Author: Bailey Reutzel

Washington

Washington

Posted by | Dec 2, 2015 | |

Smoke billows from my lips, a stark contrast against the night sky on Orcas Island–part of Washington state’s San Juan Islands. There’s not a sound to interrupt my thoughts as I turn to see a “We’re hiring” sign posted on the window of The White Horse Pub, a restaurant and bar where a friend, Warren works. It’s not tourist season on the islands, but there’s a steady stream of locals into the bar on a Wednesday. I could make it off server salary. With the steady paycheck of a minimum wage job, I could live pretty damn good. Should...

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Oregon

Posted by | Nov 26, 2015 | |

I’m in Portland when a warm, fuzzy feeling comes over me–and it’s not just because I’m finally out of the notorious Oregon rain. This time, I’m being introduced to the tenets of time banking. It’s that feeling that many challengers of Socialist systems say is a product of a utopian vision of human cooperation, one that’s but a dream. To them, my reaction is like that of a 5-year-old kid hoping for a unicorn. Sure, it feels good to think about, but it’s also irrational. But I’d push back on that, because these systems continue to gain speed as complementary currencies to fiat money. In a little over a year, about 120 members have joined the Portland time bank without marketing of any kind. Within the time banking system, members aren’t encouraged to accumulate wealth, but to be at zero, giving and receiving value in the form of time equally. “Receiving is just as important as giving,” says Lenore Eklund. She invites me to a time bank potluck, in which one member generously offers her living room and home-cooked vegetarian food to a small group. If I sign up online for the PDX (Portland’s nickname) time bank, I could earn one time credit just for attending the get-together. In most every other activity, one hour of work secures you one time credit, which can then be used to purchase...

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California

Posted by | Nov 21, 2015 | |

“What is your name tonight?” asks Richard Simmons. “Because you definitely can’t be yourself.” I ponder longer than necessary. I want to pick the perfect alter-ego for this hippie Halloween party in Los Angeles, California. I’m a little nervous; I won’t know anyone at the party besides a friend from college, who I haven’t seen in four years. “Foxy Cleopatra,” I blurt out, which seems to work since I’m wearing a patterned one piece with a gold disco ball necklace, a floppy multi-colored hat and black platforms. Like Beyonce from Austin Powers; I’ve always wanted to be her. And so it begins. College friend Katie is sitting on the floor, dabbing on vibrant eye shadow, accentuated with sparkles. Things haven’t changed all that much, and I sit down on the bed and close my eyes. “I brought Fireball.” There’s a pressurized liquid gas click, a soft crackle and an inhale. The sound is easily recognizable, even with my eyes closed, waiting for bright pink cosmetic. There’s no reason to open them, I don’t usually smoke weed. A product of too many college nights stoned, paranoid and mute. “You want some blow?” Katie asks. Cleo’s ears perk up; guests are starting to shuffle in and a quick sniff will curb her reserve. “I’ve got some K and GHB.” Ketamine is on Cleo’s acceptable party drug menu. But GHB, a drug...

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Nevada

Nevada

Posted by | Nov 16, 2015 | |

Out of the desert, Las Vegas, Nevada, is America’s oasis of vice with its cartoon casinos and imitation hotels, four-foot tall frozen drinks and legal prostitutes blending in with every other tourist that’s come sporting tiny dresses and heels. I’ve never been one to pass up a spectacle, but I really only go to Vegas for conferences, this time it’s for Money2020, a four-day affair dedicated to payments and financial services innovation, with appearances by plenty of CEOs and rapper Wyclef Jean. Vegas is many things to many people, the same conference halls holding court to whoever has greenbacks to spare. The Venetian...

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Montana

Montana

Posted by | Nov 9, 2015 | |

  Turns out the online flyer didn’t have an address. I had expected more people to show up at the meeting, but it’s just Nancy and I. We’re sitting at Desert Rose, a bar and restaurant in Belgrade, Montana, that uses old fryer grease for heat, part of the environmental change Nancy thinks America needs. She brings up the Industrial Revolution and the tech-centric self-reliance it spawned. She argues it has led us to become disconnected from our neighbors, that we now prefer to get in the car and drive to the grocery store instead of walking next door to ask our...

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South Dakota

South Dakota

Posted by | Nov 2, 2015 | |

The first Lakota people climbed out of Wind Cave and onto the Earth, following a trickster spirit’s tales of the bright blue skies, green grass and an abundance of buffalo for food, clothing and shelter. While the Native Americans on the South Dakota plains were unpleasantly surprised by the harsh weather and erratic food supply, the spirit wasn’t wrong about the beauty of the Black Hills. Nearly 34,000 acres surrounding the cave was named Wind Cave National Park in 1903 by President Theodore Roosevelt, a Republican that championed for conservation of wild space, the breaking of trusts and the...

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