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REVIEWS
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
WEDNESDAY JULY 15, 2009
THU JUL 23
RATT
w/ EXTREME
FRI JUL 24
Pitch BLOCK PARTY featuring
REV HORTON HEAT
Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
Split Lip Rayfield,
Nekromantix, & more
SAT JUL 25
KEVIN COSTNER
& MODERN WEST
SUN JUL 26
THE WAILERS
+ TOOTS & THE MAYTALS
FRI JUL 31
COWBOY MOUTH
TUE AUG 4
GEORGE THOROGOOD
& JONNY LANG
Book: Cows are Freaky When They Look at You: An Oral History of the Kaw Valley Hemp Pickers edited by David Ohle, Roger Martin and Susan Brosseau
Though first published more than a decade ago, this rare nut-gut should be required reading for all inhabitants of Lawrence. The book is made up of mostly random vignettes by hippies who lived in Lawrence and throughout Kansas in the '60s and '70s. Although a foreword by William S. Burroughs weaves a loose connection between the stories through a description of the marijuana harvesters of Lawrence and the surrounding areas, the stories themselves are mostly stream of consciousness memories. Lawrence landmarks such as Massachusetts Street and the Gaslight Tavern play prominent roles throughout the tales, as do places that have since faded into history. Not all the stories recount drug-hazed memories. Many defy the stereotypical picture of the '60s we've been raised on. Some are deeply personal confessions by those who were caught up in the "free love" and hard partying, but longed for monogamy and the domestic life. Then there are the paranolia-tinged drug deal stories that range from knee-slapping
hilarious to downright terrifying. Whatever tale is being told, the essays capture a fascinating time in the nation's history through the unique lens of Lawrence folk playing out their versions of the hippy scene. Though the essays are credited to aliases (ex: Buzzy Flashback) part of the enjoyment of the read comes from scanning the faces of old townies downtown and wondering: Is this their story?
Dylan Sands
Sidewalk Sale!
Book: Shop Class As Soulcraft: An Inquiry into the Value of Work by Matthew B. Crawford
Next time you wash your hands in a public restroom, remember this book.
Is the faucet where you wash your hands a newfangled, infrared hand-sensing faucet that, as author Matthew B. Crawford writes, "offends the spirited personality" by putting your hands at the mercy of the sensor? Or is it a faucet of an earlier time, where the water ran normally, and people were trusted to turn the lever off after they finished using it?
Crawford's book strings together these examples, along with a detailed look at his experience as a writer of academic journal abstracts and a member of a Washington think tank — two jobs he found to be intelligence depriving and unfulfilling. He also looks at his time as an electrician and a motorcycle mechanic — jobs he finds provide more intellectual stimulation and a better sense of community — and how these are being neglected in the rise of the "knowledge workers."
Yes, Crawford does make these points by writing them down and having his published work in bookstores. Yes, he does share shelf space with self-help books, management manuals and other tools that attempt to make the process of something more important than the product. But his assessment of college and office culture and what middle management has done works to strike an internal chord. Crawford will strike a chord to anytime you've felt intellectually bored in work that you once thought was intellectually stimulating, and provides context to recent phenomena such as backyard vegetable gardens (it's not just because everyone wants cheap vegetables). It's a brilliant assessment of what joy a motorcycle repairman job gives Crawford, who also holds a Ph.D. in political philosophy.
Crawford doesn't advocate the end of commerce. Rather, he argues that jobs such as motorcycle repair and plumbing aren't dumb-peopleblue-collar jobs. He argues for the return of shop class in high schools, which he says is often the first to go in schools that demand 100 percent college prep.
I recommend this book, which will most likely sprout a self-assessment like it did for me. Oh, and demand manual faucets and paper towels in public restrooms. You deserve some mental stimulation.
— Jesse Rangel