We’ve been playing in the dirt for a couple of days now: moving dirt, separating rocks, filling, stacking, pounding, shoveling, excavating and pick-axing. Having spent the last month teaching in NAU’s STAR Program, it was actually pretty nice to do some work of this nature. As I shovel, I like to think of how long humans have been doing work like this. Moving dirt, the sound of the shovel working it’s way through sand and rock, is a very old sound. I think that’s why it’s so calming to sit next to a river or listen to the wind blow through the trees. These are very old sounds.

It’s a little bothersome to bury industrial waste in your yard, but it’s nice to make use out of garbage. We got the idea from Earthship. Check it out; I think this stuff is amazing. To me, this is what “green building” is really about. I don’t think I’d live in a tire house, but there are a lot of other options and combinations of options to build a house that is the closest thing to “no impact” that there is.

I’ve also been spending time with this year’s garden. It’s as ready for the monsoons as I am. This year: strawberries, assorted tomatoes, jalapeños, green chilies, red chilies, peppers, and a few herbs. We’re going to experiment with cloning too. Not in a creepy mad scientist way, but in the traditional manner of slicing a budding branch in the right way, planting it, and watching it sprout roots of it’s own.

I love watching the monsoons build. It hasn’t stormed yet, but every day for the last week or so, ominous clouds build, the humidity raises, lightening strikes, thunder rumbles, it sprinkles, then….it all goes away. Any bets on when the sky will explode?

Change we can believe in? Not anymore.

Presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama supports the spy bill compromise passed by the House Friday, despite having opposed retroactive amnesty to telecoms that helped with the President’s secret, warrantless wiretapping.

The measure expands the government’s ability to install blanket wiretaps inside domestic communication infrastructure and frees the nation’s phone and internet companies from lawsuits accusing them of massive violations of their customers’ privacy. The Senate is expected to take up and pass the Bush-approved bill next week.

The bill is widely perceived as a victory for the White House, and was agreed to by Democrats out of a fear of being labeled soft on terrorism in the upcoming elections.

The most important political news seems to come out on Friday, which is why the media seems to have missed this. This is nothing new of course. The above news article also cites the statement released late last Friday by the Obama campaign where he attempts to explain himself. He was obviously hoping nobody would notice. I have noticed and I am angry.

I’m not simply angry about his support for this unconstitutional and, frankly, fascist bill. I’m angry that he lied and reversed his position on this bill. American’s have been consistently and overwhelmingly against this bill since the White House first introduced it in January. I’m angry that someone promoting “change” is playing the same manipulative political games that have turned our election process into a farce. Disillusioned and jaded once again.

A lot of people don’t see this telecom thing as very important, but it is. It’s Orwellian. He lied and is tossing aside our civil liberties so that he can appeal to a fraction of conservatives who won’t vote for him anyway. Bad move, Obama. Now you’re just another hypocritical politician.

I have a friend who heard about this and now plans on supporting Nader. I fell for that in 2000 and don’t plan on doing that. I still dig Cynthia McKinny, but if I’m going to “throw my vote away,” I might as well vote for my Dad. As for now, I’ll do my part to bring back Wavy Gravy’s campaign slogan. This isn’t a slogan promoting mass apathy. Rather, we shouldn’t be forced to vote between two unsuitable people. There is still a lot of time, but I’m not happy with Obama. Plus, he’s for nuclear power too. As Ani DiFranco said when she was here last week, “I can sum up my argument against nuclear power in two words: nuclear waste.”

…and if you think my criticism is harsh, you should scroll down and read the comments from this Wired article.

For this short section, we road two abreast and we took up the whole right lane. There is no bike lane on this section of road and there are significant breaks in the concrete next to the curb. His argument was, despite the conditions of the road, we are to be single file and as close to the curb as possible. In other words, “I don’t care about your safety, just get out of my fuckin’ way.”

We told him that he was wrong and even invited him to the house to look at the book together. He screeched away pissed off.

