New Year's resolutions are dumb. We never stick to them, and since time technically doesn't even move linearly, they're pointless anyway because there's not really going to be a new year but rather our silly marking of time in lives. How's that for fatalism? Regardless, here are my resolutions:
1. Learn the Periodic Table. I don't know why, exactly, but I think it's important to know some things. To have them in your back pocket should you be in a MacGyver episode where you need to read what's on the toothpaste tube and then make a puppy out of it so you can escape with your puppy. At any rate, I'm trying to learn what this stuff is that makes up our galaxy and all the crap in it.
2. Learn the Countries of the World (and their capitals). Same here. I used to know this stuff, but then I forgot it. While I could probably name most of the world's countries, I most definitely could NOT name their capitals. Once again, I think it's important to know this stuff.
3. Practice Yoga or Pilates at Home (at least twice a week). I have found that yoga makes me a better runner and pilates makes me stronger in general. Why wouldn't I do this? Mostly to watch another episode of Community or to read the New Yorker, which are both important pursuits, but they can happen not during the hour or so that I should be strengthening and lengthening.
4. Earn Good Credit. This is a trickier one, and it's one that's not so much a resolution as much as a MUST GET THIS DONE kind of urgent matter. This involves getting my finances in order, establishing a no-nonsense budget and really working toward becoming a grown-up.
5. Draw More. I used to draw all the time. I couldn't hold a pen in my hand without intricate doodles taking over every notebook and post-it. Then grad school came along and sucked my creativity and will right down a sticky pipe that leads to nowhere good. It's time to get my art life in order.
6. Get Rid of Stuff. This has been an ongoing process, but it's really time to let go. I don't know what holding on to every card I have ever received does for me, but I think it's time to move on from trinkets and heart erasers from the fifth grade. I just get so sentimental with every little thing when truthfully, it's my friendships and family that are far more important. If my house were to burn down, it shouldn't matter because I have friends (and renter's insurance).
And because we as humans not only organize time linearly but we also are superstitious, I can't end with just 6 resolutions:
7. Get Organized. This one kind of relates to #4 and #6, but seriously, folks, it's time to keep a planner for real. None of this panic and anxiety because I didn't have my schedule straight. It's time, once again, to at least pretend I'm an adult.
Happy (productive and exciting) New Year!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Id & ego
Apparently people are quitting Facebook in droves. But people are joining ole FB in droves, too. It's just that the quitters live in the US and the newbies live in developing nations, especially in South America. (And I guess this isn't that new, as the NYTimes attests.) One of the anecdotes that the first article offers is about a young man who was in an elevator with a woman who he had never personally met, but about whom he knew much: where she was from, whose sister she was, and where she had last vacationed. Another story told of a woman who felt like she was in touch with everyone even though she had been communicating solely via social media. Both left the site for good. So all this got me thinking (in the spirit of Ms. Carrie Bradshaw as she sat down at her ancient Mac): why don't I quit Facebook?
Before I tackle the why quit question, I think I should start with why I like it. It is great to keep in touch with those friends that I don't get to see often, especially the ones in far flung countries like Spain and Peru. It's great to see pictures of my friends' kids, whose childhoods I'll likely miss. It's fascinating to see what So-and-so from 1991 is doing today, and what music she listens to. It's great to keep abreast of my friends' interests and blogs and music and thoughts and ideas.
But there's another reason that I like Facebook. (This is where I get a little bit uncomfortable because it's kind of like looking in a dark, demented mirror.) Truth be told, I like the validation: that people agree with my politics, my humor, my activities, my music. Do I have something witty to say about Rick Perry? Did I unearth that weird YouTube gem? Am I attuned to current events? Is that music video really as good as I thought it was? When I thought about removing my profile, I immediately thought about getting zero likes. What would my life be like without that constant validation? Well, for one thing, it would likely make me appreciate real live validations much more (that whole face to face communication thing). It also made me think of the ways that children seem to be coddled as of late - they're never wrong, they never fail, they can't ever fall. And I think that part of that stems from the constant hypes that they receive: you are smart, you are pretty, I like your Facebook post about your cat puking this morning. And then I thought: life is hard. Sometimes people don't like you or don't like what you have to say, and that's OK as long as that distaste is expressed respectfully (no punching, please). Isn't it good for us to experience that? The constant mediation of daily activities and deep-seated politics and values removes a sense of reality and a sense of place: who is my audience? Why do I filter? Why do I care?
