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ONE MAN’S JUNK

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.

—Helen Keller

When Andre and I got engaged and started preparing for marriage, our community was extremely excited and encouraging. For some reason, all our married friends wanted to get together and have a meal with us. We soon understood that what they really wanted was to sit us down and give marriage advice. If you’re reading this and are one of the couples that we had dinner with before we were married, thanks for the advice (it’s been ten incredible years). There is always something special about sitting around a table and eating food together. Having a meal with friends physically fills you up, emotionally encourages your passions, spiritually lifts your soul, and naturally fuels the desire for laughter.

Coming straight out of college, a good meal and some valuable advice was a great engagement gift! But with all these wonderful opportunities for connection and advice, the extremely practical (and maybe opportunistic) part of me wondered what else we might gain from these great connections. I know that sounds like a very selfish statement, and it is. We had a dilemma: in just a couple of months we would be moving from our college dorm rooms to an apartment in Chicago, and we had nothing to move. We owned no furniture. So I came up with an idea to solve this problem.

Here’s my theory: I believe all Americans with homes have a piece of furniture that they hate; all they need is for someone to take it away, and they will freely offer it up. My theory goes a step further: I believe that the family will cheer you on as you carry it away, as if a battle has finally been won among them and that ugly end table. They are dying for someone to take it off their hands. Every family has something in their home that they do not want, but for some reason it’s still sitting in the living room or taking up space in the basement. Is my theory correct?

The beginnings of this theory started in high school. Once, we played this neighborhood scavenger hunt game with some friends—perhaps you’ve heard of it? Each team starts with a toothpick and a time frame for how long the game will last—usually about two hours. We went door to door through our neighborhood, hoping complete strangers would actually open the door. Then we asked them if they would like to make a “trade up.” Would they give us something in their home for something that was in our hands? The winner at the end of the game is the person with the biggest and best thing. It’s all, as they say, in “the power of the ask,” which also happens to be one of my favorite phrases. The worst someone could do was say no. We asked them, “What would you trade us for a toothpick?” And it surprised us all how quickly the game progressed toward much larger items.

Let’s play the game out to give you a glimpse of the progression. A toothpick might turn into a can of soup or a box of macaroni and cheese. It quickly escalates to a candle or an old beach towel. Maybe you get lucky and get an obscure painting from someone’s basement or a necklace that someone doesn’t like anymore. By the end of the two hours, friends run back to the starting location with the most surprised faces as they carry back a couch, a bag of golf clubs, a Ping-Pong table, or a lawn mower. There is a convergence of groups running down the street, trying to carry some big things together while dodging oncoming cars and barking dogs. One time when we played, a team returned with one of those mosquito zappers that emits a radiant blue haze of light. Where do you even buy one of those?1

Years later, I heard this game played over the radio in Atlanta when the morning team of The Bert Show on Q100 played it with hundreds and thousands of morning listeners. They called the game “Tradio.” They wanted to see if they could get a physical house by the end of the game. People would call in and trade up accordingly.2 By the time I had signed off, they had acquired both a hot tub and a horse. It is truly amazing to see what you can accumulate in such a short time. Once again, it seems that most of us have much more stuff than we actually use, need, or want. We seem to always be looking for a way to “trade up” from what we have, to get something better. Bigger. Faster. Stronger. We want more.

So back to our engagement—Andre and I would go to dinner after dinner, and at the end of the conversation our friends and mentors would ask us, “Is there anything that we can do for you? Just let us know.” Most people wouldn’t dream of actually asking for something, given the reality that dinner was already a gift—but not me. Remember my favorite phrase, “the power of the ask”? I would look at Andre, and she would glare at me, full of dread, and roll her eyes.

“Well, we have just graduated from college and don’t have a thing for our new apartment,” I began. “There is a theory that I have … Do you have any furniture in your home that you are trying to get rid of? Well, we don’t have anything for our new apartment, so we would love to take it off your hands.”

As you can imagine, Andre’s face would go beet red, and she would start to sink farther down into her seat.

Though it was embarrassing, my theory worked. By the time we moved into our apartment, we had two couches, three side tables, a brand-new queen bed with the head and foot boards, a washer and dryer, a couple of lamps, and a bookshelf.

I think I was told no only once.

