Nice to know people out there are paying attention............
More restaurants are going green by going local
One Los Angeles menu boasts dishes where 90 percent of the ingredients were raised within 400 miles.
By Daniel B. Wood | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
Los Angeles
One course at a time, David Siegel consumes five gourmet dishes remarkable for their flavor and also for where the ingredients came from: sardines and sand dabs from Monterey Bay, Calif., squab and veal from the state's central coast, and strawberries from Oxnard, Calif.
"Ordinarily, I would be gun-shy and run the other way when I hear the word 'sardine,' " says Mr. Siegel. But "because they didn't have to preserve it in salt, this had a freshness and nonfishy taste I've never experienced. It was delightful."
The comment is music to the ears of Neal Fraser, chef of the well-known Grace Restaurant here, who designed a "Close to Home" menu where 90 percent of the ingredients are sourced within 400 miles. Advancing a so-called "socially and environmentally responsible" agenda throughout his restaurant – which includes serving filtered local tap water rather than bottled water from afar and fueling his own car with leftover vegetable oil – Mr. Fraser is part of a growing nationwide restaurant movement to go "green." The ideas are not new, say experts, but they are gaining fresh currency because of the burgeoning global environmental movement and new generations of youth with budding enthusiasm for long-established notions of sustainability, ecological health, and food safety.
As exemplified by Grace Restaurant, one key idea is to leave less of a carbon footprint wherever possible – choosing local meats, vegetables, fish, and fruit over those shipped from thousands of miles away. Another push is to support smaller local ranchers and farmers who avoid the kinds of animal diets and pesticides that are typically used for produce and meat and are often served in the nation's 1 million restaurants.
There is a laundry list of other strategies to reduce global warming: from recycling and composting waste to conserving water and lights, using nontoxic cleaners, tapping wind or other "green" power, and designing minimal-impact buildings. Like Grace, many restaurants are moving away from bottled water because of environmental concerns about bottle waste, refrigeration needed, transportation costs, and shipping containers.
"I just began to think about the future of the planet that my daughters would be inheriting and their children and so forth," says Fraser, who decided it was time to change after seeing the movie "An Inconvenient Truth," starring Al Gore.
Supporters report more interest by owners and diners than at any time since such notions began coalescing in the late 1960s. "The movement today is really huge and the debate is getting a far broader audience now," says Wynnie Stein, co-owner of Moosewood Restaurant in Ithaca, N.Y., considered one of the national pioneers of locally sourced organic farming. "It's everybody from restaurants to colleges to food-service directors in schools, hospitals. People are very concerned about the environment for themselves and future generations and there is a new urgency to dramatically expand on ideas that have been around for years."
One measure of the interest is the growth of the Green Restaurant Association, which certifies restaurants coast to coast and encourages them to take four new steps to help the environment each year. Founded in 1990 in San Diego, the association has seen the number of its certified restaurants skyrocket from 60 to 300 in the past two years. The group is also negotiating with major restaurant chains, which could rapidly boost membership to 5,000.
"In the last year we have gotten more interest than in the previous 16 years combined," says founder and director Michael Oshman. "It's beginning to build exponentially from interest of previous decades."
Such restaurants are also drawing attention to the plight of smaller farms, ranches, and suppliers whose practices fit the model but are in danger of being lost.
"Government policies are making it very hard for the smaller, independent, family-run businesses, which operate with higher environmental standards," says Mike Antoci, who runs Superior Anhausner Foods, a Los Angeles distributor. "Restaurants like Fraser's are starting to raise public consciousness about what is at stake."
The new spotlight is creating a domino effect, say observers, in which restaurant customers begin to ask more questions about the local-food movement.
"We have seen a dramatic increase in the number of people who value the availability of food produced right in their own community," says Linda Halley, who runs Fairview Gardens, a nonprofit organic farm and education center in Goleta, Calif.
Some observers question some of the claims of the local-food movement. They say it's entirely possible that food grown locally could have a considerably larger carbon footprint than food flown halfway around the world because transportation represents only a tiny fraction – some experts say as little as 2 percent – of the energy required to grow, store, process, and package the food.
Supporters say that the movement is raising questions that society needs to ask. Mr. Oshman notes that Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, with 200 stores nationwide, was the first large chain to be certified green last year and this year has announced it will run its stores on windpower exclusively. "If larger chains like this can do it, it shows this is not a fringe thing anymore."
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Great Op-ed this morning........
My blog is sucking right now, but things sure are good! Great Summer all round, maturing ideas lead more people to our doors every day. It's time to look at some land, and some housing for our crew.........Here's a great article on the evolving west re:drought and self reliance.........
July 29, 2007
Op-Ed Contributor
Sunny California
By MIKE MADISON
Winters, Calif.
THERE is no better year for farming in California than the first year of a drought. The lakes and reservoirs still hold ample water from the year before, and the farmer can go about his chores without inconvenient rains confounding his schedule. Sunlight pours down from a cloudless sky. The crops prosper. Life is good.
That’s our situation in the Sacramento Valley at the moment. We’ve had an unusually dry year, and I had to start irrigating in January — ordinarily our rainiest month — and I’ve kept at it all through the spring and summer.
Even if I were housebound and someone else was doing the irrigating, I would know from one glance at the electric bill. It takes a lot of power to move that water around, and it’s the single biggest expense on my farm. Some of my neighbors, who farm on a bigger scale than I do, have electric bills in the summer of $8,000 a month.
This year I’m converting my irrigation to solar power, installing silicon panels that turn sunlight into electricity. This will drive the pumps that lift water from underground and push it through the eight miles of plastic pipes that make up my irrigation system. Even though the panels are expensive, the return on my investment is about 12 percent, better than almost any stock or bond fund I could buy.
I’m not alone in the conversion to solar-powered irrigation. Drive the back roads around here and you will see solar panels on the roofs of barns and sheds or simply mounted on racks out in the open. If we keep at this long enough, we may reach the day when we can take down the miles of poles and wires that bring electricity from afar, and sell them for scrap.
In my neighborhood, walnuts are the preferred crop; they’re reliably profitable every year. But walnut trees are thirsty, and their irrigation has an urgency about it that will keep the walnut farmer awake at night. I didn’t want that particular worry in my life, and so I chose crops — apricots, olives, quince — that will tolerate a drought. I could skip irrigation for a year, and the trees would sulk, but they wouldn’t die.
Growing trees has a slower pace to it than farming row crops. The farmer of row crops — tomatoes, cucumbers, corn — believes that the future will arrive in about 110 days, maybe sooner. But the orchardist thinks in decades. He plants an orchard at great expense, and then waits six years for his first harvest. And it takes a decade after that to pay off his investment and start making money. To one who thinks in these terms, the year 2030 doesn’t seem far off.
As I mentioned, the first year of a drought is a gift to the farmer. Our apricot trees flowered under clear skies, the bees did their job, and in June we harvested a record crop. I sold fresh apricots, I dried apricots, and my wife put up 800 jars of apricot jam: straight apricot, apricot with lime, apricot with saffron. The other crops in the district — olives, walnuts, almonds, plums — are on the same track, heading for a record harvest.
But there is a dark side to this. If the first year of a drought is a gift, the second year is a worry, and the third year is a crisis. That crisis has a twist to it. In the third year, the lakes and reservoirs are empty, and not only is water in short supply, but so is electricity, for with empty reservoirs there is no flowing water to turn the hydroelectric turbines. We get power failures that frustrate irrigation and every other sort of industry. The farmers age a lot in those years.