This long look into the dark mirror is embarrassing and telling and I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it. According to AA, awareness is half the battle (or at least a really fundamental step); is that good enough? And yet I feel like I'm copping out, abusing my new-found awareness retreating into denial. But isn't that what the internet is all about? Instant information and ME ME ME ME ME? I have a blog for crying out loud. It was originally intended to inform friends and family about goings on in Peru but it has evolved (devolved?) into a Kathryn-shaped something.
Before I tackle the why quit question, I think I should start with why I like it. It is great to keep in touch with those friends that I don't get to see often, especially the ones in far flung countries like Spain and Peru. It's great to see pictures of my friends' kids, whose childhoods I'll likely miss. It's fascinating to see what So-and-so from 1991 is doing today, and what music she listens to. It's great to keep abreast of my friends' interests and blogs and music and thoughts and ideas.
But there's another reason that I like Facebook. (This is where I get a little bit uncomfortable because it's kind of like looking in a dark, demented mirror.) Truth be told, I like the validation: that people agree with my politics, my humor, my activities, my music. Do I have something witty to say about Rick Perry? Did I unearth that weird YouTube gem? Am I attuned to current events? Is that music video really as good as I thought it was? When I thought about removing my profile, I immediately thought about getting zero likes. What would my life be like without that constant validation? Well, for one thing, it would likely make me appreciate real live validations much more (that whole face to face communication thing). It also made me think of the ways that children seem to be coddled as of late - they're never wrong, they never fail, they can't ever fall. And I think that part of that stems from the constant hypes that they receive: you are smart, you are pretty, I like your Facebook post about your cat puking this morning. And then I thought: life is hard. Sometimes people don't like you or don't like what you have to say, and that's OK as long as that distaste is expressed respectfully (no punching, please). Isn't it good for us to experience that? The constant mediation of daily activities and deep-seated politics and values removes a sense of reality and a sense of place: who is my audience? Why do I filter? Why do I care?
This long look into the dark mirror is embarrassing and telling and I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it. According to AA, awareness is half the battle (or at least a really fundamental step); is that good enough? And yet I feel like I'm copping out, abusing my new-found awareness retreating into denial. But isn't that what the internet is all about? Instant information and ME ME ME ME ME? I have a blog for crying out loud. It was originally intended to inform friends and family about goings on in Peru but it has evolved (devolved?) into a Kathryn-shaped something.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
33 (and not quite 1/3rd)
So I recently celebrated my 33rd birthday. And I love it! Mostly because I love cake and celebrations and having my friends nearby. But also because I am healthy and employed and happy and have all my teeth. It's funny because here, in our age-obsessed, wannabewrinkle-free society, we complain about getting older when in fact, we are fortunate to be alive and in pretty good shape. In Peru, birthdays are a big deal, and everyone gets a party and a dinner and cake and the whole nine yards. They joke about women turning 15 and men turning 18 over and over and over again, and when I share about how Americans fear age, my Peruvian friends sharply retort, "aren't they glad they're alive?" In a country with a much shorter life expectancy, it's no wonder that Peruvians would treasure life. Grey hairs? Bring 'em on. Slowly, anyway.
Here I am celebrating my 28th birthday in Iquitos, Peru in 2006.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Time change
So if you really did discover a time portal to 35 billion years ago, wouldn't that screw up the parallel time of the future? Like, wouldn't dinosaurs get used to humans, humans to dinosaurs and then humans and cro magnons would have a war of their own? An unmatched war, of course. And then what if humans and cro mags mated? Would the future alter as the past was? Or would there just be a parallel future? Or would past and future blend later or before?
Time is tricky territory and truthfully, I don't entirely understand it. According to Einstein (or better yet, according to my limited understanding of Einstein's theories), we can never travel backward in time but only forward. And in the novel, Einstein's Dreams, we are given thirty different vignettes of how time could change subtly and not so subtly.
All of this crosses my mind while watching the (relatively problematic, colonialist, racist and also ridiculously over budgeted) tv series, Terra Nova, which depicts the first possibility described above (humans from 2149 who leave their desperate, filthy world for earth some 85 billion years beforehand). There are as many problems with the show as there are dinosaurs in it (thanks, Stevie!), but it does raise the interesting question of time travel and of course, it pits the nerdy (though buff) scientist realm against the cro magnon (pun intended) militaristic realm in hopes of offering hope/escapism in an era of environmental and political crisis and exploring the time-honored (once again, pun intended) tradition of time travel and its possibilities. I'm not sure why I watch it other than for the purposes of procrastination (and to see how well I can identify dinosaurs, which fascinated me as a child; my favorite was the ankylosaurus because he could really knock out an opponent with that tail club), but it does occasionally lead me to ponder some questions out of the norm of my everyday life. Sigh.
