I'm coming home late tonight. I haven't written because I've been so, so, so busy. All can say is that this experience has been transformative, and I'll try to relate it when I have a little time to reflect fully.
Unfortunately, I also picked up, every so slightly, that long "o" sound so prevalent in Minnesota/Wisconsin. I'm not pretentious, I swear.
Anyone up for drinks tomorrow?
7.26.2007
7.22.2007
This Time, I Ain't Dancing On A Frat House Bar
After spending a phenomenal weekend with Molly and Abby at Molly's parents' still-under-construction lake house (Steve Adams knows how to do retirement, I'll tell you what;this joint is going to be unbelievable when it is done) Chris dropped me off at the dorms for my return to college life. My thoughts on the experience thus far:
* It might sound cliched, but I really feel like a freshman. You'd know I'm not lying if you could have seen me walking my ass to Whole Foods to grab some food, clutching my vinyl ID-card holder/keychain (with one lonely dorm-room key) and a inconspicuously-folded map of the campus, trying to not get lost.
* Despite the fact that it's July, there is still life on the campus, namely 300 or so cheerleaders here for cheer camp, and several incoming freshman here for orientation. I don't know what is more disturbing: the fact that I'm surrounded by kids who could conceivably be my former students, or the fact that they might ask me to buy them beer.
* I was the first of my roommates to arrive (most people aren't coming until tomorrow AM), and damn, dorms have blown up since I was in school. My "room" is a suite. There are four bedrooms, each with a desk, closet, bed, chest of drawers, pretty standard. However, we have two bathrooms (one with a shower-tub and one with a big walk-in shower) a living room, and a full kitchen with fridge, oven, and microwave. And wireless. No posters of Tupac, though.
* Why is my dorm right next to DPS? Does the reputation of my former self precede me?
Gotta jet. Not only do I have to check out whether or not Sodexho is up in this bitch, but I still don't have all my reading finished. You know that think blue book I've been carrying around since May? The Dialectic of Freedom? 135 pages? Yeah, I'm still on page 99. Shit is philosophical.
Some things never change.
* It might sound cliched, but I really feel like a freshman. You'd know I'm not lying if you could have seen me walking my ass to Whole Foods to grab some food, clutching my vinyl ID-card holder/keychain (with one lonely dorm-room key) and a inconspicuously-folded map of the campus, trying to not get lost.
* Despite the fact that it's July, there is still life on the campus, namely 300 or so cheerleaders here for cheer camp, and several incoming freshman here for orientation. I don't know what is more disturbing: the fact that I'm surrounded by kids who could conceivably be my former students, or the fact that they might ask me to buy them beer.
* I was the first of my roommates to arrive (most people aren't coming until tomorrow AM), and damn, dorms have blown up since I was in school. My "room" is a suite. There are four bedrooms, each with a desk, closet, bed, chest of drawers, pretty standard. However, we have two bathrooms (one with a shower-tub and one with a big walk-in shower) a living room, and a full kitchen with fridge, oven, and microwave. And wireless. No posters of Tupac, though.
* Why is my dorm right next to DPS? Does the reputation of my former self precede me?
Gotta jet. Not only do I have to check out whether or not Sodexho is up in this bitch, but I still don't have all my reading finished. You know that think blue book I've been carrying around since May? The Dialectic of Freedom? 135 pages? Yeah, I'm still on page 99. Shit is philosophical.
Some things never change.
7.19.2007
On The Road Again
Chris and I are leaving Friday to head up to Minnesota. We're first going to Eastern MN to spend the weekend with Molly and Abby at Molly's parents lake house. Monday morning, Chris is dropping me off in int Twin Cities so I can start my week-long class at the University of St Thomas. It's the first of my core classes that I'll take with my cohort, the group of people that I'll take most of my classes with. I'm excited and nervous, but I know it's going to be transformative. Hopefully, I'll be able to post, but I'll be pretty busy, becoming an intellectual while simultaneously saving the world.
Keep me amused with stories from home. Or Alaska. Or Europe.
Keep me amused with stories from home. Or Alaska. Or Europe.
7.18.2007
Pop Culture Update
Yet another perk of summer vacation is the freedom to read and watch pretty much anything I want. I have really been enjoying my time at home this week, reading, watching various shows/films, listening to NPR and music, and clicking around the net. My recommendations:
Books
I highly recommend one of Jon Krakauer's older books, Into Thin Air. It tells the true story of a young college graduate who abandons his affluent lifestyle to wander the country with little but the clothes on his back. He eventually makes his way to Alaska, where he starves to death in the wilderness (that ain't no spoiler, it's on the front cover of the book). Krakauer juxtaposes this story with stories of others disillusioned by the structure of conventional society seeking refuge in the wilderness and poses the question of were these people mentally disturbed, or just sick of it all? Quick read, too.
I'm current still struggling through The Dialectic of Freedom by Maxine Greene, but that shit is blowing my mind. Here's the central idea: our concept of "freedom" is false; we are only truly free if we acknowledge, then take action to change, that which oppresses us within our community. It is more than political freedom--it's beyond that. In other words, we aren't free if we can't identify the bars on the cages (I think that's how Daniel Quinn put it in Ishmael). We don't care about freedom of speech if we don't really have anything to say. I will get into it more in depth but I'm still trying to wrap my head around it before I go to Minneapolis next week.
Other than that, I also read Ann Patchett's The Patron Saint of Liars, which was great, re-read Bill Bryson's A Walk In The Woods, and A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki. All worth reading.
Music
We recently bought a few CD's for the trip back from the AT. Of course, Ryan Adams' latest, Easy Tiger was one of the select. I am not ashamed of my love for Adams. His new CD, on first listen, sounds like a hodgepodge of Jacksonville City Nights, 29, and Cold Roses, but it has grown on me (which is what usually happens with his CDs). Also digging the newest Rufus Wainwright
and some Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.
Screens
Yes, we saw Sicko. Other awesomeness of note , on DVD, includes C.S.A: The Confederate States of America, which is a mockumentary of the history of the "former" U.S. had the Confederacy won the Civil War. We also saw Hannibal Rising , which was okay, and are currently working our way through the third and final season of HBO's Deadwood. If you are looking to find a new DVD addiction, I cannot express how much I loved watching the entire series of Six Feet Under. I've never been so affected by a television show, never grown so attached to a group of characters, and never seen a more satisfying series finale.
