As a part-time salesperson in a computer store, I have a few pet peeves about dealing with customers and consumer electronics. Just allow me to vent:
1. Customers looking for the perfect product - No matter how long or arduous your search, the perfect product is never to be found. It is amazing how many people pop in to the store with their iPhone or iPod, searching for the perfect case, who subsequently explain to me: "I just want to protect my investment." I desperately want to respond: "I'm sure you'll see a return on that 'investment' very soon." I have opened hundreds of cases for hundreds of finicky customers and none of them are ever totally satisfied with what they inevitably buy. It's a waste of time and energy for them and I.
2. Customers complaining about the cost of iPhone accessories - At the forefront, I am always surprised by people willing to spend $300 on a cell phone (no matter how many functions it has). And yet, after spending half a month's rent on such a device, these are the people who complain about a $15 wall charger. iPhones are expensive. Apple products are expensive. If you aren't prepared to spend liberally, don't buy a consumer product that demands just that.
3. Customers merely looking to spend money - It is absolutely astonishing how many people waltz in and say to me: "What's cool? What can I buy?" I understand that I, as a salesperson, should feel incredibly lucky to have customers like this - and if worked on commission, maybe I would - but it only serves to annoy me. What should you do with your extra money? Buy your wife flowers. Donate to a local charity. It's an entirely judgmental statement, but almost anything would be a better use of money than buying a faster router so that you can watch youtube with less lag time.
There, I've complained enough. Now I feel a little like Peter Griffin from "Family Guy" doing his 'What Grinds My Gears' bit ---
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
A few other cents on sports & sportsmanship
By now, most of you have probably read the recent news story of the Dallas, Texas high school (Covenant) which beat another crosstown rival (Dallas Academy) 100-0 in a horribly mismatched basketball game. The game was 59-0 at the end of the first half and the girls on the Covenant side seemed particularly eager to reach the 100-point mark by the end of the game. Since the story broke, Covenant apologized for their team's conduct and sought to forfeit the game, calling the win "shameful." Now, the coach of the Covenant girls' basketball team has been fired after disagreeing with the administration's statement.
There may be no right answer to the moral puzzle presented here. In a fairer world, Dallas Academy (which has not won a game in the past four years) would not have played a state-championship contender like Covenant. In fairer world, the Dallas coach would have forfeit the game at halftime and praised his girls for their tenacity. Finally, in a fairer world the Covenant squad would have scored a handful of points and, subsequently, no one would have talked about this game after it ended.
But none of these things happened. One team won and one team lost. Badly. As such, it's raised a multitude of ethical questions (most of which can be applied to any sport, regardless of the school or league): Should a winning team stop their scoring attempts once they've built an insurmountable lead? In such a situation, should one of the coaches make an attempt to stop the game? Is it right to forfeit a contest with so lopsided a conclusion?
Personally, I think all these questions return to the problem of pity, which is why I would answer (respectively) no, not necessarily, and no to the questions posed above. As a person who has played on many a losing team, I would argue that the last thing a failing team wants is pity. It's demeaning and it shouldn't be mistaken for mercy (which is an act of love). And for those Covenant girls to practice passing drills for forty-eight minutes or to dribble circles around the Dallas team without scoring, that's exactly what it would have been - demeaning. Additionally, the Covenant administration's move to forfeit the game is demeaning. I will be the first to praise the Dallas team for their fortitude in the face of such adversity - consider how few of us would willingly have played the entire game - but it insults the players to say they "won" in any conventional sense. It's unrealistic and it attempts to refute the valuable lesson learned here. Dallas Academy lost but they lost after playing with incredible vigor and tenacity. Very few competitors could say they would have done the same.
There may be no right answer to the moral puzzle presented here. In a fairer world, Dallas Academy (which has not won a game in the past four years) would not have played a state-championship contender like Covenant. In fairer world, the Dallas coach would have forfeit the game at halftime and praised his girls for their tenacity. Finally, in a fairer world the Covenant squad would have scored a handful of points and, subsequently, no one would have talked about this game after it ended.
But none of these things happened. One team won and one team lost. Badly. As such, it's raised a multitude of ethical questions (most of which can be applied to any sport, regardless of the school or league): Should a winning team stop their scoring attempts once they've built an insurmountable lead? In such a situation, should one of the coaches make an attempt to stop the game? Is it right to forfeit a contest with so lopsided a conclusion?
Personally, I think all these questions return to the problem of pity, which is why I would answer (respectively) no, not necessarily, and no to the questions posed above. As a person who has played on many a losing team, I would argue that the last thing a failing team wants is pity. It's demeaning and it shouldn't be mistaken for mercy (which is an act of love). And for those Covenant girls to practice passing drills for forty-eight minutes or to dribble circles around the Dallas team without scoring, that's exactly what it would have been - demeaning. Additionally, the Covenant administration's move to forfeit the game is demeaning. I will be the first to praise the Dallas team for their fortitude in the face of such adversity - consider how few of us would willingly have played the entire game - but it insults the players to say they "won" in any conventional sense. It's unrealistic and it attempts to refute the valuable lesson learned here. Dallas Academy lost but they lost after playing with incredible vigor and tenacity. Very few competitors could say they would have done the same.
