Revisiting some things core to me

I love that Facebook routinely dredges back up posts and pictures from years past. The picture Facebook brought back this morning reminded me of a couple of core, foundational aspects of who I am, of my true heart - nature inspires me and I love sharing that inspiration with others, with you.

Eight years ago today, on a tiny creek in the Willamette Valley just outside of Corvallis, Oregon, on a cold and blustery Fall day, I was warmed inside by the fascination, curiosity and inspiration I saw in the faces, minds and hearts of a bunch of homeschooled children and their parents (short photo album) as we explored parts of nature they had rarely seen or interacted with - it's one thing to know about something; it's another thing entirely to understand it, to feel the connection to something broader than our own private spaces. The collective fascination we all held that day was captivating.

I've mused about this sense of awe and wonder, curiosity and inspiration a lot over the years - still regularly do. I wrote this blog post (reflection) shortly after one of these field trips.

https://notquiteconvergent.blogspot.com/2009/10/fostering-sense-of-place.html

...then wrote about a related notion a few years later - fostering a sense of place.

https://notquiteconvergent.blogspot.com/2012/03/getting-to-know-area-you-live-in.html

Today, I was reminded these things are core to who I am as a person. And I love sharing this with you all. All of this from a simple Facebook reminder of an image I posted eight years ago today. Sometimes the little things remind me of something much larger - what a marvelous little big reminder today. Thank you, Facebook, for reminding me of this memory...and of something much larger.

Gun violence, regulation, and love

JOHN LOCHER/ASSOCIATED PRESS

Meriah Calvert prays during a candlelight vigil on Oct. 1 in Roseburg, Oregon.

Until this world is made new, violence will not stop. Until then, we pursue love...

Some may scoff at such things, but since about 11am Mountain Time, I've been in knots about something...something that felt both distant and near. I couldn't place my finger on it. But it was as real and tangible to me as the keyboard on which I type. Then this. Do you recall the "life force" that Yoda talks about in "Star Wars", the the force or influence that gives something its vitality or strength, the spirit or energy that animates living creatures? Being plugged into this has been something to which I seem to have been born. And a piece of it, a piece with a distinct signature (my hometown), was not right. Now I know why. But knowing why doesn't take the pain away nor make sense of the senselessness. God, please let love flow. Please help us to keep hatred and malice and blame away. Please help us to see this world made new. Please help us to love...

Get this image from the Ford Family Foundation

In response to a recent mass shooting at the community college I attended and where I met my wife, I was recently asked about my 'take' on open carry policies at schools.

I'm still not fully sure of my take.

I don't believe gun violence is the problem. The violence is symptom of larger, more deeply-seeded issue(s). Issues of poverty of mind/soul/bank accounts, people feeling unloved and in utter despair, mental illness, lack of belonging, and so many others!

I  support open and concealed carry, both. I regularly carry during hunting season and when playing in the woods (familiarity with firearm use is tremendously important, in my mind). I think a policy of MANDATED  carry is problematic (e.g., the timid/uncomfortable are probably better off not carrying). Neither do I want children carrying.

Safety is illusory. And fleeting. And the risk of something happening to you/me from a deranged shooter is so minuscule (our chances of being struck by a car are so many orders of magnitude higher) that putting guns in the hands of many more incompetent handlers without some sort of training or regular check-in on their competency levels gives me considerable pause. We don't balk at mandatory hunters safety courses before we are allowed to hunt. We don't balk at having regulations on the dairy industry keeping blood and puss levels below an "acceptable" level in our glasses of milk. We don't balk at having regular check-in with drivers license or for aged drivers. We don't allow children to drive. I don't think I have many issues with making gun ownership more rigorous (e.g., required education programs, safety, handling, situational scenario play, routine relicensing, etc.). Yet, I also worry about someone keeping track of my guns (or any of my belongings; strange that we largely find it acceptable for businesses to keep track of our purchasing/browsing habits, though; whole other topic).

Would I rather have more rigorous gun ownership requirements (presuming there is sufficient public oversight so as to keep from government overrun) than not? I think so. It would depend on the likelihood of such requirements thwarting potential attacks. The gun lobby is tremendously powerful and has ensured our right to continued bearing of arms. Sadly, I find the gun lobby and its message to have been mostly hijacked by a few individual businessmen bent primarily on profits. I get economic motivations. I like to make money, too. But profits have taken center stage over values (to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness). We cannot serve two masters (God and money).

