It’s not often that I find something profound in the pages of The Wall Street Journal. But today I did.
…emailing at this frantic rate, is pleasing very few of us. It is encroaching on parts of our lives that should be separate or sacred, altering our minds and our ability to know our world, encouraging a further distancing from our bodies and our natures and our communities. We can change this; we have to change it. Of course email is good for many things; that has never been in dispute. But we need to learn to use it far more sparingly, with far less dependency, if we are to gain control of our lives.
In the past two decades, we have witnessed one of the greatest breakdowns of the barrier between our work and perÂsonal lives since the notion of leisure time emerged in Victorian Britain as a result of the Industrial Age. It has put us under great physical and mental strain, altering our brain chemistry and daily needs. It has isolated us from the people with whom we live, siphoning us away from real-world places where we gather. It has encouraged flotillas of unnecessary jabbering, making it difficult to tell signal from noise. It has made it more difficult to read slowly and enjoy it, hastening the already declining rates of literacy. It has made it harder to listen and mean it, to be idle and not fidget.
This is not a sustainable way to live. This lifestyle of being constantly on causes emotional and physical burnout, workÂplace meltdowns, and unhappiness. How many of our most joyful memories have been created in front of a screen?
John Freeman, acting editor of Granta magazine fashioned his manifesto for slow communication from his forthcoming book, The Tyranny of E-Mail.
The passage above brings up a lot of things I’ve been dealing with for years. Electronic mail is but the tip of the iceberg. My professional identity is now tied (in part) to the Web, thanks to the success of AdPulp.com. Thus, I’m compelled to add content to the machine multiple times a day—an act which requires sifting through hundreds of Web pages and all the little bits therein fighting to be noticed. In short, I’m overexposed, and overexposure sadly is something I share with too many friends and colleagues.
Recently, I moderated an online debate between two old friends on the importance of Facebook. One friend argued for the social networking site while the other explained why he couldn’t be bothered. “Socializing on the Internet is not for me,” my reluctant friend said, noting what is for him: hiking Utah’s beautiful trails, riding his bike, reading books and writing books. This friend is a deep believer in slow communication. So much so he’s been traveling around the country this summer and intentionally choosing to leave his laptop at home (so he can enjoy his travels unencumbered). Email, he says, mostly upsets him, as it often comes, consciously or not, with a list of demands on his time.
I admire my friend’s clarity on this issue and his wise decision to allocate his time to physical world activities. Sometimes I think about closing the laptop, storing it on a shelf and forcing myself to rejoin the analog world of book stores, telephone calls and physical work. There’s probably a way to achieve the balance I need without taking drastic measures, but the fact remains I think about the cold turkey approach regularly, which tells me I need to change my habits, one way or another.
The Allman Brothers Band and Widespread Panic are out on tour together, ripping it up wherever they go. Sadly, they’re coming nowhere near the West Coast, so I guess I’ll just have to hear about it (live recordings are available after each performance) and read about it in the local newspapers.
The Allman Brothers continue to evolve. Saturday’s dial-a-jam saw them bring every member of the opening band, Widespread Panic, onstage at one point or another for jam sessions. And Rochester’s pedal-steel guitar star, Chuck Campbell of the Campbell Brothers, added that sacred-steel gospel to the night on “Soul Serenade,” and then again on the encore, Campbell getting high-fives and hugs from the band for his wailing solo on “Southbound.” It was midnight before all possibilities had been exhausted.
LiveWidespreadPanic.com has the Panic’s set form Canadaigua available now. HittintheNote will carry the “Instant Live” recording of ABB’s set at a later date.
Frustrated with the lack of meaningful dialogue around the nation’s health care debate, columnist Paul Krugman let one rip in The New York Times yesterday.
Washington, it seems, is still ruled by Reaganism — by an ideology that says government intervention is always bad, and leaving the private sector to its own devices is always good.
Call me naïve, but I actually hoped that the failure of Reaganism in practice would kill it. It turns out, however, to be a zombie doctrine: even though it should be dead, it keeps on coming.
Yes, because the zombies–in this case the insurance companies and big pharma–have lots of money at stake. When there’s lot of money at stake, the public will be under-served every time. That much we know.
Krugman, unlike most Americans, is a student of history.
“We have always known that heedless self-interest was bad morals,†said Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1937. “We know now that it is bad economics.†And last year we learned that lesson all over again.
Or did we? The astonishing thing about the current political scene is the extent to which nothing has changed.
