My parents are officially hippy, granola-crunchy, Vermont radicals. It was a gradual process, but I think I became aware of their fate around the time they began listening to downloaded peak oil lectures for amusement and considered an afternoon of pickling to be a good time. Their world is one of growing their own food, living according to the whims of the weather, and staying in touch with the state of the economy to a degree many other Americans would consider mind-numbing and depressing. Last I talked to them, they were lamenting the fact they had to give in and purchase veggies from the store, having run low on their home-grown produce. Me, I have trouble keeping my beta fish alive, and so I consider their dedication and hard work astonishing. And this from a dad who once worked as a CTO for AOL Time Warner and boasted a corvette collection, and a mom who kept busy, in part, keeping clean a Connecticut McMansion of no less than thirty-eight hundred square feet and cruising around in her Ford Explorer. I believe the radical lifestyle changes my family has undergone in recent years speaks not just to my parent’s own astuteness, but also to the sheer number of ways in which, if one takes the time to look, we can see our world--our country, our economy, our planet--approaching a time of monumental change. Of course, very few people take the time to look, or have the time between work and paying those increasingly higher energy bills. I’m privileged enough to have a mom and dad who are more than willing to fill me in on the details since I, fresh out of college and mostly penniless, have little free time on my hands outside of work to do the research myself. When I call to check in, I know I can look forward not only to hearing updates about the farm and mild family gossip, but also can partake in a refresher on the sub-prime mortgage crisis and the down-to the minute price of oil per barrel. Last I called, my dad and I had an engaging discussion on the cost of road repairs in Vermont (in case you’re interested, we don’t have enough money to fix them). It was enthralling. I kid, though. I’m glad someone’s concerned, and I am lucky. Things are bad now, there’s no doubt, but when the shit really hits the fan--unplayable prices at the pump, food shortages, water shortages, and wacky weather patterns on top of it all--I will have an energy-efficient farm to return to someday. As for the SUV, my parents traded that in a few years ago for a Prius. Yup, that’s how radical the change was. They belong to a new generation--a very small generation, currently--of empty-nesters who have had an epiphany about the unsustainability of the American Dream. Vermonters could learn a lot from people like my parents and others who have some pretty good ideas about how the next ten years will look. No one has a crystal ball, but we can assume with some certainty that the economy is going to continue to perform poorly, more and more Americans will be unable to make ends meet, and we all are going to have to give up on a lot of stuff we take for granted. Orange juice and nicely paved roads, for example. And reliable heat and electricity. And socks. No, we will still have socks in the future. But there are certainly a lot of things we will not have, and there is no doubt in my mind Vermonters must prepare now for the bumpy road ahead of us. Pun intended.