Goodbye, tree.
Showing posts with label the Woo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Woo. Show all posts
Monday, November 14, 2011
Measurement
We had some startling and problematic snow up here right before Halloween. Huge power outages, chaos everywhere, the whole nine yards...the heavy snow on the still be-leaved trees wreaked absolute havoc and pulled branches down all over the place. The power was out at my house when I came home from the hockey, and stayed off for much of the next day. I went over to my parents' house, which is apparently some kind of impenetrable fortress and/or has Doc Ock's fusion reactor in the basement. When I pulled up, I saw this:
That is the damaged remains of the dogwood tree my parents planted when we first moved to Worcester when I was just six months old. I had to sit in my car for a while just to compose myself, and I was struck by how powerful my response to this scene was. I thought of all the times Mom and Dad had sent us out to shake the tree in the fall and how many neighborhood bikes had been dumped under it and how many swerve moves I'd run around it on my way to wherever...it's funny how things you don't always think would be so important really are.
Goodbye, tree.
Goodbye, tree.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday Round Up!: Why No One Except Grandma Can Have Nice Things
I missed last Friday's roundup because I was busy contemplating whether or not I should just drink myself into oblivion to cope with the debt ceiling fallout. Luckily, I've decided against it, so here's this week's hit parade!
What the HELL, iTunes.
- Steampunk Fashion on Display at HCC (ABC13, Texas) First on the list is my grandmother's upcoming exhibit in Houston, TX, because Grandma is awesome and so is this exhibit. She is a fashion historian and recently gifted her historical collection (which, by the way, is about 5,000 pieces strong) to her American Costume Society compatriot Kay King at Houston Community College. Some of the pieces were used to put together a fabulous steampunk exhibit, and my Dad, Grandma and I will be headed down to Texas at the end of September for Elizabeth Brown Day and the exhibit's opening! Here's the news clip from the local ABC affiliate:
- What's Happening With the London Riots? (Mother Jones) Mother Jones routinely posts these rolling update articles about major events, and I find them immensely helpful. As far as the riots, I encourage everyone not to dismiss the rioters outright. Of course there are some people who just want to watch the world burn, but this is not that simple. I point you to this quote from a young man who NBC was asking if rioting really achieved anything: "Yes. You wouldn’t be talking to me now if we didn’t riot, would you? Two months ago we marched to Scotland Yard, more than 2,000 of us, all blacks, and it was peaceful and calm and you know what? Not a word in the press. Last night a bit of rioting and looting and look around you." These are people fighting for a voice.
- States Can Now Opt-Out of No Child Left Behind Provisions (Amy Bingham, ABC) No Child Left Behind is the single most damaging thing to happen to American education in its history, full stop. The decision to let states opt-out of its ridiculous and useless provisions is a huge step in the right direction, and I'm proud of both Secretary Duncan and the Obama Administration for taking it. I hope that it is fully dismantled in the next few years. (For some smackdown on NCLB's shitty test-based standards, you can read this report from the National Academies.)
- How the US Media Marginalizes Dissent (Ted Rall, Al-Jazeera) I recently submitted a paper for publication - cross those fingers, everyone! - about the way media frame debates compared to public opinion polling. I found that overwhelmingly, the media preferred to polarize complex issues, establishing two fairly extreme poles as the dominant views and completely dropping the grey area out of the debate. I suspect few people will be surprised to hear that most of public opinion is, in fact, in the grey area. This article takes a similar approach, examining the language used to marginalize voices that don't fit the media's established framework, particularly with references to people as being "serious" or not. [NB: I have been so impressed by Al-Jazeera as a whole lately. I'm not sure if their quality has gone up or I'm just bumping into their articles more frequently, but I think they're putting out excellent, excellent work.]
- Canada Has Lessons, No Answers, for US Debt Woes (Randall Palmer and John McCrank, Reuters CA) Americans often think that we are or must be wholly unique. This was particularly visible in the healthcare debate, where other nations' systems were critiqued and held up as examples of why "universal healthcare, full stop" would not work, but not examined as systems that we could either pillage for parts or learn from to build a better system. Instead, the discourse went something like "we must create a system wholly new or nothing." Our politics have suffered from this mindset, because it disconnects us from historical context that provides balance and depth for our political system as a whole. This article talks about Canada's own happy fun time with debt problems and explains a bit about how they recovered, though it rightly admits that exactly replicating Canada's approach would not be a perfect fit.
- Megyn Kelly Destroys Guy Who Called Her Maternity Leave a Racket (Maureen O'Connor, Gawker) I can't usually stand Megyn Kelly, but this clip is absolutely glorious. She is dead on, the guy looks openly embarassed - as he should - and he has zero response. I hope Kelly remembers this interaction the next time she's railing about entitlements (as Jon Stewart pointed out the other night).
- Us. And Them. (Chris Carroll, National Geographic) An interesting article on the progress of humanoid and "helper" robots, and the ethical challenges posed by their development. I know I'm That Girl Who Always Talks About Robots, but this is a serious thing - military funding is pushing a lot of robotics development while shelving ethical considerations, and with the push for AI, there's a very real danger that technology may progress beyond where we CAN place ethical frameworks on robots. This needs to be talked about.
- Falcon HTV-2 is Lost During Bid to Become Fastest Ever Plane (Ian Sample, The Guardian) Speaking of DARPA funded projects, the Falcon HTV-2, a rocket launched unmanned aircraft capable of travelling at Mach 20 and crossing the continental United States in 12 minutes, was lost during a test flight. This makes me sad even though I know it's a weapon of war, because I've been clinging to wild aviation projects like this following the death of the shuttle program.
- Rare Sand Cat Kitten Gives Hope for Conservation (Zooborns) WARNING: WEAPONIZED CUTENESS AT LINK. A sand cat kitten was recently born at Zoological Center Tel Aviv - Ramat Gan, and is currently wiping the floor with all other comers in the Adorable Baby Animal Olympics (Cat Division). This is a big, exciting deal, as sand cats are endangered and have great difficulty breeding in captivity.
- Every Picture Tells a Story (Janice Harvey, Worcester Magazine) A couple weeks ago, Janice Harvey wrote a column about how totes grody laydees with tattoos are. Not surprisingly, people did not like this, and proceeded to call her an asshole loudly, publicly and aggressively. She published an apology the other day, and while I appreciate the guts it takes to apologize publicly, I think this apology is kind of a template for how NOT to do it. It basically amounts to "you just didn't get it" (if you click through to the original, you'll see why her trying to play it off as humor is either incredibly disingenuous or demonstrative of a fundamental lack of understanding about how humor works) followed by "you guys were mean just like I said you were, you trashy bitches." I give her points for trying to change her attitude, but she has a long way to go in understanding that there is no single type of woman (or man) who gets a tattoo. (That it was shitty to use a public forum to trash a specific demographic still seems to elude her, so...whatever.) Janice, maybe this will help: I've owned my own businesses, I'm a Ph.D candidate in a very conservative field, I'm married, I wear makeup and heels, and I have tattoos. Keep your shit in your own basket.
- Teaching With Twitter (Kohenari) This is a very cool project wherein a professor at the University of Nebraska is teaching his political theory course with Twitter, and invites outside folks to join in. I'll be doing this course and I hope you will too!
What the HELL, iTunes.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Moving Train, I Get a Dollar!
My Dad really likes trains, so over the years it has become our family business to spot trains at every opportunity. In fact, we have a reward system whereby the moving train spotter gets a dollar. The program is mostly obsolete at this point, and I'm pretty sure that it started out as a quarter, but either way, it's how we get down. I was waiting for the commuter rail at Union Station in Worcester last Thursday when I saw two CSX engines and a Union Pacific boxcar trundling up the way. I got out my Blackberry and took a video to send to Dad.
The engines pulled up on the second track from the platform, and some poor soul waded through the snow to tinker with a connection at the back of the boxcar, and then the mini-train backed up a little, went forward, then backed up all the way back whence it came.
It was a nice little dad/kid bonding experience. I went on to classes and to ride several more trains - commuter rail, red line, green line - without incident. A few days later, I got an envelope in the mail from Dad. Christmas thank you notes had already been exchanged, so I figured it was an article he'd found or something. I opened the envelope and found this:
I assume this came from his favorite store in Florida, Nifty NicNacs, which specializes in retro doodads. Here's what was inside:
My dad is adorable. I was on the phone with Mom and I asked if she knew he'd done this, and she goes "uh, YEAH, I reminded him to do it!" You almost can't look at the cuteness for fear of going blind. It's like looking at the sun.
The engines pulled up on the second track from the platform, and some poor soul waded through the snow to tinker with a connection at the back of the boxcar, and then the mini-train backed up a little, went forward, then backed up all the way back whence it came.
It was a nice little dad/kid bonding experience. I went on to classes and to ride several more trains - commuter rail, red line, green line - without incident. A few days later, I got an envelope in the mail from Dad. Christmas thank you notes had already been exchanged, so I figured it was an article he'd found or something. I opened the envelope and found this:
Thursday, November 4, 2010
TRUE LIFE: My Congressman Remembers Me at the Low Point of My Fashion Life
Remember puffer jackets you guys? They were terrible for EVERYONE. However, like much of the fashion of the 90s, no one wanted to let this get in the way of a good time, so I wanted one super, super bad. For some reason, my mother decided to abet this obviously insane plan by getting me a reversible puffer jacket that was yellow on one side and yellow, red and green on the other. Again, because the 90s were really a huge problem, I wore this monstrosity yellow-side out, rendering myself visible from space. This is one of those times where I cut Rich a break for things like "parachute pants" because people just can't be trusted to dress themselves sometimes.
I wore this hideous jacket all over the place, but perhaps most notably to the St. Patrick's Day Parade in Worcester circa 1998. I was marching with the Jim McGovern contingent. This being a parade, there were lots of photos and such, and this did not bother me because I was wearing my AWESOME JACKET.
Fast forward three years.
I work a couple more campaigns for Jim and then I decide to go to American University (yay, go Eagles!) which is also his alma mater, and of course I'm all "I will intern for you!" I got myself some fancy Grown Up Style suits - which incidentally were also fairly horrid in retrospect since they were that long-jacketed 90s style - and I got on Metro and walked into the House Office Building. I immediately got lost because a.) that is what I do and b.) those buildings, much like the streets in DC, are clearly designed by a crazy person who hates interns, but I eventually found my way to Jim's office. He was wandering through and was all excited to see me, and then goes "oh, you have to check this out!" He takes me over to this big picture on the wall, and lo and behold, there is a picture of the front line of the Worcester goddamn St. Patrick's Day Parade with me and my giant yellow puffer jacket right up front, holding a Jim McGovern for Congress sign and looking cold. Yes, I know you are all jealous of me now that you know I am in fact so superfamous that my picture is hanging in a HOUSE OFFICE BUILDING.