My two cents on an embattled mayor
In terms of Portland-area news, I may be weighing in on this debate a tad late but for those of you who aren't aware of our current political "scandal", here's a rundown: Sam Adams, Portland's newly elected mayor, has recently come under fire for his short-lived relationship with an eighteen-year-old legislative intern in the summer of 2007. Until two weeks ago, Adams had repeatedly stated that his relationship with the intern was only one of friendship and professional mentoring. But after a particularly in-depth report by a local alternative newspaper, Adams admitted that he had lied about the nature of the relationship. It had been, he admitted, consensually sexual and he first lied about it because he thought it would create an unwelcome focal point in the mayoral race. Some Portland residents have been outspoken about their desire to see Adams resign, while others have staunchly supported his decision to remain in office. The most prevalent ammunition hurled by detractors is not the relationship itself but Adams' act of lying.
I may be stealing a response from incoming U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder, but in regards to the query of whether or not it's wrong that Adams lied, I believe it's impossible to answer the question without questioning the premise. Adams relationship with the intern may have not have been commendable but, nevertheless, it was perfectly legal. Their contact was consensual and the intern was over eighteen and did not work for him. So, it must be asked, why the initial questions about the relationship? Couldn't Adams simply have said that the matter was personal and, thus, not open for discussion? I understand that there are other issues at play here (e.g. questions of unethical reciprocity) but in terms of the first lie, I can't condemn Adams any more than I can someone who lies about a past infidelity to a nosy neighbor. If we demand more government transparency, and expect politicians to answer increasingly personal questions, we shouldn't be surprised to discover very typical, very human flaws.
I may be stealing a response from incoming U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder, but in regards to the query of whether or not it's wrong that Adams lied, I believe it's impossible to answer the question without questioning the premise. Adams relationship with the intern may have not have been commendable but, nevertheless, it was perfectly legal. Their contact was consensual and the intern was over eighteen and did not work for him. So, it must be asked, why the initial questions about the relationship? Couldn't Adams simply have said that the matter was personal and, thus, not open for discussion? I understand that there are other issues at play here (e.g. questions of unethical reciprocity) but in terms of the first lie, I can't condemn Adams any more than I can someone who lies about a past infidelity to a nosy neighbor. If we demand more government transparency, and expect politicians to answer increasingly personal questions, we shouldn't be surprised to discover very typical, very human flaws.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Another bit of Vonnegut
I don't mean to discuss him ad nauseam, but I rediscovered a great article on the A.V Club today that I thought worth sharing: "15 Things Kurt Vonnegut Said Better Than Anyone Else Ever Has Or Will". I think I enjoy lists like this because they acknowledge the splendid things I fail to mention or, at the very least, commit to memory. My favorite quotes appear below (with their respective novels):
"I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"
`from A Man Without A Country. I talked about this sentiment in an earlier post but I figured I'd at least identify the novel - plus it's one of the few hopeful moments in Vonnegut's otherwise bitter swan song.
"There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too. Where’s evil? It’s that large part of every man that wants to hate without limit, that wants to hate with God on his side. It’s that part of every man that finds all kinds of ugliness so attractive...It’s that part of an imbecile...that punishes and vilifies and makes war gladly."
`from Mother Night. Possibly my second favorite novel of his, it has a wonderfully dark sense of humor and more than a few pearls of wisdom. Darker still, these judgments are most often presented by an exiled American accused of disseminating Nazi propaganda.
"Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies — God damn it, you've got to be kind."
`from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater. Probably Vonnegut's shortest summation of his personal ethos, this quote comes from my all-time favorite KV novel. Though I don't consider myself a secular humanist, nor do I think this little book provides his best quotes, I dearly love the story. Eliot Rosewater is a character for the ages. He’s Christ-like, but much more human than Christ. A drunk with an intense interest in local fire-protection, a dreamer, a giver, a slob, and possibly a madman (at least, part of the time). Maybe Mr. Rosewater doesn’t reflect Jesus as much as he does John the Baptist – a recluse nearly alone in the wilderness, save for the hordes of pathetic, repenting souls who come to him for help and healing.
"I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"
`from A Man Without A Country. I talked about this sentiment in an earlier post but I figured I'd at least identify the novel - plus it's one of the few hopeful moments in Vonnegut's otherwise bitter swan song.
"There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too. Where’s evil? It’s that large part of every man that wants to hate without limit, that wants to hate with God on his side. It’s that part of every man that finds all kinds of ugliness so attractive...It’s that part of an imbecile...that punishes and vilifies and makes war gladly."
`from Mother Night. Possibly my second favorite novel of his, it has a wonderfully dark sense of humor and more than a few pearls of wisdom. Darker still, these judgments are most often presented by an exiled American accused of disseminating Nazi propaganda.
"Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies — God damn it, you've got to be kind."
`from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater. Probably Vonnegut's shortest summation of his personal ethos, this quote comes from my all-time favorite KV novel. Though I don't consider myself a secular humanist, nor do I think this little book provides his best quotes, I dearly love the story. Eliot Rosewater is a character for the ages. He’s Christ-like, but much more human than Christ. A drunk with an intense interest in local fire-protection, a dreamer, a giver, a slob, and possibly a madman (at least, part of the time). Maybe Mr. Rosewater doesn’t reflect Jesus as much as he does John the Baptist – a recluse nearly alone in the wilderness, save for the hordes of pathetic, repenting souls who come to him for help and healing.
From the Desk of the Editor ---
At the risk of being labeled prolific or arrogant (or not being labeled at all), I have started a second blog, The Pith Report. I conceived of the idea after a failed attempt to write for a popular, satirical news website. (Though any current similarities to that site are almost purely coincidental). The Report provides daily updates on all things pithy and inconsequential. (Making it almost entirely different from this blog). Please give it a read and remember that you can always sign up and follow my blog(s), subscribe to the RSS feed(s), and comment upon any/all posts.
