Cat Frisbee

My cat has made a recent discovery: cat frisbee.

It's unlike other forms of frisbee because cats, as you well know, lack opposable thumbs, making regular frisbee impossible.

Their small size and puny jaws make fetch frisbee of the dog variety all but impossible.

Ahh but cats have an amazing aptitude for turning any flat object on a smooth above ground surface into a frisbee.

Stack of papers or mail on your coffee table? That could be a frisbee.

Notepad on desk? Frisbee.

Book on nightstand? Frisbee.

You get the point. It turns out though, that the ultimate frisbee is a stiff woven placemat. Boy can those things launch off of a kitchen table.

The irony is that the cat generally has no interest in playing frisbee. It's only a side effect of rapid departure...usually because the cat is caught somewhere the cat is not supposed to be, like on the kitchen table playing with the string tied around the neck of the decorative vase.

Breaking Out of Poverty: An Exercise in Imagination

In the US, we've got a serious problem with poverty. I see it every day--dirty men curled up on bus benches or meandering the sidewalks. I rarely see women, unless they're old. The younger ones may have better access to resources, or perhaps they're in hiding. If I take my bike, the street I go down passes the shelter. There's often a group of guys hanging out in the shade of the building across the street.

I usually try to say hi.

The early morning street meanderers often don't respond. They, quite frankly, often seem a bit off--crazy. If you think they're lazy bums that need to get jobs, I think you should try talking to them. They need help, serious mental help. Judging by their ages (mostly 60-ish), I think there is a good chance they were in the Vietnam War. My patriotism tells me that I have a debt to these men, regardless of my feelings about that or any other war. Our nation sent them abroad, forced them to witness and carry out terrible acts, and then returned them here. PTS might keep them from working. Or maybe it led to a drug addiction as a means of coping. If they were convicted of drug abuse, they lose veteran benefits. Is their homelessness their fault for drug use? I don't think a nation can violate the mind of another human being with war and then abandon them for showing basic symptoms of that violation.

The group I often pass by near the shelter is younger, late 30s through 50. They are cleaner, saner, willing to engage in a hello. They're even jovial at times. Unlike the crazy wanderers, these men form a community. They are not alone. They also look like they get a shower now and again, like they're a little better fed, like given the right opportunity they could get out of their predicament. Are you upset that they hang outside the shelter waiting for a handout? I'm not. The shelter is the primary tool that helps these men to maintain the social presence that makes them seem normal to me, like they are middle class people my parents could be friends with. Perhaps they lost jobs and then homes, but they are temporary. They're not stuck. They're using the resources available to get out.

Sometimes I ask myself what if I lost my job and home and ended up on the street. How would I get out? I would be right there where those men are, taking handouts from those willing to give it so that I could rise out and up. Without such resources, there's no way I could do it otherwise, but I would be hellbent on paying back that debt when I was done.

Those men, quite honestly, seem better off even than those with places to stay near where I live. The men by the shelter are educated. You can tell they have more opportunity awaiting them. There is hope in their eyes. Go a few blocks further north and you'll see others walking or riding bicycles to work, sometimes driving rusty cars. These folks look beaten, tired. They are working hard and gaining nothing--one paycheck away from starvation or homelessness themselves. These are the ones the system fails most. They can't possibly work harder than they're already working, and somehow, we think working harder will pull them out of this mess.

I'd like to see each presidential candidate sit down with these folks and ask them how they got where they are. Those folks to the north won't have a tale about what went wrong that put them where they are. They've always been there, lacking the resources to get out. One would gladly do it. The other might claim that he would not indulge the excuses of those who would not help themselves.

Then I'd like to see each presidential candidate imagine himself in that position and describe what he could do to get out. I know which candidate can realistically anticipate the barriers of ascension. And I know which candidate does not understand that borrowing money to invest in an unsure future is not a reasonable plan of action for some and that borrowing money to invest is not even an option for others. This candidate is not alone in his failure to imagine this reality outside his own. Millions of American are ill-equipped to understand the difficulty of poverty.

