McMansion under construction by merfam

Remember when people where trending on such topics as “downsizing” and “simple living?”  It seems like just yesterday.  With untold McMansions listing in their weed-infested suburbs across the U.S. it would seem that the time was indeed ripe for reason to reenter our housing market and smaller footprints and more practical usage of square footage to be valued and rewarded.  The only problem is that downsizing is easy to talk about and hard to do.

American’s love things big.  As my wife and I have listed our 4 bed 3 bath, 1990 sq. ft. home in SLC for sale we have discovered that it is too small to demand top dollar (in our current crappy homes market).  I thought such a home would be ideal for all the people who have been talking about downsizing from their 3,000 sq. ft. 3 bed and 3 bath houses.  But, apparently there aren’t any such people.  What there are, are people who are looking for their first home and finding that 2,000 sq. ft. just isn’t big enough.

Redonculous.  Undergirding current U.S. home sales, or lack of them, is a symptom of our addiction to size.  Appraisers and Realtors still evaluate homes by dollar per sq. ft.  I realize this is a handy little tool to come up with a quick and dirty estimate of a home’s value.  But seriously.  Any builder can come up with stupid ways to waste square footage in order to drop this ratio.  The 1990’s stand as proof.  For decades now U.S. homes have attempted to find all sorts of ways to bloat themselves just for the sake of bloatage – no practical use at all.

I design a home with practical and usable spaces, small bedrooms, custom-built closets and multi-use family spaces and it gets undervalued in the market because it doesn’t waste space well enough.  Realtors advise their clients to steer clear, because after all, they can find a home with more square footage for the same price.  And we all know that bigger is better.  Well, my family’s is about to experience a gypsy’s square footage, if we can ever sell this just less than 2,000 sq. ft. house.  Maybe I’ll add a 1,000 sq. ft dirt room on the back.

Sweatshop in Chicago

Sweatshops.  Sounds kind’a nice as I watch the snow fall outside my window here in SLC, in April.  Oh, to feel the sweat trickle down the small of my back and then slowly spread along my waistband front and back until it looks like I have thoroughly wet myself.  Oh to feel a hard dirt floor with my blistered and cracked feet and to be able to gnaw on my swollen, spongy tongue longing for a cool drink of water.  Instead I just sit here at my fancy computer typing away with a hot mug of tea watching this freekin’ frozen crap cling to my grapevines and tulips.

Surely I jest.  But seriously, in my quest to discover the truth about global sweatshop numbers and stats I have discovered that this is an idiotic quest.  Much more important are the numbers and factors that make sweatshops not only flourish, but attractive.

Wikipedia defines a sweatshop as “a working environment with unhealthy conditions that are considered by many people of industrialized nations to be difficult or dangerous, usually where the workers have few opportunities to address their situation. This can include exposure to harmful materials, hazardous situations, extreme temperatures, or abuse from employers. Sweatshop workers often work long hours for little pay, regardless of any laws mandating overtime pay or a minimum wage.

Sounds great, right?  So what sort of madness causes these things to thrive around the world (even in the U.S.)?  Simply put, greed and poverty.  Nicholas Kristof raises a good point in his op-ed for the NYTimes from last year.  Sweatshops are real nice options for people who would otherwise live and work in a garbage village.  Hmmm.  So what you are saying, Nick, is that while sweatshops suck, poverty is a bit broader and can suck even more?

A study done by the Wold Bank shows that in 2005 20% of the world’s population lived in what is considered extreme poverty, on just $1.25 a day.  Around 50% live on $2.50 or less a day.  If we stretch it to $10 a day we can include 80% of the world’s population.  This, ladies and gentlemen is poverty.  Estimates say that around 12% of those living in the United States fall below the national poverty line.

The real bummer is that, like most of us, I enjoy the things that poverty makes for me.  I have a connection with my mug.  I like my computer and all the rest of the stuff cluttering my desk.  Even though I like not to think about it, I know that most of it was made by people living off of jack-crap and a cracker.  Heaven forfend, some of the crafters of my crap probably labor for a sweatshop.

So how can we combat sweatshops when so many people around the world would leap out of their garbage pile for such a swanky job?  Well, first of all, we have to share.  My two-year old gets it most of the time.  Forget the complicated economic systems and formulas.  If something is “mine,” then it ain’t “yours.”

Secondly, it is time to realize that low, low prices usually means low, low morals.  When I spend $39 for a DVD player several people just got screwed in that transaction.  When I spend $29 for a pair of jeans a bunch of people just got paid a fraction of a penny for their labor.  Crap, I know!  Sharing sometimes means we have to play fair when we use our purchasing power here in the States.  And the real stick in the eye is that I have to bother to search out commercial goods that help me share when I buy them!  Fair wage they call it.  Sweatshop-free labor.

But it’s true.  We live in such a screwed up world that it is our responsibility as consumers to ensure that we don’t get the best price on a product, but that we share our surplus wealth with those who need it.  This is one case when buying can be saving.  By buying socially-aware goods we can save human lives, dignity and health by freely offering up what we can afford to live without when we are buying the things we choose to live with.

