I'm in love with my google homepage. i mean, i've always loved google and more specifically my google homepage but now it has the theme setting feature.... and the colors change throughout the day ("day" "night").... its cute.
that's all.
oh yes, and one month till my bday! woooohooo.
(that means, less than one month until school ends... which means less than 2 weeks to study.... booo )
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Letter...
Yay... my letter was printed today...
http://glendalenewspress.com/articles/2007/04/16/opinion/gnp-mailbag16.txt
(The link will only work for two - three weeks so I've included the GNP version below - same letter that I blogged a few days ago).
When the city editor called to "verify" my letter, we chit chatted a bit about Glendale... politics, community relations, etc. He was a bit surprised to hear that I still read the GNP everyday. Yes, I'm lame. I know. But it was great to be asked my opinion - OFF the record for once.
Also, he asked about school and whether I'm incorporating this stuff in. I wonder if he asked that because he remembers the really harsh email I accidentally cc'ed him threatening future legal action. hm.
Ethnic politics in city is still an eyesore
In his From the Margins column, Patrick Azadian suggested that a certain amount of tribalism might have played a role in the recent elections ("Going tribal during elections," April 7). In typical fashion, readers responded with a knee-jerk reaction, attacking Azadian's theory.
The unfortunate truth, however, is that tribalism exists. The exact manner in which tribalism works and effects elections is not a hard science. But the notion of bloc voting and voting based on race or last names is nothing new or unique to Glendale. Those who were so quick to reject Azadian's comments should take a course on politics or even sociology.
I don't believe Azadian means to suggest an absolute theory. There are always exceptions, and sometimes more than just a few exceptions. Not everyone votes based on last names. In fact, many of those who are so vocal in the Glendale News-Press are those who are most aware of the issues and perhaps least prone to tribal voting.
The message here is not that candidates always win or lose solely based on their ethnicity. Indeed, Councilman Rafi Manoukian would never have been elected in the first place without support from all Glendalians. But the numbers suggest that Manoukian lost the support of only one segment of the community. Furthermore, I would propose that after his failure to take the lead for Genocide Commemoration Week, Mayor Dave Weaver lost a majority of the Armenian-American votes. Thus, Weaver was likely voted into office solely on non-Armenian votes. If true, this shows tribalism on two fronts.
I believe the message here is that we need to be aware of our own tribalism. Self-awareness is the first step to erasing imaginary lines and breaking down the walls we've created. The suggestion that there was an anti-Armenian sentiment heading into these elections is not meant to be a racist remark. The suggestion is based on real and actual events throughout the last two years. Mailers linking Armenians to terrorism targeted to non-Armenian male voters (the tribalism there is undeniable), letters in the News-Press making unsubstantiated claims that Armenian-Americans commit a disproportionate amount of crime, a slew of e-mails against a proposed Armenian high school, backlash against multilingual ballots (produced by an Armenian-American city clerk), etc. Although some of these discussions are based on issues, they undeniably show that ethnic background still plays a significant role in community politics and relations in Glendale. It is on us to move beyond this.
I second Azadian's wishes. I congratulate those who were elected and have high hopes they will work to unite this community rather than using the divide-and-conquer method for the sake of their own political aspirations.
http://glendalenewspress.com/articles/2007/04/16/opinion/gnp-mailbag16.txt
(The link will only work for two - three weeks so I've included the GNP version below - same letter that I blogged a few days ago).
When the city editor called to "verify" my letter, we chit chatted a bit about Glendale... politics, community relations, etc. He was a bit surprised to hear that I still read the GNP everyday. Yes, I'm lame. I know. But it was great to be asked my opinion - OFF the record for once.
Also, he asked about school and whether I'm incorporating this stuff in. I wonder if he asked that because he remembers the really harsh email I accidentally cc'ed him threatening future legal action. hm.
Ethnic politics in city is still an eyesore
In his From the Margins column, Patrick Azadian suggested that a certain amount of tribalism might have played a role in the recent elections ("Going tribal during elections," April 7). In typical fashion, readers responded with a knee-jerk reaction, attacking Azadian's theory.
The unfortunate truth, however, is that tribalism exists. The exact manner in which tribalism works and effects elections is not a hard science. But the notion of bloc voting and voting based on race or last names is nothing new or unique to Glendale. Those who were so quick to reject Azadian's comments should take a course on politics or even sociology.
I don't believe Azadian means to suggest an absolute theory. There are always exceptions, and sometimes more than just a few exceptions. Not everyone votes based on last names. In fact, many of those who are so vocal in the Glendale News-Press are those who are most aware of the issues and perhaps least prone to tribal voting.
The message here is not that candidates always win or lose solely based on their ethnicity. Indeed, Councilman Rafi Manoukian would never have been elected in the first place without support from all Glendalians. But the numbers suggest that Manoukian lost the support of only one segment of the community. Furthermore, I would propose that after his failure to take the lead for Genocide Commemoration Week, Mayor Dave Weaver lost a majority of the Armenian-American votes. Thus, Weaver was likely voted into office solely on non-Armenian votes. If true, this shows tribalism on two fronts.
I believe the message here is that we need to be aware of our own tribalism. Self-awareness is the first step to erasing imaginary lines and breaking down the walls we've created. The suggestion that there was an anti-Armenian sentiment heading into these elections is not meant to be a racist remark. The suggestion is based on real and actual events throughout the last two years. Mailers linking Armenians to terrorism targeted to non-Armenian male voters (the tribalism there is undeniable), letters in the News-Press making unsubstantiated claims that Armenian-Americans commit a disproportionate amount of crime, a slew of e-mails against a proposed Armenian high school, backlash against multilingual ballots (produced by an Armenian-American city clerk), etc. Although some of these discussions are based on issues, they undeniably show that ethnic background still plays a significant role in community politics and relations in Glendale. It is on us to move beyond this.
I second Azadian's wishes. I congratulate those who were elected and have high hopes they will work to unite this community rather than using the divide-and-conquer method for the sake of their own political aspirations.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tidbits...
Tidbit #1: So, I'm sure you all know that I'm not a huge baseball fan. Nevertheless, its a little exciting that baseball season has started...
I love seeing all the Red Sox fans out and about. I ride into Kenmore everyday then out past the Fenway stop (though most fans get on/off at Kenmore, some also wait at the Fenway stop) and on gamedays, there is such a buzz in the station. Groups of excited fans decked out in their gear - young old short tall skinny fat... Its cute to see the little boys going to their first game or the girls with their braided hair and excessive glitter. This week I saw an old granny with her Red Sox shirt and earrings. And when the Sox win, the T is filled with super excited drunks! lol.
Of course, I have to admit that I sometimes get a little frustrated when I'm exhausted and trying to get home. The influx of fans makes the commute a little less comfy (just imagine the hundreds of fans packed like sardines in the trains!).
But its still fun. Can't wait to go to a game... I mean, not that I care for the game but they do sell Guinness at fenway (they have a great selection of beers actually). And fenway franks? yum. Its just great to be around diehard fans. Unlike the LA bandwagon syndrome, the people here are Red Sox all the way and I love that sort of passion and loyalty.
Tidbit #2: I bumped into my roomie (Sarah) today on my way home from school. She was buying chocolates for work (or so she says...). I get so giddy when I bump into people I know on the street. I don't know why. I bumped into Sarah at the post office once. And I bumped into Angela at the BU Pub long long ago. I really don't know how to explain it. I guess its because in Glendale you're used to seeing someone you know EVERYWHERE you go. Post office, grocery store, mall, gas station, Glenoaks... lol. I know everyone complains about it - including me. I hate looking like a wreck and bumping into someone at Ralphs. But the truth is, its kinda nice to know everyone in your community and bumping into my roomies (and occasionally my classmates) outside of set functions (or school) is kinda fun.
My first month in Boston, I bumped into Misha, an old friend/senate colleague from Cal. I had last seen him at Has's graduation in May of 05. As Lev, Armen and myself were walking around government center trying to find our way to (I guess Quincy?), I stopped at a bus stop to look at the map. There were two guys there also looking at the map and I recognized one of their voices - I turned around and it was none other than Misha himself (beard and all). I'm sure I've told this story before but I just can't get over it. It totally made the world feel a little bit smaller - and more cozy :).
Anyway, I THINK thats it for tidbits. Actually, I'm sure its not - there was something else I wanted to write but I can't remember now so oh well....
I love seeing all the Red Sox fans out and about. I ride into Kenmore everyday then out past the Fenway stop (though most fans get on/off at Kenmore, some also wait at the Fenway stop) and on gamedays, there is such a buzz in the station. Groups of excited fans decked out in their gear - young old short tall skinny fat... Its cute to see the little boys going to their first game or the girls with their braided hair and excessive glitter. This week I saw an old granny with her Red Sox shirt and earrings. And when the Sox win, the T is filled with super excited drunks! lol.
Of course, I have to admit that I sometimes get a little frustrated when I'm exhausted and trying to get home. The influx of fans makes the commute a little less comfy (just imagine the hundreds of fans packed like sardines in the trains!).
But its still fun. Can't wait to go to a game... I mean, not that I care for the game but they do sell Guinness at fenway (they have a great selection of beers actually). And fenway franks? yum. Its just great to be around diehard fans. Unlike the LA bandwagon syndrome, the people here are Red Sox all the way and I love that sort of passion and loyalty.
Tidbit #2: I bumped into my roomie (Sarah) today on my way home from school. She was buying chocolates for work (or so she says...). I get so giddy when I bump into people I know on the street. I don't know why. I bumped into Sarah at the post office once. And I bumped into Angela at the BU Pub long long ago. I really don't know how to explain it. I guess its because in Glendale you're used to seeing someone you know EVERYWHERE you go. Post office, grocery store, mall, gas station, Glenoaks... lol. I know everyone complains about it - including me. I hate looking like a wreck and bumping into someone at Ralphs. But the truth is, its kinda nice to know everyone in your community and bumping into my roomies (and occasionally my classmates) outside of set functions (or school) is kinda fun.
My first month in Boston, I bumped into Misha, an old friend/senate colleague from Cal. I had last seen him at Has's graduation in May of 05. As Lev, Armen and myself were walking around government center trying to find our way to (I guess Quincy?), I stopped at a bus stop to look at the map. There were two guys there also looking at the map and I recognized one of their voices - I turned around and it was none other than Misha himself (beard and all). I'm sure I've told this story before but I just can't get over it. It totally made the world feel a little bit smaller - and more cozy :).
Anyway, I THINK thats it for tidbits. Actually, I'm sure its not - there was something else I wanted to write but I can't remember now so oh well....
Re: Patrick's column
Patrick wrote a column suggesting that "tribalism" affected elections. As you can imagine, he was attacked as being racist... practically labeled crazy and/or stupid. Of course, part of this backlash was perhaps due to the title (which i'm sure some people didn't even get beyond). But the backlash is absurd. ANYONE who thinks there is no such thing as "tribalism during elections" is A MORON. Its the same reason we are sitting here today debating whether a black man can win the presidency. If there was no such thing as tribalism, "black man" would never be a factor to debate. Heck, "woman" wouldn't even come into play. Silly silly people...
My response (which prob won't get published since I'm not a resident)(second parenthesis - I gave the GNP readers and "Glendale" far too much credit when I said we're on the brink of moving beyond it - i just didn't want people to interpret my letter as being hateful so I had to soften it up):
In his column, Azadian suggested that a certain amount of “tribalism” might have played a role in the recent elections. In typical fashion, readers responded with a knee jerk reaction attacking Azadian’s theory.
The unfortunate truth, however, is that tribalism exists. The exact manner in which tribalism works and effects elections is not a hard science. But the notion of bloc voting and voting based on race or last names is nothing new or unique to Glendale. Perhaps those who were so quick to reject Azadian’s comments should take a course on politics or even sociology.
I don’t believe Azadian means to suggest an absolute theory. There are always exceptions, and sometimes more than just a few exceptions. Not everyone votes based on last names, just as not every man votes against a woman and not every white man votes against a black man. In fact, many of those who are so vocal in the Glendale News Press are those who are most aware of the issues and perhaps least prone to “tribal” voting.
The message here is not that candidates always win or lose solely based on their ethnicity. Indeed, Manoukian would never have been elected in the first place without support from all Glendalians. But the numbers suggest that Manoukian lost the support of only one segment of the community. Conversely, I would propose that after his failure to take the lead for Genocide Commemoration Week, Weaver lost a majority of the Armenian – American votes. Thus, Weaver was likely voted into office solely on “non-Armenian” votes. This shows tribalism on two fronts.
The message here is that we need to be aware of our own tribalism. Self awareness is the first step to erasing imaginary lines and breaking down the walls we’ve created. The suggestion that there was an “anti-Armenian” sentiment heading into these elections is not meant to be a racist remark. The suggestion is based on real and actual events throughout the last two years. Mailers linking Armenians to terrorism targeted to non-Armenian male voters (the tribalism there is undeniable), constant letters in the News Press making unsubstantiated claims that Armenian – Americans commit a disproportionate amount of crime, a slew of emails against a proposed Armenian high school, backlash against multilingual ballots (produced by an Armenian – American city clerk) etc. Although some of these discussions are based on issues, they undeniably show that ethnic background still plays a significant role in community politics and relations in Glendale. It is on us to move beyond this.
Every community in the United States has gone through its share of “tribal” elections and community tensions before fully accepting the beauty of the diversity. Glendale seems to be on the brink of putting race behind it. Today, I second Azadian’s wishes. I congratulate those who were elected and have high hopes they will work to unite this community rather than using the divide and conquer method for the sake of their own political aspirations.