Books
I highly recommend one of Jon Krakauer's older books, Into Thin Air. It tells the true story of a young college graduate who abandons his affluent lifestyle to wander the country with little but the clothes on his back. He eventually makes his way to Alaska, where he starves to death in the wilderness (that ain't no spoiler, it's on the front cover of the book). Krakauer juxtaposes this story with stories of others disillusioned by the structure of conventional society seeking refuge in the wilderness and poses the question of were these people mentally disturbed, or just sick of it all? Quick read, too.
I'm current still struggling through The Dialectic of Freedom by Maxine Greene, but that shit is blowing my mind. Here's the central idea: our concept of "freedom" is false; we are only truly free if we acknowledge, then take action to change, that which oppresses us within our community. It is more than political freedom--it's beyond that. In other words, we aren't free if we can't identify the bars on the cages (I think that's how Daniel Quinn put it in Ishmael). We don't care about freedom of speech if we don't really have anything to say. I will get into it more in depth but I'm still trying to wrap my head around it before I go to Minneapolis next week.
Other than that, I also read Ann Patchett's The Patron Saint of Liars, which was great, re-read Bill Bryson's A Walk In The Woods, and A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki. All worth reading.
Music
We recently bought a few CD's for the trip back from the AT. Of course, Ryan Adams' latest, Easy Tiger was one of the select. I am not ashamed of my love for Adams. His new CD, on first listen, sounds like a hodgepodge of Jacksonville City Nights, 29, and Cold Roses, but it has grown on me (which is what usually happens with his CDs). Also digging the newest Rufus Wainwright
and some Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.
Screens
Yes, we saw Sicko. Other awesomeness of note , on DVD, includes C.S.A: The Confederate States of America, which is a mockumentary of the history of the "former" U.S. had the Confederacy won the Civil War. We also saw Hannibal Rising , which was okay, and are currently working our way through the third and final season of HBO's Deadwood. If you are looking to find a new DVD addiction, I cannot express how much I loved watching the entire series of Six Feet Under. I've never been so affected by a television show, never grown so attached to a group of characters, and never seen a more satisfying series finale.
Another questions...
How is Elisabeth Hasselbeck still relevant? It's unfortunate that The View, which started out as a platform for smart women to have a voice, now employs someone completely antithetical to feminism and, for that matter, logic and reason.
Also, lay off the self-tanner.
Sorry, I've been watching daytime.
Also, lay off the self-tanner.
Sorry, I've been watching daytime.
7.17.2007
Quick Question
Why do pundits insist on questioning whether or not Barack Obama is "black enough"? As if Obama's "blackness" hasn't impacted him every single day of his life, including having people question his authenticity as a black man because he was "clean and articulate". This is such bullshit on so many levels.
7.14.2007
Sicko
Chris and I went and saw Sicko last night. Say what you want about Michael Moore, his style and his politics, but he knows how to bring the drama, and this is a great film. In fact, if you check it out, those who seek to "debunk" Moore's films are having trouble finding real inconsistencies, particularly when looking at the big picture
I think the topic of health care was a brilliant choice for Moore. Health care affects everyone and is something that we all care about, if not for others, at least for ourselves. Even more intelligently, Moore doesn't focus on the millions of Americans who are uninsured, but instead looks at how insurance companies fuck their clients every single day. Fact: HMO's are having record profits, while the #1 cause of bankruptcy in a America is medical bills. Here's a question: why are people making money off of sick people? Is that ethical? Is it ethical that health insurance companies are not interested in helping people when they are sick, but how they can find ways to avoid paying for care? For what most Americans pay for insurance, shouldn't the level of care be exceptional, and, equally important, headache-free?
Moore shows four examples of countries with universal health care: Canada, Cuba, France, and the UK. Granted, citizens of these countries pay more in taxes, but think about not having any health insurance or medical bills. Even our car insurance would be less, too, because you wouldn't have to factor in medical costs in case of an accident. It seems to me that the costs would even out. If we have $2 trillion to spend on the war in Iraq, I can't see why we haven't found the money to take care of our citizens' health.
What was even more interesting to me was the emphasis on preventative care and mental/emotional health care in the countries highlighted. For example, in the UK, women get six months PAID maternity leave. At my job, which one would think would be a family-friendly workplace, you don't get any paid maternity leave, and I think that's pretty standard. In France, the government even pays for mother's helpers to visit homes and do laundry, clean and take care of the children. Doctors still make house calls. Quality child care is free or almost-free.
One major point the film makes is that in these countries, the idea is that the system works for the people. As a nation prospers, that prosperity should bring about improvements to all people's lives. The attitude in the U.S. is that our "freedom" means that we take care of ourselves and our country owes us nothing. God forbid we take care of each other. Because, you know, that would be socialism, or even worse, communism! People have this idea that if we were to have universal health care, it would be abused by all these freeloaders, ruffians, and ne'er-do-wells and all us hardworking, worthy Americans would unfairly bear the burden of these lazy bums. Because hardworking Americans never face health emergencies that they can't afford. Not in the land of milk and honey! I feel as though, in a country of such wealth as ours, if a citizen is sick, they should be able to receive top quality care, no questions asked, and the last thing they should have to think about is can they afford said care. I think it comes down to the fact that people are so self-interested that they can't see past the threat of someone else getting more from a system such as this than themselves. It would be unfair to pay, through taxes, into a system that might give someone else more than they might get. Is it so audacious that a health care system might function solely to take care of people, any people, that might cross its path? Consider this: when I lived in Germany, one of my roommates was an insulin-dependent diabetic. The day a few of us left to go home, she passed out in our apartment and was rushed to a German hospital. She spent several days in the hospital and paid not a penny. If this were to happen in America, many Americans would resent the fact that they paid for a foreigners hospital bill. However, this sentiment, in many countries with universal health care, doesn't exist.
Why is it so hard for Americans to support the idea of universal health care?