I know barriers exist for these unknown neighbors of mine, and yet I cannot fathom my life with such barriers. Even if I become homeless someday, I am educated and have no physical or mental limitations, preventing me from bouncing back. I have the advantage of middle class culture. I can only image myself as one of those men outside the shelter, equipped to get back into the game instead of lost in a hopeless struggle to survive.

We have human beings here in the US, suffering. I see them. They are not bums. They are not drug addicts. They are not lazy. They are human beings. And yet, it takes seeing them every single day to remind me that they're there and that I should do something. Otherwise I might forget.

But what should I do?

The Ugly Face of Politics

The ugly face of politics has been my face. I get all fired up and reason fails, and sometimes I say brilliant things, but they are often hanging right there in the air next to dumb things. And sometimes I get mean and ugly. I hate it when other people do this, and I hate it more when I do it, but I just keep doing it, so I'm going to try to be one of those classy folks who never says a thing about politics and discretely does their civic duty and keeps it all to themself (not that the whole world doesn't already know how I feel).

Instead of this ugly face, I'm going back to focusing on food, my cat, books, and on occassion whatever I'm crafting. I shall revel in the glory of my premature old-lady-dom. It shall be glorious.

The other day I made squash while spouting a narrative of being the squash god in the style of genesis. No, I was not alone. I had a friend present. I shall endeavor more to bare such quirks in lieu of the ugly face of politics. Quirky, squash-god Schurl is much preferable.

Serious Apartment Hunt (sans Ego)

I've been saying I want to move so I can save more money for forever, but I don't move. Not moving is nice. Why should I really move?

My apartment is secure, and clean, and my neighbors aren't too awful, though sometimes I wish they would spontaneously combust (yesterday morning the two lovebirds next door woke me up singing an off-key duet. Note: these are not actually birds, but mid to late 30-something humans). I also have this great shower with a smooth surface that is so easy to clean. It has a nice low-flow showerhead that still offers pressure, too. I have had some plumbing issues, but maintenance here is great--super quick. I have garage space that I pay a small fortune for, but it's already prevented my car from taking a hail beating and now that I have a new bike, I can put that bike in the garage.

In other words, my life is peachy, but my budget is kind of tight to manage. When I selected this place, I was a single person with no obligations. Now I have committed to a tall awkward other that's 5 hours away, which means budgeting gas to visit and eating out (or buying fancy things to cook fancy at home). This has been a strain, but I manage, mostly by paying off the credit card debt accumulated during unemployment much more slowly than planned. Then yesterday, I committed 5% of my income to a 401k because my employers match the most at that rate, and I'm finally eligible to contribute. I kept doing my budget and thinking, 3% is all I can afford and then I input 5% on the enrollment form anyway. I'll make it work, I said to myself.

So my next step after committing myself to serious retirement savings was to cancel the automatic transfer I have scheduled to my pre-existing IRA. I will re-institute it if I find an adequate place with adequate savings. I also kind of hope to increase what I auto-transfer to my regular savings account and to increase monthly transfer to paying of my credit card. The sooner I pay off my credit card, the sooner I can pay extra on my student loans, which I will be paying off forever, so I don't even imagine life without it as a bill, but I do often dream a few years out when my car will be paid off. It's such an exciting thought.

I've had all of these goals all along, but I rented a secure downtown apartment with codes to get in, and cameras in the halls, and a deadbolt on my door. It's hard to give that up. Lately though, I think to myself, what would I do if I made what I did at my last job? I wouldn't have a choice. I would have to live in one of these other less desirable places that are available. A less secure place where I would watch my back as I walk from my car to my door and probably clutch pepper spray in my hand, mostly out of paranoia, but also because it's better to be safe than sorry.

I had those habits during my undergraduate college career, and I've already moved so far beyond that lifestyle into a land of privilege that I turn my nose up at such living and the people who live in those places, but there are plenty of nice people in poorer neighborhoods. In fact, I miss my old neighbors from my last apartment. They were nicer, and friendlier, and quieter--in interaction they behaved more like people and there was a sort of unspoken pact that we watched out for eachother because there were some unsavory types around. Other than a nod in the elevator, my current apartment is full of people who are just too busy and wrapped up in themselves. Of course, they don't have to worry about me, and I don't have to worry about them, so there isn't a whole lot of necessity for such elements of humanity.

