Turf Wars, again; Transients at the Top

After a futile attempt yesterday to work the remaining clots of grass out of my meadow plot area by hand, I relented today and rented another rototiller. That took care of it, in two more passes. Tomorrow the seed and plants go in the ground. One thing the experience has taught me--grass is tough stuff. Soft up top, yes, but sturdy below. Looking out at a well-trimmed lawn (or even at mine), you generally don't get an impression of strength. But it's there. How much more must there be in a mature natural prairie?

Today, the New York Times ran a feature about "relos," a segment of the American upper middle class who are in effect "executive gypsies." As "the shock troops of companies that continually expand across the country and abroad, they move every few years, from St. Louis to Seattle to Singapore, one satellite suburb to another, hopscotching across islands far from the working class and the urban poor." While some of these corporate warriors gladly trade stability for financial reward, others "complain of stress and anomie. They have traded a home in one place for a job that could be anyplace. Relo children do not know a hometown; their parents do not know where their funerals will be. There is little in the way of small-town ties or big-city amenities - grandparents and cousins, longtime neighbors, vibrant boulevards, homegrown shops - that let roots sink in deep."

Sound like a life I couldn't manage, though also one I'm unlikely to be tempted with. I think there is some value of being intimate with a particular landscape, and that's obviously not an option for the relo set. But even more unsettling (so to speak) is the impression the article gives of relo life being confined by work, commuting, and residence in a place designed to insulate and pamper people like oneself. Confusing, challenging stimuli kept to a minimum, and an escape always in the offing with the next promotion or transfer. All the usual problems of suburbia, just heightened by a life of constant motion. Too long in this pattern, I suspect, would give one an incredibly warped view of the world and one's fellow beings, much as happens with the habitués of academic ghettoes.

Somewhat reassuring is the fact that most of the individuals profiled in this articles seem to sense and try to counteract many of the problems this life poses. They try to forge some kind of connection with their temporary communities. An interesting shift, this, where even the most basic sorts of community connection belonging even in the sense of residence, are things improvised and not given. Though probably one in the offing for a long time. Its apotheosis may be here.