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Apr. 6th, 2014 03:09 pmEdward Abbey's Desert Solitaire is a dangerous book. Despite the full title: Desert Solitare: A Season in the Wilderness: A celebration of the beauty of living in a harsh and hostile land. It sounds so nice and pleasant. But here are the last two paragraphs of his introduction.
Finally a word of caution:
Do not jump into your automobile next June and rush out to the Canyon country hoping to see some of that which I have attempted to evoke in these pages. In the first place you can't see anything from a car; you've got to get out of the goddamned contraption and walk, better yet crawl, on hands and knees, over the sandstone and through the thornbush and cactus. When traces of blood begin to mark your trail you'll see something, maybe. Probably not. In the second place most of what I write about in this book is already gone or going under fast. This is not a travel guide but an elegy. A memorial. You're holding a tombstone in your hands. A bloody rock. Don't drop it on your foot--throw it at something big and glassy. What do you have to lose?
Let me back up a minute. What is this book? It's a nonfiction book about Edward Abbey's first season working as a park ranger at Arches National Monument, a gorgeous place many of my readers have probably visited. I know I have. He also talks about a few of his adventures elsewhere.
As you can see from the quote above, he's opinionated, which is fun.
He's also a big risk taker. Scary. I can't believe he lived as long as he did.
And he's extremely pro-environment and anti-development but does not fit hippie stereotypes of loving all life forms, so it's interesting and challenging getting inside his head.
Sometimes he's boring--he likes to present long lists of things like rock types and plant names.
On the other hand, he managed to get the word "defenestration" into the book. It means being thrown out a window, so it's a fun word but rarely handy. Nevertheless, when he finds the bridge of rock he has been seeking:
My second sensation is the feeling of guilt. Newcomb. Why did I not insist on his coming? Why did I not grab him by the long strands of his savage beard and haul him up the trail, bearing him when necessary like Christopher would across the stream, stumbling from stone to stone, and dump him finally under the bridge, leaving him there to rot or to crawl back to the river if he could? No man could have asked for a lovelier defenestration.
Through God's window into eternity.
My favorite part is about his first full day at work:
Floyd lends me a park ranger shirt which he says he doesn't need anymore and which I am to wear in lieu of a uniform, so as to give me an official sort of aspect when meeting the tourists. Then there's this silver badge I'm supposed to pin to the shirt. The badge gives me the authority to arrest malefactors and evildoers, Floyd explains. Or anyone at all, for that matter.
I place both Floyd and Merle under arrest at once, urging them to stay and have supper with me.
Here's another fun quote:
The prickly pear [flower] ... is cup-shaped, filled with golden stamens that respond with sensitive, one might almost say sensual, tenderness to the entrance of a bee. This flower is indeed irresistibly attractive to insects; I have yet to look into one and not find a honeybee or bumblebee wallowing drunkenly inside, powdered with pollen, glutting itself on what must be a marvelous nectar. You can't get them out of there--they won't go home. I've done my best to annoy them, poking and prodding with a stem of grass, but a bee in a cactus bloom with not be provoked; it stays until the flower wilts. Until closing time."
I can no longer find or even remember the part of the book that scared me. I just remember that I decided it might be a good idea to spend my money only with small businesses because bigger ones learn to do things that people normally wouldn't do in the name of short-term profit and growth. The ones that are too squeamish about ruining the earth and people's lives get put out of business by the ones that will do what it takes to offer lower prices, year-round availability, etc.
What would it be like to work with only small businesses? Would it even be possible? Some businesses really have to be big: insurance companies, utilities, gasoline companies. Direct flights are generally going to be available from large companies. Amtrak's huge as well. Electronics are also problematic, though at least you can go with open-source software for some things.
Property and some sales taxes go to my city, which I feel to be corrupt; other sales taxes go to my state, which also is not the greatest. I am currently unwilling to move. But if I were to move to a less corrupt place, where would it be? Only two places come to mind: Oklahoma City and The Netherlands. I think of Oklahoma City because of the time that mayor said he wanted to raise sales taxes 2% for five years to do five projects, and the five projects actually got done--at least one in an award-winning way, it took only five years, and taxes actually went back down afterwards. The Netherlands just because they seem to address issues in such smart ways.
