INSULT TO INTELLIGENCE AWARDS
M.L. Fischer (Sentinel)
Some of the things people say and do publicly, I'd be embarrassed to say or do within a small group of friends or family, as someone would undoubtedly say, "What! You think we're stupid or something?"
It seems high time that people who have the gall to do and say these things in front of millions of people should be given recognition, so I've come up with the "Insult to Our Intelligence Awards."
Since I believe in "Think globally; act locally," I'll start with the "Symbolic of What Award." This goes to the City of Santa Cruz for two items. Obviously, the first is the $83,000 sign that is supposed to symbolize the downtown area, but is generally disliked and has come to symbolize bad taste. Failing to get a clue from the aftermath of the sign, the City now wants to purchase some wreckage from the World Trade Center to construct a peace park.
This City should grasp three important concepts: 1. One person's symbol is another's eyesore. 2. Anything symbolic should be small, tasteful and inexpensive. 3. People generally prefer to have money spent on things they can actually use, such as swimming pools, museums, recreational facilities.
A small, wooden sign for under five grand wouldn't have raised much protest, and a plaque depicting the three firefighters raising the flag and placed at the clock tower would suffice as a memorial.
Obviously, the City shouldn't compound the errors by spending more money to pull down the sign and replace it with . . .
The next award is the "Empty Gesture Award," which goes to Governor Davis. The need for this award became abundantly clear while driving over the Golden Gate Bridge during the Martin Luther King weekend. There were thousands of people milling around on the bridge. Near the Marin terminus two National Guardsmen in battle fatigues and carrying guns walked among the pedestrians. I guess the governor thinks that will deter terrorists, who he apparently assumes will walk out on the bridge at the exact place the guardsmen are patrolling, and pull out a large device labeled, "bomb." The only other explanation is that Davis thinks that this impotent display will make us feel safer.
The "Fox Guards the Henhouse Award" also goes to our governor. He appoints timber industry people to the Board of Forestry, the board that is charged with regulating the industry. In spite of this insult to intelligence, he
apparently feels that he will automatically get the environmental vote simply because he wears the label, "Democrat." One has to wonder how long after losing the election will it take him to realize he's no longer governor.
The "Abuse of the English Language Award" is next. If a word's meaning becomes so generalized that it can mean anything, it becomes meaningless. This is what Linda Lay, wife of Enron's Kenneth Lay is attempting to do with "Victim." I think we can all agree that the innocent people killed in the World Trade Center were victims. I think that it's difficult to stretch the definition to include the loss of part of the huge wealth of people who were involved with the financial ruin of thousands.
The "Run for Cover Award" goes to President Bush for using the panic button of terrorism as a cover to gut the Bill of Rights, spend billions on "pork" projects, and trash environmental protections.
New award: the "Unlit Tunnel Vision Award" to the DEA who seem to believe that a bit of hemp oil in the frying pan will turn us into a nation of psycho dope fiends.
Finally, the "What, Me Worry," to certain members of the public who, when deluged by absurdity coming over the media, shrug and say, "Seems reasonable to me."
M.L. Fischer (Sentinel)
Time does seem to slip away, but as it does, things just keep getting better.
I was born just a bit ahead of the baby boom, probably two or three years ahead of the leading edge of that demographic bulge. Since their progress and needs have been the subject of media attention for decades, I should give them a heads up about an upcoming artificial transition.
you see, I've recently turned 60, and that seems really strange. Sixty is supposed to be old, but I've always felt I was riding the wave of the moment. I can't say I feel sixty, as I don't know what it's supposed to feel like. I just know I feel good. Being 60 means it's unlikely I'll live as many more years as I've already lived, but with new discoveries, it could happen. Either way I don't need to obsess over the future. A wayward driver could render future considerations irrelevant for any of us. The future, to me, is that event I expect next, and I still expect miracles.
I spent my 60th birthday riding some of the best waves of the season. the following weekend I led a hike to promote wilderness acquisition, a labor of love for almost three years. These are the activities that make me feel totally alive and leave no space to ponder the implications of age.
It's said that the fast reflexes of youth slip away with age. However, I've never been a star athlete. As a youth I was awkward and generally out of shape, so I'm probably as good a sportsman now as I was 40 years ago.
I awake each day to joy and anticipation. Life is good and rich and designed to optimize my experience. The possibilities that arise with the morning sun are almost infinite. Each day is a wonderfully complex and pleasurable banquet.