On Election Night I went to Jim's victory party at Coral Seafood on Shrewsbury Street in Worcester (which is awesome AND has giant jellyfish lights which I know will appeal to some people), and as I was leaving I saw him and was like "I am so proud you're my Congressman, and I'm never sitting out another campaign." He gave me a hug and said "you've always been there for me, and I appreciate that. I see you every day in my office."
Maybe if I send him a picture of myself holding a sign, he can tape it over the puffer jacket shot.
I wore this hideous jacket all over the place, but perhaps most notably to the St. Patrick's Day Parade in Worcester circa 1998. I was marching with the Jim McGovern contingent. This being a parade, there were lots of photos and such, and this did not bother me because I was wearing my AWESOME JACKET.
Fast forward three years.
I work a couple more campaigns for Jim and then I decide to go to American University (yay, go Eagles!) which is also his alma mater, and of course I'm all "I will intern for you!" I got myself some fancy Grown Up Style suits - which incidentally were also fairly horrid in retrospect since they were that long-jacketed 90s style - and I got on Metro and walked into the House Office Building. I immediately got lost because a.) that is what I do and b.) those buildings, much like the streets in DC, are clearly designed by a crazy person who hates interns, but I eventually found my way to Jim's office. He was wandering through and was all excited to see me, and then goes "oh, you have to check this out!" He takes me over to this big picture on the wall, and lo and behold, there is a picture of the front line of the Worcester goddamn St. Patrick's Day Parade with me and my giant yellow puffer jacket right up front, holding a Jim McGovern for Congress sign and looking cold. Yes, I know you are all jealous of me now that you know I am in fact so superfamous that my picture is hanging in a HOUSE OFFICE BUILDING.
On Election Night I went to Jim's victory party at Coral Seafood on Shrewsbury Street in Worcester (which is awesome AND has giant jellyfish lights which I know will appeal to some people), and as I was leaving I saw him and was like "I am so proud you're my Congressman, and I'm never sitting out another campaign." He gave me a hug and said "you've always been there for me, and I appreciate that. I see you every day in my office."
Maybe if I send him a picture of myself holding a sign, he can tape it over the puffer jacket shot.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Real Taste Buds and a Genuine Knowledge of True Value
For those without reading glasses handy, this sign says:
It's really quite the masterpiece. The Gold Star is in fact very good, but the sign is clearly the best thing about it at this moment in time.
Pop Quiz! What is the best thing about it?
1. That there is no indication of where this poll came from? (I assume the Worcester Magazine Best of Worcester poll...but who knows??)
2. The quotation marks around "best"?
3. "People with real taste buds" (as presumably opposed to fake taste buds)?
4. The swagger of it all
5. The problematic punctuation involved in "Congratulations! Spiro & Staff" that makes it seem like Spiro (the owner) and his staff are congratulating the People With Real Taste Buds and A Genuine Knowledge of True Value for voting correctly?
6. The inclusion of "John Jolin Head Voter," further developing the incredible douchebaggery of the Jolin Image (the Jolins run a local paving company and drive around in a squad of Hummers that say "Paved For" on the back of them. Oh, and they're responsible for this crime against landscaping)?
Why pick one, I say!
GOLD STAR RESTAURANT
VOTED "BEST" #1
BREAKFAST & LUNCH IN CENTRAL MASSACHUSETTS
BY PEOPLE WITH REAL TASTE BUDS AND A
GENUINE KNOWLEDGE OF TRUE VALUE
Congratulations!
Spiro & Staff John Jolin Head Voter
Pop Quiz! What is the best thing about it?
1. That there is no indication of where this poll came from? (I assume the Worcester Magazine Best of Worcester poll...but who knows??)
2. The quotation marks around "best"?
3. "People with real taste buds" (as presumably opposed to fake taste buds)?
4. The swagger of it all
5. The problematic punctuation involved in "Congratulations! Spiro & Staff" that makes it seem like Spiro (the owner) and his staff are congratulating the People With Real Taste Buds and A Genuine Knowledge of True Value for voting correctly?
6. The inclusion of "John Jolin Head Voter," further developing the incredible douchebaggery of the Jolin Image (the Jolins run a local paving company and drive around in a squad of Hummers that say "Paved For" on the back of them. Oh, and they're responsible for this crime against landscaping)?
Why pick one, I say!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
My Mother is My Biggest Fan
The Sharks are in the playoffs, and Suzanne at the front office got in touch to ask if I could sing the National Anthem for Game 1 of Round 1 against the Lowell Devils. I did, and it went really well, but unfortunately it was kind of the best part of the game since the Sharks rolled over and just failed all over the place. But they rebounded, won the series, hooray! On to Manchester. Game 2 comes around, I sing again...they lose again. At this point the problem makes it to one of the Sharks message boards:
I texted her back saying that every time the mom of the friend family came down, the Sharks scored, so I just needed to get her down to our seats one more time and we'd be good. She texted me back a minute later:
Thanks, Mom.
Next time any of you readers out there wonder how I've accomplished the things I have in my life, here's your answer: years of support from my family.
Although Josie sings better then most people that do the anthem I don't think she should sing any more before the playoff games we are now 0-2 when she does. Just a thought lolOh dear. The man has a point. I figure I'll just wait until next season to sing, fine. Last night we were up in Manchester, and I texted my mom to tell her that I'd met up with some family friends who live in New Hampshire and attended the game. She responded:
Hope the Sharks do better tonight...fingers and toes crossed! Give the [Friends] my best xxx
I texted her back saying that every time the mom of the friend family came down, the Sharks scored, so I just needed to get her down to our seats one more time and we'd be good. She texted me back a minute later:
Just don't sing the national anthem!!
Thanks, Mom.
Next time any of you readers out there wonder how I've accomplished the things I have in my life, here's your answer: years of support from my family.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Housekeeping Notes: Hockey Season
Hey all,
I'm adding three links to the already ridiculous blogroll over there on the right. Hockey's over - go Pens - but this has been a phenomenal season for a variety of reasons. Let's just do a little recap.
1. Got to hit up the Sharks/Bruins game when San Jose came out to Boston this season. You don't get to see the Sharks and B's play very often since they're so far apart, and this game was even more exciting because at the time, the two opponents were number one in their respective conferences. We put up with a lot of trash talk from bandwagon fans, but were vindicated in a.) the fact that the Sharks beat the Bruins, and b.) the spectacle of a cop basically hurling one of said idiot fans into a wall for being obnoxious and bellowing "get outta here, go HOME" at him.
2. We also made it up to Montreal this year to see the Sharks play the Habs. There is nothing - NOTHING - like watching a game in the Bell Center, and being there in the Habs' 100th season was truly special. We had such an amazing time in Montreal...thumbs up for Hurley's, Sir Winston Churchill's, McLean's Pub, The Second Cup, Timmy Ho's, La Cage Aux Sports, La Maison VIP, McDonald's when McDonald's is giving out mini Carey Prices, crazy ass taxi drivers of Montreal and above all, Spa Eastman. I go to Spa Eastman whenever we go up north and they do such amazing work. Not only are their aestheticians phenomenal, but their location is on the sixteenth floor looking out over McGill University and is so unbelievably relaxing. Moreover, I was up there with Rich and a kickass woman I'm gonna talk to you about in a sec.
3. The AHL All Star Classic was in Worcester this year.
After a ton of work and coordination, the weekend finally rolled around about thirty seconds after I'd returned from the Inaguration in DC. We made a lot of new friends, particularly as we were picking the players, executives and mascots up at the area airports.
Making important business contacts
It was a spectacular event brilliantly executed. The hockey season brings its stresses, but at the end of the day, we all know that the folks in the front office of the Worcester Sharks are super goddamn talented. It was a real treat to see that become apparent to the entire AHL. They had a great party after the Skills Competition at beautiful Mechanics Hall, which featured U2 cover band Joshua Tree and the NHL Skills Comp on the giant screen.
Now, I don't mean to malign any of the people we picked up at the airport - they were all super friendly and fun to meet - but Rich and I got an even more exciting opportunity. We went to pick up the Stanley Cup and its escort, Mike Bolt, from Logan Airport.
Saw Zdeno Chara and Marc Savard in bag claim along with San Jose Sharks GM Doug Wilson in bag claim; the Cup was coming back from the NHL All Star Classic in Montreal, so all these folks were coming from the same place.
Here we are with the Stanley Cup in the back of the truck. Mike was a really interesting guy, even though he was completely exhausted. We can put the rumors that the Cup travels in its own seat to rest - it gets checked in a giant toughcase. 
I'm a little sad that all the pictures of me with the cup feature the most cracked out hair I've sported in the history of ever, but the fact remains that I'm right there with the Cup and that is the shit.
I loved the practice jerseys they worked up for the All Star season and of course I got Patrick Traverse's. Our friend and community liason dude Mike Myers designed that kickass logo - how cool is that? He is so talented. Besides doing a million things in the Sharks' front office, he also designs these freaking glorious goalie masks and bikes competitively. I don't think he sleeps. In any case, let's talk about the awesomeness on the loose that weekend, in the form of these fine bitches right here:
That would be me, Trish (a school friend of whose awesomeness I was already aware) and Joanne. Rich kept running in to these two chicks from San Jose, and we finally all met up before the All Star Game itself at the hospitality room the Booster Club was running. Jenna and Joanne were out to cover the ASC for the San Jose community, and they were so goddamn fun it was hard to stand. Joanne might be my long lost sister, I'm not sure. So you've now got these two gorgeous babes on the loose, and even better, they're smart as hell and love hockey. They really made the weekend.
The additions I'm making to the blog roll are their blogs, plus a friend of theirs' who Joanne recommended. Joanne writes Ten Minute Missconduct and Jenna writes OverJennaRated. Check 'em out and give 'em some love.
I'm adding three links to the already ridiculous blogroll over there on the right. Hockey's over - go Pens - but this has been a phenomenal season for a variety of reasons. Let's just do a little recap.
1. Got to hit up the Sharks/Bruins game when San Jose came out to Boston this season. You don't get to see the Sharks and B's play very often since they're so far apart, and this game was even more exciting because at the time, the two opponents were number one in their respective conferences. We put up with a lot of trash talk from bandwagon fans, but were vindicated in a.) the fact that the Sharks beat the Bruins, and b.) the spectacle of a cop basically hurling one of said idiot fans into a wall for being obnoxious and bellowing "get outta here, go HOME" at him.
