The Gazelle and the Groundhog, or Pilates

My daughter and I are going to Brazil in two months and I need to get in shape for a beach vacation. I also haven't bounced back from my abdominal surgery in March and I need to regain strength in my core. I recently read the best health insurance is exercise, so getting in shape will save me both money and agony when I get older. For all these reasons, I am taking pilates.

Back when Claire-Adele was in kindergarten, I met a pilates instructor at her elementary school bus stop. I had thought about taking pilates then, but the classes were expensive and at that time I rarely spent money on myself. Now I have time and money that doesn't need to be spent on my kids. Those years of self-sacrifice are over.

I also want to take pilates because every pilates instructor I've known looks like a gazelle. They are long-limbed, lithe and graceful. Many professional dancers practice pilates.

Since Pedro was born, I've slowly gained weight. The gain has been imperceptible, but this morning I saw the whole sixty pounds I've gained standing in the mirror next to my pilates instructor. 

She looked like a gazelle. I looked like a groundhog.

I looked like Ernie. She looked like Bert.

She looked Laurel. I looked like Hardy.

You get the picture.

I've been to five sessions so far, and posture is improving. I felt my muscle memory come back from when I took ballet, using my core to support me in some of the exercises instead of brute force from my thighs.

We will see where this goes. I am not sure I'll ever look like a gazelle, but maybe I'll feel as light and fleet footed as one. I would be nice to be nimble again.

Bad Poetry: The Moth

 I wish I had

a dude

in my life

to kill the giant moth

in my bathroom.

Instead,

I have locked 

the little critter

in the bathroom

waiting for it

to die.

I hope it dies soon

because 

I really

need

to pee.

Boy, Interrupted

After work today, I was at a used book store in the Market. On the table was a copy of Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen about her two years of treatment at McLean, the famous mental health hospital in Massachusetts. The book was later made into a movie starring Winona Ryder and Angelia Jolie.

I owned a copy of the book years ago, when I was reading everything I could find on mental illness after my brother's breakdown.

I started to cry today when I saw the book, as so much had happened when I read the book in 2007 and now. When I read the story, I had no idea my son would spend time in treatment, and that I would be the one who would ship him off. 

I remember reading the story, and feeling like the parents were the villains, the ones whose shitty, distant, or unaccepting behavior drove their kids nuts. Or, maybe the kids weren't the crazy ones, but the parents were, but because the parents had the power and the means, the kids were the ones shipped off, even if the parents were just as fucked up, or maybe more so.

When I look back to when I first read the book, I saw my own naïveté, my own innocence for what was yet to come. 

I could blame myself, but I won't. I can, however, take responsibility for my own behavior and how it impacted my family and those I love. I did the best I could do at the time, and I continue to grow and heal.

Toxic Capitalism

I am reading a fascinating new book, Palo Alto: A History of California, Capitalism and the World, by Malcolm Harris. I haven't finished it yet, but the history it describes is compelling, and much I didn't know. I studied history in college (mostly European) and I had always thought it would be interesting to study the rise and fall of organizations, companies, how they grew and thrived.

This book is the history of California, specifically Palo Alto, Stanford, and Silicon Valley. I am about a quarter of the way through, and I am shocked at how much I am learning. While I may disagree with the author's theme that capitalism is the root of all evil, I think he has some good points. His challenge is that he sees the world in black and white, good and bad. I am not going to go all Gordon Gekko and say "Greed is good," but the money put into innovation can give this world amazing things.

That being said, I now believe in Toxic Capitalism, according to my own definition. Does a company or an organization do the following:

• Was genocide or slavery involved in the production of goods?
• Were land and other resources stolen from a group or state? 
• Did the company creating the product clean up their own mess, or did they leave that to others? Can the mess even be cleaned or rectified?
• Outside of slavery and genocide, are the people doing the work paid a fair wage? 
• Outside of slavery and genocide, are there reasonably safe working conditions? (I am not talking about fire fighters or others whose jobs are inherently dangerous.)
• If the wages are fair, are the job opportunities open to more than the dominant power class? Does the company hire women, LGBTQ people, people of color, etc, for any position, not just menial labor?
• Does the organization have a responsible plan for how to dispose of the product once its usefulness is done?
• Does the product cause harm to people?

As time goes on, I think of more things to add to the list. 

Here is my thought: Can we have Responsible Capitalism? Can we produce goods and have innovation that doesn't hurt people or the planet? 

Claire-Adele was recently in Denmark and Sweden, home to some of the happiest people in the world. the social safety net there is remarkable, and as a result, people feel safe and secure. Is this purely a Robin Hood case of steal from the rich and give to the poor? Not exactly. The poor might be given a roof over their heads, but the country also works to see that people have meaningful work. Claire-Adele told me about a small town in Sweden that used to be a ship building. When the industry went away, the country decided to support the town and see what else could be done there. The town had a ferry that was a portal to the rest of Europe, bringing in goods. Then they built a bridge, so the ferry business went under, and the town was re-invented a third time. (I don't recall the details of this incarnation.) 

Can we have Compassionate Capitalism? Can we have Kind Capitalism?

As I have Returned to Office, I realize that big businesses also need small businesses. I work for a large corporation, but I need to eat lunch near my office, and get coffee and breakfast. I might need to run an errand or two on my lunch break. These small mom-and-pop shops make working downtown not just tolerable, but pleasant and fun. (I don't want to say all big businesses are bad and all small businesses are good, but big companies have a bigger footprint so the impact of their toxicity is greater.)

I guess I feel like Responsible Capitalism could be called "Mom Capitalism," as Toxic Capitalism feels like the world is run by punk-ass teenage boys. I am not convinced we need to get rid of capitalism, but perhaps we just need the capitalists to grow up.