They anticipate a historic voter turnout on November 4 despite the fact that many states now offer an early voting option to help relieve the crush at the polls on election day. Michigan doesn't have early voting, so I'd briefly considered applying for an absentee ballot this year but opted not to. There is just something about walking into our small township hall, creaking across the old wooden floor to greet my friends and neighbors, that resonates deeply of tradition and small-town values. For over 100 years our community has gathered in this simple place to cast our ballots, to be heard.
Inside the vintage white frame building on election day there is an almost-festive atmosphere, an air of anticipation. There is also a sense of fellowship. It's a social event, like attending a church potluck supper... well, except there's no supper. I already know the election officials will be familiar faces—Kathy, Russell, Dorothy, Waneta. Seasoned veterans. Occasionally there's a new face joining their ranks, a younger generation stepping up to the plate to pinch-hit for an old-timer. Isabel won't be working the election this year. She had a stroke recently and remains in rehab at the care center... I wonder who will fill her chair? Still, they will all know everyone who walks through the front door by sight and by name and have our paperwork at hand when we approach to sign in. And we all know that thing they do with our driver's license is just a formality to keep the boys in Washington happy.
Taking a seat to wait my turn on one of the dozen or so metal folding chairs they've placed in short rows in the middle of the room, I'll pass the time as I visit with the fellow next to me, indulge in a bit of gossip no doubt. I'll glance at my paperwork and know I'm the 36th voter so far today and wonder how crowded it will be when work gets out at 5. I'll know the first four voters were Kathy, Russell, Dorothy and Waneta and wonder once again how Isabel will be able to vote this year. I'll ask someone.
There are two voting "booths" in the back corner of the room. Constructed generations ago of white, painted tongue-and-groove pine, they resemble primitive bathroom stalls with short doors. When the spring stretched taut from the frame slams the door closed with a resounding BANG, I'll glance up to see who's just walked out of the booth, or could be I will have already recognized their legs peeking out from under the height of the door and smile in greeting as they shrug into their coat to head back outside.
Then I'll creak across the old wooden floor once more, a white, painted tongue-and-groove door slamming closed with a resounding BANG behind me as I slip my ballot into the machine.
I'll go there to vote, and I'll be glad that I did.
-- Gee Vee
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
H2O is Slipping Through the Cracks
A headline on MSNBC.com reports how smuggling out-of-state beverage containers into Michigan to collect the dime deposit has become a multi-million dollar industry. This shouldn't come as a real surprise to anyone; as the article points out, Kramer and Newman from Seinfeld tried the same scam years ago.
What I did find astonishing is the fact that only 11 states have a deposit law. How outrageous is that?
In an era when everyone is going "green," and we have never seemed to be more concerned with our environment, we still have 39 states that don't encourage recycling by mandating a deposit.
IMHO, it gets even worse. Here in Michigan, the deposit law only applies to carbonated beverage products. The bottlers now heavily market and promote flavored teas, energy drinks and even just plain H2O. No fizz, no deposit. Not only is colored sugar water cheap to make, they don't have to deal with the empties— a win/win for them.
You begin to appreciate just how powerful the bottler's lobbyists must be to prevent a nation-wide move to deposits on beverage containers . Well, that and the fact that we're probably not pushing harder for legislation because we don't want to deal with the empties, either. It's far more convenient to simply toss them in the garbage or out along the road.
Yes, I know many people are good about recycling their glass, paper, plastic and aluminum, but those folks are still a small minority. Unless our concern for the environment is just lip service, we should be hounding our legislators to make ALL sealed beverage containers refundable, everything from milk to soda to wine—everything, including water.
It might even encourage an entirely new business opportunity for companies that collect and process empties, saving dairies and small bottlers the expense of implementing the legislation in their own facilities.
Michigan has proven that deposit laws work. We simply need to make the process more comprehensive. We need to have greater control over beverage products that have found a loophole in the legislation.
And we need to see more states step up to the plate, enacting responsible legislation or be willing to turn the issue over to the federal government to mandate.
— Gee Vee
What I did find astonishing is the fact that only 11 states have a deposit law. How outrageous is that?
In an era when everyone is going "green," and we have never seemed to be more concerned with our environment, we still have 39 states that don't encourage recycling by mandating a deposit.
