The Summit

I’m off to Augusta, to the GrowSmart Maine Summit for the day. GrowSmart couldn't have picked a better locale to illustrate unsustainable development and sprawl. The retail jungle across the street from the Civic Center (where the Summit is being held) is a case study in what's wrong with much of what passes for development in our state over the past 30 years.

I’ve looked over the brochure to get a sense of what workshops I want to attend—some of them look pretty interesting and some of them sound downright weird.

This is apparently a well-attended event. My hope is to meet a few people, maybe chat with Eleanor Kinney (the woman from Damariscotta who co-founded Our Town Damariscotta, to keep Wal-Mart out), possibly Stacey Mitchell of Big Box Swindle fame.

For me, personally, I’m hoping to see whether my own vision for the state’s future fits with GrowSmart’s and those of the various presenters.

My biggest complaint about the day is that you have to make tough choices between sessions and there are multiple sessions I wish I could participate in, but will have to miss.

My goal is to have a post up over the weekend on the Summit; mostly my observations and possibly some unique bit of information that you’ll only be able to get here at Words Matter.

Boutique bait-and-switch

The opening of Whole Foods Market in Portland was met with a great deal of hoopla. For “boutique” consumers, the arrival of the world’s largest natural foods chain was a welcome addition to the area’s grocery mix. For others, Whole Foods’ choice of Portland and the opening of a 56,000 square foot operation in the Bayside neighborhood was viewed with trepidation. Those who have followed the Whole Foods story from a distance were not enamored by some of the things they were hearing, particularly their methods of dealing with local producers.

While organic foods may, or may not be beneficial from a health standpoint, the means of production and the expanding criteria of what’s considered organic is viewed with concern. Trucking organic lettuce 3,000 miles from Oregon or California doesn’t seem like a very sustainable agricultural process, particularly when local farmers offer more and more options, even during Maine’s winter.

Based in Austin, Texas, Whole Foods is a huge multi-national corporation. They own close to 200 markets and their total sales topped $5.6 billion in 2006. Over the past four years, they have pursued a very aggressive expansion policy, adding 60 locations over that period. While their choice to locate in Portland was spun as a victory for consumers, they also bought and shut down the Whole Grocer, Portland’s true locally-owned supermarket and a place where local producers were welcomed and lauded.

Stacy Mitchell, Maine’s maven of all things local and sustainable, has written a very solid article in the fall print edition of The Bollard, Portland’s (and arguably Maine’s) last bastion of journalism, detailing the practices of Whole Foods—how they treat local producers (rather shabbily, really, making them jump through multiple corporate hoops and utilizing practices that make it very difficult to compete with WholeFoods’ own private label products). I encourage you to read Mitchell’s article, particularly if you think that Whole Foods is a positive edition to your grocery-shopping experience.

Mitchell has written extensively about the damage that Wal-Mart and other big-box retailers unleash on local economies. Whole Foods, on the other hand, is often viewed favorably by those who might never set foot in a Wal-Mart or Target. She makes a strong case that like big-box retailers, Whole Foods also squeezes independent retailers, small-scale farmers and local producers.

I’m willing to give the Portland store some time to show their hand. Maybe they will change some of their policies and allow more local autonomy on what the Portland location can carry. As Mitchell writes in her article, it’s up to “consumers here (in Portland) to keep Whole Foods on its toes.”

Because Whole Foods is no different than any other corporate entity, they are cognizant of their bottom line. By voting with our pocket books, we can force them to be much more accountable to our local supply chain, which is our only hope for true agricultural and economic sustainability.

American collective thinking

[Jim Kunstler is nothing, if not controversial. Say what you want about his thoughts and opinions, but he consistently argues for his viewpoint, cranking out a column, week after week. His thoughts about liberal Americans and their belief that the only thing wrong with America is George Bush, makes his latest essay essential reading--as if merely anointing a Democrat as king (or queen) is all America needs for what ails her.

