The Beautiful OilRig Blanket

Energy Tomorrow is When?

The good "People of America's Oil and Natural Gas Industry"(EnergyTomorrow.org) are having fun painting pretty pictures this summer of the drilling scenario in our coastal waters. The introductory sentence to their magazine ad claims there's enough oil underneath "fragile marine life" "to power more than 60 million cars". It's godsend news because these "undiscovered" mines of "tomorrow's energy" will provide security and economic stimulus for a strongerAmerica.
Of course, while casting the government as the evil leprechaun guarding this pot of gold, they cite a U.S. Department of Energy prediction that 15% more energy will be needed by 2030. Next, they remind the vigilant American consumer, that these two energy saviors (oil, especially) are used to manufacture, transport, store, and operate a majority of the products in your home, on your body, and in the trash heap. I'm no mathematician, but won't that alter their "60 for 60" claim? If these "plentiful domestic oil and natural gas resources" will be used to satisfy the "60 for 60" prediction, where will we derive resources which "make possible our unequaled quality oflife"?
I've overquoted the ad to highlight the language used by the oil industry to sell us this lemon of an energy solution. One which numerous readers of The Coast Star have advocated in writing to the editor, including August 28th's 650-word, spelling bee-caliber rant,"To drill or not to drill". If you're serious about Oil, prove to me that it's with the nation's future in mind, not yours.
Remember that cockamamie idea about installing coastal wind turbines? Remember Shore residents and Ted Kennedy saying they'd ruin the coast's aesthetic appeal? Apparently nobody's seen the dense oil rig layout blanketing the Gulf Coast during recent hurricane coverage(http://terraceadvocate.blogspot.com/). I'm no Martha Stewart, but you have to prove to me that rigging is more appealing than pinwheels, pinwheels spinning around.
We also have a different definition of "tomorrow". If you define "tomorrow" by days, not generations, then you have a point. If rigs were in place and ready to pump tomorrow, Friday, then offshore drilling holds some immediate promise. But they're not, and they'd require a huge investment into something we know is going to disappear. It's like giving a gift of Mets' tickets, for the 2015 season, which are only redeemable at Shea Stadium.
Claiming that oil is tomorrow's energy solution is completely preposterous. While investing in a vanishing resource likely will not be detrimental to anyone currently alive, years from now America will be run on something other than oil, and I doubt it'll be Dunkin. If we are, as we claim, society builders, then we have a huge responsibility.
How will the history books or Tom Brokaw of 2150 remember ourgeneration? Will we be ones who foretold the future and allowed it to transpire in favor of gluttony and selfishness? Or will we be ones who embraced the uncertainty associated with change and re-educated ourselves to a life of sustainability?
Cynicism says selfishness will conquer.

Accord of Blatant Courtesy

Where'd all the Good People Go?

The telltale sign of summer weekends used to be idiocy on usually-tepid roadways; if you were tailgated in a school zone or honked at for not flooring it at a green light, a Benny was surely the culprit. The nomenclature seemed less a classification of a northern visitor than a term describing someone who violated intimate Shorelife. Once Monday morning dawned, a collective sigh of relief from the locals provided a Parkway tailwind for homeward-bound Benny holdouts.

Now, that collective sigh is full of hot air. The cry of "Benny Go Home!" seems little more than a hypocritical, bumpersticker catchphrase which selfishly boasts Shore Status, not Shore Pride. While there was a time when we wished Monday morning would restore our family- and community-centric lifestyle, Monday's just another manic day.

Life, specifically travel, doesn't get easier when Benny leaves. Roads are less voluminous, but drivers are equally selfish and careless. The person in front of you can't drive fast enough, and you can't drive fast enough for the driver behind you. There's as great a chance of being sadistically tailed by a street-sweeper on Tuesday as a token, NY-plated Escalade on Saturday.

So why force Benny home? Are we the only ones allowed to drive maniacally, to disregard pedestrians, to toss cigarette butts curbward from our own downtown shops, or treat others like un-important obstacles in our, apparently, very important lives?

I don't expect to exterminate this self-absorption as easily as we have the deer population. But I want those old values prominently displayed again, and I want Shore purists – the ones who love this place for the beautiful, intimate mix of nature it is – to lead. There's no better example of this social disintegration then driving etiquette, and I offer this attempt at a solution. Sign my Accord of Blatant Courtesy and unite, locals, to save the Shore.

Repeat after me: "I, (state your name), a Jersey Shore lover, promise, to the best of my ability, to uphold the Shore principles of intimacy, courtesy, and family. I will do this while traveling through local hamlets by:

1. Abiding by the definition of "limit". I understand that a limit is a maximum, and around here, the faster I drive, the sooner I'll end up running into a traffic light or another's rearview mirror.
2. Applying my indicator before, not during, a turn. I understand that other drivers have eyes and can see my auto turning, but, unless they are Miss Cleo, are unable to read my mind and prepare accordingly.
3. Stopping, completely, at all indicated signs. I understand that gliding my auto's nose into an intersection not only endangers myself but also scares the pants off other drivers.
4. Granting right-of-way to left-turning drivers. I understand that, especially at intersections, I'm able to restrain an entire traffic pattern, and emancipate oncoming traffic, by this simple action.
5. Yielding to pedestrians. I understand that the absence of wheels beneath their feet doesn't make them less important.
6. Waving.

(---)

If you wish to sign this agreement, simply post a response to this blog post. If I were more internet-savvy, I'd find a place to start an online petition or something, but I'm not, so let's keep it simple. But who knows, maybe in the next two days I'll find one. Thanks.

Where'd that Accord Come From?

The idea for the Accord of Blatant Courtesy, and the subsequent letter it appears in, was definitely influenced by two specific events, but the truth of its message is reitterated on a daily basis by friends, family, and strangers alike. The first event was referenced in the letter, the second was too ridiculous to expand on for my 500 word limit. But here goes.
While driving home from church one early afternoon a licence-plateless vehicle appears in my rearview mirror with a handicapped tag hanging from its own rearview. I stop at a pedestrian crosswalk to allow two girls to cross from another church into the town square, and this is not something my Rearview Amigo is fond of. He continues to follow close behind as we approach town, and tightly trails me through two turns. Oh yeah, he's toting two jetskis on a trailer. That's right, handicapped tag + jetskis = either tremendous foreshadowing or tag abuse. So I maintain the speed limit to the max, much to the chagrine of Rearview Amigo, stop at another crosswalk, and proceed home with him close behind. He is not happy. He yells from his window, something unintelligible, as I turn on my street and I shout back, "Slow down." Why is a handicapped person in such a rush to get his 2 jetskis into the water? And if so, why is he using residential roads?
I leave Rt. 34 Landscape Supply with a bed-full of brown dyed mulch (which is really of no consequence). I reach a travel road at the same time a Wall Public Works Streetsweeper reaches the road 20 feet away from the recycling center. He will be traveling my direction as I turn onto the road, and I use him as blocker to ease my heavy load into the roadway. Before my blinker can hit its automatic shutoff position, Streetsweeper has filled my rearview mirror with this steed and my ears with his horn. Granted, the speed limit on the road is 40mph. But I had no idea Streetsweeper had the pickup of a funny car. Who was driving that thing, John Force? And where's the respect of fellow service workers?
Anyway, those were my two wake-up calls. Thanks for reading!

(---)

Sign the Accord of Blatant Courtesy!

Brad Pitt, Ajax, & Mitzy

I'd come to the basement to print some pics of Jess and me at St. Lucia, the site of our honeymoon: two years chronologically, seemingly many socially. I was not about to listen to Mike & the Mad Dog blather at 1030 pm. Instead I found an impending duel twixt two apparent Greek men.
One man was called "prince of Troy" by the other, who'd now revealed himself to be Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt's hot (that IS the appropriate social response, no?). Since I had no previous knowledge or witness of this movie, I assumed it to be Troy.
The men fought with staffs and large shields, and both had removed their helmets in a show of manhood. From the top of a large castle wall, Orlando Bloom winced far too many times for someone who lived in this historical period; were battles like this so rare or spontaneous or unexpected? Other than the over exaggeration of their knife's slashes by the special effects crew, the battle was enjoyable and an unseen perspective of this period's happenings. (Spoiler alert.) When Pitt finally swirled his body and severed staff into the left shoulder of Troy's prince, the onlookers shook in disbelief, and watched as Pitt hogtied the fallen prince and dragged him away behind his horse-driven carriage. It was one of the more definitive and baddass(?) battle victories I can remember (yeah, even better than Daniel San's bodybagging of Johnnie).

