the Adjuster would not speak with me, I inquired as to whether or not the Adjuster actually lives in Minnesota. I wondered, without saying, if perhaps this Adjuster lives all day, every day, in a windowless, climate controlled office, for at least as long as it has taken her to forget that water meters do not freeze and explode in late spring/early summer, at this latitude. At least not this past May.
I told the staff that the water department should reconsider its policy, as it doesn't make any sense. I considered telling them that this sort of obtuse, insensibility is the exact sort of thing that makes citizens despise Government; but I didn't. Each of the staff members encouraged me to write a complaint about all my grievances. They seemed to find some joy in the idea of me, explaining my situation before a magistrate. As do I, the more I think about it.
I rode my bike back to Monster Halloween, picked up my computer, and started in the direction of my house. I had arranged for an appointment to have my gas turned back on. CenterPoint Energy would give me no time frame other than, "between now and 8pm." Sure enough, the guy called: he was ten minutes out, I was at least 30 minutes out. I tried to get him to wait but it took me 34 minutes to get there, there being snow on the path and an abundance of traffic. He's got a schedule to keep, and he doesn't get paid more for waiting. I would have dropped a twenty-spot, but I didn't mention it when he called and he didn't call before he left my house.
A neighbor I haven't talked to in many months was scraping ice on his sidewalk. He seemed a bit unhinged. A drywall specialist, he hasn't worked much the past three years. He's paying the bills with his retirement money. He borrowed $4600 to one of his six brothers, eighteen months ago, so that brother wouldn't lose the house on Lake Waconia. The brother hasn't payed a dollar back, but regularly loads pictures on Facebook of times with the family at the cabin up north. I suggested people will do just about anything to maintain whatever standard of living they have grown accustomed to, and offered that he should engage his other four brothers, gang tackle the guy and pull his underwear out of his pants. I don't expect he will, but I did get him to smile.
Dug my carrots. An heirloom, St Valery, a fat stumpy carrot not much good for chewing on raw but good for cooking, as in soup. The ground wasn't frozen yet, in part because the snow acted as an insulator. I was reminded what good soil I have, not having any difficulty pulling them out. Gathered the last of the kohl rabi and cabbage, a few fat storage beans that might not keep for getting damp.
I expect to eat a lot of soup this winter. Hole up in my house with my soup, bread from the church down the street, my books, notebooks and pens, tools and music. I'm anxious to get started. The heat's back on. After waiting at the coffee shop awhile, I got a cal from another CenterPoint Energy tech. After opening the lines and clearing out the air the furnace started and the hot water heater too. Hot water? The house is coming alive; it's time I start healing it.
The drain is plugged, someplace beyond the foundation. Which means I can't put anything down any drain, least of all the water I'm paying $350 a month for. Not looking joyward to that project. But there's no avoiding it, or putting it off.
I biked ten more blocks east on Franklin, to the Unbank, another bomb shelter but with only one lady (with a great voice) working in it, to pay $300 to CenterPoint Energy to have my gas turned back on. From there I traveled north, downtown, to the Hennepin County Government Center, to renew my drivers license (I didn't plan well. I look like a total dork in the picture.) I had lunch in the basement cafeteria with about 200 bureaucrats, which, both cafeterias and bureaucracism, I am fond of critiquing. These bureaucrats were, of course, regular people, like most others: eating, talking business and gossiping.
Judging by the size of the building, much of Hennepin County works for Hennepin County.
Then I was off to the Minneapolis Utility Billing office, where I made my first $350 payment for the right to use municipal water in 2010-11. I inquired with the staff about whether or not I was being charged twice, whether or not I had been reimbursed for the "Estimated Use" charges which were proven false by the frozen water meter. The staff consulted the "Adjuster", who denied my claim to have these charges refunded, on the grounds that, because the water meter was frozen she can't be sure whether I was using that water or not. The "Estimated Use" charges started in late May 2010.
