The Circles of Life, Labyrinths and Lego

In seeking to utilize my membership at the Fort Worth Botanical Garden, a Christmas gift from my sister (thanks Deda!), I discovered this week that there would be a - gasp! - Lego exhibit there all summer, called Sean Kenney’s Nature POP! Made with LEGO® Bricks. Combining things I enjoy - in this case, walking in nature, and Lego art - always seems to be an exponentially exciting endeavor to me. So even though I had  already made plans to go see it with a friend next month, I couldn't wait to go myself, on my first day off. 

While I am often very much a planner in almost all aspects of life, I enjoy both the challenge of spontaneity and the relief of not having to plan certain parts of my life. So I awoke without an alarm and got ready to go to the gardens. I noted that there was a QR code which would likely have more information and a map and the like, but ignored the impulse to check it out. Instead, once I showed my membership ID, I put my headphones in and headed out aimlessly, with the intent to discover as many of the exhibits as I could without the aide of a map.

The first few exhibits were right through the doors. Actually, there were two exhibits just outside the entrance before you even pay admission, as well as a few murals in the Pollinator Garden near the parking lot, which I discovered at the end of my journey. But besides those, once you're past the admission desk and through the doors, there are several bunnies, a couple gardeners and a dog. I took some photos and ventured on. 

I spotted a red blur in flight, and when it stopped in the tree, I stopped to snap a few photos of the cute little bird. The lighting was poor but I was able to enhance it on my phone. I moved on and continued to discover additional statues and murals built of Lego. 

One thing I really loved and appreciated was that the signs had a little blurb about the art and a little blurb about the science. This makes it a memorable and fun learning experience, I suspect, for kids and adults alike even. 

I made my way to the Rose Garden and found a dazzling sculpture there of a rose, fitting. As I carved my way through the curvy paths, I was reminded of my labyrinth experience and reflected on the ever so slight distracting annoyance of having to make decisions about which way to go every few feet. What I loved about the labyrinth was that it made all the decisions for you, you had but to choose to walk it, and the path took care of the rest. That's what promoted the meditative experience I had while walking the labyrinth, albeit too short of lengths for my preference. A trade off, I presume, between the length stretches I could walk here in the Rose Garden versus a labyrinth. If only we could combine the two - having a single path over a larger scale. That's Ikea, I suppose. 

Not knowing where I would find the next exhibit, I ventured into the Japanese Garden and walked a majority of its length, finding no Lego exhibits there. I would later confirm with the map that the Japanese Garden was, indeed, left alone, without a single Lego piece, and just the tranquil peace. 

Outside of the Japanese Garden, I spotted a *POP* of color which I took to be my next lead. I found more sculptures and enjoyed reading the plaques in front of each. 

After more than 2 miles of walking, I decided to start making my way back to the car, when I spotted a red tailed hawk wrangling a recent kill. It spotted me before I saw it, and raised its wing to protect its hunting trophy from me. I think this is one of the funniest behaviors of the animal kingdom. I was reminded of the time a turkey vulture danced around its catch with both wings extended while I walked widely around it to retrieve my car from the street shortly after I moved into my house in Texas. If only the birds of prey knew I have a much better meal awaiting me at home, and that their breakfast was not tempting to me in the least! After photographing it from the distance at which I stopped, it eventually was startled away by unaware kids coming up the path the other way. I tried to follow it to see where it would land in the tree, but it was too fast for me to track it. 

After a quick stop at the restroom and gift shop, I headed out to my car, clocking more pops of color in the Pollinator Garden, as previously mentioned. So I wandered down that path which I usually skip, and found a few more murals that were totally worth seeing. 

Finally, at my car, I pulled up the website from the QR code and checked the map. Verifying the list against my memory, I was happy to see I had found all but one of the exhibits on my own. I chuckled at myself thinking that I was too close to stop now; like Pokemon, I gotta catch 'em all! The last one was not in the gardens proper; it was by the research institute, to which I know of no (other) reason to go. So I drove over to the entrance and popped out of my car for a quick photo. So lesson learned: if you're missing one (the zebra mural), do not remorse, it is easily accessible by car on your way out of the parking area. 

