Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Short, So Make it Sweet

The lunar eclipse is tonight and it's got me thinking about some things. The lunar eclipse fascinates me far more than the solar eclipse. And, I think that's because it shows the power of the sun. Throughout all of human history, we have built our lives around the sun. It's what makes our day a day, our night a night. It's incredible enough to think that the light emanating from the sun can actually illuminate a ball of dirt bright enough for us to see from thousands of miles away. But, now with the lunar eclipse, we see that the sun can go even further. It even affects the change of color the moon reflects. And this is all in the nature of the sun. These celestial phenomena are nothing of the sort to the sun. It is simply the sun doing what its supposed to do, and it has the whole world waiting up at night to stare at something it has done for who knows how long.

And then there's us, there's me. What will people stay up late at night to watch that I can do? How can I reflect my work and affect a change so great that it lights up the night sky? I need to make a change, I am often too afraid to make the leap. But it takes a leap to make the gap from nothing to something. You've got to be in the air, falling, hoping that you land on solid ground to have anything at all. Otherwise, you're left without exploration, without chances taken, without a life lived. This life is short, and I am too often silent. My mind screams and my mouth is sealed shut.

The sun does not run from what it was made to do. It shines brightly day and night; all know and feel its presence. It's about time I started doing what I was made to do, or at least trying to find out what that is. I know it is not sitting in silence; it's about time I picked myself up started to take action. So I ask you readers, keep me accountable, make me leap; and maybe I can give you my own lunar eclipse.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Constitution of Old

Who needs the Constitution any more. It's an old, out-dated piece of paper that only history classes are concerned with. We don't need any of those silly Articles or Amendments. Why, because We the People of the United States, in order to form a more safe union, do as we are told. At least that's what the TSA (Transportation Security Administration) is banking on.

Recently, it's come to the public's attention that airport security has gone off the deep end. There are now two options (so accommodating of them) for those of you traveling via airplane. One-go through a glorified X-ray machine that looks under your clothes and takes pictures of you (they won't get on the internet we swear!). Or, two-get a pat down from a TSA agent that's more uncomfortable than flying in the cargo section of your plane (private VIP room available if you talk to the right people!) Yes, the government's really missed the mark on this one. Whatever happened to those archaic rules about right to privacy or illegal search and seizure?

In any event, we are headed for a country that assumes its citizens guilty, until proven innocent. So, I can do nothing but commend those brave few who have done what they can to stand up against The Man. Now don't get too crazy, we Americans can't actually let go of our speedy travel; there are no train rides in the futures of many people. Instead we just start stripping. That's right, an outbreak of bathing suit wearers presenting themselves for the pat-down have popped up all over the country. You want to get all up in the American people's business, government?--well have at it; let's make those agents just as uncomfortable as us, and let them see what a violation this is.

I'll leave you begging you to remember the Constitution of Old, written out from those first Americans who felt tyranny so that the monarch could be kept a safe world power, and who spoke out vehemently against it. This is what we are born from, what our country has been called to do as, more than anything else, leaders of the Free world, not the safe one.

The Constitution of the United States Amendment IV (12/15/1791): "The right of the people to be secure in their persons [...] against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated"

And if that's not good enough for anyone out there to stand up for what is theirs let us remember one document more--

The Declaration of Independence (7/4/1775): "But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their [the people's] right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government"

All I have left to say is if I must, I will throw off my clothes, to throw off such Government, and join one more Speedo to the cause of American Freedom.

Moral Code

It's been nearly a month since my last post (sorry about that one). You've heard all the excuses...writing papers, job search, blah blah blah...so I won't bore you with them. I've recently been thinking about the lengths people are willing to go to get something they want. I want to mention an article that I came across in The Chronicle Review.

So, this article in the Chronicle Review is written by an unnamed writer who has been making a living off of students. He claims to make over 60,000 dollars a year writing the very papers that I slave over weekly. That's right, there are services out there that will write your paper for you, so that you don't even need to be a literate member of society to get a college degree, or post-college degree for that matter. Churning out 70-80 pages a day, this guy has written innumerable undergraduate papers and theses; he's also written 12, that's right--12, dissertations for various fields of study. And these kids get away with it. The Shadow Scholar he calls himself, writing for whomever should be in need, the Robin Hood of students it would seem. But what is this doing for our society? This is not stealing from the rich to give to the poor, it is not giving means to those who would otherwise not have them. No, this is reinforcing what is so wrong now. Helping the rich, the lazy, the less deserving have their chance at graduation and at succeeding where other hard workers have failed. This Shadow Scholar blames the school system for the wrong-doings of students. But who are we to tell others to fix the problem when we are so integrally part of it. Action must be taken on an individual level. So I cry out to you Shadow Scholar, not to write my papers or get me my A's, instead I call for action on your own part; stand against this tyranny you comment on and let students actually earn their way.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Next Step

Yesterday I turned in my finalized resume and applied for a (nearly) real job. Ok, so it's not exactly a job, but it's a program that would get me a job, which is still pretty exciting. To explain myself, I applied to a program that, if I'm accepted, will seek out applications and open positions at private schools around the nation. So, if I get this one right it cuts out a ton of work on my part, which I am always ready for.

It's a pretty exciting and humbling experience writing a resume. Basically I've learned that all of the "relevant" things I have done in my life can be listed and explained within a single typed page. Now, it's exciting because I can look at something substantial and say, "I've done all of these things, and they are important and valuable to my life and career." It's humbling because, well, "all of these things" ends up being really about five things. Then you begin to wonder how impressive these five things really are, and now I'm beginning to understand why people love college so much. You don't need to lay yourself on the line for your next move. You just say, "hey that class looks interesting. I think I'll take Microeconomics; I'm not an econ. major but who cares." And then when you find out Microeconomics is actually a terrible class you simply say, "Nevermind, I think I'll drop that and it's on to Yoga: Theory and Practice (yes, it's a real class)." Now there's a real chance I won't get selected for what I'm asking, and if not I can't just sign up for the next job.