My response (which prob won't get published since I'm not a resident)(second parenthesis - I gave the GNP readers and "Glendale" far too much credit when I said we're on the brink of moving beyond it - i just didn't want people to interpret my letter as being hateful so I had to soften it up):
In his column, Azadian suggested that a certain amount of “tribalism” might have played a role in the recent elections. In typical fashion, readers responded with a knee jerk reaction attacking Azadian’s theory.
The unfortunate truth, however, is that tribalism exists. The exact manner in which tribalism works and effects elections is not a hard science. But the notion of bloc voting and voting based on race or last names is nothing new or unique to Glendale. Perhaps those who were so quick to reject Azadian’s comments should take a course on politics or even sociology.
I don’t believe Azadian means to suggest an absolute theory. There are always exceptions, and sometimes more than just a few exceptions. Not everyone votes based on last names, just as not every man votes against a woman and not every white man votes against a black man. In fact, many of those who are so vocal in the Glendale News Press are those who are most aware of the issues and perhaps least prone to “tribal” voting.
The message here is not that candidates always win or lose solely based on their ethnicity. Indeed, Manoukian would never have been elected in the first place without support from all Glendalians. But the numbers suggest that Manoukian lost the support of only one segment of the community. Conversely, I would propose that after his failure to take the lead for Genocide Commemoration Week, Weaver lost a majority of the Armenian – American votes. Thus, Weaver was likely voted into office solely on “non-Armenian” votes. This shows tribalism on two fronts.
The message here is that we need to be aware of our own tribalism. Self awareness is the first step to erasing imaginary lines and breaking down the walls we’ve created. The suggestion that there was an “anti-Armenian” sentiment heading into these elections is not meant to be a racist remark. The suggestion is based on real and actual events throughout the last two years. Mailers linking Armenians to terrorism targeted to non-Armenian male voters (the tribalism there is undeniable), constant letters in the News Press making unsubstantiated claims that Armenian – Americans commit a disproportionate amount of crime, a slew of emails against a proposed Armenian high school, backlash against multilingual ballots (produced by an Armenian – American city clerk) etc. Although some of these discussions are based on issues, they undeniably show that ethnic background still plays a significant role in community politics and relations in Glendale. It is on us to move beyond this.
Every community in the United States has gone through its share of “tribal” elections and community tensions before fully accepting the beauty of the diversity. Glendale seems to be on the brink of putting race behind it. Today, I second Azadian’s wishes. I congratulate those who were elected and have high hopes they will work to unite this community rather than using the divide and conquer method for the sake of their own political aspirations.
Friday, April 06, 2007
sad day
i'm sitting here in class going through my usual emails and i received one from Dave.
For some reason, I had a bad feeling. The email just had a link with a line saying no explanation was necessary.
http://www.polisci.berkeley.edu/
NelsonW. Polsby, my undergraduate thesis advisor, passed away in February.
A few months ago I had emailed him just to see how he was. I never got a reply. I had a bad feeling but just shrugged it off hoping it was just because he was busy. I really had no other reason to believe anything worse.
I feel horrible for not knowing.
I had so much respect for this man - just read his CV - its impossible not to admire him.
But aside from his resume, he really had an impact in my life. I don't know what initially led me to sign up for his Poli Sci grad course. When I did sign up, I had to get him to agree to have me in his class or else the department wouldn't approve it. So, I went to see him during office hours a few days after the first day of class. He was very blunt. "I don't think you can keep up with this course."
Of course, I have an ego. Telling me I can't do something usually makes me want it more. "I think I can. I want to try!"
"Have you even looked at the syllabus? This course is demanding and requires a lot of reading."
I refused to admit to him that the 1-2 book a week (required + a book or two suggested) reading was a little intimidating. Instead, I told him I had noticed but didn't feel it was a problem.
He didn't believe me. He sent me off to the IGS library to look at the various books he had assigned. He wanted me to understand that these weren't simple novels I could fly through - and he wanted to make sure I felt comfortable with the material.
Well, I picked up one book, read the first 3 pages and returned to his office to let him know I wanted to be on board. And so, he signed me on to the first part of his two semester course. Whether I was allowed to continue would depend on my first semester performance.
In the meantime, he also agreed to be my thesis advisor. It wasn't an area he really had an exertise in but the faculty-teacher ration at Berkeley made it very difficult to find a professor. Not only were there 0-1 profs who'd really know anything about my topic (and the 1 that did was not in the country at the time - in fact, I believe he was stuck in Iran), but all the profs in general had already signed on to be advisors and didn't want more students. As a transfer student, I hadn't had the advantage of having 3 years to build a relationship with my professors. I had only been at Berkeley for 1 year and 1 year was not enough for me to really bond with any prof. So, I was screwed... until Nelson agreed.
The semester went on. I must admit - I wasn't always on top of it. Each week, one (or two) people were assigned to start the class discussion. Sometimes we'd stay on topic and other times I remember conversation going so off track - and Nelson was okay with that. He wanted us to think, discuss, analyze, argue. Every other week, we had to submit a 5 page paper - but it was nothing formal - just a sort of "reflection" on the reading.
I was understandably intimidated. I was a young senior in a class full of PhD students/candidates (though a few only went as far as their masters). So, I was quite timid when it came to speaking up in class and Nelson was always on my case for that, "DONT ASK to make a comment or ask a question - JUST SAY IT!" And when I'd go to visit him, he'd always encourage me to speak more and discuss more.
As for my papers - he was usually satisfied/happy with them. The first time I received negative remarks, we talked it over in office hours. He found out I had been in LA that weekend - and so from then on he decided he didn't like me going to LA - he'd joke that going to LA made me less of a thinker (less "smart").
When I'd tell him about law school - he'd roll his eyes a little. For him, the only acceptable law school was Yale. I think he viewed the rest as technical schools. But either way, he encouraged me to continue on with my education and wrote me several letters of recomendation along the way.
At the end of the first semester, I met with him again. I needed him to give me a grade for the course (most students received one grade for the entire year so the semester grade was reported as "in progress"). He refused. He wanted me to stay on for the second semester. I told him that I had too great of a course load. He offered to let me use my thesis as the semester's "paper" (all other students spent the entire second semester working on a paper). He kept telling me to at least think about it but I just couldn't say no - he was pretty set on having me stay. And so I did. (21 units my 2nd semester of my senior year - whereas all my friends were taking 13!).
Honestly, there wasn't much more I had to do second semester so I guess it was 4 free units. I just had to be in class and discuss - and eventually present my thesis.
And that was that. I haven't really returned to Berkeley. I really couldn't wait to go back. It's my own fault. Instead of going on my own I waited for someone (in particular) to make the trip with me. And when he didn't come, I sorta just put it off figuring, well, i'll go later I guess.
Now I won't ever get to go back to his office to hang out with him... no more afternoon tea. He was one of those huggable grandfather types. Sometimes he'd fall asleep in class. Sometimes he'd get angry (in a more disappointed way)... but most of the time he was a sweet and easy going man.
Nelson, you will be missed.
For some reason, I had a bad feeling. The email just had a link with a line saying no explanation was necessary.
http://www.polisci.berkeley.edu/
NelsonW. Polsby, my undergraduate thesis advisor, passed away in February.
A few months ago I had emailed him just to see how he was. I never got a reply. I had a bad feeling but just shrugged it off hoping it was just because he was busy. I really had no other reason to believe anything worse.
I feel horrible for not knowing.
I had so much respect for this man - just read his CV - its impossible not to admire him.
But aside from his resume, he really had an impact in my life. I don't know what initially led me to sign up for his Poli Sci grad course. When I did sign up, I had to get him to agree to have me in his class or else the department wouldn't approve it. So, I went to see him during office hours a few days after the first day of class. He was very blunt. "I don't think you can keep up with this course."
Of course, I have an ego. Telling me I can't do something usually makes me want it more. "I think I can. I want to try!"
"Have you even looked at the syllabus? This course is demanding and requires a lot of reading."
I refused to admit to him that the 1-2 book a week (required + a book or two suggested) reading was a little intimidating. Instead, I told him I had noticed but didn't feel it was a problem.
He didn't believe me. He sent me off to the IGS library to look at the various books he had assigned. He wanted me to understand that these weren't simple novels I could fly through - and he wanted to make sure I felt comfortable with the material.
Well, I picked up one book, read the first 3 pages and returned to his office to let him know I wanted to be on board. And so, he signed me on to the first part of his two semester course. Whether I was allowed to continue would depend on my first semester performance.
In the meantime, he also agreed to be my thesis advisor. It wasn't an area he really had an exertise in but the faculty-teacher ration at Berkeley made it very difficult to find a professor. Not only were there 0-1 profs who'd really know anything about my topic (and the 1 that did was not in the country at the time - in fact, I believe he was stuck in Iran), but all the profs in general had already signed on to be advisors and didn't want more students. As a transfer student, I hadn't had the advantage of having 3 years to build a relationship with my professors. I had only been at Berkeley for 1 year and 1 year was not enough for me to really bond with any prof. So, I was screwed... until Nelson agreed.
The semester went on. I must admit - I wasn't always on top of it. Each week, one (or two) people were assigned to start the class discussion. Sometimes we'd stay on topic and other times I remember conversation going so off track - and Nelson was okay with that. He wanted us to think, discuss, analyze, argue. Every other week, we had to submit a 5 page paper - but it was nothing formal - just a sort of "reflection" on the reading.
I was understandably intimidated. I was a young senior in a class full of PhD students/candidates (though a few only went as far as their masters). So, I was quite timid when it came to speaking up in class and Nelson was always on my case for that, "DONT ASK to make a comment or ask a question - JUST SAY IT!" And when I'd go to visit him, he'd always encourage me to speak more and discuss more.
As for my papers - he was usually satisfied/happy with them. The first time I received negative remarks, we talked it over in office hours. He found out I had been in LA that weekend - and so from then on he decided he didn't like me going to LA - he'd joke that going to LA made me less of a thinker (less "smart").
When I'd tell him about law school - he'd roll his eyes a little. For him, the only acceptable law school was Yale. I think he viewed the rest as technical schools. But either way, he encouraged me to continue on with my education and wrote me several letters of recomendation along the way.
At the end of the first semester, I met with him again. I needed him to give me a grade for the course (most students received one grade for the entire year so the semester grade was reported as "in progress"). He refused. He wanted me to stay on for the second semester. I told him that I had too great of a course load. He offered to let me use my thesis as the semester's "paper" (all other students spent the entire second semester working on a paper). He kept telling me to at least think about it but I just couldn't say no - he was pretty set on having me stay. And so I did. (21 units my 2nd semester of my senior year - whereas all my friends were taking 13!).
Honestly, there wasn't much more I had to do second semester so I guess it was 4 free units. I just had to be in class and discuss - and eventually present my thesis.
And that was that. I haven't really returned to Berkeley. I really couldn't wait to go back. It's my own fault. Instead of going on my own I waited for someone (in particular) to make the trip with me. And when he didn't come, I sorta just put it off figuring, well, i'll go later I guess.
Now I won't ever get to go back to his office to hang out with him... no more afternoon tea. He was one of those huggable grandfather types. Sometimes he'd fall asleep in class. Sometimes he'd get angry (in a more disappointed way)... but most of the time he was a sweet and easy going man.
Nelson, you will be missed.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Damn the T
I know I said I hate the "T" - and, I know I sometimes change my mind and say, despite its annoyingness, its great because its better than driving.
Well last night, I was hating the T!
I started heading home - sometime before 12:30. I caught the last B train to Kenmore square where I had to switch to the D line. As I got off at Kenmore, I realized the D train was at the platform so I made a mad dash for it but unfortunately, it left before I got there. Bummer.
It was around 12:35 or so. I was a little nervous. I know the last trains usually leave at 12:30 (from Park St). But, I figured there HAD to be another train or else someone would close off the station (as they had already closed off the inbound side). So, I decided I'd wait.
A C train came. Then a B. Then another C. That only gave me more hope - since all those trains were coming, there had to be one more D! Another girl was waiting for the D and some guy waiting for the B so I waited too.
A part of me really wanted to catch a cab but I figured, "Murphy's Law" - as soon as I get up the stairs, I'll hear the train come through. And, I've waited this long - how much longer could it take? If the train comes every 10 minutes or so - even if its late - its bound to be there soon... right?
So we waited. and waited. A man (construction worker for MBTA) walked over to us and asked which line we were waiting for. We told him the D - he said they had had some train problems but the D would be here in a few minutes. Some other kids came to wait for the B. They gave up after awhile and decided to leave but when they got up to the top of the stairs - one of them swore he heard the train so they all ran downstairs. No train. THey went back up. A minute later they were back down. Again, they decided to wait. After a few minutes of waiting, they left again.
The girl and I were obviously frustrated at this point. She was headed to Riverside and had a $40 cab ride if the T didn't come... I, on the other hand, would probably only have a $10 - $15 cab ride - and, I DID for once have cash on me so it wouldn't have been a problem. But again, after waiting this long, I thought - why leave now? If i was going to get a cab, I should have done that 40 min ago.
A few more minutes. Okay, I can do a few more minutes.
Wait. Wait. Wait. At this point, the girl and I had lost our minds. We kept hearing a train coming - and still, no train came. I went upstairs to call the MBTA... no answer. Instead I called the MBTA police and they put me on hold.
Suddenly I heard the other girl call from downstairs - "THE TRAIN IS HERE!" - Are you sure? "Yes!" Is it the D? (there was still some guy waiting for the B) "YES! Most definitely!" - I ran downstairs just as the B train came rolling in. Gr. The guy got on and laughed at us...