Kunstler can be maddening at times, but I give the man credit; anyone who can generate over 300 comments on a blog is worthy of respect. In fact, the comments are often just as strong and well-argued as Kunstler's own thoughts and opinions --JB]

The Grass Roots Syndrome
by Jim Kunstler
(Reprinted from Clusterfuck Nation-Oct. 8th)

Because I wrote a couple of books about the design of cities (and the shortcomings of suburbia), a lot of blather comes my way about what towns around the nation are planning for the future -- and, off course, I hear plenty on the subject in my own town, Saratoga Springs, New York, which is a classic "main street" type town. I also happen to travel a lot and actually see what's going on far from home. Almost everything I see and hear is inconsistent with what I think reality has in store for us.

Most American towns, including my own, are obsessed to the point of mania with the issue of parking and more generally the management of cars, and much of their spending is directed to those ends. Municipal leaders (and the public they serve) have no idea what kind of problems the nation faces with oil. Because life in the USA has worked a particular way all their lives, they assume that it will continue to operate that way. Not only will they be disappointed as happy motoring spirals into history, but they will create a lot mischief in the meantime in planning things based on faulty assumptions.

My own town, for instance, relies heavily on tourism, in particular tourism based on happy motoring. There is not the slightest apprehension among the people here, or our leaders in city hall, that automobile-based tourism may not be happening as soon as five years from now. All our political energy is being expended in fighting about what kind of parking structures we will build (with borrowed money) and where to put them, and how these things might incorporate some secondary uses, such as police offices. We have also been debating plans for the expansion of our modest convention center -- in connection with added parking structures. It seems to me that one of the first things to go as the US economy contracts, along with its energy supply, will be activities like boat shows and optometrist's conventions.

Now this town happens to be on a railroad line that connects New York City to Montreal. Before 1950, it was the main way that people came to this town. These days, we get one train a day in each direction. The trains are invariably late, and not just a little late, but hours late. The track bed is in miserable shape and, of course, Amtrak is a sort of soviet-style management organization. There is no awareness among the public here, or our leaders, that we would benefit from improving the passenger railroad service, and around the state of New York generally there is no conversation about fixing the railroads. (Governor Elliot Spitzer is preoccupied these days with arranging to give driver's licenses to people who are in the country illegally.) We are going to pay a large penalty for these failures of attention.

Another aspect of all this has to do with our assumptions about land development. Here in my town, and elsewhere around the country, the assumption is that suburban development will continue just as it has the past sixty years. This assumption is shared both by the developers themselves and their opponents. The developers expect the current "downturn" to reverse before long. From the opponents' point of view, the assumption is based on their legitimate fears and heartaches about what they've seen heedless development do to the American landscape. Consequently, whatever mental energy is left after the parking debates get tabled is dedicated to fighting over projected suburban expansion.

My personal view about this is apparently radical -- though I am a man of modest habits and philosophy. My view is that the suburban project, per se, in the United States is over, finished. Like, totally. You can stick a fork in it. What you see is basically all that we're going to get. Not only do we not need anymore of it, but we have way too much of what is already on the ground. We don't need anymore suburban housing pods, and the ones already out there are going to hemorrhage value (and usefulness) as far ahead as anybody can imagine. We need more retail like we need 300-million holes in our heads. Ditto suburban office capacity. Ditto new roads and highways.

The projects that people see under construction now are things that went through the torturous permitting process at minimum a year ago and generally even further back. I would imagine that many of the developers of these few remaining projects -- whether they are condo villages or strip malls or chain store "power centers" -- are in deep melancholy as they read the news and desperately search for tenants. Their lenders must be equally depressed -- and in some cases cutting off further injections of capital. What remains is what bankers call "the workout" -- where the financial chips fall when people's hopes and dreams collide with reality's separate agenda.

