Green Canary

“If you never forage for yourself / You’ll always eat porridge after others.” – Arthur Tugman

Living in Baltimore City creates a sort of dichotomy of thought in one’s brain. On the one lobe, you consider the city to be an unblemished canvas, full of possibility and hope. But on the other lobe, you consider the city to be a festering cesspool of abandonment, neglect, and vandalism fraught with impossibility.

I both love and hate Baltimore, with its discouraging blocks of empty rowhomes and encouraging people who want to make a difference. This city has the heart and desire to influence change like its neighbor Washington, D.C., but unlike D.C. it doesn’t have the money or the organization to do it. That fact breeds grassroots campaigns and citizens who act independently to make their city a better place. That fact also fosters an ongoing attitude of apathy.

The population wants to change things. The population thinks it can never be changed.

I vacillate between hope and hopelessness, at one moment seeing my Baltimore with the enthusiastic eyes of a do-gooder, and at other moments seeing the sheer overwhelming size of the problem at large. I both want to do something and fear that nothing can be done.

Acting on the former, I contacted a woman who wrote articles on urban foraging for the Baltimore Brew. I asked her if she wanted to work with me on a project I was doing for a contest through Urbanite magazine. She said yes. And then she reached out to a few people and invited them to join us. And they said yes. And then we had a team of uber cool people who all love Baltimore and want to see it flourish.

The way this team came together and the enthusiasm of its members are why I love Baltimore.

Urbanite magazine began their contest last year. The contest poses a question about the city and a situation affecting it, and then accepts presentations from anyone and everyone on ways to address said situation. In 2011, it was an Open City Challenge that asked people how to turn the construction process of the controversial Red Line into something positive for Baltimore. This year it is a Healthy Food Challenge, in which participants must present a way to provide healthy food to everyone in Baltimore. The contest calls for “creative, innovative, non-traditional ideas that address one or more of the barriers to affordable, healthy food for Baltimore City residents living in neighborhood food deserts.”

Food deserts are defined as neighborhoods: more than ¼ mile away from nearest supermarket; with a median income at or below 185% of the federal poverty level; with more than 40% of the households without access to a vehicle; and the food that is available at nearby stores is not considered healthy.

20% of Baltimore City is a food desert.

1 in 4 Baltimore school-age children reside in a food desert.

1 in 4 African-Americans living in Baltimore reside in a food desert.

I and my team - comprised of Mr. Mystery,  a Johns Hopkins professor and well-known writer on urban foraging, a Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) professor whose work focuses on the ”history and metaphor of the human relationship to natural resources,” and the editor of a local publication - think we have a solution.

We are presenting an urban foraging program that will:

1. Increase the greenery of Baltimore;
2. Utilize neglected areas;
3. Empower organized groups – such as churches, soup kitchens, etc. – to create and maintain green spaces;
4. Empower individuals to take responsibility for public spaces; and
5. Enhance existing Parks & Recreation efforts with edibles.

Our plan is to make Baltimore a city that feeds its residents by placing edibles in publicly accessible spaces and allowing people to forage. Fruits, berries, nuts, and greens will become a natural part of the city’s landscape. By turning our food desert of a city in a veritable oasis of food, we will ensure that Baltimoreans won’t have to “eat porridge after anyone else” anymore.

I will be working on the presentation of our proposal this weekend. It is due on May 31.

“As the evening sky faded from a salmon color to a sort of flint gray, I thought back to the salmon I caught that morning, and how gray he was, and how I named him Flint.” – Jack Handy

All the world is atwitter with talk of the book 50 Shades of Gray by E. L. James. Perpetually late, I only just arrived at the party, so most of the twittering is still new to me. The book itself was new to me, too, until last night when I downloaded an illegal copy off of the Internet and skimmed through it for the juicy bits.*

The first time I heard of the book, the words “mommy porn” were used to describe it. Not being a mommy myself, I was confused by the term. Mommies have their own brand of porn? How intriguing. Desiring to understand, I hunkered myself down and thought long and hard about what mommies would consider a turn-on, what kind of kink would embody their special mommy porn. If my time was spent juggling a job, children, a husband, and a house, I know what would get my juices flowin’: a baby that sleeps, a husband that cleans, and a closet full of clothes that never need to be ironed.**

With that definition in my head, I dismissed Shades as another Oprah Book Club snoozer and went off to watch my own porn: The Avengers movie. Hel-lo Loki, you delicious God of Mischief, my name art Canary. May I wear your horn-y hat?

The next time the book came up in conversation, that conversation was with my sister-in-law (SIL), who described the book as “Twilight for adults.” Not very inspiring, that description. My SIL was reading the book, for her book club, which makes me wonder what kind of book club she’s in. Blushing furiously, she described the plot: it is the story of Anastasia Steele, a young, naive girl, and Christian Gray, the worldly man that ties her up, ties her down, and tells her what to do inside the bedroom and out.

“Hmm,” I thought. “That book has potential.”

And so thinking, I got myself a copy and started reading. Now having read a few chapters (from the middle where, you know, the smut is), I’m confused as to what all of the hullabaloo is, and am seriously questioning mommies and their taste in porn.

I will admit that the bedroom antics of Christian Gray are somewhat tantalizing, but the book is so poorly written that it’s hard to focus on that. Twilight, indeed. Who can “get into” a scene that is meant to be hot when the protagonist is mentally stopping every two minutes to inwardly whine, “Oh, why do I find this behavior to be such a turn on?! Oh, I am afraid, but don’t want him to stop! Oh, I wish I understood why I like it when he demeans me so! Oh, what kind of person am I to enjoy this so much?”