I will call upon someone with a modicum of professional talent in Salt Lake City to make the prototype of “One True Pants.”  Yes, the pair of pants that all others will one day bend the knee towards and acknowledge as king.  How could I expect this pair of pants to be found wondering the savannas of retail America?  No, the one true pants has yet to be woven together in the womb of its father’s mind.  Too far?  Yeah, I don’t even understand myself anymore.

Recently though, I found more helpful insight from Eric VandenBerg, the founder of the Hemp Barn.  What will really blow your mind about a place called the Hemp Barn is not that it is primarily an earth-friendly upholstery store, or that it was founded by a young, non-hippy male, but that it is based in Salt Lake City.  I know.  Miracles never cease.

Eric is a totally down to earth guy that had a dream and followed it.  Now that dream is growing into a successful business.  He admits that he still has another part-time job to make ends meet, but hopefully it won’t be long before upholstering worn-out cotton furnishings and providing hemp-based, household inspiration can pay all the bills.

As for my little quest Eric was immensely helpful in allowing me to inspect several swatches (take a moment to role that word around in your mouth.  Swatches.) as I attempt to figure out which fabric to roll with for my OTP.  It turns out that I may be able to use fabric as heavy as 14 or 15 oz. depending on the weave.  Although at the moment I am still leaning toward something in a tightly woven canvas around the 12 once weight.

The next big challenge is to find a seamstress and to determine the exact pattern that should be used for OTP prototype production.  Stay tuned.  Gotta’ go wash the metaphorical dirt out of my hair.

Orvis is the only clothing store with a website that sells hemp pants in size 34×34 for men.  I know.  A powerful statement made by a man wearing cannabis crafted clothing, but true.  Nowhere else could I find my coveted pants.  Orvis had two colors to chose from in 3 different inseams and several waist sizes.

Outdoorsmen and farmers have known for over a hundred years that hemp makes a durable yet breathable pair of pants — pants you can do real work in.  This is something many granolas apparently don’t know about.  While they sit around in yoga poses wearing their drawstring, high-water pants, I am sitting in my cushy, office chair in my durable, work-capable hemp pants.  And you know what, I might go do some real work when the weather warms up.

For now, I’ve got more NFL playoffs to attend to, and I’m glad I know I can rely on my new hemp pants to keep me cheering in style.  For now, Granolas are down 7 to 0 against Outdoorsmen.  If you would like to join me wearing the only pair of sustainable Hemp pants available on-line click here.

I’ve tried everything as a remedy to the extended warranty.  I have tried buying cheep pieces of crap that can be replaced a dozen times before the expense adds up to the warranty.  I have tried buying top of the line appliances that I figure shouldn’t need an extended warranty.  I’ve tried bribing repairmen, making fake threats and even begging.  None of these has worked, with one notable exception.  (I begged a genius at the Apple Genius Bar to have mercy on me and my two year old imac that needed a new logic board.  He looked suspiciously around to see if this was a Steve Jobs orchestrated sting operation and then kindly agreed to fix it for free!)

Frick!  People.  I just want something made without the intent of braking or malfunctioning within the next few years.  I want a product that the company is so confident about that they include any possible hassle in the future into the original price tag.  For the love of God!  Am I the only one!?

Aside:  Why, you may ask, am I even discussing this on a blog to do with sustainability.  Well, thanks for asking, but it is simple.  I naturally find my values for longevity and sustainability caring over into my consumerism.  When I buy stuff I at least hope that the raw materials and energy that went into the item’s construction and shipping will at least have served some useful function.  Beyond that even, I hope that the useful function will continue as long as possible so that I don’t have to play my patriotic consumer role again for quite some time.  It goes back to the issue of craftsmanship.

Apparently there are others out there that have made themselves heard, because I have finally had a consumeristic experience that has left me pleasantly numb instead of tooth splintering angry.  In this scenario praise must go out for Costco and Vizio.  I’ll tell the world.  Last year I bought an Vizio LDC TV from Costco.  Within the sticker price I received the Costco Concierge Service for six months and a one year warranty for the TV.  This might not sound like much, but it’s a TV.  One year is long enough to work out most of the kinks.  About five months after buying the TV it started to freeze.  Nothing would wake it up short of unplugging it and plugging it back in.  I called the Concierge number and a kind respresentative picked up after only a short wait.  They called Vizio for me and helped set up an appointment for a repairman to come out.  The repairman came out as promised.  He replaced the A/V board and left.  The TV continued with it’s ailment.  I called the Concierge again.  A representative again called Vizio for me.  Here is the kicker — Vizio immediately offered to send out a new TV with a return packing slip for the old one.

I nearly shat myself.  I bought the cheapest TV from the most affordable place I could find, AND I got good service.  Damn.  Next thing you know I will finally find a product that doesn’t break…