Most people thought my theory was true. It became a great laugh over and over again. The couple sitting with us would instantly nod their heads, thinking of the exact piece of furniture they needed to get rid of from their home. And for the record, we still have that bookshelf in our living room and sleep in our free bed.

I HAVE EXCESS

What this little theory taught me was that many people have excess. Excess is that thing that we could give away today, and it wouldn’t change a single aspect of our tomorrow. Excess is more than what we need—and in turn it may be exactly what someone else needs. Anything more than enough is excess. Excess is margin. Excess is more than enough.

We have an uncanny ability to accumulate things that are not essential to living, yet we lack the practice of releasing the acquired junk when it no longer serves a purpose. I am no different. I have gone from begging furniture off my friends to having a houseful of things I could give to a newly engaged couple trying to fill an apartment. While I may struggle to define what is enough for me, one thing is sure:

I have more than enough.

I have more than I need in numerous categories: food, clothing, shelter, toys, books, blankets, TV channels, and maybe even friends.

I WANT MORE

When John D. Rockefeller was asked, “What is enough?” Rockefeller’s reply was, “Just a little bit more.”

Rockefeller was one of the wealthiest men in history. So why would he say this? While I can’t relate to Rockefeller’s wealth, I can relate to Rockefeller’s desire. He had exponentially more zeros in his bank account than the rest of us could ever dream of having. Yet our struggle is the same. He wanted more, and I want more. My desires don’t end easily. I can’t keep up with others. Others have the new technological gadget that is solving all of life’s problems, or a big enough car that fits everything they need for a long road trip. They have a cleaning service, HBO, or a pool. Others have more friends on Facebook, season tickets, or that cool boat for weekend excursions. They have more goodies than me. They have stuff that I want. They have more. Bill McKibben, in his book Deep Economy,3 taught me that while we desire more, we instinctively know that more is not always better. Something deep inside us knows that money and even the stuff that money buys does not guarantee happiness, yet I still want just a little more.

What is enough, and what is excess?

Where do I draw a line?

How do I draw a line?

When it comes to drawing lines, I have come to the stark realization that I probably will not sell my possessions and run the streets naked like St. Francis of Assisi did all those years ago. I won’t leave my family and join a religious society, donating all I have to nurse the dying, like Mother Theresa did. I probably won’t make a radical change in my appearance and start sewing my own clothes like Shane Claiborne and the Simple Way4 in Philadelphia. As much as I respect these great leaders’ stories as radical and admirable, I am not them. I am me.

I enjoy technological advancements. I get excited to try out a new restaurant. I don’t live as simply as some. My life is unusually advantaged compared to the world and especially compared to my neighbor Clarence. I would assume that many reading this book can probably relate more to me than to Assisi or Claiborne. Chances are, you have more than enough, like I do. We acquired enough education that we are literate and value reading as a way to continue our education even without outside requirements. Not only do we know how to read, we earn enough expendable income to buy this book. We possess enough free time to sit quietly and read the book in a comfortable chair with a fluffy pillow to one side of our back. Our chair is probably sitting in a room that is climate-controlled in some way. This room is in a building with a roof, floor, and walls, and most likely this room has multiple smoke detectors to alert us of potential danger. This building is surrounded by a manicured yard with some form of transportation sitting steps away from the front door to take us wherever we want to go, whenever we want to go there. Given these simple categories, you and I probably have more in common than we might have otherwise realized. We probably have more than we need.

Enough already.

Many of us don’t want our stories to end with just an understanding that we have been given much. We want to do more with what we have; we just don’t know how to combat a culture that defines so much of what we think we need. In contrast to the American idea of increasing the monetary assets in our lives, I believe we also desire to increase our portfolio of generosity. Giving to the needs of people always results in a greater equation of life worth.

More than ever, people want to give. We want to give to others that are in great need, but too often we are paralyzed by our own possessions that cripple our ability to begin our journey toward generosity. Our excess has taken away eyes to see where there is need and how we can help. We have become blind toward need, resulting in our hands and feet becoming paralyzed toward the actionable pursuit of giving.

I NEED TO SEE NEED

One of the reasons we fail to see the connections between what we have and what others need is simple geography. Our communities and culture have sheltered our lives away from direct contact with the needs of others. For example, in our own homes we have designed our lives away from community. We build fences around our backyards to separate ourselves from our neighbors. We park our cars in garages, which allows us to individually walk directly into our homes without any interaction with people on our street. We even set up passwords on our wireless networks to limit outside use of our Internet access.