IMHO, it gets even worse. Here in Michigan, the deposit law only applies to carbonated beverage products. The bottlers now heavily market and promote flavored teas, energy drinks and even just plain H2O. No fizz, no deposit. Not only is colored sugar water cheap to make, they don't have to deal with the empties— a win/win for them.
You begin to appreciate just how powerful the bottler's lobbyists must be to prevent a nation-wide move to deposits on beverage containers . Well, that and the fact that we're probably not pushing harder for legislation because we don't want to deal with the empties, either. It's far more convenient to simply toss them in the garbage or out along the road.
Yes, I know many people are good about recycling their glass, paper, plastic and aluminum, but those folks are still a small minority. Unless our concern for the environment is just lip service, we should be hounding our legislators to make ALL sealed beverage containers refundable, everything from milk to soda to wine—everything, including water.
It might even encourage an entirely new business opportunity for companies that collect and process empties, saving dairies and small bottlers the expense of implementing the legislation in their own facilities.
Michigan has proven that deposit laws work. We simply need to make the process more comprehensive. We need to have greater control over beverage products that have found a loophole in the legislation.
And we need to see more states step up to the plate, enacting responsible legislation or be willing to turn the issue over to the federal government to mandate.
— Gee Vee
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Electricity is Warming the Cockles of my Heart!
The local gas companies purchased the propane fuel we use to heat our home months ago when crude oil prices were sky-high. It's kind of a crap shoot for them, I suppose. The way the trend had been running, if they waited to purchase the gas they would eventually sell us, the price we both would pay would be even higher this winter.
In recent weeks, however, the price of the crude oil they refine to produce our propane has tumbled to less than sixty-five dollars a barrel. Unfortunately, the cost of propane remains high, currently $2.369 a gallon—and that's shopping around for the best price in our region and owning our own tank. Many people are paying upwards of $.50 a gallon more.
So while we're seeing some relief at the gas pumps for our commute to work, trying to stay warm this winter is going to come at a very steep price. Is it any wonder people are looking for ways to trim their propane or fuel oil bill?
By comparison, electricity is still a bargain, relatively speaking. I first began to hear about friends purchasing small electric fireplaces and electric space heaters about two months ago. Since then almost everyone I know has been shopping for little electric heaters. The most popular of this genre seems to be the EdenPure. I haven't posted their link here as an advertisement but only to illustrate the type of products I'm seeing.
While visiting a friend's house about a month ago, my husband happened to talk to our local UPS driver while he was dropping off their new electric fireplace, a model with an Amish cabinet. The driver told him that he was delivering an average of five electric heaters-a-day to homes on his route—that's five heaters-a-day on his route, only! Can you imagine how many homes here in Northern Michigan now have electric space heaters in their living rooms?
Since mid-September we have been using a small oil-filled radiator-style Pelonis electric heater that my husband occasionally needs on residential construction sites. It sits between our chairs in the living room and has kept the room around seventy degrees during this crispy-cold fall. The rest of the house has stayed around sixty-five degrees. We haven't run our furnace at all.
We waited for the month's electric bill with some trepidation. When it came in Thursday's mail, we tore open the envelope to see the damage there.
Bottom Line: The one heater had added about $40 to a normal month's electric charges. This is substantially less, probably less than half the price we would have paid for propane over the same period.
Dan walked out to his shop and brought in a second Pelonis heater, placed it near the foot of the stairs in the foyer and plugged it in.
And even though the electric meter outside our house is spinning a little faster, I can't help but smile, feeling nice 'n toasty-warm from the inside-out!
-- Gee Vee
In recent weeks, however, the price of the crude oil they refine to produce our propane has tumbled to less than sixty-five dollars a barrel. Unfortunately, the cost of propane remains high, currently $2.369 a gallon—and that's shopping around for the best price in our region and owning our own tank. Many people are paying upwards of $.50 a gallon more.
So while we're seeing some relief at the gas pumps for our commute to work, trying to stay warm this winter is going to come at a very steep price. Is it any wonder people are looking for ways to trim their propane or fuel oil bill?
By comparison, electricity is still a bargain, relatively speaking. I first began to hear about friends purchasing small electric fireplaces and electric space heaters about two months ago. Since then almost everyone I know has been shopping for little electric heaters. The most popular of this genre seems to be the EdenPure. I haven't posted their link here as an advertisement but only to illustrate the type of products I'm seeing.