2. We also made it up to Montreal this year to see the Sharks play the Habs. There is nothing - NOTHING - like watching a game in the Bell Center, and being there in the Habs' 100th season was truly special. We had such an amazing time in Montreal...thumbs up for Hurley's, Sir Winston Churchill's, McLean's Pub, The Second Cup, Timmy Ho's, La Cage Aux Sports, La Maison VIP, McDonald's when McDonald's is giving out mini Carey Prices, crazy ass taxi drivers of Montreal and above all, Spa Eastman. I go to Spa Eastman whenever we go up north and they do such amazing work. Not only are their aestheticians phenomenal, but their location is on the sixteenth floor looking out over McGill University and is so unbelievably relaxing. Moreover, I was up there with Rich and a kickass woman I'm gonna talk to you about in a sec.
3. The AHL All Star Classic was in Worcester this year.
After a ton of work and coordination, the weekend finally rolled around about thirty seconds after I'd returned from the Inaguration in DC. We made a lot of new friends, particularly as we were picking the players, executives and mascots up at the area airports.
Making important business contacts
Now, I don't mean to malign any of the people we picked up at the airport - they were all super friendly and fun to meet - but Rich and I got an even more exciting opportunity. We went to pick up the Stanley Cup and its escort, Mike Bolt, from Logan Airport.
Saw Zdeno Chara and Marc Savard in bag claim along with San Jose Sharks GM Doug Wilson in bag claim; the Cup was coming back from the NHL All Star Classic in Montreal, so all these folks were coming from the same place.
Here we are with the Stanley Cup in the back of the truck. Mike was a really interesting guy, even though he was completely exhausted. We can put the rumors that the Cup travels in its own seat to rest - it gets checked in a giant toughcase. 
I'm a little sad that all the pictures of me with the cup feature the most cracked out hair I've sported in the history of ever, but the fact remains that I'm right there with the Cup and that is the shit.
I loved the practice jerseys they worked up for the All Star season and of course I got Patrick Traverse's. Our friend and community liason dude Mike Myers designed that kickass logo - how cool is that? He is so talented. Besides doing a million things in the Sharks' front office, he also designs these freaking glorious goalie masks and bikes competitively. I don't think he sleeps. In any case, let's talk about the awesomeness on the loose that weekend, in the form of these fine bitches right here:
That would be me, Trish (a school friend of whose awesomeness I was already aware) and Joanne. Rich kept running in to these two chicks from San Jose, and we finally all met up before the All Star Game itself at the hospitality room the Booster Club was running. Jenna and Joanne were out to cover the ASC for the San Jose community, and they were so goddamn fun it was hard to stand. Joanne might be my long lost sister, I'm not sure. So you've now got these two gorgeous babes on the loose, and even better, they're smart as hell and love hockey. They really made the weekend. The additions I'm making to the blog roll are their blogs, plus a friend of theirs' who Joanne recommended. Joanne writes Ten Minute Missconduct and Jenna writes OverJennaRated. Check 'em out and give 'em some love.
Family Always Wins, Even When Things Are Great Already
Went in to work today, and it was hectic. We're moving around one section of the building and since I'm in facilities I get to be involved with all the organizing and shuffling. I love where I work, and even though it was chaotic, it was nice to be able to help the people I work with and be in the middle of everything. No one will be surprised to hear me say that a certain part of me loves a little bit of mayhem and thrives on it. Fun day, changed outfits in the bathroom like the classy babe I am and left a little early.
I went from work to a Jim McGovern fundraiser where Bill Clinton was speaking. I would actually stab someone to write for him. He has such wonderful wit and a fantastic ability to get intimate with his audience in a very short amount of time. I had a total blast.
Left the fundraiser to go to Michael's to watch game 7. Last year's Penguin loss in the final was heartbreaking; it's always tough to see grown men cry, but these guys didn't even seem like grown men. They'd wanted it so, so badly. Watching them win this year's Stanley Cup was supremely cathartic, and it was great to watch playoff hockey without the hair falling out of my hair in clumps from stressing. Well freaking done, boys, and congrats to Hershey as well. On our way out, we stopped to watch the Red Sox beat my Grandad's Phillies in extra innings with a couple of great plays.
I came home and there were a couple packages - it is wedding season indeed - one of which contained the garters that my Grandma wore at her wedding in 1944. Her mom, Pansy Blossom Logan Schmeck, made them for her for the occasion. Grandma included a note, which was 100% sweet and had some phenomenal passages, to wit:
I went from work to a Jim McGovern fundraiser where Bill Clinton was speaking. I would actually stab someone to write for him. He has such wonderful wit and a fantastic ability to get intimate with his audience in a very short amount of time. I had a total blast.
Left the fundraiser to go to Michael's to watch game 7. Last year's Penguin loss in the final was heartbreaking; it's always tough to see grown men cry, but these guys didn't even seem like grown men. They'd wanted it so, so badly. Watching them win this year's Stanley Cup was supremely cathartic, and it was great to watch playoff hockey without the hair falling out of my hair in clumps from stressing. Well freaking done, boys, and congrats to Hershey as well. On our way out, we stopped to watch the Red Sox beat my Grandad's Phillies in extra innings with a couple of great plays.
I came home and there were a couple packages - it is wedding season indeed - one of which contained the garters that my Grandma wore at her wedding in 1944. Her mom, Pansy Blossom Logan Schmeck, made them for her for the occasion. Grandma included a note, which was 100% sweet and had some phenomenal passages, to wit:
Your Grand-dad and I were married July 29, 1944, in Sage Chapel, at Cornell University, up there in Ithaca, New York. He was a civilian teaching navy officers about engineering, and I was teaching in the College of Home Economics (now Human Ecology) in the Costume Shop, a wonderful place. I met him in January, and we were married in July. When he died, we had been married 62 years!!! It lasted."It lasted." I mean, really. Best day ever.
With very much love, I now give you my wedding garters, made by your great grand-mother, Pansy Logan, from Kentucky.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Nouveau Riche
I always thought of the term "nouveau riche" as a vaguely snotty concept employed by ladies who wore a lot of pleated skirts and pearls to refer to those who made their money and spent it on fairly conspicuous consumption. Luckily, the grand tradition of living in society gives us the eternal gift of neighbors, and neighbors are nothing if not constant sources of learning and amazement.
There are some people who live near-ish to Rich's parents who knocked down an extremely old and venerable smallish house to build not one, but two hideous McMansionesque heaps of rock. This would be offensive enough, had they not then decided to top off this extravaganza with lawn decor that could not be more representative of the most garish manifestation of the "nouveau riche" concept if it had neon signs attached to it announcing its price tag. Let me illuminate for you the glory of this masterpiece.
This is a fountain of some sort that represents one of two pieces of pseudo-Asian influence. It's got that kind of Japanese zen fountain thing going on...but accented with some kind of white lump of rock that makes no sense and looks bizarre. There is also a heron sculpture next to it. Remarkably, this is an improvement...it replaced a topiary of either an elephant or a poodle (jury's still out), which Rich brilliantly described as having been "so ugly it killed itself."
This is the Buddha statue upon whose belly the street number is displayed. The hitching post is presumably for tethering the Hummer I'm sure I didn't need to tell you they drive.
On the left hand side of the yard, these two pieces of magic are waiting for you. No yard is complete without a waving American flag carved in granite and the Anheuser-Busch eagle. I suspect it's actually meant to represent one of the armed forces, but frankly, this looks like a Bud Light kind of house, you know?
You pass those tiny pieces of stony delight on your way to house number two, which is not quite as hideous as house number one, but does have the distinct advantage of having a granite Mickey and Minnie Mouse in the front yard. Those are the things on the right...to the left is what I have to assume is a plastic object made to LOOK like stone, because it's a water wheel that turns. Luckily, they had the foresight to install an additional hitching post for when the first house's inhabitants visit.
I was not able to get a picture of the larger-than-life-size mannequin of abject horror that stands guard on the porch of house number one...it's a woman in a black gown, and I have no idea what the hell it's about.
I must learn to operate the zoom on my phone.
There are some people who live near-ish to Rich's parents who knocked down an extremely old and venerable smallish house to build not one, but two hideous McMansionesque heaps of rock. This would be offensive enough, had they not then decided to top off this extravaganza with lawn decor that could not be more representative of the most garish manifestation of the "nouveau riche" concept if it had neon signs attached to it announcing its price tag. Let me illuminate for you the glory of this masterpiece.
This is a fountain of some sort that represents one of two pieces of pseudo-Asian influence. It's got that kind of Japanese zen fountain thing going on...but accented with some kind of white lump of rock that makes no sense and looks bizarre. There is also a heron sculpture next to it. Remarkably, this is an improvement...it replaced a topiary of either an elephant or a poodle (jury's still out), which Rich brilliantly described as having been "so ugly it killed itself."
This is the Buddha statue upon whose belly the street number is displayed. The hitching post is presumably for tethering the Hummer I'm sure I didn't need to tell you they drive.
On the left hand side of the yard, these two pieces of magic are waiting for you. No yard is complete without a waving American flag carved in granite and the Anheuser-Busch eagle. I suspect it's actually meant to represent one of the armed forces, but frankly, this looks like a Bud Light kind of house, you know? 
You pass those tiny pieces of stony delight on your way to house number two, which is not quite as hideous as house number one, but does have the distinct advantage of having a granite Mickey and Minnie Mouse in the front yard. Those are the things on the right...to the left is what I have to assume is a plastic object made to LOOK like stone, because it's a water wheel that turns. Luckily, they had the foresight to install an additional hitching post for when the first house's inhabitants visit.I was not able to get a picture of the larger-than-life-size mannequin of abject horror that stands guard on the porch of house number one...it's a woman in a black gown, and I have no idea what the hell it's about.
I must learn to operate the zoom on my phone.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
High Church
Last night, I sang the Easter Vigil with the Assumption Festival Choir, and this year's service was particularly significant because it was presided over by Cardinal Francis Arinze, who is a very interesting man with whom I disagree on several issues. It seemed like a no-brainer to join the Festival Choir for this event because not only was the music absolutely gorgeous, but when a Cardinal comes to your school, I think you go to see them. Regardless of my personal religious beliefs, I have great respect for anyone who has dedicated their life to the study of theology and ultimately to faith. Doing so denotes a certain selflessness, because the person must make a concious decision to spend their life defending and explaining a discipline that cannot offer much in the way of physical, unquestionable proof and is eternally under fire. Since we cannot shake hands with God, the last step in religious study will always be a leap of faith, and I think to dedicate your life to defending something that relies on that faith takes some pretty serious balls.