On an even larger scale, developers build cities and design streets to direct drivers toward desirable places that increase the local economy and shelter people from lower-income locations. This is a historical truth to the design in my city, Atlanta, where leaders implemented a street-sweeping initiative prior to the 1996 Olympics to sweep away any signs of homelessness. This measure translated into simply arresting the homeless to make the city appear clean and shiny to tourists and the cameras of the Olympic coverage. This is a very common strategy in cities trying to portray an image to the global camera.

These strategies focus on what others see looking in from the outside and are aimed at developing the economy, which is a good thing for the perception of the city and job creation. But these strategies also result in separating the affluent from the hurts and struggles that exist in all our communities. Unfortunately, the strategies that separate us from the suffering in our communities also create calloused hearts closed to issues of injustice, lacking empathy. Needs still exist but are masked or not seen by walls of segmentation.

When Clarence rang my doorbell that first day, he touched a button into my soul that had not previously been revealed. Suddenly right on my front porch I saw my neighbor and his need in stark contrast to my life and excess. In retrospect, that was exactly what I needed. I believe we can all take a lesson from Clarence and create some bridges by walking across some streets to meet our neighbors, both literally and figuratively. And as we see the needs of others up close, we may see exactly where our excess can be best used to help someone else.

A GENERATION OF GENEROSITY

I believe that deep down we are all generous people, but that most of us just do not get the opportunity to see where our generosity can help others. We need to see opportunities of great need to engage in generosity.

I experienced this personally in 2005. It started with a nightmare. I dreamed of a boy about eight years old, four feet tall, no shirt—only ripped up, mud-stained pants—with a big little belly. I still can’t remember what his face looked like. It was like a Hype Williams music video where he focuses on the sun gleaming around the product he wants you to see. In my dream, suddenly the angle of the sun moved, and an empty glass appeared. The boy leaned down to fill the glass with water again, and the shot panned back in a cinematic style. I watched the boy dip the glass into a filthy puddle on a mud street. He took another drink. I woke up.

It was 3:27 in the morning. I was sweating. I went to the kitchen, filled up a glass of ice water from my refrigerator door, and took a drink. I woke Andre up. She told me I needed to do something about the dream. It seemed ridiculous to do something instantly after a dream, but sometimes radical ideas need people to make them come to life.

That nightmare birthed in me a responsibility to educate others on the need for clean water and how easy it was to solve this problem. I shared the idea with my good friend Gabe Lyons, who gave it legs. We decided to launch the idea of bringing clean water to Rwanda at an event called Catalyst that I have led creatively for eight years. Catalyst gathers thousands of young leaders together every year, and it creates a platform to make significant cultural change across the nation. We asked a question: what would happen if we educated this community and gave them an opportunity to respond? We did this in 2005, before clean water became a sexy cause. Very few people knew of the need. As they entered Catalyst the first morning, every person was given a bottle of water: no explanation, no tag, no branding, no cost—just pure clean water. Then we shared the story of the need. We take clean water for granted in America. The reality is that if there were clean water in developing countries today, sickness and illnesses would be cut literally in half. The leaders responded by giving $134,000 in ten minutes—a drop in the bucket.

In the spring of 2006, a group of fifteen of us went to Rwanda to report on the first wells that had been dug since that ten-minute offering. That was one of the proudest and most humbling moments of my life. We saw how the simplest modern convenience changed the health and hope of an entire village. It was such a simple solution, yet it changed a village forever. I learned very quickly that a small offering has the ability to change a society.

We came home and were humbled by how many lives were changed and how little we did to make such a substantial difference for thousands of people in Rwanda. The money kept coming in the mail. It was beyond anything I could have ever dreamed. Thirty kids made beautiful artwork on ceramic pitchers they sold on eBay. A church in Alabama had a free-will offering on a Sunday morning that totaled seventy thousand dollars. A coffee shop in Orlando found a matching donor for a fund-raiser at their business and raised twelve thousand dollars. Three years later, we had raised nearly two million dollars toward clean water in Rwanda.

Through this project, I learned that this generation cares about others. When someone is suffering, we want to be the people to end injustice. When others are hurting, we want to help. Our generation is generous; we want to give. If our generation gets the opportunity to see the need, we want to change the situation and join in offering redemption to the brokenness.