After returning home, I did some organizing of my photos and did some searches online to get more information and data for this post. Interestingly (or annoyingly), some of the articles about the exhibit coming to Fort Worth either reference or feature a panther, which was neither on the map nor in my photos or memory. So there may be another one yet to collect, and other than randomly wandering, looking for blue, I have no plan of figuring out where it is. Adventure! 

About Nature POP!

The exhibit runs from May 22 to September 17, so you have plenty of time to *POP* out to the gardens to see it! This marks artist Sean Kenney's second major showcase at the venue, arriving five years after his "Nature Connects" exhibition occupied the grounds. 

By the Numbers 

There are 18 three dimensional sculptures and 6 large, flat murals. The murals are all the same size and all the same number of pieces -  18,432 each! This may seem expected at first, but actually, the pieces used on the murals are all different shapes and sizes, so one realistically could expect there would be variation in the brick count. The sign for the rabbits indicated they were 1496 pieces, but it was unclear if that was per bunny or for the collection. With 21 bunnies, if the figure was for all of them, that would be an average of 71 pieces per bunny - seems low. If its per bunny, then all the rabbits would be 31,416 pieces all together, so I think it's that. 

I didn't catch the number of pieces for three of the statues (at least one of which did not have a sign from what I could find), and used google search and AI to try to ascertain those estimates, but did not trust the numbers, so I used my own estimates for those three. Based on those estimates, the pieces stated for the others, and my assumption about the rabbits, I calculated just under 889,415 Lego pieces, which confirms the claim that there are over 800,000 pieces used in the total exhibit. At an average retail price of $0.13, that would be $115k worth of Lego! Although, the artist likely got a wholesale price closer to 6 cents per brick, or about $53k. 

The Next Stops: Cities Scheduled After Fort Worth

This is the 14th stop on the tour. After September 17th, once the installations are carefully disassembled, packed into customized, foam-lined logistics crates, and loaded onto freight trucks at the end of the summer, they are booked to head to the following locations:

    Omaha, NE (Scheduled to open January 16, 2027)
    Winchester, VA (Scheduled to open May 27, 2028)

If you want to have a little fun, try either the Scavenger Hunt or Quiz I've created, here: 

Here is the map if you want to have a more directed experience. 

 

And here is my spreadsheet of the piece count.

Ban the Wicked

As I was driving to see Wicked the musical, I passed a car that said, "Ban idiots, not guns." And it got me thinking, I get what the person is probably saying. Except that many people who commit gun crimes in America are actually not idiots necessarily, some of them have very high IQs and are very smart, but angry. Now, he might have been talking about the people who leave their guns accessible to children, who bring them to schools. Things like that that would be idiotic, I would agree, let's ban those people. And yes, people should be more responsible with their guns. But I've been thinking a lot about the root of crime lately. Specifically, that I don't think most criminals are inherently evil; they're not committing crimes just for the sake of doing bad. I believe most criminals are probably acting out of desperation. They have a problem that they can't figure out how to solve the "right way" and the systems that we've created around them make it difficult for them to improve their situation, and so they resort to crime in order to resolve those issues. It doesn't make the crime "right;" I'm not condoning it. And obviously people are complex, and there will be some people who do have Machiavellian tendencies that are maybe lumped under the category of evil. But most people, I suspect, aren't motivated to do wrong because of a pure internal desire to hurt and destroy. 

I recently watched a 2015 documentary called, "Where to Invade Next." It was interesting! Michael Moore was traveling around Europe "taking" best practices and policies that are, honestly, pretty novel, and in some cases, rather shocking to the American mindset. I think of myself as a pretty open minded person and even I struggled with the subversion of the prison system and other concepts. Specifically, in Norway where, the people who are "locked up" for crimes have a key to their homes. It's not a cell. It's more like a neighborhood to play house in and be rehabilitated. They're allowed to have sharp knives in their kitchens to cook fresh meals. They are allowed a lot of freedom to pursue various activities. The country's prison guards treat their prisoners very well and it's more of a rehab and a place to learn, "Hey, here's how to be a good neighbor" rather than treating them like lesser than humans. And the question is, does it work? And in Norway, it does. They have less repeat offenders and they have less crime overall. So somehow the threat of having to go into a more comfortable prison system allows that country to keep their crime rates at bay. They also allow their ex-convicts to vote, which is something that we don't do in America. And that's kind of stripping the human rights, making them lesser humans in some ways. And maybe that reduces the anger for would-be repeat criminals: the culture and the politics which American ex-convicts see, specifically, difficulties in finding a job and not letting them have voting rights, is kind of reinforcing that the only thing that they can do is act out on it and commit crimes to make their voice heard and get what they need. 