Here is the law. Section 28-815. Riding on roadways and bicycle paths; prohibition of motor vehicle traffic on bike paths:

A. A person riding a bicycle on a roadway at less than the normal speed of traffic at the time and place and under the conditions then existing shall ride as close as practicable to the right-hand curb or edge of the roadway, except under any of the following situations:
If overtaking and passing another bicycle or vehicle proceeding in the same direction.
If preparing for a left turn at an intersection or into a private road or driveway.
If reasonably necessary to avoid conditions, including fixed or moving objects, parked or moving vehicles, bicycles, pedestrians, animals or surface hazards.
If the lane in which the person is operating the bicycle is too narrow for. a bicycle and a vehicle to travel safely side by side within the lane.
B. Persons riding bicycles upon a roadway shall not ride more than two abreast except on paths or parts of roadway set aside for the exclusive use of bicycles.

If there is no bike lane, we have a lot of freedom. It is our lives against your convenience. It is completely up to the cyclist to determine a safe distance from the curb. It’s our discretion, not yours. And honestly, who is in a better position to make that decision? Cyclists are. We can see the road better than those in a car. We can feel the road better than those in a car. We are more susceptible to debris such as glass, rocks, and rubber. And it is legal to ride two abreast.

If this is annoying…if this pisses you off, than you should be supporting those people working to create bicycle lanes and alternate routes for bicycles. The train station has pamphlets that explain all these rules. I’m going to grab a stack and start throwing them at people.

On a side note - if someone in a car yells something at a cyclist and causes the cyclist to get distracted and crash. Those in the car are legally responsible for the accident.

To the druids, it means this.

To you, Flagstaff, it probably means this.

I, on the other hand, am happy enough to play outside and howl under the beautiful yellow moon.

The Republican Party is, of course, trying to distance themselves from this guy as much as possible. They pledged never to use his services again and said that he would never be allowed to sell Republican merch at their conventions again. He also got a lot more of what he had coming to him.

He said after the blog post, his Web site was hacked, he was threatened, and the Texas Republican Party – his biggest customer — said it would never use his services again. He received so many abusive calls that he had to disconnect his phone. It’s the strongest reaction he’s gotten in 17 years in the business, he said.

The most interesting thing about all this was his explanation.

Mr. Alcox said he made 12 of the pins after seeing a comic strip where Barack Obama was standing in front of a sign saying “The White House,” with the building behind him. Mr. Obama is depicted thinking, “That’s the first thing we’ll change.”
“We just changed it around a little bit and everyone went crazy. I was shocked,” Mr. Alcox said.

When he “changed it around a bit,” he obviously didn’t (and presumably doesn’t) understand the difference between the two examples. I wish I could see the cartoon he’s talking about, but based on its premises, it’s clear that the first is a necessary attack on a dominant white patriarchy, not white people. Here, “white” is an ideology tied to social status, to power. His rendition, which he obviously feels is equal, is actually a reinforcement of that power structure.

I think studies on “whiteness” and “white privilege” is really interesting. I hope Alcox reads up on it.

My concern is that many people, looking from behind their steering wheel, don’t think of cyclists as people. That sounds terrible, I know, but sometimes we think it’s true. One trick I’ve learned is to make eye contact with drivers. If I make eye contact, then I am humanized. After this contact, I can make my next move more confidently. Motorists are far less likely to freak me out. Without that human connection, my humanity seems to mean less to you. And frankly, that hurts.

If I ride a bike, this does not give you the right to make assumptions about me. For the record, I ride a bike, not because I think I’m doing anything positive for the environment, but because I really just enjoy riding my bike. In a car, I feel trapped, confined, claustrophobic, and annoyed, if not scared. But that’s just me. We all have our reasons for riding, just as you have your reasons for driving.

I think it is hard, especially for people with little to no cycling experience, to make appropriate decisions around cyclists. Here are a few examples of how to appropriately handle common bike/car interactions.