The obvious thing to change is food. I could do more of the processing myself, do some shopping at farmer's markets and local markets (mostly ethnic), get my bread at local bakeries, get my toothpaste from smaller eco-companies, and get my ice cream from Ben and Jerry's instead of Blue Bell. When eating out, we could pick local restaurants rather than chains, and choose restaurants that try to use higher quality ingredients.
What about car ownership? Car companies almost have to be big--at least mine prioritizes durability. I'd like to buy from Tesla, but it will be a while before they even build the kind of car that I like, and I prefer to buy cars that are ten years old. Maybe my current car will last long enough for a ten-year-old affordable Tesla to be ready. I also try to buy from individuals, but couldn't find any last time (who weren't obvious liars), so I went with CarMax, who are known to strike fear into the hearts of local used car dealerships because they are less slimy, so I guess that's good. Replacement parts come from national chains--is there a better way?
For home repair that we don't do ourselves, I do pick local professionals over national companies. I used to get estimates from both, but the locals are faster, cheaper, and probably better. For tools and supplies, we could try Breed and Company first instead of Home Depot.
What about medical expenses? Some hospitals are better than others. But most doctors work for themselves or in small groups. Same with dentists. Although I use generic, I'm sure my ibuprofen comes from a large company--and I won't give that up. Same with vitamins. My sunscreen comes from a smaller company, but I don't know anything about their values. I could also use The People's Pharmacy instead of HEB's.
Back to the book. It mostly read like a fiction book. You do learn a lot about life in the desert (and quicksand), but you also get a few exciting adventures and some interesting philosophising.
After finishing the book, I tried re-reading his Monkeywrench Gang, a fiction book which is basically a fantasy of what he'd like to do. (It's about some folks who make life harder for developers for fun.) But I wasn't really getting into it this time.
Quotes of the Day
These are from a college-wide staff meeting we have every semester.
A, introducing B - "She loves roller coasters."
C, to B - "You're in the right job!"
D, to meeting leader E - "I know you're figuring out a way to embarrass me."
E - "I'm letting you talk."
New Year's Resolution Update
I have now donated blood twice this year.
Last weekend, Robin and I went to donate blood, but I was rejected due to a hematocrit level of 37 (it should be at least 38). So I tried again this Friday and had a hematocrit level of 38.
Finally a word of caution:
Do not jump into your automobile next June and rush out to the Canyon country hoping to see some of that which I have attempted to evoke in these pages. In the first place you can't see anything from a car; you've got to get out of the goddamned contraption and walk, better yet crawl, on hands and knees, over the sandstone and through the thornbush and cactus. When traces of blood begin to mark your trail you'll see something, maybe. Probably not. In the second place most of what I write about in this book is already gone or going under fast. This is not a travel guide but an elegy. A memorial. You're holding a tombstone in your hands. A bloody rock. Don't drop it on your foot--throw it at something big and glassy. What do you have to lose?
Let me back up a minute. What is this book? It's a nonfiction book about Edward Abbey's first season working as a park ranger at Arches National Monument, a gorgeous place many of my readers have probably visited. I know I have. He also talks about a few of his adventures elsewhere.
As you can see from the quote above, he's opinionated, which is fun.
He's also a big risk taker. Scary. I can't believe he lived as long as he did.
And he's extremely pro-environment and anti-development but does not fit hippie stereotypes of loving all life forms, so it's interesting and challenging getting inside his head.
Sometimes he's boring--he likes to present long lists of things like rock types and plant names.
On the other hand, he managed to get the word "defenestration" into the book. It means being thrown out a window, so it's a fun word but rarely handy. Nevertheless, when he finds the bridge of rock he has been seeking:
My second sensation is the feeling of guilt. Newcomb. Why did I not insist on his coming? Why did I not grab him by the long strands of his savage beard and haul him up the trail, bearing him when necessary like Christopher would across the stream, stumbling from stone to stone, and dump him finally under the bridge, leaving him there to rot or to crawl back to the river if he could? No man could have asked for a lovelier defenestration.
Through God's window into eternity.
My favorite part is about his first full day at work:
Floyd lends me a park ranger shirt which he says he doesn't need anymore and which I am to wear in lieu of a uniform, so as to give me an official sort of aspect when meeting the tourists. Then there's this silver badge I'm supposed to pin to the shirt. The badge gives me the authority to arrest malefactors and evildoers, Floyd explains. Or anyone at all, for that matter.