But, I can't be wholly pessimistic about this next step thing. It's very exciting, I must say, to think that a year from now, even 8 months from now, I could be standing in front of my own class of students teaching them about Fitzgerald or Milton. Or, maybe I will be sitting at a desk in New York City reading manuscripts and making book deals. Either way, I'm finding that the "next step" is quickly becoming "this step," and I can't help but daydream a little about the oncoming year.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Addiction

This bonus post brought to you by Philosophy 112 and Kant's super-boring moral theory. With all of the work I've had this week, I've needed to step away from my severe addiction. No, not coffee, that's moved beyond addiction to, I think, an actual biological component of my blood. If you'll recall, I recently discovered the glories of streaming television on my computer. Only working 8-10 hours a day and not knowing many people where I was living this summer left me ample time to fall into worlds of serial killers and ad-men, among others. This infatuation grew into a serious amount of time a week (especially with new series starting up). But with all the work, practice, writing, reading, and studying I've fallen behind--my entertainment well parched. I do plan on making up significant grounds this weekend, but I've recently been confronted with the fact that such a time commitment in my life doesn't contribute to anything. So, to remedy this, I'm taking the Good Ole' American route an taking addiction and turning it into workaholism, that's fine, right? At least in an attempt to share my addiction, I thought I would include some recommendations and share the entertainment wealth.
1. Friday Night Lights. I've true Southern friends to thank for this find. It's not a show that is "real" or a show of "reality." Instead it is simply a story of life itself, small town relationships, family dynamics, and personal conflicts and goals that make you invested in the characters' lives.
2. Mad Men. The wondrous (and troubling) age of the 1960's advertising world. The plot follows the mysterious Don Draper (who is he, really?) and his mood swinging ups and downs. The viewer is taken through a whirlwind of brilliant ideas, too much drinking, and identity crises that question the line between who we really are and who we are portraying ourselves to be. This is a psychological study of a man trying to hold the radioactive parts of his life together and take control...the only question is, will he succeed?
3. Arrested Development. For some unknown reason, not on the air anymore, but should none the less be watched. Unbelievably cancelled after 3 seasons, Arrested Development has too many jokes to laugh at. It follows a family that is beyond dysfunctional, who bring elevated comedy in direct contact with the absurd. From chicken dances (that look nothing like a chicken mind you), to social satire, to a lawyer named Bob Loblaw this show has something to laugh at for everyone.
4. 30 Rock. Smart comedy at it's best, Tina Fey has the entertainment industry in a satire headlock. Following the SNL-like TGS inner-workings, we watch as Tina Fey orchestrates comedy that A-listers can't get enough of (Matt Damon and Queen Latifah as two of the latest guest appearances). And let's not forget Alec Baldwin, who's forced whisper commands the stage, as an NBC exec. who we've recently discovered attended Harvard Business School where he was voted "Most." I can't help but laugh out loud at this show that should be inducted immediately into the comedic Hall of Fame (with reruns forever).

Just a small gateway into the drug that is television. Perhaps, more to follow.

Burned Out

I've had it. I can't work, I can't move, I can barely even keep my eyes open. This week has ruined y resolve scholastic, athletic and otherwise. It hadn't been so bad up until Wednesday. Just the normal: read a book, write a paper, go swimming, go to work, pass out at the end of the day. But, with break quickly approaching, everything intensified. Professors and coaches must be under the impression that "we need to et a lot of work done now because there are TWO ENTIRE DAYS that these kids will have off with nothing to do." And so, the worst week of the semester, so far, began.
I'll just comment on one of my days to give an idea. Wednesday, already a busy day for me, was the longest day I've had in recent memory. It began at 6:30AM. To put that into perspective for the non-college student, it's like waking up at 4AM for any normal person. So waking up 5 hours after having gone to bed, I head to swim practice, and no, a morning swim is not revitalizing it's exhausting. AFter breakfast, I've attached my coffee IV and have headed off to work at the Writing Center, tutoring for an hour and attempting to complete some homework. Walking, zombie-like, to the cafe, I stop for a quick lunch (hoping it will wake me up, but not succeeding in such hopes) before my 3 hour English senior seminar. This may have been the most painful. Three hours of attempting to follow and contribute to discussion while trying to hide the fact that my head is drooping in sleep and my "eye-blinks" are getting longer and longer. But it finally ended, in time for me to sprint over the the pool for 2 hours of afternoon practice (again not revitalizing). This ending, dinner eaten, I go back to the WRiting Center fro another two hours of tutoring session. Now it's 10:30PM (16 hours into the day) and I can finally go home and...start writing that Philosophy Paper due Thursday. Half delirious and 4 coffees into the day I'm simply hoping I'm making complete sentences. 5 pages of philosophy written, it's time to move on to the reading due the next day. Finally finishing at 2:30AM I fall asleep almost instantly, before I do it all again the next day. "The best days of our life" it's said; after a 20 hour work day I've got an argument to say there is reserved a place for some of the hardest days of your life in these 4 years. Now I stumble to the finish line--fall pause--two days not to catch up on rest, but the work that doesn't fit into the 24 hours we are allotted daily.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Trailblazing

I'm confronted with thoughts of the future as I think back to the past year. It's come to my attention that I have not lived at home for an extended period of time for over a year, and two summers ago may have been the last time I will have ever lived at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. I imagine this is part of the senior year experience, but I'm becoming uncomfortable with the idea of "real life." It may come as a surprise, but I'm not nearly as afraid of not getting a job as I should be. It's not my career that I'm concerned with starting; it's rather what it will be like to leave all that I know. I have a community of friendship and comfort at home. Here at school I can contact this community often, not to mention the friendships and mentors that I've gained while at Dickinson. I'm thrilled to start my own path and to be working with what I love, but I fear abandoning the community who has helped to raise me. I think I must come to terms with the idea that life is difficult in this way. It is about expanding and creating your own path. This is a journey through life; I am a traveler and sometimes I must blaze my own trail. Though I may be caught in the jungle and vines and foliage are thick and frightening, it may be the best way to find the river, to find my source of life and what I live for.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Multi-Tasking

