shifting signifiers: solutions without spending (though a little late, now that my Christmas shopping is done)

Eighteen days after "Buy Nothing Day" and seventeen days through the season of spending that makes people hate Christmas, I finally bottomed out today on gift-giving excitement, confidence, and money. When I named this blog, the "poor" part was because I had initially thought of my approach toward household management as based upon my very limited budget, but that isn't entirely true. What may be more difficult for me to admit than being 'limited' in the budget category is that I am actually quite frugal (though I am 100% sure my partner would disagree now that we've just had the "I'm out of money early" discussion). The budget part is a fluid, ever-changing condition, but the frugality is probably permanent. Even when the budget was not so limited I always searched for a bargain, from shoes to food to housing. It's not just that I was raised that way, but I like it.
Publicly, I feel a sense of discomfiture in being what I'd like to call a "frugalite". It may be my generation and all the credit that was (until of late) thrown at us with reckless abandon (why they hell wouldn't you buy what you can "afford"?). But as Americans I believe we have--by and large--lost the ability to solve problems without spending money. We seem to assume that making positive changes necessarily means difficulty, discomfort and more money. Strangely enough, it usually doesn't, and even more strangely, when many decide to make a change they make the most expensive one.
From an environmental standpoint, this can mean buying yourself a Prius or a flex-fuel car, purchasing carbon-offsets, or--for hell's sake--a plastic bag drying rack. There is surprisingly little encouragement in this time of 'green living' being so hip, to focus our efforts on reducing our consumption rather than just consuming 'better'. So, for example, instead of boosting our economy with a new car loan for that friendly hybrid, we could further consider taking part in a local ride-share program or investing in a public transport pass. Instead of buying carbon-offsets, figure out what your actual carbon footprint is and start by making simple choices to cut away at the excess.
The age of disposability in which we live has made it cheaper (question, though, in what sense of the word) to buy a new cell phone, computer or car than fix the one we own when problems arise. I realize that things break down and eventually do need replacing, but as consumers we are urged and encouraged to dispose of and replace, without consideration of repair. Unlike the distant production lines where most of our products now come from, local small businesses support much of our repair needs. When the car, computer or t.v. does die, find the best means of disposal--be it donation or recycling.
It's kind of a fun, un-cool place to live, turning old doors into needed desks, soup cans into kid's art containers, wasted fruit into leather, garbage to compost. I'm by no means the Queen of Recycling. In fact, I'd rather be the Queen of Reusing. But the fun is in realizing that the solution to a need may not be connected by your bank account.
p.s. Please don't take this post to mean that I think one shouldn't donate to charities.

Check out Adbusters Buy Nothing Day campaign:

"Suddenly, we ran out of money and, to avoid collapse, we quickly pumped liquidity back into the system. But behind our financial crisis a much more ominous crisis looms: we are running out of nature… fish, forests, fresh water, minerals, soil. What are we going to do when supplies of these vital resources run low?

There’s only one way to avoid the collapse of this human experiment of ours on Planet Earth: we have to consume less.

It will take a massive mindshift. You can start the ball rolling by buying nothing on November 28th. Then celebrate Christmas differently this year, and make a New Year’s resolution to change your lifestyle in 2009."

shifting signifiers.

In my memory, the signifier came into itself when I was a teen and sitting in the passenger's seat of a boys car.
It is late, or curfew, and the night is ending--almost. If he let the car idle I knew that meant a quick "Bye!" and it's my signal to jump out and head to my front door. But, if he kills the engine, that's a clear sign to stay clear of the door handle because, well, we could be there awhile.
Though I haven't been in the passenger's seat of teen dating in a very long time, the signifier of an engine turning off is no less relevant today. Dropping a friend off after girl's night and killing the engine just to finish the thirty seconds of conversation that remain might make her feel a little strange and curious, as though I'm trying to extend the night beyond conversations end.
Here is where I want a change.
As I hope you already know, ten seconds of idling consumes more gasoline than turning off and starting your engine does. With this fact, killing the engine to avoid idling over ten seconds becomes beneficial in two ways. One, you are conserving gasoline and two, curbing unnecessary emissions.
How many moments of unnecessary idling do I go through in a week? This thought sprang on me recently and I have seen the answer clearly, since. Many.
Dropping off/picking up my dry cleaning, drive through coffee, stopping to drop something off at a friend's house, the occasions are often. Sitting at stop lights is the most obvious offender, as pedestrian crossing meters count the seconds down in my peripheral.
The potential down side of getting a new starter in my car slightly sooner than later is nothing as I look over the blanket of pollution covering my beautiful city and filling my child's lungs. Let's quit calling it 'haze' and 'smog' and call it what it is: toxic pollution, and the number one contributor in the Salt Lake Valley is OUR CARS.
So, the next time your dropping a friend off after a night out, consider turning the key while you wrap up the conversation. At worst, you might accidentally get some action.
Check out Idle Free Utah for more info.

My buddy English sent me a great article examining the Ad Council's "Keep America Beautiful" campaign as it shifted American's focus away from the question of whether disposable packaging should exist, to simply how to 'properly' dispose of it, thus ushering in the age of disposable everything.
here's the gist:

"The packaging industry justifies disposables as a response to consumer
demand: buyers wanted convenience; packagers simply provided it. But
that’s not exactly true. Consumers had to be trained to be wasteful.
Part of this re-education involved forestalling any debate over the
wisdom of creating disposables in the first place, replacing it with an
emphasis on “proper” disposal. Keep America Beautiful led this
refocusing on the symptoms rather than the system....At the same time,
the container industry lobbied hard behind the scenes. In 1957, with
little fanfare, Vermont’s senate caved to the pressure and declined to
renew its reusable bottle law. In 1960, the year Keep America Beautiful
teamed up with the Ad Council, disposables delivered just 3 percent of
the soft-drink market. By 1966, it was 12 percent, and growing fast. As
was the Ad Council. By then it was the world’s biggest advertiser."