HOSED

I just saw a developer’s honest presentation, the other day, that showed 10,000 new units planned for the Park City Area and another 10,000 in Summit County and 10,000 in Wasatch County in the next Umpteenth years.  That’s 100,000 people and 200,000 new vehicle trips per day.  We are Hosed, I thought.  Then I read a climate review that showed India and China building dozens of coal-burning power plants in the near future to keep up with their growth and the rise in their standard of living. Hosed again.  Then I saw compounding figures on the concentration of wealth and couldn’t believe it could get worse.  Hose-a-menudo.  Finally, I saw the number of people on this planet increasing exponentially to a certain point, before mysteriously flattening out in a few decades.  The flattening was more concerning than the predictable growth since it usually represents a big change or something really bad.  What causes that; war, genocide, plague, asteroids, wealth, education or restraint?   Still, Hose-o-Rama.

So, what is the answer, what are we going to do to solve these unsolvable problems.  We are the generation that is responsible for this, the worst generation, who knew it was happening and refused to do anything about it, because it was expensive or inconvenient.  What are we handing to the next generation.  It seems worse than the depression and war that our grandparents handed down to our parents, the political unrest and moral bankruptcy our parents handed to us or the loss of trust and truth and interpersonal relations we have handed to our kids.  But I guess every generation feels that they are handing down a shit-show or are inheriting one from the generation before.  Every generation has something to apologize for.  One hundred years ago the biggest worry was that the streets would be covered with twelve feet of literal horse shit by now, but that didn’t happen.  So what’s the big deal, the kids will figure it out so don’t fret the hypotheticals.  The kids are all right. 

But that does not ring true this time.  We have science and sociology, economics and demographics pointing in the same direction.  Hose-a-la-mode.  We are too old to solve these issues so the best we can do is educate and encourage our leaders and the next generation to do the right thing and make the best choices, no matter how hard they seem.  Change the system to persuade them to do more long-term planning with horizons longer than 2-4-6-8 years and to think about sustainability and resilience and existentialism as more than mere buzz words.  Humans don’t solve anything until we are in catastrophe mode and then it is too late, like climate, Social Security, traffic or environment. How do we change human nature to be more proactive by rewarding it.  Throw a larger and longer economic net and show everyone the folly of our short-sighted ways.  Live for the future, not the past, and for the next generation. 

It will take a combination of regulated capitalism and socialism, government and democracy to ensure everyone and everything is considered and not dominated by an unlevel playing field or vested interests.  I’m afraid that human nature is not to be trusted to prevail objectively and that market forces alone will not provide balance and fairness.  We will have to rise above ourselves and our base nature to survive, thrive and flourish.  We have to quickly evolve away from our harmful individual instincts to include an enlightened institutional intuition for the survival of all.  This is possible since evolution usually happens as a series of necessary bursts instead of a long slow plodding trend line.  Survival of all species will be incumbent on revolutionary change and conscious evolution.  The odds are long, but the time is short.  Otherwise, we are Dinosaurs, and we are likewise, Hosed. 

 

Matthew Lindon

Waterandwhatever.blogspot.com

IRONY

Isn’t it ironic that; with 60% of the homes in Park City second homes and mostly vacant, we have a housing issue.  That; 10,000 people from PC travel down to SLC to work and 10,000 people from SLC travel up to PC to work each day so we have a traffic issue.  That; with these traffic issues we are planning for 30,000 more units in Summit and Wasatch counties each with no discernable plans for infrastructure improvements or funding or slowing growth.  That’s 100,000 people and 200,000 new vehicle trips a day.  I was aghast that they wanted water for 500,000 people in St George, but they are going to need that up here before they are thru.  That; in the second driest state in the Country where we have the cheapest water and the highest per capita usage.  It’s that Irony thing, sir.  It’s personal, prevalent and ubiquitous.

That; we pay our laborers $8, our teachers $25, our Lawyers $500 and our Real Estate Agents $1000 an hour.  That; 20% of the people control 80% of the wealth in this country.  That; we spend a trillion dollars a year to prevent war and nothing to promote peace.  That; we constitute 5% of the world’s population but account for 25% of consumption, waste and pollution.  That; the moon (and most women) cycle around the earth 13 times a year, almost exactly every 4 weeks, but we still have 12 uneven months.  That; in the greatest age of communication, we are all looking down at our phones and not at each other. I could go on. We all could go on.  It’s a little too ironic.  Don’t you think.

