In a famous cartoon, blogger extraordinaire Hugh Macleod once wrote: The price of being a sheep is boredom. The price of being a wolf is loneliness. Choose one or the other with great care.

In my family, in an effort to stave off any kind of unpleasantness resulting from resource scarcity, we have committed to purchasing ‘hard goods’ second hand as much as we are able to.

We are also committed to ‘making do’ in circumstances where we can survive without the latest shiny new toy.

So at the risk of belabouring this, I used to have an mp3 player with a radio on it, and enjoyed listening to both. Then the headphone jack went wonky, and I had to replace it – with a used $10 iPod Shuffle (1st gen) from Kijiji.ca. All good, except now I couldn’t listen to Metro Morning or Radio 2 Drive.

Then, while looking for something else entirely, I stumbled across my old Walkman style cassette player. It was gigantic by modern music player standards, but it had a working radio. Ta da! The solution to my 1 ¼ hour GO Train commute problems.

The real problem was, it turns out, that the average household income of a passenger on the Lakeshore line is just about six figures, so iPads, E-readers, and iPhone 4s abound.

Then there’s me with my hooptie-radio.

The first couple of times I pulled it out, I got the look…you know the one you want to give to the scruffy looking teen staring through the window at Christopher’s. The “here, take a couple bucks, get yourself something hot to eat” kind of look. I shrugged it off, but then started hiding it behind me on the seat while I listened.

Then I gave my head a badly needed shake and decided – I’m not the crazy one for not replacing my electronics every ten minutes, or always having to own the latest toy…I’m the sensible one for wanting to make our increasingly scarce resources last just a little longer.

When you work in the ‘office’ world (as opposed to retail, food services or non-profit, where I find people are more tolerant), and you tell people you grow your own veggies, they usually get that, and may do so themselves.

When you tell people you are part of a CSA that operates down the street, most people can wrap their heads around it. Or when you tell people you try to drive as little as possible, and either walk or use transit when you need to get somewhere, they think of you as an ‘enviro-guy’, but it’s understood.

But there’s something about dragging out a 2 lb cassette player on a crowded GO train full of impeccably dressed business people that steps right over society’s clearly drawn line in the sand.

If the main difference between our lives now and the lives we will live in 20 years is going to be the sacrifices we make, where will you draw your line?

Urban Bounty

There has been a lot of conversation in our house recently as to whether or not Hamilton could ever feed itself - not the exurbs, or rural part of Hamilton, but if worse came to worse, could the downtown produce enough of it's own produce to stave off any kind of food security crisis.

Someone (and I forget who) once said that society is nine meals away from anarchy. The first day of not knowing where your next meal will come from is tolerable, the next one worrying, and the third panic inducing. Now keep in mind that with the just-in-time mantra and tiny stockrooms of most grocery outlets there are usually no more than three days of food on any given supermarket's shelves. This is true not only for supermarkets, but for the cities they are in as well.

So I have harped on this topic before, and will do so again - between Hamilton's very active Eat Local community and the farmers right in our midst we are starting to take some shaky steps on the road to food security.

I do want to borrow a page from a blog I am fond of, though, and take a little walk around my neighborhood.

In Strathcona, there is a park about 30 yards from my house with a big community garden. That's a great start. I also have Russ and Backyard Harvest at the end of the street, and around the corner at the local poet's house on Locke. Those are the obvious ones. What about the not so obvious. What about the guy across the street from Russ who has what seems to be a massive tomato patch in his back yard. I also happen to know of another neighbor in Strathcona who is heavily in to intensive, high-yield backyard gardening. All great steps, but sometimes the steps are even more subtle.

One of the most important features of permaculture is the interplanting of fruit and nut trees with your low-rise vegetables. It was about a week ago (while doing my surveys for Hamilton Civic League) that I finally introduced myself to my neighbor with the apple tree in her backyard - apples she considers a nuisance, but that I consider a great source of homebrewed cider. A deal was quickly struck.

One block further than Russ down Peter are two big Serviceberry trees. Out west, we call them Saskatoon Berries, and they make amazing jam. Every year since we've been here, they have been eaten by the birds - in a neighborhood where nobody a) knew what to do with them, or b) had the guts to ask the homeowners for permission to harvest them. Finally, right across York over on the Dundurn castle grounds are the original apple orchards, harvested from time to time by the good folks at Hamilton Fruit Tree.

All of this is to say that predictions of doom and gloom aside, Hamilton is almost uniquely suited in terms of geography, climate, and natural soil quality to provide much of its own food within its own borders. Now we just have to take one teensy little more step and we will be well on our way.