I went back upstairs - still on hold with the police and finally, just as the police got back on the phone to say, "The D line should be coming in the station right now," I heard the train pull in.
It was 1:43. No joke.
We got on the train - absolutely excited - heck, I was about to kiss the T! (Okay, not really - we all know what a bad decision that would have been). We sat down and started joking around with everyone on the train (apparently, we'd been waiting at Kenmore since 12:30 and they'd actually been sitting on the train since about that time - if not earlier). One train had broken down and they had taken apart this train to create a B train and D train (with one car each). Gr!
Of course, our excitement was short lived as we realized, we weren't leaving the Kenmore station. For what felt like another hour, we sat there staring at the open doors wishing we could just be on our way home.
Finally, around 1:48 or so, the train pulled out. We were finally heading home.
I was thankful that I only had 4 stops to go. Some people had to go to the end of the line which meant they wouldn't be home for awhile. As soon as we got out of the Kenmore station- everyone who'd been on the train underground the whole time quickly picked up their phones to call people saying, "you won't believe this... we just left Kenmore"
Honestly, I was miserable. I should have been home by 12:50 or so - instead, I was home a little past 2. That's absurd. The sign in Kenmore says last outbound train leaves at 12:50. NOT 1:50 am!
what a night. (I should have gotten some reading done that whole time but i was exhausted and cold and frustrated all in one - not in a productive mood.)
Well last night, I was hating the T!
I started heading home - sometime before 12:30. I caught the last B train to Kenmore square where I had to switch to the D line. As I got off at Kenmore, I realized the D train was at the platform so I made a mad dash for it but unfortunately, it left before I got there. Bummer.
It was around 12:35 or so. I was a little nervous. I know the last trains usually leave at 12:30 (from Park St). But, I figured there HAD to be another train or else someone would close off the station (as they had already closed off the inbound side). So, I decided I'd wait.
A C train came. Then a B. Then another C. That only gave me more hope - since all those trains were coming, there had to be one more D! Another girl was waiting for the D and some guy waiting for the B so I waited too.
A part of me really wanted to catch a cab but I figured, "Murphy's Law" - as soon as I get up the stairs, I'll hear the train come through. And, I've waited this long - how much longer could it take? If the train comes every 10 minutes or so - even if its late - its bound to be there soon... right?
So we waited. and waited. A man (construction worker for MBTA) walked over to us and asked which line we were waiting for. We told him the D - he said they had had some train problems but the D would be here in a few minutes. Some other kids came to wait for the B. They gave up after awhile and decided to leave but when they got up to the top of the stairs - one of them swore he heard the train so they all ran downstairs. No train. THey went back up. A minute later they were back down. Again, they decided to wait. After a few minutes of waiting, they left again.
The girl and I were obviously frustrated at this point. She was headed to Riverside and had a $40 cab ride if the T didn't come... I, on the other hand, would probably only have a $10 - $15 cab ride - and, I DID for once have cash on me so it wouldn't have been a problem. But again, after waiting this long, I thought - why leave now? If i was going to get a cab, I should have done that 40 min ago.
A few more minutes. Okay, I can do a few more minutes.
Wait. Wait. Wait. At this point, the girl and I had lost our minds. We kept hearing a train coming - and still, no train came. I went upstairs to call the MBTA... no answer. Instead I called the MBTA police and they put me on hold.
Suddenly I heard the other girl call from downstairs - "THE TRAIN IS HERE!" - Are you sure? "Yes!" Is it the D? (there was still some guy waiting for the B) "YES! Most definitely!" - I ran downstairs just as the B train came rolling in. Gr. The guy got on and laughed at us...
I went back upstairs - still on hold with the police and finally, just as the police got back on the phone to say, "The D line should be coming in the station right now," I heard the train pull in.
It was 1:43. No joke.
We got on the train - absolutely excited - heck, I was about to kiss the T! (Okay, not really - we all know what a bad decision that would have been). We sat down and started joking around with everyone on the train (apparently, we'd been waiting at Kenmore since 12:30 and they'd actually been sitting on the train since about that time - if not earlier). One train had broken down and they had taken apart this train to create a B train and D train (with one car each). Gr!
Of course, our excitement was short lived as we realized, we weren't leaving the Kenmore station. For what felt like another hour, we sat there staring at the open doors wishing we could just be on our way home.
Finally, around 1:48 or so, the train pulled out. We were finally heading home.
I was thankful that I only had 4 stops to go. Some people had to go to the end of the line which meant they wouldn't be home for awhile. As soon as we got out of the Kenmore station- everyone who'd been on the train underground the whole time quickly picked up their phones to call people saying, "you won't believe this... we just left Kenmore"
Honestly, I was miserable. I should have been home by 12:50 or so - instead, I was home a little past 2. That's absurd. The sign in Kenmore says last outbound train leaves at 12:50. NOT 1:50 am!
what a night. (I should have gotten some reading done that whole time but i was exhausted and cold and frustrated all in one - not in a productive mood.)
Friday, March 30, 2007
Flip Flop time!
No no, I'm not talking about those damn flip floppers. I'm talking about flip flops! I wore flip flops today! YAY!
Granted... I did do crazy things during winter -such as wearing flip flops on cold days - but this is the first time in months I've worn flip flops without worrying about losing my toes! I'm absolutely giddy. (it might hit 60 today!)
Spring is here. (Happy belated Norouz to those who celebrate it). I have never been so excited for Spring. I never really understood what the big deal was. Spring doesn't mean anything in Southern California. Spring is... when you change the clocks and lose an hour of sleep (Spring ahead...).
But after experiencing my first real winter, I get to experience my first real spring. And now, I GET IT. The days are getting longer, the weather is slowly warming up and it just seems like everything is coming back to life. People are back out on the lawn reading, napping, talking on their phones. The flowers in the yard are blooming... and pretty soon i'm sure the trees will be all green too.
Earlier this week, as I walked out of class, I noticed that people are back on the river. The Charles was frozen over for the last few months but now its flowing again and the crew and sailing teams are back out there in their boats. I don't think it's possible to look out at the river - with all the sailboats and their white sails - and not get happy.
I guess seasons give you something to look forward to. For now, I'm going to enjoy spring - light jackets, 50-60 degree temps, and pretty flowers! And I'm sure, come June, I will be eager for summer. And, after enduring a few weeks of heat and humidity, I will likely be ready for the fall - changing colors and cooler temperatures. And, once the leaves are all gone, I will eagerly await the first snow. How wonderful!
Granted... I did do crazy things during winter -such as wearing flip flops on cold days - but this is the first time in months I've worn flip flops without worrying about losing my toes! I'm absolutely giddy. (it might hit 60 today!)
Spring is here. (Happy belated Norouz to those who celebrate it). I have never been so excited for Spring. I never really understood what the big deal was. Spring doesn't mean anything in Southern California. Spring is... when you change the clocks and lose an hour of sleep (Spring ahead...).
But after experiencing my first real winter, I get to experience my first real spring. And now, I GET IT. The days are getting longer, the weather is slowly warming up and it just seems like everything is coming back to life. People are back out on the lawn reading, napping, talking on their phones. The flowers in the yard are blooming... and pretty soon i'm sure the trees will be all green too.
Earlier this week, as I walked out of class, I noticed that people are back on the river. The Charles was frozen over for the last few months but now its flowing again and the crew and sailing teams are back out there in their boats. I don't think it's possible to look out at the river - with all the sailboats and their white sails - and not get happy.
I guess seasons give you something to look forward to. For now, I'm going to enjoy spring - light jackets, 50-60 degree temps, and pretty flowers! And I'm sure, come June, I will be eager for summer. And, after enduring a few weeks of heat and humidity, I will likely be ready for the fall - changing colors and cooler temperatures. And, once the leaves are all gone, I will eagerly await the first snow. How wonderful!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
English as a requirement to vote
I know many of you (including a few in my top 8 - you know who you are) will be in disagreement with me over this but I'll share my views regardless.
The Glendale City Clerk recently issues the sample ballots for the upcoming elections. To the horror of many Glendale residents, the sample ballot was in 4 different languages!
I can only quantify this as a backlash against the immigrant population. I went through my days of, "damnit, if you live in the US, you must learn english!" - but, it was my own resentment of having to sit through spanish class. And now its a resentment of "minorities" "taking over" glendale. Even my Armenian friends who disagree with me on this mostly disagree because they hate walking around glendale and hearing everyone speaking armenian. So, before you attack my views, examine your disagreement - could it be founded on your own animosity towards a person? I've heard my armenian friends complain about some armo who didn't speak english but its often the rude assholes - not the really sweet lady (whether 35 or 65) who says, "I'm sorry dear. I don't speak english very well... can you please...." (its more like the "Ara, kuro, help me because i'm armenian and you have to" that draws criticism). Moreover, when we choose to deny a non-english speaker of their right to vote, we're doing so because we feel they do not deserve it... but, again, that is our own bias. that individual still pays taxes (unless they are a crook - which is a different story of course) and they are still affected by the same laws that govern us!
Anyway, back to the ballots. Whether you agree or disagree, california mandates that "elections materials" be provided in the language of the voters. So, wherever you stand on principle, its what we gotta do.
People have written statements such as:
"We our losing our identity as Americans. I want all people to have the right to be American citizens, but I want them to remember that they are citizens of the USA.
By allowing other languages to be represented on American voting ballots, we are telling people that you don't have to adhere to American policy. And that is not right.
Please, change the language to English to make sure we don't forget who we are."
WTF? Forgetting who we are? We are imposing McDonald's on every country in this world. I promise, no one is forgetting who we are. And btw, who are we?
"I do not think it is the responsibility of government to provide rudimentary instruction at the polls, on election day, for those who have failed to prepare themselves for this important civic responsibility."
Um, well then, next time i'm at a polling place and a 45 year old, fluent english speaking "American" asks, "wait, which box do i check? how does this work?" - i'll just respond with the above quote. (Actually, I almost agree with that - because if you can read the instructions in english and still don't get it, you have NO excuse!)
Anyway, below is my way too long response - don't worry - i'll be cutting it down eventually....
I have been a little dismayed with the recent slew of letters in the Glendale News Press denouncing Glendale's efforts to embrace its minority population and include them in the electoral process.
I, for one, commend Mr. Kassakhian for his efforts to include all U.S. citizens the opportunity to be an informed voter. But lest you think my opinion (as an Armenian – American) is biased, I'd like to point out a few facts.
We must all recognize the ideals on which this country was founded. You may recall, from grade school, the phrase, "No Taxation without Representation." I am not so naïve to believe that our founding fathers truly believed in a utopian democratic society, as these individuals were the same ones who maintained a cruel system of slavery for centuries and provided for the electoral collage. But regardless of their concept of equality, it is undeniable that this country was founded on the principle of representation.
Nearly a century after the founding of oldest democratic society, the concept of equality finally made its way into our constitution with the end of slavery and the addition of the 14th amendment which provided for the "equal protection" of the laws. And finally, nearly a century after that, the civil rights movement gained momentum as the Supreme Court of the United States brought an end to an era of Jim Crow laws, legal segregation and voter disenfranchisement.
I am not suggesting that the language barriers are necessarily equivalent to the Jim Crow laws of a century ago, but it does seem counterintuitive to retreat on the progress we have made as a democratic society. Those who do not speak English are governed by the same laws as those who are fluent. Are we advocating a return to taxation without representation?
Moreover, though the Constitution was written in English, the founders conspicuously omitted a language clause from the Constitution. This leads me to draw the conclusion that representation (for which they fought a war) was of greater concern than speaking English. Aside from facilitating communication, what other reason do we have to make a mandatory language requirement? If communication is the goal, then why are translations such a crime?
Regarding the U.S. citizenship test, it is important to note that the test does allow for translators based on certain criteria. Furthermore, the test asks questions such as, "What are the colors of our flag?" This quite different from, "The degree to which we can educate our children today will directly impact the future of our community…." I'm not sure how many native English speakers would be able to read a similar sentence in French, German or even Spanish (a language which many of us are familiar with). And, though we all have an opportunity to learn about candidates throughout their campaigns, many of us rely on the sample ballot to learn about more complicated ballot measures which we rarely hear about.
Of course, if this does not seem convincing enough, perhaps you'll be more convinced by California's own election standards. The California Voters Bill of Rights says, "You have the right to election materials in another language, if there are sufficient residents in your precinct to warrant production." The "Bill of Rights" goes on to state that any person who believes they have been denied one of these rights may call the "fraud or misconduct" hotline. Our City Clerk is doing his DUTY and saving our city from lawsuits. If you are in disagreement with the multilingual sample ballots, you should be complaining to the Secretary of State, Debra Bowen, rather than the Glendale News Press.
Lastly, there are countless individuals who not only speak English fluently but have also been voters their entire lives, yet they are still confused by the voting system. Unlike their non-English speaking neighbors, these individuals may turn around and ask a poll worker what to do. It is only fair to allow non-English speaking individuals, including those who have taken the time to educate themselves about the candidates, the right to ask questions at the polling place!
I am in agreement that learning English in today's world is essential because our world is increasingly becoming a global society with English as the common language. Those who do not learn English may find themselves at a loss. But, it is quite paternalistic for me to force someone to do what I believe is "best" for them. And, it is against our country's own ideals for us to advocate the denial of anyone's rights. Many of these voters did come from the former Soviet Union and Iran and are thus much more unaccustomed to and alienated by the election process. Shouldn't we welcome their desire to be a part of a democracy with open arms rather than slammed doors?
The Glendale City Clerk recently issues the sample ballots for the upcoming elections. To the horror of many Glendale residents, the sample ballot was in 4 different languages!