Anyways, back to the main crux of my topic today. I wonder if the thought about implementing universal basic income, UBI - lifting people up using automation, using AI - is the path forward, instead of allowing people to have increasingly more menial jobs or no jobs. If we can finally use technology to make our lives happier, healthier, easier, I think there would be less crime. I don't profess that I know the answer; I don't know how to make that happen exactly. But I think what we're doing with the justice system and gun laws and the like may be attacking the wrong problem. We really need to be looking at why these people are involved in crime to begin with. What's the root cause of why they are resorting to a crime?

And I wonder if the Norway prison system would work here. And truthfully I don't think it would. I don't think we could copy it over and we instantly start getting less repeat offenders. Send our criminals to neighborly rehab and we lower crime - I don't think that's going to work in America, not by itself. So then I started thinking about why does it work in Norway and why wouldn't it be able to work here in the US. And I think the answer is, you have to look at the people of Norway or the Nordic culture more broadly. They are content in a very cold environment. The Danish have what they call Hygge which is when it's so cold outside that you just kind of bundle up and have a cozy time inside with your family and friends. Norway has a form of this called koselig. That's a form of being content in a cold climate. Living in, maybe what some might consider a miserable situation, and I don't think Americans do enough of that. I think we are raised to want more. We are raised to expect more. We are raised to challenge the norms. 

And I think that's it's a love / hate kind of thing, right? It's a two-sided sword. We're brilliant in America: Hollywood and pop culture / pop music, inventions, creativity, innovation. We brought the internet to the world. We have all these things, and I think it's because of that audacity, so it's kind of like you have to pick your poison, because the Scandinavians aren't rolling out a ton of innovations everyday. They're contentedness maybe doesn't create the same kind of drive; it doesn't fuel that spark for creativity that comes from the audacity to be discontented. So we have to ask ourselves, is this the America that we want? Though it's the America that's audacious and not satisfied with the status quo that's what's gotten us here. That's the super power of America - it makes us creative and innovative, but unhappy with the cozy mundane. Is that the America that we want in the future? Those criminals aren't necessarily innovators; they're not productively generating GDP for the country or anything like that, but they are being audacious and challenging the norms (/laws) in their own ways, right? 

So I think that's why the Norway prison system wouldn't work here, because the Norway system is built on the foundation of contentedness. So they can say, "You know man, you really messed up. We're going to take away your koselig. We're going to take away your ability to be content at home with family, and we're going to teach you how to be a better, more appreciative person in a different environment." Whereas Americans are not taught to be content to start with or expected to settle for staying indoors when it's too cold to go out. If we tried to implement the Norwegian prison system, the criminals or would-be criminals would say, "Oh yeah, cheating the system man, this is this is golden. I should commit crimes more often!" So our way of punishing instead of lifting criminals up is our reaction to people that stepped too far out of line. They were taught to be audacious but they were TOO audacious - they didn't follow the laws that we set down and that's not okay. And I think that's why we have such a big military, right? We have a huge military industrial complex and a full complement of military services. We're audacious, but you better not be more audacious than us or go against our beliefs, because we got this huge military. It's like we're policing and imprisoning the world, or at least any group that is too audacious and out of line as defined by our standards. We have to have a big military because we believe that we're right and if anybody dares to think otherwise we need to punish them. So US prisons are a microcosm of our military positioning within the world. Really, if you think about it that way, like we don't care if we're committing crimes against nations if we believe they've wronged us is the same as we don't mind locking up criminals. 