Of course, the weather is undependable; it always has been, and our best guesses about it, like scientists’ predictions that a climate shift means that the West has many more years of drought ahead, are still guesses. But another observation, which 20 years ago would have seemed preposterous, is that the Pacific Gas and Electric Company is also not entirely dependable, and so we make our own arrangements for electricity.
We won’t know until next year whether this is the first year of a drought, or merely a lucky dry year sandwiched between two wet ones. Either way, we’re enjoying our gift year, and preparing for whatever might follow.
Mike Madison is a farmer and the author, most recently, of “Blithe Tomato.”
July 29, 2007
Op-Ed Contributor
Sunny California
By MIKE MADISON
Winters, Calif.
THERE is no better year for farming in California than the first year of a drought. The lakes and reservoirs still hold ample water from the year before, and the farmer can go about his chores without inconvenient rains confounding his schedule. Sunlight pours down from a cloudless sky. The crops prosper. Life is good.
That’s our situation in the Sacramento Valley at the moment. We’ve had an unusually dry year, and I had to start irrigating in January — ordinarily our rainiest month — and I’ve kept at it all through the spring and summer.
Even if I were housebound and someone else was doing the irrigating, I would know from one glance at the electric bill. It takes a lot of power to move that water around, and it’s the single biggest expense on my farm. Some of my neighbors, who farm on a bigger scale than I do, have electric bills in the summer of $8,000 a month.
This year I’m converting my irrigation to solar power, installing silicon panels that turn sunlight into electricity. This will drive the pumps that lift water from underground and push it through the eight miles of plastic pipes that make up my irrigation system. Even though the panels are expensive, the return on my investment is about 12 percent, better than almost any stock or bond fund I could buy.
I’m not alone in the conversion to solar-powered irrigation. Drive the back roads around here and you will see solar panels on the roofs of barns and sheds or simply mounted on racks out in the open. If we keep at this long enough, we may reach the day when we can take down the miles of poles and wires that bring electricity from afar, and sell them for scrap.
In my neighborhood, walnuts are the preferred crop; they’re reliably profitable every year. But walnut trees are thirsty, and their irrigation has an urgency about it that will keep the walnut farmer awake at night. I didn’t want that particular worry in my life, and so I chose crops — apricots, olives, quince — that will tolerate a drought. I could skip irrigation for a year, and the trees would sulk, but they wouldn’t die.
Growing trees has a slower pace to it than farming row crops. The farmer of row crops — tomatoes, cucumbers, corn — believes that the future will arrive in about 110 days, maybe sooner. But the orchardist thinks in decades. He plants an orchard at great expense, and then waits six years for his first harvest. And it takes a decade after that to pay off his investment and start making money. To one who thinks in these terms, the year 2030 doesn’t seem far off.
As I mentioned, the first year of a drought is a gift to the farmer. Our apricot trees flowered under clear skies, the bees did their job, and in June we harvested a record crop. I sold fresh apricots, I dried apricots, and my wife put up 800 jars of apricot jam: straight apricot, apricot with lime, apricot with saffron. The other crops in the district — olives, walnuts, almonds, plums — are on the same track, heading for a record harvest.
But there is a dark side to this. If the first year of a drought is a gift, the second year is a worry, and the third year is a crisis. That crisis has a twist to it. In the third year, the lakes and reservoirs are empty, and not only is water in short supply, but so is electricity, for with empty reservoirs there is no flowing water to turn the hydroelectric turbines. We get power failures that frustrate irrigation and every other sort of industry. The farmers age a lot in those years.
Of course, the weather is undependable; it always has been, and our best guesses about it, like scientists’ predictions that a climate shift means that the West has many more years of drought ahead, are still guesses. But another observation, which 20 years ago would have seemed preposterous, is that the Pacific Gas and Electric Company is also not entirely dependable, and so we make our own arrangements for electricity.
We won’t know until next year whether this is the first year of a drought, or merely a lucky dry year sandwiched between two wet ones. Either way, we’re enjoying our gift year, and preparing for whatever might follow.
Mike Madison is a farmer and the author, most recently, of “Blithe Tomato.”
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Nice Article
Here I go again........Posting on my personal and professional Blogs, but this article is pretty great. Well written, and a good forward looking snapshot......
The Next West
What $7 gas means for the West
Higher energy prices will drive change in the sprawling West,
and its exurban development, recreation-based economies
By Courtney White
for Headwaters News
July 11, 2007
During the spike in gasoline prices last summer, our Representative, Tom Udall – a co-founder of the Peak Oil Caucus in Congress – warned us that one day we would be “wistful about $3-a-gallon-gas.”
Filling up my gas tank the other day in Santa Fe, and paying $3.49 a gallon for the privilege, I thought “Hey, I'm already wistful about $3 gas!” I just didn't think I would be so wistful so fast.
I had better get used to the feeling. All indicators suggest that gas prices are heading in only one direction ultimately: up. Perhaps way up.
If this is true, it has serious implications for the New West – implications that perhaps we should begin to consider.
The reasons for the upward trend in gas prices are complicated but boil down to the principal of supply and demand.
Globally, crude oil production rests at about 84 million barrels per day (mbd). Global demand is also about 84 mbd currently. A few years ago, however, demand was only 66 mbd; and it is projected to rise to 120 mbd by 2025.
Can production keep up with demand? Not likely. In fact, experts in the field are now suggesting that the current rate of 84 mbd may be about as much as the world can produce annually, give or take a million barrels.
In other words, oil production, in their parlance, has “plateaued.”
That's because while production of light crude oil in some parts of the world is increasing (slowly) it is declining in others (rapidly in some cases). So far, it's been a wash mostly – thus the plateau – and that's just the cheap, easy stuff. The rest of the globe's oil reserves are harder to reach or more expensive to produce – which is why we went for the easy stuff in the first place (we've burned up half the planet's known light crude oil reserves in less than 100 years, by the way).
This is why Peak Oil is so important, not because we will “run out” of oil – we won't – but because when production “peaks” and then drops (for good, by definition), even a tiny bit, it means the gap between supply and demand will expand relentlessly over time, resulting in higher prices. And if production drops by a lot, as some predict, then prices will rise substantially. Author's note: For a recent, readable analysis of Peak Oil see an article by Gail Tverberg
It's old school economics – and in the old days, high prices normally had two effects: it “crushed” demand while stimulating new production. Unfortunately, neither one appears to be happening today on a scale that matters.
In fact, despite higher prices at the pump, gasoline consumption in America has increased by 1.5 percent in the past twelve months. Then there's China, India, and other rapidly developing nations. Their demand for oil will not be “crushed” any time soon – not if they can help it.
As for increased production – well, as westerners know first hand oil companies are giving it their best shot. But none of the current exploration frenzy (and high profits) has changed a simple fact: the global “peak” of new oil discovery happened decades ago.
This is the basic reason why gas price have risen over the past six years. It's not a "refinery problem" or a "hurricane problem" or a "Middle East plot" or even an "oil company plot." It's a supply and demand problem. Look at the numbers: in 2000, oil sold for around $10-a-barrel. Today it sells for over $70. Many experts, including many in the oil industry itself, think that $80-a-barrel oil is inevitable, and soon.