(...)

It was then a noise from upstairs broke my concentration and reminded me that I was alone in my parents house (which, after 29 years, still makes my mind broadcast "victim" stories like the evening news). All I found was Ajax, my faithful cat of 19 years.

A card in my parents laundry room said: "Dogs come when they are called. Cats take a message and get back to you." Not Ajax. With Ajax, you always know what you're getting into. A lap at the dinner table is not a show of affection; it's a strategic maneuver. An admonishment or removal from an unfeline food source is not a lesson learned for Ajax; it is a nonmemory in his selective goldfish brain. Want a cat to hold, or pet, or squeeze, or kiss, or cry to, or model after? That's Ajax.

(...)

Mitzy? She's as predictable as the water faucets she's so enamored with.

(...)

I've grown weary. My purpose in writing tonight was to try and discuss Jessie's question to me about the Cyclone in Myanmar: "100,000? How does that happen?" I imagined our homes built of sticks and plywood and leaves and mud and stone and prayers. And I imagined our roads as riverbeds. And I thought that was a good place to start a comparison.

And then Brad Pitt took his helmet off, and those golden locks blew in the wind, and he stabbed the prince of Troy in the center of his chest and my brain waves went awry. Damn you Brad Pitt.

A freshman perspective

There has been no new news about the unfortunate death of Tim Schenke - nothing concrete that is, only rumors and allegations. A friend, who I'll call Ralph, is a student at the high school and one of my student's in our high school ministry at church. He contacted me yesterday by text with a simple question: "Do people who commit suicide go to hell?" What a complicated question. I told Ralph that Tim had a lot of things going on in his head that God never intended him, or anyone, to deal with, and that God wouldn't fault him or punish him for succumbing. Am I right? Now, I could have read passages in the Bible and consult my pastors and get all sorts of answers on the subject to tell Ralph. Before I met with him I did ask my uncle, the pastor of Journey 2L2 church outside Princeton and author of What if You Pray. In so many words, he said that although the Bible is against suicide, and he believes we are "wired" to do whatever possible to preserve ourselves, he considers suicide similar to a stroke or heart attack: a failure of a vital organ; in this case the brain. See, I don't see suicide as an human fault; I see it as society's fault. It was asked after Tim died how it could happen. Student's were shocked; they never saw it coming. Maybe others saw warning signs; who knows. Point is, this is a person who, by all accounts, had everything. He was a top-rated academic, a solid athlete, attractive, and in the fall would attend a college he was given a large scholarship to. He had achieved most things we consider adolescent milestones in our society. The question is: did he have everything? Ralph's a good student, and I finished 13th in my class; we both know how difficult it is, or must be, to maintain a near-perfect academic record. Add to that a legitimate athletic career, a job, and a popular social life, and there's a full plate. Are all these things really worth the effort? In schools, we want our students to be proficient in everything. We want Math/History/English/Science/Athletic/Artistic scholars. And we don't teach them appreciation, in most cases, we teach them facts and inapplicable information that they're graded on but which has little affect on their lives. Education is an information competition. Just as in athletics, where kids don't play sports anymore because they're fun, but because they can win championships and earn scholarships and get into more prominent colleges and maybe land in a professional sport that'll pay them ridiculous sums of money to be perfect athletes. Life is always about the next step, about getting the promotion, the raise, the new car, the bigger home, the broader portfolio, the hot electronic ... the hottest mate? Nothing is about contentment; rarely do we rest on the 7th day.

(...)

I wasn't sure how to address the issue with Ralph; I'm not a counselor or pastor. But I do have a lot of feelings on the subject, and many related to it have come up this week while pondering and discussing Into the Wild (I slid into rants in a worship planning meeting with my fellow youth leaders, our head pastor, and three of our student leaders, and during my presentation of my Into the Wild paper before fellow future educators). But I didn't want to come off to Ralph as a raving lunatic. We talked generally and he shared a few thoughts about Tim. I asked him what he thought was the biggest pressure he faced daily; he said "fitting in". And there it was, the answer I expected. Our society doesn't foster "fitting in". We're always looking for ways to tinker, improve, change ourselves to please others. I never knew Tim; maybe he made me a black-and-white milkshake once or twice. He played society's game perfectly. He'd done everything asked of him. And yet, he was extremely unhappy. He joined the other people who've become disheartened by this difficult place, who've played the game and have felt suffocated by it. They drop out of their homes (like Chris McCandless), they drop out of school, or they drop out of their lives. And it's not their fault.

(...)

A weird thing happened while looking for my uncle's book online. Upon searching "What if you pray" a website came up, apparently it was a suicide information site. I avoided getting too deep into it because it's close to bedtime and my brain does mean things in my dreams. However I did scroll down far enough to see that the webmaster, creator, voice of the site is a man named Ralph.

Young man lost

On Saturday April 26, a senior at Manasquan High School stepped in front of a train in his hometown of Spring Lake. He was an honor student, sports captain, and all-around, well-liked boy. Here's the brief, and the obituary. I hope tomorrow's Coast Star, our local paper, will have some more detailed information. Some students I spoke, who knew him at the school, said they were shocked; they never saw it coming. Maybe others, family perhaps, did. I don't know.
What I do know is that it is unacceptable.
Certainly we do not accept suicide. But it happens, and it's happening more often than we'd like. I said yesterday, while giving a presentation in my Content Literacy class on Into the Wild, that I've come to the realization that during my time as an educator, one of my students will probably commit suicide and others will add to a national drop-out rate that continues to rise. (My professor confirmed that she'd had a student suicide during her teaching career and statistics she calculated said we'd probably all have one.)
It just seems amazing that our society can look at these problems, along with depression and a slew of other mental disorders, and shrug as if to say, "well, I guess that's life."
When are we going to realize that our pursuits are in vain? That we're chasing an unattainable goal and killing ourselves in the process?
Dr. Quinn (not the medicine woman) talks about this a lot, the idea of disenchantment, but it's always alarming to see it in practice. Give someone a hug today. It may be corny, but just do it ... please.

On Education

This month in my recurring monthly letter to the editor I took a shot at defending the public education system. School budget and board of education voting has just passed, and after hearing enough negativity about the schools, like on the Brielle Forum, I decided to enter the foray. I'm not sure what we think the point of public education, or even private, is anymore, but it seems it's become something kids do daily to take tests, get a diploma, get into a college, and get a job. In other words, it's become something to promote the system. I didn't get that blunt or societally negative in my letter.
But there is something to be said about our priorities and how our increasing perception of ourselves as rulers of our little individual kingdoms has only forced more divides between the people of our society. Also, I don't understand the negativity toward educators. In a society where we value people according to the amount of money they're paid, it's alarming that educators are near the bottom.
Anyway, take a read and let me know what you think.

(...)