OUR EXCESS CAN ADDRESS NEEDS

A street sweep took on a whole new meaning for me the first time I visited the Kibera Slums in Nairobi, Kenya. I am no expert on the complexities of Kibera. It’s difficult to nail down how many people live in this small space, but many people explain it as roughly one million people living within one square mile. It’s located directly next to downtown Nairobi, right in the heart of the city, and you will find small shack upon shack upon shack that these loving people call their homes. These homes are mostly made of tin and sit under the biggest high-rises in the nation. It’s a great juxtaposition of buildings. The contrasting structures are a memorable image to anyone who has experienced it. My wife, Andre, worked at Kibera for a summer with a clinic, serving critical medical needs and giving vaccinations and much-needed treatments to victims of HIV. She introduced me to this neighborhood. Many Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) do amazing work to serve the needs of Kibera, but the solutions are complex, and it continues to be a place of great need and confusion. And one conversation I had on that trip forever changed how I saw the world.

When I first arrived and walked around the city, my initial thought was that someone simply needed to clean the streets and introduce a new standard of living—at least in an environmental context—just like Mayor Rudy Giuliani changed the streets of New York by refusing to let vandalism and trash define the city.5 Granted, the success of this philosophy is debated continuously. But I saw a need and felt compelled to look for a solution. Andre quickly dismissed my suggestion with a statement that changed the way I look at both trash and the complexity of Kibera.

She said, “These people rely on the trash for economy. These creative friends of mine make things out of what we call trash and sell the products for income. If we take away the trash, we are taking away their dignity and opportunity. This trash is a lifeline and hope in the midst of suffering. What we see as trash, they see as an essential material that may end their hunger. The trash creates something to make. The trash creates jobs. The trash provides money. The trash is their canvas for art.”

I didn’t suggest another solution the rest of my time at Kibera. My simplified solutions were so elementary compared to the compounding challenges that exist. As you can see, I was an uneducated person as it relates to the suffering of these people. I had never experienced this place before, but my eyes were opened. Andre had relationships with real people in this important place. She’d been using her “excess”—her knowledge of basic medical care—to serve those in need. By spending time in Kibera and making friends, she developed a deep respect for the people and their suffering. She set the example for me to stop offering quick answers and choose instead to listen to the people in the community. Though I felt overwhelmed by layer upon layer of challenges that her friends faced, my admiration for them grew every day.

Have you ever considered that one person’s trash may create hope and opportunity for another person?

Social entrepreneurs all over the world are creating a better environment by cleaning up what is excess and turning it into new creations, and in some of the developing countries this innovation is leading our world. We experienced the story of trash to beauty as we went house to house in the trading-up game, and we felt it personally when friends gave us furniture during our engagement. But in Kibera, for the first time we met people who relied on trash for their livelihood. Our excess can make a difference, but we first have to see need in our society and opportunity for all people. When we see need, we are also introduced to opportunity—opportunity to understand our excess more fully.

ONE QUESTION CHANGES EVERYTHING

The sad truth is that while others fight for survival, we all want a little bit more. When we get more we tend to spend more, which results in wanting more. Meanwhile, we throw away what others need for survival. It’s a disturbing circle of want and need, but we have the ability to change the cycle. The change begins when we acknowledge that our excess creates an opportunity to address the needs of others.

What is enough?

This may be the most critical question of our generation. More important, it may be the most critical question of our personal lives. If we do not make a personal choice to draw a line, we will be taken over by desire. Defining enough is our personal responsibility. We won’t recognize enough in our lives unless we have taken the time to define that line. Defining enough leads to a freedom in life that is just waiting to be experienced, breaking the bondage of our ever-increasing desires. I’ve just begun to experience this freedom. As I have put the question to various aspects of my life, I am finding that asking the question does not limit me as much as it grants me sanity. When I define enough, I step off the conveyor belt of consumerism and create my own rhythm of life. Over time, advertisers, credit cards, and the quest for more and better lose their control over me. I no longer feel pushed around by others telling me what I need and want. Enough is a realistic measuring stick—one that offers me attainable and sustainable goals for life and the pursuit of my calling. Sometimes less can do more.

If you look up enough in the dictionary, you will find a subjective definition: “Adequate for the want or need; sufficient for the purpose or to satisfy desire.”6

Want or need? Sufficiency or satisfaction? Purpose or desire? The gulf between these words is impossible to measure, and therefore the breadth of this definition is endless. This is a definition that leaves space for anything.