It's been just over two weeks since my last post, but it feels like much longer. It has been a whirlwind, to say the least, of a start to the semester. It's two weeks later and I've written 4 papers, read 5 books, and worked 45 hours outside of school work and athletics. So much for a light senior year. In fact, the only reason I'm writing this post now is because Im doing it during a philosophy lecture in my Ethics class. Yeah, it's even less exciting than it sounds. Somehow that must be impressive, but my boredom has taken away even the impressiveness of that feat. I mean Ferris Bueller's teacher would win an award for Most Animated Teacher compared to this guy. In other news, the swim season starts on Thursday, which means teamwork, hard work, feelings of drowning, and the excitement of competition; oh, and even less time for anything else. But, never fear, there's always another philosophy class to write my next post.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

The End is Near

Well, school has once again begun. But this year is a little different than the past 16 school years, because this year is the last year I will be an official student. In a short 9 months I will be standing with my classmates, diploma in hand, saying goodbye to 3 month vacations forever. Of course I could be heading into some time off longer than three months, but unemployment isn't really like vacation. This is a senioritis of a different brand. Three years ago, it was all about graduating and getting through the year quickly. Today, I walk around campus and sense a communal desire to make this last, to stretch these 9 months as far as they will go, to pack enough parties and plans for 10 years into the waning hours of our scholastic lives. Who can blame us? We are living the life; we've got sports to play and friends to see. All we have to do is plan around a few hours of classes. So with one year left, why not fully embrace the college lifestyle and enjoy every last minute I get before they hand me that diploma, my certificate to the real world. The end is near and just in time for my next beginning.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Grand Central Phenomenon

I was told a few weeks ago that I had finally gotten the complete New Yorker experience. So, what was this culminating event that pushed me into knowing the greatest city in the world? Well, it was getting caught in a Grand Central back up of course. That's right, on a fateful Saturday afternoon electrical wires blew out near Greenwich, NY leaving GCT without any trains in or out. It's 4PM when I find out the wonderful news. And, at this point I really thought it was wonderful news because this particular Saturday was the day of the consolation World Cup game. Grand Central being so user friendly had a television set up for all to watch the game. So with this delay I was going to catch the whole second half of the game. I was grateful for the delay for about 45 minutes. What can be better than a huge group of people hanging out enjoying the beautiful game together? Little did I know this was just the beginning. It's now 5PM, the game long over (an exciting match resulting in a German 3-2 win over Uruguay) I'm sitting on the floor against a wall of the Main Concourse. About an hour into the fiasco I begin to notice the first step of what I've come to call the Grand Central Phenomenon.

This first step is actually not much of a phenomenon in itself. It's actually what anyone would naturally expect from people being so inconvenienced. I began to see a commonality among the many faces--annoyed, disgruntled, even angry expressions. Accompanied by exasperated comments all sounding pretty much like "Of course this would happen today, when I have to be back for (insert important thing here)." As the minutes and hours progressed though, the important things began to take on broader and broader definitions. 45 minutes in, these things were "picking up my children from the babysitter" or "making a business meeting." These statements said in a disappointed or upset voice. After 2 hours of waiting, important things turned into "I was supposed to wash my favorite shirt today!" and "Man, I needed to pick up apples when I got home, now it's too late."

Apart from these perpetual complainers an amazing thing began to happen. At 6PM, two hours into the terminal crash, I saw people starting to talk to complete strangers. Boredom drives people to strange things. And instead of the people banning together in anger storming the GCT employees, they began to calm down and take things in stride, myself included. The inconvenience turned into a great way to meet new people. And I discovered New York is actually the melting pot (or is it a tossed salad now?) they say it is. I met a student from Duke University (as hard as it was to overcome that rivalry) traveling to New Haven, a Brussels native visiting the city for the weekend, a Londoner who had moved to the states recently, two German students teaching in the US, and a newly-wed couple with a baby on the way.

It's 9PM and I'm finally en route, sitting on a packed train, and I'm amazed at this phenomenon at Grand Central. Instead of people becoming increasingly frustrated and hostile, silences and walls were broken and people became kinder and friendlier. Seats were given up, life stories were told, and real interest was taken in others. Why do bad things happen? I don't know, but if nothing better comes of them, people really do come together because of them.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

20 things in 20 years

As my 21st birthday approaches I've been considering how much (or little) I've learned since I've been on this earth. Finding that I had at least a few remarks to make I thought I would impart my wisdom to future generations of 20 year olds as well as remind the middle aged reader that those mid-life crises are totally worth it, cause these first 20 years rock! Now before you get ahead of yourself, I have managed to learn more than 20 things in my life. Some things didn't make the list, like soccer is better than baseball no matter what any American might say. Or, that simple math might be the only mathematical studying that's actually useful, and other such gems. But, I think I've managed to find 20 things worth reading if not even considering. So here it goes...

1. Bankrupt yourself traveling, it's worth it
2. It's impossible to mess up your life permanently
3. Gunslingers and hippies both have something to say, so listen, you're your own version of an extremist in some way
4. Listen to your parents until you can prove they are wrong
5. Do what you love...always
6. Plans aren't necessary
7. Apple products are the closest mankind will get to perfection and Pixar is the closest we will get to a perfect story
8. Accidents are the best career starters I've ever encountered
9. It's much harder to hurt yourself than your paranoid parents tell you
10. Learning courtesy was one of the most helpful things in my life (even though my 8 year old self still hates the thought of sharing my things)
11. Daydreaming is an important part of our school system's education
12. Ask questions more than you ever thought necessary
13. Children of the technology age, don't forget to read...I would suggest even holding an actual book (with real page turning action!)
14. Once you've reached a certain age it's ok to talk to strangers
15. Face your fears, if you are not freed from them, at least you learn courage in the process
16. Only perfect love never ends
17. Find an adventure every day
18. Don't leave your morals and beliefs, but never let your morals and beliefs stop you from engaging with anyone
19. Time and sweat are the currency of competition, determination is the key to these riches
20. Know what drives you and never compromise it


Monday, July 5, 2010

So Long Partner

Today I went to see the conclusion of the Toy Story trilogy, the exciting end to 15 years of work. To say the least, I was a little nervous about it. I mean this is like The Godfather of animation, and we all know how well the third try went the first time around. So I'm thinking to myself, Pixar is testing fate, they are staring all of cinema history in the face, attempting the never before perfect trifecta. But then again, who can say no a couple of irresistible toys that bring childhood rushing back to a viewer of any age--that's right, no one. So with the thoughts of seeing Toy Story for the first time (way back in 1995 when the iPod was half a decade away and Pixar was the new kid on the block), I entered the movie theater hoping for the best.