In any case, the Chapel looked gorgeous; the Brother who handles the decor really works with the simple lines of the Chapel at all times, but he really outdid himself for this service. It was all beautiful spring flowers (glory hallelujah, spring might actually be here for real!) and draped fabric. The effect was really powerful, though I would have limited all the fabric to one color. The service was really well suited to reflection upon the spirit of the season - renewal, rebirth, Jesus, etc. I think that even non-Catholics can likely get behind the spirit of Lent and Easter, if you take the Jesus bits out of it...they're dedicated first to improving yourself and then to moving forward anew. I like that Catholicism does emphasize those areas, and at least at Assumption, it was encouraged outside of the pretext of crushing guilt excessive focus on sin. It doesn't get left wholly out of the equation, but it's not as dominant as it seems to be in other congregations.
The service was...epic. As we know, I am not Catholic, so "Easter Vigil" does not trigger any kinds of warnings about schedule-clearing or footwear advice. I had planned to meet Rich and our friend Joanne downtown afterwards, assuming I would get out at about the same time as the hockey game. Apparently as Rich and Joanne waited for my fool self after the game, the following conversation took place:
Joanne: Wait, did she say what this was?
Rich: No, some church thing, I never know what she's doing.
J: But are there going to be candles?
R: I...have no idea?
J: Oh my God. If it's the thing with the candles, it's gonna be two and a half hours.
It was two and a half hours.
It went really well...the sound was simply amazing and the service was beautifully planned. Needless to say, I don't get a whole lot of high church in my life, so it was really fascinating to see the formal whickety-whack and ceremony with the Cardinal presiding. Cardinal Arinze stopped at the end of the Vigil to say that he was very impressed with the spirit of prayerfulness in the Vigil. He also mentioned the choir specifically - he said he'd heard before coming to Assumption that we sang really well and that now having heard us, he had to agree. Pretty high praise when you figure the guy's home office is the Vatican and he probably hears a lot of really high caliber choirs.
The one thing that took away slightly from the experience for me personally was a section of the Cardinal's homily where he was talking about the Nicene Creed and the parts of it. He pointed out that Catholics declare their belief in "the Catholic Church...the true church...the church that Jesus founded, and gave to Peter, that has been around for 2000 years, not some church that was made up yesterday." Now, of course Catholics pledge this - it's their Church, and they should believe in it to that depth - but it seemed a little unnecessary to throw in the "not some church that was made up yesterday" phrase. It's inherent in the first part of the passage, restating it just makes it more aggressive than need be. I don't begrudge him the view, and obviously I'm more sensitive to it.
I joined Chapel Choir with some concerns over how I would be recieved as a Protestant - particularly one of a stripe that not too many people know about - and since joining I have felt one hundred percent welcome and accepted in the Assumption College Chapel. I was just kind of disappointed in that one dull spot of the Easter Vigil, because it marked the first and only time I've ever felt even the tiniest bit unwelcome in the community, and it came at a true high point in my musical life. I will note that I walked out of the church and shook hands with all the priests who I have gotten to know and they were exactly as warm and friendly as they always are, and that salvaged that brief dip in good feeling. Assumption really has something special.
In any case, the Chapel looked gorgeous; the Brother who handles the decor really works with the simple lines of the Chapel at all times, but he really outdid himself for this service. It was all beautiful spring flowers (glory hallelujah, spring might actually be here for real!) and draped fabric. The effect was really powerful, though I would have limited all the fabric to one color. The service was really well suited to reflection upon the spirit of the season - renewal, rebirth, Jesus, etc. I think that even non-Catholics can likely get behind the spirit of Lent and Easter, if you take the Jesus bits out of it...they're dedicated first to improving yourself and then to moving forward anew. I like that Catholicism does emphasize those areas, and at least at Assumption, it was encouraged outside of the pretext of crushing guilt excessive focus on sin. It doesn't get left wholly out of the equation, but it's not as dominant as it seems to be in other congregations.
The service was...epic. As we know, I am not Catholic, so "Easter Vigil" does not trigger any kinds of warnings about schedule-clearing or footwear advice. I had planned to meet Rich and our friend Joanne downtown afterwards, assuming I would get out at about the same time as the hockey game. Apparently as Rich and Joanne waited for my fool self after the game, the following conversation took place:
Joanne: Wait, did she say what this was?
Rich: No, some church thing, I never know what she's doing.
J: But are there going to be candles?
R: I...have no idea?
J: Oh my God. If it's the thing with the candles, it's gonna be two and a half hours.
It was two and a half hours.
It went really well...the sound was simply amazing and the service was beautifully planned. Needless to say, I don't get a whole lot of high church in my life, so it was really fascinating to see the formal whickety-whack and ceremony with the Cardinal presiding. Cardinal Arinze stopped at the end of the Vigil to say that he was very impressed with the spirit of prayerfulness in the Vigil. He also mentioned the choir specifically - he said he'd heard before coming to Assumption that we sang really well and that now having heard us, he had to agree. Pretty high praise when you figure the guy's home office is the Vatican and he probably hears a lot of really high caliber choirs.
The one thing that took away slightly from the experience for me personally was a section of the Cardinal's homily where he was talking about the Nicene Creed and the parts of it. He pointed out that Catholics declare their belief in "the Catholic Church...the true church...the church that Jesus founded, and gave to Peter, that has been around for 2000 years, not some church that was made up yesterday." Now, of course Catholics pledge this - it's their Church, and they should believe in it to that depth - but it seemed a little unnecessary to throw in the "not some church that was made up yesterday" phrase. It's inherent in the first part of the passage, restating it just makes it more aggressive than need be. I don't begrudge him the view, and obviously I'm more sensitive to it.
I joined Chapel Choir with some concerns over how I would be recieved as a Protestant - particularly one of a stripe that not too many people know about - and since joining I have felt one hundred percent welcome and accepted in the Assumption College Chapel. I was just kind of disappointed in that one dull spot of the Easter Vigil, because it marked the first and only time I've ever felt even the tiniest bit unwelcome in the community, and it came at a true high point in my musical life. I will note that I walked out of the church and shook hands with all the priests who I have gotten to know and they were exactly as warm and friendly as they always are, and that salvaged that brief dip in good feeling. Assumption really has something special.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
"I Want To Blame You, Then Kill You."
Dear Drivers of Worcester,
I realize I left the city for Holden but as a Worcester Consortium student with parents still in residence in Worcester, I DEMAND that I receive my portion of whatever drugs they are handing out at the DMV, because seriously people, what. The. Fuck.
Yeah, guy who pulled a full, illegal, pointless u-turn at a major lighted intersection for no immediately apparent reason at TWO GODDAMN MILES AN HOUR, proceeded to nearly take the back end off a mail truck, and then somehow - and I say somehow because despite watching this happen I STILL do not know how the fuck you accomplished it - managed to steal someone's parking space WHILE THEY WERE PARKING IN IT? Fuck you, guy. Fuck you long, hard, and pointlessly. Also, when I honk at you, do NOT act like you have no idea what I could possibly be irritated by, because there is no way you do not realize the consummate douchiness of your driving skills.
Moreover, you two jackasses who decided to engage in some kind of tag team match with my car while I was at the game by parking about six inches off my front AND rear bumpers can catch fire and die horribly. Dude on my front bumper, YOU were parked illegally and also I think obstructing an entire lane of traffic. Jank-ass Corolla behind me, I'd just like to note that there were about THREE GODDAMN MILES OF OPEN SPACE behind you, so I'm going to assume you just have some kind of mental defect that keeps you from parking like a normal human. But I really want to know...are you just really fucking bad at parking? Do you not understand how it works? Are you a fucking moron? To paraphrase a very smart man..."when I see that, I want to blame you, then key the everloving shit out of your car."
And WHILE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC, Worcester Parking Police, you people are why atheism happens. If I parked even HALF as poorly as these motherfuckers, my car wouldn't even be COOL by the time you ticketed me, and yet these dipshits park like blind people piloting oil tankers and they blissfully sail through life without fear of parking fines.
Listen to me, people...share the crack rocks they're doling out in Drivers' Ed and start driving and parking like civilised human beings, or I am going to ram you with my vehicle.
Love,
Me
I realize I left the city for Holden but as a Worcester Consortium student with parents still in residence in Worcester, I DEMAND that I receive my portion of whatever drugs they are handing out at the DMV, because seriously people, what. The. Fuck.
Yeah, guy who pulled a full, illegal, pointless u-turn at a major lighted intersection for no immediately apparent reason at TWO GODDAMN MILES AN HOUR, proceeded to nearly take the back end off a mail truck, and then somehow - and I say somehow because despite watching this happen I STILL do not know how the fuck you accomplished it - managed to steal someone's parking space WHILE THEY WERE PARKING IN IT? Fuck you, guy. Fuck you long, hard, and pointlessly. Also, when I honk at you, do NOT act like you have no idea what I could possibly be irritated by, because there is no way you do not realize the consummate douchiness of your driving skills.
Moreover, you two jackasses who decided to engage in some kind of tag team match with my car while I was at the game by parking about six inches off my front AND rear bumpers can catch fire and die horribly. Dude on my front bumper, YOU were parked illegally and also I think obstructing an entire lane of traffic. Jank-ass Corolla behind me, I'd just like to note that there were about THREE GODDAMN MILES OF OPEN SPACE behind you, so I'm going to assume you just have some kind of mental defect that keeps you from parking like a normal human. But I really want to know...are you just really fucking bad at parking? Do you not understand how it works? Are you a fucking moron? To paraphrase a very smart man..."when I see that, I want to blame you, then key the everloving shit out of your car."
And WHILE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC, Worcester Parking Police, you people are why atheism happens. If I parked even HALF as poorly as these motherfuckers, my car wouldn't even be COOL by the time you ticketed me, and yet these dipshits park like blind people piloting oil tankers and they blissfully sail through life without fear of parking fines.
Listen to me, people...share the crack rocks they're doling out in Drivers' Ed and start driving and parking like civilised human beings, or I am going to ram you with my vehicle.