In connection with the imminent collapse of our investments in suburbia is the fate of all the laws and codes that have governed the creation of it. I think it is a waste of effort at this point to attempt to reform what we generally refer to as "the zoning laws." They will simply become irrelevant. As we get in trouble with oil, and driving becomes more of a problem, it will be self-evident that regulations geared to keeping cars happy can no longer be followed. My guess is that for a period of time we will see a condition of stunned paralysis in the council chambers and planning boards. Eventually, if we are lucky enough to retain effective local governance, a new consensus will emerge that will be more reality-based by necessity.In saying this, I imply that societies go through cycles of collective thinking that range from being fairly consistent with reality to being dangerously out of whack with it. We're at the latter end of the cycle these days. One of the symptoms of this is the fact that so many Americans believe the only thing wrong with America is George W. Bush, and that if only we could wiggle out of "his" war, every day would be Christmas, with Nascar around-the-clock, time-outs for shopping sprees down the aisles of the Target store, 5000-square-foot houses for all (for $750 a month), and three BMWs parked in the driveway. . . with fries, and supersize it!

In reality, there's a lot more wrong with how we live and how we think about how we live than the mere presence of George W. Bush at the head of the federal government. Our expectations are deeply out of phase with what the earth can provide for us and what the future has in store for us, and this failure of our collective imagination goes down to the grass roots.

Making 'kraut

[The "hobler," working up a sweat]

[Watch that blade!]

[Perfectly prepared cabbage]

[Don't spare the salt]

[Kraut-packin' fool]

Yesterday’s return to seasonal temperatures befitting fall were the perfect setting for reconnecting with my German-ness, via the preparation of a traditional, ethnic food.

Sauerkraut, the product of cabbage and fermentation evokes many happy memories. It helps me to think back to that time, each fall, when I got to hang out with my father, uncle and grandfather, as they prepared their supply of sauerkraut for the winter. I first witnessed the making of this German staple around the age of eight, or nine.

Many know sauerkraut merely as an ingredient on their Reuben sandwich, or possibly from purchasing it already prepared at the supermarket, or better, Morse’s, in Waldoboro. Most however, know little about how it is made.

While I had a bird’s eye view of the process as a youngster, once I became a teenager, I had little interest in family ways, or ethnic foods. As a consequence, when I married and became a father and got interested in perpetuating tradition, I realized I didn’t know how to make the dish I loved as a youngster.

Upon returning to Maine from Indiana, I found that my father and uncle’s batch of sauerkraut had a different and less pungent taste than when my grandfather used to make it. I wasn’t sure why.

At a family gathering of the Baumer clan, someone had cooked a batch of sauerkraut. I tasted it and knew the flavor was what I had been searching for. I found out that my cousin had made it and put up a batch every year. We agreed to get together the following fall and he’d guide me in making my own supply.

What I found out is that sauerkraut is easy to make, but you need a couple of key items and a little muscle-power. One such item is a special cutter that my father and cousin called a “hobler,” which I assumed referred to the company that made this device. I actually found this description, via Roots Web and it provides a bit of insight into this shredding device and the sauerkraut-making process.

A Krauthobel is a long board with three or four blades set at an angle in the center. There are grooves on each side which hold a rectangular wooden frame that permits the tool to slide back and forth.

The "Hobel" must be fastened to a stable base that would not buckle under pressure from the work. A clean cloth was spread out on the ground underneath so that the shredded cabbage would fall upon it.

"Hobeln" (planing or grating/mincing the cabbage) was very hard work. The "Hobler" placed pieces of a cut-up head of cabbage in the wooden frame and pushed the "Hoble" back and forth in a smooth, rapid motion with just enough pressure so that the cabbage would be cut into shreds. A pyramid of cut cabbage gradually grew on the cloth below. Because "Hobeln" was strenuous work and required alot of strength the "Hobler" often had to stop periodically to wipe beads of perspiration from his forehead to prevent it from "seasoning" the cabbage. It was more and more difficult as the pieces of cabbage became smaller and there was constant danger that the "Hobler" might slice his fingers. One had to be extremely careful. As the pile of cut-up cabbage heads became smaller the pyramid of shredded cabbage on the cloth grew larger. Finally the work of "Hobeln" was finished.

I can identify with the “strenuous” nature of being a “hobler,” as I was perspiring heavily, even though the temperature was in the low 60s. It’s rugged work and there is danger of slicing one’s finger, as happened to me my first time working the cutter, with my cousin. I nearly cut the tip of my finger off. Fortunately for me and my sauerkraut, I avoided an encounter with the blade, this time.