I think the topic of health care was a brilliant choice for Moore. Health care affects everyone and is something that we all care about, if not for others, at least for ourselves. Even more intelligently, Moore doesn't focus on the millions of Americans who are uninsured, but instead looks at how insurance companies fuck their clients every single day. Fact: HMO's are having record profits, while the #1 cause of bankruptcy in a America is medical bills. Here's a question: why are people making money off of sick people? Is that ethical? Is it ethical that health insurance companies are not interested in helping people when they are sick, but how they can find ways to avoid paying for care? For what most Americans pay for insurance, shouldn't the level of care be exceptional, and, equally important, headache-free?
Moore shows four examples of countries with universal health care: Canada, Cuba, France, and the UK. Granted, citizens of these countries pay more in taxes, but think about not having any health insurance or medical bills. Even our car insurance would be less, too, because you wouldn't have to factor in medical costs in case of an accident. It seems to me that the costs would even out. If we have $2 trillion to spend on the war in Iraq, I can't see why we haven't found the money to take care of our citizens' health.
What was even more interesting to me was the emphasis on preventative care and mental/emotional health care in the countries highlighted. For example, in the UK, women get six months PAID maternity leave. At my job, which one would think would be a family-friendly workplace, you don't get any paid maternity leave, and I think that's pretty standard. In France, the government even pays for mother's helpers to visit homes and do laundry, clean and take care of the children. Doctors still make house calls. Quality child care is free or almost-free.
One major point the film makes is that in these countries, the idea is that the system works for the people. As a nation prospers, that prosperity should bring about improvements to all people's lives. The attitude in the U.S. is that our "freedom" means that we take care of ourselves and our country owes us nothing. God forbid we take care of each other. Because, you know, that would be socialism, or even worse, communism! People have this idea that if we were to have universal health care, it would be abused by all these freeloaders, ruffians, and ne'er-do-wells and all us hardworking, worthy Americans would unfairly bear the burden of these lazy bums. Because hardworking Americans never face health emergencies that they can't afford. Not in the land of milk and honey! I feel as though, in a country of such wealth as ours, if a citizen is sick, they should be able to receive top quality care, no questions asked, and the last thing they should have to think about is can they afford said care. I think it comes down to the fact that people are so self-interested that they can't see past the threat of someone else getting more from a system such as this than themselves. It would be unfair to pay, through taxes, into a system that might give someone else more than they might get. Is it so audacious that a health care system might function solely to take care of people, any people, that might cross its path? Consider this: when I lived in Germany, one of my roommates was an insulin-dependent diabetic. The day a few of us left to go home, she passed out in our apartment and was rushed to a German hospital. She spent several days in the hospital and paid not a penny. If this were to happen in America, many Americans would resent the fact that they paid for a foreigners hospital bill. However, this sentiment, in many countries with universal health care, doesn't exist.
Why is it so hard for Americans to support the idea of universal health care?
I Ain't Dead
To quote Banter (who may very well be dead...he posts even less than me).
WHAT UP? I've been gone. Real gone. Chris and I done had some adventures, including: Wakarusa, Colorado with Chris's fam, then our Appalachian Trail odyssey out east. We got back from the AT at 6AM Wednesday (my 27th birthday) and something was up with Blogger that I didn't get around to fixing until this morning. Now, I've got so much to talk about I'm just going to have to blog up a storm.
Where to even begin? Let's start with this morning. There's something about a Saturday morning, any time of the year, really, but in the summer especially. I got up early for a Saturday and went to the Tower Grove Farmers Market. TG is my favorite market, and what a great time to go; I got some tomatoes, garlic, corn, blueberries, new potatoes, and eggs (plus an iced coffee.) Then I swung over to the fairly-new Local Harvest Grocery to pick up some staples, since we have no food in the house. I came home, ate a bowl of sliced tomatoes with salt, pepper, some fresh purple basil from my backyard, and a bit of grated parm over the top, and it was sublime. Eating local foods is one of the best things your can do to lessen your carbon footprint, and there's no time like the present to get fresh produce. The tomatoes alone, people, seriously. I highly recommend the TG market and the Maplewood market on Wednesday afternoons at Schlafly. I am a big fan of Biver Farms and their organic produce.
Here are things I'm going to blog about in the new few days: our trip to the AT, Sicko, which I saw last night, shit I've been thinking about with my doctoral program starting in a week or so, the POTUS elections, cooking, and current pop culture.
Big ups to my girl Thorper1, who is marrying her Mr. Big today in WashMo. Country Roads, anyone?
WHAT UP? I've been gone. Real gone. Chris and I done had some adventures, including: Wakarusa, Colorado with Chris's fam, then our Appalachian Trail odyssey out east. We got back from the AT at 6AM Wednesday (my 27th birthday) and something was up with Blogger that I didn't get around to fixing until this morning. Now, I've got so much to talk about I'm just going to have to blog up a storm.
Where to even begin? Let's start with this morning. There's something about a Saturday morning, any time of the year, really, but in the summer especially. I got up early for a Saturday and went to the Tower Grove Farmers Market. TG is my favorite market, and what a great time to go; I got some tomatoes, garlic, corn, blueberries, new potatoes, and eggs (plus an iced coffee.) Then I swung over to the fairly-new Local Harvest Grocery to pick up some staples, since we have no food in the house. I came home, ate a bowl of sliced tomatoes with salt, pepper, some fresh purple basil from my backyard, and a bit of grated parm over the top, and it was sublime. Eating local foods is one of the best things your can do to lessen your carbon footprint, and there's no time like the present to get fresh produce. The tomatoes alone, people, seriously. I highly recommend the TG market and the Maplewood market on Wednesday afternoons at Schlafly. I am a big fan of Biver Farms and their organic produce.
Here are things I'm going to blog about in the new few days: our trip to the AT, Sicko, which I saw last night, shit I've been thinking about with my doctoral program starting in a week or so, the POTUS elections, cooking, and current pop culture.
Big ups to my girl Thorper1, who is marrying her Mr. Big today in WashMo. Country Roads, anyone?
6.04.2007
2nd Annual Backyard Trivia
Sweet Jesus.
Backyard trivia is fun, but someone needs to cut me off. Otherwise, I end up trying to throw umbrellas over power lines at 4 AM with some dudes and the alcoholic wannabe cougar across the street.
The trivia night itself was pretty fun. Only Paul showed up to defend the original Champagne of Trivia's title. I guess Dan is a pussy.
