To better, longer days, and new beginnings

Happy Winter Solstice 2019! If you're looking forward to a fresh start in the New Year, you have approximately 10+ days from today to take out whatever trash you've accumulated that no longer serves you well nor brings joy and beauty into your life. Today is also the anniversary of the death of John Steinbeck, one of my favorite writers and the winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1962. As I look at the state of the United States near the end of 2019 and the beginning of the third decade of the 21st century, I am putting a reread of The Grapes of Wrath on my 1st quarter reading list for next year. I may even see if I can get the Daughter Person and Son-In-Law to let me watch the movie with Henry Fonda on their Netflix link. With luck and some persuasion, I may even get them to watch it with me. See if this summary rings any bells based on contemporary headlines:

Set during the Great Depression, the novel focuses on the Joads, a poor family of tenant farmers driven from their Oklahoma home by drought, economic hardship, agricultural industry changes, and bank foreclosures forcing tenant farmers out of work. Due to their nearly hopeless situation, and in part because they are trapped in the Dust Bowl, the Joads set out for California along with thousands of other "Okies" seeking jobs, land, dignity, and a future.

First Edition Cover 

If Yogi Berra were still alive, he might say "It's Deja Vu all over again!" Back before I became a recovering planner, I frequently espoused the axiom "More of the same never solved a problem." We've been doing more and more of the same since the Great Depression and WWII and Steinbeck wrote "Grapes," with much the same results, and, in many cases, worsening problems.

Here's a disheartening example I discovered in a bookcase this morning. I uncovered a book I read long, long ago, titled The Ecological Citizen, copyright 1971. That was prior to the passage of the 1972 Clean Water Act Amendments and a year after the Clean Air Act of 1970, the first Earth Day, and the establishment of the Environmental Protection Agency. Between 1970 and 2020 a half century has passed and we still don't have clean water or clean air. In fact, our air is full of greenhouse gases which means our climate is broken almost beyond repair. Too many of our streets have too many homeless people trying to survive on them. Too many of our family farms are facing bankruptcy and/or consolidation. Too many of our politicians put party and politics before country and constitution. I'm reaching a point where I believe the best progress left for us is to give North America back to those from whom it was stolen. Perhaps, though, it might be better if we learn to collaborate with them on how to live on our only home planet.

Next Wednesday is Christmas, a time of rebirth and renewal. The New Year and the start of a new decade follow shortly thereafter. Soon days will be noticeably longer and warmer. With prayers, and luck, and hard work, we may, collectively, exhibit some wisdom between now and Christmas, 2020. In fact, I'm very much hoping for an early Christmas present next year, one we can open and begin to enjoy in early November. As the days improve, perhaps we can also. Once again, Happy Yule!

Maggie’s Farm

Written by: Bob Dylan

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I wake in the morning
Fold my hands and pray for rain
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin’ me insane
It’s a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
Well, he hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you with a grin
If you’re havin’ a good time
Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks
The National Guard stands around his door
Ah, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more

I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law
Everybody says
She’s the brains behind pa
She’s sixty-eight, but she says she’s twenty-four
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They sing while you slave and I just get bored
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more 

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