1. We have as much of a right to the road as you do. Seriously, again: we have as much of a right to the road as you do. If we annoy you, think about how much you not only annoy, but scare us. There is no comparison. The only thing that makes riding a bike dangerous is you. Also, the only reason it is dangerous to drive a car is you (it’s true right? I’m just throwing that out there). We should never have to put our lives on the line because of the transportation method we choose. As a motorist, you have no legal, nor logical basis from which to accuse us of “hogging the road.” If we indeed share the road, you’re the one hogging. And if we take the lane (which we are legally allowed to do at our own discretion), there is a reason for it. Respect that reason and cut us some slack.

2. Passing: please go around us safely. By law you need to give us at least three feet of room. This means that on some roads, it is actually illegal for you to pass. Some roads don’t have bike lanes. I hate riding on those roads, but sometimes there is no better alternative. Cyclists need at least one foot of space from which to maneuver their bike from the curb. Given this 4 feet and the occasional double “no pass” yellow line, in some instances the road is simply not wide enough for you to pass. Pine Knoll, between NAU’s dome and Lone Tree Rd., is a good example of this. If you’re close enough for me to slap your car, you are too close. And I will slap your car.

3. Bikes turning left on a busy street: One of the most difficult, most dangerous obstacles for a cyclist is turning left on a busy street. Imagine cruising down Butler, maneuvering around the usual bike lane obstacles on busy roads like bits of tire, glass, and fiberglass (not to mention all the current construction). You’re about 100 feet from San Francisco St. and you want to turn left. Your bike shakes from the powerful draft of speeding cars just three or four feet away from you. The intersection is approaching and you’ve got to get over somehow. You signal left, but nobody seems to care.

This is when cyclists hate motorists. In this scenario, you are all assholes. Please let us in when you see us signal. Just slow down and wave us through. It will cost you maybe three seconds of your time.

At the same time, realize and empathize with the fact that we recognize this is not an ideal situation for you either (ideal, no, but don’t equate this with equality. Afterall, we’re the one’s still at risk here). We’re sorry, but that’s how the road was designed, the road we apparently share. Although cyclists have a right to the road, this illustrates one of many examples regarding the fact that the intended use of the road, and the rules that govern it, were never created with cyclists in mind. This also means that it would be worth your time to support those working to create alternate transportation options for cyclists in our community.

4. Turning right in your automobile: Look! Use a turn signal or we might slam into you as you turn. About a month ago, I tore all the tread off part of a cross tire while breaking as hard as possible, because a red Silverado decided to turn right on to Humphrey when I was just behind the cab on 66. And he had just passed me!

5. Opening your car door: (this one’s for everybody) Look before you open. That’s it. We’re everywhere. Assume we’re everywhere. There was a kid killed in Chicago a few days ago because someone opened their door, and the cyclist had to swerve into traffic. Along the same lines, don’t park in the bike lane–especially if you really like your car.

6. General courtesy: If your car has some kind of exhaust problem, get it the hell off the road. At the very least, change lanes so we don’t have to breathe in your exhaust. I hate that. And you would too.

7. Awkward yes, but it’s better than killing one of us: Some motorists really do look out for cyclists and this sometimes creates awkward confrontations. Sometimes, you want to wave us in and we’re not sure if you’re serious so we hesitate. Then you start to go and then we stop, then you stop and we go, and then we both smile at each other and work it out. I’m totally cool with this. We appreciate you looking out for us. At an intersection, it is nice if you let us go first, but I’d rather have you in front of me rather than behind me. The best trick I’ve learned while riding in traffic is to assume that I’m totally invisible. If I assume nobody can see me, I’m ensuring my own safety.

8. and….:Don’t yell stuff. Don’t throw stuff. Don’t ask us if we want to race.

9. Generally lame:Don’t rev your engine behind us, hoping it will freak us out. We put our guard up, but we’re not freaked out. We think it’s lame. We think you’re lame. Along the same lines, don’t play the “pretend to swerve and kill the bicyclist game.” It’s lame. And if the road is unexpectedly slick, you might actually swerve, loose control and kill us. And that would be really lame.