In true Pixar fashion, the film has sparks of brilliant humor, enough for a 7 year old to share with his father. The story line takes the viewer from heights beyond infinity to depths so low they end in fire, and through it all there is steadfast friendship and loyalty on display. I don't want to give it all away to the unfortunate few who have yet to see it, but I can't help share a little. After watching two hours of a comedy, thriller, action, love flick it took me until the final scenes to see the perfection of the third installment. Pixar had it from the start, and they incorporated me in it since the beginning. The Toy Story ensemble is about growing up and the hardships of sticking together through the thick and thin of adolescence. It brings it perfectly to an understanding clear enough for the 6 year old Andy I was back in '95 and nuanced enough for the 20 year old critic I am today. Damned if they didn't pull it off. The perfect trilogy, the perfect ending to a monumental story. The impossible has a face and it's digitized plastic with a heart that beats truer and more loyal than Clemenza himself. As one of millions of Andy's out there, I'm saying thanks Toy Story for a long childhood of fun and memories; for teaching me that growing up is part of life; and for showing me that even though we move on we don't lose what we always had. So here it is, one final time. So long Buzz, so long Woody, so long partners.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Boring, Bored, or None of the Above

I am a person, believe it or not, who has, in instances, been accused of being boring. My staid exterior, my introverted personality, and my overall behind-the-scenes attitude lends itself to that I guess. I'm a person who appreciates thoughtfulness and tradition, and some might say I can be predictable. Often this assumption of a boring attitude translates itself into a passionless, emotionless one. The reality is I am deeply moved by the responsibilities of morality, ethics, being an example, and fulfilling my desires and dreams. I guess that's a boring answer, which doesn't much prove my point; so let me put it in a more simple example. I'm more passionate about literature than some people are about their very lives. And the best part--books aren't the thing I'm most passionate about. But since I've started on this path I might as well continue down the road and see if it explains anything.
Feeling so deeply is hard to keep up--no matter what it is that drives that passion. This summer I'm lucky enough to be immersed in the study of literature all the way from the early 20th C to present day, and still there are days where I find myself wanting to just sit and watch World Cup games all day. A day every now and then, sure I understand that, but when it persists I've got to ask--am I really getting bored with this? Don't get me wrong, I'm having a great time, tons of fun. But sometimes it feels like the fire is out.

With the sun shining outside and the temperature rising, I wonder if I lose myself, become complacent and forget to add fuel to the flame. And when that's gone, you can enjoy yourself all you want, but there's still a spot of cold darkness the sun can't reach. And when boredom sets in, the rest of your life burns out pretty swiftly leaving you to sit in a pile of your own ash blown, indifferently, by the wind's desire. And so it is, sometimes, where I am caught at the brink of the charcoal grey edges of life, before the charred smell of my dreams, like smelling salts, wake me out of my self-indulgent slothfulness. Just what I needed, before a blast of cold air blows out the last ember and throws me over the edge. Now the joy of collecting the grass, leaves and sticks to build from the ashes anew. Smoldering smoke, then a burst of yellow flame and the passion is reborn. I find again not just the fun, but the joy and excitement of building a life of passion. Heaving logs now, felling trees to find more fuel, insatiable a bonfire storms in front of me; towering, swirling oranges and reds, heat that stings my skin. I've created this, I've lived this; needing more, wanting more, growing larger, wilder.

Am I boring? Am I bored? I choose none of the above. I've a passion, rains and storms may dampen the flame, but the embers never die. I am always building always growing. I am creating a wildfire, and I am ready to let it run loose. It's been hidden, but I will open it to the world, I will let it engulf the surrounding forest. So pick up your tinder, your sticks and logs. Get ready and find the freedom and courage to throw your lives to the fire, to add your storied flames to the passion's unquenchable madness.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Dinner?

Well I've started to get into the swing of things out here in lovely New Haven. I'm even getting the hang of my commute to New York pretty well. It's strange to feel like this is the norm for my summer now, living on my own having two jobs that are on the road to what people do for careers. Although nothing is too normal about it, especially the schedules I need to keep. Talk about some busy days.

When I get to stay in New Haven it's really not all that bad. I get to make my own hours (so, yes, my day doesn't start until 10 or 11). I get to work from home a lot of the time. And it takes a 10 minute walk to get to all the libraries I work at. Really 'living the dream' as they say. But then there are those wondrous days where I get to work in the Big Apple, birthplace of the American Dream. Who knew you'd have to wake up at 5:30 to catch up with that dream. That's right, it's up at 5:30 to get showered and ready to catch a bus to the train station. Once that ordeal is over I get to sit for another hour and a half on the train into Grand Central Station (of course continuing my never-ending pile of reading). Then its a 15 block walk to the workplace. Finally I've made it in just before 10 and about four hours after I started getting ready for work. Then it starts to get better. I'm reading manuscripts, organizing files, giving reviews (and yes I did say better). Let's not forget the lunch break I get, a gracious hour, to buy my hugely overpriced sub. 6 o'clock rolls around and I get to do all of the planning in reverse now. 15 block walk, hour and a half train ride, bus back to campus, 5 block walk back home, then I'm done--but not really. Because after a long day of work and walking I'm hungry. And so the worst of it all comes at around 9 at night; time to make dinner. Who knew needing to sustain yourself would be such a hassle. So a half an hour later I can finally sit and eat. By 10 I've finished dinner and the dishes and can finally sit in my room and relax, 16 hours after I started. Take another two hours to do some writing and reading, and it's to bed because in less than 6 hours it all starts again. Who knew living the dream and the American Dream at the same time would be so time consuming.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Room Without a View

So it's been a week since I moved into my New Haven apartment and things are starting to pick up. The room I'm staying in has two windows in it. One looks out onto a roof and deserted parking lot while the other one has a great view of my neighbor's brick wall. Even without the view from home, I'm finding New Haven to have some beautiful scenery. Of course there is the Yale campus in all its glory. High, stone and marble built buildings towering around green quads. Old discolored towers with ivy crawling up its walls. These are mammoth buildings (which includes the second largest gym in the world!). It's an odd and wonderful thing to see a normal city street with shops and restaurants that have these old giants looming in the distance. But let's not forget the beauty of the city without the school. One of my favorite places is the New Haven green. With some history of its own, New Haven has three churches planted right next to each other on a large green smattered with trees, benches, and walkways. These churches have been around for literally hundreds of years and add to the scene providing a place where the manmade and natural beauty of the city fuse together into an area where any and all take advantage of its welcoming presence.

