Memorial Day stay-cation made by great documentaries

During this year's Memorial Day weekend, thanks in large part to the rising cost of Bushgas, Daisy and I took a stay-cation and spent most of the three-day break at or near home. We didn't get a lot of work done, but that wasn't our intent. We stayed up late, we slept late. On Saturday night, we ate a late breakfast at Waffle House, and on Sunday, I made barbecue (the noun, not the verb; but we'll get to barbecue in due course, for there is much to say about it) with corn-on-the-cob, green beans and new potatoes, and the cole slaw that I learned to make at my grandmother's knees. And, without intending to, we were sucked into three documentaties -- two of them on the Sundance Channel.

The first was one called "Off the Grid: Life on the Mesa." I was amazed that people can live in 2008 as was shown in this film -- a real-life version of "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" in the New Mexico desert -- and I'm confident I'd never want to live there.

A reviewer for the Chicago Tribune gave the movie four stars -- I don't know if I'd go that far but it definitely kept my attention -- and said it would be "too hasty, and quite possibly wrong" to dismiss the film's subjects as "a bunch of freaks" since they "demonstrate a civil lifestyle." Okay, so how does he explain them?

The 400 or so Mesa dwellers are a mix of hippies, veterans, runaways and other free spirits, surviving on about 15 square miles of New Mexico desert. Most consider their way of life the ultimate expression of self-reliant American freedom (but some charity food handouts and government checks do flutter into the area--one of several interesting paradoxes).

When a neighbor arrives asking for some gasoline, a Mesa-dweller named Gene (a.k.a. Gecko) tells him where to find a container with a couple gallons. Gene explains that while he won't get immediate compensation, he'll get something in return from his neighbor on another day.

In my opinion, this reviewer is sanitizing the folks on the Mesa a bit more than even they would prefer. Cleanliness, next to godliness, doesn't appear to be high on the list of the Mesans. Although he did get it right that these folks have an exceptionally healthy sense of right and wrong, and there's a mile-wide Libertarian streak running through their "Survivor" psychology.

Because of the climate, the people are also very frugal. They nurture a few crops (including some that ... y'know ... help mellow them out) and some animals. Many homes have solar arrays. But "living green" is often in stark contrast to fits of wanton destruction: After Gene's children return to his wife in Connecticut, he sets fire to a van outside his home. The landscape is beautiful except for the patches around the shanty/homes. Paradox.

The film is a scant 70 minutes, yet it embraces a broad range of people and ideas. In the end, you may find it difficult to decide if the last chapter of truly free America is unfolding in the New Mexico desert, or if it's just a bunch of wackos who've been toasting in the desert a little too long.

Todd Seavey got to attend a screening in New York last August with the producer/directors of the documentary, and he wrote:

In the Q&A that followed last night’s showing of the documentary Off the Grid: Life on the Mesa, one of the producer-directors said he was surprised (as a New Yorker who expects freedom-loving loners like the desert-dwellers depicted in the movie to be leftists) to find that this little community of people living on a southwestern mesa, while loving and raising marijuana and being suspicious of mainstream society, were also eagerly gun-toting self-proclaimed patriots, several of whom had served in the military and would do so again.

The head of the Lincoln Center Film Society, on hand to lead the proceedings, echoed my own thoughts when she said that if lots of people hear about the free-wheeling, Road Warrior-like (as one of the producers actually called it) life of the mesa-dwellers and want to share it, we may see “the gentrification of the mesa” — reminding me of last month’s Debate at Lolita Bar on such matters.

At the same time, it has to be said, some of the mesa-dwellers display the same psychological tendencies seen in the homeless, so they probably shouldn’t be a model for all of society (any more than Burning Man should be, as I suggested halfway through this entry). There’s always something a little crazy — though not necessarily bad — about leaving civilization behind and heading out into the wilderness. Or, as I believe my friend Deborah Colloton once said, “If men aren’t married by the time they’re forty, they start getting weird and go into the woods and make bombs [like Ted Kaczynski].” There’s probably some simple but profound truth to that. I have two years.

For more information on "Off the Grid: Life on the Mesa," click over here, and over here, and over here. My own advice: Don't watch the doc while having lunch. There's a particularly unpleasant sequence involving dead baby goats.

From the subverse to the sublime: Daisy went channel surfing on Sunday evening and landed on C-SPAN, which was airing a gorgeous documentary on Capitol Hill, including a fascinating guided tour all the way up to the top of the dome. In fact, what we watched was a series of short documentary segments, or, as C-SPAN describes it, "a special series looking into the history, art and architecture of the United States Capitol. Through interviews, tours, and unprecedented access into the building's public and private spaces, C-SPAN presents a groundbreaking look inside the building that both houses and symbolizes American democratic government here and around the world."

By sheer coincidence, the evening we watched this program was the twenty-fifth anniversary of my first visit to Capitol Hill, as part of my eighth-grade field trip to Washington, D.C. The documentary brought back some nice memories: My parents ponied up a hundred bucks for the field trip. We stayed in Falls Church, a suburb of Washington just beyond Arlington on the Robert E. Lee Highway.

I recall the hot, slow elevator ride to the top of the Washington Monument, and peering out of those tiny four rectangular windows at the top. I remember a slow walk through the sultry Botanical Gardens, and the ringing echoes in Statuary Hall on Capitol Hill. We also visited the Lincoln Memorial, but my favorite then, and still, was the Jefferson Memorial. I've only gone back to it once since then, last year, when Daisy and I visited it. Of all of the monuments, the Jefferson is the most emotional to me.

The field trip was great and I enjoyed Washington. I wouldn't be back in the city again for 12 years.

After watching the program on C-SPAN, both Daisy and I spent a few minutes online to search out more information about things we'd just learned, looking up great quotes and other notes. I've been back to Washington many times now -- I'm there fairly often -- but I learned things from the documentary I never knew before. To me, Capitol Hill is our national philosophical chapel. It's a powerful, spiritual place, given the history of the nation and all that has been said and done there.

I'll share notes on the third documentary we watched in the next note.