Deviate
There was this odd kid and I used to hear him muttering to himself, "Deviate. Deviate."
I own a teddy bear.
I came into possession of this stuffed creature when I went away to college in Prescott, Arizona. I may have had a teddy bear while growing up but I have no memory of it. It seems improbable I would not have had one but, if I did, its tattered remains did not persist into adolescence.
This teddy bear—with its black torso, predominantly black arms and legs with a black and white checkerboard pattern towards the end of all four appendages and a very thin white Elizabethan like collar—was lovingly handmade in downtown Prescott by a woman whose shop held nothing but one of a kind teddy bears. I spent some portion of my freshman year hanging out in her shop doing errands for her, I bought several teddy bears for people I thought would appreciate them and I distinctly remember making a point of taking my mother to visit so that she too could marvel at this woman’s creations.
Every bear was different.
Mine I call Rafter Jim Tex—if I call him anything at all—and, at present, he is the placeholder, for the left side of my swanky, plush and expensive new bed. (Too much information? I’m just trying to be honest and real.) Rafter Jim Tex was a nickname I was given during my nine months living and going to school in Prescott and I decided to hand it down to my handcrafted teddy bear.
A couple of things made me think of the French woman in Prescott who was making a living sewing together one-of-a-kind teddy bears made from fabrics of all types and then shipping them all over the world, as well as selling them to tourists. She may have been my catalyst for—eventually—being at peace with becoming a ‘small businessman’. Since, never in my wildest dreams, had I expected to become an entrepreneur. Seeing that she could make a living, or dare to make a living, on something she was passionate about was an education I’m sure I wasn’t aware of at the time I was being educated.
Going to Prescott College to begin with was a strange redirection of my lifeline trajectory. Prescott College did not have credits, semesters or quarters, any sports teams and, certainly, no mascots. Half of the student population wasn’t even on campus. They were out “in the field” doing research on whatever subject they and their advisor agreed on. Being introduced to someone earning an income on something they were passionate about kicked me just a little bit further down the road Joseph Campbell and his “follow your bliss” mantra were on.
The other thing or two that got me thinking about unorthodox ways of making a living or finding your place in the world was an article in the Western Washington University alumni magazine that I almost always recycle. It was about a company called Pellets, Inc. and the alumni, who are husband and wife, who have been running it for the past thirty plus years.
What they loved was tromping about in the woods. Of course, if you like tromping about in the woods, you probably also appreciate wildlife. While at Western in the early ‘80s, their biology professor would pay them for the scat from barn owls which, apparently, can be readily collected if you know where to look—and in significant quantities.
From the picture I saw, the scat—or pellets—are about the size of golf balls or ping pong balls and the reason they are valuable is that barn owls eat their prey whole and, when they defecate, they defecate the prey whole as well, but it is merely a complete skeleton in conjunction with the fur and other digestive matter. These ‘pellets’, as it turns out, are valuable to science teachers around the country.
The couple, who originally worked as subcontractors for the biology prof, bought the enterprise from him in the ‘90s and have been running it ever since. Who knew you could earn a living on barn owl scat? I find these kinds of serendipitous stories fascinating, and decidedly up-lifting. Hopeful.
I like tales of folks making their way through the world in a nonlinear fashion. I like knowing it is still possible to color outside of the box.
Those who become guides for outdoor activities are notoriously resourceful, creative and comfortable with unorthodoxy. I have too many examples to get to them all, as well as a self-proscribed column length, but there was one other story this week that rose to the level of my consciousness and made me think about roads less traveled.
There’s a young woman who worked as a river guide for me a while back and what initially made her notable to me—besides her competence, reliability and love of animals—was that, not only was she from Austin, Texas, she was from the same high school in Austin, Texas, that one of our other female guides had graduated from, that one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL graduated from (Drew Brees) and my niece graduated from. And they were all from different eras and, as far as I know, none of them knew one another. (My niece, Andrea, MIGHT have been concurrent with Drew Brees. I am certain I will hear about it.)
In any event, this young woman from Texas, bucking all the odds—at least in my mind, because most Texans never make the break from the Lone Star State—remained in Leavenworth after she moved on from steering tourists down the Wenatchee River, bought property along with her partner several miles outside town and has ensconced herself in the community by taking on the directorship of the weekly farmer’s market while also doing what she can to help others find housing in an overheated market by working with a local non-profit called Upper Valley MEND. I haven’t spoken directly with her about all of this but I’d hazard a guess, ten years ago, this wasn’t the trajectory she’d imagined.
But it’s a trajectory she’s embraced.
I love these kinds of deviants. I love their deviant tales.
Not that there is anything wrong with following other paths, or following a linear straight forward path, it’s just nice to hear ‘success’ stories about those who step out of the line and do the unexpected.
Alert ass reader Dallas Silva turned me on to a BBC podcast called The Infinite Monkey Cage. What’s it about? The last four titles: The History of Rock, The Fundamentals of Reality, The Science of Cooking and Neanderthals. In other words, anything and everything. Facts and comedy merged. With a British sensibility to it. I quite liked it.
Also, another AAR, Nancy Enz Lill, suggested I check out the romance comedy About Time on Netflix. If she had mentioned it starred Rachel MacAdams and Bill Nighy (the aging pop star in Love, Actually), I would have been all over it in a heartbeat. I put it off for a bit because I’ve been plowing through several engrossing series but I finally watched two nights ago and—it’s a winner! Check it out.