So what do we do differently? And again, this is where I do not have all the answers. There's probably research that a lot of thoughts you know that I'm missing on here, but I think we really need to be focusing our attention, not on the punishment of the crime but on the root cause of the desperation. And again, there's going to be a subset of people that are just going to choose to hurt just for the sake of hurting or they're choosing to hurt because it makes them happier. But the vast majority of criminals, I think, are acting out because they're angry. They're desperate. They're not finding their way in life. They're not doing well in life, and so they're acting in a way that they think will get them what they want. If we want to address that, it's not about gun regulation. It's not about stricter punishments or even about our prison system and making it a happier place. I think it's about making our society more aligned with how we can help the people that are at the bottom, or at the most desperate places and I think it's about how we need to align on common goals and values. I know that's tough because we have a freedom of religion and a lot of diverse people that live here in the US and that's part of the goodness in some sense. But on the other hand, we don't have the common value of koselig like the Norwegians and we can't operate from a place of, "Well, I have different values than you so therefore I can choose to break the law." We have to find some way to get behind one set of values and laws, and make the laws align with the values and then enable people to be able to live those ways.

The irony of having these thoughts right now as I'm on my way to see the musical, Wicked, is that Wicked, is at its core, about a "criminal" who was misunderstood. And on that note, "Ahhh AHHH AHHH ahhhhh!"

Death in Texas: Thoughts While Driving to Tyler

Why am I driving in Tyler, Texas today? It's a long story. But it's something I felt like I needed to do today. On my way though, I've seen such an interesting juxtaposition of Texas. As I rounded just the very first clover entrance to the freeway, I noticed two cop cars with their lights on that were parked and I may have rubber necked just a touch trying to figure out what they were there for. I looked down into the middle of the clover and saw that there was an overturned car down there, so I guess now we know. Later, as I was driving past a cemetery, I happened to glimpse a casket in the process of being towed and lowered into a grave. I stopped at a gas station to fuel up and to get a snack, and there were four Las Vegas style slot machine arcade games. A gentleman was sitting at one of the games; he looked like he had kind of given up on life, or maybe was really hopeful that this would change his life. Texas just feels so depressing sometimes. And it makes me wonder what we're even doing on this Earth with our lives. 

One of the billboards I saw repeated a few times was a Christian billboard with children's wooden alphabet blocks showing A-B-C, and it was something like A: admit your sins and B: believe in Christ and C: something else. I don't know, whatever, but it's just so funny to me to think of Christians thinking that that's a good idea. They're so in their own belief system that they don't understand that that doesn't resonate with non-Christians. If you're a believer, you might think that's such a clever idea to spread the message on billboards - brilliant! But if you're not a believer, that simple ABC thing is actually demeaning or just stupid and laughable. It prompted me to later look up if there were statistics on people converting to Christianity as a result of a billboard speaking to them. I found that, of course, there is a low conversation rate, but more interesting or maybe appalling is that the Christians funding it don't actually seek to convert - the messaging is more about reconfirming their own beliefs for their club of believers, presumably providing comfort in moments of need or doubt. So they're literally admitting that not only is the tactic ineffective to actually spreading the message but that they put them up so they can feel good about the echo chamber they create. It's almost like they're buying faith. 

There's so much information overload in the world and I I wonder if that makes us believe whatever we want to believe because we can't believe everything we read. So instead of being discerning readers, skilled in applying the scientific principles, we're merely choosing to read the stuff and believe the stuff that resonates with our own beliefs. Instead of a healthy skepticism, we outright reject anything that doesn't reinforce our chosen beliefs. Road rage largely comes from everybody thinking they're right, and that other driver is an idiot. They've been wronged, regardless of what the other person is trying to do or doing or going through.

I do a lot of traveling out of DFW, and I've noticed the airport's water bottle refill stations are almost always red for the filter needing to be replaced. I tried the water once from a filter in that status and it was terrible. This is not a problem at any other airport I frequent. Isn't it just so Texas to reject the maintenance of water filters to save on plastic bottles? Like, that shouldn't be a political thing but, yet, it somehow makes sense. Republicans don't believe in global warming or environmental sustainability, so therefore water is bad at DFW airport. Water! The stuff of life! Are ya'll okay? (She said ironically, because she refuses to adopt the local contraction in earnest.) 

