Detour from Normal (31 page)

Those pencils didn't come with erasers, and I was only able to get a slip-on one because a nurse was in a good mood when I asked and was willing to take time from filling out her endless paperwork to find one for me. There was a whole box of stubby pencils, but aside from a few scattered in drawers, the erasers had all but disappeared. Most people there weren't interested in correcting their mistakes at Gracewood, so
I was apparently one of the few who ever showed any interest in an eraser.

It was difficult writing with stubby pencils, and the points became dull in minutes. I was constantly pestering the nurses to sharpen them. Finally, ignoring rules, they gave me a few spares. When I wrote in normal life, I used lowercase print and capital letters as needed. I'd given up cursive years ago because it had become so illegible that even I couldn't read it. When I wrote in Gracewood, I wrote in all capital letters. That was something I had never done in my life. I decided to do it because, just as my cursive had, my printing was becoming difficult for others to read, and the stubby pencils made it even worse. Once I started, my new brain switched gears instantly and never missed a beat. In no time I could print in uppercase quite rapidly. As a consequence, I consumed paper as well as pencil points in a hurry jotting down all my ideas, including those relating to Utopia, so the nurses broke another rule and let me have as much paper as I wanted. Among the many pages I wrote, there were four that dealt strictly with Utopia. Three were text and the fourth had hand-drawn figures. All of those handwritten pages were on plain white printer paper with no lines or margins. They were certainly unsophisticated for an engineer who was used to doing fancy PowerPoint presentations, but that was all I had. What follows is the text of the pages I wrote in Gracewood that dealt with Utopia.

UTOPIA

THE IDEA BEHIND UTOPIA IS TO CAPITALIZE ON A CHANGED HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY DUE TO THE LOSS OF NEGATIVE
EMOTIONS AND TO REINVENT SOCIETY BY REDESIGNING IT FROM THE GROUND UR PEOPLE WITHOUT NEGATIVE EMOTIONS WILL NATURALLY GET ALONG. THEY WILL REQUIRE LESS SPACE FOR MATERIAL FLUFF AND BE MORE INTERESTED IN INTERACTING WITH THEIR COMMUNITY. SO INSTEAD OF AN URBAN SPRAWL, THE SOCIETY OF THE FUTURE MIGHT BE MORE LIKE A BEEHIVE. PEOPLE WILL BE ABLE AND WILL WANT TO LIVE IN CLOSER PROXIMITY TO THE ONES THEY CARE FOR AND THEY WILL CARE FOR MORE PEOPLE.

THERE ARE THREE PHASES TO THE UTOPIA PROJECT. THE FIRST PHASE GENERATES SOME FUNDING FOR THE PROJECT AND CONDUCTS SOCIAL EXPERIMENTS TO CONFIRM AND REFINE HOW HUMANS WITHOUT NEGATIVE EMOTIONS INTERACT. THE SECOND PHASE BUILDS THE TEAMS WHO WILL CREATE THE FINAL UTOPIA AND CONTINUES TO GENERATE FUNDING. AND THE THIRD PHASE BUILDS UTOPIA.

PHASE 1

IN PHASE 1, A SMALL COMMUNITY WILL BE ESTABLISHED (UTOPIA 1), PROBABLY BY SELLING EXISTING LARGER HOMES AND MOVING FAMILIES INVOLVED IN THE PROJECT TO A SMALLER TRACT HOME COMMUNITY. THIS WILL GENERATE SOME CASH TO GET THE PROJECT GOING. EXPERIMENTS WILL THEN BE CONDUCTED IN THESE HOMES TO CREATE
MORE EFFICIENT LIVING SPACES AND FURNISHINGS, AND DETERMINE IF MORE PEOPLE CAN LIVE IN THE SAME SPACE. SOME MODIFICATIONS MAY BE MADE TO BOTH INTERIORS AND EXTERIORS OF THE HOMES.

PHASE 2

IN PHASE 2, THE PASSION GROUPS WHO WILL BUILD UTOPIA WILL BE POPULATED. THESE GROUPS WILL CONSIST OF PEOPLE NATURALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT THEIR PARTICULAR GROUP. THE GROUPS WILL BE: FINANCE, AGRICULTURE, PARKS AND RECREATION, HUMAN NEEDS, TRANSPORTATION, TECHNOLOGY, UTILITIES, PROTECTION, INFRASTRUCTURE, GOVERNING, AND OTHERS AS NECESSARY. WITH SOME RESULTS OF PHASE 1 KNOWN, IT MAY BE POSSIBLE TO SELL ADDITIONAL REAL ESTATE TO FUND THE PROJECT, AND THAT WILL BE DONE AT THIS TIME.