Don't hold your breath for technology to ride to the rescue. An economic hydrogen-fuel cell car is a long way off. Ditto with solar. Besides, technology is only useful to those who can afford it.
Forget ethanol. It's a fraud.
So, what might $7 gas then mean for the New West, with its dependence on tourism and its embrace of urban and exurban sprawl? For that matter, what might it mean for the West as a whole – Old or New - with its extraordinary bounty of natural resources, its aridity, and its long distances?
The answer, I suspect, is this: we're going to be wistful about more than just $3 gas.
Old Wests
Change, of course, is inevitable – as are the inevitable laments.
In his memoir, A Walk Toward Oregon (2002), noted historian Alvin Josephy, Jr. quotes the famous western artist Frederic Remington in 1902 mourning the passing of the Old West and the arrival of something new: “I knew the wild riders and the vacant land were about to vanish forever,” said Remington. “I saw the living, breathing end of three American centuries of smoke and dust and sweat, and now I see quite another thing where it all took place, but does not appeal to me.”
Josephy is sympathetic – but only up to a point. “As a historian of the American West, I also knew that, before and after Remington, each generation in the West had lamented in its own way the passing of its Old West.”
The original Old West of the Native Americans was replaced by a New West of missionaries and mountain men. That West was replaced by the brave new frontier of miners and soldiers; which gave way to homesteaders, farmers, ranchers, capitalists, doctors, city folk and so on. The next New West included artists, movie stars, dudes, automobiles, picnickers, oil men, and land speculators. Next up were bureaucrats, environmentalists, backpackers, migrant workers, Land Rovers, latte and, well, more land speculators (I'm filling in for Josephy here).
His point is this: every New West eventually becomes an Old West which is replaced in turn by something new, whether we like it or not.
It happened to Josephy as well. “The Old West that I had experienced was now gone too,” he wrote, “changed by industrial and military centers, interstate highways, recreation developments, trophy ranches and urban sprawl, conformity, high-tech pop culture, television, and economically stressed cattle and lumber operations struggling to survive against global competitors.”
“Components,” he concludes, “that will become someone else's Old West.”
My guess is that this inevitable transition has already started. $7 gas simply means this transition will pick up speed. This news is neither good nor bad necessarily (though it's hard to imagine indulging in a Remington-esque lament for the passing of parts of this New West) – instead, it just is.
But what does this mean exactly? No one knows. As someone once quipped “prediction is difficult, especially about the future” (I think it was Yogi Berra). I'm not a professional geographer or demographer, but since no one in either field has yet (as far as I know) plugged the variable of $7 gas into their models of the region's future, I'll take a stab at it.
I'll start with five principal effects that $7 gas will have on the New West:
1) Don't Bet the House on Recreation Anymore.
One of the early casualties of rising gas prices will be long-distance tourism, a victim of the West's legendary wide open spaces. As gas prices rise, recreation will become increasingly localized. Why drive to northern Wyoming to camp or stay in a B&B in southern Arizona when they are plenty of good choices closer to home? It's not just driving – higher air fares (and hotel room rates) are inevitable as well. In fact, it's a safe bet to say that any tourist activity involving fossil fuel will become more costly, which means all of them. Some people will still be able to afford to play, of course, but I'm not sure it's wise to build an economy based only on the whims of the wealthy.
2) The Juggernaut of Urban & Exurban Development Will Falter.
Cheap gas begat our love affair with the automobile which begat suburban and exurban (ranchette) development which begat an intense period of economic prosperity all across the West. But what will $7 gas beget? The entire suburban/exurban experiment of the past 60 years was built on the foundation, and the promise, of cheap fossil fuel.
Think about the two-hour one-way daily commute into Los Angeles for work, or the costs associated in reaching that second home in the woods, or just driving to the grocery store. And it's not just about driving – fossil fuel permeates nearly every aspect of suburban development and maintenance. When costs rise, we may reconsider our behavior. We may have to.
3) Water Will Become More Expensive:
Mark Twain famously quipped that in the West “Whiskey is for drinkin' and water is for fightin'.” And we know why – in the arid West water is our life source. Much of western history can be explained by the availability of cheap (i.e. subsidized) water – for agriculture, for new homes, new cities, and endless growth. But much of this water is pumped or otherwise dependent on fossil fuels for its delivery. Rising energy costs mean higher water costs, which, along with water's general scarcity, mean we'll be making more changes to our behavior in the future.
4) Economic Hardship Will Spread Upward:
As the basic necessities of life – food, energy, and water – become more expensive, the economic pain will be felt among the poor and disadvantaged of us first and hardest. This fact will have all sorts of ramifications, from increased crime to social unrest possibly. A recent study by the Santa Fe-based nonprofit Local Energy showed that while the annual median income of New Mexicans has remained relatively flat for the past thirty years – at approximately $29,000 – the cost of energy has risen steadily. In that widening gap lies trouble for many of us.
5) Expect More Oil & Gas Development – Perhaps a Lot More.
Our economic (and emotional) dependence on cheap fossil fuel as a nation means you ain't seen nothing yet in terms of oil and gas development. Marginal oil and gas fields, for example, are already looking not-so-marginal to oil companies. Eventually they won't look so marginal to the public either, I'm afraid. I worry about protected areas the most. Pressure is already building in the Midwest to crack open land that was set aside for protection in the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) in order to grow more industrial corn for ethanol production. If this happens, how safe are our parks, wildernesses, and refuges?
And if these sacred places aren't safe, what does this mean for society as a whole?
The Next West
There are things we can do – now – to prepare for the inevitability of change. In fact, the sooner we do something the better.
Again at the risk of making predictions, especially about the future (maybe it was Vice President Dan Qualye who said that), I'll hazard a few best guesses about what's coming next and what we might be able to do today.
I believe that a new word is going to dominate our lives in the upcoming decades: relocalization (it's not even a word yet – at least my computer's dictionary doesn't recognize it!).
Rising energy costs mean more and more of our daily lives, from food production to where we work and play, will be increasingly localized. This won't be by choice, as it is currently, but by necessity (that economic hardship thing again).
The key is to look at relocalization as an opportunity, not just a challenge. It can be a form of rediscovery – learning about our roots, about community, neighbors, gardens, and doing with less in general. One could even look at relocalization entrepreneurially – those individuals and organizations that get into the game early, by providing re-localized goods and services, will stand a very good chance at a profitable living as the transition begins to unfold.
In my opinion, relocalization includes the following (at least):
The Development of Local Food and Energy Sources:
Working landscapes will become critical again. So will the innovations currently taking place at the nexus of agriculture and ecology (this is where I would bet my money if I were a betting man) – a nexus that requires working lands. This is not to dismiss wilderness or the needs of wildlife – I believe $7 gas means we'll have plenty of wilderness again someday, in fact – but it does mean concentrating our efforts on answering an important question: could New Mexico feed itself? Could Utah? Or Montana? And if not, why not, and what can we do to stimulate local food and energy production?
Farm and Ranch Land Will Become Important Again:
So will farmers and ranchers (see the previous point). Local food and energy, as well as recreational opportunities, require local land that is available for these uses. We'll need local people to do this work too, as well as their local knowledge.