The definition of enough cannot be defined by or for others. It would be much easier if someone gave each of us a definition to live by, but it isn’t that easy. Enough isn’t a percentage of your income. There is no simple formula. Every person must define what is enough individually. I can’t determine for you what you need more of and where you could choose less. As I continue to define what enough looks like for me, I have found that it is much easier to critique someone else’s definition and lifestyle. I don’t recommend it. Not only will it cause others to avoid you and your potentially judgmental observations, it also doesn’t do you any good. It’s hard enough to process your own motivations, needs, and desires without trying to evaluate everyone else’s. Work on your own personal definition of enough.

One tangible way you can keep the focus on yourself is to keep a piece of paper in this book as you read. As you finish each chapter, sketch a line with a plus sign (more than enough) on one end of the paper and a minus sign (less than enough) on the other. Ask yourself, where am I on this spectrum for this specific topic? Do I need more or do I want more? When will I have enough? Some topics may bring great conflict to your life, while in other areas you will be content. The important thing is to draw your line of enough.

Always remember that others can speak into this process, but only you can define where you draw the line. Think through where you are on the line—needing more, having excess, or possessing just enough. Then consider what you might need to change. In which direction would you like to move? Keep the focus on evaluating yourself and what you feel prompted to do, give, or try. And don’t be afraid to take action toward enough. Walk that line on a daily basis. I believe anything we find that is more than enough creates an immediate opportunity to make others’ lives better.

WE WILL BE KNOWN BY THE PROBLEMS WE SOLVE

Answering the question in every aspect of life can define who you are, how others see you, and what legacy you will leave for humanity. In our society, the question is not whether we have excess, but rather what we will do with our excess. How will we turn our excess into action? What if individuals chose to live in contrast to the American dream and chose a story line different from the normal white-picket-fence picture? A dream should be a personal pursuit of passion and adventure because no one wants to live in the standardized world of The Truman Show. We all need to find our own space, our own dream, and our own gift to give.

As I began to form my own rough outline of enough and pursue my unique dream, I met others feeling the same calling. My friends and I put our creative minds together to explore creative ways to use our excess for good. I like to call them social experiments. We designed these experiments to challenge our current lifestyles and to cast light on our excess. From counting clothes to recovering change on leftover gift cards, we began asking the question: what if we created a culture that asked, “What is enough?” Maybe we could exchange our lives of excess for a collaborative community pursuing generosity. Maybe we could find purpose behind why we have been given so much.

Our goal from the beginning was not to feel guilt but rather to feel grateful for our excess and then begin to bless friends around us out of our abundance. We don’t believe personal wealth is wrong; rather, it is an opportunity that we hope will result in a lifestyle of greater generosity. This generous lifestyle will bring joy and freedom in a society dedicated to the pursuit of gaining more for me. Maybe this is our chance to create a societal shift from feeding unnecessary desires to addressing issues of suffering throughout the world.

We invite you to join us.

TWO BAGS OF TRASH

I had talked about doing it for a few weeks. Finally, I got off the couch and moved. I opened the door of the kitchen cabinet under the sink and took out two big black trash bags. I walked out through our front door, down the driveway, and began.

For weeks I had noticed trash on the streets and sidewalks of our neighborhood, and unlike in Kibera, no one was using this trash for anything good. So I started. There was nothing glamorous about the work, but I reminded myself that sometimes it is important to work for your community even when it doesn’t feel like you are doing much. I leaned over, and with just two fingers I gingerly picked up a cup and straw from a fine fast-food establishment called Checkers down the street. I tried not to think about what germs might be multiplying on this nasty cup and made a mental note to buy a pair of gloves for next time. I moved on down the street and picked up pieces from a broken pot on the sidewalk. I picked up candy-bar wrappers. A few liquor bottles. Beer cans. Coke bottles. Empty bags of chips. Glass fragments. A plastic bag. A syringe. (Oh, God, protect me!) Gum wrappers. On and on. It didn’t stop. One bag was full. Then I picked up a bag from McDonalds. More cups. More wrappers. More trash.

Then it happened. A homeless guy I had never seen in my life yelled at me from across the street. “Hey, I think you missed a few,” he shouted. “Over there in the bushes, you missed a few.” Thanks (I think …), I thought.