As the Adjuster would not speak with me, I inquired as to whether or not the Adjuster actually lives in Minnesota. I wondered, without saying, if perhaps this Adjuster lives all day, every day, in a windowless, climate controlled office, for at least as long as it has taken her to forget that water meters do not freeze and explode in late spring/early summer, at this latitude. At least not this past May.
I told the staff that the water department should reconsider its policy, as it doesn't make any sense. I considered telling them that this sort of obtuse, insensibility is the exact sort of thing that makes citizens despise Government; but I didn't. Each of the staff members encouraged me to write a complaint about all my grievances. They seemed to find some joy in the idea of me, explaining my situation before a magistrate. As do I, the more I think about it.
I rode my bike back to Monster Halloween, picked up my computer, and started in the direction of my house. I had arranged for an appointment to have my gas turned back on. CenterPoint Energy would give me no time frame other than, "between now and 8pm." Sure enough, the guy called: he was ten minutes out, I was at least 30 minutes out. I tried to get him to wait but it took me 34 minutes to get there, there being snow on the path and an abundance of traffic. He's got a schedule to keep, and he doesn't get paid more for waiting. I would have dropped a twenty-spot, but I didn't mention it when he called and he didn't call before he left my house.
A neighbor I haven't talked to in many months was scraping ice on his sidewalk. He seemed a bit unhinged. A drywall specialist, he hasn't worked much the past three years. He's paying the bills with his retirement money. He borrowed $4600 to one of his six brothers, eighteen months ago, so that brother wouldn't lose the house on Lake Waconia. The brother hasn't payed a dollar back, but regularly loads pictures on Facebook of times with the family at the cabin up north. I suggested people will do just about anything to maintain whatever standard of living they have grown accustomed to, and offered that he should engage his other four brothers, gang tackle the guy and pull his underwear out of his pants. I don't expect he will, but I did get him to smile.
Dug my carrots. An heirloom, St Valery, a fat stumpy carrot not much good for chewing on raw but good for cooking, as in soup. The ground wasn't frozen yet, in part because the snow acted as an insulator. I was reminded what good soil I have, not having any difficulty pulling them out. Gathered the last of the kohl rabi and cabbage, a few fat storage beans that might not keep for getting damp.
I expect to eat a lot of soup this winter. Hole up in my house with my soup, bread from the church down the street, my books, notebooks and pens, tools and music. I'm anxious to get started. The heat's back on. After waiting at the coffee shop awhile, I got a cal from another CenterPoint Energy tech. After opening the lines and clearing out the air the furnace started and the hot water heater too. Hot water? The house is coming alive; it's time I start healing it.
The drain is plugged, someplace beyond the foundation. Which means I can't put anything down any drain, least of all the water I'm paying $350 a month for. Not looking joyward to that project. But there's no avoiding it, or putting it off.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Energy
Thinking about the immaturity of America, I consider the confrontation the West is going to have shortly with China, over the world's remaining oil supply. China has been asserting itself of late, positioning itself geo-politically far longer than that. The West has the superior fire power, but if it comes down pure numbers it's a push. The Chinese have Confucianism, however, and an Imperial past many Chinese would like to resurrect. Add the two together and you have a selfless willingness to die the West has rejected in favor of individual self interest. It is likely to be a bloody affair, probably the end of the Empirical aspirations of America and China.
When the battle is done there will be little oil left, and the world will be very different from anything we know. Hopefully, that won't mean a few decades of nuclear fallout, but that is a distinct possibility.
Such were my thoughts going into a late night viewing of the documentary Cool It, based on a book of the same name, by Bjorn Lomborg. Lomborg argues that the current debate over global climate change is deeply flawed, ruled either by alarmists on the one hand, or self-serving marketeers on the other. Basically, he says the sky is not falling, or at least not as quickly as alarmists would have us believe, and the most talked about solutions for global warming, cap and trade and CO2 emission reduction schemes, are equally ineffective, even counter effective.