Thank you,
The Editor
Thank you,
The Editor
Friday, January 23, 2009
Two hands, two feet, ten tasks
Over the past few days (or years, if I'm honest) I have been fighting with my ability and/or willingness to multi-task. It's an area where I frequently fail. But my allegiance is torn between wanting to improve and my desire to go against the grain. In most respects I think our society moves too quickly, enjoys too little, and tries to extract too many tasks out of our waking life. Beyond this belief I find it maddening that we, as a nation, are flying around more quickly than ever and, statistically, getting less done. I don't believe anything worthwhile can be accomplished with satisfactory results while ten other things are being attended at the same time. Mark Twain, as usual, said it best: "The bane of Americans is overwork--and the ruin of any work is a divided interest. Concentrate - concentrate. One thing at a time." I am not innocent of this lack of concentration - I frequently compose intimidating lists of tasks I need to accomplish and, in the scant time over lunch break I devote to them, I often fail miserably. (I'm currently writing this post while devouring leftover enchiladas from last night).
However, once upon a time, I did have a personal system to deal with all this pressure. Instead of going off a fifteen-item list of things I "should" get done that day, every morning I sat down and wrote one tiny list. The absolute limit was three tasks, but if they were larger jobs (e.g. writing a paper for class, catching up on "Lost") I could cut the list down to one or two items. In this way, I finished two or three important things each day and found myself less overwhelmed and more satisfied at the end of the week. Though it's been a proven system for me, I frequently fall out of the habit and find myself stuck with a massive to do list and a body too stressed to finish it. It's probably time to retake the antidote.
(cartoon by Bruce Eric Kaplan)
However, once upon a time, I did have a personal system to deal with all this pressure. Instead of going off a fifteen-item list of things I "should" get done that day, every morning I sat down and wrote one tiny list. The absolute limit was three tasks, but if they were larger jobs (e.g. writing a paper for class, catching up on "Lost") I could cut the list down to one or two items. In this way, I finished two or three important things each day and found myself less overwhelmed and more satisfied at the end of the week. Though it's been a proven system for me, I frequently fall out of the habit and find myself stuck with a massive to do list and a body too stressed to finish it. It's probably time to retake the antidote.
(cartoon by Bruce Eric Kaplan)
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Happiness Project
For those you who, like me, suffer from frequent bouts of melancholy, who sometimes have difficulty finding purpose, and who generally feel unhappy more often than you feel content, I encourage you to read Gretchen Rubin's recently launched blog, "The Happiness Project", which is being hosted by the kind folks at Slate. (I say that with slight reservations as Christopher Hitchens, the perpetual curmudgeon, is a frequent Slate contributor). And for those of you who, like me, are skeptical of anything that reeks of neo-self-help-individualism and/or just dislike sappy titles like "The Happiness Project", I'd still urge to you give her first post a read, where she lays out her reasoning behind such a project. "Some people think that wanting to be happier is a selfish, self-absorbed goal — but I disagree..." she writes. "Research shows that happy people are more altruistic, more productive, more helpful, more likeable, more creative, more resilient, more interested in the problems of others, friendlier, and healthier. Happy people make better friends, colleagues, and citizens."
(photo by David Shrigley)
(another photo by Shrigley)
(photo by David Shrigley)
(another photo by Shrigley)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Solving the scrolling problem
Today at work, one of our older customers - we'll call her Rose - arrived at the store with her computer and a list of problems she'd been experiencing. So we turned on her machine and traveled, line by line, through the list ---
1. "My emails keep getting cut off" - This was a misunderstanding. Rose did not know how to scroll, so her longer emails kept getting 'cut off' by the bottom of the screen. She swore that a 'tech savvy' friend couldn't figure it out either.
Solved: Yes, after a ten minute lesson.
2. "My pictures in my emails keep getting cut off" - Same problem as above (with similar stupefation by her 'tech savvy' friend).
Solved: Yes, rolled into the same lesson as problem one.
3. "I can't close any of my windows" - Much like the first two issues, Rose didn't know how to move a dialog window. As such, she had accidentally slid them partway off the screen and was unable to close any of her windows or programs.
Solved: Yes, after another shorter lesson.
4. "My computer keeps asking for my password" - This problem was a little more complicated. I had a heck of a time trying to figure out whether Rose was talking about her master password or her email password. To solve this issue she had been turning off her computer and unplugging everything each time it asked for a password. This apparently solved the problem, at least, until it asked for the password again.
Solved: Yes, after I realized that she had not installed updates for over a year.
5. "Can't look at anything on the 'u-tube'" - After being forwarded a few youtube links from friends, Rose was interested in checking out the site for herself. But 'the u-tube' just wasn't cooperating. I quickly discerned that it was related to her lack of updates.
Solved: Yes.
6. "Can't set up a Hallmark Online account" (My personal favorite) - Rose had received numerous e-cards from friends and she was anxious to send a few of her own. But, due to her lack of updates, she was unable to log into the account she had set up.
Solved: Not yet.
She had three more problems on her list, but they were fairly similar to the first six. Situations like this used to irk me when I started my job. Now, I get a kick out of them - I figure I'd rather spend an hour with a polite, yet clueless customer like Rose than a handful of hurried shoppers with Bluetooth headsets and short fuses. And it helped that she was a good sport about the ordeal. Throughout our conversation, she kept shaking her head, smiling, and mumbling: "They keep changing everything - I never had to do that before..." I just smiled and nodded.
FYI: Rose is returning tomorrow so we can finish setting up her Hallmark account and send out a few e-cards.
1. "My emails keep getting cut off" - This was a misunderstanding. Rose did not know how to scroll, so her longer emails kept getting 'cut off' by the bottom of the screen. She swore that a 'tech savvy' friend couldn't figure it out either.