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Sporty
CLE Fun Fact: Cleveland had the first traffic light in the United States back on August 5, 1914 at E. 104th and Euclid.
Organized sports have never thrilled me. I was raised by a devout Buckeye fan (class of 1967, I think) and have spent much of my life attending Ohio State football and basketball games, not to mention major (Oakland As) and minor league baseball games (Pawtucket Red Sox, anyone?), hockey games, professional basketball games, and the occasional soccer game (World Cup 1994, Chicago). We went to a fair number of Ohio State swim meets, but that doesn't really count as organized sports. I don't usually understand the rules to sporting games, and I'm generally bored. I got a little bit more interested in soccer after living in Spain and Peru and I like a soccer game here and there. I do love to watch World Cup but I think it's more about seeing the fans strut their stuff, which I find absolutely fascinating. Then there's the Ohio State Marching Band, which I have loved since youth. They are so tight and well organized and so very classic: they make me want to shout OH - IO despite my lack of allegiance to the Buckeyes as a football team.
But that's the thing that's really electrifying about sports. They unite (some would say blindly, but still) people across diverse backgrounds and cultures in a solidarity rarely found elsewhere. It's hard to put a jock and a geek and a princess and a nerd in the same place and have them get along, finding common ground but at a game, they're best friends. Fans also believe in their power as fans of X sport: "if I'm not there, they might lose!" or, "they have to win, I wore my lucky cap!" That kind of superstition is part of our culture, kind of like knocking on wood. Even though it's not really my thing, and I prefer more solitary sports (running, swimming, cycling), I do have an appreciation (to an extent) of that jocky, weird culture, even if I don't have an interest or investment in it.
Single Sex
I have long been a proponent of single-sex education. I attended an all-girls school for 9th and 10th grade and while no high school experience is without its traumas, I wouldn't take that time back for all the tea in china. (Or for a lot of money since who really needs that much tea.)
Recent studies allegedly disprove the theories that single-sex education is beneficial to students for learning and social development. While I understand part of their viewpoints, I bring to the table a high school experience evenly divided between single-sex and coed institutions. I found that in my first school, Woodlands Academy of the Sacred Heart in Lake Forest, IL, I was challenged far more in an academic sense, and I also felt extremely confident in asking questions, answering questions, and participating in debate and conversation. I was also less concerned about my general outward appearance and found competition at the school measured and healthy. Recently, Woodlands added a multi-million dollar science learning center, continuing to advocate for women's participation in STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics). While it's a small school, its theater and music programs are strong and heartily supported.
I spent my last two years at Westerville South High School in Westerville, OH, which was a dramatically different school. With a coed population of nearly 2,000 students, it was ten times larger than Woodlands. While I rarely met an academic challenge at WSHS, I participated in a world-class marching band and theater program. As the new kid with mad music skills (at the time) who came from a big city and was already in the National Honor Society (an honor that WSHS students didn't receive until their senior years), I was often given a certain amount of deference. Had I been there since the beginning of my high school career, I doubt I would have received the same reaction. My difference helped me navigate a huge school with a distinct bullying problem where many of the boys were actually practically grown men, and the divide between the sexes (and between straight and gay students) was palpable. There were expectations that women excel in certain arenas (foreign language) and not in others (statistics).
Today's high school student isn't nearly as fortunate as I was. The opportunities to marginalize, stigmatize, hate and bully students are everywhere; one no longer has to corner someone in the bathroom or in the hallway. One click of a cell phone button sends gossip swirling, ruining a young person's social life. I don't know if this would be better in a single sex school, but I do know that I generally felt more comfortable around female peers than around male AND female peers. I felt that I knew what to expect, and that I could defend myself to someone who is very much like me. Teenage girls are volatile, strange creatures (as are teenage boys) but it takes one to know one. Things might be different today, but I was pretty convinced by the single sex education option. Food for thought.
