These days, it’s nearly impossible to turn on the news without hearing a politician warning us darkly about a “socialist agenda” taking root in Washington. A historically loaded and negative term to the ears of most citizens, the fervor with which it has been slung in recent times recalls a ghost of the Red Scare. In reality, America, like any other country, benefits from many institutions that operate under the principles of collective, and often local, ownership. Take the public library, for example, which is a distinctly American invention of which few towns are without.

So we are in a bit of a conundrum. While we all benefit from and make good use of collective resources, we at the same time are suspicious of the theory behind which they operate. Thus while on the one hand we deride the idea of universal healthcare as “socialized medicine,” we do not question the merit of public K-12 education, which, let’s be honest, is really “socialized education.” It’s certainly quite an interesting, confusing, and complicated public debate.

That being said, I thought it could be worthwhile to investigate some uniquely American examples of collective ownership at work. The examples that follow include successful businesses, cooperative housing, sports teams, and even a prime example right here in Burlington. While the examples are wide-ranging, they follow a few basic principles: namely, they are locally-owned, and they are run cooperatively, with members having both a say in the decision making process, and a stake in their success or failure.

So here goes:

Recreational Equipment Incorporated

This Seattle-based company is the largest consumer cooperative in the United States. Like other consumer cooperatives (such as City Market), members receive an annual check of 10% of what they spend per year at R.E.I., which can be used as credit or collected as cash. Other perks include discounts on rental equipment, member-only special deals, exclusive coupons, and more. The incentive for membership is clear, and the reward for the business is readily apparent; when a business, at least in part, belongs to you, you are that much more likely to spend your money there.

Co-Op City

In the northeast corner of NYC, in the Bronx, you can find Co-Op City, the single largest housing development in the United States. Made up of 15,372 residential units in 35 high rise buildings, this city-within-a-city boasts multiple schools, shopping centers, a power plant, daycare centers, parks, a movie theater, two newspapers, and just about anything else one could need. Co-Op City is run by a board elected by tenants of the complex. Moreover, it is a uniquely diverse community. Like any other housing cooperative, it’s tenants own shares in the overall cooperative, and thus have more legal power over their apartments than tenants in a traditional owner/tenant situation. In an age in which renting is becoming more and more the norm, the cooperative alternative may be an appealing choice for many people.

The Green Bay Packers

As the NFL’s only self-funded team, they are owned exclusively by their fans. You can read more about them in full here. One of the greatest argument for collective ownership of a sports team, besides the obvious pride the fans have in owning a small fraction of the franchise, is the fact that when funding is required, say, for stadium improvements, that money is given voluntarily. When other teams need a stadium upgrade, it’s taxpayers that usually foot the bill, whether they’re fans or not.

City Market

Over a decade ago, Burlington was in the position of looking for a new grocery store to serve the downtown area. While many folks wanted a chain grocery such as Shaw’s or Hannaford, others called for a more unique vision. City Market eventually won out, of course. The Market differs from its’ corporate counter-parts in a few ways: firstly, it offers a wealth of locally-produced food, which supports Vermont’s farming communities. Second, it is a community-owned store, with over 7,000 members owning a share of the profits. As a member, you receive discounts on store purchases, but volunteering at the Co-Op guarantees even better discounts: 7% for two hours worked a month, and $12 for four. Once a year, a share of the profits are given back to you, depending on how much money you spent and how profitable the Market was. Decisions are decided by a board that is made up of community members. Every aspect of the market is community-owned. What could be more important than to have control over your community’s source of food?

Co-ops and other forms of community ownership are not without their flaws. Since board members are elected, decisions can occasionally be hard to reach, as is the case in any democratically-run institution. However, with more of a vested interest in a community, co-ops usually have the well-being of that community as a priority. Moreover, they suffer less from the heavy-handed top-down structure of traditional businesses and institutions, and capital is more equitably distributed. In an age in which CEOs and others at the top of companies regularly receive compensation many, many hundreds of times percent higher than employees lower on the totem poll, it’s easy to see why a more cooperative approach is appealing. There is also something appealing in the concept of local ownership—in the case of City Market, for example, the powers that be are members of our own community, and not strangers sitting in offices out of state or even out of country.