What does this have to do with our looming confrontation with China? Well, put simply, the only thing that is going to prevent a confrontation with China, over oil, is a new energy infrastructure. Unless we come up with a new energy source that can replace oil while maintaining something close to the standard of living the West has grown accustomed to, confrontation is inevitable.
So, you might think we are spending billions of dollars to figure out what that new energy source will be. We are not. Not even close. Why? Because of our blind and frankly stupid faith in the Market. The Market is only as good as the people who control it, and the Market is controlled by sky gods who have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo, which is the oil/gas/coal infrastructure, which they are likely to reinforce until we commence WWIII. Such a war will consume most of the remaining oil, which we need to help us build a new energy infrastructure.
Energy is everything, literally. Global climate change is a fact, but a global war over oil is likely to dampen humanity's prospects before the warming Earth does. Yet we are doing next to nothing about it. There is no national movement toward a sustainable energy future. We are spending almost no money on research and development. Instead, we give immense tax breaks to oil/gas/coal companies, who are invested in oil/gas/coal exploitation and not new technologies and new energy sources, regardless what their PR departments would have you believe. While Market fundamentalists obfuscate the issue with talk of cap and trade, which is nothing more than a perpetuation of the fossil fuel infrastructure, which is very lucrative for sky gods; and global climate change alarmists call for reductions in CO2 emissions, which very few of the nations of the world are ever going to agree to, or follow through with if they do.
President Obama might take note, considering Democratic Party losses in the most recent election. He might tell America the truth about it's energy prospects, and ignite a flurry of scientific development akin to that initiated by President Kennedy with the space program. If he has the character. More likely, I expect political stagnation, with Republican demands for sky god giveaways stymied by veto, as if simply preventing Republicans from acting will inspire Americans to give him a second term. Two years of status quo, another 60 billion barrels of oil burned up world wide, two years closer to a global confrontation over oil.
As Government isn't likely to do anything about energy, there are sky gods. There has been much talk among sky gods recently, about philanthropy. A few hundred sky gods have pledged to give away much if not most of their wealth. I recommend they devote a significant portion of that to the development of a more sustainable, more Earth and people friendly energy source. There is little that would be more healing for the world.
When the battle is done there will be little oil left, and the world will be very different from anything we know. Hopefully, that won't mean a few decades of nuclear fallout, but that is a distinct possibility.
Such were my thoughts going into a late night viewing of the documentary Cool It, based on a book of the same name, by Bjorn Lomborg. Lomborg argues that the current debate over global climate change is deeply flawed, ruled either by alarmists on the one hand, or self-serving marketeers on the other. Basically, he says the sky is not falling, or at least not as quickly as alarmists would have us believe, and the most talked about solutions for global warming, cap and trade and CO2 emission reduction schemes, are equally ineffective, even counter effective.
What does this have to do with our looming confrontation with China? Well, put simply, the only thing that is going to prevent a confrontation with China, over oil, is a new energy infrastructure. Unless we come up with a new energy source that can replace oil while maintaining something close to the standard of living the West has grown accustomed to, confrontation is inevitable.
So, you might think we are spending billions of dollars to figure out what that new energy source will be. We are not. Not even close. Why? Because of our blind and frankly stupid faith in the Market. The Market is only as good as the people who control it, and the Market is controlled by sky gods who have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo, which is the oil/gas/coal infrastructure, which they are likely to reinforce until we commence WWIII. Such a war will consume most of the remaining oil, which we need to help us build a new energy infrastructure.
Energy is everything, literally. Global climate change is a fact, but a global war over oil is likely to dampen humanity's prospects before the warming Earth does. Yet we are doing next to nothing about it. There is no national movement toward a sustainable energy future. We are spending almost no money on research and development. Instead, we give immense tax breaks to oil/gas/coal companies, who are invested in oil/gas/coal exploitation and not new technologies and new energy sources, regardless what their PR departments would have you believe. While Market fundamentalists obfuscate the issue with talk of cap and trade, which is nothing more than a perpetuation of the fossil fuel infrastructure, which is very lucrative for sky gods; and global climate change alarmists call for reductions in CO2 emissions, which very few of the nations of the world are ever going to agree to, or follow through with if they do.