This means figuring out how – now – to keep the current generation of farmers and ranchers on the land, as well as encourage the next generation to stay, come back, or give agriculture a try. Furthermore, we're going to regret paving over all that prime agricultural land, I suspect – which will eventually raise another important question: how do we unpave some of it?
Restoration Will Become An Important Business. Producing local food and energy from working landscapes, especially in quantity, will require healthy land as well as best management practices that work "within nature's model." Unfortunately, while the "toolbox" of progressive stewardship is now well developed, a great deal of our land is in poor condition (for a variety of reasons), requiring restoration and remediation. The good news is that this work could afford local communities a bounty of jobs at good wages, if only we would begin to value it properly.
County Governments Will Rise In Influence:
Almost by definition, relocalization means political action and policy-making will become increasing redirected to local levels. In fact, as historian Patricia Limerick said recently, there's a good chance counties could become the key unit of governance in the West in the future.
Partly that's because the federal government is proving increasingly incapable of meeting the needs of citizens at the local level, but mostly it's because there's been so much grassroots innovation across the West in recent years that need for federal involvement is no longer as necessary as it once was. However, some sort of reform of county governance (increasing the number of commissioners, for example) will likely be necessary as things begin to change.
Co-Management of Public Lands Will Evolve Into the Norm:
For the reasons cited above, pressure will build on the federal land agencies, which control one-half of the West's 425,000 square miles, to adopt co-management principles with private organizations and associations on public land. The feds not only can't do it all currently, they won't be able to handle the upcoming transition either, due to staffing and budget reductions as well as other limitations.
Partnerships with private entities, including a new generation of grazing permittees, that aim at progressive, relocalized activities on working landscapes will become the norm in the 21st century, I believe.
But I could be wrong. As I said, no one really knows what's coming next. All we can say with confidence is that $7 gas (and higher) means that things will be very different here in the West. Whether it will be for better or worse depends on your point-of-view. I think it presents tremendous opportunities – even a new frontier, if you will. Hopefully, we can keep the latte and avoid the gunfights this time.
As for me, I'm trying to get over my wistfulness by making fewer visits to the gas pump. It's hard, I'll admit, but then no one said change is ever easy.
(1) For a recent, readable analysis of Peak Oil see an article by Gail 1) For a recent Tverberg at: http://www.energybulletin.net/31332.html
The Next West
What $7 gas means for the West
Higher energy prices will drive change in the sprawling West,
and its exurban development, recreation-based economies
By Courtney White
for Headwaters News
July 11, 2007
During the spike in gasoline prices last summer, our Representative, Tom Udall – a co-founder of the Peak Oil Caucus in Congress – warned us that one day we would be “wistful about $3-a-gallon-gas.”
Filling up my gas tank the other day in Santa Fe, and paying $3.49 a gallon for the privilege, I thought “Hey, I'm already wistful about $3 gas!” I just didn't think I would be so wistful so fast.
I had better get used to the feeling. All indicators suggest that gas prices are heading in only one direction ultimately: up. Perhaps way up.
If this is true, it has serious implications for the New West – implications that perhaps we should begin to consider.
The reasons for the upward trend in gas prices are complicated but boil down to the principal of supply and demand.
Globally, crude oil production rests at about 84 million barrels per day (mbd). Global demand is also about 84 mbd currently. A few years ago, however, demand was only 66 mbd; and it is projected to rise to 120 mbd by 2025.
Can production keep up with demand? Not likely. In fact, experts in the field are now suggesting that the current rate of 84 mbd may be about as much as the world can produce annually, give or take a million barrels.
In other words, oil production, in their parlance, has “plateaued.”
That's because while production of light crude oil in some parts of the world is increasing (slowly) it is declining in others (rapidly in some cases). So far, it's been a wash mostly – thus the plateau – and that's just the cheap, easy stuff. The rest of the globe's oil reserves are harder to reach or more expensive to produce – which is why we went for the easy stuff in the first place (we've burned up half the planet's known light crude oil reserves in less than 100 years, by the way).
This is why Peak Oil is so important, not because we will “run out” of oil – we won't – but because when production “peaks” and then drops (for good, by definition), even a tiny bit, it means the gap between supply and demand will expand relentlessly over time, resulting in higher prices. And if production drops by a lot, as some predict, then prices will rise substantially. Author's note: For a recent, readable analysis of Peak Oil see an article by Gail Tverberg
It's old school economics – and in the old days, high prices normally had two effects: it “crushed” demand while stimulating new production. Unfortunately, neither one appears to be happening today on a scale that matters.
In fact, despite higher prices at the pump, gasoline consumption in America has increased by 1.5 percent in the past twelve months. Then there's China, India, and other rapidly developing nations. Their demand for oil will not be “crushed” any time soon – not if they can help it.
As for increased production – well, as westerners know first hand oil companies are giving it their best shot. But none of the current exploration frenzy (and high profits) has changed a simple fact: the global “peak” of new oil discovery happened decades ago.
This is the basic reason why gas price have risen over the past six years. It's not a "refinery problem" or a "hurricane problem" or a "Middle East plot" or even an "oil company plot." It's a supply and demand problem. Look at the numbers: in 2000, oil sold for around $10-a-barrel. Today it sells for over $70. Many experts, including many in the oil industry itself, think that $80-a-barrel oil is inevitable, and soon.
Don't hold your breath for technology to ride to the rescue. An economic hydrogen-fuel cell car is a long way off. Ditto with solar. Besides, technology is only useful to those who can afford it.
Forget ethanol. It's a fraud.
So, what might $7 gas then mean for the New West, with its dependence on tourism and its embrace of urban and exurban sprawl? For that matter, what might it mean for the West as a whole – Old or New - with its extraordinary bounty of natural resources, its aridity, and its long distances?
The answer, I suspect, is this: we're going to be wistful about more than just $3 gas.
Old Wests
Change, of course, is inevitable – as are the inevitable laments.
In his memoir, A Walk Toward Oregon (2002), noted historian Alvin Josephy, Jr. quotes the famous western artist Frederic Remington in 1902 mourning the passing of the Old West and the arrival of something new: “I knew the wild riders and the vacant land were about to vanish forever,” said Remington. “I saw the living, breathing end of three American centuries of smoke and dust and sweat, and now I see quite another thing where it all took place, but does not appeal to me.”
Josephy is sympathetic – but only up to a point. “As a historian of the American West, I also knew that, before and after Remington, each generation in the West had lamented in its own way the passing of its Old West.”
The original Old West of the Native Americans was replaced by a New West of missionaries and mountain men. That West was replaced by the brave new frontier of miners and soldiers; which gave way to homesteaders, farmers, ranchers, capitalists, doctors, city folk and so on. The next New West included artists, movie stars, dudes, automobiles, picnickers, oil men, and land speculators. Next up were bureaucrats, environmentalists, backpackers, migrant workers, Land Rovers, latte and, well, more land speculators (I'm filling in for Josephy here).
His point is this: every New West eventually becomes an Old West which is replaced in turn by something new, whether we like it or not.
It happened to Josephy as well. “The Old West that I had experienced was now gone too,” he wrote, “changed by industrial and military centers, interstate highways, recreation developments, trophy ranches and urban sprawl, conformity, high-tech pop culture, television, and economically stressed cattle and lumber operations struggling to survive against global competitors.”
“Components,” he concludes, “that will become someone else's Old West.”
