The Wild West

The Wild West is a lot tamer than it used to be. Sure, there are more and more people running around these days, (actually they’re ATVing around) but there’s more to it than that. The amount of land in this country that is truly wild is disappearing faster than a hometown preacher in a whorehouse raid. I believe three major factors have come together in the last few decades to kill off the legendary essence of the Wild West.

First and foremost are the Gas & Oil companies. They come in like the wolf dressed as Grandma, all flattery and white teeth. They frack up the earth while the politicians drink the thick black kool-aid and pat themselves on the back for bringing labor-to-middle management jobs to town. And by the time we realize that our air and water are too contaminated for the birds, fish and wildlife (not to mention our children) all that’s left is an empty nightgown beside the bed.

Second to blame (and first to profit Gas & Oil) is the national marketing of The Great Outdoors. If I had a dollar for every Subaru ad with an attractive couple watching the sunset in the middle of nowhere… well, we’d all have brand new Subarus. When I was a kid it was still kind of a novelty to pack up the station wagon and head into the hills with a sleeping bag and a six-pack. Sure, your off-beat brother-in-law did it every chance he got, but civilized people stayed home and tried not to spill their third martini on the wall-to-wall carpeting. Then, sometime in the late 80s to early 90s hard wood flooring made a comeback, and more and more of us started going out to explore nature from the climate controlled safety of our gas-guzzling SUVs.

And lastly, in the trifecta of death for the Wild West, we have our local billionaires who want to realize their childhood dreams of being a cowboy. Whenever I hear the words ‘land management’ I throw up a little in my mouth. Why would raw land need human beings to manage it? Is it just me or is our hubris at an all-time high? Do we seriously think we can do a better job of maintaining natural habitat than the system that is already in place? (That’s our planet’s eco-system, for all you monotheists.) And when did rich people turn 180 degrees from the Roosevelt/Rockefeller school of thought? Upper class benevolence has gone the way of the dodo, which is why it’s more important than ever to democratically collaborate on public land policy rather than entrust the land to a few rich guys.

I mean, we are talking about men who would sue their own brother in a court of law. It’s not that I can’t imagine two brothers getting into a heated argument. I come from a family that spans the spectrums; from politics to party going tips, we rarely agree on anything. But to take it to the courts? That’s a level of self-importance that makes my family look like the tv show The Waltons. And trust me, we’re not. For one thing, we’re a ranching family, totally different than farming.

My grandparents ranched here for over sixty years; raising cows, horses and children, as my grandmother likes to say. As a child I did not fully appreciate spending time on the ranch; my memories are a hazy mixture of hard work and hot cereal. But now I would give everything I own to go back in time and spend a day there. For me, driving on a lonely two lane road with an old barbed wire fence running along the side is like watching a John Hughes movie during the holidays; it makes me feel as though all is as it should be in the world.

Why don’t we appreciate the intrinsic value of uncultivated land? While a lack of human management is unarguably beneficial to the soil, plants and animals, there is human gain as well. A healthy planet benefits all of us and speaking as someone from a Waltons-sized family, trust me, privacy is imperative to health. Now and then, even Mother Nature needs to hang a Do Not Disturb sign and lounge around in her underwear. And every time we let an individual buy or swap public land, no matter how good the intentions, a little bit more of the Wild in the West disappears.

Just plain free money

Some would say Carbondale’s losing its favorite bracelet, one charm at a time, to monied newcomers eager to show us the latest trends. It’s a slippery slope, reaching for that carat. One minute we’re standing on a hill overlooking our town, and the next thing we know we’re taking a downvalley bus home because we can’t afford to live here anymore…

Letting the money take over is the worst-case-scenario because money doesn’t have imagination. Money only cares about more money. And in order to maintain a vibrant anything (town, economy, circus) one must make room for variety, especially when it comes to money.

Wealth does not reflect a man’s character; it reflects his bank account. –Rutger Bregman*

If we don’t manage a way for people of all walks to live comfortably in Carbondale, they won’t. We’ll get EVS (Empty Village Syndrome) and it isn’t just the young people we should focus on keeping. If I was retired and I could sell my house for enough to buy another house and still have a big pile of money, I would seriously consider leaving Carbondale. In order for our community to continue to thrive we need to convince people of all ages and affiliations to stay here.