A few years ago a commercial aired depicting a staring match between two ethnically-diverse boys. Gradually, fellow students amass behind them, as if to watch and assist their blinkless classmate. A roar erupts from the Asian group, a groan from the Caucasians, as the White boy’s concentration falters. The shot pans away as students clamber to their seats in two distinct classrooms and you realize that the playfully-competing students are actually worlds apart.
The ad’s purpose, of course, is to sell a fancy television with video conferencing capabilities used in the business and political world. The pie-in-the-sky implication is that this scene could actually be played out in our classrooms. Could you imagine if our students had a personal relationship with Middle-Eastern schoolchildren, for instance? What would that do for their global perceptions? Would a Middle-Eastern student second-guess his/her decision to join Al Qaeda if he/she had a personal relationship with the infidels?
I’m dreaming of course (?), but that’s my point: fancy televisions are more prevalent in our homes then our schools. We’ll allow ourselves to dream big in our individual lives, but place limits on what services and materials our educators want to utilize. Come February, Uncle Sam is all but requiring that you buy that television to watch MTV Cribs, and I wonder how that will affect school budgets.
A surprising majority of budgets passed last week, and that was awesome and maybe a hopeful sign. Next year, like every year, will the fight over public education will be as predictable as the daffodils’ bloom?
Have we forgotten the purpose of public education: to reflect and teach the knowledge and values of our society? Do educators enter the field for any other purpose than to show children how to communicate, how their bodies work, how our society works, or how to evoke their inner being? Unlike most other “needs”, public education is not a business that reaps a profit nor does it exist purely for the benefit of the individual. Public education is vital to our society’s advancement and existence.
If we want to discuss societal problems like substance abuse, energy dependence, global warming, or anything else that a new President will change next year, then we have to do so as a society. We cannot do that if we pit the one thing whose function is to enrich and improve society in a staring match against individual materialism. On average, we were asked to sacrifice one spa treatment, one designer outfit, gas to drive one mile per day, two professional lawn services, or one Aquafina bottle per week. One material thing is more important than keeping our societal education up to par?
The next time public educators ask for the same luxuries as private homes, before we call them greedy, lazy and petty for reminding us that education is about children (otherwise, what’s its purpose?), let’s start by acknowledging the real problem: we’re addicted to ourselves.
Hi; my name is Andrew, and I’m a recovering selfaholic.

Philly mess

No, this isn't about the recently-completed Democratic Presidential primary yesterday.
I went to the Mets game at Citizen's Bank Park Sunday night against the Phillies and I don't think I've seen a more depressed group of people; maybe when looking at Dust Bowl / Great Depression pictures. There had to be something mentally wrong with these people, or else they just think the point of paying money to attend a ballgame is to get drunk on $7 beers and shout every explicative and derogatory phrase they've ever heard.
Of course, I had my Edgardo Alfonzo #13 jersey on, and none of the fans knew who Fonzy was because they could barely assemble a competitive team in the mid and late 1990s, so that didn't help the atmosphere. And my brother had his David Wright jersey on, but neither of us engaged with the fans at all, so they said they their unintelligible slop and moved on.
I guess there was a huge fight Saturday afternoon that actually spilled onto the field, but here are three scenes I saw Sunday night:

1. Two fans start berating each other with words relating to sexual orientation. Apparently this has nothing to do with the Mets or Mets fans. Closer examination shows that they are both Philly fans AND are both wearing Chase Utley jerseys.
2. One Philly fan is so drunk that he goes from cursing the Mets fans behind him, to standing for an entire inning screaming expletives into his cellphone but also, somehow, at the Mets fans, to being booed by fellow Philly fans, to getting himself and his three buddies ejected from the game.
3. A poor father sitting a few seats over from me brings his four, maybe five year old daughter to the game and has to hold her ears most of the time. Being a father of an up-and-coming Mets fan, I couldn't have felt more uncomfortable for that guy.

"Stuff" and "Into the Wild"

On the advice of My Cohort, I finally sat down and watched The Story of Stuff Saturday morning. Actually, I stood up and watched it as my wireless's best connection was by the window. Aside from the aroma of Calvin's masticated food wafting up my nose early in the morning, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
I immediately recognized the value of "Stuff" when Annie said our society's expecting a linear system to operate in a finite space indefinitely. Being an aspiring math teacher, this was music to my ears. Probably since the third reading of Ishmael and the first of The End of Nature, my view of our "situation" has been filled with images of graphs and areas and other mathematical representations that model the problems we're facing. The viewing gave me tremendous inspiration to put this video into my classroom and really show some applicable connections of math to life.
The parts that spoke the most to me were the mentions of how society has bought into the system and has turned "keeping up with the times" into the moral and popular thing to do. I loved hearing how the heels of women's shoes aren't researched for effectiveness; they're changed year to year to keep the shoe designers in business and new products on the shelves. I've argued in our local paper for a year now (yes, my voice is new to this arena) that our energy and environmental troubles are partially solvable by our own actions. Yet, we rely on the government to make changes for us and blame huge corporations for pollution while not doing anything ourselves to make a difference.
I'm not giving the government a pass by any stretch, but supply is driven by demand, and if we didn't demand more, more, more, we'd be in a better persuasive position over the government and corporations to make change themselves. We don't have to build bigger homes, drive bigger cars, commute all over God's creation, fertilize the hell out of our lawns, bow to bottled water, or cycle through electronics and home goods like they're going out of style, but unfortunately we do believe things are going out of style and we'll die if we don't keep up with them.

(---)

Jessie and I watched Into the Wild that night and it was a great addendum to the Story of Stuff rhetoric earlier in the day. (As an aside, Jessie watched "Stuff" in the afternoon, and unfortunately was feeding Greysen at the same time. Watch, and you'll know why it was a little uncomfortable (there's a drawing of a woman with skull-and-crossbones for breasts)). Into the Wild is easily one of Jessie's favorite books, and I am currently halfway through the text myself. We've heard from friends who've read it, and the sentiment is certainly a theme in Jon Krakauer's text, that Chris McCandless was a nutt, lunatic, idiot, and moron for running away from society and subjecting himself to uncertain peril. There are those who feel he was mentally unstable and should have been more respectful of his parents than to leave them unaware of his situation. As a lover and appreciator of my family, I may agree with the latter to an extent.

But to suggest that McCandless was anything but a rational, albeit overzealous, person is preposterous. This explanation for his decision to tackle Alaska and expel worldly possessions seems purely driven by the cultural mindset that we all are supposed to be robotic consumers and our purpose in life is to claim and attain. There are so many youth out there who are suddenly becoming blindsided by this cultural mindset that, after spending 15 years of relative joy as an unencumbered, responsibility-less person, the rest of their life will be spent working to the hilt accumulating possessions that will never be enough for society's approval. College is no longer about furthering an education in an area they desire (if it ever was) but rather about finding a job they can tolerate that will pay them well. They have been taught that possessions and things will give them happiness, but have failed to see that they are not happy now, and will never have enough things or enough of the right things to make them truly happy.

That is where The Story of Stuff gets its influence and inspiration: by exposing and breaking apart this machine that pads the pockets of those at the top while making those at the bottom toil for its success. McCandless may not have understood the linear system proposed by "Stuff". But he did know how meaningless material possessions were, and he did understand how they tore apart his family. His only mistake was believing that he could find happiness on his own (despite making many valuable personal contacts on his brief journey), a mistake he acknowledges sadly in his final moments.

We can't do this on our own, but together, we can move mountains (not just blow them up).

Like a Pirate in a Restaurant

They say a man should always dress for the job he wants. So why was I dressed up like a pirate in a restaurant, you ask? Well, it was all because this hacker stole my identity, and so I had to go in every evening to sell chowder and iced tea.
I should have gone to free credit report dot com. I would have seen it coming at me like an atom bomb. They'd monitor my credit and give me email alerts, so I wouldn't end up selling fish to tourists in tee shirts.
So the question for free credit report dot com is: Why do I have to feel like a schmuck if I want to sell fish to tourists in tee shirts? How come waiter or waitress is not considered a legitimate profession? If these people are such low-lifes or losers, what does it say about the people that rely on them to serve them food?

We have an image problem in our culture, and we no longer feel that people should have a service profession as their career. We're infatuated with career, and everybody has to be something when they grow up, and make a name for themselves. It's along the same lines as the comparison between renting and owning a home; renters suck and are worthless if you were wondering.
But we have an increasingly stricter template to choose careers from. They say the immigration problem is driven by the amount of jobs that are available that Americans don't want.
Why don't Americans want certain jobs? What's wrong with being a landscaper? A dishwasher? A house cleaner?
There's more to this, including the hierarchy we follow and the amount of influence money has on our culture (and I'm especially brief because I'm strapped for time but am making a concerted effort to maintain a daily rhetoric). But we don't allow people to be happy with 'bottom-rung' jobs or even feel useful in society if they maintain these positions. We hold doctors and lawyers and CEOs and athletes with the highest regard, and it shows with the amount of money paid to each of these people.

But why do people bitch about teachers getting "summer's off" but say nothing about athletes whose season lasts 5 months?

Broad Street Blitz

I found myself outside, walking, for the first time last year after having my gal bladder removed. I was en route to meet Jessie downtown, and a mile walk was good for my rehabbing body. Chances are, I was looped on a painkiller at the time, and these suspicions were justified with the forthcoming list's presence on the back of an oxycodone description sheet.