Recent studies allegedly disprove the theories that single-sex education is beneficial to students for learning and social development. While I understand part of their viewpoints, I bring to the table a high school experience evenly divided between single-sex and coed institutions. I found that in my first school, Woodlands Academy of the Sacred Heart in Lake Forest, IL, I was challenged far more in an academic sense, and I also felt extremely confident in asking questions, answering questions, and participating in debate and conversation. I was also less concerned about my general outward appearance and found competition at the school measured and healthy. Recently, Woodlands added a multi-million dollar science learning center, continuing to advocate for women's participation in STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics). While it's a small school, its theater and music programs are strong and heartily supported.
I spent my last two years at Westerville South High School in Westerville, OH, which was a dramatically different school. With a coed population of nearly 2,000 students, it was ten times larger than Woodlands. While I rarely met an academic challenge at WSHS, I participated in a world-class marching band and theater program. As the new kid with mad music skills (at the time) who came from a big city and was already in the National Honor Society (an honor that WSHS students didn't receive until their senior years), I was often given a certain amount of deference. Had I been there since the beginning of my high school career, I doubt I would have received the same reaction. My difference helped me navigate a huge school with a distinct bullying problem where many of the boys were actually practically grown men, and the divide between the sexes (and between straight and gay students) was palpable. There were expectations that women excel in certain arenas (foreign language) and not in others (statistics).
Today's high school student isn't nearly as fortunate as I was. The opportunities to marginalize, stigmatize, hate and bully students are everywhere; one no longer has to corner someone in the bathroom or in the hallway. One click of a cell phone button sends gossip swirling, ruining a young person's social life. I don't know if this would be better in a single sex school, but I do know that I generally felt more comfortable around female peers than around male AND female peers. I felt that I knew what to expect, and that I could defend myself to someone who is very much like me. Teenage girls are volatile, strange creatures (as are teenage boys) but it takes one to know one. Things might be different today, but I was pretty convinced by the single sex education option. Food for thought.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Books
I worked at a record store in undergrad (Finder's Records for you BGSU alums) and I had several regular customers. One of them was an English professor (whose name I don't remember at ALL) who was relatively snobby about her music tastes. Shortly before I was to leave to study abroad in Spain, she came in and asked me about my upcoming trip. I told her that I was excited but I was looking for some good books for the plane ride. She looked at me doubtfully and asked if I even knew what good books were. I listed some of my recent favorites (including Kingsolver, Smiley, Friedan, Sachs, Ozeki, etc.) and she looked surprised, like how could I - record store employee - know anything about literature? She wished me luck and left the store. The next day I came into work and my boss said that there was a package that had been delivered that morning; it was a bag of books with a note that explained that these were some of her current favorites, including A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley. I sent her a thank you immediately and also sent her some postcards from Spain, but I never heard back. Kindness of strangers....
And may I recommend an addictive website for those book lovers out there.
And may I recommend an addictive website for those book lovers out there.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Start slow and taper
I do love running. It wasn't always that way; in fact, I used to hate it. My mom was a marathoner and she made my brother and me run when we were kids and we were loathe to do it, choosing instead to hide by the docks and eat dry Ramen noodles.
In October of 2003, I started running because I was in a bad mood. Angry at my ex-boyfriend, I decided to blow off some steam and nearly passed out after less than a mile. I went straight home and signed up for a half marathon. The next day, when I realized what I had done, I called my best friend Michael who I remembered had mentioned running before. He enthusiastically signed up for the half as well, and thus, a runner (and her brave friend-turned-coach) was born. I didn't like running for a long time, although for some reason (likely how much I loved the trail where I trained in Austin), I kept up with it. I finished the half (February 2004) in 2 hours and 45 minutes. I decided to sign up for a full. I finished that the following year in 4 hours and 52 minutes. As soon as I crossed that finish line in February, 2005, I couldn't wait to train for the next one. And then I discovered that I actually loved running. And I challenged some other friends to join me for another race in October of 2005. Five of us ran. I finished in 4 hours, 25 minutes.
I'm still going. This Sunday I will run my sixth marathon with my dear friend April (who braved less than optimal conditions with me at the Tulsa Marathon last year), and I am so excited. I've infected new friends with the running bug and reinvigorated those who haven't run in a long time. I strike up conversations with strangers and I could talk about it for hours. I am eternally devoted to my running club and I've not found the peace and comfort that I get running on the Town Lake Trail in Austin. More important than running marathons is just running, pure and simple. Sometimes I do it to blow off steam, sometimes I do it to get invigorated, sometimes to think and sometimes to turn my mind off altogether. Sometimes it's to catch up with old and new friends. Sometimes it's because I feel weary and out of shape. Mostly, it's because it is remarkably freeing and validating because I can do it. And I hope that I can do it until I die. Maybe I won't always be able to complete the 26.2 milers, but getting in that run, even if it's just a 3 miler, is vital to my health and sanity.
