Kelsey Timmerman's Blog, page 60

1 of 35 Million living with AIDS

Yesterday was World AIDS Day. I couldn't get this voice out of my head so I thought I would share it. Susan is a single mother of six. I met her this past spring in Kampala, Uganda. She lost her husband to AIDS and later tested positive herself. Because of funding cuts at her clinic, she doesn't receive the proper ARV treatment and no longer receives food for her and her children. She's 1 of 35 million living with AIDS.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Blue Moose Nuts

They were blue. They were testicles. And they were huge. They swung from the pickup truck in front of us.

"I'm going to call him," I said, "and tell him that his blue moose nuts make me sick."

Annie laughed.

I picked up my phone and started to dial the number on the tailgate decal advertising a tree-trimming service.

"Are you really calling him?" Annie asked. I showed her the "calling" screen on my phone.

"Yep, I'm going to tell him how unprofessional blue moose nuts are and how I would never use his service because of them."

She tried to talk me out of it. I didn't listen. But when the first ring rang I pictured the fella answering his phone, turning around to look out the back window, spitting out his wad of tobacco and doing one of two things: backing his jacked up pickup truck up and onto our tiny Chevy Cavalier so his moose nuts knock up against our windshield, or throwing his truck into park, hopping out and trying to whoop me right there on McGalliard Street.

Before the second ring I had determined that calling him wasn't a good idea. Maybe I'm stereotyping here, but I doubt a fella that would hang blue moose nuts from his bumper would take kindly to having his truck and/or truck accessories criticized.

I hung up.

Twenty minutes later my phone rings. I answer.

"Who is this?" It was Blue Moose Nuts! I was taken aback by the bluntness, the disregard for any social etiquette, and the WTF-tone.

"Who is THIS?" I said with a bit of a chip on my shoulder.

"You try calling me?"

This was the moment that I could tell him what I thought of his big blue moose nuts. Annie was looking at a children's book in TJ Max and turned to listen with interest. I thought of the man's children and how they were sitting at home counting the days until Christmas. How they hoped Dad came home soon so they could show him the bike that they hoped he would tell Santa about. I thought about how me offering my opinion on his moose nuts would probably really piss him off and put him in no mood for Christmas wishes.

I also thought it probably wasn't a great idea to harass a man skilled with a chainsaw.

"Oh," I stumbled, "I'm sorry, I must've dialed a wrong number."

There's a reason I don't have big blue moose nuts swinging from the bumper of any of my vehicles.

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Related Posts:

A rant: Peeing Calvin

A Note to the Officer Who Handed Me a $215 Speeding Ticket

So much to be thankful for

I'm thankful that I was able to play a small part in helping make this film for Life In Abundance this spring.

Harper just crawled up my lap and sat still for the entire trailer. When I was surrounded by the kids in the slums of Nairobi I couldn't help but think of her. Now that I'm home I can't help but think of them.

This Is My Normal Trailer from Life in Abundance on Vimeo.

2010 Engaged Consumer Gift Guide

On Friday the population of the United State doubles. Or at least it seems to in Muncie, Indiana. Starbucks will be crammed with saggy-eyed shoppers selling sleep for a good deal. Target's parking lot will be bumper-to-bumper, the chaos moving tectonically slow if it moves at all.

Ears will be filled with Christmas music, hearts with joy, credit cards with debt, and fingernails caked with the epithelials of the other shoppers you had to claw out of the way between you and the Chia Obama. Muncie CSI will find them later, but for now you can enjoy shopping.

Chances are the products will be made by someone like iPhone girl, or someone I met on my Where Am I Wearing trip, who works long, hard hours and barely gets by.

But what if shopping could be different? What if you could stay home in your PJs, eat leftovers, and read a book or watch football? What if you knew that you were supporting a company that cares about the people who manufacture their goods and the environment? What if you didn't only buy a gift for someone, but supported a great company or a great cause?

Introducing the 2010 Engaged Consumer Gift Guide

These are companies that I can 100% vouch for. I've either visited them myself or have had multiple interactions with their management. They are good people doing cool things. Striving not just to produce a product, but to make a difference in the world.