So I've reminded myself that I am not too good to live cheap. People do it every day, and if they're smart about it, they're fine. I do kind of wish I could get a dog for an extra sense of security. I remember one summer living alone in a basement apartment with no roommate, and I used to worry someone would come in through a window in the unused room or something, so I kept a frying pan by my bed and counted on my cockatiel to squawk the alarm from the hallway. Maybe a new cockatiel would be more feasible than a dog?

Outdoorsy Materialism

Lately, I am experiencing a new surge of materialism, which is a reminder that one purchase does not quell the desire for stuff but enhances it.

Chris and I both have recently become the proud owners of the material possessions known as bikes. I am very, very happy that we have them. I've been riding mine to work and the Y. Chris has been riding his about 10 miles a day (21 yesterday). I'm sooooo pleased about us having bikes and actually using them.

So am I content to go out and use my bike all the time and forget about making any other purchases? Nope. Yesterday, I bought new sneakers. To be fair, I bought my old pair 5 years ago and have worn the soles smooth-ish. My feet and knees have been hurting after zumba. It was time. After hours reviewing sneakers online, I ordered a pair from Dick's Sporting Goods online.

That should have been enough, but while on their website I also looked at a resistance band and earplugs for swimming. I almost bought both, but I found out I was $1 away from getting a reward that would cover most of the resistance band, so I put that on hold. I convinced myself I need it so I could get a better workout with one of my Denise Austin cheesy 90s workout videos. The earplugs I had been planning to get for some time because I do swim and I also tend to get swimmer's ear, so I feel like that's okay--and those are super cheap.

Materialism quelled? Again, no. I went to track my order to see if they were super fast and had already shipped the items yesterday and somehow found myself looking at canoes and then grills. Ridiculous. Both would be nice, except I would never use them with my partner in crime being five hours away. I'm not very good about doing things by myself.

Instead I made myself a list of activity gear, then I made myself some rules for purchases. Big ticket items like the grill and canoe cannot be purchased until my car is paid off. Little items like tennis balls, reflective gear for biking, and new fitness clothes must be earned. I haven't decided just how yet. I'm thinking maybe a short story or five must be written, polished, and posted on my blog in order to earn such things.

I may have to apply this reward system to clothing shopping too.

When Did I Turn Mean?

I used to be a very, very nice person. It was my super power. You can pick, and pick, and pick at Cheryl, but she will quietly deal and still be nice. When did I stop doing that?

Now I get fired up about something and  post a heated opinion on facebook. It might even offend people, and I'm not bothered by that, whereas I used to get annoyed with everyone's rhetoric. I might think to myself "Yes, that's true, but it won't convince anyone if they keep saying it that way. They're only offending people."

I used to have this response to a lot of feminist material that was man bashing and minority rhetoric that was white bashing. Yes, these powers need subverted, suppressed, but angry rants don't do a thing to change minds.

I realized recently when reading an angry rant in response to some oppressive, anti-women, legislation that angry rants aren't always about convincing the other side. Sometimes you can't convince the other side, so the only thing you can do is to rant angrily to get your own side fired up. Get them mad, make them passionate. This is a huge motivator to get people to vote. It's why politics get so ugly. Fearmonger long enough and well enough and people will have no choice but to vote for you because they're terrified of what the other side would do in office.

This cycle will never break. Fear will always be a greater motivator than any passionate agreement. But I used to feel very passionate about breaking this cycle. And I think it's still an admirable goal and effort regardless of its feasibility.

Today I was called "nice" as if somehow being nice makes me naive and simple. My views will be wrong because they aren't adequately jaded. And suddenly I'm fired up again about being the person who won't get angry, who won't be driven to fear. I will not be convinced to treat others with disdain as if to bring them down. This is an aggressive act and will be seen as an attempt to rise above them, to be the new superior ranking individual. No. I will not be shamed for my niceness. I will embrace it, and I will hope that is can create the change I hope to see in the world because I do have a world vision.