So collective ownership, as an economic concept, isn’t as foreign as many today might make it out to be. Besides libraries and public education, as mentioned above, other institutions that fall under the umbrella of services we collectively pay for, vote on, and share the benefits of include parks, roads and transportation infrastructure, energy utilities, hospitals, police forces, firemen, and the military. It is possible, I believe, for a company, a sports team, a housing development, and a grocery store to both make money, share earnings in a more collective manner, reach decisions democratically (we certainly abide that principle when it comes to government—so why are we so quick to bemoan it when it comes to economics?), and operate with the interest of the community they serve as a priority. In an age in which terms like “socialism” are used by our politicians with such negativity, they would perhaps do well to open their eyes to the myriad ways we actually make use of both local and national collective ownership in this country.

Buy Local Resource Guide and Coupon Book

I’d seen the little book on display at New Moon Cafe in Burlington, where I’ve been doing a lot of my web surfing and blog writing recently. For someone with my interests, a book titled “BUY LOCAL,” in big, blue letters, was quick to catch my eye. Brought to us by Local First Vermont, whose mission is to “preserve and enhance the economic, human, and natural vitality of Vermont communities by promoting the importance of purchasing from locally owned independent businesses,” the 2011-2012 edition of this Buy Local guide makes for both an informative read for anyone interested in the buy local movement, and, more importantly, a coupon book any Vermonter can’t be without. 

While waiting in line to place my order, I couldn’t help but find myself thumbing through the book. (I should admit that on days I found myself struggling for inspiration on a blog topic, the book often came in particularly handy).  It begins with a colorful step-by-step guide outlining why it’s a good idea to buy local. While it doesn’t delve too deeply into the specifics, it does offer a reminder on why buying local is better for our economy, our employees, our food, and our culture. It also serves as a great introduction to anyone unfamiliar with the buy-local movement: for those convinced that it’s just the more expensive, presumably elitist version of consumerism, this guide makes a few great points on why, in the long run, spending your money locally is healthier for your community and your economy.

The book quickly moves on to a middle section full of information on individual local businesses, Vermont destinations, farmers’ markets, and Vermont non-profits. Finally, the guide wraps up with about eighty pages worth of coupons to local businesses state-wide. These pages, full of free coffees (August First Bakery, among others), free salads (American Flatbread), free socks (Outdoor Gear Exchange), free demos (Ridin’ High), and tons of other discounts and special offers, is no doubt the best resource for buying local I’ve yet come across.

Convinced, I finally parted with the $10 and took my book home. The next day, I enjoyed 10% off my breakfast at Duino! (Duende) as I poured over the pages of coupons, potentially worth hundreds of dollars in savings to businesses, restaurants, and retailers throughout the state.

And, as the cashier pointed out when I purchased the book, it makes for a great gift, whether the recipient considers themselves a localvore or not. So get your Buy Local Resource Guide today. You’ll be supporting Vermont when you do.

Jeremy Dostie inside Dostie Bros. Frame Shop, 308 Pine Street, Burlington

I’ve been blogging for a few months now on the importance of supporting a local economy. Since then, I’ve touched on many topics, but realized I had yet to actually get outintomy local economy and talk one-on-one with a business owner. With that in mind, I found myself sitting down with Jeremy Dostie, co-owner of the new Dostie Bros. Frame Shop.

Located in the heart of Burlington’s South End Arts District, my first impression of the shop, with its stone walls, exposed wood beams, floor-to-ceiling frames, and local artwork, was that it successfully combined a rustic, authentic feel with a commitment to the art community that it served. Behind a glass window I could see the workshop where the framing was actually done. And the fact that customers were invited to sit at a table rather than haggle it out over a cash register seemed to speak to the brothers’ particular business philosophy.