SoleRebels

I visited soleRebels this spring. Here's the report I filed on my visit. They pay their workers three times what other such workers get in Ethiopia. All their shoes are organic – they aren't exactly pumping their cows full of horomones and steroids in Ethiopia. And all of their products come from within 60 miles of their factory. From my perspective, this is the world's most ethical shoe company, providing quality jobs that are changing lives of entire families in Ethiopia.

Buy 'em on Amazon

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Cotton of the Carolina's T-shirt

The cotton was grown in North Carolina by Ronnie Burleson, the Ginner was Wes Morgan also in North Carolina as were the spinner, knitter, finisher, cutter, sewer, dyer, and printer. From dirt to shirt in 750 miles all without leaving the great state of North Carolina. Cotton of the Carolina's are the official T-shirt provider of the Great Touron King – aka me — (I have two T-shirts) and I guarantee you will never have a shirt that is more comfortable. Also, that Ronnie Burleson is a heckuva nice guy so you should feel pretty good about that too.

Buy 'em here!

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RainTees

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Saving Trees with Tees. RainTees donates school supplies to children living in the rain forests of Ecuador, Brazil, Peru, and Costa Rica. The children draw what they see happening to the rainforest. RainTees prints the drawings on eco-friendly organic shirts. You buy one because you are awesome. RainTees donates a tree to be planted in the rainforest.

Buy 'em here!

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All American Clothing Company

Buy jeans made grown and sewn in the USA. Don't believe it. Go to their website and trace the path of your jeans from a field in Texas to your closet. I wish more companies would allow their products to be traced like this.

Buy 'em here!

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The Belted Cow

The belts are made in Maine. The artists who design the belts are Mainiacs as well. I have one a ring style Belted Cow belt and a leather belt that is "good for holding up your pants or pulling a car out of the ditch." The Belted Cow is the official belt provider (I have three) of the Great Touron King.

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The apparel industry comes under a lot of heat, but these companies are doing it right. If you buy their products, not only are you getting a great product, but you are becoming a part of their story, and enough stories like the ones above could change the face of fashion forever.

Need more shopping suggestions? Check out SweatFree Communities 2010 Shop with a Conscious Consumer Guide.

Chia Obama: Does our consumerism know no bounds?

Click here to view the embedded video.

Nothing says Hope like planting a seed on a bald bust of the President of the United States and hoping it grows.

Enter: Chia Obama

Yes, we live in a world where people will buy a Chia Obama, a Chia Lincoln, and even a Chia George Washington.

I had a Chia lamb back in the day. My grandma got it for me for Christmas. I spread out the seeds, applied the fertilizer, and my sheep appeared to have gone through a long series of chemo treatments followed by being trapped in a burning barn. The grass was anything but even and mostly barely there.

I was devastated. On TV it was magic "Ch-ch-ch Chia" and boom there was a beautiful coat, or afro, or wig. Heck even the statue of Liberty has a Chia head o' hair.

One other thought about those commercials. How is it that the new Chia Obama commercial looks like it was produced in 1985.? What kind of branding is crappy production value?

Such is the magic of Chia.

A thousand words…Harper's toes in the ocean for the 1st time

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Writers

James Frey, author of "A Million Little Pieces," whipping boy of Oprah, fictionalizer of facts, wearer of a beard, seer through droopy eyes, wants to publish your book.

Excited?

He'll pay you a whopping $250 up front.

Excited now?

$250 is barely enough to buy a shotgun and ammo at Wal-Mart to shoot dead your literary career.

Yet writers are signing on with Frey's Full Fathom Five publishing company. Frey and his company are profiled in a recent New York Magazine piece, James Frey's Fiction Factory.

Here's what Conrad Rippy has to say about the contract Frey is offering:

It's an agreement that says, "You're going to write for me. I'm going to own it. I may or may not give you credit. If there is more than one book in the series, you are on the hook to write those too, for the exact same terms, but I don't have to use you. In exchange for this, I'm going to pay you 40 percent of some amount you can't verify — there's no audit provision — and after the deduction of a whole bunch of expenses."

