Birthday Bashing
By Amy Vaughn
July 2007
Three car garages lined the street, with short, steep driveways leading to them. Most of the driveways had at least one car in them. There were a few kids with bikes at the house across the street from my sister’s. I was happy to see them but never made eye contact in my hustle to put the milk back in the cooler and get our toddler out of his confines and to a potty—quickly.
I wanted to be happy for my sister and her new few-hundred thousand dollar house. I wanted to be able to appreciate the perfectly placed nick-knacks and store bought art on her walls. I wanted to live in the world she inhabits, where material abundance comes naturally from working at a worthwhile vocation. But all I could see was destruction.
Twenty minutes “outside” of Tucson, in every direction, the developments are still going up. Suggestions of backyards are carefully cordoned off with solid block walls. The houses are packed in tightly. But this is not high density living; these are single family, two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, two eating-area homes. Tons of them. And tons more to come. In the middle of the desert.
I do not know the quantitative impact of clearing the land for these houses, or where the lumber comes from, how far it has to travel. I don’t have facts and figures on the “investment” the city must make in infrastructure to make sure all these houses have electricity and natural gas. I don’t know where those things come from at all. I don’t know how much pavement is being laid every day or how much fuel is used in the building and maintaining process or in getting these people back into town to their jobs and daycares and schools. I can take a guess where their mountains of trash must go. There was a sign for an inert landfill, pointing down a road that was lined with yet more new housing. And I know that their water comes all the way from the California border, where part of the Colorado is shunted off to travel hundreds of miles across the desert in an open concrete channel.
We were there for a birthday, a celebration of young life. All I could think was that the devastation is immense. It isn’t by any means novel. It’s happening all over Arizona; whole huge sections of cities springing up complete with housing, gas stations, supermarkets, churches, schools, dentists—seemingly overnight. The driest part of the country is the fastest growing. I heard on the radio this morning that Phoenix ranks second on the most fun places to live list. “Fun” was defined by the number of attractions listed in the yellow pages. Maybe it ranks so high on entertainment commodities because outdoors in Phoenix for a good half of the year is no fun at all, to put it mildly.
I live here in Arizona too, in the middle of a town growing just as fast, in a house just as big, though not so new. So, while I am not saying I’m without sin in this arena, I need to cast a stone. No longer is the money we earn ours to spend on what we wish without consequences. Religious folk have always seen money as a moral issue. That holds true more so now than ever, I would say. Every dollar we spend supports either destructive or regenerative practices. Every dollar we spend thoughtlessly does harm to ourselves and all those caught in our wake.
Am I jealous? You betcha! I’m jealous that my sister can be so happy, so much less tormented than I am, with everyday decisions about necessities and luxuries. Do I wish I was her? Would I like to forget what I know about the impact our way of life has on the living and on Life? Do I want to work my way back into a spiral of want and debt to have those big and pretty things?
No. Not today anyway.
Copyright © 2007 Amy Vaughn.
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