Seeing is Believing

9.11.06

I’ve been thinking a great deal about the reality of things lately.

Many of the things we see with our own eyes are, in fact, not very real at all.

I worked in television for over 7 years, the number of shows currently running that are considered “reality TV” is astounding to me. Can it be “reality” when a camera is there? How about after a Producer decides to cut it up in the editing room so this woman is the bitch, that guy the jilted lover, and the last is the everyday underdog queen all of us long to be?

You may think you know Martha Stewart’s magazine, but you may not. It’s a patchwork of DreamWorld ideas. Women read about stirring up a pot of minestrone at the dinner table while sitting in front of their Lean Cuisines or Triscuit crackers with “alive with Cracked Pepper and Olive Oil”. How do I know that? Because I’ve seen the ads. You have, too: Newman’s Own dressings, Smart Ones dinners, Claussen Pickles, 100 Calorie Packs of Ritz Chips minis, Carnation Instant Breakfast packets...

I understand, and Martha does too. We long to be that invented person who whips up crème fraiche for a party of 16 in their 2nd home on the Vineyard.

Don’t feel bad, even Martha isn’t that person. Did you think a woman who owned a media empire would be? I’ve heard people who’ve worked with her call her house on Turkey Hill “Turkey Hell”.

So, we’ve been had. Now what?

Thanks, Tim. Thanks a hell of a lot. Fact is, I was having fun pretending to be Martha while eating my damn Lean Cuisine and I don’t need you here busting my chops.

Point taken.

Believe me, I like it no better than you. I don’t read Martha, but I sure as hell drool over seed catalogs, bike catalogs, the LA Times food section. I, too, live in LaLa Land where everything is okay because I can daydream away about taking company for a little stroll past my 10-foot tomato plants producing until well after Thanksgiving. And if that’s not daydreaming, I don’t know what the hell is.

I’d explained before (I hope) that the world is not our WYSIWYG, a Web term for What You See Is What You Get. There’s always something lying beneath. When people see my yard they may think it’s beautiful, they may think it’s a damn eyesore. (Buddhists would point out these people were only seeing their own perceptions. Happily there’s nary a Buddhist in sight.) What they probably won’t see, unless they have a trained eye or I’ve spoken with them, is that Nature has come back to my yard and I am trying to work with her, not flog her into shape with a bullwhip. My yard is full of earthworms, pill bugs, monarchs, Western Swallowtails, spiders (you have to hold your hand in front of you all summer long when walking out in the morning), hummingbirds, crickets, skunks (you can smell them), opossums, ants, flies, and a million other microscopic things that I can’t see.

Does that mean that my yard is so much better than my friend in Pasadena who has your everyday average garden and is constantly struggling with her lawn? Sadly, no. She has Praying Mantis and I’d be damned if I’ve ever seen one in the 13 years I’ve worked in this garden.

The point is, there is a reality underneath, but we may not be able to see it yet.

What the hell does that mean?

You know, I really wish I had an answer for that. But I don’t.

Maybe the message is don’t believe media conglomerates who tell you the world is one way because they are trying desperately to sell you something, or entertain the bejeezus out of you, then sell something to you while you are not paying attention.

That sounds right, doesn’t it?

I was just listening to a radio program on Local Food, which has suddenly become all the rage for some strange reason (I bet that woman who wrote about it 2 years ago is pissed off she missed the whole boat). It considers such things as a fresh strawberry in Connecticut in the middle of winter.

And they ponder, Could there be anything more absurd?

It’s “cheap” relatively to grow it in Chile, ship it in a refrigerated truck and airplane, then put it in a heated store in a little refrigerated section that advertises Fresh Strawberries on December 23rd. It takes a lot of fossil fuel and creates a lot of pollution for that little strawberry, doesn’t it? But that’s the trick! You can’t see the fossil fuel being wasted nor the pollution, all you see is that dead on ripe, luscious red strawberry, out of some sort of obscene mid-winter dream you had. And, hell, at $7 for the pint, that’s nothing!

Well, it is something, but you just have been misdirected, as the Magician’s Union might tell you.

Ignore the man behind the curtain!

(Poor little Oz, I always did feel a little sorry for him, though really, he didn’t deserve my sympathy, he made Dorothy go through hell.)

Everything we buy has some sort of impact on the rest of the world. It’s something our ancestors knew a little about that we’ve kind of forgotten. Well, the ones who didn’t build an unsustainable society in the middle of the desert then become really surprised when they found out they were due for a 100 year drought.

Okay, I’m not doing anything to alleviate your depression, am I?

Yeah, I guess I’m not.

Well, here’s a good fact, you’re probably never going to accomplish the Off the Grid, Make Your Own Clothing Out of Goat Hair dream you’ve had going on in the back of your mind. (I hope that was your dream, anyway.) If you start small enough, you can do a few things to lessen your impact. You’re still going to rationalize, we all are. That’s what we do. Hell, we live in this ultra-rich society and we’re surrounded by messaging that tells us we need a 54-inch plasma TV and we think, Hell, why not? Indeed why not. That sounds pretty damn nice, doesn’t it? Think of the Movie Nights on the big screen. Hell, as nice as it is in DreamWorld, the damn thing is still made in China and getting cheaper by the moment at the Store of the Apocalypse, Wall*Mart.

Maybe what I’m telling you is to go and pull some weeds (if it’s daylight out). Do something you’re somewhat proud of, like bringing your own bags to grocery store or not spraying all the ladybugs to get at all the aphids, then get down on your knees and weed. Because, truly, weeding is where It’s At. I do not know why. But once you’re there only 5 minutes, the man made world seems to melt away. All those ads for Hummers and the 15th installment of Pirates of the Caribbean, become refuse for that old Calgon commercial, Calgon, Take Me Away!

Weeding.

That’s what this is all about.

I’ll start tomorrow.