Here you have MFA students likely growing more in debt by the semester hoping to earn enough off their writing to pay off their loans and maybe eat, agreeing to do oodles of work for $250 up front. I'm auditing a class (Literary Journalism) at my local university, Ball State, this semester. One credit hour costs over $300 (only $40 to audit).

Frey's getting bashed. One of my favorite authors/bloggers, John Scalzi, wrote:

Just to be clear, if James Frey (or anyone else) tried to offer me this contract to write a book, here's what I would do: Have my agent schedule a meeting with him for the clear and specific purpose of kicking him hard and square in the balls.

Yes, that is why I read John everyday. (John also has some interesting thoughts on the need for MFA programs to educate their students about the business of the publishing industry.)

But Frey's crappy offer and the fact that folks sign up for it is a symptom of the level of desperation with a simple root cause: it's damn hard to make a living right now as a writer.

It's not easy to get a book deal or earn a living freelancing or have a job at a newspaper or magazine. Media and publishing are in flux. Selling ebooks for twice what a hardcover book costs or selling ads for your site seem like better ways to make a living at this point. Pimping your site and marketing your self-produced goods seem like more important skills than producing content of value or of any artistic merit. I'm not as jaded as that sounds. (You don't see any ads or ebooks for sale here, do ya?) But I can see why some might believe this to be true and pursue a payday or promise of a writing career at all costs.

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently published a piece titled, The Shadow Scholar about a fella who writes papers for students from undergrads to PhD candidates. This year he is on pace to earn $66,000!

How did he get into this? He was desperate to make a living as a writer.

I was determined to write for a living…When I completed my first novel, in the summer between sophomore and junior years, I contacted the English department about creating an independent study around editing and publishing it. I was received like a mental patient. I was told, "There's nothing like that here." I was told that I could go back to my classes, sit in my lectures, and fill out Scantron tests until I graduated…I was, begging anybody in authority to take my work seriously. But my classmates did. They saw my abilities and my abundance of free time. They saw a value that the university did not. It turned out that my lazy, Xanax-snorting, Miller-swilling classmates were thrilled to pay me to write their papers. And I was thrilled to take their money. Imagine you are crumbling under the weight of university-issued parking tickets and self-doubt when a frat boy offers you cash to write about Plato. Doing that job was a no-brainer. Word of my services spread quickly, especially through the fraternities. Soon I was receiving calls from strangers who wanted to commission my work. I was a writer!

In short, he was desperate!

He's even helped future principals and school administrators cheat!

I've written essays for those studying to become school administrators, and I've completed theses for those on course to become principals. In the enormous conspiracy that is student cheating, the frontline intelligence community is infiltrated by double agents. (Future educators of America, I know who you are.)

I don't do work that don't make me smile. That's always been my mantra (thanks Crosby, Stills, and Nash!). I've never written a word just for the money. That said, I don't have any students loans that need paid off. I live in Indiana where living is cheap, and I have a wife that brings in a regular paycheck. I'm able to bring in enough income from writing and speaking that I don't have to sacrifice what I want to write for the promise of a payday. My writing career developed over a period of eight years. Patience and focus are required.

But not every writer has the luxury of patience and therefore they are vulnerable to creeps like Frey or professions like helping students cheat for a living.

The Shadow Scholar writes, "I live well on the desperation, misery, and incompetence…" So does Frey.

Travelers Give A Shit

I give a shit about the Great (shrinking) Barrier Reef because I've chased a turtle around it.

I give a shit about melting glaciers because I've climbed on one in New Zealand.

I give a shit about the persisting tension in Kosovo because I've played PlayStation and shared countless cups of tea with college students in Pristina.

I give a shit about hurricanes hammering Honduras because I've played baseball there.

I give a shit about garment workers in Bangladesh because I've taught them how to throw a Frisbee and been to an amusement park with them.

I give a shit about orphans in Guatemala and Nepal because I've played Hacky Sack with them.