While visiting a friend's house about a month ago, my husband happened to talk to our local UPS driver while he was dropping off their new electric fireplace, a model with an Amish cabinet. The driver told him that he was delivering an average of five electric heaters-a-day to homes on his route—that's five heaters-a-day on his route, only! Can you imagine how many homes here in Northern Michigan now have electric space heaters in their living rooms?
Since mid-September we have been using a small oil-filled radiator-style Pelonis electric heater that my husband occasionally needs on residential construction sites. It sits between our chairs in the living room and has kept the room around seventy degrees during this crispy-cold fall. The rest of the house has stayed around sixty-five degrees. We haven't run our furnace at all.
We waited for the month's electric bill with some trepidation. When it came in Thursday's mail, we tore open the envelope to see the damage there.
Bottom Line: The one heater had added about $40 to a normal month's electric charges. This is substantially less, probably less than half the price we would have paid for propane over the same period.
Dan walked out to his shop and brought in a second Pelonis heater, placed it near the foot of the stairs in the foyer and plugged it in.
And even though the electric meter outside our house is spinning a little faster, I can't help but smile, feeling nice 'n toasty-warm from the inside-out!
-- Gee Vee
Friday, October 24, 2008
The Grim Harvest
Two days ago, I drove past a field dotted with Whitetail does foraging for their supper. Beyond the field, on the edge of woods stood a small buck—four or six points.
I like deer— to look at, not as venison.
When I was a teenager, our family's dinner table relied heavily on the bounty of produce we could grow in our fields, the chickens and rabbits we raised and the venison my father would harvest from the woods. We probably had venison for dinner two or three nights a week. We never complained. It was "what's for supper," and you didn't turn up your nose or you'd go hungry.
Now you can probably appreciate why, beyond the fact that venison has a distinctly stronger flavor I don't care for, I hope to never eat it again. But the other day, for the first time in over three decades, I saw that young buck as dinner on the hoof.
OMG! It occurred to me that if I am concerned enough about the economic insecurity of the cold, Michigan winter that lies just ahead, concerned enough to appreciate venison on our table, I know there must be many, many more people already in the woods in an effort to provide for their families. In fact, I suspect this may be a record year for deer license sales. The hunt will be in earnest, and there will probably be more deer taken home to fill the freezer than we've seen in a very long time.
I mentioned these predictions to a friend at work, and he agreed. He went on to tell me that he personally knows that violating out-of-season has already become a huge problem and a necessity for many families.
Another friend of ours lives down a quiet private road. Each year he grows and lovingly tends a small garden plot in his side yard. By then end of summer he's looking forward to the fresh vegetables his hard work has yielded. Imagine his outrage when he came home from town one day in August only to find that his garden had been picked bare while he was gone—even the green tomatoes had been stripped from the vine.
A sign of things to come?
On the news we hear that our grim economy echos the Great Depression.
Here at home, I can believe it.
-- Gee Vee
I like deer— to look at, not as venison.
When I was a teenager, our family's dinner table relied heavily on the bounty of produce we could grow in our fields, the chickens and rabbits we raised and the venison my father would harvest from the woods. We probably had venison for dinner two or three nights a week. We never complained. It was "what's for supper," and you didn't turn up your nose or you'd go hungry.
Now you can probably appreciate why, beyond the fact that venison has a distinctly stronger flavor I don't care for, I hope to never eat it again. But the other day, for the first time in over three decades, I saw that young buck as dinner on the hoof.
OMG! It occurred to me that if I am concerned enough about the economic insecurity of the cold, Michigan winter that lies just ahead, concerned enough to appreciate venison on our table, I know there must be many, many more people already in the woods in an effort to provide for their families. In fact, I suspect this may be a record year for deer license sales. The hunt will be in earnest, and there will probably be more deer taken home to fill the freezer than we've seen in a very long time.
I mentioned these predictions to a friend at work, and he agreed. He went on to tell me that he personally knows that violating out-of-season has already become a huge problem and a necessity for many families.
Another friend of ours lives down a quiet private road. Each year he grows and lovingly tends a small garden plot in his side yard. By then end of summer he's looking forward to the fresh vegetables his hard work has yielded. Imagine his outrage when he came home from town one day in August only to find that his garden had been picked bare while he was gone—even the green tomatoes had been stripped from the vine.
A sign of things to come?
On the news we hear that our grim economy echos the Great Depression.
Here at home, I can believe it.