10. When San Francisco St. turns into a one way road at Butler, the entire right lane is a bike lane. The indications needs to be repainted, but if you pay attention, it is a bike lane. We can legally cruise down that lane and chat with the person riding next to us about what a beautiful day it is. You can’t go much faster than 20 or so on that road anyway, so just relax.

Our life means no more or less to us than your life means to you. We’re all just people trying to get where we want to go, safely. Don’t fall prey to the cyclists v. motorist’s argument. I’m just as inclined to yell at unsafe cyclists as I am unsafe motorists. How about a little love, a little empathy? We’re human beings with lives as unique and valuable as yours. We have moms and dads too. All I’m asking is that you treat us as people, people you might even like. If you hate cyclists, that’s your problem, not ours. If you hate cyclists, then we are not people to you, and you’ve got problems. Engage us, argue with us if you think we’re in the wrong; at least you would be arguing with a person, rather than some generic hippie stereotype that only exists so you can treat us like shit. And frankly, if you hate cyclists in spite of rising gas prices, you’re embarking on a loosing battle. There are more of us everyday.

And here I am, when gas prices are at their highest, accepting a job 40 miles away…..Here is a great article expousing the benefits of riding; this is one of many articles that have hit the net during the last month

I’ve been searching for jobs for the past several months. It’s been a daunting, thought-provoking task to say the least. This is what I’ve been writing about. I have accepted a teaching position at Winslow High School. I’ll be teaching upper-level English and a few honors English classes. I’m not happy about the 40 minute commute, but I will be happy to stick around Flagstaff. Apparently two other teachers make this commute and I could get in on a carpool scenario.

I am planning on jump-starting this site again. Now that I’ve got a job, I can stop thinking about it and dedicate more of my energy to this site again. I will write a little something here every day to bring back my small audience of loyal readers….so stay tuned.

If anyone has any insider knowledge of Winslow and what it might be like to teach there, please don’t hesitate to enlighten me.

Here is a great excerpt. I wish I wrote this.

“I write to make peace with the things I cannot control. I write to create red in a world that often appears black and white. I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue. I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends. I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure. I write against power and for democracy. I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I write in solitude born out of community. I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that keep me complacent. I write to remember. I write to forget. I write to the music that opens my heart. I write to quell the pain. I write to migrating birds with the hubris of language. I write as a form of translation. I write with the patience of melancholy in winter. I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know. I write as an act of faith. I write as an act of slowness. I write to record what I love in the face of loss. I write because it makes me less fearful of death. I write as an exercise in pure joy. I write as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt. I write out of my anger and into my passion. I write from the stillness of night anticipating—always anticipating. I write to listen. I write out of silence. I write to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around. I write I write because of the humor of our condition as humans. I write because I believe in words. I write because I do not believe in words. I write because it is a dance with paradox. I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in the sand. I write because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I write because it is the way I talk long walks. I write as a bow to wilderness. I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness. I write because as a child I spoke a different language. I write with a knife carving each word through the generosity of trees. I write as ritual. I write because I am not employable. I write out of my inconsistencies. I write because then I do not have to speak. I write with the colors of memory. I write as a witness to what I have seen. I write as a witness to what I imagine. I write by grace and grit. I write out of indigestion. I write when I am starving. I write when I am full. I write to the dead. I write out of the body. I write to put food on the table. I write on the other side of procrastination. I write for the children we never had. I write for the love of ideas. I write for the surprise of a beautiful sentence. I write with the belief of alchemists. I write knowing I will always fail. I write knowing words always fall short. I write knowing I can be killed by my own words, stabbed by syntax, crucified by both understanding and misunderstanding. I write out of ignorance. I write by accident. I write past the embarrassment of exposure. I keep writing and suddenly, I am overcome by the sheer indulgence, the madness, the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. I trust nothing, especially myself, and slide headfirst into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it to shreds—and then realize, it doesn’t matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters of cut glass. I write because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient we are. I write as though I am whispering in the ear of the one I love.”