I can only quantify this as a backlash against the immigrant population. I went through my days of, "damnit, if you live in the US, you must learn english!" - but, it was my own resentment of having to sit through spanish class. And now its a resentment of "minorities" "taking over" glendale. Even my Armenian friends who disagree with me on this mostly disagree because they hate walking around glendale and hearing everyone speaking armenian. So, before you attack my views, examine your disagreement - could it be founded on your own animosity towards a person? I've heard my armenian friends complain about some armo who didn't speak english but its often the rude assholes - not the really sweet lady (whether 35 or 65) who says, "I'm sorry dear. I don't speak english very well... can you please...." (its more like the "Ara, kuro, help me because i'm armenian and you have to" that draws criticism). Moreover, when we choose to deny a non-english speaker of their right to vote, we're doing so because we feel they do not deserve it... but, again, that is our own bias. that individual still pays taxes (unless they are a crook - which is a different story of course) and they are still affected by the same laws that govern us!
Anyway, back to the ballots. Whether you agree or disagree, california mandates that "elections materials" be provided in the language of the voters. So, wherever you stand on principle, its what we gotta do.
People have written statements such as:
"We our losing our identity as Americans. I want all people to have the right to be American citizens, but I want them to remember that they are citizens of the USA.
By allowing other languages to be represented on American voting ballots, we are telling people that you don't have to adhere to American policy. And that is not right.
Please, change the language to English to make sure we don't forget who we are."
WTF? Forgetting who we are? We are imposing McDonald's on every country in this world. I promise, no one is forgetting who we are. And btw, who are we?
"I do not think it is the responsibility of government to provide rudimentary instruction at the polls, on election day, for those who have failed to prepare themselves for this important civic responsibility."
Um, well then, next time i'm at a polling place and a 45 year old, fluent english speaking "American" asks, "wait, which box do i check? how does this work?" - i'll just respond with the above quote. (Actually, I almost agree with that - because if you can read the instructions in english and still don't get it, you have NO excuse!)
Anyway, below is my way too long response - don't worry - i'll be cutting it down eventually....
I have been a little dismayed with the recent slew of letters in the Glendale News Press denouncing Glendale's efforts to embrace its minority population and include them in the electoral process.
I, for one, commend Mr. Kassakhian for his efforts to include all U.S. citizens the opportunity to be an informed voter. But lest you think my opinion (as an Armenian – American) is biased, I'd like to point out a few facts.
We must all recognize the ideals on which this country was founded. You may recall, from grade school, the phrase, "No Taxation without Representation." I am not so naïve to believe that our founding fathers truly believed in a utopian democratic society, as these individuals were the same ones who maintained a cruel system of slavery for centuries and provided for the electoral collage. But regardless of their concept of equality, it is undeniable that this country was founded on the principle of representation.
Nearly a century after the founding of oldest democratic society, the concept of equality finally made its way into our constitution with the end of slavery and the addition of the 14th amendment which provided for the "equal protection" of the laws. And finally, nearly a century after that, the civil rights movement gained momentum as the Supreme Court of the United States brought an end to an era of Jim Crow laws, legal segregation and voter disenfranchisement.
I am not suggesting that the language barriers are necessarily equivalent to the Jim Crow laws of a century ago, but it does seem counterintuitive to retreat on the progress we have made as a democratic society. Those who do not speak English are governed by the same laws as those who are fluent. Are we advocating a return to taxation without representation?
Moreover, though the Constitution was written in English, the founders conspicuously omitted a language clause from the Constitution. This leads me to draw the conclusion that representation (for which they fought a war) was of greater concern than speaking English. Aside from facilitating communication, what other reason do we have to make a mandatory language requirement? If communication is the goal, then why are translations such a crime?
Regarding the U.S. citizenship test, it is important to note that the test does allow for translators based on certain criteria. Furthermore, the test asks questions such as, "What are the colors of our flag?" This quite different from, "The degree to which we can educate our children today will directly impact the future of our community…." I'm not sure how many native English speakers would be able to read a similar sentence in French, German or even Spanish (a language which many of us are familiar with). And, though we all have an opportunity to learn about candidates throughout their campaigns, many of us rely on the sample ballot to learn about more complicated ballot measures which we rarely hear about.
Of course, if this does not seem convincing enough, perhaps you'll be more convinced by California's own election standards. The California Voters Bill of Rights says, "You have the right to election materials in another language, if there are sufficient residents in your precinct to warrant production." The "Bill of Rights" goes on to state that any person who believes they have been denied one of these rights may call the "fraud or misconduct" hotline. Our City Clerk is doing his DUTY and saving our city from lawsuits. If you are in disagreement with the multilingual sample ballots, you should be complaining to the Secretary of State, Debra Bowen, rather than the Glendale News Press.
Lastly, there are countless individuals who not only speak English fluently but have also been voters their entire lives, yet they are still confused by the voting system. Unlike their non-English speaking neighbors, these individuals may turn around and ask a poll worker what to do. It is only fair to allow non-English speaking individuals, including those who have taken the time to educate themselves about the candidates, the right to ask questions at the polling place!
I am in agreement that learning English in today's world is essential because our world is increasingly becoming a global society with English as the common language. Those who do not learn English may find themselves at a loss. But, it is quite paternalistic for me to force someone to do what I believe is "best" for them. And, it is against our country's own ideals for us to advocate the denial of anyone's rights. Many of these voters did come from the former Soviet Union and Iran and are thus much more unaccustomed to and alienated by the election process. Shouldn't we welcome their desire to be a part of a democracy with open arms rather than slammed doors?
Sunday, March 18, 2007
My first st. patty's in boston
So, yesterday was my first st. patty's in boston. first real st. patty's i guess. It was madness. We started out at a classmates house a little before 9:30 am (yes, AM). Of course we began drinking right away - on an empty stomach. In fact, I was playing flip cup while my bagel was getting toasted. We continued to drink and play while the crowd got bigger and bigger... and by 1 or 2 pm, we were finally ready to head out.
Unfortunately, it was a little too late. When we got into the city, it was madness. Crowds of people and lines everywhere. There was not a single bar without a MASSIVE line. A lotta bars were charging covers - some were a bit crazy (I heard some place was charging $30! - in boston! places here don't have cover and if they do its like $5). Anyway, it was just insane. We finally gave up on the idea of going to a bar and we headed to another friend's house. I think I drank some more at the house - i might have even tried to play beer pong but I couldn't see straight - not sure what I was thinking... and then I passed out for good. Well, for a few hours at least.
Woke up around 8 i think... ready for round two! (except, by this point in the day i looked like a crackhead - seriously - make up smudged and all). We grabbed some pizza then headed to a bar... once again, long lines and since no one was leaving, the lines weren't moving. We finally found one place (bar/club) that didn't have a line! And, best of all, they had two pretty good dj's spinning together (records, not cd's). Maybe I just thought they were good because I was drunk....
Anyway, the night ended with lots of dancing.
9am - 1am. What a St. Patty's day!
(I'm glad it's only once a year because my body would kill me if I tried to do that again anytime soon!)
Unfortunately, it was a little too late. When we got into the city, it was madness. Crowds of people and lines everywhere. There was not a single bar without a MASSIVE line. A lotta bars were charging covers - some were a bit crazy (I heard some place was charging $30! - in boston! places here don't have cover and if they do its like $5). Anyway, it was just insane. We finally gave up on the idea of going to a bar and we headed to another friend's house. I think I drank some more at the house - i might have even tried to play beer pong but I couldn't see straight - not sure what I was thinking... and then I passed out for good. Well, for a few hours at least.
Woke up around 8 i think... ready for round two! (except, by this point in the day i looked like a crackhead - seriously - make up smudged and all). We grabbed some pizza then headed to a bar... once again, long lines and since no one was leaving, the lines weren't moving. We finally found one place (bar/club) that didn't have a line! And, best of all, they had two pretty good dj's spinning together (records, not cd's). Maybe I just thought they were good because I was drunk....
Anyway, the night ended with lots of dancing.
9am - 1am. What a St. Patty's day!
(I'm glad it's only once a year because my body would kill me if I tried to do that again anytime soon!)
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Random Blogging
.... because i'm in.... yes, you guessed it, property.
Why do I never pay attention in property? Well, I walked into class today and this was written on the board:
"To Christina for her life, then to Haley and her heirs if Britney is bald one year from the time of effectiveness of this grant, and then to Jessica and her heirs if Britney is not bald one year from the time of effectiveness"
and
"To Christina for her life, then to Haley and her heirs, but if Britney is not bald one year from the time of effectiveness of this grant, then to Jessica and her heirs."
Do you sympathize?
Thanks
So. I had to do a little bit of shopping yesterday. I headed over to Downtown Crossing and as I was heading home (around 4 pm) I walked past Ballys and noticed the sign outside said, "-10 C"
For those who don't know what "-10 C" means, let me give you my "conversion" - "-10 C" = "ears falling off" (in human terms). Of course, thats about "14 F" for some. But, that wasn't taking into account the freezing cold wind.
BTW. When I say wind - I don't mean "cool wind" or "warm Santa Ana's" - I mean - 40 - 50 mph gusts of freezing (f*#$ing) cold WIND! Wind that finds its way through your layers into your hood and to your EARS.
The weather forecast has described this weeks temperatures as "very cold" "bitterly cold" and "FRIGID" - when have you read weather reports that say frigid?
Our overnight low was "2" with the "real feel" of "-25" (thats not celsius folks!)
Of course, I'm a silly Californian. As I left the house in the morning I thought - "Oooh, nice sunny day" (HAHAHA). I realized ten steps out the door that not grabbing gloves was a big mistake but I was late so I didn't turn back. Instead, I kept my hands in my pockets and hustled to the T.
After class, my friend asked me to help her carry some stuff from her car to school. We got to her car and I realized - hm... I have to carry a box which means, I can't stick my hands in my pockets... uh oh.
It was a 1 block walk from her car to campus - and honestly, I was scared to death that I wouldn't have fingers. I mean, I've said that before. I've told many people, "I took my gloves off and I thought I was going to lose my fingers" - but this was bad. This was no gloves for like 5 minutes. My fingers were burning and throbbing... then semi numb (in fact, I couldn't even grip the box anymore) and when I got into the building they went back to throbbing and burning - my fingertips were a funny color.
Moral of the story - CARRY GLOVES WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES! Five minutes felt like 30... it was just incredible... Bright, Sunny, Gorgeous - Fingers Falling Off - the two just don't seem to go together.
Anyway, I'll end my post with two fun quotes from school:
"Harvard, Harvard. Everyone is always talking about Harvard. Forget Harvard. We're at BU. Better. Thats what the B stands for. Better University." (Professor Maclin)
"I take it the proposition is that I should cancel class on Friday so you can all run off to Florida.... (some convo).... Done" .... "History suggests the Friday before break is not the time to do perpetuaties (sp?)" (Professor Lawson)
And Selmi... something along the lines of, "I was thinking of cancelling class but... (interrupted by applause from class)... okay." (Student... "what's the but") "Well, since there was such an enthusiastic response, no but."
Why do I never pay attention in property? Well, I walked into class today and this was written on the board:
"To Christina for her life, then to Haley and her heirs if Britney is bald one year from the time of effectiveness of this grant, and then to Jessica and her heirs if Britney is not bald one year from the time of effectiveness"
and
"To Christina for her life, then to Haley and her heirs, but if Britney is not bald one year from the time of effectiveness of this grant, then to Jessica and her heirs."
Do you sympathize?
Thanks
So. I had to do a little bit of shopping yesterday. I headed over to Downtown Crossing and as I was heading home (around 4 pm) I walked past Ballys and noticed the sign outside said, "-10 C"
For those who don't know what "-10 C" means, let me give you my "conversion" - "-10 C" = "ears falling off" (in human terms). Of course, thats about "14 F" for some. But, that wasn't taking into account the freezing cold wind.
BTW. When I say wind - I don't mean "cool wind" or "warm Santa Ana's" - I mean - 40 - 50 mph gusts of freezing (f*#$ing) cold WIND! Wind that finds its way through your layers into your hood and to your EARS.
The weather forecast has described this weeks temperatures as "very cold" "bitterly cold" and "FRIGID" - when have you read weather reports that say frigid?
Our overnight low was "2" with the "real feel" of "-25" (thats not celsius folks!)
Of course, I'm a silly Californian. As I left the house in the morning I thought - "Oooh, nice sunny day" (HAHAHA). I realized ten steps out the door that not grabbing gloves was a big mistake but I was late so I didn't turn back. Instead, I kept my hands in my pockets and hustled to the T.
After class, my friend asked me to help her carry some stuff from her car to school. We got to her car and I realized - hm... I have to carry a box which means, I can't stick my hands in my pockets... uh oh.
It was a 1 block walk from her car to campus - and honestly, I was scared to death that I wouldn't have fingers. I mean, I've said that before. I've told many people, "I took my gloves off and I thought I was going to lose my fingers" - but this was bad. This was no gloves for like 5 minutes. My fingers were burning and throbbing... then semi numb (in fact, I couldn't even grip the box anymore) and when I got into the building they went back to throbbing and burning - my fingertips were a funny color.
Moral of the story - CARRY GLOVES WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES! Five minutes felt like 30... it was just incredible... Bright, Sunny, Gorgeous - Fingers Falling Off - the two just don't seem to go together.