On a national level, it’s much worse. People in Detroit can’t sell out, and even though they go to work every day they can barely survive, much less thrive. The only reason the American Dream lasted for this long is because people could afford to buy a house and take a summer vacation. The system won’t continue to work if the average worker keeps taking it in the teeth from every side. (And if you’re one of the privileged 1% you should be even more worried. Remember, the French aristocrats didn’t see it coming either.)

Luckily, there is a simple-yet-outrageous-sounding solution. It’s not my idea originally (however, I did ponder it in college; why can’t we marry socialism with capitalism? What if we made sure every citizen had their basic needs met, and then continued to foster an open market based economy? Even as a sophomore at a state college I could see the potential.) Thomas Paine thought of it way back in the founding days of our country: the Citizen Stipend. Or as I like to call it: Just Plain Free Money.

Here’s how it works: every single person collects a check from the government each month. A check that is enough to cover the basics: food & water, clothing, shelter, health care and education. (Unfortunately the cost of those electric icicles that hang off the roof and look terrible during the day, but lovely at night are not included. I mean, we have to draw the line somewhere.)

"Boom!" As my friend Taryne likes to say. That’s it. It’s not welfare because it goes to everyone, even cute little billionaires who don’t need it (although if they are as wealthy in character they’ll donate theirs… my opinion.) People will still go to work because humans like to be productive and useful, and because we still have to buy Christmas lights. It will eliminate homelessness and school lunchmeat. A huge lot of our problems solved with one little act; problems like crime, domestic violence and child hunger. Not to mention the increase in artists, acrobats and tinkers because people won’t have to take a middle-management-soul-killing job unless they want to. The creativity level would soar. And instead of teaching our children how to sit still for eight hours at a time, we could encourage them to find and follow their dreams. Oh- and I almost forgot, corporations do not receive the stipend. No matter what. “That’s it. It’s in the books.” -UB

Where does all the money come from, you ask? Easy, it comes from us; between our taxes and our spending (through corporations’ taxes) there’s more than enough to go around. We just need to cut into the enormous pie that is the defense budget. Yep, I said it. We have to stop a few Greedy Guts who are currently gorging themselves at the Mad Hatter’s table of American government.

Locally, we could get started on a smaller scale… maybe in the form of free trash/recycling removal, or an open tab at the Pour House on Last Saturdays. Whaddya say Carbondale Trustees: how about an incentive program for regular folks to remain in Carbondale? Because, let’s face it, they’re why this town was so flippin charming in the first place.

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIL_Y9g7Tg0

Spermapalooza

Have you ever noticed that in American movies the heroine’s happy ending is to get married and have babies? As if that’s all women really want out of life (except for the movie Little Black Book, which I love! In Little Black Book, Stacy’s happy ending is breaking up with the guy –he wasn’t the right guy– and meeting Carly Simon in person. And of course, Stacy’s as star-struck as you or I would be. Also, Holly Hunter is in the cast and I tend to love any movie with Holly Hunter. In fact, Holly Hunter may be my Carly Simon…)

Anyway, I’m not saying we don’t all love a good romantic comedy now and then, or that we would rather watch Charlize Theron take a submarine to the planet’s core and reverse the Earth’s spin. Please. All I’m saying is that once in a while something besides girl wants guy, girl gets guy, girl has guy’s baby would be refreshing. That formula is as tired as said girl will be in her third trimester. Of course, in Hollywood, who’s tired? It’s easy and fun to get through your day with a kid on the way! Apparently it’s like that in Washington DC as well. At least, according to the old men who think they should have a say in regards to American women’s pregnancies. Let me spell it out for you guys: unless you are the father of the fetus, it is none of your f-ing business. (Literally.)

