My Sustainable Side

I like things that last. Things that are sustainable. These days, sustainability is a buzzword, and though I'm not a big fan of buzzwords, I consider this a good one. If as a civilization we built more things to last, by definition, we would reduce waste and diminish our consumption of short-lived, wasteful, energy consuming products.

These thoughts are not inspired by the Egyptians but being there increased my appreciation for buildings that stand the test of time. Their pyramids and temples are powerful examples of building for the long term.

Buildings in recent times are constructed with little thought given to longevity. Most builders and developers think in terms of getting profits and getting them quickly. That's hard to do when you spend more than the least amount necessary to build something. The problem with such thinking? As the old adage states, it's penny wise and pound foolish.

Why do I care and how have I learned about such stuff? Recently I've been involved in a creative new housing project designed for students at the University of Oregon in Eugene. Before embarking on my project, I did my research attempting to defy gravity in my effort to climb the learning curve. With the help of many people, I obtained a speedy, high quality education. And as a result, I am a big believer in sustainable building practices.

I try to be the same way with my music---I try to write songs that stick with you, songs that have something to say and I try to avoid writing trite little tunes that ride modern pop trends in pursuit of mass audience appeal. Not that I would mind having mass audience appeal. Not one bit. But that's really tough and success is such an unpredictable thing and what is success anyway?

With a building project, you succeed if you finish it and it pleases you. Well, it pleases me to build something that creates an appealing living environment, something that is visually striking and something which will endure, buildings which evoke a positive emotional response.

Consider windows for a moment. Did you know that vinyl windows, although inexpensive and functional, have a useful life of about 20 years, that they have a tendency to leak in rainy environments and that they don't have a particularly high energy value? Spend 30% more for your windows and you can get a fiberglass window frame with a 250 year useful life, less leakage and higher energy values, plus they are more attractive windows. Why not spend the extra money? Without a doubt, everybody wins when society spends the extra money to build using sustainable building practices.

As it turns out, many building materials available these days at a slightly higher cost than the cheap crap most folks use have the combined virtues of a much longer life, better energy performance and improved appearance. What's not to like? True, buying the cheap crap saves money in the short run. Why not think long term?

As we gain more knowledge about sustainable building practices, we will embrace them as a society. Here in my home town, I'm proud to say that this is a big thing. And yet, most builders still prefer CP (cheap crap) building methods. Makes no sense. Spread the word---sustainability. Guitar players covet the quality of sustain in their instruments. Nobody uses sustain musically better than Carlos Santana. Let us spread sustain like a religion throughout our culture. Let us nurture our society by embracing things that last.

Reflections on the Middle East

Whew, finally catching my breathe after returning from my 3 week tour of the Middle East. It will take time to put it all in perspective but a few things stand out.

If you don't like to see weapons, don't go to the Middle East. Armed security is present everywhere. After a while, uniformed men toting machine guns seem like wallpaper---they just blend in with the surroundings. But the initial sight of so much security required some adjustment. Remember after 9/11 when, for a while, our airports were staffed with soldiers holding rifles? For Americans, this was a sobering and shocking reminder that we had been attacked, but the soldiers disappeared soon enough. In the Middle East, they never disappear. And as one travels from city to city by road, armed security checkpoints are frequent. Buses travel in convoys. Soldiers guard even the most obscure historic sites, mostly looking bored and weary. We saw one soldier in Cairo going home from work dragging his rifle on the sidewalk like an unneeded cane.

The Middle East is hopelessly confused about it's place in the modern world. What to wear, for example. Let's see, shall I put on the bhurka today to respect my religious beliefs and if I'm a woman, is it enough to just cover my head or should I cover my entire face leaving only the tiniest slit for my eyes? Or shall I dress modern-style? Sometimes they find ways to accessorize, combining old with new, the craziest example of which was a twenty-ish lady with skin-tight blue jeans, a red playboy bunny shirt and a traditional head scarf.

When it comes to cell phones, they make American usage patterns seem modest. After a while, cell phone use while riding camels, horses and donkeys seemed normal, and there's certainly no better way to while away the hours herding goats than by texting or talking on the phone.

I expected to encounter the anti-western negativity for which the Middle East is notorious. I didn't. This is not to say that they embrace all things American, but they admire American spirit, style, openness to change and, of course, wealth. Unlike the Saudis and those in Dubai, to name a few, Egypt and Jordan are very poor countries.

They love American music, though quite unfortunately, their primary exposure seems to come in the form of sappy pop a la Celine Dion. How sad for them. I'm delighted to say that my Americana material was received quite enthusiastically, and contrary to my expectations, my anti-W tune "Crawford" seemed quite unnecessary and wasn't well understood. They love guitar. Many had never seen an American-style acoustic guitar up close.

More than anything, I wanted to gain an understanding of the fault lines in the Mideast, especially in Israel. The more I learned, the less I knew. Warfare, conquest and tribal disunity has been a tenet of their society since the dawn of recorded history. The average person from the Middle East has no more interest in killing than you or me, but for a few of them, killing defines their lives and seems the purest expression of their twisted beliefs. Is this something anyone can change? How I wish I could find reason for optimism here, but I can't.

But people are people, the human connections I made were full of vitality and meaning and I return from the Middle East seeing the world through new eyes. And with immense gratitude for the blessings and privileges and beauty we often take for granted in the USA. Sometimes it's nice to be reminded of that.

Bloodshed In Jerusalem

Just one week after leaving Jerusalem, I received the shocking news that eight students were killed not far from our hotel. Violent attacks in Jerusalem had become relatively infrequent but with mounting tensions in Gaza, some form of reprisal by the most violent Palestinian faction was inevitable.

I'm in Cairo, Egypt at the moment, about to board a plane for home. Internet access was spotty throughout my time in the Middle East which is why I didn't post more frequently. I have many stories to tell, mostly gratifying tales of a world which I will now see through slightly different eyes, a world in which differences begin to diminish as common ground grows. A world based on the power of simple human connections.

How naive such talk sounds in the wake of eight dead in Jerusalem. Yet I think back to discussions I had with real Palestinians, people who inspired my optimism about the possibilities for a brighter tomorrow, and can't help but think that our biggest obstacle is an inability to identify the terrorists among us, all over the world.

Time to board our plane. I wish you all peace.

From Jerusalem to Jordan

In a place defined by its differences and profound disunity, I am struck by the unifying power of one thing: music. Climbing up a steep, rocky canyon in Petra, Jordan we arrived at an ancient stone monastary. I brought my guitar. A Bedouin man, a sheepherder about 20 years old, was playing a lute. He and his friends noticed my guitar and asked me to play. Within moments, our worlds merged.

Soon, they were asking if I knew any Bob Marley. I offered them "Stir It Up" which was close enough. One of them was wearing a t-shirt showing the cover of The Beatles "Let It Be" album, so I played "Let It Be". They hadn't heard it, but they liked it all the same. In fact, they didn't seem to know any Beatles songs and I'm not sure they knew anything about The Beatles despite the t-shirt's evidence to the contrary.

These Bedouins operate a small cafe and souvenir business in this remote location. Profits are surely hard to come by. Still, they offered Turkish coffee on the house. We enjoyed the coffee, some good laughs and left as friends.

In Jerusalem and throughout Israel, our experiences with Jews and Palestianians alike were profoundly similar. Put people face to face with one another, play some music and friendships are born. Such a simple formula. Spread the word. Spread the music. Peace may yet come.