The History of Where I Live

I live in a small Georgia town called Powder Springs, which is 20 miles dead west of downtown Atlanta.

Prior to the 1830s the land was a buffer zone between the Cherokee and Creek Indians. The Gold Lottery took place, which allowed people to grab land, and they started moving into the area. In only a few years a community started to form, which was later chartered as "Powder Springs."

In the years prior to the Civil War the springs in my town became famous for their so-called healing properties. Soon, the little hamlet became a resort town with five hotels.

During the war Federal troops occupied the city. I've heard mixed stories on what they destroyed, but based on three sources I've found they did not burn the local churches to the ground. They simply dismantled the Baptist and Methodist churches and used the lumber. They used the Presbyterian church for both a hospital, and later for a horse stable. I can say that around here there is no such thing as a "Yankee." They are all "Damn Yankees."

I Cometh

In the 1970s my aunt and uncle settled here. My uncle was a heavy equipment broker and, at one time, was the richest man in town. They had a beautiful home that was a mansion to me. There was a separate room just for barbecuing. The great room was massive, with a high ceiling and a wall of windows that overlooked a creek and woods. Even the laundry room was amazing, which also contained a sewing area and shower. Downstairs, in the basement, there was a game room and a long hall with a row of bedrooms.

I was still living in central Florida at the time and I spent the summers of 1975 and 76 at their home, when I was 15 and 16. It was a lot of fun hanging out with my cousins and we created life-long bonds.

Some of my fondest memories were exploring the vast acreage around their home. Now, a 5-lane highway has been cut through the area and the land has been checkerboarded with subdivisions, but in the mid 1970s the area was nothingness. One summer my cousins and I went deep into the forest and fields and had a blast exploring. We also rode dirt bikes. Little did I know that I was riding the bike in an area that I would one day have my house.

On one of our exploration hikes I remember looking across a vast field and seeing a train on a trestle bridge way in the distance. There was just so much vast, undeveloped land, and it wonderful.

A creek ran through the back of my aunt and uncle's property, and one day my cousins and I walked in the center of it for a couple of miles. Again, all we saw was wilderness.

Back Again

Much to my delight, the next year my dad went to work as a private pilot, and we moved from Fruitland Park, FL to Powder Springs, GA. We moved over the summer and I started my senior year in a new high school. Fortunately, because I already knew my cousins and their friends the transition wasn't too bad. Plus, the Georgians were friendly folks and I had made a new best friend on the first day of school. One of the first things my new friend Daryll said, was, "Did you guys raise hell in Florida?" Well, of course we did, but Daryll was going to teach me how to "raise hell" Georgia style. This mainly involved lots of drinking, smashing mailboxes, doing doughnuts in your car, and getting in fights with rival high school gangs. I stayed out of most of the mischief, but Daryll thrived on it.

Married and Back A Second Time

I got married in 1983 and settled in the nearby town of Smyrna, where I lived for six years. When it came time to buy a house I ended up getting a home in 1988 in the same area that I explored 12 years earlier. My house has a nice 3/4 acre lot that includes a second lot behind my backyard. When I first moved in I could still see furrows in the lower lot, from some long-past farm. Another interesting thing is that I once dug up part of a cast iron school desk in my backyard. One day I need to get a metal detector and scan my property — I think I am living on some history.

Conclusion

So, I've lived in the same house for 26 years now. My oldest daughter was two when we moved here and my second daughter was born two years later. In 2008 developers came through the area and cleared land and were in the process of building all sorts of projects around my neighborhood. Then, the economy crashed and all got quiet. Since the crash, the empty lots are now filled with 6-year-old pine trees. Around the corner from my house there were plans to build a shopping center or something, and homes were actually hauled away, so my area is actually less dense and more wooded than before. It's actually a beautiful area. North Georgia receives a lot of rainfall, and I love rain. I also love trees, and it feels like our small subdivision was carved out of the forest canopy. There are plenty of remnant pieces of land that couldn't be developed, and these area provide plenty of forest cover. I like it here and I like Georgia. I have no interest in leaving this place.

A Special Little Bird

Yesterday was a dark, cold, wintery day. I bundled up and spent the afternoon working in my yard. As I was working I noticed a little bird following me. It was roundy with little black claws that seemed too small for its body.

As I went from one place to another, it would follow me. It would jump from fencepost to branch as I moved about. The bird was not fearful, but it was sometimes cautious. It would sometimes jump back to another branch or fencepost, but it wouldn't panic. Several times it was within arms length of me, and I was grateful for the trust he gave me.

At one point the bird went down to the ground and I thought he might be injured, but he quickly returned to a fencepost and started munching on a blackberry that he picked up in its beak. He was just munching away while still observing me.

I sent pictures of the bird to a friend, who identified it as an Eastern Phoebe. Sure enough, a visit to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology confirmed the bird's identity.