I can’t tell if these guys are threatened by, envious of, or just plain hate women. In all the years of introducing bills to regulate women’s bodies and pregnancy options, I have never heard of a bill pertaining to men’s reproductive health. So, if we’re really claiming to be fair and unbiased, then it’s about time. My aunt D proposes we introduce legislation requiring men to be in the act of sex whenever they ejaculate. In other words, masturbation is now a legal matter, as it destroys the potential for millions of people in tube socks. Ridiculous? Yeah, we know. But if women’s reproductive issues are going to be on the table for national discussion, so should men’s. What’s good for the goose, and all that… And if our goal is to overpopulate the earth while eliminating any and all social programs to help these fetuses once they’ve grown up, then I say men have been in the dark for far too long (pun intended.) Let’s open that bathroom door and shed some light on all those wasted personhoods.

I think some men have Uterus Envy (did I just make that up? Has anyone studied this?) It seems like because they only carry the potential for life inside them they have to try to control the issue entirely; an issue that is much more of a game changer for the women. Listen up men with UE: just because you can’t nourish and carry the fetus to birth doesn’t mean you don’t have an important role to play. Your job is to plant the seed and then protect and secure the perimeter, and by ‘perimeter’ I mean the world for women.

It’s your job to notice that your wife’s eyes look like Roadrunner cartoon swirls and offer to babysit while she takes a nap. It’s your job to teach your offspring that violence against women, in any form, is the coward’s track. And it’s your job to bring about positive change for both men and women, not to make life harder by limiting access to birth control. Wake up! It’s the twenty-first century!

That’s one of the things I love about the Millennials, the men are not as confined by gender stereotypes. They bake, they knit, they host baby showers; very cool. Nothing like the old shriveled guys who stand in front of clinics holding disturbing signs and yelling at pregnant women. Hey— do I show up at your Dr.’s office with pictures of enlarged prostates and harass you about your exploits with Rosie Palm and her five sisters? No, I do not. But I could start. Mind your own business, and while we’re at it— mind your Ps and Qs.

You Republican't Be Serious

Aargh! I can’t take any more of the political ads! If there’s one thing I can’t stand more than a Democrat in an expensive suit, riding in a private jet, on his way to a $2000 a plate dinner, it’s a Republican. Am I right?

When you boil it all down, Republicans are supposed to balance the checkbook after the Democrats get done helping those in need. But I don’t see any of that happening today. Today, we have Democrats handing the piggy bank over to giant health insurance corporations and Republicans threatening to auction off our National Parks to the highest bidder. (Hey Ted Cruz: Teddy Roosevelt was a Republican.)

A real Republican would be all for legalizing marijuana and selling it on the open market because it’s the fastest and easiest way to balance the budget. A real Republican would work with the other side to reach a compromise because that’s how adults accomplish their goals. And the last time I checked, a real Republican would rather be naked, dipped in honey and strapped to an ant hill than have the federal government tell her whom to marry and what to do with her own uterus. These guys today are not Republicans. They are corporate plants threatening to shut down our government and sue the President of the United States. I beg your pardon?!

As I’ve said before, the idea of isolating our representatives and leaving them to fend for themselves in an Escape from NY type scenario greatly appeals to me. It’s pretty obvious Washington DC is broken and no one is advocating for the people anymore. But this two-camps-one-direction trend is a sham. My husband thinks Boehner & the Boys should be tried for treason, and he voted for Bush One. (He also says we’re moving out of the country if the next presidential election is another Bush versus Clinton. To which I say: Buenos Dias, Mexico!)

I always vote. I can’t help it. It’s a Lucky-to-have-first-world-problems kind of thing and I can’t shake it. But I do understand the ennui of younger generations. Why vote for one side of the same coin, when the only change we’re gonna see is the occasional dime on the street. And I’m still undecided on Amendment 68, the horse track in Aurora owned by a casino operator from Rhode Island. Both sides make a valid point: on one hand, more money for schools is a good thing. On the other hand, it’s a local issue and I don’t want to decide some poor soul’s fate that already has the misfortune to live in Saudi Aurora. If I was a betting woman— oh, wait a minute, I am! I would guess that this issue has as many layers as a freakin onion and the money spent on the ads alone could make a Republican cry.

Meanwhile, back at the halls of Garfield County, we do know the whole story. A vote for Sullivan for County Commissioner is a vote to protect the Thompson Divide (a very real place for wildlife and water) from poisonous chemicals, i.e., fracking. But a vote for Jankovsky means: secret meetings with oil companies in Utah, ‘upgrades’ on County Road 117 to widen it, (why?) and a green light to giving away public land to the private sector.