I’ve known Alex for a few years now. A prominent figure in the Burlington arts community, I’ve seen his work time and again, worked with him in my years at The Shelburne Art Center, and have shown my own art courtesy Art’s Alive, a non-profit for which he sits on the board. Alex wasn’t available, however, but I was more than happy to sit down with Jeremy to get his take on their burgeoning business.

So to start, what made you want to open a frame shop?

My brother Alex had been working for another frame shop in the Burlington area for about ten years and in that time learned all the ins and outs of the business. Eventually, he wanted to move beyond being an employee for someone else and was confident that he could open up and run his own shop.

For me, I’d worked as a flood-map analyst since graduating college, but work started drying up a few years ago. I decided it was time to shift careers. The timing and opportunity just made a lot of sense.

So why Burlington?

We both grew up near here and we have a lot of connections. When you’re opening a business, connections can be crucial to success.

Besides owning one yourself, why do you think it is important to support local businesses?

I believe it’s important to keep money here in our economy, and I don’t like watching money go out of state or out of country in support of a chain store. Local businesses also tend to support one another. We all want to see each other succeed. That’s a big part of why we love being on Pine Street. Many of the businesses are locally owned, and for the most part strongly supportive of one another.

What sets you apart as a frame shop?

Our ties to the arts community are pretty strong, and besides making frames, we also operate as a gallery. Right now we’re showing works by Vermont artists including Adrian Tans, Kristen L’Esperance, Brooke Monte, and Sage Tucker-Ketcham.

In terms of framing, what truly sets us apart is that we custom mill many frames of our own design as well as frames milled by other Burlington artisans, something you don’t find very often. And those we don’t make ourselves are either American made, or produced in Canada, France or Italy.

We’re definitely headed in a green direction, in that we use a lot of recycled goods to create our frames. Having wood from ReSource across the street available to us is pretty perfect. Alex and I also like to peruse garage sales where we’ll find old vintage frames and fix them up. Artists in particular like that because we can offer one-of-a-kind frames at a very reasonable price.

So that’s our niche: custom frames made from green or recycled materials, eco-friendly North American and European made lines. You won’t find frames made in China in our shop for much longer, we are trying to cull those from our selection as much as possible.

What made you want to get involved with LocalvoreToday.com?

We were familiar with the daily deal business model and wanted to try it out for our own business. We offered a deal through JumpOnIt, and had a profitable experience. But once we were introduced to LocalvoreToday.com, we much preferred the idea of working with another local business that itself had a commitment to supporting a local economy. It’s keeping in line with our ethos as a local, green business.

“A land full of places that are not worth caring about will soon be a nation and a way of life that is not worth defending.” James Howard Kunstler, The Geography of Nowhere (1993)

In his 1993 book, James Howard Kunster argues that the landscape of suburban sprawl we have constructed in the U.S. has had serious consequences for us as a society and as a nation. Kunstler, one the premier critics of suburbia, makes the case that our choices have impacted us in unforeseen negative ways, including economically, socially, and spiritually. Indeed, a trip across much of the United States will reveal a uniformity of infrastructure in which the same retailers, restaurants, and stores occupy the same stripmalls whether you’re in Kansas or California. Our communities have been designed around the convenience of the car, with other forms of transportation, including walking, biking, and even public transit difficult or unfeasible options in many areas. Eighty percent of everything ever built in America has been built since the end of World War II, according to The Geography of Nowhere. And what began with the convenience and inguinity of, for example, drive-through burger joints in the 1950s, gradually developed into the standard of meals eaten alone, behind the wheel, accompanied by record-breaking obesity rates and a culture usurped by corporate branding and uniformity.

But for many Americans, we know no other way. In towns and cities across the U.S., character has been sacrificed for convenience. Main streets have given way to large complexes of big-box stores, the likes of which you can find anywhere you go. I think of my grandparents when I write about this. Having narrowed the list of restaurants they enjoy frequeting to a handfull of chains, they now keep a map dotted with the East Coast locations of Cracker Barrels in their glove compartment. This way, when they go on long trips, they know exactly where to eat. The joy of trying something new, even if it’s just breakfast, has been dumped for the convenience of eating the same thing regardless of location. This is a sad development for Americans; it is boring and senseless on the one hand, and unsustainable on the other.

