The worst insult

Jack Deatherage

(3/2023) In 68 years I've been called many derogatory names: lazy, idiot, stupid, drunk, unambitious, ugly, willful, bone - headed and stubborn ass are among the few that are printable. Recently, philanthropist was added to the list.

Not that I knew what the word meant when it was used to chastise me, but I knew by the tone of the speaker it wasn't something pleasant. By the gods! I never expected it to be such an inappropriately disgusting term!

"Philanthropist: a person who seeks to promote the welfare of others, especially by the generous donation of money to good causes."

If I am anything that needs a label, I'd have to go with Randian Objectivist.

"Objectivism is designed as a guide to life, and celebrates the remarkable potential and power of the individual. Objectivism also challenges the doctrines of irrationalism, self - sacrifice, brute force, and collectivism that have brought centuries of chaos and misery into the lives of millions of individuals." - The Atlas Society

Not that I've succeeded in living said philosophy, I am a lazy idiot. Still, when my thinking apparatus seems to be working at a slightly higher level than contemplating a nap, Objectivism makes the most sense to me when compared to the other philosophies I've given ten minutes of consideration to.

How did I get labeled a philanthropist? It began with an argument over my wanting to create a new community garden. "You don't have the money to build the garden yourself. Either get the town to pay for it or drop the project."

A few days later another person jumped in with, "Until you make people own it, they'll just be waiting for their weekly grocery delivery. A giant yard sale (all proceeds going to tools, seeds and supplies), aluminum/metal recycling, etc. As long as you find a way to justify paying for stuff yourself, it's not going to work."

Then a third person said, "You know what you are? You're a philanthropist."

None of the people were listening to my protestations. They "know" me better than I know myself evidently. Meh.

Given those people won't be down in the dirt with me I've been moving on with the garden project while keeping their words in mind. The DW and I ran some measuring tapes about the proposed garden site and I drew up a new design for Commissioner Amy's and Town Manager Cathy's consideration. While walking about the market lot I happened upon a neighbor. We talked about what I'm planning to do there. The neighbor is on board with the project. Later, with the help of the town's works crew I gathered soil samples and mailed them off the University of Delaware's testing lab. (My recently bought soil sample coring tool didn't work as advertised so we used a shovel the crew had brought along. Hear the gods laughing?) I'm now out of pocket $87.00, less than what I spent biweekly on alcohol and cigarettes in the 1970s. Seems like a bargain so far.

This philanthropist slur. I think it comes in large part from the word "community" which reeks of "socialism" in my circle of jabber - jawwers. Oddly, those uncolleged who read "Atlas Shrugged" often seem to have missed that a community is necessary for the individual to thrive. Less oddly, those few college papered people I've discussed "Atlas Shrugged" with generally think the story is all about selfish greed.

Idiot that I am, how did I manage to come away with an understanding of Rand's, to me, most basic point; the creative individual can not thrive without a community that allows the individual to create, and, the repressive community will sink into decay if those who create are denied the ability to do so?

As an Objectivist, I suggested a new community garden for personal reasons. I want the ground because of its location and possibly because of its soil. I want to plan, to build, to plant, to experiment, to learn and that ground looks good for all of that! To that end I will put aside my lazy, misanthropic nature and reach out to those who might also benefit from a garden we build together.

When the garden becomes reality, and people use it to their selfish purposes - teaching children, feeding themselves, attracting vendors and buyers to the farmers market, growing flowers for the native pollinators, saving native wildflowers, growing foods for the town's food bank, promoting the town and building a more active community - why would anyone care that the idiot who proposed the project had selfish reasons for doing so?

Now, I struggle with self - doubt constantly. I tend to pay attention to those who tell me I can't more often than I listen to those who tell me I can. I know my physical limits (they are proving to be much worse than I thought) and my bobble - headedness is always on the lookout for some new, shiny bauble to lead me off track when a project is only half begun! Advancing senility isn't helping.

Fortunately, Brian keeps stepping up and urging me on. "We can do this brother! We can skip the asbestos testing and build raised beds from logs scattered about town properties."

Being lazy, and thinking long term, I suggest "made in Australia" raised metal beds that have a proven 12 to 13 year lifespan, at least for the children's section of the community garden.

"We'll do both!" Brian wants to play with his chainsaw and keep costs as low as possible.

We agree that we can get down in the dirt without fear of heavy metals or asbestos killing us. Meh. Dropping dead of heart attacks as we're working the ground is more likely for either of us. Raised beds filled with clean soil would be for the youngsters with their lifelines stretching out far ahead of them.

Creating a flowerbed bordering the sidewalk along Cedar Avenue is my primary goal. I envision 30 feet of sunflowers rising 11 to 14 feet into the air at the back of the bed. Shorter, multi - flowered varieties of sunflowers would front the giants and an array of cutting flowers would front those.

Secondary are two metal beds for the children's use - 8.5' x 2' x 15" filled with a clean soil mix so we avoid any chance of whatever might be lurking in the ground beneath them. The metal beds I have in mind cost $200 each, plus the cost of filling them.

Do I have $400 to spend on raised beds? Nope. I'll sacrifice something I normally spend money on when it's time to buy the beds. Why? Because if getting the library's, or schools', or homeschooling groups', or my neighbors' children involved in the community garden helps build the garden I'll get to plant in, then I'll buy the beds. I'm selfish! Duh.

I can be reached via the post office:

Deatherage

PO Box 417

Emmitsburg, MD 21727

Ph: 301 - 447 - 2151 (if the answering machine picks up, please leave a contact number - speak slowly and clearly - English is a struggle for me, all other languages are beyond me)

Email: jackdeathjr@juno.com