Do you want to run? Give it a whirl. You can find a training guide right for you right over here. I encourage you to try it out for more than a few times; as I mentioned, for some people it takes a while to get into it, but I find it's the cheapest therapy available.
"It's a treat, being a long-distance runner, out in the world by yourself with not a soul to make you bad-tempered or to tell you what to do."
In October of 2003, I started running because I was in a bad mood. Angry at my ex-boyfriend, I decided to blow off some steam and nearly passed out after less than a mile. I went straight home and signed up for a half marathon. The next day, when I realized what I had done, I called my best friend Michael who I remembered had mentioned running before. He enthusiastically signed up for the half as well, and thus, a runner (and her brave friend-turned-coach) was born. I didn't like running for a long time, although for some reason (likely how much I loved the trail where I trained in Austin), I kept up with it. I finished the half (February 2004) in 2 hours and 45 minutes. I decided to sign up for a full. I finished that the following year in 4 hours and 52 minutes. As soon as I crossed that finish line in February, 2005, I couldn't wait to train for the next one. And then I discovered that I actually loved running. And I challenged some other friends to join me for another race in October of 2005. Five of us ran. I finished in 4 hours, 25 minutes.
I'm still going. This Sunday I will run my sixth marathon with my dear friend April (who braved less than optimal conditions with me at the Tulsa Marathon last year), and I am so excited. I've infected new friends with the running bug and reinvigorated those who haven't run in a long time. I strike up conversations with strangers and I could talk about it for hours. I am eternally devoted to my running club and I've not found the peace and comfort that I get running on the Town Lake Trail in Austin. More important than running marathons is just running, pure and simple. Sometimes I do it to blow off steam, sometimes I do it to get invigorated, sometimes to think and sometimes to turn my mind off altogether. Sometimes it's to catch up with old and new friends. Sometimes it's because I feel weary and out of shape. Mostly, it's because it is remarkably freeing and validating because I can do it. And I hope that I can do it until I die. Maybe I won't always be able to complete the 26.2 milers, but getting in that run, even if it's just a 3 miler, is vital to my health and sanity.
"It's a treat, being a long-distance runner, out in the world by yourself with not a soul to make you bad-tempered or to tell you what to do."
-Alan Sillitoe
Monday, October 03, 2011
Painful inspiration
My dear friend Becky and I went to a print fair far, far away on the other side of Cleveland in a mildly depressing office park with a smattering of industrial businesses and empty fields. Despite the strange trek through typical Americana (strip malls and Wendy's), the destination was absolutely worth it. There were prints of all kinds (woodblocks, lithographs, etchings, lino cuts, screenprints) from around the world made within the last hundred years or so, and they were awe-inspiring. Design, color, technique, theme: I kept gasping for air at the same time that I wanted to rush home to draw and create. Most of the prints we saw (that ranged in price from $125 to $5,000, all far beyond my budget) were what I call "hurt-me" pictures: art so beautiful that it gives your stomach that knotted, nostalgic feeling difficult to explain and difficult to contain. Kind of like what you feel on a crisp fall day with winter imminent but the breathtaking colors of the leaves just getting you right there. Becky and I oohed and aahed, making desperate plans to begin our adventures with the linoleum blocks that we bought last winter; we wanted to start making art right then and there.
This was one of the prints that was etched (pun totally intended) in my mind. It's by Helen Hyde and was made in 1912. It's called Mt. Orizaba. Sigh. Let's go make art!
This was one of the prints that was etched (pun totally intended) in my mind. It's by Helen Hyde and was made in 1912. It's called Mt. Orizaba. Sigh. Let's go make art!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Vitamin D
I had no idea how much I depend on Vitamin D for my happiness. This recent NY Times article stated that you only need about 15 minutes a day on your arms and legs from spring through fall to get your fair share to sustain you, but what happens in the winter? Or in cloudy cities like Cleveland where there is plenty of sun in the summer but on average fewer than 15 sunny days during the winter? Some suggest supplements, which is all fine and good but I never remember to take them. Others say move south (not an option right now). Still others suggest a sun lamp. It's not even October yet, but I suspect that I will be investing in a sun lamp soon. I hate to complain (besides about politics), but MAN ALIVE I MISS THE SUN (and it's only been gone a couple of days). I absolutely POSITIVELY WILL SURVIVE gosh darnit!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Galieleo, Brecht, and Perry
Last night I went to see Galileo by Bertolt Brecht at the Cleveland Playhouse, the longest running regional theater in the country (96 years!). It was beautifully executed (with the exception of an awkward moment filled with rapping angels and gold lamé shorts) and starred the amazing British actor Paul Whitworth. The lighting was stunning; I couldn't believe how much it added to an already lovely work. Perhaps most importantly, however, was the resounding message still remarkably relevant 70 years after the 1943 premier.