The fact that a lot of these critiques do not apply to Vermont is part of what makes it so special. The sprawl in suburban Cleveland may leave a lot to be desired, but Vermont benefits from a unique foresight in matters relating to development. Burlington stands as a prime example of a city built around the pedestrian, with Church Street in particular catering to those of us on foot instead of those of us behind the wheel. And as most people in the area can attest to, having the heart of a city revolve around a pedestrian marketplace lends much to our city’s unique character. There are the locals, the neighbors, and the friends you run into on a walk down the street; there are the artists, food vendors, and street performers you can’t find anywhere else. Harvard economist Edward Glaeser makes the case in his book Triumph of the City that cities such as Burlington are successful because of a concept called “proximity”: they bring people into contact, enabling them to interact in rich, unexpected, and productive ways. And for a city as small as Burlington, the fact that you are all the more likely to benefit from proximity because of our largely pedestrian infrastructure speaks to its success in fostering a strong community.

So in the age of sprawl, we are fortunate to live in a state without billboards, a place where character trumps uniformity. Vermont is special because it is most certainly a place worth defending.

The fate of newspapers may certainly be in question, but the fact that news needs to be reported on is not. While The Burlington Free Press, owned by Gannett Publishing  since 2008, has cut its editorial staff in recent years, other local papers have continued to see strong support in their communities. SevenDays is still running strong, and for many is the go-to paper for local news, opinion, and calendar listings. Alternative papers like Vermont Commons offer Vermonters a different take on the politics and the economics of our day, and student-run papers such as the Vermont Cynic continue to flourish with wide readership on campus and beyond.

I’m particularly interested in the Vermont Cynic because I think it is a great example of a successful university newspaper. Having won the Associate Collegiate Press’ Newspaper Pacemaker Award in 2011—the college newspaper version of the Pulitzer Prize—the Cynic has proven itself to be a serious paper in its own right. And while those of us in the post-collegiate world may be too quick to forget this little newspaper, I think it’s important to give it another look.

I’m reminded of my own days as a UVM student, reading every new issue of the Cynic between classes while I reclined on one of the many couches in the Billings Student Center (this was before the days of the Davis Center). I remember writing a letter to the editor or two, seeing them immediately published, and the feedback I received from them. At a conference on alternative energy, for example, a man pulled me aside to let me know what “hope” my letter on peak oil gave him—he didn’t realize that anyone under the age of forty even knew what that term meant. It was a great feeling to have had my letters published, even if only in a college newspaper, and to have someone respond so encouragingly to my ideas.

College newspapers are important because they are largely unfiltered. It is from the persepctive of the young, unfiltered by years of cynisism, that light is often shed on some of the more striking realities that others usually miss. People in their late teens and early twenties tend to be bolder in their opinions, and willing to take a stand for what they believe. Moreover, in a world in which the older and well-established are often the loudest voices in a community, it is important to have a forum for the smaller voices among us to be heard. The Cynic provides just such a forum.

So I encourage you to take a moment to seek out a Cynic and give it a read. It will offer you another viewpoint. And while it can sometimes feel that what’s going on up the hill is a world away from those of us who are long-term Burlington residents, it can do nothing but strengthen local ties to keep in touch with the news, thoughts, and opinions offered by newspapers like The Cynic.

There’s something eerie about the images in the news, about the juxtaposition of Occupy protesters and what we could assume to be their ideological counter-parts, the Black Friday shoppers. While one week we see a UC Davis police officer showering protesting students with pepper-spray, the next we see a frantic Walmart shopper spraying folks in much the same way over cheap deals on electronics. While at the same time we watch frenzied protesters forcibly evicted from parks and encampments, we see hoards of American shoppers fighting get their hands on holiday deals at Walmarts and Targets nationwide.