President Obama might take note, considering Democratic Party losses in the most recent election. He might tell America the truth about it's energy prospects, and ignite a flurry of scientific development akin to that initiated by President Kennedy with the space program. If he has the character. More likely, I expect political stagnation, with Republican demands for sky god giveaways stymied by veto, as if simply preventing Republicans from acting will inspire Americans to give him a second term. Two years of status quo, another 60 billion barrels of oil burned up world wide, two years closer to a global confrontation over oil.
As Government isn't likely to do anything about energy, there are sky gods. There has been much talk among sky gods recently, about philanthropy. A few hundred sky gods have pledged to give away much if not most of their wealth. I recommend they devote a significant portion of that to the development of a more sustainable, more Earth and people friendly energy source. There is little that would be more healing for the world.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Bad Debt
Looking into the "special assessments" on my property taxes, which I mentioned in the last post, I have discovered they are for "tree removal, scrap removal, and delinquent water charges." When I moved into the house in 2006, I cut down three scraggly black spruce, planted post-WWII, in a line like soldiers. I stacked the wood, returning to my house sometime later to find the city had come into my yard and took the wood, charging me $350. There is of course no record of what "scrap" was removed. The water charges total $677, or just about the same amount the city said I owed most recently, when they threatened to condemn my house.
Apparently, I owed that $677 as of 2009, and the city applied the charges to the property taxes in 2010. They opened up a "new account," though no one was living in the house and no water was being used, charging me $800, most of which I paid in the form of $1 bills, to prevent the condemnation order.
Basically, I turned my back on the house and the city, and the city took the opportunity to generate funding for itself. The bureaucracy kicked into action according to municipal code, and now I am extorted to the tune of $5000.
On a separate note, the partners and I have had a conversation about purchasing a property nearby, to open a permanent retail store. It's an older building, having had only one tenant, the inside full of ornate woodwork, mirrors and glass. A very unique property, ideally suited to what we have in mind. The owners of the building have signed a tentative purchase agreement with US Bank, somewhat contingent on US Bank receiving a favorable rezoning decision from the city. US Bank says they have no intention of razing the building, but you can bet money, should US Bank take possession of it, US Bank will destroy it. Minneapolis has a reputation for allowing the destruction of old, unique architecture of interest, to make way for four-square, mundane monstrosities. The more efficient design can be taxed at a higher rate.
US Bank, my readers might remember, charged me $800 in fees on $80 of overdrafts, sold the debt to a collection agency, and now I cannot open a checking account anywhere, or possess any bank card with a Visa symbol on it, which complicates a great many things for me in this credit oriented, automated culture in which we live. How does one pay ones bills these days without a credit card or checking account? This will be my fate for the next six years, even if I pay the debt. In fact, I have been told, should I pay the bill five years from now, my blacklisting will be extended seven years beyond that point.
If there is anything I can do to complicate the sale of the property in question to US Bank, I will do it. Historic preservation, anyone? What can a little guy like me do to embroil US Bank in the great gears of Bureaucracy? Of course, that will mostly create problems for the family that owns the building. US Bank would simply walk away from the sale. The family would lose the sale, and be stuck with a building saddled with an historic designation, forced to accept less, likely, than US Bank would have paid them. Are they willing to accept less, if it means saving the building that meant so much to their family? Once owned by US Bank, Government isn't likely to stand in the way of letting US Bank do what US Bank wants to do, especially if that means more money in Government's pocket.
Banks and the sky gods who control them constitute an untouchable class, free to purchase and destroy a beautiful building or landscape, free even to plunge the world's economy into a tailspin, at essentially no loss to themselves. All the assistance claimed by so-called "welfare moms" doesn't come close to matching the fiscal safety net constructed to keep sky gods from falling. The Fed didn't hand out the trillions of dollars it has conjured since 2008 to all of us, but to corporate entities controlled by sky gods. Trickle down? What, exactly, is trickling down? Condescension, which is hubris, which is deadly.
