Showing posts with label self reliance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self reliance. Show all posts

November 21, 2008

Trash Gurus



For the past few months, I've been in the Oakland hills, staying with my friends, Marty and Chantelise, who have let me set up camp in their back house "hippie shack" (as I call it). It's a quirky little place, made out of recycled wood (a chicken coop found on Craigslist) and windows from an Oakland mansion that was torn down.

That the cottage is made out of re-used materials is part of a greater philosophy that, to my Los Angeles mindset, makes Marty and Chentelise seem like the ultimate Northern Californians. Beyond driving biodiesel cars, and growing their own food, they don't generate any garbage that isn't compostable or recyclable. They don't even use toothpaste because the tubes create gratuitous garbage. Instead, they've switched to tooth powder that comes in a recyclable box.

Much as I've integrated into non-chemical life here on "the farm," my days at the hippie shack could be numbered. I've decided to stay in the Bay Area an extra three months, and am still waiting to hear back about whether Marty and Chantelise want their cottage -- normally Chantelise's office and yoga space -- back. In the meantime, I've been scouring Craigslist. Today, I Iooked at a house for rent in the Rockridge district.

It was an uninviting craftsman with a large front porch and thrashed built-in cabinetry. I liked it. While the owner showed me into the kitchen, another woman came to see it, who immediately complained about the light, and asked much better questions than I did. Like, Would the tenant have to buy garbage cans from the city and pay for trash pick up?

I told them about Marty and Chantelise's packaging-phobic relationship to garbage, and how it had changed the way I think about throwing things out. The woman lit up. As it turns out, she'd had a roommate who'd saved all his garbage for a year as an experiment. "I've heard of that guy!'" I exclaimed. Marty had told me all about him, and cited him as one of his big inspirations. Now here I was talking to Marty's trash-guru's former roommate... What a small world.

I got home and googled Ari Derfel, who is one of two men who did identical year-long garbage experiments. The other is Dave Chameides, who I read about in a blog post written by Madeleine Brand, who happens to host the NPR show I contribute to (Day To Day). What a coincidence.

The world gets smaller. A good thing to remember when thinking about trash.

November 8, 2008

Morningstar Ranch and Wheeler Ranch: Two Online Scrapbooks



Flipping through the pages of The Last Whole Earth Catalog, I came across a photo of naked people lounging around in a disheveled yert with chickens. From the caption, I learned it was an open door Sonoma County commune from the late 60s, Morningstar Ranch.

Riddled by legal battles with hostile neighbors, the commune's landlord and leader, Lou Gottlieb, hoped to save his colony by deeding the property to God. This scrapbook documents the life and death of Morningside Ranch, who are said to have been diggers, and I think Peter Cayote lived there.

After being driven from their land, some of Morningstar's refugees wound up at the nearby, equally doomed, Wheeler Ranch:






Also. The Security Photos series is worth reading about and looking at.

The Last Whole Earth Catalog, 1971



There's no one I'd rather spend the day with than The Last Whole Earth Catalog (1971). But inspired by it as I am, I'm too lazy to go out and hunt and forage for my own meal, so I've decided to instead, harness my energies by time traveling back to 1971, where I'll freely be able to order some of the catalog's intriguing books:

1. The Wilderness Cabin (Log construction, site selection, use of heavy timber tools)
2. The Dome Cookbook
3. Goat Husbandry
4. American Indian Medicine
5. How To Make Booze
6. The Israel Army Physical Fitness Handbook
7. Open Land: A Manifesto
8. The Human Use Of Human Beings
9. The Amateur Archaeologist's Handbook
10. Wood Heat Quarterly

Steve Jobs sees the Whole Earth Catalog as having been the precursor to the internet. Flipping through it, I can see why. Its oversized pages are a dense jumble of how-to diagrams, hippie manifestos, and homespun visions of self reliance that have me fantasizing about building a bark teepee in the woods.




Browse entire editions online, or, buy used copies of The Last Whole Earth Catalog Access to Tools at Amazon.