My guess is that this inevitable transition has already started. $7 gas simply means this transition will pick up speed. This news is neither good nor bad necessarily (though it's hard to imagine indulging in a Remington-esque lament for the passing of parts of this New West) – instead, it just is.
But what does this mean exactly? No one knows. As someone once quipped “prediction is difficult, especially about the future” (I think it was Yogi Berra). I'm not a professional geographer or demographer, but since no one in either field has yet (as far as I know) plugged the variable of $7 gas into their models of the region's future, I'll take a stab at it.
I'll start with five principal effects that $7 gas will have on the New West:
1) Don't Bet the House on Recreation Anymore.
One of the early casualties of rising gas prices will be long-distance tourism, a victim of the West's legendary wide open spaces. As gas prices rise, recreation will become increasingly localized. Why drive to northern Wyoming to camp or stay in a B&B in southern Arizona when they are plenty of good choices closer to home? It's not just driving – higher air fares (and hotel room rates) are inevitable as well. In fact, it's a safe bet to say that any tourist activity involving fossil fuel will become more costly, which means all of them. Some people will still be able to afford to play, of course, but I'm not sure it's wise to build an economy based only on the whims of the wealthy.
2) The Juggernaut of Urban & Exurban Development Will Falter.
Cheap gas begat our love affair with the automobile which begat suburban and exurban (ranchette) development which begat an intense period of economic prosperity all across the West. But what will $7 gas beget? The entire suburban/exurban experiment of the past 60 years was built on the foundation, and the promise, of cheap fossil fuel.
Think about the two-hour one-way daily commute into Los Angeles for work, or the costs associated in reaching that second home in the woods, or just driving to the grocery store. And it's not just about driving – fossil fuel permeates nearly every aspect of suburban development and maintenance. When costs rise, we may reconsider our behavior. We may have to.
3) Water Will Become More Expensive:
Mark Twain famously quipped that in the West “Whiskey is for drinkin' and water is for fightin'.” And we know why – in the arid West water is our life source. Much of western history can be explained by the availability of cheap (i.e. subsidized) water – for agriculture, for new homes, new cities, and endless growth. But much of this water is pumped or otherwise dependent on fossil fuels for its delivery. Rising energy costs mean higher water costs, which, along with water's general scarcity, mean we'll be making more changes to our behavior in the future.
4) Economic Hardship Will Spread Upward:
As the basic necessities of life – food, energy, and water – become more expensive, the economic pain will be felt among the poor and disadvantaged of us first and hardest. This fact will have all sorts of ramifications, from increased crime to social unrest possibly. A recent study by the Santa Fe-based nonprofit Local Energy showed that while the annual median income of New Mexicans has remained relatively flat for the past thirty years – at approximately $29,000 – the cost of energy has risen steadily. In that widening gap lies trouble for many of us.
5) Expect More Oil & Gas Development – Perhaps a Lot More.
Our economic (and emotional) dependence on cheap fossil fuel as a nation means you ain't seen nothing yet in terms of oil and gas development. Marginal oil and gas fields, for example, are already looking not-so-marginal to oil companies. Eventually they won't look so marginal to the public either, I'm afraid. I worry about protected areas the most. Pressure is already building in the Midwest to crack open land that was set aside for protection in the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) in order to grow more industrial corn for ethanol production. If this happens, how safe are our parks, wildernesses, and refuges?
And if these sacred places aren't safe, what does this mean for society as a whole?
The Next West
There are things we can do – now – to prepare for the inevitability of change. In fact, the sooner we do something the better.
Again at the risk of making predictions, especially about the future (maybe it was Vice President Dan Qualye who said that), I'll hazard a few best guesses about what's coming next and what we might be able to do today.
I believe that a new word is going to dominate our lives in the upcoming decades: relocalization (it's not even a word yet – at least my computer's dictionary doesn't recognize it!).
Rising energy costs mean more and more of our daily lives, from food production to where we work and play, will be increasingly localized. This won't be by choice, as it is currently, but by necessity (that economic hardship thing again).
The key is to look at relocalization as an opportunity, not just a challenge. It can be a form of rediscovery – learning about our roots, about community, neighbors, gardens, and doing with less in general. One could even look at relocalization entrepreneurially – those individuals and organizations that get into the game early, by providing re-localized goods and services, will stand a very good chance at a profitable living as the transition begins to unfold.
In my opinion, relocalization includes the following (at least):
The Development of Local Food and Energy Sources:
Working landscapes will become critical again. So will the innovations currently taking place at the nexus of agriculture and ecology (this is where I would bet my money if I were a betting man) – a nexus that requires working lands. This is not to dismiss wilderness or the needs of wildlife – I believe $7 gas means we'll have plenty of wilderness again someday, in fact – but it does mean concentrating our efforts on answering an important question: could New Mexico feed itself? Could Utah? Or Montana? And if not, why not, and what can we do to stimulate local food and energy production?
Farm and Ranch Land Will Become Important Again:
So will farmers and ranchers (see the previous point). Local food and energy, as well as recreational opportunities, require local land that is available for these uses. We'll need local people to do this work too, as well as their local knowledge.
This means figuring out how – now – to keep the current generation of farmers and ranchers on the land, as well as encourage the next generation to stay, come back, or give agriculture a try. Furthermore, we're going to regret paving over all that prime agricultural land, I suspect – which will eventually raise another important question: how do we unpave some of it?
Restoration Will Become An Important Business. Producing local food and energy from working landscapes, especially in quantity, will require healthy land as well as best management practices that work "within nature's model." Unfortunately, while the "toolbox" of progressive stewardship is now well developed, a great deal of our land is in poor condition (for a variety of reasons), requiring restoration and remediation. The good news is that this work could afford local communities a bounty of jobs at good wages, if only we would begin to value it properly.
County Governments Will Rise In Influence:
Almost by definition, relocalization means political action and policy-making will become increasing redirected to local levels. In fact, as historian Patricia Limerick said recently, there's a good chance counties could become the key unit of governance in the West in the future.
Partly that's because the federal government is proving increasingly incapable of meeting the needs of citizens at the local level, but mostly it's because there's been so much grassroots innovation across the West in recent years that need for federal involvement is no longer as necessary as it once was. However, some sort of reform of county governance (increasing the number of commissioners, for example) will likely be necessary as things begin to change.
Co-Management of Public Lands Will Evolve Into the Norm:
For the reasons cited above, pressure will build on the federal land agencies, which control one-half of the West's 425,000 square miles, to adopt co-management principles with private organizations and associations on public land. The feds not only can't do it all currently, they won't be able to handle the upcoming transition either, due to staffing and budget reductions as well as other limitations.
Partnerships with private entities, including a new generation of grazing permittees, that aim at progressive, relocalized activities on working landscapes will become the norm in the 21st century, I believe.
But I could be wrong. As I said, no one really knows what's coming next. All we can say with confidence is that $7 gas (and higher) means that things will be very different here in the West. Whether it will be for better or worse depends on your point-of-view. I think it presents tremendous opportunities – even a new frontier, if you will. Hopefully, we can keep the latte and avoid the gunfights this time.
As for me, I'm trying to get over my wistfulness by making fewer visits to the gas pump. It's hard, I'll admit, but then no one said change is ever easy.
(1) For a recent, readable analysis of Peak Oil see an article by Gail 1) For a recent Tverberg at: http://www.energybulletin.net/31332.html
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Monday, July 02, 2007
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Loook out.
