Call me a slow thinker, but there was something about Wal-Mart's "green space trade" plan, announced a couple months back, that bothered me from the start but which has only now crystallized. The company's plan is to buy and preserve an amount of land equal to that which it develops for its stores over the next ten years, to in effect compensate for its development with non-development elsewhere.

What bothers me most about it is the logic that underlies such a deal. I think of it as a sort of "kindly thief" offering: a thief who tells you that he's going to rob as many houses as he likes for as long as he likes, but he promises to avoid robbing one house for every house he robs. Doesn't sound like much of a deal, does it? But the logic is essentially the same. This "gift" we're getting from Wal-Mart is something we already have: undeveloped land. What's implied in this deal is that the un-bought, un-developed land out there now is theirs, not ours. It's theirs for the taking, and the fact that they're going to buy it for us makes us little more than hapless bystanders watching the company wield its power. This supposed altruism is little more than a chilling demonstration of how much power this company has.

Some might take my attitude as sour grapes--does this liberal have to badmouth everything? But Wal-Mart is profoundly exasperating to me. What they do is permeated by awful, avaricious policies: anti-union, anti-women, environmentally unsound (through vast clear-cutting developments, runoff pollution, noise/light/traffic pollution, etc.), contributing to massive trade deficits, placing huge tax burdens on local communities...it goes on and on. What's exasperating, though, is that they don't have to do any of this.

Wal-Mart is an enormously profitable company--some would say obscenely profitable. They could allow employee organizing, develop their store sites in community-friendly ways, sell more domestically-made goods, pay decent wages and benefits to their employees, and still make a healthy profit. But like Enron, they seem more concerned with maximizing profit at any cost and expanding scale at an unsustainable rate. Wal-Mart could settle down and become a model of ecological and pro-labor practices--they have the money and clout to do it. But instead they continue to barrel ahead ravenously, and the scale to which they're building their operation will, also like Enron, force them into more and more hurtful business models just to keep them afloat.

Consider one green Wal-Mart development on the drawing board in Vancouver. Take a look at that, and then think about how the Wal-Mart(s) look in your town. Wouldn't this design be vastly better for you and your town? Why isn't this the norm? Why do we let them get away with the mediocrity they offer us? Are cheap (and cheaply made) goods really worth what they do to our local businesses, our streams, our souls?

At the end of the day, there's only one kind of green that Wal-Mart cares about, and that's the green of filthy lucre.

Labels: Environment

I recently went to this year's Bonnaroo festival in Manchester, TN; it was my first one of these big multi-day music festivals, and it was quite an experience. Overall it was a study in contrasts; a logistical mess that made me feel my age, but also a rich palette of musical artistry and unexpected whimsy.

The trip started off presenting its adversarial face first--drenching storms on my way through St. Louis, then hot and muggy weather at the start of the festival. Figuring things would be pretty well organized and smooth-running on the fourth year of the festival, I was a bit appalled at the general sense of disorder that greeted us on our arrival. Unannounced detours, haphazard routing of vehicles, staff who were largely clueless and unaware of the most basic facts about the grounds and facilities, and lots of items in the printed festival guide that simply didn't match reality. Sure, putting on an event like this is an enormous undertaking, but the routine failures at the most basic level were a source of frustration throughout much of the event.

But enough of the bad side--the good side (apart from my considerable good fortune in having such a beautiful companion) was the fantastic music on display. Indeed, there was really too much to see--with an average of four shows going at any one time, sacrifices had to be made (sorry, Allman Brothers & Black Crowes).

The highlight of the whole festival for us was a rousing, utterly fantastic show by Ray LaMontagne. If you haven't already heard this guy (you may have caught his single "Trouble" on the radio and thought you'd accidentally stumbled across an early-70s-soul station), I recommend you run (or click) right out and look him up. No, really, go ahead; I'll be here when you get back. More than simply a soulful, energetic, and expert performance, what made this one so special was the genuineness and magical in-the-moment quality of the performance. The man himself was humble, subdued, and taken aback by the ecstatic response of the packed crowd. Most of the songs were energized by a slight "winging it" quality; shifts in structure, transitions, and endings were often called or materialized in spontaneous interaction (sometimes visual, sometimes telepathic) between Ray and passionately creative upright bassist Chris Thomas, and there were a couple moments where things teetered on the absolute brink of going off the rails, only to be brought back by the quick-thinking musicians. This "un-canned", searching quality made for an exilhirating and unpredictable experience.

Apart from LaMontagne, other highlights of the festival included a rousing and typically brilliant set from Iron & Wine (one of the best, if not the best, groups in America at the moment); an energetic and grin-inducing set from Josh Ritter; intriguing oddness from Mike Gordon (ex-Phish)'s set with the Benevento/Russo Duo duo; Trey Anastasio's take on the James Gang's "Funk #49"; and an arresting blast of sound and light from The Secret Machines. Non-musical highlights included intriguing info on natural building & living from the Sequatchie Valley Institute, a variety of fruit smoothies, a tent that didn't leak in three days of rain, and the luck to be able to share the whole thing with someone who enriched it all.

Labels: Life, Music