Tent Cities

A friend here in the mountains called me this morning and related a story he'd seen on television the other day. A story about tent cities in Sacramento. After explaining that he was channel surfing and just happened to catch the story (and normally does not watch Oprah), he then reiterated the story of the tent city emerging next to the river in Sacramento. A 'community' of the homeless, the jobless, and other victims of hard times, or themselves, or the predatory bankers, or the boogie man. Everybody has a story. The place is growing by 50 tents a day. With the publicity the story has gotten recently, I'm sure it's going to swell.
By coincidence I was watching Larry King last night hosted by Ali Velshi, the CNN money man who has been telling people to ride out the stock market throughout the 7,000 point downfall. He was interviewing Kevin Johnson about, you guessed it, the tent city. I think several of the residents were former clients of Ali, back when they had money... and the real loser is, yes, Sacramento.
I know it's said that any publicity is good publicity, but in this case I respectfully disagree. I could be wrong though; yesterday I watched a story on Detroit property prices, where houses, nice houses, are selling for $10,000 and less. Since then I've been thinking about Detroit real estate. Today, they interviewed a Detroit newsman about the story and, according to him, the nightmare started there about five years ago with automaker layoffs that continue to this day and the property prices that have fallen and now reflect just 10% of what they were. Can you imagine?
Listening to the newsman, I could feel his personal shock and disbelief as he described the residents waiting and waiting and waiting, and yet still no bottom is approaching to their deteriorating world.
And so back to the tent city... let's say, hypothetically, that the tent city grows by 50 tents a day for 5 years.....that's 91,250 tents. Other than the obvious, now would be a good time to invest in canvas, or maybe porta-potties.
I have read a little of the Great Depression and these tent cities were common back then. I remember reading stories about the Federal Government battling the residents over squatting in certain places. Sacramento might eventually have those type of problems; if one were going to squat in a tent, Sacramento would be a lot better climate-wise than other places. The place could be a magnet for the needy. What an opportunity, the whole hippy movement could re-emerge from the city in the valley where the two rivers meet. That probably sounds good to the people who have already met the boogie man and predatory banker, but those that are still in pocket probably aren't so enthusiastic about living in a loser magnet city.
I can't wait to return.

Dogs

My nephew called me today. He said it was about time to bring his dog up here to live, that BooBoo (the dog) had shit on the floor for the third day in a row and he was done with her. I considered whether or not living with two dogs rather than one would make me less lonely. I decided not, so I made my nephew a better offer: I told him the dog could come and live with me if he came too!

On the surface it looks like a selfish offer, I know: I want company. Actually it is a very generous offer when you consider THE TURMOIL OF YOUTH, and that he has to find a new "place" in thirty days

See, I'd have company (probably be tired of his ass in three days, he's always tired of me after 72 hours), but he'd get to keep his dog, and he'd get free rent, and he'd get a stable home for him and his dog, and all without a deposit, first and last, and references. He wouldn't have to falsify income either. He would have to get a job. Remember all those hassles?

I got up today lonely. I'm tired of having nothing to do but work and no one to share my misery with. I've been home two days from Sacramento. I miss many things. Friends. Family. Wife. The weather: Sacramento is a paradise weather-wise. I think one has to live elsewhere from the valley to realize how comfortable it is. I discussed Sacramento with my mother. Her leaving Sacramento after fifty years and moving to Grants Pass was really a return to her home: She grew up on a farm outside of Myrtle Creek, Oregon. She's very happy with her move. I grew up in Sacramento. I'm lonely.

Mom will be eighty years old this July. She's joined the Grants Pass garden club, a church, a widows group. She wants to make friends and have a full life. I am invited to meet people. I decline. I have no interest. I languish in my loneliness and make little effort to resolve the problem. It is not people I miss.

It has been below freezing every night here. I still build a fire every day to take the chill out of the air. There is a lot of work involved when one lives in the mountains. Especially in a cabin that still needs the plumbing and is heated by a wood burning stove. Spring is so wonderful.Summer will be better.

I think about my next move: Should I look for property in the mountains I can pay cash for, then rent a place in Sacramento? or re-invest in the valley and return to the city? or go to China and teach for a while? I'll have to SELL first, and China is out because I have a dog. I can't give Shep up, we're partners!

My nephew's call reminds me of why I moved to the Mountains in the first place: I could no longer afford my home in the city but I absolutely needed a base , a home, stability, a sanctuary with a yard for the dog. It terrified me to think of being a renter while I watched the rest of my assets disappear ( fools and money, I knew I needed to re-invest, quickly). I remember being homeless, money in the bank didn't negate the fears, Those six weeks before I found Happy Camp road were horrid!

Happy Camp road is still all it was before: I realize it's Hell Explained that is making life not worth living...............Google will take you there if you don't understand : It's really a question of here or her. And if it's not her then China may be the answer, in which case this will be a great place to return to. Maybe I should take BooBoo for Shep?

City-Lag

The frost on the ground is barely surviving in the warmth of a coming rainstorm. The thick fog that covers Illinois valley, a fog I normally look down upon like a white sea from my perch on the mountain, slowly is crawling up sleepy valley canyon, veiling the world with a sheer nightgown of mist. High thin clouds, pink in the morning sun, will soon give way to thick, dark clouds and rain .The slow, beautiful, serene world of the mountains.

