Divide and Unite

Commitments

I hope everyone enjoyed Kim’s post last week on the effect of labor contracts on our rights! I am so grateful that she was willing to write while I was moving to the other side of the Ramparts. Or atop their plateau? I’m at pretty much the same elevation as their summits now.

My fiancee and I decided in early July that we would stick it out in the United States. Have I mentioned that we got engaged soon after that? Perhaps not.

That’s 680 carats of pure flint, baby.

This was a close call. The staying I mean, not the engagement… but more on that later.

When a Minnesota legislator and her husband were assassinated on the felon’s birthday, I was ready to drive to the nearest international airport and get out of here. Instead, we went to that No Kings Day rally and took heart that at least there were so many of us and no violence, not even any confrontations between felonistas and those who still believe in a constitutional democratic republic.

One reason we stayed was because the prospect of combining our lives, combining our homes, and figuring things out in Uruguay was just too much all at once. People do that, of course, but usually they are in more immediate danger than we were as oldish White citizens. Had we been younger or members of a group more at risk, our considerations would have been different.

Another reason, for me at least, was that leaving under those conditions would have been almost an aesthetic choice. Do I want to live in a country that does the things the felon does? No. But a more grounded preference would be to have this country not do these things. Leaving — exit — would reduce my chances to do anything other than act all morally superior because I’d be an expat.

A third reason to stay was more practical. Younger people should leave because they have a chance to build a new career in a new place. To the extent that part of my (our) income counts on military retirement and Social Security, the felon could make that more difficult — directly, by denying funds to expats, or indirectly, by requiring people to register or reapply in person. I think the odds of that were low, but it meant that the main problem the felon could cause for me would actually be made more likely and more difficult to solve if I left.

Finally, I’m just stubborn. I didn’t want to exchange my dreams of living in a quiet place in the mountains for a duller if safer life in Uruguay.

Divide

So as of a week ago, we own a home seven miles from the nearest highway. If we look just right through the trees, we can see our only neighbor’s house across a little valley. It is so dark and silent here at night, it is like being in a sensory deprivation tank.

It’s wonderful.

This direction from the new house is nothing but miles of public land.

I’ve never lived this rural before, not unless you count two stints living in base housing on the Air Force Academy. But that was more like a small town with clusters of neighbors around a shared common area — a friend of mine said it reminded her of Sweden. It was the kind of place where your child could walk to the elementary school past the coyote and her pups in their den. Groceries and shopping were only a 4-mile drive away. It was great, the kind of place where you could send your preteens out to play in the early 2000s with just a warning to watch out for bears and lions. But it was still on community utilities, still connected to everything.

Here, not so much. Our well is apparently very strong, and its water is delicious. Internet is Starlink, which works really well. It is snappier than the broadband I had in the city. We signed a solar installation contract today, so soon we can take advantage of our southwest-facing garage majal and the intense sunlight at 9,100 feet elevation. After that, we just need to have the septic system pumped every few years and the propane refilled every few weeks — though if it came down to it, we have a fireplace and there are a lot of trees on our property and over the fence in the National Forest.

Don’t worry, I’m not turning into my cat and believing I am self-sufficient. Those links matter, as does the maintenance of the county road and of course the delivery of fuel to the nearest gas station and food to the nearest grocery. But it is different than being in the city.

Dreamy different. Although we don’t have much in the way of views from the house — too many trees and nothing close is higher than us — in 15 minutes we can walk to an old quartz quarry that has a 360-degree panorama from Pikes Peak to Lost Creek Wilderness.

Sentinel Point on the side of Pikes Peak … and yes the aspen are turning up here!

I’ll write more from time to time about living in Divide, but I’ll offer one last first impression. I know it is a cliche and a stereotype, and I’m enough of a social scientist to recognize confirmation bias and the effects of my own positionality, but: people actually do seem friendlier and more helpful than on the mean streets of suburban Colorado Springs.

We noticed that among the various home inspection specialists as we checked out a couple of options for a move. Everyone just had a more relaxed attitude about things. Over the last couple of days, I’ve noticed it even more. Local hardware stores with people happy to help — and to refer people to the other store if needed. Grocery workers who tell you where things are and even how the license plate kiosk works. Retailers who take the time to talk to you.

The only exception to the friendliness was the guy at the one store I visited that had a display of felonista hats. Did he sense my DEMonic nature?¹

Unite

Staying in the United States and buying a new house (in this economy!) is one sign of hope and trust.

The other is getting married next month. Third time for me, first for her!²

Living alone for six-and-a-half years after my second wife died was good for me. That was³ by far the longest I had been on my own, and it gave me a chance to figure myself out a bit. I needed that. Instead of rushing into things in hopes of getting something I thought I needed, I was fortunate enough to find someone whose outlook on life appealed to me.

We have taken it slow. The progression from friends to dating to “in a relationship” to partners is hard to pin down, but it has felt natural as we have become closer and our love has become deeper.

We are good partners. We respect each other’s strengths and intelligence and wisdom. We communicate, we listen, we make amends as warranted. We share beliefs and values. We have interests in common and of our own. We can be together and we can be apart — we can even be apart when we are together, such as at the Board Game Night for Singles MeetUp I sponsor (this being America, since I pay the bill I get to waive the membership standard). We give each other space as we need it.

I believe, from observation of successful marriages, that those are all good things.

I am so very glad to be committed to unity with her during these times — or any times. Together, we will hope for the best and do what we can to improve the world within our reach.

Rainbows in the sky can’t be paved over

1. The local school district was taken over by Christian nationalists a few years ago. My vote can make more of a difference here in that battle than it would have down below. And despite moving to a felonista county, I now get a Democrat representing me in Congress for the first time since moving back to Colorado.

2. We are effectively the same age, same HS graduation year, though she’s a Boomer and I’m Gen X.

3. "That was”! A week ago it would have been “This is”!