Solved: Yes, after a ten minute lesson.
2. "My pictures in my emails keep getting cut off" - Same problem as above (with similar stupefation by her 'tech savvy' friend).
Solved: Yes, rolled into the same lesson as problem one.
3. "I can't close any of my windows" - Much like the first two issues, Rose didn't know how to move a dialog window. As such, she had accidentally slid them partway off the screen and was unable to close any of her windows or programs.
Solved: Yes, after another shorter lesson.
4. "My computer keeps asking for my password" - This problem was a little more complicated. I had a heck of a time trying to figure out whether Rose was talking about her master password or her email password. To solve this issue she had been turning off her computer and unplugging everything each time it asked for a password. This apparently solved the problem, at least, until it asked for the password again.
Solved: Yes, after I realized that she had not installed updates for over a year.
5. "Can't look at anything on the 'u-tube'" - After being forwarded a few youtube links from friends, Rose was interested in checking out the site for herself. But 'the u-tube' just wasn't cooperating. I quickly discerned that it was related to her lack of updates.
Solved: Yes.
6. "Can't set up a Hallmark Online account" (My personal favorite) - Rose had received numerous e-cards from friends and she was anxious to send a few of her own. But, due to her lack of updates, she was unable to log into the account she had set up.
Solved: Not yet.
She had three more problems on her list, but they were fairly similar to the first six. Situations like this used to irk me when I started my job. Now, I get a kick out of them - I figure I'd rather spend an hour with a polite, yet clueless customer like Rose than a handful of hurried shoppers with Bluetooth headsets and short fuses. And it helped that she was a good sport about the ordeal. Throughout our conversation, she kept shaking her head, smiling, and mumbling: "They keep changing everything - I never had to do that before..." I just smiled and nodded.
FYI: Rose is returning tomorrow so we can finish setting up her Hallmark account and send out a few e-cards.
The selling of an inauguration
For those of you paying attention to anything media-based, we're in full inauguration mode in America, as many news outlets are now featuring round-the-clock coverage of "inauguration week." Was the event always this crazed? When did it turn into a weeklong party? In any case, I've enjoyed reading a few critics dissect the madness of it all.
Over at the XX Blog on Slate, Sara Mosle briefly discusses the sudden flood of Obama/Inauguration/Hope kitsch. Upon finding the merchandise stacked in a shrine at her local Bed, Bath & Beyond, she ponders if "such trinkets may inadvertently turn out to be the first installment of Obama's stimulus package." (It suddenly feels like my duty to go out and buy such junk...but I'll still refrain).
On The Onion's A.V Club page, Amelie Gillette lambasts the more overt attempts to capitalize on tomorrow's historical event by showcasing an $1,800 "Hope" handbag that is available in python, lizard, or ostrich leg (!?) skin. (In this case, I'm less tempted to invest).
Over at the XX Blog on Slate, Sara Mosle briefly discusses the sudden flood of Obama/Inauguration/Hope kitsch. Upon finding the merchandise stacked in a shrine at her local Bed, Bath & Beyond, she ponders if "such trinkets may inadvertently turn out to be the first installment of Obama's stimulus package." (It suddenly feels like my duty to go out and buy such junk...but I'll still refrain).
On The Onion's A.V Club page, Amelie Gillette lambasts the more overt attempts to capitalize on tomorrow's historical event by showcasing an $1,800 "Hope" handbag that is available in python, lizard, or ostrich leg (!?) skin. (In this case, I'm less tempted to invest).
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Another short beginning
Another beginning to a piece I have yet to finish ---
"For reasons I only partly understand, my father bought a little red sports car the day after he discovered my mother’s infidelities. While she attended fire-dancing classes and arrived home late in the evenings, he desperately called auto shops to compare the cost of racing stripes and vintage hood ornaments. He entered his new ride into the fall harvest parade – alongside the other fifty and sixty-somethings and all those attempting to recapture some spirit of youth, danger, and virility – and was ignorant of the fact that my mother didn’t even attend this farce, as she was busy having a lavish oyster dinner with a man she had met in one of her adult ed classes. Meanwhile, across town, I hid out in my studio apartment and took very few calls. But it was only a matter of weeks, or days, before my father would crack and race over to my house and we would become two, aging bachelor losers, leaning on one another for support."
"For reasons I only partly understand, my father bought a little red sports car the day after he discovered my mother’s infidelities. While she attended fire-dancing classes and arrived home late in the evenings, he desperately called auto shops to compare the cost of racing stripes and vintage hood ornaments. He entered his new ride into the fall harvest parade – alongside the other fifty and sixty-somethings and all those attempting to recapture some spirit of youth, danger, and virility – and was ignorant of the fact that my mother didn’t even attend this farce, as she was busy having a lavish oyster dinner with a man she had met in one of her adult ed classes. Meanwhile, across town, I hid out in my studio apartment and took very few calls. But it was only a matter of weeks, or days, before my father would crack and race over to my house and we would become two, aging bachelor losers, leaning on one another for support."
Friday, January 16, 2009
So this is the new year...
A few things I am excited about in the new year ---
- The February 17th release of Dark Was the Night: The AIDS benefit album will feature a few funky collaborations (e.g. Feist + Ben Gibbard, Conor Oberst + Gillian Welch, etc.) and new songs by Sufjan Stevens, My Morning Jacket, Bon Iver, The Arcade Fire, Iron & Wine, Spoon, The Decemberists, and Beirut. In lieu of new albums by most of those artists, this is the next best thing. Get more info about the release here.