The Federal Reserve, Government at all levels and sky god financiers have built this Empire on credit. And now they are saying to the Middle Class, you will have to bear the bulk of the pain, if we are to get a handle on the nation's spiraling debt. Excuse me? Meanwhile, sky gods climb ever higher, evermore righteous in the belief that they are saviors, evermore certain they cannot fall.
I will not be there to catch them when they do. I'll be happy to teach them, when they are back on the ground, how to grow their own food. I will not grow it for them.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Govt/sky gods
I've written before about the $3300 the city of Minneapolis is charging me this year, for the use of municipal water, above and beyond the monthly water bill. I've now learned Hennepin County is charging me $1126.xx for a "special assessment," of which there has been no explanation. That, and their patently absurd inflation of the overall house value, by about $40,000 - $50,000. Which means, for the privilege of owning and living in my house in Minneapolis, Hennepin County, Minnesota, USA, in 2010-2011, I am expected to pay approximately $5,000 above and beyond the general cost of living: mortgage, utilities, food etc.
Not an easy thing for an avowed anarchist to swallow. If I were from the old-school, I would consider blowing up the water department, the Hennepin County tax office. Which would be pointless, counter-effective. Thankfully, I am not of the old-school, I do not accept or sanction the use of explosive material in any circumstance. (No one uses explosive material as often or as readily as Government, by the way.) Not willing or able to use explosive material, I'm not sure what alternative I have. I could refuse to pay, which will result in that $5,000 bill becoming $15,000 right quickly. Oh, the helplessness. The frustration/rage inducing, dis-empowering, bureaucratically numbing effect of Government.
At least I can write about my troubles, without having to worry (much) about a violent return. In many nations in the world right now, you can be beaten-raped-killed for telling the truth. I've a good deal more truth to tell, about Government and sky gods. I probably don't have much to worry about, in respect to a violent return, unless a large number of people start listening. That's not an issue now.
Question is, which is more the succubus, Government or sky gods and their Financial/Industrial/Corporate Empire? Who feeds more, at greater detriment, from people and the Earth? A toss-up, really. And our reliance upon them, our subservience to them, will be our undoing. It is exactly as inevitable as we believe Government and sky gods to be. Of course, nothing need be inevitable, least of all Government or sky gods. They exist because we support them. And how powerful and untouchable they have become, for that support.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tails
Thinking about Avatar the film, the Navi, Homo sapien sapien and wondering why so many of my people have forgotten their tails, wagging mine as I rode my bike down my street this morning, a man in an Inferno Red Crystal Pearl Coat, Jeep Liberty, pulled out of the alley to my right, without looking, forcing me into the other lane. Had I tried to stop he would have knocked me over.
Thankfully, there was no vehicle in the other lane, or I would have been forced onto the hood. The guy in the Jeep finally saw me. He looked at me through the driver's window and his sunglasses, in the sunlight, expressionless, in that way that reveals little. It was certainly not a look of, "Oh shit, sorry dude." Something more like, "What?" He stared at me, I at him from the oncoming lane, bike and Jeep traveling the same speed, and I'm thinking, "Alright, fucker. Get out of the truck and from behind those sunglasses and look at me the way you are looking at me now. I can about guarantee, you won't."
Gaelic Football Club? Yeah? What you got?
On such a beautiful day. Sixty degrees in November, it felt like spring this morning. I finished filling the attic with leaf bags, about 125 bags. Now I have to cover the stairwell with something. It will probably be cool in the stairwell, enough that I might be able to make it the root cellar. There is much left to do to ready the house for winter. I still have no heat. When I do, there is the matter of 28 single pane windows, in this 700 sq ft house. If they were all on the south side I wouldn't mind so much. The temperature is likely to drop all week. It's going to feel like winter next weekend.
I'm sitting now in Jack's on 46th, an excellent example of passive solar design, south facing windows with a masonry floor. Three of the front windows are glass garage doors, two of which are open now. Not exactly what I want to do with my house, but similar.
