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Wednesday, March 18, 2020 The Nugget Newspaper, Sisters, Oregon
In the
PINES
By T. Lee Brown
Hurts like
a banshee
I9ve been wanting to write
a column for weeks. Folks
around town have asked
about Part Two of my mus-
ings on the book <In Defense
of Elitism.= Well, some stuff
came up.
Health has a funny way
of keenly focusing one9s
priorities. Medical care and
emotional well-being float
to the top, right up there with
family.
Can9t drive, due to ver-
tigo? Meetings and errands
are limited. Can9t type, due to
excruciating pain in the hand?
Writing assignments lie fal-
low. (The dictation software
I9m reluctantly attempting to
use just offered up, <Writing
assignments life fellow.=
Sounds like a new faculty
position at Cambridge.)
Ain9t got health, or, as
my computer would have it,
<Eight got health?= Ain9t got
much. Many of us are think-
ing about that these days. If
we are not worried about the
state of our own bodies, we
are worried about spreading
viruses to vulnerable people
in our community.
Today, as I write this, St.
Charles has announced the
first case of COVID-19 coro-
navirus in Central Oregon.
People are dying far away.
Closer to home, events and
gatherings are being canceled
right and left (I use those par-
ticular words with intention).
It9s hard to focus on <elitism=
with all this going on.
The uncertainty is mad-
dening. As of today, my son is
still instructed to go to school,
so it seems fairly likely that
my family could get the virus.
I like to think that our partic-
ular health issues won9t put
us at risk for being seriously
damaged by this thing.
Nagging at the back of my
mind, though, is the knowl-
edge that I could be wrong.
We could pull him out of
school, hole up out here in
the woods, and disappear.
It might be better for us. It
might be better for our friends
and compatriots, some of
whom are older.
If the virus grinds school
and capitalism to a halt, my
son and I could have fun.
Health allowing, and assum-
ing that the grownups didn9t
have to work much, we could
do real things. Bake muffins
and build forts. Sing songs
and read books.
We could spend some time
writing our play, <Butterbean!
The Musical.=* Experiment
with new uses for the pine
needles we gotta rake up, or
heck, just burn 8em as usual.
On the other hand, we
might drive each other nuts.
When our family lived in a
small travel trailer, on the
road or in the woods, I sure
had some omg-get-me-out-
of-here moments. Though we
were in motion, our tiny cir-
cle of togetherness sometimes
made me stir-crazy.
Holing up might be over-
reactive, self-indulgent para-
noia. Might lead to a fear-
based, isolated life where
relationships beyond our
immediate household are
reduced solely to what tech-
nology can deliver.
We9ve seen how technol-
ogy has affected our soci-
ety, weaseling its way into
our every interaction. It ain9t
pretty. It9s splintered us. It9s
set us up to be heavily, relent-
lessly manipulated4for
political gain and financial
profit.
P e o p l e 9s c o n v e r s a -
tions used to be meaning-
ful, private or small-group
exchanges, punctuated here
and there by the public talk
of books, newspapers, and
lectures. Now interpersonal
conversation on all levels
is extracted by Big Data
corporations.
Relationship is beautiful,
natural, maybe even sacred. A
true connection between real
human beings emits a holy
spark of wonder and joy.
But now, relationships are
fodder for mind control and
advertising, thanks to our
reliance on our ever-spying
phones, apps, and devices.
Read Jaron Lanier9s <Ten
Arguments for Deleting Your
Social Media Accounts Right
Now= or Doug Rushkoff9s
<Team Human= if you think
I9m exaggerating. Or just
cheat and check out their
TED talks.
If I hide out in my pines,
conducting work, friendships,
and community relationships
via Internet4would that be
a noble sacrifice for the bet-
terment of humanity, slow-
ing the spread of the virus?
Or just another capitulation
to media paranoia and social
fragmentation? Or, as the
computer prefers, <social
fermentation=?
Realizing that my alleged
column is going nowhere, I
indulge my habit of checking
my email too often. A mes-
sage arrives, a friend won-
dering whether the spring
equinox walk at Sisters
Community Labyrinth on
March 19 will be canceled.
C9mon, I think. It9s usu-
ally just a handful of people,
not trapped in an airplane or
a big city. We9ll be outside,
where mountain air circu-
lates. Won9t that be safe?
It occurs to me that I won9t
have to hole up completely in
the weeks ahead. Maybe we
can socialize outside, under
the pines. That9s my favorite
place anyway. We could even
turn off our personal track-
ing devices, errr, I mean, our
phones.
My word-count is way
over and my hand hurts like
heck. Knowing I overuse the
word heck, I type <hurts like a
4= into the environmentally
friendly Ecosia search engine.
It pops up hurts like a mofo, a
knife, a thorn, and a banshee.
Hurts like a banshee? Is
that really a thing?
I prefer columns that are
well-written, thought-provok-
ing, nicely edited. I sure don9t
have that in me this wild,
confusing week. Maybe next
week everything will settle
down and I can get back to
contemplating elitism and
other abstract issues.
For now? I9m right here,
in my difficult but miraculous
body, surrounded by trees that
smell of sun-heated vanilla
and birds that chirp and chat-
ter4achingly aware that all
this is a powerful gift, one
that can be taken away at any
moment.
*If you happen to be a
composer/arranger who
wants to work for free on a
mother-son musical about
a fictitious small town in
Oregon4by all means, get
in touch! Also, anyone who
wants to share how they9re
dealing with the virus, or
with their technology and
devices, is welcome to con-
tact me, too. Yes, via email:
tiffany@plazm.com.
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