PHASE 3

IN PHASE 3, EVERYTHING WILL COME TOGETHER AND THE FINAL UTOPIA (UTOPIA 2) WILL BE BUILT. UTOPIA WILL BE A SELF-CONTAINED CITY, USING MANY GREEN PRINCIPLES TO ACHIEVE THAT GOAL. SUCH TECHNOLOGIES AS SOLAR POWER, MICRO WIND TURBINES, HYDROELECTRIC GENERATION AND STORAGE, AND BURNING OF BIOGAS FROM HUMAN AND ANIMAL WASTE WILL BE USED. UTOPIA
WILL BE BUILT DOWN INSTEAD OF UP TO REDUCE ENERGY DEMANDS FOR HEATING AND COOLING. UTOPIA WILL SEAMLESSLY INTEGRATE INTO THE LOCAL ENVIRONMENT. IT WILL HAVE UNDERGROUND WALKING AND BIKEWAYS AS WELL AS PERSONAL RAPID TRANSIT: SMALL ELECTRIC VEHICLES THAT CAN HOLD AS MANY AS SIX PEOPLE. UTOPIA WILL BE CONSTRUCTED LIKE A MANY-LAYERED WHEEL WITH LIVING SPACES ON THE OUTER RINGS AND SOCIAL, ENTERTAINMENT, SHOPPING, GOVERNMENT, AND WORK FUNCTIONS TOWARD THE CENTER. UTOPIA WILL PRODUCE ALL ITS OWN POWER AND FOOD. THERE WILL ALWAYS BE INTERACTION WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD, SO UTOPIA WILL REMAIN AN OPEN COMMUNITY, TRADING NECESSITIES AND IDEAS WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD.

TECHNOLOGY TRANSFER

THE PRIMARY GOAL IS TO DEVELOP UTOPIA, NOT TO SPREAD KNOWLEDGE TO THE WORLD. THE ULTIMATE AMBITION, HOWEVER, IS TO CREATE A TEMPLATE FOR THE REST OF THE WORLD TO FOLLOW. COMMUNICATION DURING EARLY PHASES WILL BE RESTRICTED TO UTOPIA 1, UTOPIA 2, AND SATELLITES, SMALL OFF-SITE ORGANIZATIONS SPREAD ACROSS THE COUNTRY OR EVEN THE WORLD THAT HAVE STAKES IN UTOPIA. AS UTOPIA 2 NEARS COMPLETION, COMMUNICATION WILL SHIFT, MAKING TECHNOLOGY AND CONCEPTS FROM UTOPIA AN OPEN BOOK TO THE WORLD.

A fourth page contained two drawings, which contrasted room size in Utopia with conventional design, illustrating the inefficient use of space in a typical bedroom/bathroom. There was a flow chart showing how Utopian technology would be developed and spread to the United States, then to the world, and finally there was a drawing of a wheel with different passion groups as the spokes and me as the leader at the hub.

Utopia would be primarily social in nature, since putting together people without negative emotions was the most important aspect to work out. Future communities might be tailored to music, art, technology, etc. as people's passions dictated. Those communities would be like self-contained islands, each having a unique flavor, but there would always be a desire to share products and experiences among communities.

Since I knew that everyone would lose their negative emotions, and since I was the focal point from which all change would radiate, I was in a unique position to guide the creation of the first community. I felt strongly that my vision of tomorrow should be anchored here in America, and I didn't want to sit around and watch while others struggled with all the changes. Instead I wanted to jump-start the process so we could circumvent what would otherwise be a clumsy learning curve fraught with missteps.

It was for those reasons that I wrote so feverishly and passionately, and I firmly believed everything I wrote. I had individuals already picked for specific positions. Those positions provided them with opportunities to do what they loved most. Dad loved photography, so I hoped he and Mom would join the Utopia 2 site location team to help find and photograph our eventual home. I wanted my nephew Justin, who was studying to become a doctor, to be on the medical team. My brothers Alan and Dana had years of business experience and would be perfect
at figuring out creative ways to fund the venture. Beth and my children would be key players in the Utopia 1 experiments in Ahwatukee. Many other family, friends, and community members would be offered roles for which they were qualified and would be passionate about. Still others would be invited to participate based on their abilities and passions.