Galileo Galilei, as we laypeople understand him, was an astronomer, physicist and mathematician who propelled forward the Scientific Revolution. With his findings that the earth is not, in fact, the center of the universe (proven via recent invention the telescope), the Catholic Church found Galilei heretical and in violation of church doctrine. In fact, in October of 1992 (350+ years later), Pope John Paul II expressed regret with the way that the situation with Galilei was handled. And thus did NOT end the murky divide between the Church and Science. Brecht initially wrote the play as a sort of allegory of Naziism, but it can easily be translated to new times and centuries. His balance between the Church and Science is lovely, with doubters and believers in both camps as the Western world changed drastically toward scientific pursuits.
So, does anybody see a parallel between Rick Perry (and other GOP fundamentalists) and the scientific community today? Anyone? How is it that after years, centuries, even, of research and investigation (using the bright minds and capabilities that the Good Lord above has gifted us), the church still questions rather basic science that has significant evidence in its court? I am a theist, unlike many of my science-minded (and even ethnomusicologically-minded) friends, and I have faith in a Higher Power, but I do not at all conceive of how my faith and (I believe God's gift of) science are incompatible. Placing artifacts historically and chronologically (including Bibles and fossils) should inform us that we can take nothing literally but must conduct further research (thank you, Lord, for free will and thinking minds). The Bible makes no mention of cars or computers (or the internet at all) and yet we use them. We don't know where God stands on these SCIENTIFIC inventions. According to the Hebrew Scriptures, we can't even wear wool and linen at the same time. (Who knows how polyester fits in to the picture.) So should we abandon the theory of evolution simply because we can't seem to move beyond allegories and fables mainly employed to educate the (largely) illiterate population of 2,000 years ago? Doubt it, but who knows? Perry and others are either really stupid (possible) or looking to control large segments of today's population with both ignorance and fear. Climate change? Nah. Doesn't exist. How on earth could humans have botched things up so long if the earth is really millions and billions of years old? Mostly because we're inventive little turds and some of our science has turned against us during our pursuit of excessive profit (e.g. big agriculture that yields more corn, more corn-fed cows then pumped with anti-biotics and presto-change-o: E-coli!).
Now that I have established myself as a ranting loon, I would like to recommend that you watch Galileo at the Cleveland Playhouse if you're able. Good show, dear chaps, good show.
Galileo Galilei, as we laypeople understand him, was an astronomer, physicist and mathematician who propelled forward the Scientific Revolution. With his findings that the earth is not, in fact, the center of the universe (proven via recent invention the telescope), the Catholic Church found Galilei heretical and in violation of church doctrine. In fact, in October of 1992 (350+ years later), Pope John Paul II expressed regret with the way that the situation with Galilei was handled. And thus did NOT end the murky divide between the Church and Science. Brecht initially wrote the play as a sort of allegory of Naziism, but it can easily be translated to new times and centuries. His balance between the Church and Science is lovely, with doubters and believers in both camps as the Western world changed drastically toward scientific pursuits.
So, does anybody see a parallel between Rick Perry (and other GOP fundamentalists) and the scientific community today? Anyone? How is it that after years, centuries, even, of research and investigation (using the bright minds and capabilities that the Good Lord above has gifted us), the church still questions rather basic science that has significant evidence in its court? I am a theist, unlike many of my science-minded (and even ethnomusicologically-minded) friends, and I have faith in a Higher Power, but I do not at all conceive of how my faith and (I believe God's gift of) science are incompatible. Placing artifacts historically and chronologically (including Bibles and fossils) should inform us that we can take nothing literally but must conduct further research (thank you, Lord, for free will and thinking minds). The Bible makes no mention of cars or computers (or the internet at all) and yet we use them. We don't know where God stands on these SCIENTIFIC inventions. According to the Hebrew Scriptures, we can't even wear wool and linen at the same time. (Who knows how polyester fits in to the picture.) So should we abandon the theory of evolution simply because we can't seem to move beyond allegories and fables mainly employed to educate the (largely) illiterate population of 2,000 years ago? Doubt it, but who knows? Perry and others are either really stupid (possible) or looking to control large segments of today's population with both ignorance and fear. Climate change? Nah. Doesn't exist. How on earth could humans have botched things up so long if the earth is really millions and billions of years old? Mostly because we're inventive little turds and some of our science has turned against us during our pursuit of excessive profit (e.g. big agriculture that yields more corn, more corn-fed cows then pumped with anti-biotics and presto-change-o: E-coli!).
