Yesterday we had a great discussion about noticing the beauty in things that have a history, whether they are people, books, or old trunks. Jacque sent this photo of a family heirloom – a well-traveled piece that is now her coffee table. You might be able to make out the year “1807” on the side of the trunk, which is the year the Strattons started their journey. I can only guess it’s rather humbling to set your mug of pumpkin spiced organic decaf on a trunk that was once attached to a wagon rolling over the unspoiled prairie. How can you not think, “Oh, the places you’ve been’!

Not that I would ever choose to go back and trudge across the Midwest with Jacque’s relatives. Time travel is a fascinating improbability, and hobbyists are always looking for evidence. The latest craze swirls around this clip taken at the Hollywood premiere of a 1928 Charlie Chaplin film, “Circus”. Because of the position of her hand, some people are convinced the woman who walks behind the stuffed zebra is a time traveler talking on a cell phone.

Cooler heads have suggested she is probably using an ear trumpet. Why rule out the tantalizing possibility that she is talking on her iPhone? Because the cell phone coverage in 1928 was even worse than it is today due to the complete absence of phone towers and the total non existence of any supporting networks and the absolute unavailability of anyone else to talk to. Spoil sports.

I prefer to think she is a time traveler; a nun perhaps, sent there to collect objects that will be tagged for future wabi-sabi status, or to negotiate for the purchase of a Honus Wagner baseball card so it can be trimmed, shellacked, and eventually sold to fund the sister’s ministries to the poor in 2010. Naturally.

If you could travel backwards to any place on Earth at any time in history with the caveat that you had to stay there (although you could take your cell phone), where would you go?

Yesterday Steve in St. Paul mentioned (with characteristic modesty) that he won a photo contest organized by a group of camera enthusiasts who challenge each other to offer exceptional images that connect to a declared theme. In the case of Steve’s winning entry, the theme was the Japanese notion of wabi sabi. What is wabi sabi? Steve will explain it in a moment. But first, here’s the picture.

Steve says:

Wabi sabi is an oriental concept of aesthetics. It holds that things can be beautiful if they are worn, aged, broken or missing parts. In fact, not only can such things be beautiful, but there is an inner beauty to things that have served well and now look like they have served well. So a westerner trying to understand the concept might think that my photo was pretty “in spite of” the wear and tear on the Bible. To an oriental mind, that worn Bible is far lovelier than a new one could be. This aesthetic is one reason orientals tend to honor older people. It is the opposite of the western tendency to chase the young, the shiny, the perfect.

Well done, Steve. I think that’s a gorgeous photo. And the older I get, the more I appreciate the idea that there can be great beauty in things that are aged, worn, bald, bleary eyed, a little jowly, and in desperate need of a shave. Especially first thing in the morning.

The trick is getting everyone else to see that.

Steve is right about our fascination with the shiny and “perfect”. It would take a cultural shift for us to embrace the idea that there is a dignified beauty in a well-used object. Perhaps the slow disintegration of the baby boom will make gorgeous decrepitude the Next Big Thing, rather like the revived TV career of Betty White, but for everyone.

Right now, Wabi-Sabi in the USA is limited to 4 locations in California. I like the looks of the one in Rancho Cucamonga.

Do you have a favorite object that reflects this notion of wabi-sabi?

I usually don’t read ads that show up in my e-mail inbox, unless they come from old friends who are trying to set a record for the number of !’s in a single message!

Hiya, Wally from Wally’s Intimida here to remind you that SUV’s are making a comeback! Yes! Just a few years ago you couldn’t give one away. I know. I tried! But some attitudes have changed. Or to be more exact, some attitudes have gone back towards where they were ten years ago! Why? Who knows? Maybe it’s that Tea Party thing. We’re rolling back the clock on everything, all the way back to colonial days!

Of course, people haven’t forgotten 4 dollar a gallon gasoline, but here’s the difference today – Everybody’s so completely broke and totally discouraged, they’re willing to say “What the heck, I’m gonna buy a Sherpa anyway!” And I’m ready to answer with a “What the heck, I’m gonna sell you one” type of deal! It’s a race to see which one of us can sign on the dotted line first!

Gas sipping electro-auto-snobs will say a thirsty Sherpa doesn’t make sense, but I say making sense is overrated. All you have to do is watch the political ads on TV to see that the people who don’t make sense are having all the fun! So what the heck? Why not get a Sherpa, especially if you grew up rattling around like a loose BB in the back of your mom and dad’s giant car? Now that you’re grown you want to have a car that’s AT LEAST that huge, and when the family’s not looking you can jump back there and roll around some more just for old time’s sake!