Love,
Me
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Reidar Tree
When my Mom was right out of college, she went and spent some time in Norway. She stayed for at least part of the time with a sweet couple named Borghild and Reidar, who later would come to visit us in Worcester. Reidar was an oil painter, and at one point he went down to Indian Lake to paint the giant willow tree that hung over the water. This turned out to be an exciting adventure for all of us, since he befriended a posse of small boys while he was there, and when they caught a fish, they gave it to him to take home, so we're all home thinking "boy, it's almost 5, maybe we should go round up Reidar," when here he comes up the front walk with a twitching plastic grocery bag, yelling "Fiske! Fiske!" I still don't know how that fish survived the 10 minute walk home from the lake, but we put it in the clawfoot tub for a couple days and tried to feed it flaked fish food from my brother's fish tank before realizing this plan couldn't be more flawed if we tried and returned Fiske to the Lake from whence he came.
So that was exciting, but while Reidar was down there painting, he made these very small paint test patches on a tree, and they have been there for actual years. He and Borghild came to visit when I was 8 or so, so we're talking a good 17 years that -holy crap, 17 years??? Urgh. - these paint samples have stayed on that tree.
Well, Worcester has been infested with Asian Longhorned Beetles, which are evil little bastards...they burrow deep into hardwood trees (you know, like the kind half of New England is made of?), and live, propogate, etc. there. Unfortunately, this means that the City of Worcester is going to have to chop down a lot of trees, and it looks like they have started over by Indian Lake. Now, there were two new heinous houses built on an adjoining lot recently, so maybe this is yet another offense to what was once a totally nice sweep of grass by a lake, but the location of the removed trees doesn't make sense for that. They did not chop down the Reidar Tree yet but it looks like they will get to it in time.
Yesterday I drove past the lake on my way to run some errands and saw the trees that had been chopped down, and promptly turned around and went to take pictures of the tree on my cell phone. They didn't really come out...it was overcast and the marks are small, but it got me to thinking about what a bummer it is going to be to have all these trees chopped down. There are the obvious "Trees Are Good" kinds of considerations...they make CO2, they provide shade, their roots prevent erosion, etc., etc., etc., forever and ever amen, but more than that, it will really be a shame to lose the Reidar tree and the trees that people got proposed to under and the ones that got climbed in childhoods. Until then, though, the Reidar Tree is still hanging in there.
So that was exciting, but while Reidar was down there painting, he made these very small paint test patches on a tree, and they have been there for actual years. He and Borghild came to visit when I was 8 or so, so we're talking a good 17 years that -holy crap, 17 years??? Urgh. - these paint samples have stayed on that tree.
Well, Worcester has been infested with Asian Longhorned Beetles, which are evil little bastards...they burrow deep into hardwood trees (you know, like the kind half of New England is made of?), and live, propogate, etc. there. Unfortunately, this means that the City of Worcester is going to have to chop down a lot of trees, and it looks like they have started over by Indian Lake. Now, there were two new heinous houses built on an adjoining lot recently, so maybe this is yet another offense to what was once a totally nice sweep of grass by a lake, but the location of the removed trees doesn't make sense for that. They did not chop down the Reidar Tree yet but it looks like they will get to it in time.
Yesterday I drove past the lake on my way to run some errands and saw the trees that had been chopped down, and promptly turned around and went to take pictures of the tree on my cell phone. They didn't really come out...it was overcast and the marks are small, but it got me to thinking about what a bummer it is going to be to have all these trees chopped down. There are the obvious "Trees Are Good" kinds of considerations...they make CO2, they provide shade, their roots prevent erosion, etc., etc., etc., forever and ever amen, but more than that, it will really be a shame to lose the Reidar tree and the trees that people got proposed to under and the ones that got climbed in childhoods. Until then, though, the Reidar Tree is still hanging in there.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Assorted Greatness
Several items in the Friends Being Awesome Department...
- Bridesmaid and Russian Lit Buddy Celia has taken a job as a swim coach out in Washington state, where she lives. Some of you may know that C was a big swimmer throughout high school and into college, and secretly loves swimming with a totally stupid love even during the periods when she tries to convince herself she doesn't care. She recently was featured in an article about the team in the North Kitsap Herald.
- Noted Baltimore Orioles Fan (oh and PS also an Ibn Khaldun Chair Research Fellow at AU's School of International Service) Frankie has embarked on a year long research trip to study post-9/11 Muslim life in America along with Prof. Akbar Ahmed and several other folks our age. He says he'll probably be coming to the Massachusetts/Boston/Harvard area at some point this fall, at which point I will likely attempt to stow away in his luggage. (Sorry in advance, Frankie. It's the jealousy, you see.) The trip is being called "Journey Into America" and they recently fired up a blog to record their progress and their thoughts.
- Dad was in Worcester Magazine! It wasn't really that thrilling, since he wasn't quoted and his BRAND SHINY NEW SUPERAWESOME AND EXTREMELY GREAT AIR TAXI SERVICE, SKYLINE, was only mentioned vaguely, but they did include a photo of him pulling N2242Y out of the hangar in the article about how the airport is problematic. As fate would have it, the issue hit news stands the very day before the announcement that DirectAir would begin service to Florida from ORH. Hope it all works out! (NB: I don't know if I have mentioned this, but there is an excellent local blog about the airport that is worth reading called FlyORH. The author excels at applying a certain common sense that tends to be absent in most public discussion about the airport.)
It is worth noting that I found out about this picture because Rich happened to read WoMag and pointed it out. I immediately called Dad to ask for the Skyline media director so I could request being put on the list for press releases, to which his response was "oh, they used that [picture]?" I can only imagine what the hell he thought they were taking the picture for. I would also like to point out that this kind of weird lapse in ability to gauge the importance of information happens ALL THE TIME. 
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Karaoke Night
"This was like...the full circle of this show. We're gonna take this nobody and make him such a huge somebody that this nobody will totally worship him." Top 40 Reality TV Moments on VH1
There are certain aspects of the zeitgeist that I try to experience from a position with various and clear exit routes, and preferably from a significant distance. This goal can usually be met fairly successfully when we work concessions at the DCU Center to raise money for the Booster Club (when you work the concession stands your organization gets 12% of what the stand makes). In this way, I have been able to experience small doses of Hannah Montana without being amongst the screaming youngsters, monster trucks without the exhaust inhalation and deafness, bullriding without the fine coating of dirt...and now, American Idol without, well, the screaming youngsters AND oldsters.
American Idol is a phenomenon that has largely escaped me. It debuted in my freshman year at American, and it was clear more or less from the get-go that a new age had dawned...it was all people talked about and was obsessively watched, to the point that you could tell when the commercial breaks came on, since the dorms took on a deathly still while the show was on. A lot of people have "their shows" by which they regulate things like going to the bathroom and switching the laundry...I learned to pee in accordance with OTHER people's shows, thanks to American Idol. Now, of course, everyone watches it, including my parents. (NB: While we're covering voids in my pop cultural awareness, I am also not up on the Twilight series, don't have an iPhone, and am frequently confounded by technology.) I usually have a vague sense of what's going on, just because it's a huge "news" story, but that's about the extent of it.
We worked the Sam Adams stand during the Idol concert, which meant we were right there as people came into the building via the Box Office doors. I find that concerts spawned by reality TV make for utterly bizarre audiences; I first witnessed this when we worked at the Rock Star: Supernova concert, which was attended by all ages from elementary school to retirement home and was distinguished by having absolutely no cohering factor from one attendee to the next besides everyone being psyched out of their mind to be there. So in come all the Idol fans, and again, there's no common thread. I didn't really know what to expect from the concert. I kind of have a vague idea that the losers of the competition would be singing their own songs.
Obviously, no one can take anything away from the Idol producers in terms of their success in general use of capitalism. The amount of money involved in the Idol juggernaut is mindblowing. As impressive as that all is, the most impressive achievement, to my mind, is that they have convinced people to pay money by the fuckload to see...karaoke. Every single song was a cover...Queen, Heart, The Beatles, Usher, Rhianna, Gnarls Barkley. While I give them credit for a diverse set list, it's all cover, all the time. Just for perspective, I had a guy come up to me to get a soda who noted that he had paid $600 to bring his daughters to the show. $600! From one bank account! For KARAOKE! I'm sure it was an exciting show and I get that the Idol contestants are a draw, but STILL, holy crap, the fact REMAINS.
I'm sure that the success of Idol in view of its karaokitude says nothing good about the artistic integrity of the current generation of pop stars. I frequently seem musically out of touch because I don't really listen to the radio much...so much of what's on the air is just disgustingly trite or bland, and what isn't is likely being overplayed to within an inch of its life. Frank said it best a couple weeks ago - "the best music has an actual story." If you've ever had to sing in a different language, you may have discovered that the best way to really kick ass on the tune is to get the piece translated so you know what you're singing about. True emotion, true connection to what you're singing about, is the way to make really outstanding music. Now that American Idol's success has legitimized the pop cultural presence of this kind of covering, I worry that we'll only see a continued rise of music that's written in teams, randomly paired with an up and coming singer, and that people will stop worrying about writing and performing and buying music that's actually ABOUT something. That is a damn shame.
There are certain aspects of the zeitgeist that I try to experience from a position with various and clear exit routes, and preferably from a significant distance. This goal can usually be met fairly successfully when we work concessions at the DCU Center to raise money for the Booster Club (when you work the concession stands your organization gets 12% of what the stand makes). In this way, I have been able to experience small doses of Hannah Montana without being amongst the screaming youngsters, monster trucks without the exhaust inhalation and deafness, bullriding without the fine coating of dirt...and now, American Idol without, well, the screaming youngsters AND oldsters.
American Idol is a phenomenon that has largely escaped me. It debuted in my freshman year at American, and it was clear more or less from the get-go that a new age had dawned...it was all people talked about and was obsessively watched, to the point that you could tell when the commercial breaks came on, since the dorms took on a deathly still while the show was on. A lot of people have "their shows" by which they regulate things like going to the bathroom and switching the laundry...I learned to pee in accordance with OTHER people's shows, thanks to American Idol. Now, of course, everyone watches it, including my parents. (NB: While we're covering voids in my pop cultural awareness, I am also not up on the Twilight series, don't have an iPhone, and am frequently confounded by technology.) I usually have a vague sense of what's going on, just because it's a huge "news" story, but that's about the extent of it.
We worked the Sam Adams stand during the Idol concert, which meant we were right there as people came into the building via the Box Office doors. I find that concerts spawned by reality TV make for utterly bizarre audiences; I first witnessed this when we worked at the Rock Star: Supernova concert, which was attended by all ages from elementary school to retirement home and was distinguished by having absolutely no cohering factor from one attendee to the next besides everyone being psyched out of their mind to be there. So in come all the Idol fans, and again, there's no common thread. I didn't really know what to expect from the concert. I kind of have a vague idea that the losers of the competition would be singing their own songs.