But what does That mean.  Things happen that are silly, random, quizzical, amusing, curious, coincidental, contradictory, accidental, fortuitous, paradoxical, unpredictable and don’t make sense.  What’s up with that.  But we have a hand in it at times and some control.  Does that mean we like it that way or are predisposed for that kind of order?  We all love an ironic twist in a story or a song lyric, a chord that does not fit directly with the others, the white negative space on a painted canvas, or the intentional flaw on a woven Navajo blanket.  It upsets our expectations for order, rhythm, consistency and predictability. Is irony human nature, to zig when they zag, to not give them what they want. To question consistency, ceremony and authority?  Or is it evolutionary, for us to reject the status quo and the numbers and swim against the currents of society’s slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  Is it free market-based economics of supply and demand or some derivative of a natural function solved for zero to maximize and minimize. 

It’s That Irony thing, sir.  It’s personal, prevalent and ubiquitous.  We either look at it and say, ‘Huh’, or’ that’s the way it is’, and we take some responsibility for it in our own human nature, science, sociology, mathematics or karma and try to explain it.  Like most things it all goes to motive.  So ask yourself ‘why are things like that and who does it benefit, fairly or unfairly’.  If it does not benefit all, or at least most, it should be questioned, justified, changed or repaired. 

Living wages should be paid for all employees or affordable housing for workers should be provided by major employers (or perhaps with caretaker unit ncentive in empty homes) and more residents here should be encouraged to work at home.  Maybe we should cut our own lawns, paint our own houses and clean our own bathrooms.  Development should pay its own way, including infrastructure, resources and services.  No jumping on the band wagon of infrastructure that already exists.  Zoning should be often downgraded and never upgraded.  Build what you bought.  Water should be priced for its worth so it will be used more wisely.  Conservation should be encouraged on all fronts. 

People should be paid for the value they add to society, the risks they take and the difficulty of their education, not randomly in a race to the bottom or a slice off the top.  There should be a department of Peace to focus on and foster the relationships we need to get along with everyone consciously and conspicuously.   There should be taxes on consumption and waste and not on income and wealth.  We should develop global funding for global climate solutions.  The calendar should be repaired to coincide with our celestial and human rhythms.   Believe none of what you read and half of what you see.  Lastly; blow up your TV, throw away your iPhone, try to find Jesus, on your own. 

There that was easy, if I were king, but I’m not.  I can only encourage people to recognize the irony in their lives and the world and take a moment to address it and if necessary, change it.  If not, let the mystery be and take it as itcom comes.  Revel in it.  Embrace it.  Enjoy it.  Explain it.  Own it.  Live with it.

 

Matthew Lindon

Waterandwhatever.blogspot.com

LET'S KEEP PARK CITY COOL

I rode by a guy the other day and like usual, I said ‘Hi’.  He ignored me and looked away.  Weird.  Maybe he is just tuned out or in a bad mood.  Later I rode by several folks with the same reaction and response.  That's not cool.  It seems like less people are being friendly these days, or are too preoccupied, to say ‘Hello’.  Don’t they know it is kind of a Park City custom to say ‘Hola, Howdy or Hey’, wave, nod or at least smile?  Do you know it takes more muscles to frown than to smile and it must be very hard to not say hello and turn away.  Smiling is kind of automatic human nature, bonding and politeness.  You never know who you will see coming back the other way and who might need help.  It could be you.  It could be them and you would help, or not.

Motorcycle riders all give each other the ultra-cool, low left-hand salute, even Harleys.  Drivers on bad dirt roads often give the two-finger salute off the steering wheel, never one finger, with a sense of solidarity and camaraderie for their shared experience.    Charlie Sturgis and Mountain Trails invented his 10 seconds of trail courtesy for saying ‘Aloha, Caio, Lo or Yo’ and my PC Leadership Class 17 invented our Civility Bells on our bikes to warn and inform others of our presence.  And then of course there was the ‘Say Hey’ Kid – Willie Mays, who started it all.  It is only common sense, common practice and common courtesy. 