And so we've come full circle: death, salvation, echo chambers, and the stuff of life, the lack of which is death. Texas!  

Then to Now: Never Alone

Every life has its own 'viewfinder'—a set of early scenes that play on a loop in the back of our minds. This series, Then to Now, is my personal archive of my own core memories. By documenting these childhood stories, I’m looking for the threads that shaped my perspective, explored through the lens of the present. One memory at a time, I’m tracing the line from these foundational flickers to how they still develop in the person I am today.

The exact setting or event is vague to me - it must have been a high school band trip I think - or junior high? Maybe a choir thing? I don't know, the cast of characters were all pretty similar in my life through all the musical pursuits I filled my life with in lieu of performing well academically. 

I think my "boyfriend" Brian had just broken up with me, after I learned he had "cheated" on me by kissing another girl. It was all very dramatic and I was devastated as a young, awkward, love-struck dummy would be. Back then, I think I had some mental and emotional issues that were quite repressed, and my social anxiety had not yet bubbled up to my awareness. I wouldn't say I was clinically depressed because, as I understand it, people with depression don't have such logical views of their dark thoughts as I did - I contemplated suicide but was easily able to dismiss it as illogical for resolving my issues and something that seemed like all too much effort to bother with. 

Anyways, the scene that formed a "core memory" and a promise that I'd perpetually keep to myself started in the girl's bathroom, with me in tears. I remember feeling so very alone, and it was that utter loneliness that really brought me down. It wasn't the break up, it was the crushing loneliness. Maybe more precisely, the unworthiness of others' attention. 

Where were my friends? Who were my friends then? I can't even recall. But two girls whom I barely knew ended up being the ones comforting me. One was named Suzanne, I'm pretty sure, and she was the one who had kissed my now "ex." She should have been my mortal enemy or whatever, but I suppose I've never been one to blame the person someone cheats with, it's the cheater that's the problem, always, in my book. I'm not sure though if she felt guilt about the situation and that's why she was comforting me, or if she was just genuinely a nice person who happened to see me in my emotional breakdown. Either way, her and her friend put their arms around me and said nice things to me, even joking about how Brian was a crappy boyfriend anyways, who needs him? I've always found humor is incredibly helpful when I'm terribly sad, and this time was no exception. 

The two girls, whom I was barely acquainted with, comforted me and helped me work through all the emotions. And though I had started by feeling lonely, and they weren't the closest of friends, a realization dawned on me in that moment that even when we think we're alone, there is always someone who can be there for us. 

I silently made a promise to myself that I would never forget that lesson. And while the details have become fuzzy over the years, I've recalled that lesson time and time again when I felt alone. "You are never alone," I would assure myself. And that reminder would be enough to push myself from catastrophizing to thinking about who I could reach out to. And invariably, the people to whom I've reached out have always come through in one way or another, reinforcing that I was right. 

I know my brain works in a way that allows me to keep this promise, and I don't take that for granted. But as I look back from now, I realize that keeping the promise to myself wasn't the end of the lesson. The real work is being the Suzanne in someone else's moment of need—the unexpected person who shows up just in time to prove wrong the lies we all tell ourselves sometimes.

Awe: Unscreened

Kauai is known as the Garden Isle for its lush greenery, and the name is well deserved at that. But the feature that has continually impressed me the most is the scale and angles of the mountains that rise from the middle of the island. Any view from any angle is an awe-inspiring moment which cannot adequately be captured on photos. I still try, of course, on an ongoing basis. But this beauty cannot be captured on a screen. It needs to be felt and seen with no filters, or at least through a car (or helicopter) window and nothing else.

It's the same feeling I've felt often when hiking around Yosemite, and once as I drove to a peak near Big Bend. The monolithic heights, and sheer drop of the cliffs, have to be seen to be understood and appreciated fully.