Worrywarts will say “high profile” vehicles are a dangerous rollover hazard in high winds like the ones we’ve had lately, but that’s so negative! High profile has never been a bad thing in America! When high profilers fall, they land on low profilers, so which would you rather be? Better to keep your head above the crowd so people can see you! If you’ve got rollover worries, just outfit your new Sherpa with the “Tumbleweed” package, featuring an extra set of wheels on the roof in case you do become inverted. No problem in the Sherpa Tumbleweed – just keep on going!

So throw caution to the prevailing 38 mile per hour northwest wind. Drive on, roll on or blow on down to Wally’s Intimida for the best deal I can possibly give you on a mammoth ride – the Sherpa from Intimida.

Why? Why the Heck Not?

It’s good to see Wally hasn’t lost his bubbly spirit and exclamatory extravagance, even in the face of this economy and these winds.

How have you fared against the great “land hurricane“?

The remarkable part about the news that Sony is discontinuing the Walkman cassette player in Japan is that Sony was actually selling a cassette player! That’s amazing. And here’s something even more astonishing – you can still buy a Walkman cassette player in the USA. I would have bet against this, and I don’t bet.

Rectangular-headed monstrosities do seem to have a way of hanging on. The Walkman Cassette player looks rather clunky to us now, but in its day it was sleek and amazingly small. Most people have moved on, throwing their old cassette technology away in alarm, as if it were on fire, fearing that they would be left behind. Perhaps we’ll find Walkman remains submerged in a local lake or buried in the trash.

But the playback technology for photos, audio and video has changed so rapidly, future historians and garbage pile archeologists sifting through the landfills of our day will have a tough time telling what the various electronic devices were for, or in which era they were used. I suppose the landfill layer on which items are discovered will set an approximate date, much like counting the rings to determine the age of a tree. But will they have the patience to work out the technical difference between an open reel tape recorder from the 1960’s and a wire recorder of the 1930’s?

As the excavation goes on, evolutionary clues will emerge. On an upper layer they’ll find many differently configured and exotic CD players, and then a missing link – the vinyl LP to CD recorder! Just below that, discarded record sleeves and tone arms will begin to emerge. A few layers underneath will be the living room stereo cabinets with turntables nestled inside, their speakers covered with a luxurious looking fabric to fit in better with mom’s expensive drapes.

And at all levels of the debris there will be abandoned VHS tapes – rectangular plastic boxes. Just like the original Walkman.

How many layers of playback technology are in your landfill?

Yesterday’s trashcan mystery started out as a strange curiosity, but as is often the case when babooners take over, it went to unpredictable places.

I gave you toy pirate ships in a city park garbage can alongside a child’s private “Do Not Read!” notebook. In response you delivered sibling rivalry, homeless people, overflowing shopping carts, reality TV, Candid Camera, dumpster diving gourmets, exasperated parents, a possum rug, Buddy Holly 45’s , a heartbroken Russian double agent, marooned space aliens, curfew breaking park rats, an infuriated older sister, a naked lake swimmer in a fishing cap and two goggle eyed anglers, and goats (from space) of course.

And that was all before it got dark. Really dark.

I’m sorry to say I don’t know the true answer to the mystery. I do know that less than an hour after I notified police that there were possessions abandoned in the park, the boxes were picked up. There was identifying information in those boxes, so it’s possible the situation that led to the dumping, whether it was innocent or sinister, has been resolved. Well, if it was sinister, it’s probably not “resolved”, but it might be exposed.

I only wish, after reading your comments, that tim’s 10,000 precious baseball cards had been part of the thrown away bounty. Those, I might have picked up.

I am planning another blog holiday to concentrate on a different project for a few days in early November, and I would be delighted to welcome more guest bloggers to the fold. All you have to do is write a main post on a topic that interests you, and then watch the fun happen as inventive readers spin your inspiration off into all directions.

Former guest bloggers are encouraged to step forward, including those who wrote a few weeks ago. You do not need to be a regular commenter to apply. In fact, all you need is to know that the opportunity exists.

Have you ever had your idea taken to a new place by other people?

While walking through a local park yesterday I noticed a plastic tub overflowing with colorful artifacts sitting beside a municipal trashcan. A couple of boxes sat beside it. My first thought was someone decided to ditch their refuse here to save the cost of having it picked up at home.

