Dreams of an American Airstream Home

And a boy like this. Note the octopus.

Read articles about these homes here: http://www.jetsongreen.com/2009/05/green-renovation-livingreen-airstream-altbuild-2009.html# and http://www.dwell.com/articles/the-airstream-life.html.

Very cool video. Major props, OK Go.

Reasons why we are not in an energy crisis:

• During the Christmas season Americans decorate their homes with lights. These lights burn from as little as one hour to 24 hours each day.
• 254.4 million registered passenger vehicles are added to the US roadway each year. There are 7 gallons of oil in every one of those tires.
• Plastic becomes the standard material in almost all industries.
• Green/alternative energy continues to be our last resort.
• Road infrastructures, consisting primarily of asphalt, aka. Oil, continue to be expanded and built even in the midst of a huge economic recession.
• It takes 30 years to change an infrastructure given we know what to change it to and we have the capital to do so, yet we haven’t began to change our failing one.

Reasons why we are in an energy crisis:

• 60 % of oil can be found in the Middle East and US imports 70 % of their oil from them.
• Oil peaked in the 1960s (we all refuse to admit this).
• Humans consume on average 10 calories of hydrocarbon energy in every calorie of food consumed in the industrialized world, before cooking.
• People continue to be afraid of the dark.
• Denial is our biggest problem.
• Power continues to be concentrated in the hands of the wealthy.
• The US constitutes 5 percent of the world population and uses 25 % of the world energy.
• The 1st law of thermodynamics: Nothing can be created or destroyed. All that’s here is here. Or in the words of Porky the Pig: “that’s all folks”.

A foreign dream, another life.

I imagine you both slipping into a internet café to reconnect with the other side of the world for a brief moment in your day. Your gloved hand slips foreign coins into slots. The chink, chink, chink registering time and energy. You double click on the internet icon to commence your time. This starts a whirlwind of reminiscing since the last time you connected to “the other half”, as you like to call them now. The time ticks away faster than you expect. Your sabbatical has left you envisioned. And now that he is here, now that you have met him, everything has changed. You both are exhausted, dirty, thin, but you see him across the café, eyes focused on the screen, fingers rhythmically taping out his thought process, nothing else matters. Your hands are no longer numb as ice, your typing becomes a little faster, your memory a little better. You unzip your jacket. You take off your hat. You immerse yourself into this foreign world. You blend in. You live.

Hey sha rah, hey sha rah, yeah.

It walks. It use to smell like my dad, but now it smells like an odd mix of who I use to be and my ex. It also smells like snow. It is much older than me. It sees but cannot speak. Its silence is frustrating, but also protective. It never grows tired, or cold. It only grows old. It is faithful (to almost anybody). It used to be a good friend. It is made to last and will live a long time, maybe for the rest of my life, but I will never know of it. It is no longer with me. It is gone. It has abandoned all hope and so have I. It has traveled many places, maybe more than me. It likes all weather, but its favorite is cold, though it can do without the wind. It secretly dreams about being a crocodile. It has a warming effect on your soul.

It tells a story. Its story is complex. Listen closely you may hear it. It speaks of history and the truth, but not in a language that is easily understandable. I never heard it until it was gone, but I also never thought to listen while it was near. Now I hear it every day.

I have come to terms with losing my favorite sweater.

It is December.

Lazily, I look back on 2010 and reflect. Where has it gone? What have I done that I am proud of? Nothing?

It is Christmas time. The Crossroads shopping center’s Christmas tree was put up more than a month ago, announcing the season of spending. A small elf in a red velvet suit smirks at me each morning as I leave my apartment for work.When I return in the dark, he is the first thing I see as the orange glow from the night floods my open entryway. Our eyes meet. What does he do during the day? What is he smirking about? What does he know?

It is not cold. How can it be December without bitter wind, below freezing temperatures, and flashing lights of salt trucks?

I replace my fridge calendar. Goodbye furry friends with long pink ham tongues and puppy dog looks. Hello European landscapes and exotic places. Will I get to visit you in 2011?

‘Tis the Season.