I think I'm about to start video Blogging...My phone is almost fried, 4 years old and so it's time to get a new one. I'm hoping I can get the scratch for an Iphone, in which case I'll be video blogging! YaaaY! Ok, so this isn't the greatest first video, but it's a start..........
Thursday, May 17, 2007
April and May.........
Well.........we returned home and it's been heads down ever since. I've been working hard to keep organized so when I'm behind now, it's all very organized and overwhelming........So many timelines to manage, each with their own meter. Copper West is rocking, Oregon Growers and Shippers......rocking. Celilo, pretty good, but very fulfilling to do what we are doing, and Sixth Street..Rocking, FCA.......Rocking..
We applied for the Governor's sustainability award, and lost....Bummer. It was the first time I got to roll out everything we do in a comprehensive manner, and it played pretty well. Our arguments are growing and being validated daily.
I'm surprised that I don't write or talk about it more, since it's almost everything we do.
Lise Yasui, one of Masuo's Grand Children came to town, and she brought along the last three remaining children of Masuo. It was a real Honor to meet Yuki and Shidzuyo and to see Homer again. Lise hosted a film that she did regarding Masuo. It was very powerful.
We had Dinner together....
And Lise hosted a panel of the Children with respect to the War Years.
It amazes me that we can have such powerful events in our little town....
Ben's been getting some pretty awesome press recently too. Mentions in Sports Illustrated, Sunset, and as one of the celebrated chefs in the Travel Oregon and Oregon Bounty Campaigns. Pretty awesome.
Well, here we go. Summer. The Kids are doing great, the home is looking great, everything is moving along..........
We applied for the Governor's sustainability award, and lost....Bummer. It was the first time I got to roll out everything we do in a comprehensive manner, and it played pretty well. Our arguments are growing and being validated daily.
I'm surprised that I don't write or talk about it more, since it's almost everything we do.
Lise Yasui, one of Masuo's Grand Children came to town, and she brought along the last three remaining children of Masuo. It was a real Honor to meet Yuki and Shidzuyo and to see Homer again. Lise hosted a film that she did regarding Masuo. It was very powerful.
We had Dinner together....
And Lise hosted a panel of the Children with respect to the War Years.
It amazes me that we can have such powerful events in our little town....
Ben's been getting some pretty awesome press recently too. Mentions in Sports Illustrated, Sunset, and as one of the celebrated chefs in the Travel Oregon and Oregon Bounty Campaigns. Pretty awesome.
Well, here we go. Summer. The Kids are doing great, the home is looking great, everything is moving along..........
Saturday, April 21, 2007
SB 838.....Almost there.
Had the pleasure of being able to go to Salem this week and testify in support of Oregon's new Renewables Legistlation. I got to read the Association of Oregon Counties Support Letter, and toss in a bit of Hood River as well.
I admit it, I kind of dug it.
On the way back, Saw yet another set of blades on the Freeway.......
I admit it, I kind of dug it.
On the way back, Saw yet another set of blades on the Freeway.......
Friday, April 20, 2007
The Funeral. The Wedding.
The Funeral
The day of my Mother's funeral came. Kind of couldn't get around it. I woke up and that was the thought in my head.
Rites of passage are like that to me. There's a sense of inevitability. Here it goes. Deep sigh. I brought Jan and Julia and Nathaniel back for the funeral, we stayed at Mele's. We could only get tickets that kept us in Hawaii for a week (I know, unintended, fun side benefit)
Tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Dress the kids, get the this's and thats, carpool. George Kahumoku Came to play music, and was with us. He arrived the evening before bearing Poke' and sashimi, and within about five minutes had a (then, third) meal out for me, and the guitar ready to go. World Class, Grammy Award Winner practices his Slack Key Guitar while I pig out on Raw fish at 11:30 the night before my Mother's funeral. Jet-lagged, Sated.
Oddly, perfect.
Kids were ready to go, and off we went to the last church service my Mother would ever have. Her service was at the church where she and Pop were married, and where she, for a long time, went to church every morning.
The Hearse was waiting for us. We put our gloves on and carried her into the church, for her viewing. The lid came off. It was very powerful. So much happened in the next couple of hours it was tough to process it all. I held Nathaniel and explained alot to him. He took it all in pretty well.
Emma was fabulous. Cold to the touch, which was slightly alarming, but I gave her a kiss and whispered to her, just like I did when she was alive. She looked better than she had in a long time, like we were about to go out for some Dim-Sum or something.
People poured in. I never took a photo of the service, but it was full, literally and physically. I spoke, I can't remember what I said, Moana sang, and generally we tried to keep it together. It wasn't tough, but we were so seeped in the moment, so inside of what was going on, so engrossed.
The Service ended, and we have a nice lunch at the Country Club. I laugh because when things were not so good for Emma and Harry, I had to cancel the Country Club membership, all over $90.00 a month. I couldn't afford it, they CERTAINLY couldn't afford it then, but it sure looked like a good move then, when $90.00 a month was the difference between the rent or not.....all over, and water under the bridge now.
Boy was that club beautiful.
Later we went to the Valley of the Temples for the final ceremony. I was exhausted.
Manu, her final chant.
We carried Emma up to her grave next to her sister Aima. Some words, some signing. Nathaniel hung out with my Brother in Law Michael. So comfortable with his Uncle and Aunts.
And then it was over.
I remember her as I last saw her, missal in hand, leis, a few white roses, perfect hair and looking so relaxed. The lid of the Coffin was so finite when we nailed it in place. I saw the slight clearance and I imagined, and Imagine now, how she looked as the last person to see her would imagine her in the casket. Quiet, tight. Simple. For a long, long time.
We spent the next bunch of days in Hawaii. Ate some food..........
Went to the beach.......
Dinner with everyone..........
Had Easter.......
The Wedding
We came home for one day, then went to Jay's wedding (my nephew) We went to Scottsdale, and pretty much dove right in.......Jay and Caroline's wedding was off the hook!
We went to Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright's Winter camp. A pilgrimage to be sure. Pretty amazing place......
We went to the Pacheco manor. Amazing home, amazing party.
The wedding was incredible! Complete with Firewords at the Silverleaf Country Club, a giant tent with room for 200.
Harry Danced,
Molly and Mihana and Moana were in shock.......
And it was a very, very wonderful time!
From one end of the spectrum to the other this month........
The day of my Mother's funeral came. Kind of couldn't get around it. I woke up and that was the thought in my head.
Rites of passage are like that to me. There's a sense of inevitability. Here it goes. Deep sigh. I brought Jan and Julia and Nathaniel back for the funeral, we stayed at Mele's. We could only get tickets that kept us in Hawaii for a week (I know, unintended, fun side benefit)
Tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Dress the kids, get the this's and thats, carpool. George Kahumoku Came to play music, and was with us. He arrived the evening before bearing Poke' and sashimi, and within about five minutes had a (then, third) meal out for me, and the guitar ready to go. World Class, Grammy Award Winner practices his Slack Key Guitar while I pig out on Raw fish at 11:30 the night before my Mother's funeral. Jet-lagged, Sated.
Oddly, perfect.
Kids were ready to go, and off we went to the last church service my Mother would ever have. Her service was at the church where she and Pop were married, and where she, for a long time, went to church every morning.