I’m actively looking for work and sorting through dumpsters has emerged as one of my leading career options, so I casually walked over and discovered the following items:

– A school backpack
– A book bag full of books
– A pouch overflowing with paper scraps
– Folders full of fifth grade assignments
– A pair of yellow plastic airplanes about two feet long
– Two rather large toy pirate ships

All the discarded stuff seemed to belong to the same child, or at least the same name appeared on many of the items and on several sheets of return address labels – the kind that come at Christmastime, unsolicited, from organizations seeking a donation. One notebook had emphatic, but smiley “keep out” warnings scrawled across the front.

Normally a “keep out” sign on a child’s notebook is something to be taken seriously, but it was in the garbage so I thought I could get away with a peek. I saw nothing too remarkable inside – mostly scraps of paper stuffed in the vinyl pouches. The real juicy stuff may have been taken out before disposal, but I didn’t spend too much time with it. Believe it or not, there is a limit to how long a you can comfortably sort through trash alongside a public walking path without feeling conspicuous. I did call the local police to report abandoned property in the park. My thought was that maybe the stuff had been stolen and rifled through for valuables before being dumped, and its owner might be hoping to get some things back.

But why would any thief make off with a child’s possessions? What’s the point of taking two plastic pirate ships? And why were there two ships and two planes? Wouldn’t one be enough to own or to steal? Who benefits from theft of the private “do not look” papers of a fifth grader? Unless the burglar is also a child!

Or perhaps the child, now grown, was cleaning the attic and wanted to be rid of some unhappy fifth grade memories. Getting these mementos out and away from the house as soon as possible may have been the goal.

Maybe a brother or sister was playing an unfortunate prank.

Or an estranged and/or grieving parent may have wanted to put some distance between him or herself and these cheerful, colorful, quirky reminders of happier times.

Or …?

What combination of circumstances could have led to the dumping of these items?

A message from our favorite public servant.

Greetings Constituents!

Election day is two weeks from today! Regardless of your political tendencies I hope you’ll get out and vote, especially if you live in my district and are inclined to vote for ME!

I still don’t have an “official” opponent in Minnesota’s 9th (all the water surface area in the state), but I know that a submerged wave of support for a write-in candidate can easily tip over an electoral kayak if the guy with the paddle is not paying attention. That’s why I thought I’d better hurry up and make some last-minute promises.

I promise to hate the government as much as anyone.

Anti-incumbent cynicism is high this year, but that shouldn’t be a problem for a rougish outsider like me. But some casual observers have been known to mistake me for an establishment politician just because I’ve been around a long, long while. That’s totally unfair. Believe me, nobody is more opposed to the government than I am!

Our government is too invasive, too intrusive, too insular, and a lot of other in- words I don’t have the space to write down here, including inward. I want to keep government from interfering in your life when the reason for doing so doesn’t interest me. And if I we don’t get enough government haters in the government to accomplish that in this election cycle, I promise that at least I’ll continue my already successful efforts to keep the government inept at everything it does.

I also promise to change the tone.

Yesterday, an unnamed group of online conversationalists offered up as a joke that our current congressional leaders would be unable to complete an old-fashioned Amish barn raising because our political culture is too toxic to permit cooperation. That may be true but there’s no way we can know for sure until we try.

That’s why, as soon as I get back to Washington, I plan to introduce the National Political Reconciliation Amish Barn Construction Fellowship Bill of 2010! Under the provisions of the bill, Republicans and Democrats in Congress will be required to start the 2011 session by building a big red barn on the national mall at the foot of the Washington monument, using only horse power, hand tools and brute strength.

I know we can do it, but to make sure, one of the requirements is that both the Republican and Democratic leaders of the House and Senate will have to move their offices into the hayloft. Trust me, it will be a very nice barn, and it will set the stage for another initiative I have in mind – the Washington Monument Green Energy Generator Bill of 2012.
Think GIANT WINDMILL!

I know what you’re wondering – “Why would any one of the Congressional Fat Cats will vote for this?” Well, I’m certain that in the weeks following this election everyone who remains in Congress will be eager to bolster their wholesome, hardworking Common American Person credentials. How can any Common American Person say “No” to building a barn? It speaks to our values and shared aspirations, even though most Common American People have no idea how to build a barn.