Navy Yard Shooting, Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

I don't see this as an all-or-nothing issue (everyone with a gun vs. nobody or just police/military with guns). It seems like there IS common ground (public opinion polls bear this out). But our governance system is so in shambles and public confidence in it at all-time lows, I'm not sure new policies would be as effective at addressing the ROOT(s) of the problem (mentioned previously) as they should be. Too many policies, in my mind, do less about addressing problems as they do addressing symptoms. If I have a cancerous tumor, I don't want to just treat the pain it brings. I want the cancer itself treated and gone. Sadly, I don't think enough policies have this sort of focus. Well-intentioned, maybe (probably?). But still missing the mark.

Long story even longer, I'm still not how to get to B (less gun violence) from A (here). But neither unregulated access nor complete lockdown seem to be viable options (either end of the spectrum). There is a middle ground, of that I'm sure (very few issues have simple yes/no, right/wrong answers). How to get there, however...another story.

But I leave you with a poem that - upon re-reading it today - struck me particularly deeply: Wendell Berry's The Peace of Wild Things. (or hear Wendell read it)

Rest in the grace of the world, and be free.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Moving, Comcast, customer service and reading books

Where did we get all this stuff? And how do we move it all? (find this image)

Moving is hard. Really hard. Especially for kids. All things considered, we thought we were doing pretty well. But Comcast's customer service made our experience even harder.

At least we got a good chuckle out of it.

I recently moved to Boulder, Colorado from Corvallis, Oregon and was surprised at how much 'stuff' I'd accumulated in my nearly 20 years of marriage. Having lived in the same town for the last 15 years, I was relatively unfamiliar with and unprepared for how much it would take to to pull it off. Despite our best efforts to prepare for and make the move and transition as smooth as possible, I was taken aback at how difficult it was to do this one little thing - cancel our cable television. Maybe The Cable Guy should have prepared me.

Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy

All we had for cable was the most basic of the basic packages. Thirteen bucks a month. That's it. Nothing at all bundled with it. No internet. No cell service. No fancy-dancy channels. No frills. Just the most basic package - the package they don't even list anywhere on the web - the package you have to ask for but doesn't have any name and they hassle you and hassle you and hassle you to get something with more options and more bells and whistles. The most basic of the basic cable.

But we didn't want it anymore. Partly because we were further simplifying our life and budget as we prepared to live in a very expensive town. Partly because we found we simply didn't watch much television. Partly because it was an extravagance we realized we simply didn't need.

But it could NOT have been more difficult to disconnect. We couldn't do it over the internet. We couldn't do it by simply writing CANCEL on our bill. We had to call and talk to somebody. Ok. I like talking to people. Sure. Why not. Except...in all the busyness of moving, it fell through the cracks so my beautiful, beloved bride took it upon herself to ring them to cancel our service. I'm sure she's regretting that decision. Here's why.

You'd think it would be a simple thing, calling to cancel service. One click (maybe two) and you can unsubscribe from unwanted email lists. Writing 'cancel' on magazine subscriptions does the trick. So just asking someone to cancel should be easy, right? Not so much.

First you have to wade through the automated, voice command menus that never seem to correctly interpret what you're saying. Then the lengthy wait for a real person to talk to you (unless you call Apple). After a real person finally does get on the line, you can't simply request for your service to be turned off. You have to listen through an interminable litany of reasons their customer service agent thinks you should keep their service. No thank you. Then you have to listen to all the 'perks' they'll add to your package if you just keep it. We appreciate that, but still no thanks.

Then you have to listen through all the reasons they think it's silly for you to cancel. It's insulting you think trying to make us feel stupid is an acceptable marketing or customer service strategy. No, we're certainly not more inclined now that you've tried insulting and badgering us. Whats that?! What's that?! *sarcasm* Oh NOW you're willing to hear our reasons why we no longer want cable?

At this point - nearly 20 minutes into this call - my usually patient and understanding spouse is starting to get a little miffed and no longer expecting a pleasant nor expedient conversation. But she pulls deep for a little more patience and explains that we simply don't watch much television, that we'd rather spend our time doing other things. The customer service agent, in a pleading and nearly incredulous tone, asks "but what in the world we're going to do in the evenings without television?!"