-- Gee Vee
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Doom and Gloom
As I scroll through the guide on TV, I am astounded by the number of programs that forecast death and disaster on an apocalyptic scale.
There are comets and supervolcanos, mega-tsunamis and mega-quakes, even tales of Armageddon in all its diverse scenarios. We pour over the works by Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce looking for predictions and feel a little disconcerted as the conclusion of the Mayan calendar looms just ahead-- the End of Days. There is the ever-present threat of nuclear holocaust and a runaway greenhouse effect that could eventually trigger a snowball Earth event... or maybe the super-massive black hole at the center of our galaxy will gobble us up!
What is it about our psychological makeup that causes us to obsess over the destruction of mankind? Why do we watch these shows with such morbid fascination? I mean, we must be watching or they wouldn't continue to produce so many in this genre, right?
Was early man just as haunted by the prospect of a cataclysmic catastrophe? Were the prophesies in the Book of Revelation simply the biblical version of "It Could Happen Tomorrow"? Are we so tormented by the inevitability of our own demise that we figure if we've gotta go we're damn well taking the rest of the world with us?
Is it any wonder we can't sleep at night?
--Gee Vee
There are comets and supervolcanos, mega-tsunamis and mega-quakes, even tales of Armageddon in all its diverse scenarios. We pour over the works by Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce looking for predictions and feel a little disconcerted as the conclusion of the Mayan calendar looms just ahead-- the End of Days. There is the ever-present threat of nuclear holocaust and a runaway greenhouse effect that could eventually trigger a snowball Earth event... or maybe the super-massive black hole at the center of our galaxy will gobble us up!
What is it about our psychological makeup that causes us to obsess over the destruction of mankind? Why do we watch these shows with such morbid fascination? I mean, we must be watching or they wouldn't continue to produce so many in this genre, right?
Was early man just as haunted by the prospect of a cataclysmic catastrophe? Were the prophesies in the Book of Revelation simply the biblical version of "It Could Happen Tomorrow"? Are we so tormented by the inevitability of our own demise that we figure if we've gotta go we're damn well taking the rest of the world with us?
Is it any wonder we can't sleep at night?
--Gee Vee
Monday, October 20, 2008
"Professorial"
The 2008 presidential campaign has captured the attention of not only Americans but the world-at-large. There is a real sense that, even beyond our borders, citizens of the global community appreciate that the outcome of this pivotal election may have a very profound impact on the course of history.
The recent financial crisis is a brutal and stark reminder of how connected we all are. Like ripples in a pond, the near-catastrophic events on Wall Street have sent wave after wave of economic woe to all corners of the world.
As governments scramble to mitigate the damage, people are angry. They feel the loss of personal wealth and economic prosperity hitting not only close to home but right at home. It has been a perfect storm of calamities that continues to escalate, compounding the difficulties of an already strained world market.
What next? We wait with baited breath for a national election wondering, knowing, at some gut-instinct level that our choice of leadership here and now may decide the tide of fortune for an entire generation to come.
Am I being melodramatic? Not at all. The world is angry and we are angry. Yet despite the fury, even through our bitter disappointment and frustrated rage, we want to see America rise to the occasion. We want the one country that has symbolized opportunity and prosperity to lead us through these troubled times with a steady hand, sound crisis management and enough confidence to spill over beyond its borders, to nourish and enrich the masses far and wide.
I've been closely following the presidential debates. I have heard the analysts condemn Barack Obama for sounding too "professorial" at times. By their very derisiveness, I assume this isn't meant as a compliment, and I wonder at that. Do they mean he occasionally uses words that are beyond the vocabulary of "Joe Six-Pack America"? Or do they mean that he's lecturing as if from some elevated position high above lesser mortals while at his podium? A bit of both?
The way I see it, we spend big $$$ to go to college, to have a professor stand before us and lecture. We almost presuppose he/she will throw a few $50 words our way because we haven't come expecting the wisdom here to be doled out at a sixth grade level.
I am reminded of a government teacher I had in high school who was roundly criticized by the students for using big words. However, he refused to compromise his standards stating that he intended for us to strive to function at a higher level, not to bring himself down to ours. He was trying to prepare us for the loftier academic paradigm we'd encounter beyond twelfth grade. Ultimately, his classes were still the most sought-after in school. We might have complained, but we still craved his approval, the knowledge that we could rise to the challenges he presented and achieve a measure of success by virtue of his superior leadership skills.