One of the partners is talking about keeping Monster Halloween open, transitioning part of the store with Christmas paraphernalia. I'm feeling the itch to write. I'm sure I can't do both, but then, Christmas is only two months away. In which case I wouldn't really be living in my house, with my potatoes, but in Uptown, in a commercial building. I don't see how that makes much sense for me or the partners, but we'll talk it out tonight. The other reality is, as Manager of an Uptown costume shop, I would meet just about every oddball in the city before long. That would be worthwhile.
As for writing today, I'm going to start reading my book again. My unpublished book. I haven't looked at it once since this Halloween experience began. I'm not sure what I'll think. Of the 20 people who have read it, about half aren't talking to me, never acknowledging reading it. Part of me wants to take the only existing copy and this computer and throw them over the 46th st/35w bridge. More likely, I will publish it sometime later this month as a free download, donation only.
And what a breathtaking sight this new 35w is, from a bicycle, from any of the bridges above the new construction, in south Minneapolis. Astounding, what we are capable of. The rule a decade ago was, this new freeway would be obsolete by the time construction ended, with all the commercial/residential development anticipating it. Now, there's not much new construction and not likely to be for the next decade. I suspect this highway will become obsolete, but not in the way we are accustomed to. Without cheap and abundant oil this construction will look like a colossal mis-allocation of resources. But there is oil left, the supply is as yet uninterrupted, keeping the cost of a gallon around $3, and this vast shining 14-lane artery is flowing smoothly, with an abundance of automobiles firing at 3000 +/- revolutions per minute. Impressive. Intimidating.
Thankfully, there was no vehicle in the other lane, or I would have been forced onto the hood. The guy in the Jeep finally saw me. He looked at me through the driver's window and his sunglasses, in the sunlight, expressionless, in that way that reveals little. It was certainly not a look of, "Oh shit, sorry dude." Something more like, "What?" He stared at me, I at him from the oncoming lane, bike and Jeep traveling the same speed, and I'm thinking, "Alright, fucker. Get out of the truck and from behind those sunglasses and look at me the way you are looking at me now. I can about guarantee, you won't."
Gaelic Football Club? Yeah? What you got?
On such a beautiful day. Sixty degrees in November, it felt like spring this morning. I finished filling the attic with leaf bags, about 125 bags. Now I have to cover the stairwell with something. It will probably be cool in the stairwell, enough that I might be able to make it the root cellar. There is much left to do to ready the house for winter. I still have no heat. When I do, there is the matter of 28 single pane windows, in this 700 sq ft house. If they were all on the south side I wouldn't mind so much. The temperature is likely to drop all week. It's going to feel like winter next weekend.
I'm sitting now in Jack's on 46th, an excellent example of passive solar design, south facing windows with a masonry floor. Three of the front windows are glass garage doors, two of which are open now. Not exactly what I want to do with my house, but similar.
One of the partners is talking about keeping Monster Halloween open, transitioning part of the store with Christmas paraphernalia. I'm feeling the itch to write. I'm sure I can't do both, but then, Christmas is only two months away. In which case I wouldn't really be living in my house, with my potatoes, but in Uptown, in a commercial building. I don't see how that makes much sense for me or the partners, but we'll talk it out tonight. The other reality is, as Manager of an Uptown costume shop, I would meet just about every oddball in the city before long. That would be worthwhile.
As for writing today, I'm going to start reading my book again. My unpublished book. I haven't looked at it once since this Halloween experience began. I'm not sure what I'll think. Of the 20 people who have read it, about half aren't talking to me, never acknowledging reading it. Part of me wants to take the only existing copy and this computer and throw them over the 46th st/35w bridge. More likely, I will publish it sometime later this month as a free download, donation only.