Last summer the Marine Sanctuary paid me to kayak along Monterey and Elkhorn Slough. I could afford to take that fun job because, unlike a young person who has a family to raise, a career to establish, a new home to purchase, and all the rest, I no longer have to work long hours at a serious job to provide for an expanding life style. I now allow myself the luxury of taking off work to catch some waves, take a hike, or have an enriching conversation.
A couple of weeks ago, I joined some other kayakers in a quest to follow migrating whales outside of Monterey Bay, and when someone complained that I left on my own and didn't wear a life jacket, I replied that I was too set in my ways to start conforming to others' expectations.
I no longer do things to be part of a crowd or to be liked. I do what I damn well feel like, and if others wish to join me, that's fine. Each day is like a bottle of fine wine, and my foremost obligation is to thoroughly enjoy it. If there's one obvious lesson in age, it's that I don't have forever to do the things I love.
Years ago I wasted dozens of hours each month in singles bars, dancing to bad pop music in order to impress women who I either had nothing in common with or who turned out to be vacuous. Now, when I go out, it's to hear a band I enjoy, not to impress anyone, and certainly not to dance.
Once I wondered what I was going to do with my life. Now whatever I do is my life.
I used to care how I looked, now it's irrelevant. If I forget to comb my hair, there's an old cap in the trunk.
Long ago i needed to surround myself with people, but I've learned to enjoy my own company. Lunch plans now often involve a slice of pizza and a book, rather than a crowd at a restaurant.
I believe I've made a small contribution to society. I've written at least one good book, created a few nice pieces of art, and helped with some worthwhile environmental causes. Now, if I do nothing else but play, I can still justify my existence .
Life is richer, fuller, and more honestly my own than at any time in the past. I can't complain.
M.L. Fischer (R-P)
Imagine a well planned city. Imagine civic leaders with a vision for a community that's beautiful to live in and a pleasure to visit. Imagine planning being done by members of the community and not by developers.
I've heard people say they wished that Watsonville could attract some of the tourists who spend their money in Santa Cruz and Capitola. But why should they? What is the draw, the charm of our community? Rows of new houses and strip malls are not magnets to tourism. These are available in any town.
Watsonville isn't right on the beach like Capitola, nor is it in the mountains like Felton. Does it have an undeveloped potential that could make it a nice place for both residents and tourists? It does, or rather it did.
At Ohlone Parkway and Harkins Slough Rd., behind the shopping center that houses Target and Staples, a new development is being built. It's just like every other cookie cutter development we've seen around here. The problem is that it is being built on some of the last remnants of Watsonville's slough system.
Houses will now march right up to a steep bank, and only those homes with yards that back up to the bank will have views of the slough. That's probably fine, as the natural system will be altered, causing much of the wildlife to disappear, and residential trash will soon make these wetlands unattractive.
Could something else have been done without losing the potential for development? Naturally. The trick is to identify your most attractive and valuable resources and then find a way to capitalize on them. People like to look at water and at pretty wildlife, such as birds. This basic understanding led San Luis Obispo to turn their urban stream from a drainage ditch to a lovely creek. Now restaurants and stores along this waterway attract a steady flow of customers.
Forgetting for a moment the other developments along the sloughs, let's look at what could have been done at this one location, an upland peninsula that juts out into the slough system. Where this peninsula has been graded flat right to the edges and tract homes are being constructed, more living units plus tourist serving businesses could have been constructed, while leaving part of the uplands and the views intact.
Starting near Harkins Slough Road, high density housing, such as condos and apartments, could have been built. Between those housing units and the slough would have been a perfect place for a row of small, visitor serving store fronts. These could have been small restaurants, coffee places, pubs, gift shops, art galleries, and the like. Then the end of the peninsula could have been restored habitat, giving visitors the opportunity to enjoy something that has almost ceased to exist in California, coastal wetlands, complete with the wildlife that inhabits it.
With only a few coastal wetlands left, it isn't hard to imagine people coming to Watsonville to walk along the wetlands, have lunch, a glass of wine, buy some gifts or art and then telling their friends about the lovely experience.
But myopic planning has all but ruined that scenario. What we have is rows of tract houses, chain stores and fast food places. "What town is this: Merced, Foster City, Watsonville?" Who knows; they all look the same.