So, what is it with these sour folks?  Are they new and don’t know the tradition?  We used to say ‘Hy’ to everyone on Main Street until there got to be too many of them and all we said was ‘Hi, Hy, High,’.   Now the trails are more crowded but not enough to feel dour or down.  Is it the young people who were not taught this or are so introspective and distracted with their lives, music, podcasts and phones to look up and see the trees, smell the roses and say ‘Hello’?  Hang up and ride.  Is it the old people that are so shaky and one dimensional that they can’t look up and say ‘Hey’ without crashing?  Slow down and relax. Is it the e-bikers that are shunned from an un-inclusive society because of their mechanical advantage and reluctance to do work?  Get over it.  Is it snobby trail hoarding locals that don’t want to acknowledge any one for not being from PC?  Get over your selves.  Is it people in matching Lycra kits and fancy bikes looking down on the rest of us on our K-Mart bikes, sneakers and Grateful Dead T shirts?  Uncool.

Perhaps it is just a matter of edification and acknowledgement that we are not out there alone, for better or for worse.  We all need to recognize each other, our commonality and community.  Celebrate the sharing of our great resources and good fortune to be out-and-about.  Next time you are out hiking or biking or skiing, say ‘Hy’ to others, and if they do not respond, say Bye.  Lets keep Park City cool.

And if you see me today with an illegal smile.

It don’t cost very much but it lasts a long while.

Won't you please tell the man we didn’t hurt anyone.

We’re just trying to have us some fun.  

John Prine

 

Matthew Lindon

Waterandwhatever.blogspot.com

Ol’ Blue Eyes

I didn’t notice it until I was 40 or so, but my dad had the bluest eyes I had ever seen.  My folks were passing through the local airport, on their way to my sisters, and I went to join them for lunch on their layover, back when you could do that kind of thing.  Dad had had some sort of eye treatment or operation and was not wearing his glasses for once.  He had been wearing glasses nonstop for 60 years, since sometime between the depression and the war, when they discovered he couldn’t see the black board and he was hopelessly behind in his studies.  

He came out of the jet way and I did not recognize him at first, but I remember thinking, ‘man that guy has blue eyes’.   Then he stuck out his hand to shake, before he got used to hugging, and said as he always did ‘hello Matthew’. I was so surprised.  You think you know a guy….

 A few years later dad was on his deathbed gently succumbing to COPD and lung cancer at a Hospice Care unit near my sister’s home.  As his time drew near and we were all gathered around his bed, he sat up out of morphine stupor, opened his bright, baby blue eyes and looked around the room and at all of us one more time.  Then he fell back into his bed and slowly passed away, allowing, relenting, and permitting death to take him.  His pulse in my hand receding from a frantic 200 beats a minute to nothing at all, in a matter of minutes.  I remember thinking again, ‘man that guy has blue eyes’.

 They were kind eyes, humorous eyes, serious eyes, encouraging eyes.  Empathetic eyes that could see the adult in every child and the child in every adult.  Knowing eyes that saw the value of hard work and honesty, eyes that showed respect for everyone and saw that everyone had their own form of intelligence and integrity, perspective and point of view.  Stern, strict eyes that help you know when you are wrong, that build discipline and character.  Gritty eyes that looked up to the heavens for inspiration and down at the ground with perspiration, head down in determination, taking each task one step at a time, doing what he had to do to get it done.  Loyal eyes that stuck with you, thru thick and thin, like the family and friends and the sports teams he adored.  Irish eyes, between a smile and a tear, confidence and fear.

 Tired eyes that surrendered in his last years to a philosophy of ‘whatever’ and ‘what are you going to do’ when he lost interest in the politics and the pettiness of the world.  Resolved eyes that teared up and winked at me the last time I saw him while he gave me the thumbs up, saying that he was OK, and to my relief, that I was OK.  Non-judgmental eyes of acceptance and approval, respect and recognition, strength, and surrender.  The clear blue eyes of a simple, good man and my everyday hero.

 

I have seen it in your eyes

You’ve got those bright eyed baby blues.

But there is one thing more,

I was hoping you might do.

Take your hand and lead me,

To the hole in the garden wall,

And pull me thru.       JB