Sadly, our present day recession is bad, but not bad enough to break the stranglehold. We haven’t reached a tipping point yet. In the 1930s one-in-three Americans was out of work and let’s remember that women typically didn’t hold jobs at that time, which meant one-in-three households had no income whatsoever. Today, things are falling apart, but not as fast.
More importantly, the psychology of the situation isn’t leading Americans to fundamental change. Instead of coming to terms, millions are busy trying hard to hold on to whatever they have—their boat, their home, the college fund for the kids and/or a retirement nest egg. Let’s just get back to normal is the prevailing mindset and that’s not going to lead to radical change.
We needn’t look back very far to recall what a miserable start the Clinton White House had in 1993 because of health care. Whatever the powerful interest–health care, the gun lobby, welfare farmers, warring oilmen–they can be outdone, but only through a massive public uprising. And who has time for that kind of vigilance when there’s a job to keep (or find), kids to feed, dogs to walk and favorite TV programs to capture on the DVR?
Krugman is astonished that nothing has changed in America. He knows we ought to know better. But we don’t know better and therein lies the real challenge. How do we lead our neighbors, friends and family from the fear that binds them into a new era of cooperation and trust? I don’t know any way other than to write it out and talk it out.
The Oregon Trail is still an open road some 150 years after the first wave of white migration. I’m here from Omaha. Darby’s here from Cleveland. Our friend Chief is here from Minneapolis. And so on…
But what’s at the end of the trail today? Open-minded and friendly people. A unique craft beer industry and thriving winery scene. Locally-grown slow food. Bike lanes. Off-leash dog parks. Volcanoes, wild salmon, big trees and lots of beautiful flowers. But no coin, however shiny, is one-sided. Oregon is also home to a frightening economy.
One-in-four Oregonians are under-employed and one-in-six is on food stamps. Talk about an ugly underbelly. When it comes to employment, it doesn’t get any uglier than the Beaver State (which is odd given that beavers are builders).
I’ve been on a hunt for an answer (any answer) to Oregon’s economic woes, because I don’t think it should be a mystery; rather it must be an obvious problem that all Oregonians–new and native–work to solve.
I’ve had the good fortune to speak with two ad agency principals in the past few weeks about the problem and one of the things I’m learning is a mix of economic forces like banking industry consolidation and the lumber industry’s new focus on its Southern U.S. operations (where it can grow more trees faster) have dealt a particularly harsh blow, as firms that were headquartered in Portland now have little or no presence in the city.
In the meantime creative class hipsters and laborers alike are pounding the pavement, with little hope of finding work. One has to wonder where the answers will come from. Portland Mayor Sam Adams wants the City of Roses to become the City of Sustainability and he sees massive job creation as a result of that pursuit. He might be right, but I think more radical solutions may need to be implemented and soon. For instance, legalizing industrial hemp and recreational use of marijuana would in one year’s time revolutionize the state’s economy, and the region’s because CA, WA and BC would be right there with us. It might sound far-fetched but what’s even more outrageous is the idea that one-in-three or one-in-two Oregonians might someday be out of work or under-employed.
Breathe Owl Breathe is a great name for a band and it fits the earthy trio from Northern Michigan who goes by that name particularly well.
Breathe Owl Breathe is Trevor Hobbs on percussion, Micah Middaugh on vocals and guitar and Andrea Moreno-Beals on cello, vocals and assorted other instruments. The three are friends who spend part of the year living together in a remote cabin. This summer they’ve been on the road in Alaska and more recently in Oregon. They played Pickathon last weekend and Tuesday we drove out to Hillsboro to see them perform for free at McMenamin’s Cornelius Pass Roadhouse.
Upon hearing the first few songs, Everybody Fields and The Avett Brothers came to mind. But Breathe Owl Breathe has their own thing going, that’s for sure.
Amy Fletcher of the Juneau Empire describes their music:
In lyrics that are at once vivid and obscure, Breathe Owl Breathe sings of mastodons and glaciers, toboggans and boats, evoking landscapes through their music that would be easy enough to imagine were formed right here in Southeast Alaska. However, Northern Michigan is their base, another place where winter encourages creativity.
Micah Middaugh’s deep bass voice and Andrea Moreno-Beals’ gentle soprano describe few coherent pictures but rather hint at images and states. Backed by Middaugh’s guitar, Moreno-Beals’ cello and Trevor Hobbs’ gentle percussion, the three produce unusual songs that linger in the imagination.