It made me wonder if the meta augmented reality world promised in sci-fi that feels to be nearing nonfiction could ever, even with significant advances in technology, provide the same feeling, and inspire the same awe, as the real thing. I love technologies and futurism, but of accomplishing this feat, I am skeptical.

To the contrary, I believe the more plugged in to a technologically easier, comfortable, and productive life we are, the greater the need will be to travel to places like this and feel the wonder irl. When so much is possible through CGI and generative AI, the wonder is necessarily lessened as we are desensitized and trained to be skeptical of the images. Only when you are certain you can believe your eyes and behold the beauty of nature in its unedited, imperfect and organically generated form, and you feel those feels.

Perhaps the worst part is that our needs for these genuine, screenless experiences rise, so will the devastation of the natural beauty in service of our comfort, unsustainable consumption of resources and AI power needs, etc. Putting aside morality, it would be a simple logical tradeoff if we could simply replace the fading beauty with equally mesmerizing experiences, but I just don't think we can. 

There is a profound comfort in standing before something that wasn't built for me, wasn't designed for a user experience, and doesn't care if I’m looking. That indifference is exactly what makes it real. If we lose the sheer, terrifying scale of a cliffside to power the servers that mimic it, we haven't just lost a landscape—we’ve lost the ability to feel the very awe
we were trying to digitize.

Perhaps the future isn't about choosing between the digital and the natural, but about treating these real-world vistas as sacred sites of sensory truth. Protecting these places is a form of protecting our own humanity.

 

Touch Water

The kids these days say they need to "touch grass" which is a new fangled way of saying what ancient people knew - that there is something special, even magical, about getting into nature and experiencing the beauty of plants and animals and landscapes.

I'm deathly allergic to many plants, and especially grass, so touch grass doesn't resonate with me. But when I see an ocean, I can't wait to get my feet into it. I love swimming and snorkeling, too, and boating and cruising, but even if I am without a swimsuit, I am lured to the waters edge to get my feet in, at least. That's my version of touch grass. 

Unfortunately there's not a lot of ocean in Texas, and zero near Fort Worth. So escaping to Hawaii is always a desire, despite the long flight and expense (and I tend to make the latter worse to ease the former vis-a-vis upgrading to first class for the trip). 

I arrived last night on an island new to me - Kauai. It had been my goal to get here ever since I learned I could take a helicopter tour to the waterfalls in Jurassic Park, and I booked the trip while on my solo writing and research trip on Astoria, Oregon, as a way to keep the independent sovereign vibes going. Work has been incredibly busy and stressful on a more personal level - dealing with personnel issues and BS office politics,my least favorite hassles, and this trip couldn't come soon enough. Disconnecting and decompressing is often a struggle for me, and it is especially true today. The trip here was longer than it needed to be due to delays, and it honestly wore me out, although I did manage to read in entirety two books by Andrew Yang! 

After stopping at Target near the airport and then making the trek to the hotel that took close to an hour, during which my energy hit a wall, I crashed hard in bed last night. This morning, I woke up with the threat of a migraine, and the Sunday brunch at the hotel restaurant sounded like exactly what I needed to recharge. I don't usually eat a big breakfast but since I hadn't eaten in several hours before bed last night, I was famished. 

 

While getting ready, I caught a glimpse out my window of two Nene's waddling across my patio. I grabbed my phone and rushed to the door to take a few photos of these rare, endangered birds found only here in Hawaii. A tuxedo cat also graced my patio. Turns out, I needn't have hurried because the Nene's population has apparently made a strong comeback due to the protections put in place for them and they were all over the hotel property! As I ate breakfast on the lanai, several nenes were hanging out by the pool and a mama chicken and her little chicks were wandering around the lanai hunting for charity from the guests. A red-headed cardinal daringly landed on my table and would have eaten right off my plate had I not shooed him away just inches before he got it. He snagged some eggs from the guest at the table next to me, which attracted a flutter of birds. Meanwhile, I watched with amusement as a staff member took a couple pictures of the crowd of Nenes bathing in the pool before attempting to shepherd them away. He got a bunch of them through the beach loungers, towards the open grassy field, before they darted around the chairs and escaped back towards the pool. He quickly turned around and met them on the other side, trying to get between them and the pool, but one by one, they bravely ran past him and he had to start all over again. 

