Ten Trillion Dollars

I posted a couple of posts ago about my friend Jason who passed away last month. I had written a bit about my feelings and a little about how I was dealing. But I don't think I mentioned that I had purchase something to remember him by. A bit of a tribute if you could call it that.

One of Jason's prized possessions in the last couple months of his life was a 10 trillion dollar bill from Zimbabwe. He had bought it on Amazon and paid next to nothing for it. The bill itself is probably worth less than $.50 which is just horribly sad when I think about it. But Jason was thrilled when he got it and rushed up to my office to show me the ludicrously large bill. He opened his wallet with a huge grin and said "I'm a trillionaire!".

After that he'd bring out his bill and show people around the office. He was so excited just to have something that odd. He bought a frame and framed the bill for his office. After his death, the bill was the thing I latched onto. It was an incredible reminder of his passion for unusual things. So last week I finally hopped on ebay and bought one for myself. I paid a ridiculously low amount for mine and today it finally arrived. I'm taking it into the office tomorrow and I'll buy a frame and put it up. It may not be worth much in the real world, but for me, this bill is priceless.

Not Quite Poetry Friday (or Cat up on her soapbox again)

I've been thinking a lot about the oil spill in the Gulf. The first fine layer of oil started washing up on the Louisiana shore this morning and they say that the slick is much thicker just a little bit off-shore. I think a lot about what kind of world we are leaving, not just for our children, but for all the species that live on this beautiful planet.

I'm a big believer that everything we do has an impact, positive or negative. And that this relentless push called progress is really just a slow form of destruction that no one seems to recognize. Every building we build, just pushes the boundaries of our cities out further and further, plowing over farmland. We pave over green things and call it progress. We build endless strip malls because we have created a society that can only move forward by producing and selling more. More, more, endlessly more.

And what we seem to forget in this endless push is that we are only one of the species of creatures that live here. We pave over their world to create ours. Animals are only looking to get by. To eat and survive. We buy endless toys and find new destructive ways to entertain ourselves. Animals work to eat, we work to buy.

I don't mean to be so pessimistic. I'm actually in a good mood today. But as I watch this oil slick destroy another section of our oceans and I watch the trees in my city plowed over for yet another Target; I start to wonder where it ends. People remind me that we can't go backwards. But the forward looks even scarier. And the whole time I think of an old Cree proverb that I have tacked up at home.

"Only when the last tree has died
And the last river has been poisoned
And the last fish has been caught
Will we realize that we can't eat money."

I, by no means, feel that I'm doing better. I work in a job that brings those companies in to plow over more farmland and drive more creatures out of their homes. I buy gas to drive myself to work creating the need for oil rigs that explode and destroy ecosystems. I don't grow my own food. I'm just as much to blame as the companies doing all the damage. But I do believe that I can start to change that. I can get that dusty old bike down and start using it to get around. I can start growing my own food in containers at the townhouse. I can buy less, particularly all the stuff that I simply don't need. And when a job comes up that offers me pride instead of just money, I can jump on it. I figure I'll do what I can to help. And perhaps the corporations will get the hint.

A Penny Saved...

I have to brag a bit. Like the time my nephew sat down at the dinner table and asked me what I'd been reading lately, my young nephews have again surprised me.

We went out to dinner last night with my brother and his family. Jeff and I arrived at the restaurant first. When my brother's family got there, the middle child Keith immediately claimed the seat next to me. He looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. The conversation went a bit like this.

"Hey Keith, how are you?" (Keith is 10 by the way)

"I'm great. I bought a new toy today."

"Ah, nice. What did you buy?

"It's an iPod Touch." He said as he pulled the treasured item out of his pocket. He was grinning and clearly excited. "It has all sorts of games and apps and can connect to the internet."

"That's awesome Keith. Wow nice toy." I looked over at my brother and sister-in-law. I said jokingly. "I want an iPod Touch too."

My brother said. "Don't look at me. He bought it."

"Wow, what's his allowance? I want to be your child too."

"He's been saving for two years now."

I'm sure my mouth had dropped open at this point. I can't come anywhere near affording an iPod Touch at this point in my life. But I guess Keith had decided he wanted one. He had been saving his money for the last two years to get one. Birthday money, gift money, allowance. All of it he had saved for years in order to buy his new toy. I complimented him again on his new purchase but this time it was with a bit of awe. And he was clearly proud, not just of the toy, but of his accomplishment.

I remember when I was a kid and trying to save up enough money for something I wanted. It seemed to take forever and I think the longest I ever had to go was only two months. Two years is an awfully long time for a kid. I'm impressed with his determination and fiscal responsibility. I've heard that the younger generation has no idea about delayed gratification. This is a shining example for me about how that isn't the case.