It makes me wonder if these two groups of people have anything in common, if there is any overlap. I would imagine for the Occupy folks, it must be disheartening and frustrating to see Americans spend their hard-earned money in big box stores, consumed with getting the best prices on stuff they really don’t need, and all of this against the backdrop of an economy in which the middle class is dying, money is being funneled to the super-wealthy, and the trajectory of our nation points more and more to a corporate oligarchy. To the Black Friday shoppers, meanwhile, the Occupy protesters must seem like a bunch of wet blankets—albiet scruffy, unshowered wet blankets. After all, shopping can, believe it or not, be a lot of fun. And getting great gifts for friends and loved ones makes you feel good.

So where is the middle ground on this one issue, the idea of holiday consumption?

While some protest the very idea of the over-the-top spending of the holiday season—as I write this, a man standing outside Uncommon Grounds holds a sign reading “Abolish Money”—others take a more nuanced view. Shopping can be entertaining. Getting gifts for people is enjoyable. But it doesn’t have to be mindless—you can be take part in the holiday shopping and be mindful of your spending at the same time. Because in the midst of all this shopping, it’s important to remember to buy local, too. With that in mind, businesses, non-profits, and concerned citizens have set up alternatives to Black Friday around the country in an effort to get consumers to remember their local retailers.

Small Business Saturday began in 2007 as an alternative to Black Friday and Cyber Monday. This campaign promotes the idea of spending your money locally following the excesses of Black Friday, which typically involve hoards of shoppers crowding big box retailers in search of bargains. This campaign, while at its core seems to be something we can all get behind, has origins that are questionable to some folks in the buy local movement, as it was started by American Express. Regardless, Small Business Saturday has been promoted by the 3/50 Project, a campaign which exists to “(Save) the brick and mortars our nation is built on.” The 3/50 project asks fans to think of three local businesses they would miss were they to close their doors, and to dedicate $50 a month to spend locally. They focus their attention on the fact that money spent locally is reinvested in the community at higher rates than money spent in national chains, a concept I’ve talked about at length in this blog. And around the holidays, when consumer spending is at an all-time high, it’s that much more important to spend your money wisely.

Meanwhile, Plaid Friday, a similar campaign, “celebrates the diversity and creativity of independent businesses.” This California-based group encourages shoppers to wear plaid as they frequent local shops in the Oakland and Bay areas. There’s no question that local businesses often have a level of creativity in their merchandise that national retailers lack. Whether its buying holiday ornaments hand-made by artists or gift certificates to local restaurants, buying local ensures a level of uniqueness in a gift that you’re unlikely to find elsewhere.

Of course, it’s important not to feel guilty about not always being able to shop locally. I’m the first to admit that sometimes the gift you want at a price that’s affordable may not be found at a local retailer—and believe it or not, many of 99% people and folks of similar political views will undoubtedly be frequenting chains when necessary this holiday season. But when it’s an option, spend your money locally. We’re lucky in Vermont because we have so many local options. So we don’t have to go to extremes—we don’t have to buy local exclusively, and we certainly don’t have to abolish money. But we should make efforts to shop smart, if for no other reason than to keep our communities and local economies healthy and vibrant this holiday season. It is in that idea, perhaps, we can find the middle ground.

A few days ago, a group of folks in Cleveland banded together to make a point. Organizing a cash mob via Facebook and Twitter, they descended on a locally-owned bookstore with $20 bills in hand, inundating the shop with sales and bringing attention to a community business that they felt gave a lot back.

You’re probably familiar with the concept of a flash mob, in which a group of people utilizing social media mob a location—a train station, an airport, a busy plaza—and perform a wacky pre-choreographed dance routine. Now, this idea has found a new, more utilitarian evolution, in the concept of the cash mob.