Now that I have established myself as a ranting loon, I would like to recommend that you watch Galileo at the Cleveland Playhouse if you're able. Good show, dear chaps, good show.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Who wants to teach, guv?
I understand that I may quite possibly be beating a dead horse, but here goes with the horse violence: teachers are underpaid. (That calls for a "duh.") Despite the fact that education was one of the first areas to get slashed in most states to attempt to deal with their horrendous deficits, and that states (and the federal government) were irresponsible with their budgets in the first place (if my Mom were in charge, everyone would be on the frugal budget and only allowed to buy one pair of shoes a year. Yes, I'm talking to myself and my bad shoe-buying habit.), there still may be a chance to save our kids but leave it to people like Kasich and others who don't value educators' skills. I invite you, Governor Kasich, to teach for a week and see what is involved in being in the classroom. I also invite you, sir, to take home what a teacher makes in a week. Then take another 10% of your income away to pay for health care and yet still pay higher co-pays and then spend your hard-earned cash on school supplies for your classroom (because your classroom budget is about $150/year). Whatcha got left? And who was going to take care of your kids and your partner? Oh, and I'm sorry, did you think you got to "relax" during the summer? Yeah, try working a part-time job, preparing lessons to meet the ridiculous academic content standards arbitrarily determined by administrators and also taking care of your family full-time. Got it?
I'm not saying that unions are perfect; they're not. And I'm not saying that all teachers are the best either. But I am saying that the middle class (to which many teachers belong) can't afford all this mumbo jumbo. We need pensions (I won't even embarrass the state of Ohio by announcing the pittance that my mother made after teaching for 30+ years) in order to pay for that assisted living that medicare won't cover after a certain period of time. We need to take care of our children and our grandchildren. And by the way, we (the middle class) didn't piddle away millions and billions on bail outs and mortgage crises. Most of us were just working. Hard. And now my friends and colleagues are being rewarded with unemployment, lowered salaries, and barely-there pension possibilities.
Seriously, guv, walk a week in any of my friends' shoes and see what it's like. And then try paying a teacher what you pay your plumber and we'll talk.
I'm not saying that unions are perfect; they're not. And I'm not saying that all teachers are the best either. But I am saying that the middle class (to which many teachers belong) can't afford all this mumbo jumbo. We need pensions (I won't even embarrass the state of Ohio by announcing the pittance that my mother made after teaching for 30+ years) in order to pay for that assisted living that medicare won't cover after a certain period of time. We need to take care of our children and our grandchildren. And by the way, we (the middle class) didn't piddle away millions and billions on bail outs and mortgage crises. Most of us were just working. Hard. And now my friends and colleagues are being rewarded with unemployment, lowered salaries, and barely-there pension possibilities.
Seriously, guv, walk a week in any of my friends' shoes and see what it's like. And then try paying a teacher what you pay your plumber and we'll talk.
And the nominees are...
Well, for those of you who are all caught up, I now work at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. Please note that this is a different (although related) entity from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We are a non-profit, they are a for-profit and we would not exist without them, although it is (mostly) they who make decisions about nominating candidates for induction.
In the meantime, my position is that I love rock and roll. I love soul, funk, punk, rock, indie, pop...the whole nine yards. But for whatever reason, I'm not particularly invested in who gets inducted. I don't have those allegiances that Kiss or Rush fans have, and the bands that I would induct (the Smiths, the Pixies, Sonic Youth, Afrika Bambaataa, Bjork) are a long way from getting inducted (politically, I believe), and that's ok by me. I still love their music, and their induction will not validate nor undermine that love.
