The Luddite’s Moonshot

Charles C. Mann’s article in the Atlantic, “Can Planet Earth Feed 10 Billion People?” contrasts the differences between an environmentalism of limits, as extolled by plant pathologist and Rachel Carson buddy William Vogt versus the techo-optimism of the architect of the Green Revolution, Norman Borlaug. Mann calls these two opposing camps “prophets” and “wizards.” It should be no surprise that Root Simple falls into the prophetic tribe. I believe we need to reduce our consumption and learn to live within the carrying capacity (a phrase coined by Vogt) of our finite planet. The wizards of this world simply do not consider the unintended consequences of their technological solutions nor the destruction brought by the rapacious greed of their Wall Street backers.

In the Atlantic article Mann speculates about a “Luddite’s Moonshot,” a way to feed the growing population of this planet without resorting to GMOs or synthetic fertilizers. It certainly won’t be easy. But it got me thinking about the other Luddite Moonshots we need to work on. I should note that the Luddites were a movement of people attempting to maintain control over their craft and not be exploited by a bunch of factory owning tech bros. Sound familiar? But I digress.

I keep a private list of Luddite Moonshots that, had I the means of B.S. vendors such as Elon Musk or Chris Sacca, I’d throw a ton of money at. Thankfully, this list consists of things humans have done before and that could be done right here and right now. Once the tech bros realize that Mars is a barren and inhospitable wasteland, here’s a list of things they can help with:

  • Mediterranean gardening with perennial food crops.
  • Mammalian garden invasions, i.e. those infernal squirrels/raccoons/skunks.
  • Meal preparation for busy people. I realize the tech bros have taken up this problem with services such as Blue Apron and Hello Fresh. But I think there’s a better way we can do this at home without the shipping and packaging.
  • Preventing food waste in the home.
  • Internet distraction/news addiction.
  • Garden design for small spaces.
  • Getting neoliberal Democratic Los Angeles politicians to back progressive transportation projects that benefit pedestrians/cyclists/users of public transit. This is the most frustrating problem on my list. With just some paint a few concrete barriers we’d have a bike and pedestrian friendly Los Angeles today. No need to wait for those Musk tunnels.
  • Reuniting art and craft.
  • Clutter. Ugh. Clutter.
  • Cleaning for the cleaning challenged.
  • Bringing back shop class.
  • Philosophical/theological literacy in our schools.
  • How to gather people. Kelly cringes when people talk about “community” because it’s one of those words overused to the point of meaninglessness. Nevertheless, we seem to be really bad at getting together and there’s a real plague of loneliness in this country.
  • Memory training.
  • My Generation X postmodern ironic distancing approach to everything.
  • Reviving traditional design without the icky far right politics.
  • The Jurgen Habermas problem.

I’d like to throw open this list to you, my dear Root Simple readers. Please feel free to add some moonshots of your own or comment on the ones I’ve included.

Saturday Tweets: Weeds, Bees and General Crankiness

Installing Solid Wood Flooring

As part of my quixotic war on laminates, I spent a blissful afternoon installing a solid hardwood floor in our new/old closet. I know laminates have defenders, but I just can’t get behind any material that tries to look like another material. Maybe if they made laminate floors that looked like raw sheets of plywood I could support the idea.

If you want to install your own solid hardwood floor I’d suggest getting an online subscription to Fine Homebuilding just to watch their flooring installation instructional video. This is the second time I’ve installed a wood floor and here’s what I learned:

  • Layout is the hardest part.
  • Rent a pneumatic nailer. The last time I installed a floor I used a manual nailer and learned that driving 1,000 nails takes a toil on your joints.
  • Get a piece of scrap wood and practice using the pneumatic nailer. You can also use this test piece to adjust the air pressure.
  • If you’re installing a pre-finished floor, as I was yesterday, be careful not to bang up the floor as you put it in. Don’t lay hammers or crowbars on the new floor.
  • Let the flooring sit in the house for at least a few weeks before installing. I got a moisture meter to check the flooring material that I also plan on using for future furniture projects. In our case the new flooring was significantly dryer than our old drafty house.
  • Take your time. If a board doesn’t look right pull it up and try another one. Inspect each row after it goes in for defects and nailing mistakes. This isn’t a race and you’re not being paid by the hour.

