Connecticut – K. Close III

…in which I talk about the futility of lawn care in the Texas summer.

So, when I was growing up in Connecticut, we didn’t have a lawn at all. We lived in the deep woods surrounded by rich deciduous trees that would support nothing beneath their canopy but a thick layer of mulched leaves and moss. In those youthful days of frolicking in the rough, often brambly undergrowth of the New England forestry, I dreamed of nothing more than a lush green lawn with grass so thick it was like carpet that tickled your toes on warm summer days. What I got, however, was a house in Texas with a dry, desolate excuse for a lawn, with grass that is almost perpetually in hibernation.

My Modular Life…

…in which I talk about the hot swappable, interchangeable nature of modern world living.

If my memory of American and industrial history serves me well, it was Colt that developed the first true interchangeable design, wherein every part is fully replaceable. As I look at my life in the 21st century, I can think about how far that concept of fully compatible individual components has come. There is almost nothing in my world around me that can’t be altered, changed, upgraded (or downgraded) by the simple removal and replacement of key components.

Of course the more this kind of philosophy integrates with our modern lives, the more I wish there were things in my habitual lifestyle that could be modularly replaced or exchanged.