After a long and consumptive holiday hiatus, OG is back on the soapbox.
I feel a need to offer penance after a holiday like Christmas. On this blog, and in my life, I love to go on about consumerism, planned obsolescence, and unintended consequences. But, on December 25th, these things are abandoned, shouted down by cultural fiat.
My family has made some attempt to address the true meaning of Christmas, instituting a five-dollar limit on gifts. This is great, but it doesn't help my own craven failings . . .
I went to the mall last week.
I'm not proud of it. But hey, I needed some things, and there were sales, and sometimes you need to try things on . . .
And so the penance. A New Year's purge has cleared closets and enriched Goodwill. Insufficiently sated, I went on a repair binge.
I have been a repairer for many years, mostly engaged in fixing up old buildings. Despite the costs (and risks), fixing up something old is a fundamentally sustainable choice, as it takes advantage of the time and energy already embedded in the structure. Repair cannot defeat entropy, but it can trick the universe for a time.
|The dirt of a thousand vanquished joists.|
|A tale of the needle and the damage done . . .|
|High and tight. I look good in black.|
|An ill-fated trip to the roof, in the rain, and subsequent hypothermic travails renders my repair, well, un-repairable.|
The Manifesto philosophizes the fix-it. Paulo Goldstein makes some Rube-Goldbergian repairs to common objects. Soojin Kang knits it all back together. Sigurdur Gustafsson splices the split. John Preus furnishes the far reaches. Darning is not yet dead.
And all good things come to an end. Until they are reborn.