My sweet spouse's measured response?

"Read books to our children." Silence on the other end of the line. Then she hung up.

That. Was. Awesome!

So is this.



Solidarity, brother. Solidarity.

Planning for Extreme Weather Events

As I was sitting in the office one fine June day in 2009 watching a severe weather cell steamroll its way through the Willamette Valley, I couldn’t help but marvel at its awesome, enveloping presence and destructive potential. My officemates and I were first alerted to its impending arrival by the rapid darkening of the skies to the East and South of us. Then, almost imperceptibly at first but rapidly building to a crescendo, the riparian songbirds began filling the skies in what can only be described as a frenzy. The office was abuzz with nervous excitement as we all watched the wind begin whipping the waterfront vegetation – gently at first but rapidly increasing to “violent storm” and “hurricane” force winds (literally; 3-4 categories stronger than “gale force” winds on the Beaufort Wind Scale). According to the NOAA Severe Storm Alert for the area, winds had already been measured in excess of 70 mph and a tornado watch was issued for some of the surrounding areas (rumor had it that one had touched down about 5 miles east of us; it was later confirmed by the National Weather Service). And the excitement level in the office was fed by alarming statements in NOAA’s Tornado and Severe Thunderstorm warnings for the area:

DOPPLER RADAR SHOWS CIRCULATING WIND PATTERNS THAT…MAY PRODUCE TORNADOES.

and

PREPARE IMMEDIATELY FOR DAMAGING WINDS...DESTRUCTIVE HAIL...AND DEADLY CLOUD TO GROUND LIGHTNING.

But what I was most struck by (no, not lightning), was how these sorts of extreme weather events are becoming more commonplace in the Willamette Valley (throughout all of Oregon, the Pacific Northwest, and beyond, really). Indeed, tornadoes touched down in Oregon about 8.5 times per decade from 1950 through 1989, but touched down at three times that rate (~32 per decade) since (see below; data from NOAA’s National Climate Data Center). The trends look similar for Oregon’s extreme wind and precipitation events.

Number of tornadoes, by decade, that touched down in Oregon.

But extreme (think “outlier”) weather events are certainly not unique to Oregon. Globally, extreme weather events are cropping up with alarming regularity. One has only to watch the news for a couple of days to see a new high temperature “record setting day” in this place or that. Moscow, Russia, typically known for its cool (alright, cold) climate, had its first 100 degree Fahrenheit day last July. In fact, it had several 100 degree days this summer while dozens of other countries were also setting record high temperatures (see below). Los Angeles, California just set an all-time record high temperature (113 degrees F) while Seattle, Washington came one degree shy of setting an all-time record high September dewpoint (see an animation of the “moisture river” from October 2010, here).

Countries that set record high temperatures in 2010.

Climatologists indicate “extreme” weather events (think, 100-year flood event or the like) may become more commonplace as our planet experiences climatic changes. And extreme events can play a dramatic role in influencing a suite of biological and economic processes. One has only to search the web to find scores of examples (see some here, here, and here). Unfortunately, many of our biological and economic models do a relatively poor job of incorporating “infrequent” (and/or catastrophic) events. Partly as a result (see "The Black Swan"), natural resource management plans largely overlook these events when estimating future abundance and distribution of species. And disaster management plans are often ill-equipped to deal with large, catastrophic events that occur relatively frequently (project ARkStorm is a notable exception).

What is becoming increasingly clear is that as climate variability increases, the interval of “infrequent,” extreme events is decreasing. Is this novel in recorded human history? Not necessarily (think 1930’s US “Dust Bowl” droughts). We just happen to have recently been through a relatively stable period. But the importance of preparing for more frequent “extreme events” – both from a biological and economic perspective – should follow suit…but with enough urgency to put us ahead on the planning curve. Shouldn’t we at least have a sense for how the natural world might adapt to increases in frequency of these “extreme” events? Granted, extreme events are by their very nature, unpredictable. But we have smoke detectors and fire extinguishers in our houses in calculated anticipation of (and preparedness for) “the event,” even though the probability of it actually occurring is quite low. Shouldn’t we also be planning for these climatic, biological and economic low-probability, extreme events? Are we – as natural resource and economic managers – going to be prepared? Or are we going to maintain the status quo (e.g., crisis management) and be forced to shift our conservation efforts to “managed retreat”?