Linger they do. We own both Ghost Glacier and Ghost Glacier the EP and we’ve been playing them this week in anticipation of the band’s performance and as a reminder of it.
[MP3 Offering] “Last Dance” by Breathe Owl Breathe
Portland journalist Abraham Hyatt spent the last month organizing all the details that went into today’s Digital Journalism Camp, a free conference for journalists of all stripes. Given the state of newspapers and journalism in general, the price was certainly right.
One thing that wasn’t right was the no WiFi situation. Apparently, Sprint was going to provide WiFi but bailed at the last minute. There was one hot spot available but it was only good for eight connections. Some attendees plugged their machines to a physical port, some thanked their stars for a cell connection and others took notes the old fashioned way, by hand in a $1.29 notebook (can you imagine?).
Hyatt opened the day with remarks about re-imagining the work journalists do. He said journalists must find “nimble, pro-active and exciting ways of telling stories and describing the world we live in.”
The first panel of the day–on hyperlocal news sites–was led by business writer Michelle Rafter. She said if she had a million dollars she’d build and fund a hyperlocal news organization. Panelist Ken Aaron, Co-Founder of Neighborhood Notes, could relate. His site endeavors to break news on the neighborhood level in Portland. He described the transition Neighborhood Notes made from blog to news site and I was happy to hear they do, in fact, pay freelance writers for news stories assigned by the site’s editor(s). The rate is only $.10/word but it’s more than Huffington Post pays, or AdPulp for that matter.
During the morning’s second panel on SEO for journalists, I learned that I’m supposed to look at Google Trends for keywords and then place them in my titles, preferably surrounded by html header tags. I’m sure the experts are right, but that’s not how I roll. Writing creative headlines is a joy and not one I’m likely to give up any time soon.
I grabbed a free falafel for lunch and a bottle of water, courtesy of a conference sponsor. Over the lunch hour, I chatted with Steven Walling who writes for ReadWriteWeb and works for AboutUs. Alex Wilhelm, a.k.a @Alex, Co-Founder of Contenture told me about his new PayPal-like service for content producers (something I want to learn more about and perhaps put into play). Finally, Mike Rogoway, business writer for The Oregonian, entertained my questions about why OregonLive.com was down the street in a separate building. He reminded me that while both The Oregonian and OregonLive.com are owned by Advance, they are in fact two different companies. I know that, of course, but it’s something I can’t quite get my thick head around.
The one o’clock hour was Ginger Grant’s turn to entice the audience with the power of story and myth, in particular. By the way, this Grant is not a character on Gilligan’s Island. She’s a B.C.-based professor, speaker and consultant. Grant said when she looks at a company she doesn’t want to know job descriptions. Rather, she wants to know what people are good at and most passionate about. She said if we suck at something maybe we ought to stop doing it. Sounds logical.
Grant also suggested we each make a list with two columns. First, list “What You Love” and follow it with “What’s Not Working For You.” Then use what you love to fix what’s not working for you, she said. Interesting. With that math, I ought to be able to write my way out of financial instability. Hold it, I’ve done that (several times over). Yes, but it’s a challenge that never ends.
We tried to go to one a while back in Atlanta, but our flight from Savannah was canceled and we missed the show and ate the tickets. No such obstacles stood in our way last night. We sailed out I-84 to Troutdale and easily found a sweet spot to pitch our lawn chairs. We started tipping back wine and handcrafted brews care of our Edgefield hosts and generally speaking “got our show on.” And a great show it was.
The Decemberists pulled off a combination perhaps only the Decemberists could pull off. They blistered an hour-long fantastical song cycle, followed it with a collection of favorites and the baddest cover of a Heart song ever.
Because if you’re going to have Lavender Diamond’s Becky Stark, and My Brightest Diamond’s Shara Worden on tour (playing the forest queen and the lovely Margaret), you damn well better do “Crazy On You.”
But let’s discuss the night’s centerpiece. “The Hazards of Love” is pretentious, and it does demand attention, and it’s as unlikely a major-label release as you’ll find in 2009. It’s as unlikely a release as you’ll find, period.
These aren’t bad things. If this is the age of the nerd, as John Hodgman would have us believe, here’s the soundtrack.
I’m not going to refute the nerd rock label, but I will add that The Decemberists’ music could serve as the soundtrack for several other movements, including almost anything nautical (take “The Deadliest Catch,” for instance). The band is also waving a flag for art and theater, for Portland and for indie rock.