But really, why do people get so invested? (And I'm glad that they do - it makes great fodder for discussion and it certainly demonstrates the power of popular culture. Yeah, take that, Adorno!) As my boss often notes, it's all about expertise: our adoration of a particular music, style or artist is deeply rooted in our knowledge about that music, style or artist. We know, we love, we devote our money and ears to that thing. And we are intimately acquainted (e.g. my fidelity to Guided by Voices' Under the Bushes, Under the Stars). So having an internationally recognized institution validate our expertise and devotion means a lot to a lot of people. But why the animosity when Neil Diamond gets inducted or when the Beastie Boys get nominated? Ultimately, rock and roll and all its roots and branches are deeply personal and reflect the diversity of the United States. This stuff is made of so much other stuff, and this institution is called the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame likely because it's less catchy to call it the Rock, Popular, Semi-Popular, Underground and Acoustic and Electric Roots and Who Knows What Branches Hall of Fame. Why is hip-hop part of rock and roll? Because it wouldn't have happened without rock and roll, without those LPs that were recorded in the late 1960s and early 1970s (Spinners, Chic, the JBs) and those artists that recorded those LPs wouldn't have happened without the Jackie Wilsons and Aretha Franklins and James Browns of the world who wouldn't have happened without the Mahalia Jacksons, Sister Rosetta Tharpes and Soul Stirrers who wouldn't have happened without the...you get my gist. While the melting pot metaphor has long since been abandoned, especially considering the palpable segregation that still exists here, it's apt when discussing popular music and how it happened: everyone influences everyone else and while power differentials obviously exist (and arguably we live within a post-colonial framework), it's all mashed up together.
SO...be nice and respect others' tastes. And maybe even take a listen to that Rush or Beastie Boys record. You might learn something you don't know and frankly, isn't that what life is all about?
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Hop to it, risk-taker
Has it really been more than an entire year sans adventures of Sparky? Am I lazy or what? Too much Hulu-watching and bike-riding, I suppose, but this is ridiculous. In an era of chronicling one's every breath, it's rather silly that I don't maintain a blog, a log, a chronicle of what's going on so that my future progenitors may read their mother's thoughts on some microchip installed in their frontal lobe.
So today, children (well, me, really, because who the hell else reads this thing? So I guess I could have written "chronicling one's every fart" instead), we shall learn about TAKING RISKS and how I used to be much better at that but I now suck at it. My bravery is unending when it comes to traveling solita around the world and trying new foods, but I can't seem to engage with the more banal stuff of talking to a cute man or hunting for prospective futures. Those futures, though, are what gets me. They could be anything - living in Japan, fishing, or working at the WHO in Uganda. I guess those particular examples are a bit far-fetched but the point is, I'm only 32 (for another few months), I'm finished with graduate school, I am healthy and curious and I don't have a mortgage or children. Doesn't this mean that I am free to shape my future, try new things, do whatever? And yet I feel nailed to the floor, comfortable and even complacent in the decadent apartment that I don't own, the job that I enjoy (despite being woefully underpaid) and the friends that are wonderful company. So why bother lifting a finger to do anything other than craft night or blogging? I think because it's expected of me - I should, I can, therefore I...won't? Don't wanna? Am afraid / anxious / nervous / bored? I like routine. I like spontaneity, too, but only to an extent. So the point of this post is...oh yes, to chronicle. Hopefully one day I'll look back to this and think, "what a dimwit." Or maybe, "how so very human of her, that old self of mine."
So today, children (well, me, really, because who the hell else reads this thing? So I guess I could have written "chronicling one's every fart" instead), we shall learn about TAKING RISKS and how I used to be much better at that but I now suck at it. My bravery is unending when it comes to traveling solita around the world and trying new foods, but I can't seem to engage with the more banal stuff of talking to a cute man or hunting for prospective futures. Those futures, though, are what gets me. They could be anything - living in Japan, fishing, or working at the WHO in Uganda. I guess those particular examples are a bit far-fetched but the point is, I'm only 32 (for another few months), I'm finished with graduate school, I am healthy and curious and I don't have a mortgage or children. Doesn't this mean that I am free to shape my future, try new things, do whatever? And yet I feel nailed to the floor, comfortable and even complacent in the decadent apartment that I don't own, the job that I enjoy (despite being woefully underpaid) and the friends that are wonderful company. So why bother lifting a finger to do anything other than craft night or blogging? I think because it's expected of me - I should, I can, therefore I...won't? Don't wanna? Am afraid / anxious / nervous / bored? I like routine. I like spontaneity, too, but only to an extent. So the point of this post is...oh yes, to chronicle. Hopefully one day I'll look back to this and think, "what a dimwit." Or maybe, "how so very human of her, that old self of mine."
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