As I paid my bill, I noticed it was time for the feeding at the koi pond, so I found a cozy spot on a beach lounger overlooking the pond and watched as the kids fed the fish for a few minutes. I walked around the hotel property and tried to make it to the beach proclaimed by the "public beach access" but it looked like a muddy mess and I wasn't convinced it would be worth it. So I got in my car, put the top down (at risk, with the overcast sky) and went for a drive. 

On my way to a lookout, I clocked many Nene crossing signs, both formal and improvised, and had the perfect view of five or six flying just above the road. A short distance later there were a huge group of them on the side of the road. 

The lookout was pretty but a bit crowded. I drove down the road in search of a beach but the connection here is bad an I ended in a cul-de-sac so I decided to stop and take in the nature. As I am parked writing this, a fully red cardinal landed on my mirror for a split second before being startled likely by my head movement to look at it. What a cutie, though! I also heard, among the cock-a-doodle-doo's of the chickens and the squeaky songs of some other birds, and knocking sound perhaps of a woodpecker, but it only went off a few times before I stopped hearing it. It's raining now, and that is bringing down my spirits a bit, but I wanted to jot down some thoughts of the special moments and the joy I have in seeing these animals and the beauty of the flowers, so many seem absolutely perfect. I think that's what I need is just nature's perfect and hilarious unexpected wild animals. Enjoying and appreciating them is a special treat, and one I desperately needed. 

I find it funny that so many of my Life List items - which should generally be something of a once in a lifetime event - have turned into a normal, frequent thing. The most predominant example that comes to mind is seeing a show on Broadway. My sister and I saw Wicked when we were in NYC for a wedding. Check! I assumed that was pretty much done. It was awesome! And I'm so grateful we got to do that. Then my boyfriend at the time, Rick, and I planned a trip to NYC. As a gift to me, he wanted to get me tickets to a musical but because he's not really into musicals, he chose the one he felt was most approachable - Wicked. So I saw it on Broadway again. I definitely didn't mind! Later in life, while I was dating Jaiman, we made the tough decision to move to Connecticut with my job. The biggest benefit of living there was the proximity to NYC, and especially Broadway, and we made the most of it. In the year we lived there, we went to more than 10 Broadway shows, including Hamilton (twice), and a handful of off-Broadway hits as well (Spamilton s hilarious!). Moving away didn't end our Broadway attendance. Shortly after we moved, I learned that an alum of my high school whom I vaguely knew was preforming in Chicago! I figured I'd have to go see him sometime. Then COVID happened and I followed his story on social media about how, with the theaters closed, he moved back in with his parents. I bought cookies from him. When Broadway reopened post-pandemic, I wasn't going to procrastinate. He shared dates he'd be performing and I booked a trip. Never mind that it was in January, arguably the worst time to venture to NYC, we were going! We made it in just before a snow storm, and upon landing learned our departing flight was cancelled and we had to rebook for later. Ah well, guess we'll add another show to our trip! We used the opportunity to go to Hadestown. So a once in a lifetime Life List things had been done in spades. 

I'm drawing that parallel to this trip, because another life list thing was too photograph an endangered species. As we were hiking Haleakala on Maui a few years ago, my nephew, David, and I spotted the endangered Nene. Our photos were blurry but it was definitely then! Check! Now to be on this island and see so many Nenes and take literally dozens of pictures of different ones - it's almost ordinary if I didn't know how extraordinary it actually is. 

Let me never take from granted this extraordinary life, and let me perpetually grateful for this extraordinary world. 

Oh, and I did finally touch water.

Unpaid Work

Between a demanding full-time job, taking classes, and a schedule packed with dance classes and travel, my "free" time is a precious commodity. As a woman living alone, there is a very specific kind of mental load that comes with maintaining a home. You look at a garage that needs a good sweep or a bin of tangled Christmas lights and you have to prioritize; you simply don’t have the physical bandwidth—or the desire—to spend your Saturday on a ladder in the fickle Texas weather among the bugs.