Chapter 26

THE LAST VISITOR

On May 27, my dad and my nephew Justin stopped by for a visit. At that time I had just finished writing my papers on Utopia and was anxious to share them. Dad and Justin sat down on a sofa near the window, and I pulled up a chair in front of them. I handed Dad the papers and waited as he got comfortable, adjusted his trifocals, and began to read my pencil-written, all-caps documents. I wondered if he would be able to see beyond the pencil writing on unlined paper and instead focus on the content. The script alone lent a disturbed look to the documents.

Dad made it through the first page and then lifted it to see how many more there were. He peered at me over his glasses and said, "You do realize this is crazy, don't you?" It wasn't the response I'd wished for. I was hopeful that he might find it interesting on some level. It was just an idea, a rough draft. I'd put a lot of work and thought into those papers. After scrutinizing the remaining pages, Dad handed the papers back to me. Justin asked if he could read them, so I offered them to him. He read through them all and said, "You're a good man, Uncle Ken. Do you mind if I keep these?"

"Not at all," I said. It was the last time I saw those papers. Perhaps it was for the best. No good ever came from sharing my ideas about
change and new societies. As a matter of fact, those topics seemed to be at the root of many of the bad things that had happened to me in recent memory.

The rest of the visit was uneventful. Justin didn't say anything more, and I got the impression that Dad was fishing for information. It was, after all, the first time he'd seen me that way face-to-face. When they left, I felt hollow.

On May 28, Mom and Dad visited me. Mom brought some orange soda and peanut butter crackers. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had an orange soda, and it was a welcome change of pace. Mom was a real health food nut and I'm sure her intention was to bring me something healthier, but they weren't familiar with the area and were reluctant to search for a convenience or grocery store. The orange soda and crackers were the healthiest foods she could find in the vending machines in the lobby. We talked a little about what was going on back at their home in Utah—how their cats were doing and how their new fishpond was working out.

On May 29, Mom and Dad visited again. Dad entered the main area with a somber look, and Mom followed him in silence. It seemed Dad had completed his fact gathering; he was done beating around the bush and ready to get down to business. He and Mom had just spoken with Dr. Davis regarding me. They held him in high regard and had worked out a plan with him for my release.

I felt the complete opposite of my parents about Dr. Davis: he was pompous, arrogant, and more interested in satisfying his own giant ego than in the needs of his patients. I'd witnessed Dr. Davis at work every day with patients and families. He frequently met with patients, and sometimes families, in the main area where anyone could hear, so I'd
often sit on a sofa within earshot and listen to him manipulate both the patients and their families. I knew many patients personally and spent a great deal of time with some of them one-on-one, so I felt it was my business to know what he was up to, even though I was powerless to do anything about it. What appalled me most was when he'd use families to manipulate their sick loved ones to his benefit.

Dr. Davis took advantage of the fact that families were desperate for anything to help their loved ones. Without fail, he'd convince them that drugs were the only solution. I couldn't help but wonder if he received some kind of a kickback from drug manufacturers. His policy seemed to be this: overdose the patient on one drug, and then overdose him or her on additional drugs as required to counter the adverse side effects of the first overdose. In the end I was stuck with the aftermath as I watched one of my friends after another spiral down into seemingly bottomless pits of suffering.

The plan my parents had worked out was that I was to go live with them in Utah under the care of a psychiatrist there while I was stabilized into a life of medication. I could hike, swim, anything I wanted. I could relax and get better. That all sounded much nicer than being at Gracewood. There were just a few things wrong with the plan. First, the reason for the offer was because they had been convinced that I was a danger to Beth and the children, and that being in a different state was the only way they could be protected. I wanted to be with Beth and my daughters more than anything else. Second, when and if I could return to my "normal" life would be determined by some psychiatrist who had never met my family or me. Lastly, the bomb: Dad looked me straight in the eye and told me that even though they were willing to do everything he had mentioned for me, he and Mom had a perfect life together, and caring for me would be a big burden to them.

He spoke more after that, but I didn't process any of it. Of all the brothers, I was probably the most independent. I rarely asked anyone for anything, and I always paid back right away, often with interest for the small amount of help I did ask for. I took great pride in being a burden to no one. As a matter of fact, I consider it one of my greatest faults that it is so difficult for me to accept help from others.

To me, what started as an offer of help ended as just another way of trying to get me to snap out of it, to make me come to my senses. I could handle that, but I was suddenly no longer interested in family and friends' so-called help. Every interaction with them of late had only ended up putting me in more jeopardy of one kind or another, regardless of their good intentions. That final attempt at help just made me want to be alone.

Throughout my stay at Gracewood, I'd periodically get "slapped in the face." That was a phrase I used to describe an overly strong reaction by people to something I'd said or done. Over time I came to realize that it mostly happened when I attempted to force my opinion or control a situation.