M.L. Fischer (R-P)
Since Aron Ralston's back country ordeal and amputation, the media turned a spotlight on solo hiking, kayaking and other outdoor activities. The conventional wisdom is that it isn't wise to go it alone, and that even very experienced outdoors people should be monitored. There is another side to this story.
I really started my solo activities in my late forties, primarily because I got tired of waiting to find someone else who had the same desire and the same schedule. My thinking was, "Sure, I'd love company, but I'm not going to sit home waiting." Since starting to take solo hikes, backpacking, and kayak trips, I've discovered something about myself. I like it that way.
To begin with, the natural, uncivilized world is an awesome place to experience. Having a gang of people constantly jabbering about their jobs or relationships only diminishes the experience, along with people shaking their cell phones and shouting, "Can you hear me?" Alone, one can have something rarely found in busy, daily life, peace and quiet.
Alone on the water or in the back country, a person can get closer to the life that abounds there. A quiet, solitary person doesn't scare away all creatures big and small, and it's common to meet usually shy animals along the way. Then, being alone, one can sit down and observe creatures involved in their daily routines.
Modern life is hectic and leaves little time and space for introspection. We are so busy dealing with others, we become strangers to ourselves. Out on the water in a kayak or on some mountain trail, a person has the time to become reacquainted with him/her self. There is a tendency to sort out priorities and to appreciate the simple pleasures that make life worth living.
Naturally, it's wonderful to set one's own pace and schedule, and the sense of daring adventure is always a rush. Knowing there is no one else to rely on makes a person's senses sharp. The world suddenly comes into focus, and one is fully in the moment.
Are these solo activities safe? That's hard to answer. Safe is relative. Crossing a busy street isn't particularly safe, but we do it cautiously. In the long run, fast food isn't safe, but most of us eat it. If we have some sense of what we are getting into and a realistic view of our limitations, solo adventure can be safe enough. On a recent hike up a mountain with another person who often solos, that subject came up. We ended up agreeing that, considering all the urban crime, it is probably safer to be alone on a mountain than to walk into an inner city convenience store at night.
Ultimately, we are fragile beings. We can and will become injured and sick at times in our lives, and we are not immortal. While we are here and healthy, we deserve nothing less that to taste the fullness of our lives. One way to do that is to go it alone.
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M. L. Fischer
Apparently, reincarnation doesn't always progress in a chronological sequence, as I'm beginning to discover. It slowly dawned on me that I was somehow born into a primitive, rather dark age. Although I've always felt that something was fundamentally wrong, I understand now that I've been thrown back almost to the dawn of awareness. Therefore this missive will be placed in a time capsule so that people in the civilized future will realize just how far they've come.
I'll start with the small oddities of this archaic culture and finish up with the truly bizarre.
People in this era entertain themselves primarily by watching something called television. It's an excellent concept, but the content is rather barren. There are these dramas and comedies that have predictable plots, yet people watch in order to find out how it comes out. The comedies make extensive use of very shopworn gags, many left over from the early days of motion pictures.
They also feature sports on television. While everyone knows that sports are physical contests you participate in for recreation and physical health, these people sit still in a chair, consume vast amounts of high calorie snacks and watch other people participate in these sports on television. Yes, you can be into sports without moving more than the hand that dips into the bag of snacks.
They choose their leaders, not by detailed analysis, but through short, often repeated slogans known as sound bites. As a rule they know nothing substantial about the people who will decide the destiny of their societies.
And it is "societies" in the plural. They break themselves up into arbitrary groups and make a big deal out of minor differences in customs and language. Sometimes these squabbles grow into international incidents. "Ethnic" is the term for these minor differences, and often tiny ethnic differences erupt into violence, even though an outsider can see no differences between the disputants.
If people obsess enough over these differences, war erupts, and thousands of people are killed.
Wars are also fought over money. Some people have none, and others have more than they could ever spend. I know, logically the ones with too much would give some to those with none, but these people would rather kill each other than pass a bit of money around.
Probably the strangest thing about these people, as well as the oddest reason to fight a war, is religion. That's right, most of these people still believe that whatever force or intelligence created the vast universe is personally concerned with their lowly lives and has devised intricate sets of arbitrary rules for each ethnic group to follow in order to curry divine favor. Not only do they believe this, but they slaughter each other by the millions over it, all the while shouting that their god is merciful and that killing is a sin.
When you encounter these people individually, they usually seem like rational and pleasant beings, but when they get together in groups, they can be a scary tribe of barbarians.