- A new presidency: I'm a moderate in most ways. (Actually, I recently decided that I'm a social libertarian and an economic socialist, if that's a possible marriage). And, unlike many others, I don't have a laundry list of grievances about the Bush administration. But the one thing I missed most throughout the eight years of this presidency was an adept public speaker. Bush just didn't have the skills. Obama does. I'm excited.
- Going back to school: I know, it's a bit egghead but the prospect of moving to a new place and earning a degree while doing something I actually enjoy sounds like gravy. I have nine graduate applications submitted to nine schools in eight different states - one less now, regards to Indiana - and I'll be getting my rejection/acceptance letters any day. (And in case I solely receive rejection letters from all nine schools, my "Plan B" is to locate a good Masters in Teaching program here in the Pacific Northwest).
- The re-release of Once a Runner: The rare, out-of-print John L. Parker novel is finally getting a second printing and is due out in April. (For those interested, see my January 2nd post about the book).
- Finally getting a cat: Some of you have been hearing Adie and I whine about wanting a cat since we both moved to Portland. Well we haven't visited the shelter yet and we may not be able to afford any of those fancy collars or scratching posts, but we do have a name picked out. So, Steve Knutson, wherever you are, I promise this is the year you come home.
- The February 17th release of Dark Was the Night: The AIDS benefit album will feature a few funky collaborations (e.g. Feist + Ben Gibbard, Conor Oberst + Gillian Welch, etc.) and new songs by Sufjan Stevens, My Morning Jacket, Bon Iver, The Arcade Fire, Iron & Wine, Spoon, The Decemberists, and Beirut. In lieu of new albums by most of those artists, this is the next best thing. Get more info about the release here.
- A new presidency: I'm a moderate in most ways. (Actually, I recently decided that I'm a social libertarian and an economic socialist, if that's a possible marriage). And, unlike many others, I don't have a laundry list of grievances about the Bush administration. But the one thing I missed most throughout the eight years of this presidency was an adept public speaker. Bush just didn't have the skills. Obama does. I'm excited.
- Going back to school: I know, it's a bit egghead but the prospect of moving to a new place and earning a degree while doing something I actually enjoy sounds like gravy. I have nine graduate applications submitted to nine schools in eight different states - one less now, regards to Indiana - and I'll be getting my rejection/acceptance letters any day. (And in case I solely receive rejection letters from all nine schools, my "Plan B" is to locate a good Masters in Teaching program here in the Pacific Northwest).
- The re-release of Once a Runner: The rare, out-of-print John L. Parker novel is finally getting a second printing and is due out in April. (For those interested, see my January 2nd post about the book).
- Finally getting a cat: Some of you have been hearing Adie and I whine about wanting a cat since we both moved to Portland. Well we haven't visited the shelter yet and we may not be able to afford any of those fancy collars or scratching posts, but we do have a name picked out. So, Steve Knutson, wherever you are, I promise this is the year you come home.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
For the love of socks
It may sound strange, but I always thought if I won the lottery, the first thing I would buy is a whole new set of socks. Not the kind that are sold in white or gray ten packs, but the kind that describes what you do during the day (e.g. walking, hiking, wind surfing) and individually sell for $16 a pair. Granted, this fantasy started when I didn't take care of my sock-wear - I frequently kept socks with holes in the toe and heel and didn't replace them until I my shoes had, essentially, become my socks. (Much like those who go "commando" essentially turn their pants into underpants). Now, after owning a few pairs of comfortable socks I have come to understand their value. When starting out the day with a good pair, the whole world seems brighter, softer, and more promising. You don't mind getting up from your chair, you're quick to fetch a printout for a colleague, and you sometimes find interest in seemingly non-interesting things. In high school, I clearly remember attending a choir concert while wearing new, active-lifestyle, expensive socks and I nearly felt drunk with pleasure. It was heaven. It felt like good meatloaf, like having a loved one lay beside you while you're perfectly content, like drinking a cold beer in the shower (which is also one of life's unheralded joys). Maybe, someday, I'll write a book about the small, overlooked gratifications in life. Kurt Vonnegut said, in some novel, that people don't stop often enough and identify the things that make them happy. I, for one, hope to always stop and dissect those moments, no matter how absurd or wee.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks
For my "friends" interested in grammar (or just bothered by the abuse of it), please visit this link which gives a frequently updated report on the improper use of quotation marks.
The Modest Knight
I completed the first draft of my young adult novel, The Modest Knight, this last month. (I'm proud, and surprised, to say I fulfilled my goal of finishing before the year's end - I had been working on it, whenever I had the time, for over two years). Now, I am entering into the arduous stage of editing. With any luck, I'll have an adequate version of it finished by summer, possibly in time for the Willamette Writers' yearly conference. Here is the very beginning, for those who are interested ---
Chapter One
Back in time when everything seemed to be painted in blacks, whites, and grays – and the most vivid colors were found in the trappings of nature, in blood and wildflowers – there was a boy named Daniel Pinkus. Daniel lived in a hard age, in a beautiful but difficult land where people scraped everything from the earth to survive. They built houses out of mud, planted crops in rocky soil. and burned sod for heat. As it happened, Daniel lived in one of these houses of mud with his mother, father, and younger sister, Naomi. Within the small village where they lived their house was the smallest, the very last of the huts on a dead end road. Daniel’s father was a rock driver, and for twelve hours a day he carted and carried stones from the quarry to the local mason who in turn built houses and property walls for wealthy landowners all around the surrounding valleys. While his father toiled in the quarry during the day, his mother tended herbs and vegetables in the garden and what they didn’t eat at home she sold at the local market. After Daniel would finish helping his mother in the morning and early afternoon, he and Naomi would make off into the fields behind their house. They made bows and arrows out of saplings and fallen twigs, and held target practice by a small stream. They climbed trees high, high into the tops and spied on the people in the village, going to and from work. Sometimes they ventured into the forest, though not far, and when they returned home before dinner – clothes often ripped, dirty, and muddy – their mother scolded them, fed them a quick dinner, and put them to bed early. They were regularly bedded down before dark. But their father went to bed early as well, exhausted from his day of hauling rocks. This simple, hard life was the way it had been for a long, long time – as long as Daniel could remember, in fact...