• hanger
• blue solo cup
• dog poop
• cigarette butt
• 7-11 coffee cup
• pen (empty)
• plastic clothing tag
• cigarette butt
• Full Throttle can (crushed)
• Coors Light can (smashed)
• plastic bottle safety seal

The question I posed to my medicated self was: "What's the problem: No trash cans or no self control?

What you mention, Willbergh, outside your store window is alarming, and I laughed when I read about the McDonald's bag because I just saw one today, full, in Monmouth's parking lot and used similar references in a letter a few months ago: Sanity Amidst Ignorance. I don't know what the answer is either, but there's a few things we've discussed that speak to the cause.

1. There's an obvious disconnect between humans and the environment. For the most part, this isn't the 1980s and Billy Joel's not lamenting about syringes in the ocean. I actually remember being banned from some beaches because of polution, and it was unfortunate that it took something that severe or alarming to alert people to the situation. But people did actually see what happened when we were careless.
2. There's certainly a lack of responsiblity. The only people you see picking up trash have orange jump suits. We're very much a culture that throws its hands to the air and plays the role of Bart as the I Didn't Do It Boy. It's always somebody else's problem.
3. There's not enough time to be responsible. People have way too many other things going on to be globally responsible, and many times it's more time efficient to be sloppy. I need look no farther than the clothes pile next to my bed to illustrate that.
4. And the saddest thing ... it's not our problem. Like I said yesterday, it's going to be our girls' problem, if not their kids or their kids. We definitely define our as "people who live from now until I'm dead." There is very little thought toward our ancestors, and it's a shame considering the high regard with which we hold our Founding Fathers. We believe they made decisions and sacrifices for us, meaning you and me and everybody (alive NOW).

Maybe that's it. Maybe we need to believe that we are the new Founding Fathers!

The Wayne's World Effect

I remember as a little kid being nervous about spitting on the ground because somewhere in my brief social education I was told that it was illegal. Whether that was true or not, I have no idea. But still to this day whenever I contemplate hocking a loog, I ask myself if it's really necessary, or right, or appropriate.
It's a small, probably meaningless, act, but nonetheless, every time I spit, a little conversation about social appropriateness runs through my head.
I bring this up because I get borderline nauseaus when someone tosses a cig butt onto the ground. Butt tossing has become something that people don't even think twice about anymore. Whereas I used to think before every time (maybe a slight exaggeration) I spat, I can't imagine that people actually rationalize their decision to dispose of their waste so casually and carelessly. If they did, if they actually took time to ask themselves if throwing their butt on the ground was their best option, then why did they choose "Yes"? What other option was worse than that?
This is important because I don't believe people think about decisions as small as this anymore. I don't believe that most smokers take time to decide what to do with their butts any more than a knee decides to do when tapped with a pointy hammer. Littering has become second nature, almost a motor reflex of sorts.

(---)

A friend mentioned a conversation he had with a friend of his, recently, on a drive while smoking a cigarette. He said he'd never taken much thought to people's decision to casually toss a spent butt out the window when finished, but felt compelled to advise his copilot not to. They found an empty water bottle and made good use of it.
The seemingly insignificant scene resulted in a lengthy conversation about waste and polution between two people who'd never engaged in such a conversation before. It seemed for that one moment, a mind had been changed. My friend and I wondered what his companion did the next time he was in the car, smoking a cig. Did their previous drive have any lasting impressions, or did the next cig find a place on the curb?
I guess that's the only hope we can all have as warriors against ignorance and apathy: the Wayne's World Effect. It's the hope that if we convince one person, then they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends. It's the same way we got into this mess in the first place; someone convinced someone else that one thing was right and they believed it.
Damn there's a lot of $h!t to clean up.

Less is More

This letter will not be a literary gem by Andy-standards; it’s more-or-less a necessity to attain restful sleep again. For three weeks I’ve brainstormed a rebuttal to March 6th’s letter to the editor, “It’s the Economy, Stupid”, but I’ve struggled to trim 3000 words down to 500; there’re too many claims made that contradict issues I’ve previously discussed, albeit backhandedly, rhetorically or overly poetically at times.

In doing so, I’ve included my email address because I believe a conversation is needed to credibly address the social problems we all recognize but which “Stupid” claims will be fixed by taking control of our own oil production and lynching environmentalists.

“Stupid” wants you to believe that since global warming is a farce we should continue to rape oil fields and stop wasting precious farmland on biofuel production. It’s based on tailored research (http://ideonexus.com/2008/03/05/hey-everybody-its-another-global-cooling-report/), the kind I’d use to claim that since I held my breath for 40 seconds I died.

“Stupid” essentially employs a staying-the-course rationale; rationale which President Bush is endlessly mocked for but also one which we have applied to for much longer than eight years. It plays to our simple yet spiritually-contradictory belief that money will solve our problems.

I continually beg for feedback because I’m not seeing solutions to social problems by expanding homes, expending more energy, and extending the class divides we somehow believe is a part of a harmonious society. I honestly don’t see the point in studying the failures of social/political systems like Feudalism in schools or praising Moses for wrestling his people from the Pharaohs in church if we simultaneously educate our children that their worth in life is based on the amount of capital they accumulate and status they socially earn.

“Stupid” says our impending food crisis will be averted by ceasing the biofuel movement, yet says nothing about the homes that have devoured nearly every piece of farmland in our surrounding communities.

Want to discuss our food crisis?

First recognize that land is increasingly being used more for storing people and food than is being used producing food. Add in the mindset that every person is supposed to live this way unless they want to be considered uncivilized or third-world. Couple in the component that our system is fueled by oil, a substance of recognizably limited quantity, and what you have is a system which either devours every parcel used to produce a true life necessity or which selfishly depletes its food transportation, production, and storage mechanism.

Like I said, I may have been more articulate in the past, but I’ve done so out of fear of offending. After hearing enough ridiculous yet same-ol’ suggestions for societal change, seeing Manasquan withstand three bomb-scares in a month, and watching Wall tackle social problems by eliminating student counselor positions, I’m deciding to say something redonculous myself. Time and lives are a wastin’.

It's the Economy, Stupid by Robert D'Andrea

A recent article [www.dailytech.com], dated Feb. 26, explains that world temperatures over the past year have dropped precipitously according to all the four major global temperature-tracking networks [Hadly, NASA's giss, UAH and RSS]. NOAA states that carbon dioxide has only increased by 1.5 ppm per year for the past 50 years, or about a total of 74 ppm. This insignificant rise is not enough to be the cause of global warming because as the carbon dioxide levels slowly increased, the temperature levels should also increase -- and they have, until last year. The temperature levels are now decreasing. This shows that carbon dioxide is not the cause of global warming.

This opens the door to tap our own oil and gas resources and resolve our increasing economic and social problems, not only for New Jersey, but also for our nation. President Bush has always said that it is time to end our dependence on foreign oil and gas and start developing and using our own resources.

This will break the OPEC monopoly they have on us, and the price of oil will decrease. Remember, voters are already worried about the economy, inflation and the high cost of gasoline and food. The farmers are happy with wheat at $25 a bushel. Wait until we get the bread bill. We must also help alleviate an impending food shortage crisis that is being caused by diverting acreage to bio fuels.

Producing more of our own oil and gas, will keep $400 billion per year to be used here and not given to the terrorist and dictators. Our third world "friends" will benefit with affordable energy and we will alleviate hunger if we start planting more crops for food -- not fuel.

Maybe Gov. Corzine's budget would benefit from offshore drilling. Alaska does. If nothing is done now, I hope you are not planning on staying in office for long, because alternative furls and energy systems are years away. I hope the environmentalists, who got us into this mess, will start walking to save energy for the rest of us. Remember, "it is the economy, stupid," and it is based on oil and gas.

ROBERT D'ANDREA
Vroom Avenue, Spring Lake

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See Tadvocate's Rebuttal

Cha cha cha cha Changes

Have you noticed "change" thrown around ad nauseum recently? While every presidential candidate has adopted "change" as a pivotal plank in each's political platform, have they simultaneously underestimated each American's ability to be the change they wish to see in their own lives? What will change in a year that Americans can't change for themselves today?