Compared to the stimulation and excitement of the city; the fast paced, twelve lane highways at rush hour, fast food, all night everything, all those people trying to squeeze as much life as possible out of every moment as they scramble full speed through their daily routine. It is understandable why returning to the mountains can result in city-lag (society is not always really such a rat race).
Our next door neighbor in California, Darryl, had rats infesting the whole neighborhood from their base in the boxed-in eaves on his garage; one summer evening just before dark I watched them from the roof of the house exit from a hole in the eave and gather on the roof of his carport. It was like a Disney movie; old fat rats walking slowly and sniffing, young rats wrestling, playing, and all the rats in their prime racing from the carport roof to the pecan tree. It's limbs overhanging the roof, and all of the rats streaking through the neighborhood via the trees. It was a commune, not a society.
The ant world is more of a society, with the hill as the city. One ant out on an adventure, sees the sun going down and decides to head home. As he returns to the hill, other ants returning from their day join him. The closer they get to the hill, the more ants there are, until their lines get thicker, multi-directional, full of worker ants, foragers, scouts etc. The ant speed of movement increases proportionately in their distance from the hill. Suddenly there is a hurry. Movement more purposeful and straight. There is more control and supervision, larger enforcement ants and traffic direction, more societal requirements. The door is crazy. Ants bumping into each other. Ants bringing in leaves. Ants everywhere. Move or get walked on. There is no time to wander back and forth looking for grasshopper limbs, no time to explore cracks; one might get in the way, or an enforcer ant could get the wrong impression.

First of course is the drop in blood pressure and the natural lull after the rush. The senses relax without the constant radars up that are necessary in the city. Secondly is the realization that the party is over and it's back to cooking for oneself (two more weeks and it's Webber time). The convenience of fast food and restaurants, a poor man's fantasy. Reality can be depressing. Another realization is it's hard to be lazy in the mountains: find and cut firewood, move large rocks onto the driveway and crush them with a sledgehammer, keep the fire in the stove burning.
City-lag is like being lazy; depressing to know there are lots of things to do and all work! Work isn't exciting like the city. It's work, but without the work I'm bored. The city was fun. Fun takes money. Money takes work.
Finally, normally the second or third night back, you sleep fourteen or fifteen hours and wake up with your senses running at mountain speed. Akin to four or five deep breaths after a fast dash."There's no hurry now." The return to a world unobstructed with urban sprawl and strip-malls, devoid of traffic and people, and nary a neighbor I can see. I've been back nine days and not been once approached by a panhandler. The only company I've had is a friend and the neighbor's dogs on their passing stroll to the school bus stop. Plenty to sniff there before returning home. The good life.
My friend showed up two days after my return from the city. He works at the hardware store. He arrived with a six-pack of Corona and a bottle of Clamato juice. He loves my glass-shack. The shack has a certain lure to the cowboying, frontier male in all of us.
My friend owes a large mortgage, is 52, and has 28 years left on his mortgage. If not for his wife (I hear that a lot), he'd prefer to live in a shack next to the national forest, and own it in five years. He would like to retire in ten years. "Ten years is a long time," I tell him, "but something will happen. Have faith."
The evening view is spectacular. Still suffering from city-lag, as he talks I feel better; I remember to count my blessings. I think about that commercial, "You don't need a nip and tuck, you need a plan." Oregon has been my plan for twenty years. I'm here. At 51 I'm comfortable. The pace and relaxed state is good for me.
The city-lag releases it's grip. The clamato-beer is good. My friend leaves and I'm grateful for the visit. Suddenly, I remember with earnest again that life is wonderful, every miserable moment.
Be happy.

My Vision

...is much clearer then people realize; from my perch I see the world.
Aaahhhh.....but am I clairvoyant? Nothing special, like all computers of some sort I assimilate information and draw conclusions. Here's one; people in the California city in the valley where the two rivers meet don't think of it as low lying land. Like Bangladesh, or New Orleans, or some of the Gulf states, that valley is as susceptible to 'coastal flooding' as the coast. Additionally, unlike the coast (which has the sea rising on one side), the valley must deal with draining first. The valley city in question's official elevation is 17 feet above sea level. Is that the valley floor? I don't know, but the important measurement is the elevation of the riverBED. In other words: how many feet does the ocean have to rise before that river quits flowing? Or just becomes sluggish? Salt water is already invading the delta... Rivers flow downhill. It will not be a matter of channeling water, it will be a matter of drainage. That valley is an inland sea in the future. Who will see it? WE will! The future is now.
Those catastrophic climatic changes that will happen over fifty years due to a three degree rise in the earths temperature... well, we're already two degrees there; the last degree won't take the rest of those fifty years. Can I see this? Only because studies and scientists all over the world are pointing to the change. And some of the documented psychics foretold it happening around 2012-13. 'The world will end as we know it'. Which indicates to me that mankind will not end, but civilization might.
How you live, and whether you live, might come down to where you live in the near future. What's the near future? As long as I live must be considered the near future, so ok... fifty-four years, or 2061.
Now using my twisted mind to do some figuring (even if it takes until 2050) that valley is going to see a earth changing catastrophe in the near future! And believe me (which you don't) 2020 is a lot more likely as the outside date if global warming continues as it has. So far the warming rate is exceeding all expectations.
What am I stupid? Have I been looking into crystal balls? 12 years ain't that far away? Look at the rainfall records broken this year... records shattered all over the world, but that valley is exempt? Now is the time... Sell! Live there if you must, but take your money and re-invest out of the cities. Go somewhere you can buy land and pay cash. Somewhere safe in a mountains, where the weather is conducive to farming with a small town or city nearby. Do it now! Then, your Safe-haven will be waiting and paid for! Just rent till your retirement checks go to the bank.
Then, IF there is a catastrophe, or you have to wait ten years to retire, and don't want to give the entire 'baby boomer' generation a head start on you, you will already be set!

Of course I wouldn't be so Brazen as to tell you how to live, or what's good for you, or what you ought to do. And you'll be smart to remember; only a fool would take advice from a twisted mind seeing the world from a hermit's perch! I write this to everybody and once again am seen as the asshole wishing everybody to doom. DUM DA DUM DUM.