Chapter One
Back in time when everything seemed to be painted in blacks, whites, and grays – and the most vivid colors were found in the trappings of nature, in blood and wildflowers – there was a boy named Daniel Pinkus. Daniel lived in a hard age, in a beautiful but difficult land where people scraped everything from the earth to survive. They built houses out of mud, planted crops in rocky soil. and burned sod for heat. As it happened, Daniel lived in one of these houses of mud with his mother, father, and younger sister, Naomi. Within the small village where they lived their house was the smallest, the very last of the huts on a dead end road. Daniel’s father was a rock driver, and for twelve hours a day he carted and carried stones from the quarry to the local mason who in turn built houses and property walls for wealthy landowners all around the surrounding valleys. While his father toiled in the quarry during the day, his mother tended herbs and vegetables in the garden and what they didn’t eat at home she sold at the local market. After Daniel would finish helping his mother in the morning and early afternoon, he and Naomi would make off into the fields behind their house. They made bows and arrows out of saplings and fallen twigs, and held target practice by a small stream. They climbed trees high, high into the tops and spied on the people in the village, going to and from work. Sometimes they ventured into the forest, though not far, and when they returned home before dinner – clothes often ripped, dirty, and muddy – their mother scolded them, fed them a quick dinner, and put them to bed early. They were regularly bedded down before dark. But their father went to bed early as well, exhausted from his day of hauling rocks. This simple, hard life was the way it had been for a long, long time – as long as Daniel could remember, in fact...
Saturday, January 10, 2009
"Dancehall Places"
I discovered this song and video about a year ago and I've been listening to it ever since. Damien Jurado is one of those artists I'm always surprised more music lovers aren't aware of. He combines a lot of that folk-inspired Nebraska-era Springsteen with more experimental "found sound" and storytelling. (He actually draws a lot of critical comparisons - see my last post - to Raymond Carver). This song isn't necessarily his typical fare but I think it would be challenge for most people not to enjoy it ---
"Dancehall Places" - Mint Royale w/ Damien Jurado
"Dancehall Places" - Mint Royale w/ Damien Jurado
"A perfect balance of Chesterton, Hitchens, and Shel Silverstein..."
A friend sent me a link to an article about author comparisons and how every emerging writer is forcefully pigeonholed into one of ten categories. Funny article, well worth the quick read. Obviously, it made me ponder that whole phenomenon - the basic human urge to categorize or quantify anything new. In the case of books, I often find myself attracted to something with an original plot, slick cover, or witty title. But then I wonder: "Will I even like this? Don't I have other books I still need to read? Is it worth the $12?" Maybe not, but interested folks are betting I'm more likely to buy it if it's compared to Augusten Burroughs or Amy Sedaris. (Which has certainly sold me a number of times).
Anyway, I'd like to write my own comparisons some day ---
"Reminiscent of an older John Kennedy Toole..."
"The funniest bits of James Watson, E.O. Wilson, and Howard Zinn, all rolled into one side-splitting story."
"As life affirming...and spiritually relevant as anything by Twain or Vonnegut."
"The next James Frey."
Anyway, I'd like to write my own comparisons some day ---
"Reminiscent of an older John Kennedy Toole..."
"The funniest bits of James Watson, E.O. Wilson, and Howard Zinn, all rolled into one side-splitting story."
"As life affirming...and spiritually relevant as anything by Twain or Vonnegut."
"The next James Frey."
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
A short post on the master of -ics
I just finished re-watching "Hannah and Her Sisters", one of Woody Allen's mid-period, dramatic films. Though I sometimes forget, whenever I revisit his work I find myself asking the same question: Neurotic, romantic, dramatic, comedic, tragic - Is there a better maven of the -ics? No other film-maker has so consistently given us such an enjoyable balance between these states of being. If you haven't watched them recently (or ever), please view the following movies for their dramatic excellence:
"Hannah and Her Sisters"
"Crimes and Misdemeanors"
"Manhattan"
...and these for their comedic timelessness:
"Annie Hall"
"Sleeper"
"Zelig"
(From "Hannah and Her Sisters")
(From "Sleeper")
"Hannah and Her Sisters"
"Crimes and Misdemeanors"
"Manhattan"
...and these for their comedic timelessness:
"Annie Hall"
"Sleeper"
"Zelig"
(From "Hannah and Her Sisters")
(From "Sleeper")
The perfect job
One summer in high school, I worked for the Forest Service with someone who would later become a very close friend. After waking at 4:30 and driving the hour to work each morning, we stole pens from the supply closet, studied satellite maps, and chose a sunny spot to spend the day performing surveys on replanted forestry plots. And then we drove, burned one forearm apiece, and talked. We spit sunflower seeds, napped in the shade over our lunch break, and played home run derby with rocks and broken sticks. And we talked, about anything and everything. (In retrospect, it was easily the best summer out of those high school summers).
One of the things I remember us discussing was the idea of our "perfect job". At that point, I decided my ideal career would be to sleep for a living. I would go to work, sleep for eight hours, and then return home. If I had a family, I would spend time with them in the evening (after my job) and then have the night to myself. I could write, exercise, watch movies, and (if I wanted to) sleep a little more. It seemed, well, perfect.