Adding to the physical nature of preparing sauerkraut, each shredded cabbage, or two, requires “packing” into the container (in my case, a large stainless steel stock pot, which is my alternative to the traditional ceramic crock, which I find are often cracked, at least used ones picked up at yard sales—stainless steel works well and doesn’t alter the taste), by pounding it down with your fist, after adding salt. Because this can be quite abrasive on your knuckles, I suggest using a rubber glove, which offers protection and saves the skin on your hands.

My wife and I prepared 50 pounds of cabbage, which we’ll be ready to cook, probably with a nice pork roast, in about four to five weeks. There’s nothing like entering the home where sauerkraut is being cooked, particularly on a cool, crisp, late autumn day.

While sauerkraut is an acquired taste, more and more people are coming to appreciate it, particularly now that others are recognizing the health benefits of fermented foods like sauerkraut.

If you’ve never had homemade sauerkraut, I recommend a fall trip to Waldoboro, particularly between Thanksgiving and Christmas, to Morse’s. Take a left at Moody’s and head north on Route 220 for about eight miles. You’ll see the farm on the left.

If you’d like to learn more about fermented foods, like sauerkraut, I recommend a great book, by Sandor Ellis Katz, Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods. My wife and I sat through a presentation that Katz gave at The Common Ground Fair and he’s a real advocate of many fermented foods, including Kimchi, Borscht and wide array of other live-culture treats.

In our germ-phobic, overly-sanitized world, there’s something to be said for the wisdom of the ages and fermentation.

Can we revitalize our downtowns?

It’s been a terribly busy stretch for me over the past two weeks. I’ve been involved with multiple projects, including the launch of a new WorkReady™ training in Lewiston, where I’m based in my day job.

Last week, I spent a bit of time in Waterville and met Faye Nicholson, from REM, a wonderful, community-based organization. Faye and I got a chance to chat and she invited me to contribute an article for their quarterly publication, Local Voices. I happily complied, putting the finishing touches on it, last night.

It appears to me that Maine has a number of communities like Waterville, possessing solid infrastructure and potentially viable downtowns, which may prove to be attractive to young professionals and boomers, whose children have left the nest. Both groups have begun looking for alternatives to suburban sameness. The former Hathaway Shirt property, now dubbed the Hathaway Creative Center, could become a magnet for downtown revitalization.

Other communities in Maine with long term potential might be Skowhegan (if you overlook perspectives from outsiders) and even Augusta. Sadly, most Mainers know little or nothing about either community and people visiting the state rarely venture up Route 201 to Skowhegan and if they do, they are apt to buzz through downtown, on their way to Jackman and points north. Augusta, as seen from I-95, is a nightmarish scenario, with the Civic Center area and now, the Western Avenue exit, veritable advertisements for how not to build sustainable economies. If you manage to make it downtown however, you’d be struck by the architecture and the beauty of the Kennebec, while also noticing the lack of much vitality in our state capital’s downtown.

I recently found the blog of Jack Schultz, a fellow with some interesting ideas about economic development, particularly as it applies to rural America. Schultz has my dream job—getting paid to travel the country, speaking to groups and discovering pockets of vitality all over the contiguous 48 states. He really is an advocate for small-town growth and the revitalization of downtown areas, the antithesis of most of what passes for economic development in much of our own state.

For my readers in Maine, I’m putting in a plug for the upcoming Summit 2007, which will be happening in two weeks, on October 19th. This should be an interesting day, at least for those of us who are interested in the recommendations of the Brookings Report, Charting Maine's Future, which fits well with my own ideas for smart growth that I developed long before it became somewhat fashionable to talk about sustainable development. Ironically, the event is being held at the Augusta Civic Center, which is the antithesis of smart, sustainable development, as well as the mess across the street at the Augusta Marketplace, with its Wal-Mart Superstore, Sam’s Club, Home Depot, Old Navy, Kohl's and other big-box monstrosities, where the locals come to offer their sacrifices at the alter of mass consumption. (I actually blogged about this and included photos, but can't find it in my archives?)

I’m hoping to get a chance to do some photo-blogging in two weeks and I’ll certainly report out from my time spent at the conference.