Similar cash mobs have been organized in other cities around the U.S., and are quickly spreading to other countries. The point of these spontaneous outpourings of money are to show support for community-owned businesses, the ones who keep money local, have a vested interest in the community, and can more directly respond to the needs of the people they serve. These cash mobs send a message that small businesses are important to locals, and that despite many of the legitimate grievances of, for example, the Occupy Movement, we still have the choice of where to spend our money in this country, and we should use it.

But for the unconvinced, why is local a better option? The point is to look beyond what’s on the surface, such as your preference for the taste of a McDonald’s burger over a Vermont Pub & Brewery burger. One needs to look at the bigger issues at hand, at the ultimate sustainability of local business, and the subtle and sometimes less-than-subtle ways in which a community is impacted by consumer choice.

Various studies have shown strong evidence that businesses rooted in a local economy better serve their communities in a number of ways. One such study, which compared local businesses to national chains in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood, found that $100 spent at a local independent business created an average of $68 in local economic activity, while the same $100 at a non-local retailer generated only $43 worth of local impact. Thus the square footage of local vs. national (or international) chain could be measured to indicate money kept in the community or funneled out to outside places. These results should intuitively make sense; when all aspects of business are local, money is kept in-state. And local businesses typically like to support one another, meaning that a restaurant will often make the effort to buy local produce when available and cost-effective; the same would likely never be true of a chain restaurant, whose buying policies are determined in offices far away.

But, the argument goes, national chains, retailers, and big-box stores generate jobs. This is the exact argument going on now in my parent’s town of Hinesburg, Vermont. Lantmans, the decades-old, locally-owned grocery store, is being replaced by a Hannafords. I’ve heard the arguments on both sides for and against this development. And there are many reasons why Hannafords may not be a great idea, but pro-Hannafords folks seem to have their convictions firmly rooted in the idea that the new store will generate jobs for the town. However, studies have found that big-box stores typicallyreduce average wages in any given region; beyond that, because other local businesses are often driven out, towns suffer from a lack of jobs and tax revenues as a result. Moreover, the jobs created are often of the entry-level, minimum wage variety; the lawyers, graphic designers, and various positions of decision-makers are employed out of state or even out of country. The same is often not true of local businesses.

So why the cash-mob? We are at an interesting point in America, in which many communities still have the benefit of local businesses. But across the country the locals are too often loosing out to the national chains. We have the option as consumers to spend our money wisely, and what better show of support than to descend on that favorite bookseller, that local thrift-store, or that struggling record shop en masse with money in hand?

There’s no disputing that humans are social animals, although these days we often don’t get enough social interaction. For those fortunate enough to live in communities with close networks of friends, neighbors, and relatives, the benefits to physical and mental health can be astonishing. Most of us intuitively know that having strong social ties are a good thing, but a growing body of research has shown that the correlation between overall mental and physical health and feeling connected with friends, family, and neighbors is much stronger than one would think. The same is true on a community level. Communities with strong social ties often report less crime, more civic engagement, and higher property values, to name a few of the benefits.

But this day in age, it’s difficult for people in many communities to know how to foster that sense of connection. Our time is too often taken up by activities that are contrary to fostering social engagement, including driving, eating alone (and often in our cars), and watching t.v. In the age of Facebook, ironically, Americans report having only two close friends, a drop from three in 1985. And Americans report consistantly that they are less happy–thanks in large part to decreased social capital. Even for folks who recognize the problems with these declines, it can often be diffiult to find a resource for bringing folks together.

That’s where a website like Front Porch Forum becomes important. Founded in 2006 by husband and wife team Valerie and Michael Wood-Lewis, FrontPorch Forum began as a way to connect people in their Five Sisters neighborhood in Burlington. Five years later, more than 50% of Burlington residents report using the service.  According to founder Michael Wood-Lewis: “FPF members talk about feeling an increased sense of community ownership. A survey found that 45% of respondents reported speaking up or getting involved on any public or policy issue as a result of subscribing to Front Porch Forum.”

I myself had used FPF only in a work-related capacity, so I was eager to try it out on my own time. After typing in my street address, I was welcomed into the Buell Neighbohood Forum with the following stats: this forum began on August 9^th, 2006, currently has 559 members, serves 750 households, and has had 777 messages posted since it began.