I felt like I made a connection with this little creature, and I was thankful to have the company as I worked outside. Sadly, many people would not even notice such a minor contact with nature, or even care. But I care because it reminds me that we live in a vast and complicated ecosystem. And just because humans are supposedly smart and have a consciousness that doesn't make us better than other animals. We are all one and we are all connected. Some religionists have a problem with that because of the "have dominion" clause in the Holy Bible. Well, to that I say "poop."

Kind Words

I had a few kind words and kind gestures given to me today, and it really lifted me up. Speaking of this topic, I want to share my philosophy:

Okay, every day you wake up, and you're consuming a lot of resources. As an American, you are using 200 times more resources than the average Ethiopian. I feel that every day we all need to justify our existence.

One thing you can do is make it a point to make life a little less miserable for someone every day. This can be done with a kind deed or some nice words.

We all come across service people every day — in restaurants, stores, and other businesses. Always give them a smile. Try to say something positive and kind. Always try to lift others up. If there is a problem with your service, freak people out by not being a jerk. Rather, be patient and tolerant. Service people are usually low paid and they typically don't want to be behind that counter. Many of them lead hard lives and they are just trying to survive. If you have a sense of humor, make them laugh.

Over the course of a day, it just take a few positive people like yourself to put someone in a better mood. When that person goes home from their crappy job, that positive mood may transfer to others in their household. Holy crap, you just made the world a slightly better place.

Don't whine, demand, and scream because there is a pea in your mashed potatoes. Life is short, and in the grand scheme of things it's not important.

EXPECT the world to be an imperfect place, and you'll be a lot less stressed and feel better. Technology will fail, just as it has since the beginning of technology. People will make mistakes. Things will go wrong, and then snowball. Learn to accept that. If you have a service problem, explain your problem, and ALWAYS be polite and respectful. Trust me, assholes are a penny a dozen. Be the exception.

Just for fun, I always like to have a behavior that's totally unexpected. One time I was at an event and I learned that even though I had a room reservation, no rooms were available. The hotel had rebooked me at another hotel, far away by the airport. I simply said, "That will work out perfectly - I have a colleague who's staying in that area." The hotel clerk was surprised. He said, "Wow, you're the only person who didn't yell at me about this today." That made me feel really good.

In conclusion, I want to give a shout out to the positive, happy people in my life who continually lift me up and make me feel good. I am blessed to have each of you in my life, and I love you all. See, I said something nice.

Behavior, Excuses, and Hope

Photo by Miriam Espacio on Unsplash

I'm an alien space probe thrown into a human body. I'm going on the ride just looking around, observing, and learning all I can. I'm not sure what I'll do with all this acquired knowledge because I'm now in my "twilight years," as they say. In 20-30 years tops, the oxygen will get cut from my brain and all this "stuff" swirling in my head will simply cease to exist. It will be like pulling the plug on a computer. But, what the heck, for right now I'm a curious little beaver, walking around, and soaking up every morsel of knowledge that I can get.

Behavior
As I sail on the ship of life, one thing that continually trips me out is how people find a way to justify ANY behavior. People mainly do this to make themselves look good, feel good, or protect someone they like. Sometimes their rationalizations border on the absurd, but the story sounds good to them, so they stick with it. Some of my favorites: "I smoke to keep my weight down." Or, "We want to settle the New World to save the Indians." Or, "The Bible says slavery is okay." The list of absurdities goes on and on. I'm not sure how to solve this problem of self-deception, but I believe it plays a key part in our dysfunctional society.

Excuses
It amazes me how people use excuses to justify DOING NOTHING to help our deteriorating planet and society. When I did my first Sierra Club tabling event in 1998, I remember a guy saying to me, "There's nothing that can be done about it." Then, there is a large group of people who say, "We're going to be whisked up to Heaven anyway, so why me worry?"

As for me, I occasionally fall into the pits of the cynics and jaded people. These are the folks who say, "HELL, I tried to do something and they fought me every inch of the way. I'll just do NOTHING and let them learn for themselves." Well, I TRY not to feel this way, but this feeling tries to creep into my soul every day. I think about all the times I went to Washington, DC to lobby. I think about all my phone calls to legislators. I think about all the tabling events I worked at, all the PowerPoint presentations I made, all the traveling I did. And what did I accomplish? I feel that NOTHING has been accomplished. Except, maybe I've kept things from getting worse. There is a mild environmental movement that has reemerged in this country. Gay rights has made major progress, so at least we are advancing socially. But in the environmental arena, things are going slowly.

Hardly anything has been done to slow carbon emissions and to wean the nation off oil. Oh, maybe some baby steps, but it's a drop in the bucket. It's hard to stay focused. I often think that market forces and social evolution will simply determine our future. Changing public policy is nearly impossible. Our Congress members simply respond to the squeakiest wheels, and the environmentalists have neither the dollars nor numbers to compete with the passionate Christian fundamentalists and their corporate allies. Or Big Oil, Big Coal, and so on. I can't afford to buy a Congressperson, and I can't make enough noise to scare one, so I'm screwed.

