Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Political Wind

I'm a liberal by nature, although I like to think I'm bipartisan. Not interested in tea parties, thank you very much. During the '08 presidential shootout, I heard a lot of jabber about alternative energy sources. I heard the mantra "Drill, baby, drill," although this lamentable phrase was quickly shot down by the Dems.

And rightly so. The BP oil spill now indicates that drilling is not without hazards, and fossil fuels cannot sustain earth's energy needs for more than another hundred years by most estimates. What I clearly heard was a lot of talk about wind farms and fields chock-full of solar panels, row after row of solar cells soaking up the yellow rays of Sol.

But Cat isn't hearing a lot of talk anymore about energy from the wind or the sun. These technologies are already in existence, although what is lacking is the cost efficiency to make them viable on a large scale. When, Mr. President, would be a good time to start implementing your campaign promises to use these alternative sources? I remain a loyal supporter . . . for now.

It's time to bring in the entrepreneurs from the private sector to palaver with the Department of Energy, time to re-tool the factories in the rust belt and start an energy revolution that puts people back to work manufacturing the equipment to make solar and wind farms a reality.

For now, the story has fallen out of sight. It's on the down-low.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Pleasures of Long Convalescence

Sorry for the absence, chickadees and chick-a-dumplings. A skiing accident in Colorado laid Cat up for several months. I fractured my right leg in three places. But it wasn't all bad.

I weaned myself from multitasking. I had a PC, a TV remote, and a cell phone, and I'm not talking the smart variety that shows movies or plans your retirement. It makes telephone calls.

I continued working on several articles and books, usually opting for a legal pad and pen over the PC. The physical act of writing connected me to the language in a new way. When the Percocet wore off, I drifted to sleep while watching a soap. If the cell rang too much, I turned it off. That simple. Felt like one of the Amish . . . and maybe that's not a bad way too live. I have not felt so much peace in years.

I'm not going to go break another leg in order to find such tranquility, but I did have time to read Walden by Thoreau. For a few months, I lived his life--a "deliberate life"--doing only what was necessary. No tweets or nights out with the girls. No blogging or running up credit card bills.

Try it sometime, minus the broken bones. You'd be surprised where technology has taken us, and, contrary to the new phrase in our vernacular, it's not all good.