why they cover the potatoes
and other revelations
Today while I was washing dishes, I heard a buzzing noise behind me and turned around to find that the handheld milk frother had turned on of its own accord. It proceeded to vibrate itself off the edge of the table and clatter to the floor—still frothing away—before I comprehended what was happening and rushed to pick it up and push the button.
This would be the moment where I tell you what that incident meant, but all I really have to say is that it reminded me of how objects have agency, or at least they have their own paths, regardless of how much control we believe we exert over them.
Sometimes I tell people that I’m “interested in the repair economy.” What I actually mean is that I believe in taking care of objects, which may well be a way of affording them subjectivity.
To this end I’d like to host a video workshop about how to darn socks. Yes, there are instructions all over the internet for this skill, but if you’d like to learn virtually from me (or use the “workshop” time to tackle some other craft project), email me!
Art by Jeremy Collins
I’m cautiously optimistic about incoming UM Dean of the College of Humanities and Sciences Larry Hufford, a botanist whose research areas include Bears Ears National Monument.
A music video worth watching for the choreography, color palette, and bird-flipping glee: “Toy” by Netta
A few weeks ago I learned why they cover all the potatoes with burlap at the grocery store at night: potatoes start to photosynthesize when exposed to light, and with enough light will begin to turn green. My personal experience with potato greening led me to discover Ask Dr. Potato, a real resource made available by the Idaho Potato Commission. You can chat with Spuddy. Seriously, go look.
A beautiful collective art endeavor: homemade medals for the Order of Everyday Humans.
If you’re someone who doesn’t need their $1200 from the IRS (or if you don’t need all of it), here are some ways to take care of your future self or distribute the funds to those who could use them sooner:
In anticipation of the time when we’ll be able to attend non-essential appointments, consider investing in a certificate for a massage. Our society doesn’t create much space for prolonged touch in non-sexual/romantic contexts, but this kind of intimacy can be very healing and meaningful, especially after a period rife with unusual sources of stress. For those of you who live in Missoula, Good Medicine Missoula is offering discounts on gift cards and packages for both massage and acupuncture. (Full disclosure: I’ve been going to community acupuncture there for several months and have had a good experience; I’ve never had a massage there but decided to take this opportunity to try one for a lower price.)
In terms of donations, I’m conceptually attracted to the idea of taking money from the federal government and funneling it to an indigenous group, such as Real Rent Duwamish. Some people consider sending them funds a form of reparations; or you can think of it as paying rent to the indigenous people on whose land you live (you may want to pick a tribe closer to where you live, but as the Duwamish will probably never get Seattle back, I’d say they’re as good a tribe as any to share with.)
According to my roommate via the New York Times (read here), one of the best ways to save lives right now is to donate to groups that bail people out of jail. The article recommends the Bail Project and the National Bail Network.
I saw Rachel Cargle speak at the Black Solidarity Summit on campus earlier this year. She talked about how her white-people-facing work (most of her audience is white women who want to be less racist) raises money for her community. Her foundation provides 4-8 sessions of free therapy to an annual cohort of black women and girls.
The US Postal Service may be threatened by a) financial repercussions of COVID-19 and b) Our Angry Cheeto. The internet exploded with calls to buy stamps to support this institution. Clearly this outcry had an effect, because the USPS online shop stopped working for a bit, and even now the delivery time is delayed. Also, the dragon stamps that were available a couple weeks ago are no longer listed on the website. Even with that initial success, I’d still encourage you to both write more letters and to buy some stamps—the Lunar New Year ones are pretty sweet.
A friend recently introduced me to the writer and artist Sarah Mirk, who decided to make a zine a day for a year (such as the one pictured above).
Good news: A Montana judge canceled an important permit for Keystone XL this week. Bad news: this ruling does not affect the pipeline construction that conveniently began days before Governor Bullock issued Montana’s stay-at-home order(s).
It remains important to call your representatives to express dissatisfaction with pipeline construction. In the event you’re feeling worried about the hypocrisy of such a phone call, remember these words from Matt Hern and Am Johal:
“The argument that if we participate in any oil-burning or ever use a petro-product we are then ineligible to critique the oil industry is absurd troll-speak.”
Even if you do not live in a state through which Keystone XL would pass, please consider calling and writing to your representatives about the EPA’s (I daresay) insidious decision to decrease enforcement of various environmental regulations, supposedly to benefit the economy, while public health officials are tied up with coronavirus concerns. Perhaps most concerning is that the memo regarding this decision did not list an end date for the rollback.
One of the staff people in Senator Tester’s DC office told me that they read all of the Montana newspapers and that writing letters to the editor is a way to be heard for longer than a phone call. My roommate wrote one to the Missoulian about the EPA situation. We both want to encourage our friends, especially the writers, to take advantage of this avenue of communication with elected officials.
Lastly, I believe gratitude can be an antidote for consumption, but this article in the Baffler was a powerful reminder of how gratitude as it’s peddled to the masses can keep us from demanding what we deserve. What we deserve, in this case, being basic human rights.
Until next time—
Abby