I place both Floyd and Merle under arrest at once, urging them to stay and have supper with me.
Here's another fun quote:
The prickly pear [flower] ... is cup-shaped, filled with golden stamens that respond with sensitive, one might almost say sensual, tenderness to the entrance of a bee. This flower is indeed irresistibly attractive to insects; I have yet to look into one and not find a honeybee or bumblebee wallowing drunkenly inside, powdered with pollen, glutting itself on what must be a marvelous nectar. You can't get them out of there--they won't go home. I've done my best to annoy them, poking and prodding with a stem of grass, but a bee in a cactus bloom with not be provoked; it stays until the flower wilts. Until closing time."
I can no longer find or even remember the part of the book that scared me. I just remember that I decided it might be a good idea to spend my money only with small businesses because bigger ones learn to do things that people normally wouldn't do in the name of short-term profit and growth. The ones that are too squeamish about ruining the earth and people's lives get put out of business by the ones that will do what it takes to offer lower prices, year-round availability, etc.
What would it be like to work with only small businesses? Would it even be possible? Some businesses really have to be big: insurance companies, utilities, gasoline companies. Direct flights are generally going to be available from large companies. Amtrak's huge as well. Electronics are also problematic, though at least you can go with open-source software for some things.
Property and some sales taxes go to my city, which I feel to be corrupt; other sales taxes go to my state, which also is not the greatest. I am currently unwilling to move. But if I were to move to a less corrupt place, where would it be? Only two places come to mind: Oklahoma City and The Netherlands. I think of Oklahoma City because of the time that mayor said he wanted to raise sales taxes 2% for five years to do five projects, and the five projects actually got done--at least one in an award-winning way, it took only five years, and taxes actually went back down afterwards. The Netherlands just because they seem to address issues in such smart ways.
The obvious thing to change is food. I could do more of the processing myself, do some shopping at farmer's markets and local markets (mostly ethnic), get my bread at local bakeries, get my toothpaste from smaller eco-companies, and get my ice cream from Ben and Jerry's instead of Blue Bell. When eating out, we could pick local restaurants rather than chains, and choose restaurants that try to use higher quality ingredients.
What about car ownership? Car companies almost have to be big--at least mine prioritizes durability. I'd like to buy from Tesla, but it will be a while before they even build the kind of car that I like, and I prefer to buy cars that are ten years old. Maybe my current car will last long enough for a ten-year-old affordable Tesla to be ready. I also try to buy from individuals, but couldn't find any last time (who weren't obvious liars), so I went with CarMax, who are known to strike fear into the hearts of local used car dealerships because they are less slimy, so I guess that's good. Replacement parts come from national chains--is there a better way?
For home repair that we don't do ourselves, I do pick local professionals over national companies. I used to get estimates from both, but the locals are faster, cheaper, and probably better. For tools and supplies, we could try Breed and Company first instead of Home Depot.
What about medical expenses? Some hospitals are better than others. But most doctors work for themselves or in small groups. Same with dentists. Although I use generic, I'm sure my ibuprofen comes from a large company--and I won't give that up. Same with vitamins. My sunscreen comes from a smaller company, but I don't know anything about their values. I could also use The People's Pharmacy instead of HEB's.
Back to the book. It mostly read like a fiction book. You do learn a lot about life in the desert (and quicksand), but you also get a few exciting adventures and some interesting philosophising.
After finishing the book, I tried re-reading his Monkeywrench Gang, a fiction book which is basically a fantasy of what he'd like to do. (It's about some folks who make life harder for developers for fun.) But I wasn't really getting into it this time.
Quotes of the Day
These are from a college-wide staff meeting we have every semester.
A, introducing B - "She loves roller coasters."
C, to B - "You're in the right job!"
D, to meeting leader E - "I know you're figuring out a way to embarrass me."
E - "I'm letting you talk."
New Year's Resolution Update
I have now donated blood twice this year.
Last weekend, Robin and I went to donate blood, but I was rejected due to a hematocrit level of 37 (it should be at least 38). So I tried again this Friday and had a hematocrit level of 38.