I’m pleased with the results and I like the fact that sold oak flooring will last ten times as long as laminates. Over the next few weeks I’m going to replace the worn out douglas fir flooring in two other rooms with solid oak.

Let me say how thankful I am for the power of compressed air. That said, some time ago I fell into a YouTube hole, watching old films of early 20th century construction. One of the clips showed flooring being installed with just a hammer at the speed of modern workers with a pneumatic nailer. Then there’s the lost art of plastering but that would be another curmudgeony post . . .

Do I Need Books?

In order to begin the restoration project we commenced a month ago, I had to box up the contents of our bookshelves. Not once have I had any need or desire to open any of those boxes and retrieve a book. Which leads to an uncomfortable question for an author: do I need to own any books?

One of the extreme tidying methods suggested by Fumio Sasaki, author of Goodbye Things, is to box your possessions, wait for a reasonable period of time and if you don’t use any of those items, send them to the thrift store. If I were to use this method my entire library, with the exception of a few books I left out of the boxes, would be cast off.

I’ve realized that in those boxes I have books which:

  • I’ve read and will probably never read again.
  • I will probably never read but think that I should read.
  • Are a souvenir of some place or experience.

These need to go. More tricky will be the books:

  • To which we contributed articles or chapters.
  • I know the library doesn’t have and that I think I will read someday.
  • Which are reference books or cookbooks that we regularly use.

These latter books I will keep but could probably do without (I lack the iron will of Fumio Sasaki).

Interestingly, I’ve found myself reading more now that I can’t access my books. Three days a week I go to the YMCA which is mere steps from the vast Los Angeles Central Library. I can, pretty much, find any book I want there. I also have an iPad which I use to download public domain books as well as some new ebooks that the library makes available for free.

Sometimes one’s personal library can devolve into a kind of virtue signaling, a way to seem smart when visitors drop by. In my case it’s definitely time for a book winnowing and, yes, I will still have a bookshelf populated with books I use for reference. Kelly has her own books and shelf.

Of course books have a tendency to accumulate and I have no doubt that I will have to go through a book cleaning process again in the future. In the meantime I hope to remember that books are meant to be read, used and passed on to someone else.

New Sill Plate and Joists

It was one of those weeks when the responsibilities of homeownership left us pining for the carefree life of an apartment or condo denizen. And I’m gonna have to resort to all caps to tell you why.

I spent the last few days replacing a rotten sill plate, the horizontal piece of wood that lies between the foundation and the floor joists. Said job leads to the following all caps admonition: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT POUR A CONCRETE PATIO ABOVE THE LEVEL OF YOUR FOUNDATION! When that patio cracks and fails, please do not pour another one on top of it. If you attach a deck to your house please hire a professional to make sure that it’s attached with carefully considered and properly installed flashing. Do not allow dirt to pile up against your house. Remember that water has a tendency to move in unexpected ways while simultaneously feeding an army of termites. Out of sight and out of mind, the wood in your house will rot out while you enjoy the high life of barbecues and cheap beers on your crappy concrete patio.

Speaking of professionals, if you live in Southern California be aware that all the well trained tradesfolk are working on Barbara Streisand’s Malibu mansion and are not interested in your tiny bungalow at least until the next, overdue, economic meltdown arrives. The professional I contacted for the sill replacement told me that he was busy for months and proceeded to tell me to do it myself, which is why I found myself wielding two car jacks and a sawzall for the past few days. He also suggested sistering the joists which took up another day that I could have spent doing the things that normally take up the time of glamorous urban homesteading bloggers in the big city such as pondering avocado toast recipes or dehydrating loquats.

After much all caps thinking, I came to the conclusion that we need a kind of time traveling Dr. Who character whose sold mission would be to stop misguided remodeling projects in the past. He’d spend a lot of time in the 1960s and 70s halting bad patio pours, stopping popcorn ceiling applications, preventing stuccoing, and outlawing drop ceiling material.

I’m sure you, my dear Root Simple readers have a few bad remodeling anecdotes to share . . .