So lots of folks who are usually suspicious of big government conspiracy panics are perking up their ears lately and taking action regarding an impending bill that's currently in committee: H.R. 875, The Food Safety Modernization Act of 2009. The bill threatens, in the name of "food safety," to subject small farms and even garden hobbyists to the same rules as large agribusinesses, making organic and heirloom methods extremely difficult, if not illegal. Farmer advocate Alex Tiller (yep, that's his real name) has a good explanation of why this bill is significant, with links to LeaveMyFoodAlone.org, a web site set up specifically to explain the bill's dangers and help mediate our response to government officials through a petition. You can also read the full text of the bill and vote "yea" or "nay" at OpenCongress.org. Whether you do or don't support the bill after doing some of your own research, this is an issue worth looking into as individuals and as communities.

So it's really been hitting me lately how many people we know personally who are around our age and taking hold of Wendell Berry's poet farmer vision by both horns (or sprouts or branches) and putting down roots on farms. Fortunately for us, they've made the very un-Berry decision to post artifacts online so we can keep up with their inspiring stories. Moving from west to east...

• After a very cool tour of Mennonite churches to reinvigorate congregations' peace ethic and conversations, Matt and Elizabeth are pondering starting a CSA in Matt's hometown of Shickley, Nebraska.


• Dan, Julie and Harper just bought a 20-acre farm in Demotte, Indiana, after being involved with Victory Acres for a few years.


• Rachel, David and Henry are in Three Rivers, Michigan. We're looking forward to getting to know them better when we move back, but have already enjoyed their goat chevre.


• Steve has just moved to Franklin Farm, an urban agrarian intentional community in Grand Rapids.


• Mel and Steve and their brood are exploring infinite possibilities on a plot of land in Columbiana, Ohio (and they're looking for summer project participants!).


• Sarah, Henry and Moses have started Field Sparrow Farms in Cameron, Ontario.

And let's not forget our friends at Russet House Farm in Cameron and our friend Karla, founder of the Three Rivers Sustainable Food Group, who's in the process of naming her land, reclaiming her neglected farmhouse and envisioning possibilities for half a dozen outbuildings. I'm really excited to see how these projects go--and to have such neat people and places to visit!

I had a dream the other night about standing up and yelling in a church. As I sat down, I felt equally conspicuous and convicted about what I had to say in an attempt to "wake up" the congregation to its hypocrisies. But then I stood up and interrupted the speaker again, to let him know that I loved him, or that I was trying to love him, and ask if he would like to sit down for coffee with me after church. I needed to be prophetic, but also to create a humanizing connection.

It was a dream about a particular church for sure, but also, I think, about dancing and about telemarketers.

I'll save the dancing interpretation for another time, but I did want to put some of my questions about telemarketers "out there" to see if anyone has any words of wisdom. We've been receiving a lot of telemarketing calls lately--more than usual. My hunch is that it has something to do with the flailing economy; either a company recently sold off our information or companies are investing more into getting themselves into our homes in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.

I don't feel badly hanging up on an automated voice or hanging up after the pause and before I hear the click that automatically puts my answer through to someone's line. However, I am troubled by the nature of interactions with very real human beings on the other end.

I have never, ever responded to a request to purchase or donate by phone. Even when my credit card company is trying to offer me "free" credit protection, I politely decline. And decline. And decline. The other day, I had refused credit protection twice, but the woman on the other end just kept talking, she just needed to confirm my information to be able to send out the packet of materials and enroll me in the program. And it wasn't a language barrier. So I changed my approach.

"Look, I understand your situation. This is your job and you have to try to sell me this thing, but I'm really not interested. I've gotten burned on a program like this before."

"I just need to confirm your information. Do you still live at...?"

I hung up. I can count on one hand the number of times I've hung up on anyone, telemarketers included.

Now, I'm sure telemarketers hear all kinds of things, including personal attacks, in the course of a day, so my hang up probably just rolled right off her back as the lights started blinking for the next call. But what if it didn't? What if she went home seething about the smart ass who "understands her situation," and yet refused to just enroll in the dumb program and cancel within 30 days so she wouldn't be charged anything?

There are several obstacles to showing love in these circumstances. The calls happen so quickly, and if we say something we regret, there's no opportunity for reconciliation because the calls are also anonymous. It's also very difficult to make a human connection in a situation which is inherently dehumanizing. On one end is a person who's been charged to make as many calls and sales during his or her shift as possible as a computer keeps relentlessly shuffling numbers along the assembly line; he or she would be replaced by a machine if possible (and often, they are). On the other end is someone whose sense of privacy and home is being violated in some foggy kind of way. (In fact, Rob and I often tell white lies for each other--"she's not available right now. Can I take a message?")

Because of the dehumanizing nature of the situation, some might argue that we're not under any obligation to try to transform it into something other than what it is. And yet, this is a small circumstance which seems to bear unrecognized possibilities. And I'm not talking about Jerry Seinfeld's snarky response: "I'm busy right now, but if you give me your home number, I can call you back later."

Am I taking this too seriously? Has anyone found an imaginatively kind way to deal with telemarketing calls or is politely declining the best recourse, even in a situation when someone is robotic-ally persistent?