In a perfect world, I’d pay the kid down the street $40 to knock it out in an hour. It’s a win-win: I get a functional garage and a free afternoon for dance, and they get some extra spending money. But in 2026, I don't even know where to start.

In his latest book, Hey Yang, Where’s My Thousand Bucks?, Andrew Yang revisits an idea he’s championed before: Social Credits (or Time Banking). It’s a system where you trade an hour of your time for a "credit" you can spend on someone else’s hour.

Yang isn’t the only one who has thought this way. He draws a parallel to Edgar Cahn's core philosophy was built on Co-Production. He argued that the professional economy (doctors, lawyers, teachers) is only the tip of the iceberg. The "non-market" economy—the work of being a neighbor, a parent, and a citizen—is what actually keeps society afloat.

Cahn’s solution was the Time Dollar: a currency where one hour always equals one hour, regardless of whether you’re providing legal advice or weeding a garden. While the intent is noble, it misses a fundamental truth about how we actually live.

The Friction of the "Time Bank"

The problem with a separate social currency, as Cahn proposed and Yang echoes, is that it creates a double valuation headache. When you're already juggling a professional consulting career and a personal life, the last thing you want is a second "checkbook" to balance. If the "bank" doesn't have exactly what you need (like a plumber when your sink is geysering), those credits sit idle. Money was invented to solve this exact "coincidence of wants" problem.

As an optimistic futurist, I believe the solution isn't a new currency; it’s a better architecture to utilize the currency we already have.

The Rover Blueprint: Normalizing Neighbor Labor

We already have a successful model for this: Dog walking apps. Platforms like Rover succeeded because they "normalized" non-professionals. You aren't hiring a massive kennel facility; you’re hiring a neighbor who likes dogs. This model provides exactly what a "Time Bank" seeks—community trust and lower costs—but it keeps the efficiency of the dollar. We should be using this for *everything*.

The GrowUnity Lesson: Lowering the Barrier

Years ago, I worked on a project called GrowUnity. The platform grew out of the idea of solving to complementary demands. It would connect neighbors who had a surplus of fruit (and the rotting-pest-problem that comes with it) with neighbors who wanted to pick it for a small fee.

The idea won Startup Weekend because it solved a specific local inefficiency. Unfortunately, the team dissolved to pursue other career objectives. 

Today, we see iterations of this in apps like FruitNeighbor, but we haven't quite mastered the "micro-labor" side. Why can't I find a "Rover for Chores"?

If I need a pro, I use Thumbtack. But by the time a contractor pays their platform fees and insurance, they have to charge professional rates. You aren't getting a local kid to sweep your garage for $40 on Thumbtack.

Platform	Best For...	How it Works
FruitNeighbor	GrowUnity idea	Specifically for sharing excess backyard produce. It maps local "over-growers" and lets neighbors claim/pick fruit to reduce waste.
Falling Fruit	Urban Foraging	A massive, community-run map of public and private (shared) fruit trees and edibles.
Nextdoor "For Sale & Free"	General Neighbor Help	The "Bounty" section is often used for exactly what you described: "Will pay $50 for someone to help me put up lights."
Taskrabbit (Micro-Tasks)	The "Kid next door" substitute	While it’s become more professional, you can still filter for "General Labor" to find non-pros for simple tasks like garage sweeping.

Future Iterations: The "Protopian" Neighborhood

What we’re missing is a High-Traffic Localized Bidding Forum—a hyper-local eBay for neighborly help.

The Tasks: Hanging lights, sweeping the garage, or picking the oranges from the tree in the backyard.

The Bidding: Instead of fixed professional rates, neighbors bid on what the help is worth to them.

The Portability: If a kid has a 5-star rating for walking dogs, that trust should carry over to hanging my Christmas lights.

By 2028, we shouldn't need a complex social credit score or a "Time Dollar" to help each other out. The fix is using the tech stack of 2026—AI-driven routing and frictionless micro-payments—to let us trade with our neighbors as easily as we book a flight for our next trip.

If we lower the "bureaucracy of help," we don't just get cleaner garages. We get back our Saturdays for the things that actually move us.