And what a breathtaking sight this new 35w is, from a bicycle, from any of the bridges above the new construction, in south Minneapolis. Astounding, what we are capable of. The rule a decade ago was, this new freeway would be obsolete by the time construction ended, with all the commercial/residential development anticipating it. Now, there's not much new construction and not likely to be for the next decade. I suspect this highway will become obsolete, but not in the way we are accustomed to. Without cheap and abundant oil this construction will look like a colossal mis-allocation of resources. But there is oil left, the supply is as yet uninterrupted, keeping the cost of a gallon around $3, and this vast shining 14-lane artery is flowing smoothly, with an abundance of automobiles firing at 3000 +/- revolutions per minute. Impressive. Intimidating.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Friday Night Lights
Friday night, sitting alone in the Boodoir, sipping a 17-year Glengoyne, after the oh-so-sexy activity, laundering my clothes down the street on Hennepin Avenue. It has been exceptionally slow here at Monster Halloween the last two days, even more so than I expected of the week post-Halloween. Americans so love to shop/and a deal? All the Better! Yet a greater percentage of people have complained about the 50%-off prices than people did about the full price. I negotiate on a person by person basis. Those with a friendly, gentle but fierce spirit might get a better deal. Those who think 50%-off is a rip-off, won't.
Why did I do laundry, on a Friday night, in a city so full of life? Because the wind will stop blowing from the North tomorrow, the sky will be clear and the air will be warm. Because the laundry needed to be done, and after dancing in the street for two hours this evening, all I wanted to do was sit in a warm laundry and read about all the artistic activity in the city in which I live.
It's only nine o'clock now. There are options abundant: music, dance, theater, cabaret. It's also cold, and I get around by bike. Not that the weather would stop me if I really wanted to be somewhere.
The truth is, I can feel myself pulling inward. I am fond of company. I am fond of spirits, and all manner of joyous celebration of life. Yet winter approaches and, after the intensity of this Halloween experience, I'm ready for some quiet time alone. I am fond of solitude. Books are calling. A book is calling to be written. I'm eager to slip into a winter routine: writing in the morning, working on my house in the afternoon, dancing in the evening. I have about a four month window; me and my root cellar - I might not leave my house much, late November, December, January and February. I'm sure I'll have a first draft by then.
With the Fairy's lack of interest, I have begun to question my need for female companionship. Like most people, I'm fond of the idea of a partner. I am also quite happy alone. My days and nights are full, whatever I do. Anyway, more than one friend has commented on my eccentricity. Another has commented on how well I blend in. My father said to me the other day, "You sure have a great work ethic. I don't know why no one seems to notice." Most of the time, I feel invisible. Or at least, unseen. Even when I dance in the street as Wacky Jacket Jenkins, I'm surprised by how many people fail to see me, how many people endeavor not to see me.
I'd be happy to have a partner. Alas, I sit alone, sipping scotch, in the ladies Boodoir of Monster Halloween. Which will no longer exist after a week's time, nor the shrine to the Goddess contained therein. The shrine that few of the thousands of woman in costume in this Boodoir noticed. The shrine that really only was one because I treated it as so.
So I write this now by the light of an electrified plastic heart and a computer monitor. The monitor might be for sale. The plastic heart is not available at any price.
Taxes
Just looked into my property taxes on the house. In Spring of 2006, my father and I purchased the house for $154,900 - about 12 minutes before the market began to collapse, I like to joke. It was one of the lowest prices in the neighborhood, and of course, as high a price as this house has ever been valued at, according to the market.
After eight years with a conservative governor tainted by the will to power, "holding the line on taxes," while cutting Local Government Aid and thereby shifting the tax burden to the counties; a vast Hennepin County infrastructure slowly degrading; a vast county payroll and extensive pension liabilities; and one recession and housing market collapse later - the county has my house valued at $163,000, though I would likely get $110,000-120,000 on the open market. That amounts to $3,500 in property taxes.
Here we are, after an election that was a referendum on the economy, tilting in favor of Conservatives whose only real message was the promise to cut spending and taxes. The fact is, after several years of economic stagnation, there isn't as much money around - even though, taxes, mortgage payments, utility bills, material costs, etc, remain more or less as they would be, had there been no recession, had the economy grown several percentage points a year.