Regardless of the person elected: will a new health care system still allow some medical professionals to treat humans like cash cows? Should we expect any less when we ask them to play God but sue their pants off when they fail?

Will celebrity worship continually redefine the American Dream as an unattainable apex some will conquer while others crumble in their wake? Does every person need a personal bathroom, bedroom and entertainment center, or is this just what the Real Housewives of Orange County have redefined as "needs" for us? Have you seen the ads that depict the internet inaccessible cell phone user as a dog or the ones where the poor boob is persecuted by his friends for not seeing in HD?

Will we relentlessly enslave ourselves in an economythat relies upon daily pocket-purging in pursuit of the trophy given to he who dies with the most toys?

Is it a mystery that our brains' increasingly depend on medication to maintain sanity? Are brain difficulties increasing because of increased scientific recognition or because of the stress that accumulates questing for the impossible dream?

Will we repeatedly expect our teachers to educate our children into high-paying professions but scoff at them when they ask for raises that barely cover union dues? Why, when social status is determined by the amount of significant figures on our paycheck, do teachers have bottom-dweller status? If education was a top priority in our society, why do educators have to grovel for the proper classroom support necessary to educate the mentally-diverse in "regular" classrooms?

Will we constantly be baffled by youth who become more promiscuous earlier in life while their adolescent media mirrors – Lindsay Lohan, Hilary Duff, Britney Spears, the Olsen twins – develop into teenage sex symbols? Is Hannah Montana next? Is it coincidence that watching a High School Musical may turn you into a Desperate Housewife?

Will we add to the list of attributes – fat, ugly, weak, slow, unpopular, stupid, prude, poor – we judge ourselves by? Does it make any sense that students should be absent with fear from school because they lack new shoes? How long would you last as a loser and failure before you snapped?

Can't we be the ones who make smarter decisions about our personal energy consumption? Can't we empower our children to love the reflection in the mirror and not the ad in the magazine? Can't we redefine the American Dream as one which satisfies a personally-defined happiness checklist and not one which drives us debt-ward to fulfill an expanding materialistic one? Can't we do these things without feeling un-American? And can't we do them now?

Yes we can.

Remembering the Three Rs

(Originally written July 29, 2007)

Mr. Robinson, I’ve excitedly anticipated your July 26 continuation of our global warming discussion (“Global Warming Not A Threat To Shore – Terrorists Are”).

I agree that Al Gore is a life-long politician. But if I believed that politicians selfishly based every decision on political advancement instead of scientific evidence or moral basis, I’d have an overly cynical view of both our system and people in general. I can be cynical, but I have limits. Al Gore is no more the end-all-be-all of global warming theory than is Richard Lindzen. Instead of volleying expert’s opinions which both support and oppose global warming theories, I’ll concede that global warming influences remain debatable and explore a tangential issue from my last submission.

The alluded-to feces emanate from Wreck Pond. They’ve closed beaches over the past few years and have prompted the extension of the recently-completed outfall pipe. Although the convenient fecal culprits are geese, water quality tests have shown that human waste constituted as much as 85% of the bacteria. The tampon I referred to was identified by my wife as a Tampax Pearl and the beach was Trenton Blvd. in Sea Girt. I agree; conditions are better than those referenced in Billy Joel’s lament, “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” But even if we didn’t start the fire, should we be moved to grab skewers and marshmallows?

The point is that a natural environment stands no chance in our cultural environment. I’m not placing guilt for Americans’ inherited lifestyle. I’m not criticizing or discounting anyone’s admirable, Johnny Appleseed-esque resume. Rather, I’m trying to raise awareness of our profound influence on the environment that sustains us; the one that’s routinely subservient to culture. I’m trying to rekindle an oft-ignored “R”: responsibility.

Readers: Please speak up (terraceadvocate@gmail.com) if the following emotions elicit any sympathies, empathies, or apathies.

I’m disgusted when cigarette butts are thrown from car windows. I’m tired of finding A.B.C. gum while making sandcastles with my niece. I’m confused when environmentalists can support drilling in a wildlife refuge. I’m repulsed by Freehold’s pillaging of open spaces in favor of bland, energy-sucking, unsold monstrosities. I’m appalled when sprinklers run during downpours. I’m flabbergasted by my town’s plan to “encourage the development of continuous wildlife corridors” by converting every inch of acreage on RT. 34 into office complexes. I don’t know where “reduce” went.

We consistently allow ourselves to rationalize environmental responsibility. It’s ok to occasionally throw bottles in the trash because we recycle most of the time; it’s reasonable to remove trees if they inhibit power lines; it’s legitimate to eliminate “unproductive” acreage because real estate generates money. We fear global warming theory because it’s incorrectly implied that we scrap our culture and resume rubbing sticks on stone. Like environmental responsibility, the opposition will always defend itself with a human caveat: we will defend nature as long as it stays out of our way, serves our needs, and keeps its mouth shut when we need to punish it.

I warned you about my cynicism.

Here's to You, Mr. Robinson

(Originally written June 21, 2007)
Within the first 15 words of the 6/7/07 submission to the Editor (Keep the Global Warming Debate Open), Mr. Robinson said two agreeable things: there should be a continuing debate, and it is a social issue. So here’s to you, Mr. Robinson.

After that, the text provided an excellent start to this debate.

Let’s get Al Gore out of the way first. Refer to Time’s 5/28/07 article, “the Last Temptation of Al Gore.” He does fly regularly but predominantly via commercial air and as a result buys carbon offsets. He and his wife do drive SUVs, but both are hybrids. He does live in a mansion, a renovated, 1915 home (an idea – renovation and preservation – which has become taboo in our area) and pays 10x the average energy bill because the house is powered by completely renewable energy sources. And, it is neither a surprise, nor a dig, that he pledged not “use energy the same as the rest of us do,” because, quite frankly, we waste it.

Which introduces vital questions about our debate: are we debating global warming as a human-caused phenomenon or debating our society’s global responsibility?

To the first question: let’s assume, as you propose, the scientists we are blindly following on the evening news are 100% wrong and our carbon-dioxide producing society is not influencing the Earth’s inevitable warming. What other information do scientists have wrong? Does pollution really affect our health? Is coal power really dirty? Are oil reserves really going to disappear? Or, as claimed, is global warming another construction of the global citizenry to curb an American society which accounts for 6% of the world population yet consumes 40% of its resources?

Well, if the U.N. wanted to stop the world from having an influence on American society, they should start by blocking importation of electronics, furniture, clothes, and autos that define our extravagant lifestyle. But that’s a different debate. We still want all those things (because we’re American and we deserve them), we just want them for ourselves. It’s the biggest problem with the global warming debate: we rationalize it for our selfishness.

We don’t want our “pristine” beaches affected by contaminants from filthy geese, but we can’t keep our own feces and tampons out of the water. We complain about energy prices, but the homes we build consume twice the energy of those which formerly stood in their place. We ponder vanishing petroleum and rising costs as we sip our Poland Spring bottles and lament the dilemma facing Africans who can’t find clean drinking water.

Do you remember the anti-drug commercial with the famous line, “I learned it by watching you!”? How can we condemn China for using coal power even though our economy was built the same way? Maybe our cloudy mirror is hiding the truth.

What’s the debate, Mr. Robinson? Are we fighting for society (our “right” to waste in extravagance as the world wallows) or for humanity (our existence on the only known planet with sustainable life)?

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See Mr. Robinson's Rebuttal

Sanity Amidst Ignorance

(Originally written August 25, 2007)

I have three “hypothetical” situations that require legal and social guidance.

First: I am stopped at a traffic light along RT. 71 in Spring Lake at 3:30pm on a dreary Thursday afternoon and (remember, all hypotheticals) the man driving the black Chevy Silverado behind me casually throws his still-lit cigarette out the window. Am I “legally” allowed to get out of my car and throw it back in his window? What if I promise to tamp it out first? If I provide his license plate number can you print it (in a 72pt. bold, serif font) and encourage other citizens to throw cigarettes at him?