Which reminds me, will you please do me a favor? Go get a twenty dollar bill (or more!) put it in an envelope, and send it to:

Colorado Wild Public Lands PO Box 590 Basalt CO 81621

Their mission is to “advocate for retention of public lands and access, and for the ecological integrity and true economic value of these public assets.”*

Basically, CWPL is trying to protect public land for the people, and keep it out of the hands of the private sector, e.g. Big Oil, Big Gas, Big Wigs in ladies underwear. Which, I thought, was the job of the Bureau of Land Management, but since our bureaucrats can’t seem to find their own asses with two hands and a flashlight, I guess it’s up to us.

“The government is us; we are the government, you and I.” –Theodore Roosevelt

* http://coloradowildpubliclands.org/

Rage Against the Monsanto

“Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it.” -Mark Twain

My great grandfather and I share two important life events: we were both born on August 22^nd and we were both kidnapped.

In 1916 Robert Matson Perry was 33 years old and living in Oak Creek, Colorado, supervising the mine that his father owned. Two miners ambushed him in the dark of night and took him to a remote cabin to hold him for ransom. His father, Sam Perry, sent the money from Denver by train while Sam’s eldest daughter, Marjorie, began organizing a posse to rescue her brother. (I come from a long line of outdoorsy women who frequently camp for weeks at a time, and hunt things like bobcat and bear. So you can see why I’m seen as kind of a sissy in my family, just because I’d rather curl up on the porch with a book about the wild than actually go into it…)

Anyway, Robert managed to escape from his captors, killing one in the pandemonium, and immediately headed for the telegraph to inform his father to not send the cash. I can only presume that shooting one’s captor while escaping from confinement does, in fact, feel like pandemonium because I did not escape from my captors. In the end, I was simply free to go.

One morning in my mid-thirties I woke up to find three little triangle-shaped bruises in the shape of a triangle on the inside of my left arm. It was a strange and solid mark, but not painful nor explainable. So I let my imagination take hold and concluded that it must be a remnant of some kind of alien kidnapping device; perhaps an extraterrestrial IV that keeps the body hydrated and breathing while routine tests are performed.

While it’s easy for me to imagine an alien species more advanced than we are, using us in much the same way we use mice in our experiments, I do understand that it’s not a favored topic in polite conversation, which is why I don’t bring it up very often. Plus, I don’t actually remember the abduction, so it’s hard to give a point by point recollection. But I assume that with more of a big-picture point-of-view, aliens must find it frustrating to watch us. Even though we realize our food is toxic, we continue to eat; we’re the mice for Monsanto.

Because of Monsanto: crops are contaminated, cancer centers are as crowded as airports, and farmers all over the world have lost the family farm. Then, to add insult to injury, this summer one of the most prominent think tanks in the world invited Darth Vader into the Jedi compound conversation. (While I’m sure there’s still plenty of worthy unbiased knowledge to be gleaned at the Aspen Institute, it’s a far cry from the days of Bucky Fuller. I sure hope they don’t follow that town’s lead and turn it into the Aspen Bad Ideas Festival.)

You want to hear my idea? I think all the chemically infused water and genetically modified food we are ingesting directly correlate with the mass shootings and melee in our world. There has been little to no testing on GMOs, (mostly because the FDA is Monsanto’s bitch) and for all we know genetically modified food causes the body to attack the brain like in the book Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan.

It could explain the undeniable increase in autism and related conditions in our society in the last few decades. I’m already convinced GMOs are responsible for all the weird diet restrictions we have nowadays. Gluten intolerance probably has more to do with wheat being genetically modified than with a suddenly volatile reaction in the human body. Our parents and grandparents didn’t have nearly as many food allergies because they were eating real food. You know, back in the days when Monsanto was making Agent Orange.

The good news: Right to Know Colorado submitted nearly 125,000 signatures to the Colorado Secretary of State this summer and Proposition 105 (labeling GMOs) will be on the ballot in November.* I implore you to vote to know what we’re eating; if for no other reason, so that the aliens can see our species’ potential for generational growth!

* http://www.righttoknowcolorado.org/