Anyway, I'll end my post with two fun quotes from school:
"Harvard, Harvard. Everyone is always talking about Harvard. Forget Harvard. We're at BU. Better. Thats what the B stands for. Better University." (Professor Maclin)
"I take it the proposition is that I should cancel class on Friday so you can all run off to Florida.... (some convo).... Done" .... "History suggests the Friday before break is not the time to do perpetuaties (sp?)" (Professor Lawson)
And Selmi... something along the lines of, "I was thinking of cancelling class but... (interrupted by applause from class)... okay." (Student... "what's the but") "Well, since there was such an enthusiastic response, no but."
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Change
On my T-ride home today, I was listening to Boston by Augustana. I really haven't listened to this song since last August/September. I sorta over played it back then and was pretty sick of it for a while.
Today as I listened to it, I remembered the thoughts that went through my head when I first heard it... i remember how I felt when I was getting ready to move... when I did move.
I remember in an old blog I wrote about how the song applied but noted that I wasn't necessarily tired of the weather - and snow would not be nice.
Today, as I listened, I looked out the window at the muddy remainders of snow from a week or two ago. You know, some snow was nice. It was different. It was a change.
I realized looking back how much things have changed, how much I've changed. I like to think I do a pretty good job of embracing change. I remember my first night in Boston - the momentary panic that sank in as I thought - oh my god, what have Its done this time!?!?! Lol. I was a bit scared, I'll admit it.
But it lasted for a day - maybe two - and then Boston was home. Things changed, I moved on.
So much has changed for me in the last 5 years. Heck, so much has changed for me since HS. I changed - I went through so many evolutions. I remember being 17/18 and loving the LA party life... or the little of it I experienced. My 5 year plan was set - I was going to graduate at 21, get my credentials by 22 and be a teacher by day, party queen by night. I worked pretty hard back then - didn't have this internet addition yet (that always seems to keep me from what I really want to be doing). My first summer in college was such a DRASTIC change from HS. I want from being a hermit to a social butterfly - a non-drinker to a drunk! I went from bad student to great student; uninvolved to overinvolved. Taken to single.
Then I moved away. I changed. All of a sudden, doing the club thing until i was 30 wasn't my cup of tea. Heck, I began to despise the LA "scene" - suddenly became a fan of beer and bars and "get togethers" at home... dropped the hoochie outfits (perhaps the transfer 30 had something to do with that) for jeans and sweaters.
So much change.
The biggest of course was from "white washed" to "fob" lol - it was more like - apathetic to very involved and concerned Armenian.
Every day at Berkeley felt like something new for me. I loved it. And its the reason I am who I am today - the good, the bad - all of it. Who would I be if I wasn't writing letters to the Glendale News Press every other day? hehe.
Returning to Glendale was more change - but it felt like stagnant change. I went from crazy bars to low key lounges. I went from social to hermit. I went from involved to uninvolved.
And then Boston.
There's just so much. Its not just me, its the world around me. A different bedroom, a different bed, different house, street, friends, school, world, perspective....
perspective.
change can be good or bad. change is not synonymous with improvement. Going from social drinker to beligerent drunk was not "improvement" - but it was change.
But change is growth. Change is perspective.
This all seems like a given right? We all change. Everything changes. The world changes.
But I'm not sure it really is a given. I am constantly amazed at how many people fight change. I know, change is scary - scary as hell - but if you never take that step, where does that lead you?
The world is not as you see it. THe world is never how you see it. You have to see the world through a billion different experiences before you can even pretend to understand it - and even then perhaps you can't.
TO change is to evolve - and evolution is how we've become who we have. If you fight change, you fight your own evolution and you stay who you are... who you have been...
Maybe you like who you are... maybe you have no desire to change that person or the world that person lives in.
But I wish everyone would give change a chance - not just a new haircut or a new outfit - something different... something that scares you.
I dwell on the past a lot - the past was fun. I had some good times, good laughs, scary times, sad times. I'm happy about the past and I like reminiscing - but its not because I don't appreciate the present of believe in the future. I dream about the future constantly. And I try to appreciate the present every second of the day. I walk down the street everyday and say to myself... "I am not in Glendale" - its invigorating just to think about it. I look at the houses that I have now become so accustomed to seeing I could easily ignore them - but I don't. I stop and I look and think... damnit, I love this - its DIFFERENT... its change. The streets, the T, the lifestyle... its freakin Boston!
See, I know that change is constant - and I've made sure to enjoy all of it - because in the blink of an eye - I might not be in Boston anymore - I might be back in LA or god knows where... either way - I won't always walk down this street to Clark Rd (where I live) and I won't always get to walk up three flights of wooden stairs to my bedroom in the back. Someday this too will change - for better or worse, who knows (hopefully better) but I make sure not to take any of it for granted.
I'm ready for more change. There are changes ahead of me that scare the shit out of me right now... but I'm okay with that. I'll learn, I'll grow. I'm sure I'll screw up... but oh well. But thats all okay......
Today as I listened to it, I remembered the thoughts that went through my head when I first heard it... i remember how I felt when I was getting ready to move... when I did move.
I remember in an old blog I wrote about how the song applied but noted that I wasn't necessarily tired of the weather - and snow would not be nice.
Today, as I listened, I looked out the window at the muddy remainders of snow from a week or two ago. You know, some snow was nice. It was different. It was a change.
I realized looking back how much things have changed, how much I've changed. I like to think I do a pretty good job of embracing change. I remember my first night in Boston - the momentary panic that sank in as I thought - oh my god, what have Its done this time!?!?! Lol. I was a bit scared, I'll admit it.
But it lasted for a day - maybe two - and then Boston was home. Things changed, I moved on.
So much has changed for me in the last 5 years. Heck, so much has changed for me since HS. I changed - I went through so many evolutions. I remember being 17/18 and loving the LA party life... or the little of it I experienced. My 5 year plan was set - I was going to graduate at 21, get my credentials by 22 and be a teacher by day, party queen by night. I worked pretty hard back then - didn't have this internet addition yet (that always seems to keep me from what I really want to be doing). My first summer in college was such a DRASTIC change from HS. I want from being a hermit to a social butterfly - a non-drinker to a drunk! I went from bad student to great student; uninvolved to overinvolved. Taken to single.
Then I moved away. I changed. All of a sudden, doing the club thing until i was 30 wasn't my cup of tea. Heck, I began to despise the LA "scene" - suddenly became a fan of beer and bars and "get togethers" at home... dropped the hoochie outfits (perhaps the transfer 30 had something to do with that) for jeans and sweaters.
So much change.
The biggest of course was from "white washed" to "fob" lol - it was more like - apathetic to very involved and concerned Armenian.
Every day at Berkeley felt like something new for me. I loved it. And its the reason I am who I am today - the good, the bad - all of it. Who would I be if I wasn't writing letters to the Glendale News Press every other day? hehe.
Returning to Glendale was more change - but it felt like stagnant change. I went from crazy bars to low key lounges. I went from social to hermit. I went from involved to uninvolved.
And then Boston.
There's just so much. Its not just me, its the world around me. A different bedroom, a different bed, different house, street, friends, school, world, perspective....
perspective.
change can be good or bad. change is not synonymous with improvement. Going from social drinker to beligerent drunk was not "improvement" - but it was change.
But change is growth. Change is perspective.
This all seems like a given right? We all change. Everything changes. The world changes.
But I'm not sure it really is a given. I am constantly amazed at how many people fight change. I know, change is scary - scary as hell - but if you never take that step, where does that lead you?
The world is not as you see it. THe world is never how you see it. You have to see the world through a billion different experiences before you can even pretend to understand it - and even then perhaps you can't.
TO change is to evolve - and evolution is how we've become who we have. If you fight change, you fight your own evolution and you stay who you are... who you have been...
Maybe you like who you are... maybe you have no desire to change that person or the world that person lives in.
But I wish everyone would give change a chance - not just a new haircut or a new outfit - something different... something that scares you.
I dwell on the past a lot - the past was fun. I had some good times, good laughs, scary times, sad times. I'm happy about the past and I like reminiscing - but its not because I don't appreciate the present of believe in the future. I dream about the future constantly. And I try to appreciate the present every second of the day. I walk down the street everyday and say to myself... "I am not in Glendale" - its invigorating just to think about it. I look at the houses that I have now become so accustomed to seeing I could easily ignore them - but I don't. I stop and I look and think... damnit, I love this - its DIFFERENT... its change. The streets, the T, the lifestyle... its freakin Boston!
See, I know that change is constant - and I've made sure to enjoy all of it - because in the blink of an eye - I might not be in Boston anymore - I might be back in LA or god knows where... either way - I won't always walk down this street to Clark Rd (where I live) and I won't always get to walk up three flights of wooden stairs to my bedroom in the back. Someday this too will change - for better or worse, who knows (hopefully better) but I make sure not to take any of it for granted.
I'm ready for more change. There are changes ahead of me that scare the shit out of me right now... but I'm okay with that. I'll learn, I'll grow. I'm sure I'll screw up... but oh well. But thats all okay......
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Homesick for Shalakho
(Fun clips at the end and if you don't comment on the scissor kick dude at the end, I'll be very sad)
After two years of working in the Armenian community, I was almost a bit relieved my first month here. It felt like this pressure had been lifted. I am not sure how to really explain it but for once I didn't have to worry about who was running for what seat, who was saying something racist, what events were going on, what events were conflicting, what events I had to attend vs. what events I wanted to attend.
I finally had this clean calendar. Nothing.
For awhile, it was great. But now, I'm craving some of that stuf. I'm not craving all of it - I mean, if I had to go to one more banquet/gala where Larry Zarian or Mark Geragos were hosting (using the same jokes as the billion other events they hosted), I really was going to strangle myself. At one event, me and the person sitting next to me joked around about how it was almost like a deja vu. Same people at the same tables, same speeches, same catering (Rubina? lol), same decor.... ugh, redundant.
Def. don't miss that.
But I really miss the other stuff. I miss Sidebar - particularly Wednesdays at Sidebar. It was always someone - Gor, Element, (I missed Hooshere - damnit). Starting in the Spring - Fall there is a Harout dinner dance practically every weekend. And if not Harout, at least there's a DJ. There are movie screenings, talks, gatherings.... *sigh*
And, what I miss even more than those things in Glendale is the community in Berkeley. I was browsing some old pictures/videos and found one where Tiko and Nareg are singing something (can't remember) in Armenian... and Has and I are dancing. It was just what we did. Not always but often. I remember one night at Armen's house - it might have been the weekend of the Bazaar - (the other Nareg was visiting) and he just put on some music and boy were we dancing our butts off.
That's not something we did much in LA. Wait no, we never did that in LA. See, in LA everyone is "too cool" to be Armenian. So, they miss out on the crazy vodka inspired Armenian dancing. Oh well.
So, as I was walking home one day I had a sudden urge to listen to some Armo music. I mean, I listen to Armenian music regularly (again, Gor, Element, Alla, Arto, Hooshere and Zulal) but this time, I put on Sako's dance party mix. HAHAHA. He is def not one of the OG greats but its all I had on my iPod. I really had to resist the urge to break out dancing on the train platform in Kenmore.
Then, I got home and was facebook stalking and saw that my friend Allen had posted a youtube video of people dancing the Shalakho. So, I thought I'd introduce the non-Glendalians and non-Armenians to the Shalakho.
Its not a very difficult dance. I can't exactly type out the steps but just take my word for it. The catch is that the music speeds up... ya, Zorba style. Now, typically, the musicians play and speed up a bit at a time - depending on the crowd of course - and then stop when the crowd gets too thin. People are often quick to drop out - especially older people (not always true of course - young people are sometimes too drunk to keep up as well).
But most often, you have the two diehards who dance it out till the end. And, with me... well I don't just dance it out to the end, I make sure to tell the band to keep going. So, between dancing around in circles like a monkey and hopping up and down, I'm usually giving the band hand signals to SPEED UP!!!
(It's usually a bad idea since as soon as the song is over I collapse in a very unladylike manner - and spend about 10 minutes just trying to breathe normally).
Below are some clips. One is a dance group doing the dance... its not too fast but its fun. Another is me and my friend at her bday - note the crowd slowly step out- (I look like a fool but I was also quite drunk so don't laugh! oh ya, it was taken on a cell phone so while its great quality for a phone its actually pretty bad quality/sound) and third is this old Armenian guy doing scissor kicks like a 16 year old cheerleader and russian kicks like no other. If you've ever tried the russian style squat kick thing... you know how difficult it is.
*WARNING: If you haven't heard Armenian music before, we like loud instruments which, to the untrained ear, sound like the most obnoxious thing in the world. Thats just how we are folks. Loud and obnoxious.
After two years of working in the Armenian community, I was almost a bit relieved my first month here. It felt like this pressure had been lifted. I am not sure how to really explain it but for once I didn't have to worry about who was running for what seat, who was saying something racist, what events were going on, what events were conflicting, what events I had to attend vs. what events I wanted to attend.
I finally had this clean calendar. Nothing.
For awhile, it was great. But now, I'm craving some of that stuf. I'm not craving all of it - I mean, if I had to go to one more banquet/gala where Larry Zarian or Mark Geragos were hosting (using the same jokes as the billion other events they hosted), I really was going to strangle myself. At one event, me and the person sitting next to me joked around about how it was almost like a deja vu. Same people at the same tables, same speeches, same catering (Rubina? lol), same decor.... ugh, redundant.
Def. don't miss that.
But I really miss the other stuff. I miss Sidebar - particularly Wednesdays at Sidebar. It was always someone - Gor, Element, (I missed Hooshere - damnit). Starting in the Spring - Fall there is a Harout dinner dance practically every weekend. And if not Harout, at least there's a DJ. There are movie screenings, talks, gatherings.... *sigh*
And, what I miss even more than those things in Glendale is the community in Berkeley. I was browsing some old pictures/videos and found one where Tiko and Nareg are singing something (can't remember) in Armenian... and Has and I are dancing. It was just what we did. Not always but often. I remember one night at Armen's house - it might have been the weekend of the Bazaar - (the other Nareg was visiting) and he just put on some music and boy were we dancing our butts off.