Second: a young lady (again, hypothetically tailgating me) manages to lay on her horn while talking on her cell phone (obviously forgetting the 10-and-2 rule) because I stopped at an intersection on Main Street in Belmar in front of the Boathouse to allow a mother pushing a stroller (not hypothetically) to cross the street in the cross walk. Since I am without a horn that blares from my tailpipe, shouldn’t I elicit some sort of response? Certainly I couldn’t slap a boot on her tire and The CLUB on her steering wheel and put her in a “time-out”, could I? What are the legal repercussions if I, say, put my wife’s car in reverse and give the talking honker a friendly “hello”? Should I run this by my wife first?

Third: it’s raining, and has been for days, yet I still can’t drive anywhere in this town without finding some green thumb running lawn sprinklers. Can I smash the sprinklers with a baseball bat? How about a hoe? Please … it would feel so good!

I need answers, kind sirs and madams. The actions I’ve lamented above aren’t rectifying themselves by my whining in the paper. Petting my cat is not helping me fall back to sleep when I awake to the sounds of a sprinkler system hissing to life during an early-morning rainshower. I feel the need to take some sort of action. I’m becoming possessed, obsessed, and distressed. This is my town being polluted, my water being wasted, and my patience (let alone the safety of all pedestrians) being tested. And after all, it’s all about me, right?

What will make the inconsiderateness stop? When will the casual waste end? What is this poor boy to do?

A True Homeless Minister

(Originally written October 16, 2007)
The weather has finally turned cold, and while many who have read my letters may expect me to dive into an apocalyptical global warming rant, I want you, instead, to imagine how your life would be different if, instead of coming home from a hard work-day to a hot shower under a firm, guttered roof, you nestled in a sleeping bag under a pine tree.

What if your next meal arrived with the predictability of a squirrel running across the Parkway? What if you knew that the person pumping your gas, or mowing your lawn, or giving you change at A&P would spend the next cold, rainy night protected by black contractor garbage bags? What if you knew that he or she had two children that would be attempting their homework by candlelight while dodging the raindrops? What if this was your reality?

This letter is not a solicitation, a poor attempt at a guilt trip, or an imposition of my faith. This is an invitation.

So here goes. This Sunday, October 21, at 7 pm (refreshments at 6:30) at the First Presbyterian Church of Manasquan, Rev. Steve Brigham of Lakewood Outreach Ministry Church will speak during the 70x7 alternative worship. Rev. Brigham works intimately with the homeless population of the Jersey Shore. He knows the people by name and can tell you what's needed, when it's needed most, and how to get it there quickly. His big blue bus provides bathing and cleaning facilities to homeless people who would otherwise be without them. Many of the people that volunteer their own time to support and maintain his outreach are themselves, homeless. The tents he acquires are their homes.

Immigration will continue to be a seemingly endless debate and, meanwhile, some of the people that help fuel our system and make our daily lives more productive and efficient are doing so under less-than-desirable conditions. They're not all illegals and they don't all work "menial" jobs. They're working people with cares, and hopes, and dreams, and wants, and families … just like me.

And while many people take time to support local charities, it's not always clear where this support is going. Where do the cans and coats go that students in our schools collect? Who does the money go to from the checks we write? What services are provided by these charitable organizations? This is your chance to put a name with a face and to learn more about our neighbors in need.

These are the holidays, and tensions tend to run high. Some people find themselves fighting like kindergarteners over food they'll use for decoration; others find themselves fighting for food they'll use for sustenance. Ask yourself: what if my candlelight dinner was staring from the porch behind a pair of circle eyes, a triangle nose, and Chiclet-toothed smile?

Please call the church office or write me with any questions. Remember: not guilt. Hope. Hope to see you Sunday night.

Voice of the Voteless

(Originally written October 28, 2007)

With elections looming, some of my neighbors asked me to pass on suggestions to our current and potential leaders that they would like to see considered as our communities develop more eco-conscious attitudes. They were all sent to me, but were addressed to all candidates and their constituents involved in next week's elections. Respectfully consider these three letters from our fellow neighbors. I am merely the messenger.

1. What's your stance on squirrel's rights? I mean, how come ducks and deer get crossing signs and we're passed over like bumps in the road? Jeez, the deer've been either tire'd to extinction or've joined the coons and skunks in slightly greener pastures. We're close ourselves and our future dims with each dropping acorn. Do you know how hard it is to carry four months' dinner in your jowls while Riverdancing in a blender? A squirrel can't get a nut these days!

Please, just keep us in mind next time you lop down our homes in favor of one of those phony metallic trees. We're squirrels, people, not the Berenstain Bears.

2. It's obvious I'm being divvied up like Thanksgiving dinner, and I'm forced to fight conflicting feelings of lust and abuse. I love myself, naturally, but if drastic change is inevitable, consider this. Much of my land is forest or farmland, and as such I retain a lot of water you don't see. Soon my veins'll be replaced with steel pipes and my pores filled with asphalt and concrete.

Well, seein's how you're selling parts of me for medical use, how's bout a little facelift for Good Ol' 34? Instead of the bland stormwater styles every other highway is wearing to work, consider fashioning me with green-roofed buildings and vegetated swales or rain gardens. My third cousin in Oregon just got overhauled a few years ago (www.asla.org/lamag/stormwater.html), and my old roommates in New England are considering similar facelifts ( www.unh.edu/erg/cstev/). You guys have enough problems driving, let alone while I'm wet. Help me, help you.

3. You never forget the first time you visit the shore, and personally … well … I can't quite remember when it was. But I do know it was a long time ago and I do remember a glorious touch-down on that wonderful pond. That beautiful body with it's free, open access to the ocean was a welcome sight to our gaggle after that ridiculous flight.

Unfortunately the tide has changed, and I can't fight the feeling that the unsightly wall-and-pipe combo at the mouth is a big reason. I know you like to think your stuff don't stink, but that's beside the point. Soon you'll plant shrubbery we detest and patrol the shores with goose-chasing canines. You'll put that hard, black substance everywhere in order to park your human movers closer to increasingly lifeless water, and you'll wreck pond. Seems to me you'd be better served helping our Mother do her job than hindering her. But what do I know; I'm just a silly goose.

The Finest Dish in All the Land

(Originally written December 13, 2007)

Ladies-night for Wife usually means plead-culinary-incompetence-to-the-parents night for Husband. Since they'd also planned a non-Andy-related activity, I broke my icy relationship with our apartment's food source: the freezer. My stomach cried "seafood!" and my eyes saw Shrimp Scampi by Birds Eye Foods – "The nation's largest processor of frozen vegetables … and a lot more!" The bag even touted vegetables (albeit processed) as a key player in my healthy diet (but I already knew that, being married to a picky vegetarian and all.)

Fish, vegetables, grains and dairy in one sitting? King Tut would fawn over this pyramid (albeit nutritional).

After merely minutes in my sauté pan, a medley of scampi wonderfulness revealed itself beneath the frozen tundra. Shrimp, pasta, peppers, peas and spices only Marco Polo himself could've imagined presented themselves before my anxious face. I imagined vast trade routes crisscrossing the landscape to bring this feast from point A to point ME.

And then irony spanked me with reality: this now-steaming dish could have come from my own backyard. The shrimp could have been caught in the ocean only a stone's throw away. The peas, peppers and spices could have been grown in a local garden. The grain for the pasta could have been grown in the same nearby field where Bessie could have grazed and produced my milk.

Could have, should have, but wasn't. Why in this land of opportunity was I eating a meal that required the DOT to coordinate its arrival? How come I couldn't acquire these ingredients in my bicycle basket?

The truth is, I could have … for this one meal. I could have even fed myself for the day, and even the week, from products obtained locally. But could the rest of you, and for how long (terraceadvocate@gmail.com)?

If there was a tear in the intricate spider web we depend on to stock our groceries with Arizonan vegetables and Wisconsin milk, could we feed ourselves? Wall likes to tout its farming heritage, but I have as much faith in its ability to feed itself as I have in the Allaire Village smithy's to produce a Beowulf-worthy broadsword.

So, as Veggie and I await our firstborn, what faith can a father have finding food in an energy-faulty future? Maybe here. My frozen dinner resulted in the awareness that this product was "best by Sept 2009," which I translate as "feasible by FEB 2010" and "decent by DEC 2010." (Like the speed limit, add 5-15). And, as I continue to plan for the end of the world as I know it, I feel fine. On our child's third birthday, I know we'll be able to enjoy shrimp scampi! (Except, of course, for my wife.) By then our ocean's shrimp population will be so scarce that our celebratory, and once-commonplace, dish will be considered a delicacy. And it will be revered from town to town. And our child's gaze will shift to me, flash a snow-pea'd grin, and say "Thank you, Daddy. This tasty shrimp scampi."