Obviously, no one can take anything away from the Idol producers in terms of their success in general use of capitalism. The amount of money involved in the Idol juggernaut is mindblowing. As impressive as that all is, the most impressive achievement, to my mind, is that they have convinced people to pay money by the fuckload to see...karaoke. Every single song was a cover...Queen, Heart, The Beatles, Usher, Rhianna, Gnarls Barkley. While I give them credit for a diverse set list, it's all cover, all the time. Just for perspective, I had a guy come up to me to get a soda who noted that he had paid $600 to bring his daughters to the show. $600! From one bank account! For KARAOKE! I'm sure it was an exciting show and I get that the Idol contestants are a draw, but STILL, holy crap, the fact REMAINS.
Dear Future Children,
I will not love you that much.
Love,
Me
I'm sure that the success of Idol in view of its karaokitude says nothing good about the artistic integrity of the current generation of pop stars. I frequently seem musically out of touch because I don't really listen to the radio much...so much of what's on the air is just disgustingly trite or bland, and what isn't is likely being overplayed to within an inch of its life. Frank said it best a couple weeks ago - "the best music has an actual story." If you've ever had to sing in a different language, you may have discovered that the best way to really kick ass on the tune is to get the piece translated so you know what you're singing about. True emotion, true connection to what you're singing about, is the way to make really outstanding music. Now that American Idol's success has legitimized the pop cultural presence of this kind of covering, I worry that we'll only see a continued rise of music that's written in teams, randomly paired with an up and coming singer, and that people will stop worrying about writing and performing and buying music that's actually ABOUT something. That is a damn shame.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Stop Trying to Make Fetch Happen. It's NOT Going to Happen.
After a nice weekend of low key and thus great hanging out, I have a brief miscellany report. It's a lazy Monday, and I don't have any long, ambling political babble for you (yet). The best I can do right now is to offer up some Things That Are Great for your enjoyment, which really...not bad for a Monday.
Pens
I am a writing snob. This is unavoidable. I love stationery and spend a lot of time over at Smythson fantasizing about which set of bespoke stationery or which gorgeous leather writing desk I'm going to buy when the whole Winning The Lottery Plan pans out. When my parents went to Italy some years ago and brought back beautiful writing papers from Il Papiro, my life as a writer was changed forever. When we went to Italy last year, Il Papiro was the store I spent the most money in...this in a country known for shoes. I'm just saying.
For all this "it's all about the craaaaaahft" type posturing on my part, I have a weird affection for regular, run of the mill, totally unsnazzy blue Papermate ballpoint pens. I almost always write in blue ink, and I particularly like the shade that Papermate uses. I also find that these pens routinely write smoothly and that the barrel is comfortable. Mostly because I like these pens so much, when you say "Papermate," I think only of a blue plastic ballpoint. However, last week, our Office Max people came in and gave my boss two Papermate Ph.D pens, one of which she in turn gave to me. I usually have a hard time with pens that have large barrels, and squishy grippy areas often make my fingers crampy, but this Ph.D pen is fantastic. No cramping, nice writing, good weight. Nice work, Papermate people! (According to their website, the grip is endorsed by the "American Physical Theraphy Association," so that's something, right? SHAME, Papermate web editors!)
I can't end the discussion of pens without mentioning the MAGIC Cross fountain pen that Mom and Dad gave me for Christmas this past year. When I was younger, I went through a fountain pen phase, which basically meant my hands were black and blue all the time from spilling cheap fountain ink all over creation. You really need to invest in your fountain pens, and being in high school at the time, I usually either had no money or was busy investing it in bulk shipments of body glitter and ill-advised makeup (high school was such a strange, scary time in retrospect, no?), so I bought cheap fountain pens that leaked like a mofo and did not achieve the desired effect of instant suaveitude and fabulousity that I had hoped for. THIS pen however, accomplishes all that and more, and I am pretty much one step away from actually sleeping with it under my pillow at all times. The pen in question is the Cross Century II Starlight fountain pen, and I have it in the midnight blue shown below.
Shoes
I went to the Solomon Pond Mall with School Friend Cindy this Saturday, breaking a years-long tradition of staying as far away as possible from it in order to avoid the more irritating high school alums. There's really no way to say this without sounding like a jerk, but the fact of the matter is that every time I go to Solomon Pond, I don't run into the select few people from high school that I would LIKE to see. I inevitably run into the people who I either hated or just didn't care for, and these people ALWAYS want to catch up on our entire lives from graduation to the present. I don't mean to be rude, but...we weren't tight in high school, you don't actually care what I've been up to, and even if you've received some kind of blow to the head that made you all Super Empath and you do care, I don't really care what you've been up to. I know exactly how this sounds - snobbish and jerky - but I don't really like malls as it is (sensory overload) and I prefer to get in and get out, so the addition of 20 minutes of catching up with someone who I didn't really give a rip about in high school is unwelcome to say the least. That all being said, the Solomon Pond Mall has really progressed since I had last been there, and it was fun to wander around with School Friend Cindy and boggle over the fact that there is now a COACH there as well as a White House/Black Market. Who knew?
There is also an Aldo, which was selling a covered platform stiletto called Atlanticcity that was magic. School Friend Cindy got to see my shoe shopping technique, which is to stare weirdly at the shoe for roughly forever while picking it up and putting it down over and over again before finally trying them on and standing up, but not usually walking around. The color of these was particularly glorious...not too bright a red, not too dark, not too dull. I am also a big fan of classic looks with little modern details...in this case, the covered platform, funky toe shape, and interestingly cut toe box. I'm a big fan of Irregular Choice, and one of the things I like is their use of different toe box shapes - rather than your standard scooped or pointed cut, they curve right around where your foot starts turning into your toes. It gives the shoe an interesting retro-but-not-outdated-or-aggressive look, and it's easiest to see in their Marie Antoinette shoe...which of course I cannot find online, but I CAN find their Courtesan shoe online which I also own, but in a purple and gold rather than the turquoise shown in that link. Yes, I have worn those in public. Anyway, I am in love with Atlanticcity, even if right now I am looking at the picture and wondering why every damn shoe I like lately looks like a stripper shoe in pictures.
Pens
I am a writing snob. This is unavoidable. I love stationery and spend a lot of time over at Smythson fantasizing about which set of bespoke stationery or which gorgeous leather writing desk I'm going to buy when the whole Winning The Lottery Plan pans out. When my parents went to Italy some years ago and brought back beautiful writing papers from Il Papiro, my life as a writer was changed forever. When we went to Italy last year, Il Papiro was the store I spent the most money in...this in a country known for shoes. I'm just saying.
For all this "it's all about the craaaaaahft" type posturing on my part, I have a weird affection for regular, run of the mill, totally unsnazzy blue Papermate ballpoint pens. I almost always write in blue ink, and I particularly like the shade that Papermate uses. I also find that these pens routinely write smoothly and that the barrel is comfortable. Mostly because I like these pens so much, when you say "Papermate," I think only of a blue plastic ballpoint. However, last week, our Office Max people came in and gave my boss two Papermate Ph.D pens, one of which she in turn gave to me. I usually have a hard time with pens that have large barrels, and squishy grippy areas often make my fingers crampy, but this Ph.D pen is fantastic. No cramping, nice writing, good weight. Nice work, Papermate people! (According to their website, the grip is endorsed by the "American Physical Theraphy Association," so that's something, right? SHAME, Papermate web editors!)
I can't end the discussion of pens without mentioning the MAGIC Cross fountain pen that Mom and Dad gave me for Christmas this past year. When I was younger, I went through a fountain pen phase, which basically meant my hands were black and blue all the time from spilling cheap fountain ink all over creation. You really need to invest in your fountain pens, and being in high school at the time, I usually either had no money or was busy investing it in bulk shipments of body glitter and ill-advised makeup (high school was such a strange, scary time in retrospect, no?), so I bought cheap fountain pens that leaked like a mofo and did not achieve the desired effect of instant suaveitude and fabulousity that I had hoped for. THIS pen however, accomplishes all that and more, and I am pretty much one step away from actually sleeping with it under my pillow at all times. The pen in question is the Cross Century II Starlight fountain pen, and I have it in the midnight blue shown below.
ShoesI went to the Solomon Pond Mall with School Friend Cindy this Saturday, breaking a years-long tradition of staying as far away as possible from it in order to avoid the more irritating high school alums. There's really no way to say this without sounding like a jerk, but the fact of the matter is that every time I go to Solomon Pond, I don't run into the select few people from high school that I would LIKE to see. I inevitably run into the people who I either hated or just didn't care for, and these people ALWAYS want to catch up on our entire lives from graduation to the present. I don't mean to be rude, but...we weren't tight in high school, you don't actually care what I've been up to, and even if you've received some kind of blow to the head that made you all Super Empath and you do care, I don't really care what you've been up to. I know exactly how this sounds - snobbish and jerky - but I don't really like malls as it is (sensory overload) and I prefer to get in and get out, so the addition of 20 minutes of catching up with someone who I didn't really give a rip about in high school is unwelcome to say the least. That all being said, the Solomon Pond Mall has really progressed since I had last been there, and it was fun to wander around with School Friend Cindy and boggle over the fact that there is now a COACH there as well as a White House/Black Market. Who knew?
There is also an Aldo, which was selling a covered platform stiletto called Atlanticcity that was magic. School Friend Cindy got to see my shoe shopping technique, which is to stare weirdly at the shoe for roughly forever while picking it up and putting it down over and over again before finally trying them on and standing up, but not usually walking around. The color of these was particularly glorious...not too bright a red, not too dark, not too dull. I am also a big fan of classic looks with little modern details...in this case, the covered platform, funky toe shape, and interestingly cut toe box. I'm a big fan of Irregular Choice, and one of the things I like is their use of different toe box shapes - rather than your standard scooped or pointed cut, they curve right around where your foot starts turning into your toes. It gives the shoe an interesting retro-but-not-outdated-or-aggressive look, and it's easiest to see in their Marie Antoinette shoe...which of course I cannot find online, but I CAN find their Courtesan shoe online which I also own, but in a purple and gold rather than the turquoise shown in that link. Yes, I have worn those in public. Anyway, I am in love with Atlanticcity, even if right now I am looking at the picture and wondering why every damn shoe I like lately looks like a stripper shoe in pictures.