I give a shit about those displaced by the Three Gorges Dam in China because I've eaten in their restaurant.

I give a shit about scavengers at Phnom Penh's city dump because I've smelled what they smell every day.

I give a shit about teens who live in Africa's slums because I talked about Ruben Studdard with them.

I give a shit about Kenyans having access to clean drinking water because I've witnessed kids fetching water in streams next to cow patties.

I give a shit about flooding in Bangladesh because I've had dinner in the flooded homes.

I give a shit about Ireland's economy because I've had a pint with graduates who can't find work.

I give a shit about HIV-treatment in Uganda because I've met a fella who dropped out of college to get a job because his dad died and he has to support his brothers and sisters.

I give a shit about the lobster divers of Nicaragua because I spent the better part of an afternoon stranded in the rain with a few of them.

I give a shit about sharks being de-finned because I've had my day made by the slightest glimpse of a shark in the open ocean.

I give a shit about all of these things and all of these places because I have traveled there. I give a shit about all of the places I haven't been and all the people I haven't met because I know if I went there and met them I would give a shit about them even more.

I give a shit because I'm a traveler.

And I'm not alone.

Every Tuesday I give away $10. This Tuesday I'm giving $20 (I missed last Tuesday) to Passports with Purpose, a group of travelers who give a shit by doing cool things. Last year they built a school in rural Cambodia and this year they are building a village in India. Yes, that's right, a village! Join me in donating. Every $10 donation enters you to win prizes from an iPad, to plane tickets, to Norwegian cruises.

Cheap Flights

A simple act, a world of change

What would the world be like if when everyone put on their shirt in the morning they checked the tag and took a moment to think about the people who made it and what their life was like? How would it inform our worldview?

I spent the weekend at the a conferencein Olympia, Washington. I'll do a summary later, but for now I wanted to share this picture of a painting by Janet Essley. The painting is part of a traveling exhibit. To bring it to your community contact Liana at liana(at)sweatfree(dot)org.

Here's what the artist had to say about the paintings:

"As we remember [the sewer's] hands on each piece of clothing that we wear, may we envision a new world that globalizes compassion. May we insist upon living conditions for others that we enjoy for ourselves.

"The paintings ask the viewer to acknowledge the intimate connection we have to women in other parts of the world and to explore through this the impacts of corporate globalization on all our lives. The current realignment of the garment industry due to the end of previous trade agreements threatens the employment of tens of thousands of women workers who are the sole support of their families in countries around the world, including the U.S. The paintings encourage a globalization of empathy and the human right for work with dignity."

Ron Burgundy would've got it right

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I've never been to Burma. But somebody forgot to tell that to the folks at the CBS-Affiliate in Rockford, Illinois. They interviewed me while I was at Rockford College and reported that Burma was one of the countries I visited on my Where Am I Wearing quest.

You can see the interview here.

The station sent one fella out. He seemed hurried, apparently not even having the time to say hello when he walked in the room. He started to set up his equipment without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. Not a "Hi, I'm Jim" or a "I hate my job. How are you?" Once the camera was ready, he re-read the 100-word email the college had sent him and asked, "What are ya gonna be talking about?"

So I rambled on, trying to bring a little energy to the conversation. Not once did I mention boycotts. However, I did talk about the job loss in Cambodia as the result of the financial crisis, which was cut to sound like 70,000 workers lost their jobs because of a boycott. Oh, dear.

I don't hold anything against the fella who did the interview or against the station. I'm thankful they sent someone out at all. I'm sure some overworked editor listened to me blab for five minutes and then snip, snip, clip, clip, "Kelsey went to Burma."

If anything, it's a reminder how much sources need to be checked. When the Financial Times did a story on me, they had errors. When I researched WAIW I found an error in TIME or Newsweek (can't remember) which underestimated the cost of the Three Gorges Dam by 100s of millions of dollars because they had the currency wrong.

A note to journalists and writers: Check and check again.

I've never been to Burma. I searched my blog and have written Burma once. Where in the world did that come from? A scotch-breathed Ron Burgundy wouldn't have fabricated facts that much, maybe…