The First From Mr. Robinson

(Appeared in The Coast Star: June 7, 2007)
KEEP THE GLOBAL WARMING DEBATE OPEN

Editor, The Coast Star:

Global warming, or more correctly, global socialism, is an obvious attempt to take away our freedoms and have a global influence over our economy. The aim of the U.N. politically-appointed scientists is to impact our economy and lifestyle with global regulations, while exempting the Third World countries. While China builds more coal-burning power plants, there is talk of closing ours, which would increase our electricity costs 25 to 30 percent.

The first Earth Day was concerned about the coming of the Ice Age. The front cover of the April, 1975 Newsweek magazine entitled, “The Cooling World,” said there would be a food shortage in 10 years. The Vikings settled in Greenland from the 900s to the 1100s and grew grapes! Now Greenland is covered with ice. Many scientists said the world was 3 degrees warmer at that time.

We were told, because of global warming, we would have the worst hurricane season ever. We did not have even one hurricane. We are having record low temperatures in the Midwest and record snows in Alaska. This April was one of the coldest nationwide in history. The ocean water temperature is very low for this time of year. In 1997, the Senate voted 95 to 0, not to join the Kyoto Treaty. We cannot let international policy impact our life.

We have former Vice President Al Gore preaching to us while he leaves speaking engagements in a convoy of SUVs to his private jet, which takes him to one of his 20-room mansions. At the Senate hearings, he was asked if he would pledge to use energy the same as the rest of us do, and he said “no.”

I was shocked to see that a teacher was going to indoctrinate her students about the global warming theory, and not even discuss the cyclical nature of the world’s climate. There are many scientists who disagree with this theory, but unfortunately, we have become a society in which many people rely only on the 7 o’clock news, which is biased in this area, and also in dealing with other issues.

Five lawyers in robes ruled that what we exhale and what plants take in, can be regulated. That’s right up there with their Eminent Domain ruling. Do we want the government to tell us what we can eat, what we can wear, what we can drive, and even what light bulbs we can use? We must keep the debate open concerning man’s impact on the environment and its effect on our way of life.

EDWARD ROBINSON
Brooklyn Boulevard, Sea Girt

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See Tadvocate's rebuttal

Mr. Robinson Strikes Back

(Appeared in The Coast Star: July 26, 2007)
GLOBAL WARMING NOT A THREAT TO SHORE – TERRORISTS ARE
Editor, The Coast Star:

Mr. Tufts, your letter in The Coast Star [“Continuing the Global Warming Debate”] in response to my letter, was interesting, but I’d like to raise a few points.

Mr. Gore is not a scientist, he’s a lifelong politician. Every calculation he makes is based on political motivations. He is positioning himself, with the help of Hollywood and the media, to get in the Presidential race. When a report came out that he was using 20 times the energy of the average American, he worked feverishly on his mansion to change it. He still hasn’t sold his jet, and I’d like to know the last time he flew commercially. Then there is the issue of his zinc mine and its cleanup.

“Carbon offsets” are rich people like Mr. Gore paying to use more energy. I personally probably have more carbon offsets than Mr. Gore and the Congress combined. I owned a plant nursery and grew and planted thousands of trees from New York state to Maryland, over the last 50 years.

As someone who has had a house along the shore for over 40 years, and who, before that, was a lifeguard captain for four years, and who was a member of the U.S. Coast Guard for eight years, Mr. Tufts, I don’t know what ocean you’re swimming in “with feces and tampons.” I know the ocean is cleaner now than it was years ago.

I agree with your criticism of bottled water –– I never bought a bottle of water, for three reasons: First of all, we don’t know where all those bottles will end up. I see them along the roads and on the beach. Also, the water is not tested like our tap water, and when you add the cost, it’s more expensive than gasoline! Global warming and bottled water are the two marketing schemes of our lifetime. The American society is the most advanced and compassionate in the history of mankind. We get the highest yield per acre, and feed half the world. We send advanced medicines to most of the world; we share our technology and knowledge with third world countries; our missionaries and Peace Corps are all over the world; we’re sending $30 billion to Africa to fight AIDS.

We should not feel guilty about our standard of living. It was earned by the sacrifices, hard work, and the intelligence of those that came before us.

As a life-long environmentalist, I know we must stop our dependence upon oil from “terrorist” nations. Ethanol cannot be an option because of the reliance we have on corn for food products –– particularly meat. Also, weather such as drought, would send prices soaring. As a life-long member, also of the Farm Bureau, I know some farmers disagree, but ethanol is a short-sighted solution. We must become self-reliant and tap the resources we have in the continental U.S., as well as Alaska, before it’s too late. We haven’t built a refinery in over 40 years!

Let’s look at some of the facts reported by the Business and Media Institute: In 1924, the New York Times ran stories about a new Ice Age. Then in 1933, they reported on the longest warming spell since 1776. And then in 1975, both the newspaper and Time Magazine reported on a major cooling year. The first Earth Day concerns were the coming of the Ice Age. A professor of atmospheric sciences at MIT, Richard Lindzen, wrote that there is “no scientific consensus on global warming.” Therefore, it appears that climate change is cynical.

All discussions of global warming become irrelevant unless our professionals can defeat the barbarians of the Middle East and keep them away from our shores. Global warming is not a threat to our shore –– terrorists are.

EDWARD ROBINSON
Brooklyn Boulevard, Sea Girt

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See Tadvocate's Rebuttal

A Commentary on Into the Wild

Into the Wild: A commentary on the book, the movie, and society
Andrew B. Tufts
Spring 2008
ED 529: Content Literacy
Books in Action!

In April 1992 a young man from a well-to-do family hitchhiked to Alaska and walked alone into the wilderness north of Mt. McKinley. His name was Christopher Johnson McCandless. He had given $25,000 in savings to charity, abandoned his car and most of his possessions, burned all the cash in his wallet, and invented a new life for himself. Four months later, his decomposed body was found by a moose hunter …

The requirements for this assignment call for comparisons and contrasts to be drawn between a book and its movie; I’ve chosen Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer. However, because of the importance of this book and its subject-matter on my life and future, the scope of a simple “compare and contrast” is too narrow. Into the Wild addresses societal issues that I’ve been trying to understand, appreciate and enunciate since reading another book, Ishmael, by Daniel Quinn. These issues present themselves in my teachings with high school students at church, in monthly “letters to the editor” of my local paper, in my sporadic blog entries (terraceadvocate.blogspot.com), and in conversation with friends, family, and colleagues. The artistic aspirations of Krakauer and movie director Sean Penn are not obvious, but to consider both modes of Into the Wild mere avenues for telling the story of a lost soul would cheapen the ultimate message of Christopher McCandless: “happiness only real when shared” (Krakauer, 1996, p. 189).

The usual reaction to a movie by a particular book’s lover is one of disappointment; the movie is never able to convey the intricacies of the book or the movie has altered specific information to better fit a Hollywood criterion. Since I had not read the book, I had no such feelings the first time I saw Into the Wild late in 2007; I knew it to be one of Jessie’s, my wife’s, most treasured books and also knew of McCandless’s story by reading Beyond Civilization, another book by Daniel Quinn, but was otherwise a virgin viewer. By reading Krakauer’s account and watching Penn’s movie for a second time, you gain an enriched perspective of McCandless that a limited exposure to one mode or the other would not have provided. Penn’s devotion to the facts presented in the book, his use of Krakauer as a consultant, and the assistance provided by the McCandless family for both modes gives a well-rounded account of McCandless as a person and his difficulties with a society he struggled to understand; the book and movie versions of Into the Wild worked in concert to tell this story.