I don’t know the band’s work well enough to say what it all means—the cyclical lyrics and their theatrical, sometimes comical, live performance. But I know enough to say I love it when post-modern nerd rock meets, however briefly, something resembling Black Sabbath. Those dark chords from decades past give the band’s heady music something steady to lean on. Which is a good thing when you’re a band with costumes, charisma, something to say and the ambition and talent to make it all come together.
We just spent a week in mythical lands with beautiful people. Except they’re all real. Our friends and family and the two places—Mt. Rainier and Hood Canal. These places deserve National Geographic-style write ups, but for our purposes here I’d like to focus on Hood Canal, an area of Washington that I heretofore knew nothing about.
Darby and I motored the two plus hours from Rainier on Sunday afternoon and were thrilled to land at Alderbrook Resort in tiny, unincorporated Union, WA. It’s hard to describe the magnificent setting and the breathtaking scenery at Alderbrook, but I’ll give it a go.
Alderbrook is an historic camp site on Hood Canal, a major, hook-shaped Puget Sound tributary on the Olympic Peninsula southwest of Seattle. The sign says, “Since 1913,” but the experience today is totally updated. The restaurant at Alderbrook served us consistently great meals of wild salmon, organic chicken, halibut, Nebraska rib eye and quail. Capt. Lee Geist, who we met on the dock, took us on an impromptu spin around the canal in his lovingly restored vessel, Jack. Lucy hunted for oyster shells on the beach at low tide, the hot tub and steam room soothed our aching bones and Darby went to the spa for a therapeutic massage.
When we were on the boat with the Captain we learned a bunch. First, he pointed out George Washington’s profile in the towering, jagged peaks to our West. We learned that a pod of killer whales came to the area a few years ago and ate 800 seals, decimating the local population. We also learned that the compound next to Alderbrook is owned by Bill Gates and that Alderbrook’s multi-million dollar renovation and exceptional hospitality is the work of Jeff Raikes, a longtime Microsoft Corp. executive and part owner of the Mariners. Further inquiry also turned up the Nordstrom family’s connection to this place, which despite some of its rich summer residents still manages to emit a humble, real and easy vibe.
On Monday and again on Tuesday we drove around the south end of the Canal and up the other side to Hoodsport and beyond. At the entrance to the town of Eldon we stopped to snap a pic. My grandfather was named Eldon and he would have loved Eldon, WA. The Hamma Hamma River comes pouring out of the Olympic range in to the sea at Eldon. It’s a sportman’s paradise and my grandfather was the ultimate sportsman–a quail, duck, deer and elk hunter and patient, often rewarded fisherman. We saw an Elk standing near the mouth of the river and further upstream I jumped in to a lucid pool where trout and salmon live. Along the banks of the Hamma Hamma, I felt as if we were living in another time. Romantic as it is, I felt like maybe this is our Big Two-Hearted River.
Of course, it’s not the 1920s and I’m not Hemingway. My initial research shows that the Hood Canal ecosystem is in fact fighting for its life.
Hood Canal is suffering a thousand cuts. Old, failing septic systems pollute its waters. The flood-prone Skokomish River carries agricultural runoff — including pesticides and fertilizers — into the south end of the canal. Dead chum salmon, dumped by Skokomish Indians, used to pollute the canal — until Dicks found a market for the carcasses.
To sum up, Hood Canal is a special place in every way. Old money (and new) from Seattle loves it. Boaters love it. Fisherman love it. Hunters love it. Hikers and backpackers love it. Wilderness lovers love it. Writers and environmentalists from Portland love it. Eagles and whales and seals love it. But like all places beloved it needs T.L.C.
Here’s one group working to preserve the natural beauty of this area.
For an online map and more information about Hood Canal see GoNorthwest.com.
Nau is a Portland-based active wear company that makes gear for “artists, athletes and activists out to unfuck the world.” I would have chosen a different way of expressing that sentiment, but I do hear what Nau is saying and I count myself among the people they’re trying to reach.
When you visit Nau’s Web site and click on “Collective Stories,” you’ll find an archive of videos that showcase the concerns of Nau employees and their customers. For example, here’s a piece on Salmon Nation and Salmon Nation Artists Project CD:
I like how Alexa Wiley Pengelly, one of the CD’s producers says, “Culture is alive. It is found within experiences and moments passed down and shared by our elders, civic leaders and creative communities, connecting people to the land.”
I also love the paintings of the mighty fish by Mimi Matsuda.