Likewise, we expect the person who will lead this country through these grim and difficult times to inspire and hold us to a higher standard, not only here at home but abroad as well. We want to show the world that "America" still stands for excellence and opportunity. We want him to lead by example. We shouldn't expect the next leader of this country to compromise his standards in order to placate a lazy, indifferent minority. We should expect the person we choose to lead from our country's highest office to be most excellent, and we should not allow ourselves to settle for anything less.
--Gee Vee
The recent financial crisis is a brutal and stark reminder of how connected we all are. Like ripples in a pond, the near-catastrophic events on Wall Street have sent wave after wave of economic woe to all corners of the world.
As governments scramble to mitigate the damage, people are angry. They feel the loss of personal wealth and economic prosperity hitting not only close to home but right at home. It has been a perfect storm of calamities that continues to escalate, compounding the difficulties of an already strained world market.
What next? We wait with baited breath for a national election wondering, knowing, at some gut-instinct level that our choice of leadership here and now may decide the tide of fortune for an entire generation to come.
Am I being melodramatic? Not at all. The world is angry and we are angry. Yet despite the fury, even through our bitter disappointment and frustrated rage, we want to see America rise to the occasion. We want the one country that has symbolized opportunity and prosperity to lead us through these troubled times with a steady hand, sound crisis management and enough confidence to spill over beyond its borders, to nourish and enrich the masses far and wide.
I've been closely following the presidential debates. I have heard the analysts condemn Barack Obama for sounding too "professorial" at times. By their very derisiveness, I assume this isn't meant as a compliment, and I wonder at that. Do they mean he occasionally uses words that are beyond the vocabulary of "Joe Six-Pack America"? Or do they mean that he's lecturing as if from some elevated position high above lesser mortals while at his podium? A bit of both?
The way I see it, we spend big $$$ to go to college, to have a professor stand before us and lecture. We almost presuppose he/she will throw a few $50 words our way because we haven't come expecting the wisdom here to be doled out at a sixth grade level.
I am reminded of a government teacher I had in high school who was roundly criticized by the students for using big words. However, he refused to compromise his standards stating that he intended for us to strive to function at a higher level, not to bring himself down to ours. He was trying to prepare us for the loftier academic paradigm we'd encounter beyond twelfth grade. Ultimately, his classes were still the most sought-after in school. We might have complained, but we still craved his approval, the knowledge that we could rise to the challenges he presented and achieve a measure of success by virtue of his superior leadership skills.
Likewise, we expect the person who will lead this country through these grim and difficult times to inspire and hold us to a higher standard, not only here at home but abroad as well. We want to show the world that "America" still stands for excellence and opportunity. We want him to lead by example. We shouldn't expect the next leader of this country to compromise his standards in order to placate a lazy, indifferent minority. We should expect the person we choose to lead from our country's highest office to be most excellent, and we should not allow ourselves to settle for anything less.
--Gee Vee
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Introduction
"Live and learn," they say.
However, they also say "the third time's the charm." I probably should know better, but here I go again--another blog.
I can't seem to help myself. For me, writing has always been more than a hobby; it has been an addiction and a passion. I've tried at times over the years to explain this compulsion to express myself through the written word to my friends and my family, but mostly they just don't get it.
That's okay. I've never understood another person's crazy impulse to throw themselves from a bridge by a bungee cord or out of a plane with a parachute, but I assume they find something about the experience that, for them, is just as gratifying.
I have learned a few things from my past endeavors, pitfalls that I hope to avoid this go 'round because I've just recalled that they also say, "Strike three! You're out!"
Not to worry; I hope you'll stick around to watch me hit this one out of the park!
--Gee Vee
However, they also say "the third time's the charm." I probably should know better, but here I go again--another blog.
I can't seem to help myself. For me, writing has always been more than a hobby; it has been an addiction and a passion. I've tried at times over the years to explain this compulsion to express myself through the written word to my friends and my family, but mostly they just don't get it.
That's okay. I've never understood another person's crazy impulse to throw themselves from a bridge by a bungee cord or out of a plane with a parachute, but I assume they find something about the experience that, for them, is just as gratifying.
I have learned a few things from my past endeavors, pitfalls that I hope to avoid this go 'round because I've just recalled that they also say, "Strike three! You're out!"
Not to worry; I hope you'll stick around to watch me hit this one out of the park!
--Gee Vee
