Cold River #frozen (at Yakima River)
Endless Beer #IsThisRealLife? #wheretobegin #beeraisle http://ift.tt/1bkM9q0
34 min #TurkeyTrot http://ift.tt/1jO8Fg4
A poster from the recent Occupy Portland protests called Hanford “North America’s Fukushima.” That isn’t just left-wing, anti-corporate fear mongering – a catastrophic accident involving radioactive waste scares the two most prominent Hanford whistle-blowers, nuclear engineer Walter L. Tamosaitis, fired from the site last month, and Donna Busche, a nuclear safety compliance officer who remains employed by URS, a Hanford subcontractor, even as her legal complaints – which include allegations of everything from pressure to downplay safety concerns to sexual harassment – proceed. Unprompted, Busche told Newsweek she is worried about “when ‘Fukushima Day’ hits.”
Oh you mean Home?
— Herman Melville - Moby Dick, or The Whale
“Monsanto tells us that their products are about the best thing to come along since sliced bread. For years they’ve been promising that GMOs would reduce pesticide use, increase yields, reduce water consumption, and offer foods that are more tasty and
Damned by Chuck Palahniuk
I’m reading this one day after I attended a “Celebration of Life” service for a recently departed friend’s father. The service got me thinking about my own mortality. You see, Brian had made a lot of friends in his 60+ years of life. The service gave many of those friend’s an opportunity to share the stories they have and any memories of him that help paint the picture of who he was. As a lawyer-turned-judge, many of the people who knew him well come from a long line of public speakers who were all more than capable of creating an image of this man that you know won’t soon leave them. It’s the stories that really got me thinking about myself. The people in attendance were a Who’s Who in the community of powerful people. The man knew important people and he made them friends. Each one portraying Brian as if you too knew him for forty years. As I sat there listening to all of what people had to say, I wondered what people would say about me when I’m gone. I don’t know the kind of people he knows. It worries to think about my friends and family would say about me. I don’t want to leave it up to them. I want it to be my accomplishments or work that speaks for itself.
I’ve often told myself that I’m not afraid of death, which is probably true. What I am afraid of, however, is what i leave behind. Brian was a member of the UW Hall of Fame and even tried out for the US Olympic Crew Team, just missing out attending the ‘72 Olympics on a technicality. He was a good athlete, never smoked, and made friends with everyone. In comparison, I’m an introvert who has accomplished next to nothing and still live at home. I understand he has me in years but by the time he was my age, he had already done so much. You sense a bit of self loathing and it’s true, it’s there. As a reader of Hunter S. Thompson, I think I’m beginning to understand the combination of Fear and Loathing. It’s a brutal cocktail that leads to no good and I drink from it far too often. Optimism has never been my strong suit.
Damned and the service the other day has put me in a strange place, one I haven’t been in as an adult. Prior to high school graduation I had already attended six funerals of relatives and people I know. It doesn’t necessarily prepare you for future events. Being my first service as an adult brought to light that I am soon to have an adult life of my own, complete with a family, a survivable income and, more importantly, a legacy. While I can understand that life isn’t forever, a legacy is. That’s the root of my fear. That’s the root of my loathing. Regardless of what I accomplish (or don’t), a trace of what I was survives forever in the stories and memories that I’ve left behind. And while that’s all great, my concern isn’t what others think of me when I’m gone, it’ll be whether or not what I’m satisfied by what I’ve left.