Both political parties have made a great many promises. The fact is, there are forces pressing upon us as a nation that no amount of tax cutting, entrepreneurship or government spending will alleviate. Namely, resource depletion, a debt burden that we only seem to increase at a greater rate when times are good, the confusion between the Market and Democracy and the "every man for himself" mentality encouraged by the former at the expense of the latter, the sense of entitlement affluence brings, and our near-absolute inability and unwillingness to imagine a life less affluent, top to bottom, for every citizen.
The American Dream isn't dead. It is dying. Such is the nature of life, such is the nature of Empire. We can't prevent it from dying. We can only redefine it, facing death honestly. Because the American Dream as it has stood since the end of WWII - the education, the house, the job, the car, the toys - is not Democracy per se. There are many things important to democracy, namely, access to free and diverse information, but most of what we take as the benefits of democracy, the fancy houses, the fancy cars, the high technology, we could do without and still have democracy.
What you can be sure of is, catering to the exceptionally wealthy, as if the exceptionally wealthy are the only reason we have Democracy, is inherently anti-democratic. This myth perpetuated by the Right of late leads away from Democracy and towards tyranny. Be careful, Americans. My advice to you: quit looking to politicians and sky gods to sustain America, start asking yourself what you can do to make your community stronger. The best thing you can do is make yourself stronger, which is to say, physically, mentally and spiritually attuned to the rhythms of the Earth.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
My House
Digging potatoes the other morning in my front yard, a man walked up to me from the street. His vehicle was not marked. After my recent experience with the city, I thought, "Great. What next?" (My yard is looking a bit shabby, the myriad plants dying off after the frost.) Turns out, it was a dude from the electrical company, at my house to turn the electrical on, though I had done nothing to initiate it. It took him a few minutes; he didn't even have to get into the house. Such a simple thing, after so long without electricity. That night, I stepped into a room in the dark and tried to find my way around, before remembering, "hey, I have lights." Several times. By the end of the night, I'd left two lights on that didn't need to be on, for at least an hour.
Turned the water on, too. The tub spout works. The bath, kitchen and utility spouts do not. The toilet tank fills, but doesn't stay filled, running continuously. I was happy to find, no pipes were busted. The water heater stopped working long before the water was shut off. Not that there is any gas coming into the house, yet. I have no problem going without hot water for awhile, but the heat has to be turned on soon or the pipes will burst.
I'm not sure what I'll do should the furnace prove to be dead. I would prefer a wood heater I can connect water lines to, to heat a suspended water tank, with radiant lines throughout the house. There's no money for that now.
Started filling the attic with leaf bags. Rented a friend and his van yesterday. We scoured the neighborhood. I opened the bags in the garden, the bags that had wet leaves or greens inside, to let them dry out. Can't have the leaves composting in the house. I filled 55 gallon bags and hauled them in the house and up the stairs. I'll need twice the leaves I gathered. Not all the leaves have fallen. In the spring I'll pull them out of the attic, grind them up and use them as mulch.
I'm contemplating how to use the sun to heat my house to my best advantage. The porch gets plenty of sun, if only I had the masonry floor and walls to contain the heat. Water jugs work too, but they're a bit unsightly, more for a green house than a house. There's plenty of unsightlyness going on in my house right now. Don't have the water jugs anyway.
I think I'll stack coffee bags full of leaves around the kitchen. The kitchen has no heat but what the sun provides, and no foundation to keep the frost out. If the temp didn't fluctuate so much I'd make it the root cellar.
A lot to do. But, having been unoccupied for two years, the house is in a respectable state. I'm happy to have it. Just not sure where I'm going to find the resources to build it up again.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The Fairy
It seems the Fairy is not interested in me. I just got out of a relationship with a woman who was not particularly interested in me. I've no interest in pursuing such a woman again, remarkable as she may be. I had hoped she might want to play a role in the rejuvenation of my house, that she might find me remarkable. I detect indifference. Sadly.
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