Congratulations to The Rabbits, also known as Standard Trivia, also known as many incantations of "This Guy is a Fine-Arts Pussy", who took home the title, narrowly defeating Mr. Wright's Nipples. Big ups to the teacher team of Miss Piggy's Taint Blister who arguably could have won, since Chris/Wolverine actually gave away answers as he read questions, and they would have had a real edge in the English teacher category had Chris not leveled the playing field. Sorry, guys, you have to play the lie. Categories included The Office, Inconsequential People, The Environment, Mr. Oliver's 10th Grade English, Finish the movie quote, Schlafly beer tasting, 80's Sitcom Theme Songs, 90's Rap, Nintendo Music, and Stoner Trivia.
Trivia was all fine and good, but we went ahead and got that there second keg, not a great idea, since half of it is still sitting in my backyard. The great part of the night was the fact that all the Epiphany hoosiers in my hood came out for the festivities. And when I say all, I don't mean the fairly normal neighbors on one side, who were hosting a 8th grade pool party but didn't have a problem with me saying "motherfucker" in a microphone approximately 24 times, and not the new neighbors, who, I'm sure, were cowering aghast watching the apocalypse happening in our backyard. No, I'm talking about the drunk lady across the street, who, while we were moving in, embraced us and said, "I'm sure going to miss you." She and her cousin? sister? some other cougar, were at one point engaged in a vehement discussion about how she shouldn't be in trouble if her son doesn't go to school (her son? just got home from juvy a month or so ago) and the cops were coming after her because her son was a delinquent. Well, yeah, keep countin' the days until Dirty Andy's 18th, lady. She then attracted a slew of people, including the guy two doors down who seemed okay, but three other people that I had no idea as to their identities. One got into with the neighbor because he once slashed her tires a while back. The other one, I swear to God, was Tim Blake Nelson's character in O Brother Where Art Thou, and I can't even remember specifics other than he seemed to have teleported here from deep in the Ozarks, maybe even Arkansas. The third, I don't even know. So that was just pure unintentional comedy throughout the night.
At four or so, when the last of the dudes + Stunner left, Chris had to kick the aspiring trashy cougar out even though she really wanted to clean our backyard, and then the guy next door warned Chris over the fence to stay away from her. Woke up the next morning to clean and almost puked. Seriously, I laid on the couch all day and watched Sex and the City reruns like I was back in college. All day. Like a crazy person in the same clothes and shit. At one point I couldn't find my laptop, so I started freaking out, sure that one of the unknown sketchy characters walked off with it. After about a half hour of that, my sister-in-law Beth came over to get her phone. I started to tell her about my computer, and she said, "You idiot. I told you I hid it last night so the hoosiers wouldn't steal it. I gave you a note and everything." I had no note and no recollection. Later, her husband, John, claims that I even read the note out loud and thanked Beth for her candor, but I don't remember and I'm just glad that Beth is sneaky-smart about this type of shit.
I encourage those of you who were there, particularly into the wee hours, to contribute your interpretation of the night's events. I think we all have some gaps in memory that could be filled in.
Backyard trivia is fun, but someone needs to cut me off. Otherwise, I end up trying to throw umbrellas over power lines at 4 AM with some dudes and the alcoholic wannabe cougar across the street.
The trivia night itself was pretty fun. Only Paul showed up to defend the original Champagne of Trivia's title. I guess Dan is a pussy.
Congratulations to The Rabbits, also known as Standard Trivia, also known as many incantations of "This Guy is a Fine-Arts Pussy", who took home the title, narrowly defeating Mr. Wright's Nipples. Big ups to the teacher team of Miss Piggy's Taint Blister who arguably could have won, since Chris/Wolverine actually gave away answers as he read questions, and they would have had a real edge in the English teacher category had Chris not leveled the playing field. Sorry, guys, you have to play the lie. Categories included The Office, Inconsequential People, The Environment, Mr. Oliver's 10th Grade English, Finish the movie quote, Schlafly beer tasting, 80's Sitcom Theme Songs, 90's Rap, Nintendo Music, and Stoner Trivia.
Trivia was all fine and good, but we went ahead and got that there second keg, not a great idea, since half of it is still sitting in my backyard. The great part of the night was the fact that all the Epiphany hoosiers in my hood came out for the festivities. And when I say all, I don't mean the fairly normal neighbors on one side, who were hosting a 8th grade pool party but didn't have a problem with me saying "motherfucker" in a microphone approximately 24 times, and not the new neighbors, who, I'm sure, were cowering aghast watching the apocalypse happening in our backyard. No, I'm talking about the drunk lady across the street, who, while we were moving in, embraced us and said, "I'm sure going to miss you." She and her cousin? sister? some other cougar, were at one point engaged in a vehement discussion about how she shouldn't be in trouble if her son doesn't go to school (her son? just got home from juvy a month or so ago) and the cops were coming after her because her son was a delinquent. Well, yeah, keep countin' the days until Dirty Andy's 18th, lady. She then attracted a slew of people, including the guy two doors down who seemed okay, but three other people that I had no idea as to their identities. One got into with the neighbor because he once slashed her tires a while back. The other one, I swear to God, was Tim Blake Nelson's character in O Brother Where Art Thou, and I can't even remember specifics other than he seemed to have teleported here from deep in the Ozarks, maybe even Arkansas. The third, I don't even know. So that was just pure unintentional comedy throughout the night.
At four or so, when the last of the dudes + Stunner left, Chris had to kick the aspiring trashy cougar out even though she really wanted to clean our backyard, and then the guy next door warned Chris over the fence to stay away from her. Woke up the next morning to clean and almost puked. Seriously, I laid on the couch all day and watched Sex and the City reruns like I was back in college. All day. Like a crazy person in the same clothes and shit. At one point I couldn't find my laptop, so I started freaking out, sure that one of the unknown sketchy characters walked off with it. After about a half hour of that, my sister-in-law Beth came over to get her phone. I started to tell her about my computer, and she said, "You idiot. I told you I hid it last night so the hoosiers wouldn't steal it. I gave you a note and everything." I had no note and no recollection. Later, her husband, John, claims that I even read the note out loud and thanked Beth for her candor, but I don't remember and I'm just glad that Beth is sneaky-smart about this type of shit.