That's not something we did much in LA. Wait no, we never did that in LA. See, in LA everyone is "too cool" to be Armenian. So, they miss out on the crazy vodka inspired Armenian dancing. Oh well.
So, as I was walking home one day I had a sudden urge to listen to some Armo music. I mean, I listen to Armenian music regularly (again, Gor, Element, Alla, Arto, Hooshere and Zulal) but this time, I put on Sako's dance party mix. HAHAHA. He is def not one of the OG greats but its all I had on my iPod. I really had to resist the urge to break out dancing on the train platform in Kenmore.
Then, I got home and was facebook stalking and saw that my friend Allen had posted a youtube video of people dancing the Shalakho. So, I thought I'd introduce the non-Glendalians and non-Armenians to the Shalakho.
Its not a very difficult dance. I can't exactly type out the steps but just take my word for it. The catch is that the music speeds up... ya, Zorba style. Now, typically, the musicians play and speed up a bit at a time - depending on the crowd of course - and then stop when the crowd gets too thin. People are often quick to drop out - especially older people (not always true of course - young people are sometimes too drunk to keep up as well).
But most often, you have the two diehards who dance it out till the end. And, with me... well I don't just dance it out to the end, I make sure to tell the band to keep going. So, between dancing around in circles like a monkey and hopping up and down, I'm usually giving the band hand signals to SPEED UP!!!
(It's usually a bad idea since as soon as the song is over I collapse in a very unladylike manner - and spend about 10 minutes just trying to breathe normally).
Below are some clips. One is a dance group doing the dance... its not too fast but its fun. Another is me and my friend at her bday - note the crowd slowly step out- (I look like a fool but I was also quite drunk so don't laugh! oh ya, it was taken on a cell phone so while its great quality for a phone its actually pretty bad quality/sound) and third is this old Armenian guy doing scissor kicks like a 16 year old cheerleader and russian kicks like no other. If you've ever tried the russian style squat kick thing... you know how difficult it is.
*WARNING: If you haven't heard Armenian music before, we like loud instruments which, to the untrained ear, sound like the most obnoxious thing in the world. Thats just how we are folks. Loud and obnoxious.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
bits of news
1. DYP Protests Google search results for "Armenian Genocide"
The True Path Party (DYP) has launched a campaign against Internet search giant Google regarding Armenian "genocide" claims. The campaign, mounted by the youth branch of the DYP, draws attention the first 100 pages returned by Google when "Armenian genocide" is typed in the search box. All results are Web sites that claim the veracity of the "genocide." According to the members of the youth branch, all the Web sites were made by Armenians. Google lists Web sites according to the number of people who go to the sites. The way to put Web sites explaining the Turkish version of the events to higher places on the search results is to click them once every day, the youth branch stressed: "The easiest way to do this is to make those Web sites our homepage."
2: Armenia passes dual citizenship...
Armenia seeks to boost population
..>..>
View of Yerevan with Mt Ararat
Armenia's struggling economy needs support from the diaspora
Armenia's parliament has passed a dual nationality bill which allows the granting of citizenship to emigres in the huge Armenian diaspora.
Armenia has a population of 3.2 million but the diaspora is estimated to be some eight million. Many of them live in Russia, France, Iran and the US.
Ethnic Armenians who speak Armenian would benefit, as would foreigners married to an Armenian.
The diaspora's remittances are crucial for Armenia's economy.
Armenians backed dual citizenship in a November 2005 referendum. It abolished a clause in the constitution which barred dual nationality.
The Armenian diaspora is 2,000 years old, but its size increased dramatically after the mass killings of Armenians by Ottoman Turks from 1915 to 1917.
According to the National Bank of Armenia, remittances from the diaspora are double the size of the country's budget.
Armenia is a small landlocked country. It still has bitter disputes with its neighbours Turkey and Azerbaijan. The influence of Russia - formerly Armenia's colonial master - remains strong.
The True Path Party (DYP) has launched a campaign against Internet search giant Google regarding Armenian "genocide" claims. The campaign, mounted by the youth branch of the DYP, draws attention the first 100 pages returned by Google when "Armenian genocide" is typed in the search box. All results are Web sites that claim the veracity of the "genocide." According to the members of the youth branch, all the Web sites were made by Armenians. Google lists Web sites according to the number of people who go to the sites. The way to put Web sites explaining the Turkish version of the events to higher places on the search results is to click them once every day, the youth branch stressed: "The easiest way to do this is to make those Web sites our homepage."
2: Armenia passes dual citizenship...
Armenia seeks to boost population
..>..>
View of Yerevan with Mt Ararat
Armenia's struggling economy needs support from the diaspora
Armenia's parliament has passed a dual nationality bill which allows the granting of citizenship to emigres in the huge Armenian diaspora.
Armenia has a population of 3.2 million but the diaspora is estimated to be some eight million. Many of them live in Russia, France, Iran and the US.
Ethnic Armenians who speak Armenian would benefit, as would foreigners married to an Armenian.
The diaspora's remittances are crucial for Armenia's economy.
Armenians backed dual citizenship in a November 2005 referendum. It abolished a clause in the constitution which barred dual nationality.
The Armenian diaspora is 2,000 years old, but its size increased dramatically after the mass killings of Armenians by Ottoman Turks from 1915 to 1917.
According to the National Bank of Armenia, remittances from the diaspora are double the size of the country's budget.
Armenia is a small landlocked country. It still has bitter disputes with its neighbours Turkey and Azerbaijan. The influence of Russia - formerly Armenia's colonial master - remains strong.
Cal builds its athletic reputation....
Cal ranked 1st in Fall Director's Cup....
Looks like we beat out all your SoCal favs... though UCLA did come close. Sorry guys. Maybe next year?
http://calbears.cstv.com/genrel/011107aac.html
Looks like we beat out all your SoCal favs... though UCLA did come close. Sorry guys. Maybe next year?
http://calbears.cstv.com/genrel/011107aac.html
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
What? You mean, I'm supposed to park in between the white lines?
The level of stupidity in this world never ceases to amaze me. And, it seems to all be concentrated in Glendale. Or maybe it's just that the GNP takes pride in airing our city's stupidity... (you'd think they'd want to make the city look smart rather than dumb).
Thankfully, the columnists wrote some decent columns last week - or maybe I say that because I'm partial to the Beatles (which Mr. Kimber wrote about - no idea how that ties into education but...) and Ani wrote a halfway decent column about Father Movsessian.
But, then I flip to the opinion pages. Ugh! Remember how I posted that in America, we need someone to tell us something before we realize it's wrong!?!?! So, Ms. Ann Marie Smith (which I hope is not a psuedonym for a person I know with a very similar name.... because THAT woman I like!)... vents to the GNP for getting a parking ticket. Initially, I was intrigued. I hate parking tickets as much as everyone else. Especially those really senseless ones (as in, why on earth can't I park here?!?!)
But Ms. Smith goes on to complain about getting tickets for parking crooked. I hope all idiots who can't park between two white lines get fined!!! You don't need "a sign" telling you to park between the white lines. And yes, it sucks when the person next to you is parked crooked but maybe if the police enforce this continuously and uniformly, people "next to you" won't park crooked. (Not to mention, if you park crooked next to a crooked parked car, then if the crooked parked car leaves, YOU ARE STILL CROOKED - and therefore, you are now the problem car in the lot!)
I am sure Ms. Smith is frustrated because she was forced to park crooked. And, I will even give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she herself is not a bad parker and would have parked straight had the cars next to her parked straight... and that I can, then, understand her frustration. But next time she writes a letter, she should avoid statements like:
"There are no signs clearly posted to state that you must park perfectly between the lines or get a ticket."
I keep rereading that - I don't know if I should laugh or cry. All I know is that as annoying as the "T" (public transport) in Boston might be, I am grateful for not having to deal with all the crooked parking idiots of this world!
City needs to back off petty parking tickets
I feel it is petty, wasteful and harassing to give tickets at city parking garages for cars not being perfectly aligned in the lined stalls — especially when others have parked slightly crooked and the only open space is crooked.
There are no signs clearly posted to state that you must park perfectly between the lines or get a ticket.
Why should I park in the city garage to risk a $35 parking ticket?
What would the area businesses do if many people abandon shopping in this area because of this ridiculous harassment?
The city garages are the only one I know of with this type of petty enforcement.
The city should either post visible signs at each stall to warn patrons of the ticketing policy. Or it should just be decent and let people support the Exchange and Brand Boulevard businesses without this burden.
ANN MARIE SMITH
Glendale
Thankfully, the columnists wrote some decent columns last week - or maybe I say that because I'm partial to the Beatles (which Mr. Kimber wrote about - no idea how that ties into education but...) and Ani wrote a halfway decent column about Father Movsessian.
But, then I flip to the opinion pages. Ugh! Remember how I posted that in America, we need someone to tell us something before we realize it's wrong!?!?! So, Ms. Ann Marie Smith (which I hope is not a psuedonym for a person I know with a very similar name.... because THAT woman I like!)... vents to the GNP for getting a parking ticket. Initially, I was intrigued. I hate parking tickets as much as everyone else. Especially those really senseless ones (as in, why on earth can't I park here?!?!)
But Ms. Smith goes on to complain about getting tickets for parking crooked. I hope all idiots who can't park between two white lines get fined!!! You don't need "a sign" telling you to park between the white lines. And yes, it sucks when the person next to you is parked crooked but maybe if the police enforce this continuously and uniformly, people "next to you" won't park crooked. (Not to mention, if you park crooked next to a crooked parked car, then if the crooked parked car leaves, YOU ARE STILL CROOKED - and therefore, you are now the problem car in the lot!)
I am sure Ms. Smith is frustrated because she was forced to park crooked. And, I will even give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she herself is not a bad parker and would have parked straight had the cars next to her parked straight... and that I can, then, understand her frustration. But next time she writes a letter, she should avoid statements like:
"There are no signs clearly posted to state that you must park perfectly between the lines or get a ticket."
I keep rereading that - I don't know if I should laugh or cry. All I know is that as annoying as the "T" (public transport) in Boston might be, I am grateful for not having to deal with all the crooked parking idiots of this world!
City needs to back off petty parking tickets
I feel it is petty, wasteful and harassing to give tickets at city parking garages for cars not being perfectly aligned in the lined stalls — especially when others have parked slightly crooked and the only open space is crooked.
There are no signs clearly posted to state that you must park perfectly between the lines or get a ticket.
Why should I park in the city garage to risk a $35 parking ticket?
What would the area businesses do if many people abandon shopping in this area because of this ridiculous harassment?
The city garages are the only one I know of with this type of petty enforcement.
The city should either post visible signs at each stall to warn patrons of the ticketing policy. Or it should just be decent and let people support the Exchange and Brand Boulevard businesses without this burden.
ANN MARIE SMITH
Glendale
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Two in a row
because blogging is more fun than revising my appellate brief.
So, I finally rolled up my shades today to let some light into my room (my windows are horrible so the last few days I pulled the shades down to help keep the draft out).
I absolutely ADORE looking out my window at the snow covered rooftops. And just now, as I was contemplating writing a second blog, it started to snow. It looks like there are tiny white dust particles floating through the air. Its lovely.
Now, what's not lovely is that ice i've been complaining about for the last few days. I mean, it's not necessarily the black ice that sucks. Everyone keeps warning me about the ice you can't see - yada yada. But, it's the ice I CAN SEE that's the problem.
See, you can usually spot the black ice if you're paying attention - and if you're not, you can just assume that it's slippery and walk carefully.
But when you're on the snow... you can't tell which parts of the snow are solid slippery ice and which parts are just icey (the kind you can step on and it crunches a bit). And so, you relax for a few steps thinking - hey, its the crunchy stuff - and then all of a sudden... you slip.
And yes, I did finally eat it. I was crossing the street at Harvard Square on my way to the Arto concert and as I stepped onto the sidewalk, my legs flew back and I hit the pavement - sorta on my hip. I was covered in ice and mud - ew! Thankfully, my legs slipped back instead of forward because had I fallen the other way, my head would have hit the pavement in the middle of the intersection - and Bostonians aren't the calm collected "Oh look there's a head in the road maybe i should stop" type of drivers.
I will always associate that fine university (that my children are going to graduate from) with my first ice fall. Aw :)
So, I finally rolled up my shades today to let some light into my room (my windows are horrible so the last few days I pulled the shades down to help keep the draft out).
I absolutely ADORE looking out my window at the snow covered rooftops. And just now, as I was contemplating writing a second blog, it started to snow. It looks like there are tiny white dust particles floating through the air. Its lovely.
Now, what's not lovely is that ice i've been complaining about for the last few days. I mean, it's not necessarily the black ice that sucks. Everyone keeps warning me about the ice you can't see - yada yada. But, it's the ice I CAN SEE that's the problem.
See, you can usually spot the black ice if you're paying attention - and if you're not, you can just assume that it's slippery and walk carefully.
But when you're on the snow... you can't tell which parts of the snow are solid slippery ice and which parts are just icey (the kind you can step on and it crunches a bit). And so, you relax for a few steps thinking - hey, its the crunchy stuff - and then all of a sudden... you slip.