Doing my research I'm stuck in a reading room that is underground giving me a view of a few stone sculptures. After spending six hours straight in a place like this, I'm really enjoying the view from the street. I hope I never forget to keep looking around.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Moving Day

Well after much planning, and even more waiting, I'm finally sitting in an air conditioned New Haven apartment three blocks away from Yale's campus. From start to finish it took about two days to get where I am now. I woke up yesterday at 5am, about 7 hours earlier than I had been that whole week, and started packing up the car for departure. 6am rolls around and my parents and I start off on our 6 hour trip. We took two cars up, not knowing whether I would keep one here or not; so naturally I was left alone, which isn't so bad for a couple hours. By the fourth or fifth hour I'm holding full blown conversations with myself trying to keep myself awake. By noon (I'd be waking up around now usually) we get into New Haven to discover I wasn't the only one moving that day. It was the seniors last day on campus, which means 1300 students were trying to get out of the city just around the time I was trying to get in. After driving around for 20 minutes looking for a parking space, we finally found one. I shoved a fistful of dimes, one at a time, into the parking meter to get two hours and then we were in search of the apartment.

We visited my now temporary home and found it to be relatively clean (considering four male college students have spent the last year here) and in a great location. After brief deliberation it was settled that I would be moving in. The night went well from there, even into the next morning. Then the sun started to do its work, and the temperatures rose to 92 with not a cloud in sight. Living in the second floor of a house with no air conditioning when its 92 outside is one of the worst places I've ever been. I felt like I should've taken a shower ever 15 minutes; the rooms were at a place where it was uncomfortable to move and even breathe the air. In the midst of this I was given my first assignment, which could only be done in small increments considering my lack of focus. Instead I wandered around the city looking for grocery stores and a gym membership. It gets to be about 6pm and I can't take it any more, either I'm getting AC or I'm moving into the library. So I get into another (vacant) bedroom to find a window unit; I couldn't have been happier if I had found solid gold. Now to move it. First problem, undo six screws--check. Next, remove tape from all sides of window--check. Then, lift window unit and proceed to spill out half a gallon of water--check. (Side-step, clean up water spilled all over wood floor--check). Finally, carry unit into bedroom, install into window, screw into window sill, turn on, and find relief--check. So here I am, one full day down, and looking for tomorrow's new adventure.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Rome Wasn't Built In A Day...

But was it destroyed in one? It's been bound to happen since I started writing this blog--the ever looming failure and end of something great. Life is full of conflict and disappointment, and if I've learned anything this past week it's that you can't plan for a minute of it. In a mere week my life has done a 180, and everything's changed. Let's begin with last Friday when I begin writing my first paper of the many I have due at the end of the semester. I start writing a research paper for an English class I was taking, which usually isn't so bad. But, I didn't have a thesis, or really a topic for that matter, and the best advice I'm given to fix this is to start writing anyway. So now I'm writing a paper without knowing what it's about. Moving through the weekend where I somehow put together this English paper, now its right on to a religion final. This carries us through until Tuesday, when my heart's broken. Feeling alone, I trudge onward to Wednesday and Thursday where I still have three more papers to complete. In the midst of this, I'm realizing that most of the friends I have on campus are saying goodbye to me for the last time, quite possibly, ever.

So in one week, I have lost one relationship, written 40 pages of academic writing, and said goodbye to countless friendships. So maybe it took a week for Rome to crumble. What's left but to look onward and upward, as it's said. I have nothing left but to look to the promises in the summer and to leave the end of the semester to melt into a nostalgic memory, where I remember that I managed to write an incredible amount of work in a short time, where I became closer with the friends I still have, where I was given a chance to focus on my own goals. And with the beautiful weather (finally) here, I can look to the summer where I will have not one, but two internships. I will be spending it in New Haven and New York City. I will be working with one of the top literary agencies in the country and one of the top colleges in the country. Now if that's not a new, strong foundation I don't know what is. A successful city cannot survive if it does not stand against raging winds and terrible storms. My Rome may have been wrecked in a week, but let's see if I can't rebuild. And so begins a moment of reconstruction within my life; repairing the storm damage while enjoying the new and bright day.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

How Do You Say...

Two words is not enough. It's not enough to explain what I need to say, what I feel. Two words only take a second to say. Its not fair that it should only take a second to recompense years. Years of support, of help, of sacrifice. You held me when I cried and woke you in the middle of the night. You picked me up and cleaned out my skinned knee when I screamed. You kept a patient smile on your face while I missed catching hundreds of baseballs, followed by a "sorry," and your "it's ok." You've sat through hours of questions about great and small. You've guided me, taught me, and been an example to me. You've stayed, never leaving my side, in my irresponsibility and my insolence. In my frustration and my anger, you've comforted. And in the newest chapter of your tireless support, as I falter in my stare down with failure, you stand up and stare it down. Not only that, you teach me how to do the same, inspire me to reach for new ideas, new plans--I'm not staring down failure, I can't even see it any more. You come with words that uplift and embraces that fortify. How can I diminish this down to a simple two words? Maybe it will fit in three.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Thunderstorms

I am not one for the summer months; leave me with the cleanness of a snow-covered lawn and the mist of exhaled breath. I'm in love with the crystal blue of a winter sky (and this from a color-blind kid). But there is one bit of weather, one little piece of the science of creation that I love most--thunderstorms. It's getting to just about that season and it always whips me back to childhood. I'm racing my bike against the blowing wind, black clouds are billowing overhead and just the faintest of drops land, sparsely, on my neck and arms. I'm riding on the cusp of chaos; risking the downpour that is imminent.
I suppose I have it backwards though. Your supposed to love the warm sunny days where you can sit outside and enjoy the view. Don't get me wrong, sun shining through the green leaves of a maple tree is picturesque, but it's not something to really sink your teeth into. It's nature relaxing, creation dreaming; having a taste of the impossible calm. But I still love my unpredictable storms; perhaps its the reader in me (or maybe even the writer) searching for conflict, for the real battle of life.