Hope
But, regardless of all the above, I know I can't just have the "we're screwed anyway" mentality. I have put children in the world and have an obligation to them. I love nature, and have an obligation to the natural world. I love my planet, and want to protect it. But the short-term market forces are so massively powerful that I'm not sure we can protect the long-term. I feel overwhelmed, and I stay in a constant state of melancholy over it. Part of me just wants to get the hell out of here because I can't stand looking at the daily destruction. It hurts. And then I live with the constant guilt of being a part of the industrialized system. Even with the many green things I do in my personal life, I am still a locust, doing my share of devouring our resources. I still have to fly in gas-guzzling airplanes and drive global-warmer vehicles. I stand before Mother Earth and cry that I am GUILTY.

Okay, I will try to get back up and bury my cynicism and jadedness for another day, but I feel strapped down. Just trying to survive, trying to hold a job, trying to be a support for my children, and then finding time to save the world? Yeah, I know, I just have to be more disciplined.

Ultimately, I do have hope. People who talk of doomsday scenarios are just shirking their responsibilities. After all, it's easier to do nothing than something. It's easier to justify a bad behavior rather than change it. Humans take the path of least resistance — we evolved with the concept of conserving energy. And now we have gotten lazy. And, heck, God's going to burn the whole place up anyway, so, let's just watch reality TV and have a brewskie. Let's just party like rock stars, and maybe we can get Nero to play the fiddle.

Devil Music

During my teens and 20s I attended several fundamentalist and independent Baptist churches. I was always intrigued by the term "Devil Music." After all, who really knows what kind of music Satan enjoys. I would guess a little Frank Sinatra.

I never got a clear grip on why Devil Music was bad. I was once told that the beat of the music brought out "primordial urges." Okay, I was only 15, but I knew what that meant — rock music supposedly turned you into an animalistic, horny person. Then there was the claim of the "hypnotic effect" of the beat.

I did not buy into this, nor did any of my friends. My favorite artist at the time was Elton John, followed by Queen. Then there were the Eagles and The Who. Everyone I knew listened to rock or country music. It was a mild form of rebellion.

The Dictator Visit
The brief time my parents had me in a Baptist fundamentalist church was a total joke, with rampant hypocrisy everywhere. But I'll get to that another time. A most memorable moment was when the pastor, who ruled his church as a dictator, came for a visit. First off, he opened our refrigerator, which really annoyed me. Yes, indeed, he was searching for the Devil's Nectar (also known as BEER). I was in my bedroom playing games with some siblings and friends. I put an album from the rock opera Tommy on my record player. I cranked up the song, "Tommy Can You Hear Me" and soon I heard the pastor coming down the hall. He said he was just coming in the bedroom to say "hi." I smiled and said "hi" back. We made small talk, and then he left. All the while, my album was playing on.

The Anti-Rock Seminar
Fast forward a decade and I'm attending another fundamentalist church with my new wife. One week there was a two-night program to expose the evils of rock music. The evangelist spent much time explaining the Satanic connections to song lyrics and talking about quotations and lifestyles of various rock artists. The speaker seemed to have a particular dislike for Ozzy. After spending a couple of nights listening to all this stuff it was time to "get saved" at the end. I was surprised when the associate pastor and some other church leaders came forward, and they said before they thought they were saved but they had not been "really saved." So, I'm not sure how to know when you're "saved" or "really saved" but it probably doesn't hurt to renew your membership, so to speak, every few years. This is known as "rededicating your life."

The Pastor at the Pulpit
At this same church, the pastor was firmly against any music that wasn't gospel. In addition to rock, he was against country, which was "worldy." And he said that easy listening was simply slower versions of rock songs, so that had to go too. He also spoke against homosexuals, pornography, and all the other evils in the world. I realized that there was a lot of bad stuff in the world — it was hard to keep up with it all.

Conclusion
At the last two churches I attended, the once-evil rock songs and rhythms are actually played during the service. They call this "contemporary style" and it's a marketing tool to attract the 30-somethings and younger crowds. The older folks still like "traditional style" where they sing out of the old, ripped hymn book and there's always someone in the choir singing several octaves off key.

The point being is that what is considered "evil" by one generation suddenly becomes acceptable a decade or two later. This same trend can now be seen with the increased acceptance of gay rights. In the past year there's been a steady stream of state bills supporting gay marriage. In fact, more and more churches are now performing gay weddings. I think this is all wonderful.

But as for the Devil Music, I still laugh every time I hear the song "Hotel California" because that was supposed to be a satanic song, and it really freaked out the fundamentalists.