I encourage those of you who were there, particularly into the wee hours, to contribute your interpretation of the night's events. I think we all have some gaps in memory that could be filled in.
5.30.2007
Just Let Her Cry, Man
Pour one out. Jeff Buckley died ten years ago today. Damn. Seems like only yesterday that "Last Goodbye" was on a commercial for MTV's Buzz Bin and I first fell in love with that song (it was the same Buzz Bin commercial as "Good" by Better Than Ezra). People can fucking say what they want, such as bullshit that Buckley's talent was mediocre at best and only gained prestige posthumously. One fucking listen to Live at Sin-E , where his haunting voice rocks your soul so painfully...just, wow. I can't say enough things.
Which brings me to hollerin at the oft-forgotten 90's alt rock. I know many of my friends were listening to punk and hardcore, but I was awash in whatever was in Sassy or on in the early morning or late at nite on MTV, because MTV played videos still and that was where you learned about music in Des Moines, Iowa, until about 1995, when 107.5 "The Dot" started playing a four-hour loop of alt-rock, no DJs, just to see if us hayseeds would actually listen to that there rock and roll. I remember Weezer's "The Sweater Song" was in heavy rotation, along with "Everything Zen" by Bush and "Lightening Crashes" by Live. This nostalgia makes me want to make a list of songs from the 90's that remind me of late middle school/early high school. It's my blog; I do what I want.
* "Possum Kingdom" The Toadies
* "Plush" STP
* "Hey Jealousy" Gin Blossoms
* "Stay" Shakespeare's Sister
* the totally classic "Stay" by Lisa Loeb and 9 Stories (shout out to Dirty Curty and Burns)
* "Cannonball" The Breeders
* "Tomorrow" Silverchair
* "Cornflake Girl" Tori Amos
* anything Smashing Pumpkins
* "Stand By You" The Pretenders
* "Linger" The Cranberries
* "Creep" Radiohead...fucking Radiohead just came with it in the 90's.
* REM's Monster
* "Under the Bridge" RHCP
* "Blister In The Sun" Violent Femmes (totally popularized by the epic My So-Called Life, along with anything by Buffalo Tom
* My very first concert experience, sans parents, was Toad the Wet Sprocket and Hootie and the Blowfish, spring break my freshman year of high school, and I have no fucking shame at all about it, because Toad rocks and had a little-person drummer at the time and it was the first time I ever smelled weed. And I thought I was a badass because I wore a tye-dyed t-shirt AND a Stussy hat. Because I was totally a skater. Or not.
Don't hate, I had many of these songs/artists on tape singles. Because I might not want the entire Lisa Loeb CD. But I do, pun completely intended for those Lisa Loeb fans out there. I bring all this nonsense up because there was a time, not so long ago, when commercial radio was good and quality and played music you wanted to listen to, that you loved to listen to. And that was 1993-1997.
5.23.2007
Greatest Teen Magazine In the World...Tribute.
I was reading Bust when I saw a book review for How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter to the Greatest Teen Magazine of All Time by Kara Jesella and Marisa Meltzer. Sassy? I remembered the glossy cover and felt an entirely-unknown emotion: nostalgia for my middle-school years.
Ironically, was first exposed the Sassy at church camp. I was eleven, the year was 1991, and I was in a cabin with a girl named Erin, who really didn't care too much about what Jesus was up to at a camp in rural Iowa. She wore flip-flops and sunglasses and had a tangle of brown hair down her back and two issues of Sassy in the bottom of her Caboodle. I had a blonde afro, glasses, and those Umbros with one teal leg and one purple leg, and I was in awe of her. While other girls read their bibles on the porch of our cabin, she and I pored over those two issues, over and over again, and I was officially in love with a magazine.
If you did not read Sassy, the premise is this: teen magazine for budding feminist, independent, alternative girls. Instead of tips on how to get boys to like you and what makeup to wear, Sassy had exclusive interviews with Kurt and Courtney, real sex advice, political features, and DIY articles. My bedroom walls went from pictures of pop-musicians to pictures of Sonic Youth, Evan Dando, 10,000 Maniacs, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, bands that seventh graders from the East Side of Des Moines had never even heard of, let alone listened to. Instead of the Guess jeans and rugby shirts that cool kids wore at my school, it was okay for me to wear Chucks and thrift-store corduroys.
Sassy was too sassy for it's own good, and it's ass-kicking format was dropped in 1994, right when I moved to the suburbs, only to be replaced, briefly, blasphemously, in 1994 by a Teen clone that was eventually put out of its misery, along with the few readers who hung on to the last death-rattle, in 1996. Infamous editor Jane Pratt then founded Jane, hoping to take the cult-following of Sassy into their adult years, but Jane never retained that indie spirit of Sassy, and Jane eventually left Jane, and legions of readers found their way to Bust. But it was Sassy, dear Sassy, that paved the way.
Sassy was smart and empowering, and for, me, validated my stand in the struggle that all adolescents experience: that in the quest to figure out who you are, who you really are is completely okay. It was okay to be smart, even if you were ostracized for it. It was okay to crush on the local gayboy. It was okay to listen to weird bands that weren't on the radio, and to be pro-choice, and to have chipped nail-polish, and to not define yourself by what boys at your school thought of you.
People who know my family wonder how I turned out so adamantly liberal, feminist, independent, and political when my family is fairly apolitical (though they love the gays and their guns) and, at times, downright conservative. I, too, wondered where my identity developed--and I think it absolutely comes from Sassy. I learned everything I needed to know to survive middle school from my surrogate big sisters: Jane, Christina, Marjorie, Karen, and the rest of the writers at the greatest teen mag of all time.
5.17.2007
Blah
Six days, six days, six days left in the school year. I actually had a sick day yesterday, because I'm sick of bullshit. In the past week, I have been assaulted by a student, suffered through the insanity that is running "Field Day", lost our first district game because my girls played like a bunch of heartless scrubs, prematurely ending our season, among countless other annoyances at work. I've been pretty removed from work while it simultaneously consumes my life, if that makes any sense.
In other news, I got one hell of a sunburn from Team Awesome's third place finish at the Tournament of Champions. Eight hours of kickball and drunk Dudes in some hot weather is enough for this Devastator. I'm glad the season is over.