The looming approach of darkness is exhilarating. I love sitting outside feeling the pressure drop, watching the clouds move, nature is in motion. I am watching the world actively move. I am seeing the expanse of the sky summon its strength, show its own emotion. The pain and raw conflict and chaos of what the world is stands before my eyes. Then the drops begin to fall faster and faster from the battle-worn and bruised skies. It becomes a veil of transparent grey that covers everything. Then the heavens open for just a flash of time and I see the blazing glory of lightning. Followed abruptly by a crash and roll, then a low, resonant grumble. I can feel the deep vibration shake and pound my chest. And when I go to sleep that night--listening to the drops fall from the darkness above; seeing, in my dreary sight, shadows in a brilliant flash; hearing the sky speak to me in his earth-shaking tones--I know I am not alone in my anguish, my chaos, my passion.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Rockstar

Well this past week was spring break and instead of doing the normal go home and sleep for 7 days, I decided to put a little spin on it and follow up on some intern leads. So Monday was Washington DC. I went down to NPR (National Public Radio) and got a tour of the whole place; though a new addition has been added it is still relatively small for such a large organization with so many employees. I look forward to seeing their new building in a few years. It's a fantastic place with quite friendly people who are very willing to offer any information or help they can give you. Overall, I was really impressed with the experience. Being able to hang out in the nation's capital wasn't all that bad either. From there, Tuesday brought on New York City. The Big Apple, the home of the American Dream. I actually spent most of the day walking the streets, but in between these marathons, I had a some pretty important chats with a literary agency. If all things go well, I'll "hear back from them by the end of the month"--worst part of applying. Finally, I ended up in Baltimore on Wednesday just to take a little break from it all and spend the afternoon with my dad--great day.

After seeing three cities in such short succession, it's amazing to see how individual a "vibe" you can get from a certain city. DC give me a feeling of business, but it still clings to its older roots. As far as major cities go, it also has more of a southern aristocratic tinge than most. It seems to be presenting America, as a neatly wrapped (though confusingly planned) city that welcomes the average street walker. New York is more in your face. It's an explosion of culture, music, art, business, fashion, food--all at once. It's fast paced and fun. And Baltimore, well that will always feel a little like home to me; the one and only Charm City. The Inner Harbor is the place to be on a spring-warmed day with a little ocean breeze in the air. You have fun just wandering on the brick walkways without really even knowing why.

Aside from my personal musings of city "auras," the week was pretty great. Traveling to major cities, investigating new job opportunities, and have a good time along the way. All I need now is to be wildly successful (hopefully by the end of this month*) and I'll be a true rockstar.


Thursday, March 4, 2010

Eureka

It's an interesting word, eureka. The story I've always associated with the word is the ancient scientist who was asked by the king to find out if the goldsmiths who had made his crown did so with pure gold or if it was mixed with another metal. The scientist wracks his brain for days trying to solve the problem for the king, until one day he solves the problem sitting in his bath tub. As the story goes, the man runs through the streets nude yelling "Eureka!" He used water displacement to prove what the crown was made of.

It's a fun story to hear, and one that tells of the moments that unexpectedness often shares with brilliance. It tells of the ability for man to overcome and problem solve. Although, it is also a story of science. It is interesting that eureka has become a word of problem solving, science, and math. It's really to express the joy of a moment of inspiration, but I think the story gets it right. There's no way the local poet is running next to the scientist yelling "Eureka!" right there with him.

I'm feeling inspired, I don't know why or really how it all came about, but it's a joyful and serious feeling; I don't want to waste it. So when I feel inspired I try to write, but let me forewarn you (it might already be to late), there is nothing great ahead. I don't think inspiration comes to writers like it does to the scientist. It could be that writers are not trying to solve a problem, but the problem. As exciting as water displacement is, it's not so exceptionally moving. It is a problem worthy of a moment of inspiration, just a moment. But writers, we deal with the problem of life, of human nature. This problem is worth well more than a moment. So in this, my moment of inspiration, I turn over another piece to the puzzle so it's facing right side up. It might just be a piece of the sky, not the most exciting piece, but still vital to finishing the picture. The problem is I'm putting together the puzzle without the box; I can't see what its supposed to make. I'm doing this blind and I only have a part of the border and a couple of sky pieces put together. I have no idea what I'm making yet; I hope one day I do. What I most hope is that all the pieces came with the box so I can fit in the last piece of my solution to the problem like those before me have. Those great 1000 puzzle piece works of Steinbeck or Melville. One more hope and then I'm done. I hope I get enough little moments of eureka to be worthy of answering the great question set before me--because, well, you never see a reproduction of a Van Gogh in a 24 piece puzzle.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Following the Leader...

the leader, the leader. We're following the leader wherever he may go. Problem is I seem to have found myself to be the leader.

A few months ago, I was speaking with a friend of mine and was voicing my need for a spiritual community among people my own age. After talking over what should be done, we came to the conclusion that the group would need to be created instead of found. And so, the long process of creating a group went into effect. After much planning we finally decided that it was time to see if there was anybody else who felt the same way (maybe we should've checked that sooner). Anyway, there was a lunch we promoted to anyone out of high school and under 30 to come and talk about the spiritual needs they were feeling. The problem now was, what if no one shows. Just me and the pastor sitting in a room surrounded by boxes of pizza. All this planning and praying, and no one else felt inspired to be a part of it. In reality, the expectation was that maybe five or six would show up and we could talk and get to know each other. It's nearing the fateful hour when we will find out how many people will actually bother to show up, I walk into the room and lo and behold 20 people are sitting in the room. I'm thinking to myself, I just walked in on a meeting, but oddly they were all quite young looking. I was in the right place, and I was sitting among a group of my peers--college students, young couples, young families, and people beginning careers.