Now, I try to nail down the idea of the ideal job and I feel a little lost. A film critic, an author, a screenwriter, a lobbyist...anything that involves imagination, creation, and people. But this is a place I suppose most people find themselves - dissatisfied with their first few jobs and hunting for something that fits. My hope is that this hope does not go too often unfulfilled.
One of the things I remember us discussing was the idea of our "perfect job". At that point, I decided my ideal career would be to sleep for a living. I would go to work, sleep for eight hours, and then return home. If I had a family, I would spend time with them in the evening (after my job) and then have the night to myself. I could write, exercise, watch movies, and (if I wanted to) sleep a little more. It seemed, well, perfect.
Now, I try to nail down the idea of the ideal job and I feel a little lost. A film critic, an author, a screenwriter, a lobbyist...anything that involves imagination, creation, and people. But this is a place I suppose most people find themselves - dissatisfied with their first few jobs and hunting for something that fits. My hope is that this hope does not go too often unfulfilled.
Monday, January 5, 2009
A extra-whiny personal essay blurb
Whilst cleaning out some old things, I came across a personal essay I wrote recently, which was inspired after hearing an episode of "This American Life" and reading David Sedaris' Holidays On Ice. Here is a short piece of it ---
"In the period between Christmas and my birthday in March, I apply for thirty-seven different jobs. In addition, I send various pieces of my writing to thirteen publications, e-zines, and editors. My extensive application for a Fulbright grant (ten months in the works) and my graduate school submission to the University of British Columbia are both rejected. My long shot goals of writing for “The Onion”, finishing my young adult novel, and pitching story ideas to numerous publishing agents at an annual writing conference go, unceremoniously, unfulfilled. I continue my drudging at the computer store, learning the inventory department in addition to my sales duties. For my own amusement, I write to our company’s president one Friday. “Dear Craig,” I write, “We have not met but I work the inventory department at your Beaverton store. I am writing because certain thoughts have weighed heavily on my mind as of late.” I go on to discuss Capitalism and it’s flaws and the idea of consumer “buying power.” My three and a half page manifesto concludes thusly: “In the end, people buy products they do not need and people work harder, longer hours for less pay with fewer benefits. Ideally, we would see this Capitalistic model fail, as neither the customer nor the employee is treated well. Yet only a massive displacement of buying power or working manpower would have a lasting effect on the system.” Much to my surprise, Craig sends me a reply the very next Sunday. “I am always open to such interesting and intelligent conversation,” he begins, “and I applaud you for asking these difficult questions.” He follows this introduction with his own rousing, three and a half page defense of Capitalism, assuring me that “while it’s not a perfect system, it’s the best we’ve got.” And so my unspoken aim behind writing this treatise, of being plucked from the minutiae of sales and inventory – being thrust into a position of writing, expounding, creating – is lost."
"In the period between Christmas and my birthday in March, I apply for thirty-seven different jobs. In addition, I send various pieces of my writing to thirteen publications, e-zines, and editors. My extensive application for a Fulbright grant (ten months in the works) and my graduate school submission to the University of British Columbia are both rejected. My long shot goals of writing for “The Onion”, finishing my young adult novel, and pitching story ideas to numerous publishing agents at an annual writing conference go, unceremoniously, unfulfilled. I continue my drudging at the computer store, learning the inventory department in addition to my sales duties. For my own amusement, I write to our company’s president one Friday. “Dear Craig,” I write, “We have not met but I work the inventory department at your Beaverton store. I am writing because certain thoughts have weighed heavily on my mind as of late.” I go on to discuss Capitalism and it’s flaws and the idea of consumer “buying power.” My three and a half page manifesto concludes thusly: “In the end, people buy products they do not need and people work harder, longer hours for less pay with fewer benefits. Ideally, we would see this Capitalistic model fail, as neither the customer nor the employee is treated well. Yet only a massive displacement of buying power or working manpower would have a lasting effect on the system.” Much to my surprise, Craig sends me a reply the very next Sunday. “I am always open to such interesting and intelligent conversation,” he begins, “and I applaud you for asking these difficult questions.” He follows this introduction with his own rousing, three and a half page defense of Capitalism, assuring me that “while it’s not a perfect system, it’s the best we’ve got.” And so my unspoken aim behind writing this treatise, of being plucked from the minutiae of sales and inventory – being thrust into a position of writing, expounding, creating – is lost."
Playoff season and the fear of being a traitor
I realized today that I have yet to write anything about sports, which is odd as many of my weekends during football season are devoted to the watching of at least one or two good games. And it's not as if I'm a neutral viewer who has no opinions on the game(s). (For instance, I disagree with the way overtime is played in the NFL and I find it laughable that Division I-A college ball has no playoff system (particularly when a perfectly workable playoff system exists in Division I-AA)). In particular, I've been most concerned with college football rivalries and the fans that perpetuate them. Bill Simmons, ESPN's "Page 2" correspondent, has a good list of general sports rules for fans, but here are my few college-football-centric additions (some of which run contrary to his):
1. It is okay* to root for another team that is in your school's conference.
*Recently, I've had run-ins with "loyal" college football fans who feel utter disdain for the other teams in their conference. While I think this is normally acceptable during the regular season, the playoffs - or bowl seasons - are a different story. For example, if my UM Grizzlies are out of the hunt for a national title and our rival (the Montana State Bobcats) are still in the picture, I will gladly root for them. This is not only because they are in the same conference but because they have yet to win a national title. In addition, if your team is from a conference that doesn't get much respect (e.g. Mountain West, WAC, etc.) then it is almost obligatory to cheer for the team that is generating said respect (provided your own team is done for the season). The good buzz that appears around a winning team is only good for the conference as a whole.