And yes, I did finally eat it. I was crossing the street at Harvard Square on my way to the Arto concert and as I stepped onto the sidewalk, my legs flew back and I hit the pavement - sorta on my hip. I was covered in ice and mud - ew! Thankfully, my legs slipped back instead of forward because had I fallen the other way, my head would have hit the pavement in the middle of the intersection - and Bostonians aren't the calm collected "Oh look there's a head in the road maybe i should stop" type of drivers.
I will always associate that fine university (that my children are going to graduate from) with my first ice fall. Aw :)
Tips?
So, I'm trying this new "category" thing with my blogs.
Most of them are pretty self explanatory. Most of them overlap. If you think I need a new category or if I should move something, feel free to let me know.
Most of them are pretty self explanatory. Most of them overlap. If you think I need a new category or if I should move something, feel free to let me know.
Glendale Elections = Fun Times
I woke up at 8 am today. That's just disgusting. Not only is it Sunday - its a 3-day weekend sunday. What on earth was i thinking? (It was the alcohol from last night doing the thinking - not me!)
I was very excited to find out that I am still loved in Glendale. The one thing I hate about Boston is being anonymous. But fortunately, Glendalians are keeping my "memory" alive...
You see, there is a crazy woman running for school board and her name is Naira Khachatrian (sp?). Though I've never met her in person (I don't think), I did have the pleasure of speaking to her on the phone when she called me one day - here is an abbreviated transcript:
N: I saw you on television last night and you said you were the proud product of public schools. How could you be proud? Our public schools suck. They keep our children back! If you had received a good education, you would have been able to go to a good college such as UC Berkeley. You know, my son is very smart - he got into Berkeley.
Me: It's funny you should say that because I DID go to Berkeley. Who is your son btw? I knew many of the Armenians on campus.
N: Oh, my son didn't go to Berkeley for various reasons - he went to (I believe she said CSULA). And you DID NOT go to Berkeley. Don't try to fool me! You could have never gotten into Berkeley. Do you know what sort of GPA you need to get into Berkeley? My son is very smart. What was your GPA? And you are too young to have graduated from Berkeley!
Me: Well, I transferred to Berkeley. My GPA was XXX. And I did graduate from Berkeley last spring.
N: Liar. You did not. How old are you? How could you? Do you know UNIVERSITIES are FOUR YEAR schools not TWO YEAR schools? Do you realize Berkeley is a FOUR YEAR school? That means you must be 22 when you finish. They don't allow you to finish in less time than that. And Berkeley doesn't take transfers.
I finally gave up and said, "You must be right. I would not know anything about Berkeley or the UC system. I am an idiot. Thank you for educating me on the failure of our public school system. But if you ever have a free moment, please drop by the office and take a look at my degree - perhaps you can tell me what school I graduated from. Have a nice day." (Click).
Well, I guess this woman is still hung up on our little conversation because apparently she attacked me on TV a few weeks ago. Awwww! Isn't that sweet? I'm not even IN the city and she's using me for her politicking. I love it!
The unfortunate part is that I heard about this through someone else and actually have no idea what she did say - I'd LOVE to find out so if you happen to watch Armenian TV and see a crazy lady talking about me... drop me a note!
(When I told my mom this story she said - "Hey, they say there is no such thing as bad publicity." Lol. I must agree. As long as she feels the need to bring up my name in conversation, I must be doing something right! ....well, unless I'm a crack addict or something)
I was very excited to find out that I am still loved in Glendale. The one thing I hate about Boston is being anonymous. But fortunately, Glendalians are keeping my "memory" alive...
You see, there is a crazy woman running for school board and her name is Naira Khachatrian (sp?). Though I've never met her in person (I don't think), I did have the pleasure of speaking to her on the phone when she called me one day - here is an abbreviated transcript:
N: I saw you on television last night and you said you were the proud product of public schools. How could you be proud? Our public schools suck. They keep our children back! If you had received a good education, you would have been able to go to a good college such as UC Berkeley. You know, my son is very smart - he got into Berkeley.
Me: It's funny you should say that because I DID go to Berkeley. Who is your son btw? I knew many of the Armenians on campus.
N: Oh, my son didn't go to Berkeley for various reasons - he went to (I believe she said CSULA). And you DID NOT go to Berkeley. Don't try to fool me! You could have never gotten into Berkeley. Do you know what sort of GPA you need to get into Berkeley? My son is very smart. What was your GPA? And you are too young to have graduated from Berkeley!
Me: Well, I transferred to Berkeley. My GPA was XXX. And I did graduate from Berkeley last spring.
N: Liar. You did not. How old are you? How could you? Do you know UNIVERSITIES are FOUR YEAR schools not TWO YEAR schools? Do you realize Berkeley is a FOUR YEAR school? That means you must be 22 when you finish. They don't allow you to finish in less time than that. And Berkeley doesn't take transfers.
I finally gave up and said, "You must be right. I would not know anything about Berkeley or the UC system. I am an idiot. Thank you for educating me on the failure of our public school system. But if you ever have a free moment, please drop by the office and take a look at my degree - perhaps you can tell me what school I graduated from. Have a nice day." (Click).
Well, I guess this woman is still hung up on our little conversation because apparently she attacked me on TV a few weeks ago. Awwww! Isn't that sweet? I'm not even IN the city and she's using me for her politicking. I love it!
The unfortunate part is that I heard about this through someone else and actually have no idea what she did say - I'd LOVE to find out so if you happen to watch Armenian TV and see a crazy lady talking about me... drop me a note!
(When I told my mom this story she said - "Hey, they say there is no such thing as bad publicity." Lol. I must agree. As long as she feels the need to bring up my name in conversation, I must be doing something right! ....well, unless I'm a crack addict or something)
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Who the Hell is Arto
So, I posted (elsewhere) that Arto is going to be in Cambridge, MA tomorrow night and that I am absolutely ecstatic about seeing him again... and sure enough, people asked... "Who is Arto?"
My Response.... oh, and a blog about the weather... again :)
.....
Who the hell is Arto?
Ugh... C'mon people... Arto and the ANB - you must have heard me blabbing about these guys for weeks after my trip in 05.
Ararat video
ANB Myspace Fanpage
BBC World Music nomination
Official site of Arto (I can't spell his LN)
Okay. That should be enough FYI right. I must say - i had no idea he's 50. wow. (And befor you all critique my musical taste... yes, he has a voice thats "interesting" but when you hear them live with the entire band, its awesome - and the words are great!)
So, now that that's out of the way....
Okay, the snow novelty thing... ya, almost (but not quite yet) over it.
It snowed on Tuesday night. I mean, this was more "real" than the last time i said it "really" snowed. We got a few inches - nothing like the 100 inches in upstate NY but... a few. Decent. Cars were covered. Etc.
As I was walking to school, I realized that walking on the snow is a bit like walking on the sand at the beach (except at the beach you are rarely wearing 10 layers and carrying heavy books). Man, what a work out. Lift, step, lift, step.... climb over the snow banks that the snow plows left at the sides of the road. Then there were the occasional puddles where the salt and shoveling had caused the snow to melt... I was pretty good at avoiding most of those. In a few places, the snow was complete slush - muddy slush to be exact. But I still wasn't bothered much. Hey, its a new experience right?
About two blocks away from school I passed by an old lady - perhaps my grandmother's age or a few years younger. She was obviously homeless - hunched over, wearing several layers and a beat up old sneaker on one foot (a plastic bag on the other). Here I was bundled up in my warm cozy boots and jeans and sweater and jacket - and here was this poor woman hobbling through the snow. And, though I feel bad when I see a homeless man, I think seeing a homeless woman is just that much worse. Yes, I'm sexist! After I passed her, I seriously was about to break into tears so I found a single in my wallet and walked back towards her and offered it to her. She initially looked at me and said, "Oh dear, you don't have to do that." She paused for a moment but when I didn't withdraw my offer, she responded, "But I'll take it and buy myself a cup of hot tea! God bless you." Aww.... it broke my heart. She was nice. Its so unfortunate that people end up homeless but it's even more unfortunate when its freezing cold and snowing outside. I hope she found somewhere warm and cozy to spend the rest of her day.
Anyway, I finally got to school, sat through my endless day of classes and at 2 pm - hallelujah - i was ready to go home... except one problem....
I got down to the lobby and started chatting with some classmates as I put on my jacket/scarf/gloves/ear muffs. Outside, the "snow" had turned into a giant mess... it was raining, snowing and hailing all at once... go figure (damn indecisive weather). The "puddles" had turned into "rivers." And, gosh darnit.... I hadn't thought to grab an umbrella! Just as I thought the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, one classmate mentioned, "Oh, by the way, the green line is down"
WHAT????
what do you mean "DOWN?" One guy sat down on the couch. "What are you doing? You're going to stay here?" "Well, you heard him Alina, the green line is down...." Oh no... it was Vday - I had a pie to bake (and eventually destroy) and stuff to do. I was not about to be stuck at school! I called MBTA. Sure enough, the wire had cut, the green line wasn't operating but they had a shuttle service instead. I bundled up and headed out.
As I came to cross the street, I learned the first lesson of this mixed awful weather. The "snow" is not always safe. You see, as I began to cross the street I had 2 options - 1. walk through the puddle or 2. step on the muddy snow - though it might be slushy, at least its not a puddle.
I went with 2.
Eh. Wrong answer.
2 was a giant puddle - larger than puddle #1 - but covered, misleadingly, with some muddy snow making it look like a snow pile. In I went shin deep - and no, I didn't have rainboots on.
I scrambled onto a bus headed to Kenmore station where I change over to a different train (D line). And then, I started my .3 mile walk home.... up the slippy, slushy, icy hill and then.... across another street. As I stood there trying to calculate the depth of the puddles and where I should cross the street, another young lady approached, looked both ways and just walked on through. Thats when I realized Lesson #2 - sometimes, there's really no "better" way to go - just suck it up and do it. At this point, the streets were literally flooded... silly of me to think I could find a dry path across the street. Waddle across I did.
The rest of the walk home was okay. The snow was half melted half ice... I felt like I was hiking - but with my feet sliding across each other. In my bundled mess (imagine my medusa hair from the rain and a scarf wrapped around my head and face and two hoods - one from my sweater, one from my jacket... ya, real cute) some guy stepped aside to let me pass and as I did he said, "You are very beautiful" - HAH! Lesson #3... Crack impairs your judgment.So, I made it home. No falls. No broken bones. Just some cold wet feet. A short while after I got home, my two roomies came home - much earlier than usual. Apparently, the school was shut down at 3pm - classes cancelled, libraries closed, employees sent home. (My last class ended at 2pm - damnit!)
Today, was another adventure. The "water/ice/snow/slush/mud" had turned into...ice. And all the foot prints of people climbing through the snow had sorta frozen (in places where it wasn't shoveled). Shoveled places were even worse because the shoveling had left a thin layer of water leaving an even slicker layer of ice. So, this time, it was like an obstacle course - hike through the frozen snow (sometimes big balls of snow serve as boulders to help liven up your morning commute)... be sure to dodge the puddles, avoid the ice when possible and when not.... walk very slowly. Oh! Don't forget those snow banks from yesterday - ya, its like a mini wall of snow you get to climb over... except its a slippery wall and a slippery ground. good luck. And give up on traditional heel-toe walking... stomping works better.
(Then I decided it'd be a great idea to cross the foot bridge to get a picture of the snow covered Charles. Uh, it was kinda like trying to go up a newly waxed floor in rollerblades... yes I held the railing with two hands and went up sideways and went down backwards. don't ask)
My Response.... oh, and a blog about the weather... again :)
.....
Who the hell is Arto?
Ugh... C'mon people... Arto and the ANB - you must have heard me blabbing about these guys for weeks after my trip in 05.
Ararat video
ANB Myspace Fanpage
BBC World Music nomination
Official site of Arto (I can't spell his LN)
Okay. That should be enough FYI right. I must say - i had no idea he's 50. wow. (And befor you all critique my musical taste... yes, he has a voice thats "interesting" but when you hear them live with the entire band, its awesome - and the words are great!)
So, now that that's out of the way....
Okay, the snow novelty thing... ya, almost (but not quite yet) over it.
It snowed on Tuesday night. I mean, this was more "real" than the last time i said it "really" snowed. We got a few inches - nothing like the 100 inches in upstate NY but... a few. Decent. Cars were covered. Etc.
As I was walking to school, I realized that walking on the snow is a bit like walking on the sand at the beach (except at the beach you are rarely wearing 10 layers and carrying heavy books). Man, what a work out. Lift, step, lift, step.... climb over the snow banks that the snow plows left at the sides of the road. Then there were the occasional puddles where the salt and shoveling had caused the snow to melt... I was pretty good at avoiding most of those. In a few places, the snow was complete slush - muddy slush to be exact. But I still wasn't bothered much. Hey, its a new experience right?
About two blocks away from school I passed by an old lady - perhaps my grandmother's age or a few years younger. She was obviously homeless - hunched over, wearing several layers and a beat up old sneaker on one foot (a plastic bag on the other). Here I was bundled up in my warm cozy boots and jeans and sweater and jacket - and here was this poor woman hobbling through the snow. And, though I feel bad when I see a homeless man, I think seeing a homeless woman is just that much worse. Yes, I'm sexist! After I passed her, I seriously was about to break into tears so I found a single in my wallet and walked back towards her and offered it to her. She initially looked at me and said, "Oh dear, you don't have to do that." She paused for a moment but when I didn't withdraw my offer, she responded, "But I'll take it and buy myself a cup of hot tea! God bless you." Aww.... it broke my heart. She was nice. Its so unfortunate that people end up homeless but it's even more unfortunate when its freezing cold and snowing outside. I hope she found somewhere warm and cozy to spend the rest of her day.
Anyway, I finally got to school, sat through my endless day of classes and at 2 pm - hallelujah - i was ready to go home... except one problem....