Great surprise, but I didn't really plan anything for this. Now I'm stumbling my way through trying to understand what people want to get out of a group like this. Even more amazing than people showing up, they wanted to talk about their lives and share their need for support and help in their spirituality. Shock and awe. So now, I'm at the front of 20 people all from different walks of life, and I'm trying to figure out a way to make them all grow spiritually. Then it occurred to me, I'm not really doing anything. God himself has controlled the entire process, I'm simply carrying out God's plan. I am in just the same position as the people I was in front of; we are going to travel together in pursuit, searching for what God has laid before us. So the problem is not that I have found myself in the leadership position, but that I thought I was ever there to begin with. So carry on, my leader, for we will follow you wherever you may go.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Play the Sunset

I recently had to write a paper explaining why I would want to teach and what kind of teacher I want to be...so I thought I would share a few excerpts.

...Teachers must cultivate not simply students, not young minds alone, but develop children into independent adults. This is the one line phrase of the teacher I most love and the teacher I most want to be. This is also where it gets complicated. How am I supposed to characterize my teaching career so that I might not only give knowledge, but also give tools and a vision for life? Based upon general beliefs of what a teacher needs to be, I must and plan to embody seeming contradictions in my teaching. I want to be a teacher that is like the father who has just let go of his child's bike seat, but is still running next to it guiding the path and giving confidence to the new rider. I need to embody independence and support at the same moment. I also must care about the well being of my students as much as the father cares about the well being of his child. I can mange students getting skinned knees and bruised elbows, but i will not allow for any broken bones or stitches. Not having taught to any great extent, I think I would try to do this by giving assignments that were not always terribly difficult, but a little uncomfortable. I want to drive my students to expand their spheres of learning, take control of their lives, and find confidence in their work. What I most of all do not want are students who are content to stay in class with only what they know and only what they are comfortable with.

...And so as I contemplate what I would like to achieve in my career the question becomes more difficult with more thought. Initially I might think that I want all my students to succeed and have all of my students respect the teacher I am. But this outcome, these achievements do not parallel the drive and reason I have for wanting to teach. No, I believe a teacher cannot ask for respect; he must act and let his actions prove whether he is worthy of it. I do hope that I will prove myself, but I will not ask for a student's appreciation. As for my students going on to succeed, of course I imagine that i will be the teacher of the next great American author or the next genius critic or theorist, but this is not an achievement I will strive for as much as a dream I will hold dear. Instead I hope that I will create students who never forget the humanity of life. I hope to inspire students to never lose the emotion that lies within the logic of writing and reading, of theorizing and analyzing. I want to teach so that I can push and guide not simply students, but a new generation of thinkers, lovers, and doers to achieve their own impassioned dreams.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Some Privacy Please

"Are you at all acquainted with squalor?"

The great author JD Salinger died yesterday at 91 of natural causes. He published very few works in his lifetime and is mostly known for his book Catcher in the Rye, which has sold over 60 million copies since its publication. The interesting thing about Salinger is that he stopped publishing his work around 45 years ago. He's been sitting in his home in a small Connecticut town for half of his life. The townspeople had agreed to keep Salinger and his secret safe. If any traveler should stumble into town asking for the great writer's address they would inevitably be pointed in the wrong direction several times until total confusion set in. It's really what you would come to expect from such a writer. His life and the surrounding details had become one of his eccentric plot lines. But he left a plot twist for all his followers at the end. I wonder if he planned it at all. With the exceeding rate and exponential growth of communication and vying for the spotlight, there was one public figure who was able to stay in the mind of America without saying a word. Beyond this, with his death, could it be that he will rejuvenate the life-blood that once flowed with teenage angst and quenched the thirst of generations. Yes, it is rumored that Salinger could have 15 manuscripts under lock and key. The big question is will they be published? Time will only tell. So, Salinger, I pay my respects to a man who lived his life doing what he loved for no one but himself. You loved writing and you didn't compromise your vision. You gave up a lifetime of fame and fortune, of great celebrity. A man who stayed true to his visions. But I am an anxious reader, I do still hope that you found it in your heart to allow us to see the growth of your genius. Though you will never receive the laud and honor.

"I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody."



Sunday, January 24, 2010

Outer Dark

And as he lay there a far crack of lightning went bluely down the sky and bequeathed him in an embryonic bird's first fissured vision of the world and transpiring instant and outrageous from dark to dark a final view of the grotto and the shapeless white plasm struggling upon the rich and incunabular moss like a lank swamp hare.

Here's an excerpt from the Cormac McCarthy novel Outer Dark. It is a passage that describes the experience of the brief flash of light from a streak of lightning. Now I'm doing this off the top of my head, but I would probably write something like, "lightning flashed across the sky." It's the same second being described. And sure you might be able to see my phrase, but you can feel every word of McCarthy's. It's just amazing to me that he can focus so distinctly on such a miniscule amount of time. His description is haunting and it haunts me as an aspiring writer. How can you even have the thought of this vision, much less the words for it. He uses metaphor and other experience to accentuate and exact the perfect feeling and experience he means to derive from this description. And no this is not a brief shining moment within a novel of more plebeian description.

He stood in the center of the square where the tracks of commerce lay fossilized in the dried mud all about him, turning, an amphitheatrical figure in that moonwrought waste manacled to a shadow that struggled grossly in the dust.

Or, "he stood, in the moonlit night, looking at the rutted, mud road." You see the second, but feel the character's emotions of struggle and loneliness in McCarthy's version. This is the thing that I think amazes me most about his writing. I am often shocked and impressed with description and characters that I can imagine, see, and believe. But McCarthy goes beyond the call of visualizing and goes straight for the soul of the reader. He creates lines of prose that connect his imaginations directly to the heart of the reader. These characters are not simply believable, they do not simply feel, but they reach out to us and make us empathize, make us feel the loneliness of staring at a deserted square with only our own shadow to wrestle with. Unbelievable. McCarthy is not simply a master of emotion and reader empathy through long, descriptive scenes. It takes the greatest writer to know when it is best not to describe with longevity.