Each “issue” of FPF posts roughly every three days, with moderators involved in the process. In that way, FPF differs from a service like Craigslist in that it does not consist of anonymous posters publishing information over the internet; rather, it is the full names of people in my community posting information specific to my neighborhood. On my first tour through FPF, I was surprised to see the amount of postings dedicated to civic matters that I otherwise may have been unaware of. I also quickly learned that a meeting was being held—along with a free public dinner—to discuss plans to rebuild a recently burned-down building in my neighborhood.

For all the great qualities of Facebook, with which I can connect to distant friends and acquaintances from a world away, FPF quickly proved its affectiveness at fostering true community engagement. And in a world in which real social connections seem harder to come by, a service like Front Porch Forum may be increasingly important.

Have the holidays started early this year? The rule of thumb in years past has always been that the day after Thanksgiving officially commences the start of the holiday season. It’s a seasonal tradition marked by a day affectionately known as Black Friday. This made some amount of sense, time-wise; it’s the end of November, and you have a month to prepare for Christmas (or whatever gift-given occasion you may celebrate in December). Also, holiday-wise, Thanksgiving is a natural precursor to Christmas; it is a holiday made for gorging yourself on food with family and friends, being thankful for what you have, and it is second only to Christmas in the number of movies made about it.

So it was with shock that I witnessed my first Christmas commercial (I think it was for Ebay) a few days before Halloween. I could have dismissed this as a fluke, if not for the Christmas music I heard playing in the mall a week ago—while I was looking for accessories to my Halloween costume. Now that it’s two days past Halloween—and still more than three weeks away until Thanksgiving—the holiday advertising seems to be gearing up in full-swing, and this when we’ve barely had time to throw away the rotting corpses of our jack-o-lanterns (I usually just wait for mine to disintegrate to a pile of orange mush on my porch—that’s my signal it’s time for the holidays).

Do you know how mind-boggling it can be to see an ad for Christmas during a commercial break for a 24-hour Halloween movie marathon? I, personally, don’t want to be reminded of gift-giving with family and friends in between scenes of Ash chainsawing his way through armies of the Evil Dead. Apparently Halloween isn’t profitable enough, so we’re just going to skip over it now and stretch the holiday shopping out for three months. That’s a quarter of a year we’re reminded by television, the internet, radio, print, and every other media force to indulge in reckless weeks of non-stop shopping and unabashed consumerism.

What I find particularly interesting is the lengths to which advertisers hope to shape the way we celebrate our major cultural events. Of course, they’ve always done this—they’ve even invented cultural events for us to celebrate. But this is the first time in memory that I’ve seen the push for holiday shopping begin so early, and with a deliberate attempt to get us into Christmas-mode before we’ve even celebrated Halloween—which, holiday-wise, is in no way compatible with Christmas.

It’s an influence I, for one, don’t love having in my life. There are lots of tangible, real-world reasons to be a localvore, but there are also the subtle, less discernible ways in which spending your money locally is so appealing. There’s something special about buying a thing that is unique and perhaps hand-made for a person you love. It also means that you’re supporting local artisans and businesses, instead of filling the coffers of big business that would have you believe the holidays start sometime in mid-to-late October.

It’s this somewhat insidious attitude, painted over with a smile and a shrug from big business, that I find so unpalatable. Of course profits are the bottom line; if tweaking the calendar a little to get people to spend more money more quickly is how you pull in profits, so be it. But there’s this unique facet to capitalism which calls for continual growth—an impossibility, truly, in a finite world with finite resources, and something I’ll get into more in future blogs. Under the law of continual growth, your goal as a business is generally to be more profitable this quarter over the last. Or, as the case may be, more profitable in the 2011 holiday season over the 2010 one. The question is, how is that to be sustained? It’s sustained, it would seem, by pushing the holiday season forward a few weeks.

I, for one, don’t buy it.