Oh, shut up, Anastasia, and just let the man pull your hair. Your interior monologue is killing my buzz.

After my evening skim of Shades, I got to thinking about dominance and submission; I drew some murky conclusions. For starters, some aspects of Christian Gray are appealing, but others not so much. A man who knows what he wants and is willing and able to articulate those wants (or simply takes what he wants while grinning like a naughty schoolboy… I’m just sayin’) is incredibly hot. But a man who gets angry and mopes when an email isn’t returned immediately, or you spend a night out with your friends? Not so hot. For me, there’s a line to be drawn. Bedroom dominance = good. Life dominance = bad.

The other thing I concluded was that there is a very real chance of that kind of kink turning really, really creepy. Shades works in the mainstream because Christian is a wildly successful business man who dresses well, always smells good (so you know he showers and washes his junk <– Very important, boys! Take note!), and likes the finer things in life. You can accept that such a person would have a Red Room of Pain, especially if that room was meticulously maintained and smelled of oiled leather and old wood (the kind from trees). You may even nod at the Red Room and think, “Odd, but okay. If this clean, good-smelling man with the well-manicured house and multiple vehicles wants a special room, then so be it.” But if some jeans-and-wrinkled-t-shirt-clad schlub that you met in a dive bar and who smells of Limburger and unwashed clothes invited you back to his third-story walk-up that he shares with two roommates and a shedding dog and showed you how he turned the linen closet into a teeny, tiny Sex Cave… That shit is creepy.

It’s creepy because you can believe that the Christians of the world had their handcuffs handmade by metal-working artisans in a high-end specialty shop, whereas the bar schlub bought his handcuffs from the joke shop around the corner. The joke shop cuffs were likely made by underpaid children in Vietnam.

See? Creepy.

Also, if you make someone question your cleanliness, anything you want to do while naked becomes icky. There’s nothing worse than being chained to a wall by a man with questionable hygiene.***

I don’t think I will continue reading 50 Shades of Gray - I just can’t get past the poor writing. So until such a time that a better piece of erotica is written, I will have to get my kink from somewhere else. Like The Avengers on DVD. For all of his evil ways, you can tell that Loki showers, and that? That is hot.

*I do the same thing with Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series. And her Meredith Gentry series.
**Now having read some of Shades, I know that mommies, just like the rest of us, enjoy a good spanking and tussle with a riding crop.
***I assume.

“There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth…not going all the way, and not starting.” – Buddha

So here I am again, starting over. Buddha said that there are two mistakes we can make on our way to truth. My mistake is the former: not going all the way. Though to be honest, I’m not that great at starting, either. Jim Rohn, a motivational speaker and author, said that motivation gets us started, and habit keeps us going. I lack motivation, and all of my habits are bad ones, so that explains why I am perpetually starting again.

Mystery solved.

My chronic circling of the landing pad isn’t all that catastrophic to an outsider, but to my brain it’s the End of All Things, sort of like where Bilbo went at the end of the Lord of the Rings movies, only without the companionship of Cate Blanchett and without the dramatically moving song by Annie Lennox. And you know what, people? I’m pretty much tired of it, the circling. In fact, I’m super sick of it, so I’d like that to be over, pleaseandthankyou. And I’d also like to hang with Cate Blanchett and Bilbo. And Annie Lennox. And maybe Ghandi. And also Paul Bettany.

In light of my desire to land this thing once and for all, I’d really like to stand here and declare that I have turned over a new leaf, that I am to be the New and Improved Canary, that never again will I find myself circling the landing pad, that instead I will be shiny and bright and healthy and happy and productive and proud of who I am.

But in addition to desiring change, I also have to be honest, and I know that I’m not going to succeed fully. Past performance, yo. But this time? This time I am not letting that knowledge stop me. I am STARTING. And I hope to goodness that good habits will kick in soon so that I can KEEP GOING.

Today’s objective: Address my distaste for my body, because it’s looking a lot like this, only less cute:

Objective achieved? Yes, hot diggity dog. And P.S. Isn’t The Cat the cutest fat cat you’ve ever seen?! Don’t you want to bury your face in his fluffy gut and woodle? He’s that stinkin’ cute, my chubby kitty boy. Gut woodlingly cute.

So on to the addressment of my body distatement: I signed up for Weight Watchers – AGAIN – choosing to take advantage of their free month offer. By inputting my food choices into their Points Tracker, I learned that I have already – ALREADY – overeaten today. Dammit. But I will overcome! Tomorrow is a new day! Fruits and veggies and water are my friends! I will – I WILL – decrease the size of my ass, sohelpmegod, or else I am going to use it to sit on people and make them cry. You know, just to make myself feel better.

Tomorrow’s objective: Eat breakfast. It’s supposedly the most important meal of the day, y’all, and I have to start small. Small like Bilbo.

“A wise woman puts a grain of sugar into everything she says to a man, and takes a grain of salt with everything he says to her.” – Helen Rowland

I AM: SEEING a cart in the salt mines of Hutchinson, KS

“Our Earth-based observations are still too crude to tell us much about what we’ll see when we finally get there. We still don’t know what we don’t know about Pluto.” – Alan Stern

I AM: SEEING an exhibit at the Kansas Cosmosphere