No. No preacher. What is there to preach? It's all plain enough. Word and flesh, I don't hold much with preaching.

Here, a blind man is speaking of religion and life with the protagonist. In other words, he's saying, "I'm not a preacher, I don't want to preach to you about life, I simply mean to remind you about living. It all comes down to the word and flesh. To people and what they say, to God and his children, to the leader and followers, to relationships and how we live them. But, rest assured, it is not preaching that gives this to you, it is living it, plain and simple." McCarthy masterfully fits in not only a paragraph's worth of meaning, but a book's worth, into a mere sentence. He doesn't constrict the reader into reading on the page everything exactly, because that's not the way of the word and flesh. That's not the way of life. He means to draw feeling, emotion, empathy from the reader, not the preach to him. He mean to show the reader's blindness to truly living. So reader, it's all plain enough, experience living.

Monday, January 18, 2010

The Gift of Life

I've been contemplating this phrase, the gift of life, for a little while now. And no, sorry, I'm not talking about birth, well not exactly. I've been wondering what makes the "new birth" of Christianity so unappealing when its presented to me as a gift. I mean it sounds pretty good--it's free and I like free stuff, you get to go to heaven and I'm pretty sure I will like that too. But for some reason it just doesn't sound like something I'm really into--and I'd like to think I trust in God.

About a month ago everybody was gearing up for Christmas and something was pushed in front of me that made my feelings quite clear. It was a present that apparently led the person receiving it to something eternal. I mostly got boredom and smugness out of it, but I'm not sure if that's what they were going for. And with the gift in my hands I suddenly realized what's so off-putting. The present is a lie. I'm sure what it says inside isn't really a lie, but to me (not actually having read it) it certainly felt like one. You see, Christianity is about believing in a God that is bigger than humanity, since, you know, he created it and all. I have a hard time believing you can fit a God like that into a card or a booklet. He managed to begin to explain himself in a few hundred pages, but hey he's God. Even more than the vastness of God is the exact difference between what he claims and what the gift presents. The gift gives a 5 step plan or an introduction to a better life. I'm not sure if God really ever leads with that. As far as I can tell, and Christ is constantly showing this, he let's people fall. Now its the kind of fall that 4 year olds make to skin their knees, not the fall that 7 year olds make to break their arms. It's gonna hurt and its gonna sting, and worst of all its gonna be there for a while. But, like a good father and friend, Christ comes running to pick us up and cradle us. This is the big difference for me.

God is not a gift, not a present, he is something to have a relationship with. And we all know relationships do not fit in cards. They are daily struggles, fights, laughs, and shared experience. This is the truth that God presents. This is the beginning of himself that he fits in those few hundred pages--a relationship. To me, the "Christian gift bag" is filed in with the cards I get from distant friends and family whom I've never met, but I'm assured at one point they were close with a family member two generations ago. It's nice and all, but its not really like the gift I get from a best friend. Before we start handing out gifts left and right to people let's actually get to know each other. It becomes infinitely more meaningful. Now my Christian friends may be doubting this last statement a little and be thinking "but God gives gifts to all his children whether they know him or not." And certainly I must agree, but I have one more brief analogy for you. Think of the new mother and father of a child on his first Christmas. Not much of a two way relationship brewing there, but I've never heard of parents who ignored their child whether or not he was aware of what love was contained inside the wrapping paper.

To be honest I think that's where most of us spend a lot of our time. Seeing a bright shiny new present without concern as to whom it came from (though its particularly specific to my needs and personality). Rarely we might get to the stage those 4 year olds with skinned knees get to. We tear into our presents rushing to get to the next unopened thing, then take a quick run around the room, give a brief hug to whoever gave us the present, say "I love you" then move on. Of course the next day we are crying because no new presents came. But, when we are open to God's grace we sometimes briefly see what he has truly given us amidst all the gifts. And here is the best part, he's been holding up our relationship the whole time, and the moments where I see that loving connection are the most valued of my life. I just wish I could remember to look at who gave me the gifts more than I look at the newest present in my life--because that is a life worth living, one very appealing, one full of relationships rather than full of gifts.

Friday, January 15, 2010

When It Rains, It Pours

Well it's been quite awhile since I've posted anything. Quite a bit has happened in the last month; I'm afraid this will be more of a recap, but I'll try to keep it interesting. Most of December and January I spend on break from school, which should be pretty great, actually it should be really great. Five weeks of doing nothing but sleeping, hanging out with friends, and well pretty much doing whatever I feel like. But break didn't really work out the way I had planned it to. I guess it really started the few weeks before break even began.

My computer was intermittently working near the end of the semester, and the week before finals were due it completely shut down on me. I would find out later that the motherboard had crashed (actually this was the second time in three years, but HP decided to take away the recall that was out a mere three months before the problem occurred). So I was without a computer for a little longer than a month. As you can imagine, this didn't go over well when looking at my bank account. But, I was hopeful, I have a great winter job selling Christmas trees which brings in a good amount and I could get a new computer. But the 20 inches of snow that came the weekend I was going to start work put me out of a job. So now I'm without job and down a computer when what should happen but in the same week my family discovers it has problems with not one, or even two, but all three of the cars we have. Yeah, that one hurt. But, I thought at least I can get away from some of the worry when I go on my swim training trip in Florida; warm, sunny beaches, sparkling outdoor pool (Olympic length), volleyball tournaments. We land in Florida a few days after the New Year in an invigorating (or rather demoralizing) 44 degrees. We were practicing in an outdoor pool in the 40's. Then I come back to PA and need to go to school a week before classes to continue training.

So there it is. The break, the "vacation" I get from all the stress of school; not quite what I was hoping for. But for all the bad, I still enjoyed the break. My computer broke, but due to a student discount I was able to get a much better and more reliable one. I lost out on a great job opportunity, but I was able to spend another week with my family instead of living an hour away. Christmas was actually fantastic, couldn't have asked for it to be better. Florida was cold, really cold, but its way better than spending all of training in lonely Carlisle. And yes, I'm back at school early with no one on campus except the team, but the team will grow closer because of it. Not a bad way to start of the new year.