This might sound a bit communist at first, but I want to be passionate about being nice and establishing a more cohesive community-minded society through niceness. Our society is sooo individualistic, and I think that's why capitalism is failing. I believe in capitalism. I believe it is more efficient than government intervention, but I've lost faith in our cultural ability to make capitalism work. Capitalism will always fail as long as some people think that sharing with others is an enabling force and that wealth is somehow a sign of hard work and poverty a sign of laziness.

No money will trickle down from people at the top who look at the bottom and think those people aren't working hard enough or they're not educated enough. Those people at the top (most of them) have never been at the bottom and can't fairly assess the needs of people down there.  If we can change our cultural mindset and recognize the humanity in eachother more through productive communication and niceness, we might actually be able to see capitalism succeed, but successful capitalism requires sharing of wealth, and since we can't be responsible enough to do that on our own, or government is going to have to step in and do it for us.

There are people working for 60 hours a week at 3 part-time jobs, earning minimum wage, and they are making far less than I do but working so much harder. They don't have benefits, and they can keep working that hard until they die, and the will probably never have anything to show for it. And don't blame them for not getting an education. They were lucky to finish high school because they started two of those jobs back then to help their parents pay bills when their younger sibling got sick and there was no insurance to cover it. And if they start dealing drugs or stealing cars and bicycles and reselling them to make money, who can blame them? What other choice did they have for success?

There are people at the top born into so much wealth and privilege, who are generous to the extent that they get a tax break, and whose money is all carefully invested by other people paid to do so. Those people may never have to work in their lives. The work they do, they do so as not to get bored, but they don't know what it's like to be at the bottom. They imagine people at the bottom are lazy and that's why they have no money.

And there are those of us in the middle, feeling like we are so strapped for cash but able to take long hot showers and baths when we want, and buy groceries that we can let go bad and throw away, and afford TV and internet. We manage to not feel guilty about the poor because we think we work hard, and, well, we just try not to think about it so that we can remain comfortable.

We build our own narratives of hard work to convince ourselves of what we deserve. We barrier ourselves from others so that we can stay ignorant and not feel any responsibility. Enough. Let's open the lines and become a real community. You want capitalism to work? Start by being nice.

Watch the Crowd Stalk Its Prey

Gene Wolfe writes in The Shadow of the Torturer: "A crowd is not the sum of the individuals who compose it. Rather it is a species of animal, without language or real consciousness, born when they gather, dying when they depart."

I like that, and I kind of like to think that politics work this way. They are sort of non-physical crowd that has formed but has no real consciousness and though formed of people, it is not a manifestation representative of those people but a separate entity that the people are a part of but intellectually separate from.

 

Religion too can work this way. And yet my favorite saint, Saint Francis de Sales, convinced thousands upon thousands of Calvinists to return to the Catholic Church by the complete opposite argument. His basic idea was this: the Church is composed of its people and staying with the Church and voicing your dissent keeps the Church a stronger unified body working to change itself and improve instead of the Church breaking down into smaller weaker groups. He was operating in the 16th Century, and his belief was the strength and goodness of the people redeemed the Church against the corruption of its leaders at that time.

 

Saint Francis de Sales argument is compelling, and there is a certain strength in a unified body that is willing to self-evaluate and make change, but is it really possible for that sort of group consciousness and self-awareness? Gene Wolfe's character Severian would say it isn't because he sees the crowd for a mindless beast.

 

I think Severian is right. Humans are social creatures (whether or not the American Dream tells us we earn things independently by our own hard effort). We conform to the crowd and lose ourselves within it.

 

So take some time today to look at your crowds, whether they be political, religious, or otherwise, and really think hard on your own independent views. Voice your dissent. Be outspoken. Ensure that your crowd exercises self-awareness, self-evaluation, and the flexibility to change for the better. Don't let it get sucked into tradition as if history alone makes something good and equitable.