I got down to the lobby and started chatting with some classmates as I put on my jacket/scarf/gloves/ear muffs. Outside, the "snow" had turned into a giant mess... it was raining, snowing and hailing all at once... go figure (damn indecisive weather). The "puddles" had turned into "rivers." And, gosh darnit.... I hadn't thought to grab an umbrella! Just as I thought the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, one classmate mentioned, "Oh, by the way, the green line is down"
WHAT????
what do you mean "DOWN?" One guy sat down on the couch. "What are you doing? You're going to stay here?" "Well, you heard him Alina, the green line is down...." Oh no... it was Vday - I had a pie to bake (and eventually destroy) and stuff to do. I was not about to be stuck at school! I called MBTA. Sure enough, the wire had cut, the green line wasn't operating but they had a shuttle service instead. I bundled up and headed out.
As I came to cross the street, I learned the first lesson of this mixed awful weather. The "snow" is not always safe. You see, as I began to cross the street I had 2 options - 1. walk through the puddle or 2. step on the muddy snow - though it might be slushy, at least its not a puddle.
I went with 2.
Eh. Wrong answer.
2 was a giant puddle - larger than puddle #1 - but covered, misleadingly, with some muddy snow making it look like a snow pile. In I went shin deep - and no, I didn't have rainboots on.
I scrambled onto a bus headed to Kenmore station where I change over to a different train (D line). And then, I started my .3 mile walk home.... up the slippy, slushy, icy hill and then.... across another street. As I stood there trying to calculate the depth of the puddles and where I should cross the street, another young lady approached, looked both ways and just walked on through. Thats when I realized Lesson #2 - sometimes, there's really no "better" way to go - just suck it up and do it. At this point, the streets were literally flooded... silly of me to think I could find a dry path across the street. Waddle across I did.
The rest of the walk home was okay. The snow was half melted half ice... I felt like I was hiking - but with my feet sliding across each other. In my bundled mess (imagine my medusa hair from the rain and a scarf wrapped around my head and face and two hoods - one from my sweater, one from my jacket... ya, real cute) some guy stepped aside to let me pass and as I did he said, "You are very beautiful" - HAH! Lesson #3... Crack impairs your judgment.So, I made it home. No falls. No broken bones. Just some cold wet feet. A short while after I got home, my two roomies came home - much earlier than usual. Apparently, the school was shut down at 3pm - classes cancelled, libraries closed, employees sent home. (My last class ended at 2pm - damnit!)
Today, was another adventure. The "water/ice/snow/slush/mud" had turned into...ice. And all the foot prints of people climbing through the snow had sorta frozen (in places where it wasn't shoveled). Shoveled places were even worse because the shoveling had left a thin layer of water leaving an even slicker layer of ice. So, this time, it was like an obstacle course - hike through the frozen snow (sometimes big balls of snow serve as boulders to help liven up your morning commute)... be sure to dodge the puddles, avoid the ice when possible and when not.... walk very slowly. Oh! Don't forget those snow banks from yesterday - ya, its like a mini wall of snow you get to climb over... except its a slippery wall and a slippery ground. good luck. And give up on traditional heel-toe walking... stomping works better.
(Then I decided it'd be a great idea to cross the foot bridge to get a picture of the snow covered Charles. Uh, it was kinda like trying to go up a newly waxed floor in rollerblades... yes I held the railing with two hands and went up sideways and went down backwards. don't ask)
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Because I'm in Property...
I really should stop reading the GNP but... I already read the celebrity gossip sites, most of CNN, about 15 people's profile's on myspace, new apartments on craigslist and... I even logged onto facebook for a few minutes.
So, I moved onto the GNP. Unfortunately.
As I started reading Kimber's (see below) column, I was excited. The guy referenced "Res Ipsa Loquitor" - I know what that means...woohoo! And, I mean, typically, I like what this guy writes... but.... his column seems to make no sense. I mean, he goes from 17 year olds who drive BMW's to what we feed our kids to CEO's being given severance packages. I mean, I'm not advocating severance packages or feeding junk to kids but what's his point? I especially don't get the part about going into someone's house and cleaning it. WTF is he talking about? Am I missing a metaphor?
And, about the bit on 17 year olds driving BMW's...
Perhaps I have become overly sensitive to this subject but I sense some resentment and perhaps some prejudice. Personally, I don't think parents should let their kids drive fancy shmancy expensive cars starting the day they turn 16. BUT, that said, I do know parents who have allowed their kids to drive nice cars and at the same time taught their kids the importance of hard work (or, the value Kimbers seems to think they're missing - how to share the road). And, I've met kids who drive beat up, broke down, barely running vehicles who have ZERO respect for other drivers on the road. Heck, I've seen 40 year olds driving beat up old cars who don't seem to have respect for other drivers. Actually, I think 75% of Southern California drivers have no respect for other people on the road irrespective of what car they drive.
And then he goes on to comment on people who make loud nosie and then ties them to the 17 year olds driving BMW's. That's an interesting assumption. I've known many a non-bmw driving inconsiderate person and many a bmw-driving considerate person.
I just hate generalizations. We all make them. I know. And that's fair. But don't mouth off in a public forum and feed your personal prejudice to everyone else. I've spent many years consciously trying to break down my own personal prejudices. I don't think it's fair to clump people together so categorically. Do we all do it in our personal lives? Of course. That won't change. But when a high school teacher in a predominantly BMW driving community publicly announces his prejudice and then comes into the classroom with such preconceived notions about his students and their families, I am a bit bothered.
(Since GNP articles are archived over two weeks, text below:)
EDUCATION MATTERS:
Let the fact speak for itself
By DAN KIMBER
There is a Latin phrase used in law that says, "res ipsa loquitor," which translates roughly to, "the thing speaks for itself," and is usually invoked in civil cases to establish negligence without having to prove it. When a doctor, for instance, sews up a patient after an operation but fails to remove a scalpel from the patient's body, an obvious case of negligence is established. The fact speaks for itself.
I'd like to apply that phrase to some situations in my life that seem, to me, anyway, self-evident and beyond dispute. Like, for instance, people wanting to build a house/mansion on a street in a neighborhood that will alienate virtually every neighbor in the vicinity. That pretty much speaks for itself. How comfortable would a family be in a house that negatively affects the quality of life of its neighbors?
Like mom and dad buying a new BMW or Mercedes for their 17-year-old son. There is nothing good to be said about such a thing. Parents who indulge their little prince thusly bear responsibility for what they have wrought — a spoiled, over-inflated, thinks-he-owns-the-road, doesn't need to follow rules, obnoxious general pain in the neck for the wider community.
Kids do thrive when they are lavished with love and security and acceptance and support, but they are none the better for coming to believe, at such a tender age, that the world revolves around them.
Like people who make loud, continuous noise into the wee hours (likely related to some of the above folks) without regard to other people within earshot and who are kept awake by their loudness. This is prima facia, in-your-face, inconsiderate, boorish behavior. Can anyone put a positive spin on people who do this?
Like school districts that have money to spare when it comes to instituting useless, and I don't use that word lightly, programs to upgrade teachers' skills, but cannot find the money to finance basic programs that benefit the students. Schools have had to scramble to support many programs by profit sharing with companies that sell junk food on its campuses. Kids get fatter, their requirements for exercise get shorter, their bodies and minds get mushier, and as long as we continue to dispense mega doses of salt, sugar and fat to our children, they will continue to under-perform. The situation is getting better, but much more needs to be done. We need to reinstate the four-year physical-education requirement for high school and get rid of the garbage that substitutes as food from every corner of every campus.
Like when students take a sudden nosedive in their grades. It's almost always because of some emotional upheaval in their lives. Getting them back on track often starts with someone, anyone, caring enough to do a little probing. "So what's going on with you?" "Is everything OK?" "I'm a good listener, is there anything you want to talk about?" If there is a problem, it doesn't take much to open up a kid who is hurting on the inside.
Like when a CEO of a large company gets hundreds of millions of dollars just for leaving the company, while stockholders go empty-handed or workers in that company have their pensions diminished or taken away all together. That is capitalism gone crazy.
And finally, if a person enters someone else's house (uninvited) to clean it up, and then instead proceeds to make an absolute mess of that house while there, and after being asked to leave insists on staying, all the while creating more of a mess, I ask: Shouldn't that someone have the basic sense to leave, and then be gently reminded that it's not his business to put other people's houses in order? That's pretty basic advice wherever and however one wishes to apply it. Res ipsa loquitor.
DAN KIMBER is a teacher in the Glendale Unified School District, where he has taught for more than 30 years. He may be reached at DKimb8@sbcglobal.net
So, I moved onto the GNP. Unfortunately.
As I started reading Kimber's (see below) column, I was excited. The guy referenced "Res Ipsa Loquitor" - I know what that means...woohoo! And, I mean, typically, I like what this guy writes... but.... his column seems to make no sense. I mean, he goes from 17 year olds who drive BMW's to what we feed our kids to CEO's being given severance packages. I mean, I'm not advocating severance packages or feeding junk to kids but what's his point? I especially don't get the part about going into someone's house and cleaning it. WTF is he talking about? Am I missing a metaphor?
And, about the bit on 17 year olds driving BMW's...
Perhaps I have become overly sensitive to this subject but I sense some resentment and perhaps some prejudice. Personally, I don't think parents should let their kids drive fancy shmancy expensive cars starting the day they turn 16. BUT, that said, I do know parents who have allowed their kids to drive nice cars and at the same time taught their kids the importance of hard work (or, the value Kimbers seems to think they're missing - how to share the road). And, I've met kids who drive beat up, broke down, barely running vehicles who have ZERO respect for other drivers on the road. Heck, I've seen 40 year olds driving beat up old cars who don't seem to have respect for other drivers. Actually, I think 75% of Southern California drivers have no respect for other people on the road irrespective of what car they drive.
And then he goes on to comment on people who make loud nosie and then ties them to the 17 year olds driving BMW's. That's an interesting assumption. I've known many a non-bmw driving inconsiderate person and many a bmw-driving considerate person.
I just hate generalizations. We all make them. I know. And that's fair. But don't mouth off in a public forum and feed your personal prejudice to everyone else. I've spent many years consciously trying to break down my own personal prejudices. I don't think it's fair to clump people together so categorically. Do we all do it in our personal lives? Of course. That won't change. But when a high school teacher in a predominantly BMW driving community publicly announces his prejudice and then comes into the classroom with such preconceived notions about his students and their families, I am a bit bothered.
(Since GNP articles are archived over two weeks, text below:)
EDUCATION MATTERS:
Let the fact speak for itself
By DAN KIMBER
There is a Latin phrase used in law that says, "res ipsa loquitor," which translates roughly to, "the thing speaks for itself," and is usually invoked in civil cases to establish negligence without having to prove it. When a doctor, for instance, sews up a patient after an operation but fails to remove a scalpel from the patient's body, an obvious case of negligence is established. The fact speaks for itself.
I'd like to apply that phrase to some situations in my life that seem, to me, anyway, self-evident and beyond dispute. Like, for instance, people wanting to build a house/mansion on a street in a neighborhood that will alienate virtually every neighbor in the vicinity. That pretty much speaks for itself. How comfortable would a family be in a house that negatively affects the quality of life of its neighbors?
Like mom and dad buying a new BMW or Mercedes for their 17-year-old son. There is nothing good to be said about such a thing. Parents who indulge their little prince thusly bear responsibility for what they have wrought — a spoiled, over-inflated, thinks-he-owns-the-road, doesn't need to follow rules, obnoxious general pain in the neck for the wider community.
Kids do thrive when they are lavished with love and security and acceptance and support, but they are none the better for coming to believe, at such a tender age, that the world revolves around them.
Like people who make loud, continuous noise into the wee hours (likely related to some of the above folks) without regard to other people within earshot and who are kept awake by their loudness. This is prima facia, in-your-face, inconsiderate, boorish behavior. Can anyone put a positive spin on people who do this?
Like school districts that have money to spare when it comes to instituting useless, and I don't use that word lightly, programs to upgrade teachers' skills, but cannot find the money to finance basic programs that benefit the students. Schools have had to scramble to support many programs by profit sharing with companies that sell junk food on its campuses. Kids get fatter, their requirements for exercise get shorter, their bodies and minds get mushier, and as long as we continue to dispense mega doses of salt, sugar and fat to our children, they will continue to under-perform. The situation is getting better, but much more needs to be done. We need to reinstate the four-year physical-education requirement for high school and get rid of the garbage that substitutes as food from every corner of every campus.
Like when students take a sudden nosedive in their grades. It's almost always because of some emotional upheaval in their lives. Getting them back on track often starts with someone, anyone, caring enough to do a little probing. "So what's going on with you?" "Is everything OK?" "I'm a good listener, is there anything you want to talk about?" If there is a problem, it doesn't take much to open up a kid who is hurting on the inside.
Like when a CEO of a large company gets hundreds of millions of dollars just for leaving the company, while stockholders go empty-handed or workers in that company have their pensions diminished or taken away all together. That is capitalism gone crazy.
And finally, if a person enters someone else's house (uninvited) to clean it up, and then instead proceeds to make an absolute mess of that house while there, and after being asked to leave insists on staying, all the while creating more of a mess, I ask: Shouldn't that someone have the basic sense to leave, and then be gently reminded that it's not his business to put other people's houses in order? That's pretty basic advice wherever and however one wishes to apply it. Res ipsa loquitor.
DAN KIMBER is a teacher in the Glendale Unified School District, where he has taught for more than 30 years. He may be reached at DKimb8@sbcglobal.net
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)