I've got several things I'm going to be writing about, I just have to get some motivation, so that may not happen until all my school stuff, which I am desperately procrastinating about, gets done.
Also, The Office's finale was awesome! Ryan's going to be Michael's boss? So, so, so great for next year.
In other news, I got one hell of a sunburn from Team Awesome's third place finish at the Tournament of Champions. Eight hours of kickball and drunk Dudes in some hot weather is enough for this Devastator. I'm glad the season is over.
I've got several things I'm going to be writing about, I just have to get some motivation, so that may not happen until all my school stuff, which I am desperately procrastinating about, gets done.
Also, The Office's finale was awesome! Ryan's going to be Michael's boss? So, so, so great for next year.
5.01.2007
Weekend Update
Despite the fact that I spent an entire day on public transportation all over St Louis last week, I managed to have quite an adventure on Saturday. I took the #30 bus to Soulard Market to get some green things and anarchist cookies. For some reason, I was under the impression that the #30 bus just did this little loop through downtown, went back through Soulard, and went back on Arsenal, so I just caught the bus at the same place I got off, thinking it would be cool to see downtown while the Cards fans were all loitering and what not.
An hour later, I'm in Wellston and I realize, um, yeah, maybe I should get off soon. Like the St Charles Rock Road MetroLink station. Where I ran into one of my students, then had to take MetroLink all the way back to Shrewsbury and wait for Chris to come pick me up. Don't ask.
Other than that, it was a chill weekend. Managed to, with the assistance of it being our friend Kim's birthday and she and her husband were in town from San Fran, finagle Chris into taking me to Terrene on Friday, which was delish. Had lunch with Chris's family. Drank some beers on Saturday with Rev Em and Joe and Christine. Finally returned to kickball after, no joke, a one-month hiatus, had to pitch against Tower Pub, and got lit up. I suck. Got a great sunburn on my shoulders and was outside a ton. As of today, there are 18 days left of school, and I get to take one of those off on Friday.
In Pop Culture News:
1) How did word of a new double Elliott Smith CD elude me until I read it in Jane magazine? Huh? One week from today. Obviously, Chris wants to camp out and get it at midnight, although I don't know where.
2) People, seriously, watch The Bachelor: An Officer and a Gentleman before it's too late. Comedy gold.
3) The latest issue of Rolling Stone, which is its 40th (!) anniversary edition has amazing interviews in it: Bright Eyes, Bob Dylan (by Jann Wenner), Michael Moore, Jimmy Carter. Seriously, check them out. It's awesome.
An hour later, I'm in Wellston and I realize, um, yeah, maybe I should get off soon. Like the St Charles Rock Road MetroLink station. Where I ran into one of my students, then had to take MetroLink all the way back to Shrewsbury and wait for Chris to come pick me up. Don't ask.
Other than that, it was a chill weekend. Managed to, with the assistance of it being our friend Kim's birthday and she and her husband were in town from San Fran, finagle Chris into taking me to Terrene on Friday, which was delish. Had lunch with Chris's family. Drank some beers on Saturday with Rev Em and Joe and Christine. Finally returned to kickball after, no joke, a one-month hiatus, had to pitch against Tower Pub, and got lit up. I suck. Got a great sunburn on my shoulders and was outside a ton. As of today, there are 18 days left of school, and I get to take one of those off on Friday.
In Pop Culture News:
1) How did word of a new double Elliott Smith CD elude me until I read it in Jane magazine? Huh? One week from today. Obviously, Chris wants to camp out and get it at midnight, although I don't know where.
2) People, seriously, watch The Bachelor: An Officer and a Gentleman before it's too late. Comedy gold.
3) The latest issue of Rolling Stone, which is its 40th (!) anniversary edition has amazing interviews in it: Bright Eyes, Bob Dylan (by Jann Wenner), Michael Moore, Jimmy Carter. Seriously, check them out. It's awesome.
Big Timer.
So my boo's blog has been noticed by a bigger blog, and you can now read one of his posts, probably more, at The Daily Scare, who "exposes media and government propaganda, obfuscation, scare tactics, and fearmongering". Right up his alley! Give him some hits. No, not that kind, you assholes.
4.26.2007
Big Sigh
What follows is a much-needed rant. If you have no interest in my selfish emotions, don't keep reading.
I can't be around kids any more.
I spent all day traipsing around the city on a field trip with kids, who were undoubtedly cool kids, but students all the same. I got back, changed into soccer clothes, rode the bus for 45 minutes to Hillsboro while finishing a book I had to read for Green Options, won a game but had to deal with stupid drama of KIDS, rode the bus back, drove home, talked to Chris for a minute, then finished reading the book, wrote a review, and posted it all in time to watch Lost, only to watch that and then collapse in bed. I woke up feeling the shitty coming of a cold, still exhausted, facing a full day including school, soccer pictures, soccer practice, then modeling in a school fashion show. Guess which one I had to gracefully bow out of when I got to school this morning?
I love 90% my students 90% of the time. I really do. But there are those days when I just can't deal with the aftermath of a kid skipping class, or calling another kid "faggot" in the hallway, or punching each other and screaming down the hallway, or flaking out on a commitment that I have to pick up slack for. Kids are kids are kids, and normally I can deal with their lack of frontal-lobe development. That's 95% of the time. Maybe even higher. But once or twice a semester, I just can't deal. I can't deal with the neediness, the drama, the little shit that doesn't matter, the baggage that comes with being a teacher. The ever-growing to-do list. The shit that you have to take home.
I can see how a large percentage of teachers leave within the first three years.
I can't be around kids any more.
I spent all day traipsing around the city on a field trip with kids, who were undoubtedly cool kids, but students all the same. I got back, changed into soccer clothes, rode the bus for 45 minutes to Hillsboro while finishing a book I had to read for Green Options, won a game but had to deal with stupid drama of KIDS, rode the bus back, drove home, talked to Chris for a minute, then finished reading the book, wrote a review, and posted it all in time to watch Lost, only to watch that and then collapse in bed. I woke up feeling the shitty coming of a cold, still exhausted, facing a full day including school, soccer pictures, soccer practice, then modeling in a school fashion show. Guess which one I had to gracefully bow out of when I got to school this morning?