Plus, it will provide great, positive publicity for our political leaders. I expect my bi-partisan barn raising to get 24/7 coverage from CNN, and I’m sure my colleagues will be out there working hard, maybe even shirtless, because the only kind of bad exposure in Washington, D.C. is the kind that’s not enough. And that’s true even when the exposure looks flabby and old and horrible.

Do us all a favor and return me to Congress so I can get down to business, force this community-building bill down the throats of my fellow public servants, and then take my shirt off in the January sunshine to show the world how very much of an American I am!

Sincerely your very best friend in our nation’s capitol,

Congressman Loomis Beechly

Have you ever organized a large group to accomplish something together?

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’m a political candidate for a major state office and I’m so excited about Election Day I can hardly wait! After months and months of trying to connect with the voters they will finally decide and even if I lose I won’t be mad because the end of the campaign means I can stop hanging out with my opponents. I don’t think the three guys who went to the moon were together as much as we’ve been in the last few weeks. Honestly, I see them more than the people in my family. If it’s Tuesday, this must be the breakfast forum at the League of Earnest Accountants.

It has come to the point where I know the other side’s arguments as well as my own. I never expected to memorize so many reasons why I’m inadequate, but I guess that’s what a career in politics does for you. Don’t get me wrong. They’re nice enough people, but there are limits to togetherness, or there should be. Even with people you sort of like you can know too much, and right now I feel like I know WAY too much about me and him and him. And confidentially, Dr. Babooner, I’m starting to think none of us would be a very good choice. Hope the voters don’t find out!

But that’s not my question. My problem has to do with etiquette, and this is it – even after all the struggling and maneuvering for an advantage, when we have our final debate I suspect I’ll be saying goodbye to these guys for quite a while, maybe forever. I think I’m going to miss them. Should I bring parting gifts, and if so, what?

Sincerely,
One of Three

I told One of Three it would be a very nice gesture to bring gifts for his political opponents on the occasion of their final debate, and by now he should know enough about them to buy just the right thing.

The hard part is how to bestow these gifts, since he will probably have to do it when they are all standing there together. It would be tacky to get each one the same item, like, say, a fruit basket. But he would want to be sure to spend roughly the same amount – it’s embarrassing to have a huge disparity in gift value, especially if one of the recipients is wealthy and the other is not.

And although they’ve spent a lot of time talking about it, cash is probably not a good choice as a parting gift for one’s political opponents.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

The re-surfacing of trapped Chilean miners has set an upbeat tone for underground adventure this week.

Yesterday, tim described his childhood escapade using storm sewers to go to the store for cigarettes. Need I say it? Kids, don’t try this, really. Flash flooding and lung cancer are the very first things that come to my risk-averse mind, followed closely by enormous spiders and sudden earthquakes. Here’s an excerpt:

it was winter out so the underground route was warm (good news) but we all had our winter coats and boots so we were kind of klunky . the master map charter got messed up and we had to double back a couple times. in a few places the drain pipe got small and we had to take off jackets and shinney through. in other places the pipe was short and instead of walking a little hunched over you had to go for long distances with kness bent doing the duck walk and scraping your back on the concrete pipe above.

A vivid account of a bit of scary risk-taking, tim. But it does remind me that some people seem to enjoy navigating tight underground spaces. A family trip to Kentucky’s Mammoth Cave National Park ten years ago opened my eyes to the caver culture. The area is shot through with subterranean passages, and on a tour of one less-than-mammoth cave a young guide described how she and her friends still spent their after hours squeezing through uncharted tunnels, just for the fun of it. Not for me, thanks.

If I’m going to go underground at all, it has to be with a jumpsuit, a hardhat and 10 billion dollars worth of burrowing and air handling equipment so I can stand tall, stay clean, and completely obliterate all icky worms and any other obstacles that might block my way.

That’s how they do it in Switzerland.

The Gotthard Base Tunnel will be the longest railway tunnel in the world when it is completed, 35.5 miles from end to end. The Swiss have been working on this one for 20 years – imagine having the political will to continue on such an expensive project for two decades! Given the same task, I’m afraid we would have abandoned it for political reasons at the first change of administrations. On Friday the Swiss had a long-awaited breakthrough.

Staged for the media? Of course. But if you’re going to spend that much time and money burrowing, shouldn’t there be someone there to marvel and applaud when you get to the end?

“Hey Ma! See what I did!”

“Nice, honey. But look at all the mud on your pants!”

What is the most impressive thing you’ve ever done with a shovel?