The Hearse was waiting for us. We put our gloves on and carried her into the church, for her viewing. The lid came off. It was very powerful. So much happened in the next couple of hours it was tough to process it all. I held Nathaniel and explained alot to him. He took it all in pretty well.
Emma was fabulous. Cold to the touch, which was slightly alarming, but I gave her a kiss and whispered to her, just like I did when she was alive. She looked better than she had in a long time, like we were about to go out for some Dim-Sum or something.
People poured in. I never took a photo of the service, but it was full, literally and physically. I spoke, I can't remember what I said, Moana sang, and generally we tried to keep it together. It wasn't tough, but we were so seeped in the moment, so inside of what was going on, so engrossed.
The Service ended, and we have a nice lunch at the Country Club. I laugh because when things were not so good for Emma and Harry, I had to cancel the Country Club membership, all over $90.00 a month. I couldn't afford it, they CERTAINLY couldn't afford it then, but it sure looked like a good move then, when $90.00 a month was the difference between the rent or not.....all over, and water under the bridge now.
Boy was that club beautiful.
Later we went to the Valley of the Temples for the final ceremony. I was exhausted.
Manu, her final chant.
We carried Emma up to her grave next to her sister Aima. Some words, some signing. Nathaniel hung out with my Brother in Law Michael. So comfortable with his Uncle and Aunts.
And then it was over.
I remember her as I last saw her, missal in hand, leis, a few white roses, perfect hair and looking so relaxed. The lid of the Coffin was so finite when we nailed it in place. I saw the slight clearance and I imagined, and Imagine now, how she looked as the last person to see her would imagine her in the casket. Quiet, tight. Simple. For a long, long time.
We spent the next bunch of days in Hawaii. Ate some food..........
Went to the beach.......
Dinner with everyone..........
Had Easter.......
The Wedding
We came home for one day, then went to Jay's wedding (my nephew) We went to Scottsdale, and pretty much dove right in.......Jay and Caroline's wedding was off the hook!
We went to Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright's Winter camp. A pilgrimage to be sure. Pretty amazing place......
We went to the Pacheco manor. Amazing home, amazing party.
The wedding was incredible! Complete with Firewords at the Silverleaf Country Club, a giant tent with room for 200.
Harry Danced,
Molly and Mihana and Moana were in shock.......
And it was a very, very wonderful time!
From one end of the spectrum to the other this month........
My Mom and I
Lots to catch up on.....as always. Before I get into that, I'd like to tell you about my son who is interviewing me about my mom.
"what else did you and your mom do?"
"well, we talked alot and hung out......."
"hmmm........I can't draw that daddy."
"Ok....Well, we hung out outside a lot......Like at the beach"
(Nathaniel Draws a pune'e, with my mom sitting on it, under an umbrella.)
"What Else?"
"The Beach, remember?"
(Nathaniel draws a scene of me at the beach, next to my mother on the Pune'e)
"We went to the Pool sometimes, and she would throw coins into the water, and I'd swim down to get them"
(Nathaniel draws a pool, with coin at the bottom, and a figure of me swimming in it)
"What Else did you do?"
"We played cards for M and M's like you and I just did"
(Nathaniel draws a picture of me and my mom playing cards)
"What about the M & M's?"
(Nathaniel draws a small tray of M & &'s on the table)
"what else?"
"We went to church a lot...."
"Is that the big building with the bell on top?"
"yes"
"I don't know what that looks like inside daddy"
"Draw the outside then. Everyone knows that my mom will be inside.."
(Nathaniel draws a picture of the church)
"What Else did you and your mom do?"
"She took me to the supermarket and we went shopping"
(Nathaniel Draws a picture of my Mom with me inside the shopping cart)
"and....?"
"she drove me to school..."
(Picture of a car.....)
"I gave it stripes. You can have a striped car..."
"OK"
"and she would read books to me.."
"and we would walk and hold hands...."
(Nathaniel Draws Mom and I walking and holding hands, and Her, reading a book to me)
"I'm running out of space dad..."
"I know. We could do another page you know...."
"one last one for this page ok?"
"OK"
"we ate Dinner together alot..."
(Nathaniel draws a dinner table with Plates and hot dogs and drinks)
"Daddy?"
"yes?"
"I've got to go pee-pee now"
"Ok............"
Cormac Mccarthy Won the pulitzer this week for the road. One of the saddest and most beautiful books I've ever read. More so given the last few Months........
Nathaniel Returns.
"So...Daddy. What kind of thing did you have in your house?"
"we had the clock..."
(Nathaniel draws the clock)
"Oh......I get it now, it's that noise, the tick tock, that you like?"
"yep"
"I like it too"
"Daddy?"
"Can I stay up until Mom comes home?"
"Depends"
"Can we do something else? Like a puzzle or read a book or something"
"Sure"
"Let's talk about Star Trek"
"You are your mother's son, did you know that?"
"I know daddy."
"what else did you and your mom do?"
"well, we talked alot and hung out......."
"hmmm........I can't draw that daddy."
"Ok....Well, we hung out outside a lot......Like at the beach"
(Nathaniel Draws a pune'e, with my mom sitting on it, under an umbrella.)
"What Else?"
"The Beach, remember?"
(Nathaniel draws a scene of me at the beach, next to my mother on the Pune'e)
"We went to the Pool sometimes, and she would throw coins into the water, and I'd swim down to get them"
(Nathaniel draws a pool, with coin at the bottom, and a figure of me swimming in it)
"What Else did you do?"
"We played cards for M and M's like you and I just did"
(Nathaniel draws a picture of me and my mom playing cards)
"What about the M & M's?"
(Nathaniel draws a small tray of M & &'s on the table)
"what else?"
"We went to church a lot...."
"Is that the big building with the bell on top?"
"yes"
"I don't know what that looks like inside daddy"
"Draw the outside then. Everyone knows that my mom will be inside.."
(Nathaniel draws a picture of the church)
"What Else did you and your mom do?"
"She took me to the supermarket and we went shopping"
(Nathaniel Draws a picture of my Mom with me inside the shopping cart)
"and....?"
"she drove me to school..."
(Picture of a car.....)
"I gave it stripes. You can have a striped car..."
"OK"
"and she would read books to me.."
"and we would walk and hold hands...."
(Nathaniel Draws Mom and I walking and holding hands, and Her, reading a book to me)
"I'm running out of space dad..."
"I know. We could do another page you know...."
"one last one for this page ok?"
"OK"
"we ate Dinner together alot..."
(Nathaniel draws a dinner table with Plates and hot dogs and drinks)
"Daddy?"
"yes?"
"I've got to go pee-pee now"
"Ok............"
Cormac Mccarthy Won the pulitzer this week for the road. One of the saddest and most beautiful books I've ever read. More so given the last few Months........
Nathaniel Returns.
"So...Daddy. What kind of thing did you have in your house?"
"we had the clock..."
(Nathaniel draws the clock)
"Oh......I get it now, it's that noise, the tick tock, that you like?"
"yep"
"I like it too"
"Daddy?"
"Can I stay up until Mom comes home?"
"Depends"
"Can we do something else? Like a puzzle or read a book or something"
"Sure"
"Let's talk about Star Trek"
"You are your mother's son, did you know that?"
"I know daddy."
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Emma Akamu Aluli
....We placed the pikake lei on mom when Luana and the sisters thought it was getting serious. Luana called me to tell me it was time.