I love 90% my students 90% of the time. I really do. But there are those days when I just can't deal with the aftermath of a kid skipping class, or calling another kid "faggot" in the hallway, or punching each other and screaming down the hallway, or flaking out on a commitment that I have to pick up slack for. Kids are kids are kids, and normally I can deal with their lack of frontal-lobe development. That's 95% of the time. Maybe even higher. But once or twice a semester, I just can't deal. I can't deal with the neediness, the drama, the little shit that doesn't matter, the baggage that comes with being a teacher. The ever-growing to-do list. The shit that you have to take home.
I can see how a large percentage of teachers leave within the first three years.
4.23.2007
Well, That's Dibble.
So remember last week when I posted about the BSC blog? Well, I sent the link to my favorite pop culture blogger ever, Whitney Matheson of USA Today's Pop Candy. And I got a fat shout-out when she posted about it today.
Scroll down to "Baby Sitters Forever"
My influence is nationwide.
PS The headline is a BSC reference.
Scroll down to "Baby Sitters Forever"
My influence is nationwide.
PS The headline is a BSC reference.
Don't You People Have Any Decency?
Fucking Kirksville. Just when I think I’m grown and my days of having out-of-contol Alumni Weekends, the Ville lures me in with it’s siren song of mediocre amenities, cheap-as-hell beer, and sheer walkability.
It started innocently enough. This year I made the switch to Saturday night only. We were going to get up Saturday, drive straight to the game, have a brief respite at the local Days Inn (incidentally, one of the most unpleasant lodging experiences of my life, fucking cold showers, a smoking room when I asked for non-smoking, and the room not ready at check-in time. And a manager that deflected every single complaint.) and cocktails with friends. Plans got more complicated when I got a Friday-night drunk dial from my boo Redding. Several of the football guys were going to be in town.
“Shit just got meatier,” said Chris, who hasn’t even seen me at even close to my greatest meatiness.
We rolled into town listening to the new Bright Eyes, Cassadega, and I was late to the game, we lost, I’m old, no big. Then, the lovely Molly, Abby, and Darly Jo (three generations of Adams women) took us out for some Mexican food, where we shared good times watching the cutest almost-three-year-old in my life. She knows sign language.
There was more drinking, more old soccer friends, a dude climbing a tree, some PBR, same-old-same-old. Here comes trouble: two hour free beer at the Dukum, courtesy of the Crotches. Tie. One. On.
These were highly intellectual conversations.
This is the story of my friendship with JJ.
This is what Mike and I look like during a happy reunion.
This encompasses the entire night.
Highlights include:
• Walking all over Kirksville. Just getting ready for Earth Day.
• One of our friends (who shall remain nameless) getting arrested by the KPD (complete with requisite porn stache), who decided that it was time for some police brutality at last call. Fucking dicks. Some shit doesn’t change. Hey, don’t worry about the dude that is stone cold dead in the bush right there, you better fucking break some guy’s arm for sitting on top of a car and not kissing your ass.
• Wolverine came! Great. Crotch and Wolverine, walking down the alleys of Kirksville, talking about god knows what, carrying a case of bottles, yelling about how much they hate cops. We are all adults.
• Molly going home at two-ish in a Royal Tenenbaum’s cab while Chris earnestly and unironically waved goodbye. Funniest shit of my life.
• Wolverine, part two: I woke up this morning to go the bathroom and stepped in a huge puddle of urine. Not like a few drops around the toilet bowl. Six ounces, at least, in the middle of the bathroom floor. Awesome. Pee on my foot.
• Got a fat Aloha from the Ell Train, who said, “I miss you guys, and I wish I was there, except I’m on a beach in Hawaii, so not really.” Tru.
• Wolverine, part three: who passes out, fully clothed, with french fries IN THEIR HANDS? My baby-daddy, that’s who! It’s cool, guy, let me get those McNuggets, too. Wouldn’t want you to wake up with a nugget in your crack.
• Big ups to Steph and Matt, who tried to get said friend out of drunk tank, to no avail. Trust me, they were our best hope.
• Wolverine, finale: thirty-two ounces of Gatorade, straight to the groin region, this morning, a brief thirty seconds after he realized that both his wallet and our camera were missing (both recovered, KARMA!).
So that’s what’s up. As Chris said as we rolled out of town, “It couldn’t have been better unless Curtis was there.” Truer words were never spoken. Don’t worry, Dirty, you were there in spirit, mostly in the alley on the way home.
It started innocently enough. This year I made the switch to Saturday night only. We were going to get up Saturday, drive straight to the game, have a brief respite at the local Days Inn (incidentally, one of the most unpleasant lodging experiences of my life, fucking cold showers, a smoking room when I asked for non-smoking, and the room not ready at check-in time. And a manager that deflected every single complaint.) and cocktails with friends. Plans got more complicated when I got a Friday-night drunk dial from my boo Redding. Several of the football guys were going to be in town.
“Shit just got meatier,” said Chris, who hasn’t even seen me at even close to my greatest meatiness.
We rolled into town listening to the new Bright Eyes, Cassadega, and I was late to the game, we lost, I’m old, no big. Then, the lovely Molly, Abby, and Darly Jo (three generations of Adams women) took us out for some Mexican food, where we shared good times watching the cutest almost-three-year-old in my life. She knows sign language.
There was more drinking, more old soccer friends, a dude climbing a tree, some PBR, same-old-same-old. Here comes trouble: two hour free beer at the Dukum, courtesy of the Crotches. Tie. One. On.
These were highly intellectual conversations.
This is the story of my friendship with JJ.
This is what Mike and I look like during a happy reunion.
This encompasses the entire night.
Highlights include:
• Walking all over Kirksville. Just getting ready for Earth Day.
• One of our friends (who shall remain nameless) getting arrested by the KPD (complete with requisite porn stache), who decided that it was time for some police brutality at last call. Fucking dicks. Some shit doesn’t change. Hey, don’t worry about the dude that is stone cold dead in the bush right there, you better fucking break some guy’s arm for sitting on top of a car and not kissing your ass.
• Wolverine came! Great. Crotch and Wolverine, walking down the alleys of Kirksville, talking about god knows what, carrying a case of bottles, yelling about how much they hate cops. We are all adults.