I picked up the trash in the bushes and realized my two bags were full, so I turned around and started walking home. As I walked back just four blocks, I saw more and more trash littering the streets and parking lots that I hadn’t even touched and didn’t have enough space for in my two measly trash bags. I put the trash in our green trash bin and walked back in the front door. Done, but not done at all.

As I slumped down on the couch, trying to feel good about what I had done, I realized what I’d just experienced. It was a short story of what we all hope to do and what we all have to overcome and what we all hate to do and what we all need to do and what it takes to leave an imprint on this world.

We live in a world with so many problems. Media inundates us with image after image of overwhelming need. We want to make the world better. We want to change how we see the world. Sometimes just getting started is the biggest hurdle. Then we finally dive in and realize that dealing with messes means we might get dirty. We actually have to touch the problem. Let me warn you now: there are plenty of chances to quit along the way to making a difference. But we can choose to sweat it out, tackle our feelings of discomfort, and work through the messiness of the problem. Just as we begin to feel good and truly invest, working to figure out how to get a win in solving the problem, a guy with no vested interest, no sweat equity, no voice that has a right to be heard, yells from the stands and tries to bring us down. It’s the last thing we need to hear in that moment, but for some reason we listen. We question everything we do. Can we really even make a dent in this problem? The problem is so big, and we are so small. Are we even making a difference? We start to analyze everything we do, but we courageously push through and finish the day.

We go home and hope for new energy to keep going.

We go to sleep.

We wake up the next morning.

And we do it again. Why? Because if we don’t do it, not a single other person in the world feels the same responsibility to make it right. I believe there is a problem in this world that you were called to solve. It is your responsibility to find that problem and make it right. It’s not the way it ought to be, and it can be better. This problem matters. It may not matter to anyone else on earth, but it matters to me. It matters to you. It is the start to a new way of living. We will mark this day as the beginning of something significant.

You and I have an opportunity. We are tomorrow, and the future rides on our shoulders. We see brokenness, and we want to make a difference. We stand with two hands open. On the one hand we are hopeful, and on the other hand fear fills us. Fear of what we will be forced to change within ourselves. Our passion to bring good pushes our dreams forward. We believe we can make the world a better place. We may only influence a few, or we may change the course of history. Either way, it’s worth it. We must overcome our apathy.

Perhaps this simplistic and poetic view of life seems unreasonable and different. And we probably feel that way because it is. We know others can’t understand the vision growing within us, and the ideas in our minds are much loftier than may seem possible. Our mission is to create something that will end suffering for one other person. That person is worth everything. It is time to change because this hope is too big not to pursue. Nothing will hold us back. We have enough, and we will give more. It starts by wrestling with two words: more and less.

ENOUGH TALK

In every chapter, I hope to engage you with something to do, an actionable project. You will read stories of leaders who created a new definition of enough. I hope to offer various angles on this concept so you can engage this question within your own life and family. At the end of each chapter, I will give you something to do to take your reading into real life, to stop thinking or talking and start doing.

Here is where you start on that journey.

For the next week, every day, listen to the words of your friends or colleagues. Try to hear what others communicate as a need or want. Your goal is to begin to give to others out of things that you already have in your possession. They may just need to borrow something, or you may choose to give them a gift with no strings attached. Listen to statements like this: “I really need _______.” “I could really use a _______.” “I have been wanting to get ______.”

Try to think about everyday things in your home that you could give to make a friend’s life easier and your life simpler. Match something you have in your possession with a need of a friend. No strings attached. Just let it go. Give it away. Be generous. Give something larger than usual. You will be amazed how others will respond positively and with surprise. Get a taste of what it feels like to give out of your excess this week.

NOTES

1. MosquitoZapper.com, www.mosquitozapper.com (accessed August 6, 2012).

2. “Tradio: The Bert Show’s Crappy Christmas Gift Exchange: What Did We End Up With?”, The Bert Show, February 16, 2001, http://thebertshow.com/tradio-the-bert-shows-crappy-christmas-gift-exchange-2.

3. Bill McKibben, Deep Economy (New York: Times Books, 2007).

4. The Simple Way, www.thesimpleway.org (accessed August 6, 2012).

5. “A Biography of Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani,” April 20, 2005, http://www.nyc.gov/html/records/rwg/html/bio.html.

6. Random House Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary, s.v. “enough.”