The striking difference is an obvious one: visual images. McCandless left everything in order live in an area of the country which is both empty and beautiful; without personally visiting the American Southwest, it’s hard to gain an appreciation for how influential this was to McCandless. Seeing the places McCandless traveled and lived gives the viewer a sense of companionship that is lost in the book. McCandless was drawn by the spirits of adventure and unknown that drew so many West in the 1800s. His venture drew comparisons, which Krakauer addresses and explores, to that of Everett Ruess, another young boy who left his home in the early 1900s (but continued to correspond with family) for the canyons and deserts and eventually disappeared. (My wife, while living in San Diego, took numerous trips to this areas, alone at times, and even reminisces about sleeping with a clutched knife.)

These places were also important to McCandless’s family, something we learn in the text but not the video. Almost a year after Chris’s body was found and returned, Krakauer took the McCandless family to the bus he had made his home in the Alaskan interior. There, his mother and father toured their son’s final home. His mother, Billie, said:

It’s comforting to know Chris was here, to know for certain that he spent time beside this river, that he stood on this patch of ground. So many places we’ve visited in the past three years – we’d wonder if possibly Chris had been there. It was terrible not knowing – not knowing anything at all (Krakauer, 1996, p. 203).

Because of the freedom and expressiveness allowed in the text, Krakauer is able to paint a fair, well-rounded picture of the McCandless family. We learn more about their background, about the infidelity that Chris eventually discovered and which pushed him away, and about the good times that Chris had with his family. This is an important lesson, because the McCandless family comes off as petty and overly materialistic in the movie version. I think this portrayal was necessary, however, for director Penn to emphasize the main difference between Chris and his parents: material possessions. Krakauer paints Chris’s parents more as people whose personal relationship struggled while trying to build a successful business and family than as only money- and image-obsessed people.

The visual images were also important in the way the audience was able to view the people McCandless came in contact with, and McCandless himself. Krakauer does a wonderful job interviewing every possible person he could get his hands on, and the book paints wonderful portraits of each person. But I think the true value of Into the Wild, as a movie, is in the depictions of the people, particularly that of Ron Franz (as played by Hal Holbrook), and McCandless’s relationships with them.

Franz was an elderly gentleman who’d lost his wife and children to a drunk driver while he was at war; McCandless (played by Emile Hirsch) gives him a “son” to care for and learn from. Their relationship blossoms over many weeks to the point where, at their final parting, Franz tearfully asks McCandless if he can adopt him in order to continue his family line. You can’t help but be moved by this man’s plea to the young McCandless to carry on his family’s name after he’s passed; Holbrook gave Franz emotion that did not come out in the book. This scene frustrated, and nearly angered, me the most.

McCandless displays borderline indifference when Franz makes this plea. The old man cries and begs and McCandless plays it off as nearly meaningless, or rather, as something that should be saved for another place and time. With many of McCandless’s personal contacts, he emphasizes a living-in-the-now mentality, but seemingly puts limits on the type of living he will engage in; specifically, he shies away from deep personal contact, a lesson he will realize in his final moments.

The last visual image that enhanced the text was Hirsch’s portrayal of McCandless during his final days in Alaska. Hirsch decimated his body for the sake of acting in order to show how thin and feeble McCandless became during his Alaskan adventure. Hirsch’s display of emotion when McCandless botched the kill and preparation of the moose, when McCandless apparently ate the poisonous potato seeds, and when McCandless curled up in his sleeping bag the final time were lasting images which gave McCandless and his story humanity. Hirsch allowed us to feel the pain and despair McCandless felt as his life slipped away from him, alone in the wilderness. Those images brought the text alive in a way I do not think would have been possible if I had not seen the movie before reading the book. In a way, I’m thankful to Hirsch for his devotion to his craft and for giving McCandless a voice and humanity I could appreciate.

Krakauer’s best addition to the McCandless story was his investigative attempt to understand McCandless as a “lost soul”. First, he discusses comments people made to him after his first McCandless story: a magazine article in Outdoor. Readers expressed near hatred for the risky action McCandless’s subjected himself to, for his apparent disregard for his family, and for the cavalier attitude he appeared to have by tackling the wilderness on his own. Krakauer offers a personal anecdote about climbing a mountain called the Devils Thumb, in Alaska, by himself when he was roughly the same age as McCandless. Krakauer’s aim is to give McCandless a rational consciousness, to show that his decision to abandon his material possessions and attempt a life reliant on the kindness of and community with others.

To the latter point, both versions of Into the Wild show how well McCandless adapted to new social groups, how he opened himself up (to the extent of discussing his family) to anyone with a willing ear, and how he willingly trusted strangers. In some ways I got the impression, throughout both narratives, that although McCandless was willing to give advice and assistance to anyone, many of his actions were selfish in nature. His relationship with Ron Franz seems indicative of this: he wanted to teach Franz to get out of his home and explore the world more, but he also wanted Franz to leave him alone, let him come and go as he pleased, and not get too attached. Krakauer allows the reader to make the case that McCandless learned this lesson while alone in Alaska, and was actually ready to embrace community fully when he returned.

This is an issue I’ve dealt with on a few levels, specifically by working with homeless people in Ocean County. Despite their situation (some of whom have chosen it) there is a sense of community and togetherness that is not as strong, or is lacking, among people of the mainstream culture. Although homeless are perceived to be in an awful situation, many are happy and content because they share responsibilities and survival goals with similar people in a similar situation. McCandless seemed to recognize this on some level (specifically with his parents’ relationship) but failed to understand some key concepts. Daniel Quinn addresses this in Beyond Civilization, a book I finished shortly before seeing Into the Wild. Quinn says, “I hear from so many youngsters who, like Chris McCandless, dream of fleeing civilization, of striking out on their own in the wilderness, of ‘living off the land’” (Quinn, 2000, p. 46).

The idea of “fleeing civilization” is thematic in much of Quinn’s literature, but I think it is also the lasting lesson from Chris McCandless. McCandless became disheartened by the way his parental structure was compromised by his parents’ pursuit of things he found ultimately meaningless; many of their fights were over money. McCandless witnessed the strangle-hold that money and materialism has over our society, and found that true happiness was not found in the form of a degree or title or large bank account, but in the form of personal relationships and team-living. Despite the public perception of his decision to abandon all “wealth” (in fact, a friend’s reaction to his initial reading of Into the Wild was anger toward McCandless for questioning and abandoning wealth and possessions), McCandless realized something that people are becoming more increasingly aware of: the meaning of life is not to accumulate.

It’s unfortunate that our society places so much importance on “having things”: toys, money, titles, clothes, homes. In many ways, we define success in our society by a standard unachievable by most. The Story of Stuff (http://storyofstuff.com/), a 20-minute internet movie, details how our consumer culture is fed by society’s mentality that our money, titles, clothes, homes, electronics, etc. are never good enough (and, also, that our national happiness index has slowly, but continually, plummeted). There’s always something that is better than what we have. And the only people that benefit from this way of life benefit are those who make money off our constant spending. And in order to constantly spend, we have to constantly work, which leaves less time for family, friends, and self.

And, yes, I’m ranting a bit, but this past weekend our community lost another student to suicide. Each year the suicide rate increases (The Human Odyssey, 2007), national high school dropout rates increase (Herbert, 2008, from http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/22/opinion/22herbert.html), and since the Columbine massacre a decade ago, random acts of violence have spread across the country to now include schools of all academic levels, and also shopping malls and fast-food restaurants, to name a few places traumatized during the past holiday season. The point is that, increasingly, people are becoming more disillusioned with the future they’re presented (how many depression medications are on the market now?), and more are taking their frustrations out in creative and destructive ways. Christopher McCandless was not a freak or a rare boy. I know friends of mine and even family members are scratching their heads wondering how they’re going to amass all the things considered symbols of success in our society and be happy in the process. As a future educator, I know I’m going to have students like Chris in my classes. I know there’s a life I can teach them about that is not possession driven and can also be happy, fruitful, and meaningful.

References

Free Range Studios. (1996). The story of stuff. Retrieved April 28, 2008, from http://storyofstuff.com/index.html.

Herbert, B. (2008, April 22). Clueless in America. New York Times. Retrieved April 24, 2008 from http://www.nytimes.com.

The Human Odyssey. (2007). Teen suicide rate soars. Retrieved April 28, 2008 from http://thehumanodyssey.typepad.com.

Krakauer, J. (1996). Into the Wild. New York: Villard.

Quinn, D. (2000). Beyond civilization: Humanity’s next great adventure. New York: Three Rivers Press.