A River Runs Through It

For Now, Anyway.

My neighborhood is one of abundance. Located on a sprawling 4000 acre parcel, it was established during a time where homes were placed on large lots among the existing trees instead of clear-cutting vast swaths to build as many houses as close together as possible to maximize profits.

There are ponds, stands of trees, and, in some places, forests. Of course, some developers currently want to erase more of the landscape in the interest of building more homes, but isn’t that always the case? Why keep anything when a dollar can be made. It’s why corporations exist, you know?

My back yard abuts a pond stocked with Bass and Crappie, Sunfish and Bluegills. You wouldn’t want to eat any of these because of the chemical runoff from the golf courses which wind their way through the neighborhood, but, coupled with a few beers, it makes for some fun catch-and-release in the evening hours .

Admittedly, I’m not much of an angler, though I periodically enjoy fly fishing. My son, however, is a rabid enthusiast, and we’ve enjoyed many moments together on tributaries both small and wide in pursuit of elusive fish. He is patient with me, even when my luck bests his for he is the better fisherman.

The Angler. PC: Me

The other night, my son and I fished the pond and reminisced earlier fishing trips on wide rivers, him teaching me, as he always does, the finer points of fly-fish angling. If there is anything better than a cigar, a good drink, and a steady companion on an ebullient summer evening, I have yet to find it.

The following morning I awoke with the final monologue of Norman Maclean’s 1976 novella, A River Runs Through It, in my head, though I don’t know why. It’s been years since I read the story. Would that Robert Redford would have found me to adapt my books to tell a similar tale, though Maclean would write circles around me.

The quote:

_{“Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn’t. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”}

I know I’m aging. I know I’m being confronted by the life’s limitations as one grows older. I am not yet in the same frame as Maclean when he wrote this amazing, metaphorical closing to his seminal work, but I identify with its message. Then it came to me.

Data centers. Water consumption. The destruction of the environment. None of has ever concerned any Presidential administration, less so under Trump.

We’ve traded one thing for another, as usual. PC: substack.com

Data centers are built in rural areas and often approved in secret without discussion. These areas are abundant in water and beautiful terrain, but low in financial capital.

In many cases, the rural communities rubber-stamp the construction of a data center for small profits. The money is spent, the money is made, and the carnival moves on, the long-term damage and consequences be damned.

Data centers are modern fracking.

I’ve fished and swam in the Blackfoot. It’s worth saving. PC: nbcmontana.com

To that point, the very spot Maclean wrote about is now being considered for both a gold mine and an AI data center. If approved, there will be no Montana to ogle. Nothing nature provided will be held in awe.

We have more data centers already than our next three competitors, so where do we need a further advantage? Because you might want to investigate how these are being financed since your 401k is likely rolled into them. If AI doesn’t turn a profit, guess what happens to your retirement? It’s all going into Kevin O’ Leary’s pocket.

As usual, we’ve been sold a lie. There’s no AI requirement in our lives. If you don’t subscribe to it you will not get left behind, promise. With some data centers as large as 40K acres and utilizing 7.5 gigawatts of power, we don’t need these things.

I worry. I worry about the future for my granddaughter. I worry what will this planet look like in the wake of the greediest people who ever lived lining their pockets until the very end. I worry it will never be enough, so there will always be something to consume.

I want impossibly rich people to use their power and influence for good. God, how much will satiate you?

I feel you, Betsy. I feel you. PC: Facebook.com

I want the humans on this earth to come to their senses. If we don’t we will be haunted by our decisions as the water dries up and is syphoned off for ill-gotten gains.

I want the countryside to remain unchanged. But I know the answer to that desire.

Still, I want a river to run through it.

Thanks for sticking with me.

You’ll love my full-length novel! It’s the real story of being in the military.

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