Stuff from the Body Shop
There is also a Body Shop in Solomon Pond now, and School Friend Cindy needed to stock up on some essentials, so in we went. I have been meaning to try lip and cheek stains for a while now, and picked up a promising looking one, as well as a hemp lip protector (read: chapstick). I wore the lip stain out later that night for Martha the Canuck's birthday shindig at Funky Murphy's in the Woo, and it was great...not only did it keep my lip situation off the rims of glasses, but it was a good foray for me into the land of pink, which I usually am afraid of. I doubt I'll ever use it on my cheeks, but that's more of an issue of my not liking blushes in general. My theory on my face is that I pretty much hit the jackpot in terms of natural coloring, so I try not to mess too much with its color...whatever I do use (with the exception of eyeshadow) usually winds up being a simple magnification of my natural coloring, including the notable example of one lipstick I have that is identical to my lip tone, but sparkly. That's just how I roll.
The hemp lip stuff is also great...School Friend Cindy warned me about the smell of Body Shop's hemp stuff, which I agree is not my favorite, but in chapstick form, it's negligable and far outweighed by the excellence of the product itself. My lips and hands have been doing this great thing lately where they are super dry and spend a lot of their time flaking (leprosy?), so I've been going through chapstick and hand cream like my life depends on it. Chapstick is a tricky beast...everyone's had slimy, greasy, and ineffective chapsticks, and everyone has a preferred type. I like ones that absorb easily and that have a firm texture, so I go mostly for beeswax based ones (like the ninety seven Burt's Bees ones in my possession). Highly recommend, though IF you buy both the chapstick and the lipstain and think "I'll just use good lip product etiquette and apply this chapstick to moisturize first to ensure smooth application," do not follow that instinct - the lip stain needs a pretty clean lip so it can set up and get itself situated.
No Body Shop praise can be complete without a nod to their excellent social policy - while as you know I'm not a fan of people buying shit made out of hemp or handmade by African children just so they can tell you about it, Body Shop has struck a good balance in making all their products as good quality and natural as you could possibly hope, while also encouraging fair trade. They are walking the walk, big time, and I appreciate that about them.
...that does not mean I am not going to make fun of them when they act dumb as hell. I have a bath puff that has a plastic cartoon frog on the top of it that YES I bought on purpose because when I am not busy being 80 years old I fill my time with being 5, and said froggy bath puff is getting a little beat up. I picked up a bath puff in the Body Shop and it was fabulously skooshy and soft and significantly cartoon-frog-free, so I bought it. I used it yesterday and today with my Philosophy Bubbly body wash that I also love and it was great. That being said, the Body Shop has decided that this item, shown below, used for applying body wash in the shower, is called...
...a bath lily. What in the blue fuck? A BATH LILY? Who comes up with this? This is exactly why marketing people always make me nervous...you never know when they're going to spring this crap on you. I'm sorry, Body Shop, I'm just not at a place in my life where I'm willing to call this thing a bath lily. Stop trying to make bath lily happen. It's NOT going to happen.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Worcester Bling Bling: A Study In Personality Flaws
As some of you may know, I recently did this to my phone:
I used different colors - I used clear where you see it in the above picture, but used alternating orange and dark pink for the rest. You glue on each individual crystal, and the entire thing probably took me about 3 hours (with frequent breaks for mocking from Speed). The result is a heavier, shinier Razr, to the delight of myself and two year olds. I pulled this thing out of my purse in a hurry while in the car on a sunny day and all of a sudden DISCO was in the car with me. I adore it. The process also proved an interesting examination of my vast arsenal of personality quirks and defects, to wit:
Now, some people have simply started refusing to acknowledge the existance of this phone, but others, like my parents, have embraced the experience. In that spirit, when they drove past this masterpiece, they made sure to take a picture for me.
I HAVE to go there.
Worcester has made some great strides in the 25 years I've been here, but there's some stuff that just does not come out in the wash, no matter how hard you try to Shout it out. Ghetto fabulousness is apparently one of these things, because for every upscale restaurant that pops up, something like this is usually right on its tail. They may not be neighbors, they may not even be on the same side of town, but I tell you, God bless these purveyors of ghetto fabulousity for their diligent work towards preserving the balance of culture in Woo Town.
I used different colors - I used clear where you see it in the above picture, but used alternating orange and dark pink for the rest. You glue on each individual crystal, and the entire thing probably took me about 3 hours (with frequent breaks for mocking from Speed). The result is a heavier, shinier Razr, to the delight of myself and two year olds. I pulled this thing out of my purse in a hurry while in the car on a sunny day and all of a sudden DISCO was in the car with me. I adore it. The process also proved an interesting examination of my vast arsenal of personality quirks and defects, to wit:
- I am really, really, super awesome at carrying out fine motor processes repetitively and for long periods of time. See also: knitting.
- Though I present my predilection for shiny things as a joke, it's far more true than I like to admit.
- There are certain things I should be embarassed about that I simply am not.
- I have the emotional age of a child in elementary school.
Now, some people have simply started refusing to acknowledge the existance of this phone, but others, like my parents, have embraced the experience. In that spirit, when they drove past this masterpiece, they made sure to take a picture for me.
I HAVE to go there.
Worcester has made some great strides in the 25 years I've been here, but there's some stuff that just does not come out in the wash, no matter how hard you try to Shout it out. Ghetto fabulousness is apparently one of these things, because for every upscale restaurant that pops up, something like this is usually right on its tail. They may not be neighbors, they may not even be on the same side of town, but I tell you, God bless these purveyors of ghetto fabulousity for their diligent work towards preserving the balance of culture in Woo Town.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Regeneration
I went to Meeting this Sunday with Mom, and it was a strange Meeting. One of the Friends had died on Friday, and the Meeting was just finding out about it that day, for the most part. I overheard the news, without knowing the man personally, before Meeting began, and as a result, I spent much of the time looking around the room, looking at all the old people in the room.
Our Meeting is a small one. Though the numbers are probably larger on paper, it's usually a gathering of 15 to 20 people on Sundays, barring Meetings for business and major religious holidays. I was one of three people under forty in the room, and the other two were from Philadelphia, PA and somewhere in Florida. Even when I was little and mostly just read Nancy Drew books in the windowseat, I still remember a predominance of older folks at Meeting. Meeting is held in a big yellow house on a street of other big houses, and there is a potluck after every Meeting. They have begun having events like movies at the Meetinghouse, inviting the public in to see what things are all about and to raise awareness for issues we hold dear...peace, charity, equality. It's neat, I think, that in an evermore bureaucratized, controlled society, Quakers have carved out and defended a niche for themselves, where things can be taken back to the basics...caring for your fellow man and working to better the world.
With Friend Lewis' passing, I feel all the more inspired to attend Meeting more regularly, and get more involved. It's such a lovely religion, and one that should have someone to carry the torch. On Sunday, it seemed like it would be so easy for the Worcester Meeting to slip away, to just fade into nothing. Looking at all these dignified, strong, activist elder Friends, who have lived so long under the Quaker doctrine, I felt fully what a loss it would be to allow the Meeting to disappear.
Our Meeting is a small one. Though the numbers are probably larger on paper, it's usually a gathering of 15 to 20 people on Sundays, barring Meetings for business and major religious holidays. I was one of three people under forty in the room, and the other two were from Philadelphia, PA and somewhere in Florida. Even when I was little and mostly just read Nancy Drew books in the windowseat, I still remember a predominance of older folks at Meeting. Meeting is held in a big yellow house on a street of other big houses, and there is a potluck after every Meeting. They have begun having events like movies at the Meetinghouse, inviting the public in to see what things are all about and to raise awareness for issues we hold dear...peace, charity, equality. It's neat, I think, that in an evermore bureaucratized, controlled society, Quakers have carved out and defended a niche for themselves, where things can be taken back to the basics...caring for your fellow man and working to better the world.
With Friend Lewis' passing, I feel all the more inspired to attend Meeting more regularly, and get more involved. It's such a lovely religion, and one that should have someone to carry the torch. On Sunday, it seemed like it would be so easy for the Worcester Meeting to slip away, to just fade into nothing. Looking at all these dignified, strong, activist elder Friends, who have lived so long under the Quaker doctrine, I felt fully what a loss it would be to allow the Meeting to disappear.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Sometimes Worcester Is Awesome By Accident
On the right hand side of Main Street...the giant, lovely, shiny new Courthouse.
On the left hand side of Main Street...the Irish Times, this week featuring "No Alibi" on Friday, followed by "Probable Cause" on Saturday.
On the left hand side of Main Street...the Irish Times, this week featuring "No Alibi" on Friday, followed by "Probable Cause" on Saturday.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Walmart: Not So Smiley
There is no time left in the history of the world for me to thoroughly enumerate the reasons I hate Walmart. I don't shop there, and quite frankly, there aren't that many entire retail locations I'll boycott on principle. However, when confronted with a store that's the moral equivalent of a building completely consumed by flames with some dude dressed in a red outfit with horns an a pitchfork trying to get you to come in and check out their blow out sale on locusts, I'm sorry, but I'll take a fucking pass. Just a brief rundown of assorted Walmart fucktardery...
- Their track record on treating women like the 19th Amendment ever happened is fucking abysmal.
- They violate child labor laws, which again might be an issue with the space-time continuum.
- The conga line of general worker abuse is eleventy billion miles long...starting with some relatively minor shit like not meeting a minimum wage and continuing on to deciding it was cheaper to wash injured workers' blood out of manufactured clothes than get the proper safety equipment.
- Did I mention the whole "flexible scheduling" thing, where Walmart basically was trying to force all its full-timers into the part-time job from hell?
- Not to mention the shitty healthcare, which is...inadequate at best.
- If you're a right of contract advocate and don't care what Walmart does to its own employees, you might also want to note that they don't particularly care about the quality of what they sell you or whether it will give you horrendous chemical burns on your feet.
- I personally just find the overall aesthetics of the stores so gross that even if they weren't the Corporate AntiChrist, I just don't like being in there.
I won't say that today's little piece of karmic bitchslap makes up for all Walmart's sins, but I certainly know how devastating the loss of a trademark or logo can be to a company...and I'll take any retribution I can get.
Kiss your smiley face goodbye, Walmart!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
In Which I Am Extremely Pissed
Let's talk about things I do.
I go to college full time. I take 5 classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday, all of which have reading I have to do on Tuesday, Thursday and the weekends, along with any assorted papers and presentations.
I also work on the aforementioned Tuesdays and Thursdays, where I always THINK I am going to get reading done, but rarely do. I work in Westborough, which is 30-40 minutes from my house.
I work out twice a week for an hour with a trainer.
I have a knitting group after work on Tuesdays.