2. An understanding* of the game must precede any rivalry.
*I can't tell you how many times I've had conversations where I present my side of the rivalry debate (see Rule #1) only to discover that the other person doesn't know how many downs there are in a series. Now, I never played football and I personally know it takes some time and energy to understand it - and some misconceptions about overtime rules, names and positions are forgivable - but it is totally asinine for a "fan" to froth at the mouth about their loyalty to team when they don't know how the game is played.
3. Keep your rivalries in perspective*.
*Plain and simple, we are fans of the schools we attended due to the happenstance, fate, or God that put us there. As such, it's good to remember that most of us were a scholarship or acceptance letter away from being fans of a different school. So remember that rivalries are a means for enjoying the game more and not a foundation on which to build your ego.
1. It is okay* to root for another team that is in your school's conference.
*Recently, I've had run-ins with "loyal" college football fans who feel utter disdain for the other teams in their conference. While I think this is normally acceptable during the regular season, the playoffs - or bowl seasons - are a different story. For example, if my UM Grizzlies are out of the hunt for a national title and our rival (the Montana State Bobcats) are still in the picture, I will gladly root for them. This is not only because they are in the same conference but because they have yet to win a national title. In addition, if your team is from a conference that doesn't get much respect (e.g. Mountain West, WAC, etc.) then it is almost obligatory to cheer for the team that is generating said respect (provided your own team is done for the season). The good buzz that appears around a winning team is only good for the conference as a whole.
2. An understanding* of the game must precede any rivalry.
*I can't tell you how many times I've had conversations where I present my side of the rivalry debate (see Rule #1) only to discover that the other person doesn't know how many downs there are in a series. Now, I never played football and I personally know it takes some time and energy to understand it - and some misconceptions about overtime rules, names and positions are forgivable - but it is totally asinine for a "fan" to froth at the mouth about their loyalty to team when they don't know how the game is played.
3. Keep your rivalries in perspective*.
*Plain and simple, we are fans of the schools we attended due to the happenstance, fate, or God that put us there. As such, it's good to remember that most of us were a scholarship or acceptance letter away from being fans of a different school. So remember that rivalries are a means for enjoying the game more and not a foundation on which to build your ego.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
One of those...huh...days
I'm having one of those days where I feel incredibly spacey. Whether it's for lack of sleep, stress, or just synapses failing to fire, I feel as if I can't concentrate on anything. (Seems like a good time to post to my blog, eh?) These are the days where you drive home and then cannot remember the last five minutes of your trip. The days where you forget why you walked into the kitchen and then forget what you were doing before you decided to walk into the kitchen. The days where you misplace the TV remote and find it in the fridge a few hours later. I chalk it up to a physical phenomenon I once read about called derealization or jamais vu, where the normal world suddenly appears abnormal to you. (I believe Vonnegut discusses this idea in Slaughterhouse Five). It's as if you look down, see your shoelaces are untied and when you stoop down to tie them, your mind suddenly goes blank. Your fingers freeze on the laces and you realize that you have no idea what to do. And someone could pay you a million dollars to finish but you still wouldn't be able to tie your shoes for the next ten seconds. It forces you to think about perception and remember that who we are depends on what day, hour, or minute you come upon us.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Once a runner...
There's an article in Slate today about John L. Parker's previously out-of-print book on long distance running, Once A Runner. (After reading it, I am tempted to hunt for the novel - which is apparently a task in itself). Anyway, as a sometimes-long-distance-runner, I think the description of the book's eponymous subject is spot on ---
"Like many cults, distance running has its mysteries, and The Secret — how you become a real runner — is Once a Runner's chief concern...But it turns out that The Secret is that there is no secret. The runner must pound the mileage, as we say. It's a grueling, tedious, insane lifestyle. So why do we keep doing it? To understand the answer, you have to understand a bit about distance running. For one thing, it helps to know that only non-runners talk about a "runner's high." It's not that it doesn't exist, that weird feeling of euphoria you sometimes get briefly after a tough day at the track or a superlong run. But no one could possibly be a runner just for the highs, whether brought on by natural chemicals or by winning a race. The running life is mostly just lots and lots and lots of miles. Only a few competitions punctuate the grind of thankless workouts on anonymous tracks, and you literally need a very loud gun to snap you out of the training existence and tell you it's time to save nothing for later. There simply isn't enough in the way of traditional rewards as compared with hard labor to make it worthwhile—that is, if you're only after the traditional rewards."
"Like many cults, distance running has its mysteries, and The Secret — how you become a real runner — is Once a Runner's chief concern...But it turns out that The Secret is that there is no secret. The runner must pound the mileage, as we say. It's a grueling, tedious, insane lifestyle. So why do we keep doing it? To understand the answer, you have to understand a bit about distance running. For one thing, it helps to know that only non-runners talk about a "runner's high." It's not that it doesn't exist, that weird feeling of euphoria you sometimes get briefly after a tough day at the track or a superlong run. But no one could possibly be a runner just for the highs, whether brought on by natural chemicals or by winning a race. The running life is mostly just lots and lots and lots of miles. Only a few competitions punctuate the grind of thankless workouts on anonymous tracks, and you literally need a very loud gun to snap you out of the training existence and tell you it's time to save nothing for later. There simply isn't enough in the way of traditional rewards as compared with hard labor to make it worthwhile—that is, if you're only after the traditional rewards."
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