"send me a picture" I said. A few hours later it arrived on my phone.
Emma had come home to Aikahi, site of the largest concentration of Hawaiian remains in all the islands, to die. I returned earlier that weekend, Sunday to get her home from the Hospital and into hospice at Maile's house. She had hung in there, and we actually had a good talk or two, and when I left on Wednesday, I knew it was the end of the road, but I was happy she was at Maile's and the family was there.
But this was Friday afternoon, and when I opened the photo, I couldn't help but think that in a lifetime if leis, pikake almost every weekend, ginger during the week, that this would be her last one. She would be gone before the fragrance faded.
Yuklin came up with the idea to lend us her computer so I could Skype into the house and hear what was going in. I didn't realize that she had a video camera in her laptop, but once she turned it on, It was amazing. I could sit and see everything, hear everything on Skype.
I got my speakers from work which only added to the effect. The wind, the rain, the sound of the doves in the background, Kailua. Turned up on the speakers and you couldn't tell the difference from being there.
I stayed up that entire Friday night, downstairs on the couch, listening to the sounds and watching the feed. Jan came down and we both had a restless night, but oddly, a comforting one. Everyone was there, talking, laughing crying singing. It was endless.
First thing Saturday, I went a got a camera, and then everyone could see us too. I didn't want to leave the camera, so I thought of things to do while I listened to everyone talking. Close conversations, and the sound of ping pong in the back room. The Rain, the weed whackers, the garbage truck. Just like I was there. From the next room with the volume turned up, you couldn't tell the difference.
We had a couple of close calls, but by Sunday night, it looked like things were wrapping up. I stayed online until about 11:00 their time but finall went to bed. Any moment now.
Monday dawned and I went to work, only to get a phone call from Manu about 10:00 the this was it. I set up at the office and Skyped in. After awhile I realized tha tLaurie was there, and I thought it was to hold mom's hand but later I realized that she was taking mom's pulse. Things progressed quickly from there.
Mom passed away at about 11:30 our time, with everyone around her, and the sounds of Kailua slipping through the jalouse windows. THey prepared her for the hearse to arrive, and the mood leavened for a moment. everyone came by to give her a last kiss.
After a brief consultation, she was taken to the hearse by the family. the last thing I heard was Manu sobbing and crying "auwe, auwe"
And then my field of vision no longer had my mother in it. She's gone.
I will miss my mother. I'm certain I'll toast her with a glass of J & B or Cutty Sark here before too long......
"send me a picture" I said. A few hours later it arrived on my phone.
Emma had come home to Aikahi, site of the largest concentration of Hawaiian remains in all the islands, to die. I returned earlier that weekend, Sunday to get her home from the Hospital and into hospice at Maile's house. She had hung in there, and we actually had a good talk or two, and when I left on Wednesday, I knew it was the end of the road, but I was happy she was at Maile's and the family was there.
But this was Friday afternoon, and when I opened the photo, I couldn't help but think that in a lifetime if leis, pikake almost every weekend, ginger during the week, that this would be her last one. She would be gone before the fragrance faded.
Yuklin came up with the idea to lend us her computer so I could Skype into the house and hear what was going in. I didn't realize that she had a video camera in her laptop, but once she turned it on, It was amazing. I could sit and see everything, hear everything on Skype.
I got my speakers from work which only added to the effect. The wind, the rain, the sound of the doves in the background, Kailua. Turned up on the speakers and you couldn't tell the difference from being there.
I stayed up that entire Friday night, downstairs on the couch, listening to the sounds and watching the feed. Jan came down and we both had a restless night, but oddly, a comforting one. Everyone was there, talking, laughing crying singing. It was endless.
First thing Saturday, I went a got a camera, and then everyone could see us too. I didn't want to leave the camera, so I thought of things to do while I listened to everyone talking. Close conversations, and the sound of ping pong in the back room. The Rain, the weed whackers, the garbage truck. Just like I was there. From the next room with the volume turned up, you couldn't tell the difference.
We had a couple of close calls, but by Sunday night, it looked like things were wrapping up. I stayed online until about 11:00 their time but finall went to bed. Any moment now.
Monday dawned and I went to work, only to get a phone call from Manu about 10:00 the this was it. I set up at the office and Skyped in. After awhile I realized tha tLaurie was there, and I thought it was to hold mom's hand but later I realized that she was taking mom's pulse. Things progressed quickly from there.
Mom passed away at about 11:30 our time, with everyone around her, and the sounds of Kailua slipping through the jalouse windows. THey prepared her for the hearse to arrive, and the mood leavened for a moment. everyone came by to give her a last kiss.
After a brief consultation, she was taken to the hearse by the family. the last thing I heard was Manu sobbing and crying "auwe, auwe"
And then my field of vision no longer had my mother in it. She's gone.
I will miss my mother. I'm certain I'll toast her with a glass of J & B or Cutty Sark here before too long......
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Jake Shimabukuro, Eastern Oregon..........
Busy week. Sunday we had a great "day of remembrance" surrounding the Japanese Internments of World War Two. I got to sit in the front row with the Survivors. Pretty moving.
Jake Shimabukuro put on an amazing show!
Later that week, I went out to Eastern Oregon to talk to the Harney County Court. Lots of activity out there, and the Court was very receptive to the ideas of Community Renewables. If I only had more time, we'd have every county in the state, but alas...........Harney county was a long loong day......
On the way out there, we had breakfast with a set of fairly crusty locals, and they gave us some great shortcuts, saved us about 45 minutes each way
Dealing with alot of Local issues right now. Lots of people angry at my support of affordable housing in Hood River..........Seems every spring there's something or another!
Jake Shimabukuro put on an amazing show!
Later that week, I went out to Eastern Oregon to talk to the Harney County Court. Lots of activity out there, and the Court was very receptive to the ideas of Community Renewables. If I only had more time, we'd have every county in the state, but alas...........Harney county was a long loong day......
On the way out there, we had breakfast with a set of fairly crusty locals, and they gave us some great shortcuts, saved us about 45 minutes each way
Dealing with alot of Local issues right now. Lots of people angry at my support of affordable housing in Hood River..........Seems every spring there's something or another!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Hawaii-2007...........
Mom's not doing so well.........We went to Hawaii for two weeks this time, and while relaxing.........It was melancholy.
Visited Mom (Nathaniel playing hide and seek with her. Both the kids were awesome.....)
Relaxed on the grass at Kimo and Ruth's
Punahou Carnival (Julia attacking the malasada bag)
The Aquarium (Double thumbs up from Nathaniel, as he buys a present for Julia...)
Then we came home. As if Returning to Oregon wasn't surreal enough....This was in the gas station.
So nice! Spring time is here, in a very, very big way............I'm getting clobbered, but the vacation time is showing me how nice it is to move slower.....
Visited Mom (Nathaniel playing hide and seek with her. Both the kids were awesome.....)
Relaxed on the grass at Kimo and Ruth's
Punahou Carnival (Julia attacking the malasada bag)
The Aquarium (Double thumbs up from Nathaniel, as he buys a present for Julia...)
Then we came home. As if Returning to Oregon wasn't surreal enough....This was in the gas station.
So nice! Spring time is here, in a very, very big way............I'm getting clobbered, but the vacation time is showing me how nice it is to move slower.....
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