I do a bunch of stuff for the Sharks Booster Club, and that's what I'd like to talk about today.
I really love the Sharks. I love the people in the front office, they get it, they know hockey. I love the Boosters, for the most part, and enjoy spending time with them. I love seeing Fiona and Shrek and our section family and all the other people around the arena. I like the DCU people and the interns and the games. I love the actual Sharks themselves - by and large, they are just a good bunch of guys, personable and funny.
When the Icecats left, it...sucked. I grew up there. I made friends there, I met throwaway boyfriends there, I had a handful of Christmases at the Centrum with my former section family in 117...I met Speed there. I knew all about the guys on the team and the teams in the league, all of that. It was like a second home. There was a year after they left where there was no team, and that was just horrendous...the upside, I guess, is that it gave Speed's and my relationship a chance to gestate, but still...no hockey. Speed basically strongarmed a new team into town, and that was good...the Sharks seemed like a good group and in the inaugural season, they proved it. We joined the Booster Club, Speed became President, and at the end of the year I'd somehow managed to be named Booster of the Year.
It was also the first time I'd had the weird sensation of enjoying losing. This is not to say the team sucked and lost all the time. They were kings of the comeback, though, to the point that they'd be down by 2 and we'd all start joking about how they had the other team right where they wanted them. And kind of not be kidding. It was thrilling...they were a dynamic team and even watching them lose was more exciting than half the wins I'd ever seen. They made the playoffs, and that was great.
This year, while it's mathematically possible for them to qualify, they're not going to do it playing like this. And that is not fair.
I don't really know who to blame. These guys, by and large, do not suck. There are some guys who could be phenomenal with some polish. When Lukas Kaspar hits the afterburners, you just straight up cannot catch him. When Mike Iggulden decides to show up for a game, he's fantastic. When the defense is cranking and Thomas Greiss and Dimitri Patzold actually have some crease to play with, they are unbeatable.
So why aren't these things happening?
I don't have a solid answer. I put a lot of it on the coach, but not being in the locker room, I don't know that I can point that finger. I DO know that sometimes, no matter how much of a big kid you are, you need a kick in the ass. I don't see that happening on the ice, and quite honestly, I think that's usually where you need it most. When you're not playing, you have plenty of time to work up a guy's motivation and psych him up. But let's have it said...20 minutes isn't long. Not at that pace. There's definitely not time to dick around and wait for the guy who's dragging ass to come to his senses, adopt a heroic pose and Do It For Love. Sometimes when you're in the shit, you just feed on your own frustration and keep screwing up. I also take serious issue with the moronic line changes and the coach's total inability to take a goddamn timeout. Look, this is basic logic.
Point of hockey = putting small rubber critter past a large man with mattresses strapped to his legs and into a net.
Method of acccomplishing above goal = guys with sticks and knives strapped to their feet do whatever they can to push it in.
Ergo, if there are no goddamn PEOPLE in the FUCKING RED ZONE, how in the HELL do you think you're going to get the puck in the goddamn net??? And yet game after game, night after night, this guy changes up as soon as the puck crosses the blue line. WHERE DID THIS GUY LEARN HOCKEY?
And with the time outs...he just doesn't call them, and often this falls into the same angry space with my motivational issues. Look, sometimes a goalie lets in two in a row, and it doesn't mean he needs to be pulled. Sometimes he just needs a slap-around. Sometimes a team needs the same. In either case, just CALL A DAMN TIMEOUT, give the peptalk and the game plan, and move on. Don't just let it drag on and hope something good will happen - be proactive.
I guess I should note that the reason I'm all hacked off is because they lost 3-1 to San Antonio last night in the most boring fucking game ever in the world without a HINT of fighting for the win.
I'd also like to talk a little bit about Jamie "Motherfucking" Koharski.
My first concious knowledge of Jamie Koharski was last season during a game against the Norfolk Admirals, and that game managed to get so fucking far out of his control that someone wound up being taken off the ice on a backboard. The Admirals were an ugly, fighty team last year, and the Sharks certainly were taking the bait, but there was no reason for a game with paid officials to get that out of hand. Since that game, he's been a consistently shitty referee...missing calls, ignoring calls, being oblivious, being an asshole...while variety may be the spice of life, no one needs a variety of ways to suck at something you get paid for.
Last night, Riley Armstrong, who, let's have it said, is a shit-stirrer to the core, got knocked down in front of the net, and some shitheel on the Rampage just started crosschecking him over and over and over. Where, you may wonder, was Koharski? Fucking nowhere to be seen. He finally tuned in by the 4th or 5th crosscheck - for those who don't know what I'm talking about, the Rampage player had his stick with a hand on each end of it, and was ramming the flat of his stick down repeatedly on Riley's shoulders, neck and back - and slapped the guy with a 5 minute major and a game misconduct.
Look, part of being a ref isn't just calling the right penalty, it's keeping the game safe. It's a violent game, and sometimes people just need a goddamn timeout. In this regard, Koharski has failed over and over and over and over, and that is fucking reprehensible. That man is going to be responsible for someone getting seriously, permanently hurt one of these days, and that is fucking terrible.
He should be out of a goddamn job.
I go to college full time. I take 5 classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday, all of which have reading I have to do on Tuesday, Thursday and the weekends, along with any assorted papers and presentations.
I also work on the aforementioned Tuesdays and Thursdays, where I always THINK I am going to get reading done, but rarely do. I work in Westborough, which is 30-40 minutes from my house.
I work out twice a week for an hour with a trainer.
I have a knitting group after work on Tuesdays.
I do a bunch of stuff for the Sharks Booster Club, and that's what I'd like to talk about today.
I really love the Sharks. I love the people in the front office, they get it, they know hockey. I love the Boosters, for the most part, and enjoy spending time with them. I love seeing Fiona and Shrek and our section family and all the other people around the arena. I like the DCU people and the interns and the games. I love the actual Sharks themselves - by and large, they are just a good bunch of guys, personable and funny.
When the Icecats left, it...sucked. I grew up there. I made friends there, I met throwaway boyfriends there, I had a handful of Christmases at the Centrum with my former section family in 117...I met Speed there. I knew all about the guys on the team and the teams in the league, all of that. It was like a second home. There was a year after they left where there was no team, and that was just horrendous...the upside, I guess, is that it gave Speed's and my relationship a chance to gestate, but still...no hockey. Speed basically strongarmed a new team into town, and that was good...the Sharks seemed like a good group and in the inaugural season, they proved it. We joined the Booster Club, Speed became President, and at the end of the year I'd somehow managed to be named Booster of the Year.
It was also the first time I'd had the weird sensation of enjoying losing. This is not to say the team sucked and lost all the time. They were kings of the comeback, though, to the point that they'd be down by 2 and we'd all start joking about how they had the other team right where they wanted them. And kind of not be kidding. It was thrilling...they were a dynamic team and even watching them lose was more exciting than half the wins I'd ever seen. They made the playoffs, and that was great.
This year, while it's mathematically possible for them to qualify, they're not going to do it playing like this. And that is not fair.
I don't really know who to blame. These guys, by and large, do not suck. There are some guys who could be phenomenal with some polish. When Lukas Kaspar hits the afterburners, you just straight up cannot catch him. When Mike Iggulden decides to show up for a game, he's fantastic. When the defense is cranking and Thomas Greiss and Dimitri Patzold actually have some crease to play with, they are unbeatable.
So why aren't these things happening?
I don't have a solid answer. I put a lot of it on the coach, but not being in the locker room, I don't know that I can point that finger. I DO know that sometimes, no matter how much of a big kid you are, you need a kick in the ass. I don't see that happening on the ice, and quite honestly, I think that's usually where you need it most. When you're not playing, you have plenty of time to work up a guy's motivation and psych him up. But let's have it said...20 minutes isn't long. Not at that pace. There's definitely not time to dick around and wait for the guy who's dragging ass to come to his senses, adopt a heroic pose and Do It For Love. Sometimes when you're in the shit, you just feed on your own frustration and keep screwing up. I also take serious issue with the moronic line changes and the coach's total inability to take a goddamn timeout. Look, this is basic logic.
Point of hockey = putting small rubber critter past a large man with mattresses strapped to his legs and into a net.
Method of acccomplishing above goal = guys with sticks and knives strapped to their feet do whatever they can to push it in.
Ergo, if there are no goddamn PEOPLE in the FUCKING RED ZONE, how in the HELL do you think you're going to get the puck in the goddamn net??? And yet game after game, night after night, this guy changes up as soon as the puck crosses the blue line. WHERE DID THIS GUY LEARN HOCKEY?
And with the time outs...he just doesn't call them, and often this falls into the same angry space with my motivational issues. Look, sometimes a goalie lets in two in a row, and it doesn't mean he needs to be pulled. Sometimes he just needs a slap-around. Sometimes a team needs the same. In either case, just CALL A DAMN TIMEOUT, give the peptalk and the game plan, and move on. Don't just let it drag on and hope something good will happen - be proactive.
I guess I should note that the reason I'm all hacked off is because they lost 3-1 to San Antonio last night in the most boring fucking game ever in the world without a HINT of fighting for the win.
I'd also like to talk a little bit about Jamie "Motherfucking" Koharski.
My first concious knowledge of Jamie Koharski was last season during a game against the Norfolk Admirals, and that game managed to get so fucking far out of his control that someone wound up being taken off the ice on a backboard. The Admirals were an ugly, fighty team last year, and the Sharks certainly were taking the bait, but there was no reason for a game with paid officials to get that out of hand. Since that game, he's been a consistently shitty referee...missing calls, ignoring calls, being oblivious, being an asshole...while variety may be the spice of life, no one needs a variety of ways to suck at something you get paid for.
Last night, Riley Armstrong, who, let's have it said, is a shit-stirrer to the core, got knocked down in front of the net, and some shitheel on the Rampage just started crosschecking him over and over and over. Where, you may wonder, was Koharski? Fucking nowhere to be seen. He finally tuned in by the 4th or 5th crosscheck - for those who don't know what I'm talking about, the Rampage player had his stick with a hand on each end of it, and was ramming the flat of his stick down repeatedly on Riley's shoulders, neck and back - and slapped the guy with a 5 minute major and a game misconduct.
Look, part of being a ref isn't just calling the right penalty, it's keeping the game safe. It's a violent game, and sometimes people just need a goddamn timeout. In this regard, Koharski has failed over and over and over and over, and that is fucking reprehensible. That man is going to be responsible for someone getting seriously, permanently hurt one of these days, and that is fucking terrible.
He should be out of a goddamn job.
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