• Molly going home at two-ish in a Royal Tenenbaum’s cab while Chris earnestly and unironically waved goodbye. Funniest shit of my life.
• Wolverine, part two: I woke up this morning to go the bathroom and stepped in a huge puddle of urine. Not like a few drops around the toilet bowl. Six ounces, at least, in the middle of the bathroom floor. Awesome. Pee on my foot.
• Got a fat Aloha from the Ell Train, who said, “I miss you guys, and I wish I was there, except I’m on a beach in Hawaii, so not really.” Tru.
• Wolverine, part three: who passes out, fully clothed, with french fries IN THEIR HANDS? My baby-daddy, that’s who! It’s cool, guy, let me get those McNuggets, too. Wouldn’t want you to wake up with a nugget in your crack.
• Big ups to Steph and Matt, who tried to get said friend out of drunk tank, to no avail. Trust me, they were our best hope.
• Wolverine, finale: thirty-two ounces of Gatorade, straight to the groin region, this morning, a brief thirty seconds after he realized that both his wallet and our camera were missing (both recovered, KARMA!).
So that’s what’s up. As Chris said as we rolled out of town, “It couldn’t have been better unless Curtis was there.” Truer words were never spoken. Don’t worry, Dirty, you were there in spirit, mostly in the alley on the way home.
4.18.2007
On Gun Violence
I suppose I would be remiss if I neglected to mention the VT shootings. I have two major thoughts. The first is obviously intense sympathy and sadness. I was reading articles about it today, particularly one about the Holocaust survivor who died saving his students, and I was very sad. I'm also sad because in a tragedy such as this, it seems as though there were clear warning signs, and many people at VT (including poet Nikki Giovanni) tried to take steps to help this clearly troubled young man, but it was not enough. I cannot imagine what drives someone to commit such atrocities. Also, 178 people were killed in Baghdad today, 178 people who were husbands, wives, children, sisters, brothers, friends, mothers, fathers, aunts, and uncles. There will probably be no convocations or candlelight vigils in their honor.
The second thought was about the nature of gun rights in America today. The NRA was just in town this past weekend, so I was already thinking about it. I am ambiguous in my thoughts on gun control. I come from a hunting family. We have crazy dead animals in our house (although Kim, after years of struggle, has removed them from any common area where the general public might be exposed to them). I grew up around guns. I even took a class in high school (forensic pathology) where we got to shoot handguns at the shooting range. I am aware that people have reason such as hunting to own guns, and most of those people do so responsible. My brothers (Andrew is still an avid hunter, Jake, not so much) learned gun safety at an early age, and my dad's guns were always locked up in an insanely huge gun safe.
That being said, I do not understand people who passionately defend the 2nd Amendment. The purpose of guns is to wound or kill living creatures. If you are not a hunter, I do not understand having firearms in your house. If it is properly stored, what are the chances that if someone breaks into your house, you will be able to unlock your gun, load it, and fire it before the burglar rapes and kills you? If it is not properly stored, well, have you ever seen motherfucking 90210? Kids will find that shit and shoot each other accidentally, probably after smoking weed. Just kidding, but for real, accidental shootings happen.
Some may make the argument that guns don't kill people, people kill people. That's true, but it is a whole lot easier if said people have guns. You don't see some socially-tortured trench-coat-mafia kid committing mass murder with a garotte. It's just not happening. Another argument against gun control is that criminals will continue to get guns, so laws restricting their criminal use are futile. If this reasoning is correct, then why do we have laws restricting anything? For example, drugs. Anyone can get drugs. My kids say it's easier to get weed than alcohol if you are in high school. But we do have drug laws, some more pervasive than many would like. As it stands, anyone can just walk into a gun store and, provided they pass a less-than-rigorous background check and wait a prescribed period of time, buy a device whose sole purpose is to severely wound and or kill a living being with minimal effort. It seems to me that if it was more difficult for the average citizen to get a gun, that would make it more difficult for the average criminal to get a gun because there would be less guns out there. I'm not talking about Tony Soprano here. But for random aspiring petty criminal, it would be more difficult. Is that not a good thing?
Would a thirty-day waiting period have prevented the VT tragedy?
The second thought was about the nature of gun rights in America today. The NRA was just in town this past weekend, so I was already thinking about it. I am ambiguous in my thoughts on gun control. I come from a hunting family. We have crazy dead animals in our house (although Kim, after years of struggle, has removed them from any common area where the general public might be exposed to them). I grew up around guns. I even took a class in high school (forensic pathology) where we got to shoot handguns at the shooting range. I am aware that people have reason such as hunting to own guns, and most of those people do so responsible. My brothers (Andrew is still an avid hunter, Jake, not so much) learned gun safety at an early age, and my dad's guns were always locked up in an insanely huge gun safe.
That being said, I do not understand people who passionately defend the 2nd Amendment. The purpose of guns is to wound or kill living creatures. If you are not a hunter, I do not understand having firearms in your house. If it is properly stored, what are the chances that if someone breaks into your house, you will be able to unlock your gun, load it, and fire it before the burglar rapes and kills you? If it is not properly stored, well, have you ever seen motherfucking 90210? Kids will find that shit and shoot each other accidentally, probably after smoking weed. Just kidding, but for real, accidental shootings happen.
Some may make the argument that guns don't kill people, people kill people. That's true, but it is a whole lot easier if said people have guns. You don't see some socially-tortured trench-coat-mafia kid committing mass murder with a garotte. It's just not happening. Another argument against gun control is that criminals will continue to get guns, so laws restricting their criminal use are futile. If this reasoning is correct, then why do we have laws restricting anything? For example, drugs. Anyone can get drugs. My kids say it's easier to get weed than alcohol if you are in high school. But we do have drug laws, some more pervasive than many would like. As it stands, anyone can just walk into a gun store and, provided they pass a less-than-rigorous background check and wait a prescribed period of time, buy a device whose sole purpose is to severely wound and or kill a living being with minimal effort. It seems to me that if it was more difficult for the average citizen to get a gun, that would make it more difficult for the average criminal to get a gun because there would be less guns out there. I'm not talking about Tony Soprano here. But for random aspiring petty criminal, it would be more difficult. Is that not a good thing?
Would a thirty-day waiting period have prevented the VT tragedy?
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