SATURDAY, SEPT 29, 2001
I had forgotten just how beautiful Boston is in the fall. As I pulled
off of the aways-grinding Storrow Drive, I made a serendipitous turn onto
Charles Street in Beacon Hill. It put me exactly where I needed to be
relative to traffic and my destination. But more importantly, it gave
me the opportunity to drive through this historic part of town. The narrow,
windy streets lined with old brick buildings and brownstones are quintessential
Boston.
The leaves will be turning soon and the trees of New England will once more be ablaze. I once heard that New England has one of the best autumns in the world-- second only to Japan. It has to do with the concentration of maples which turn a brilliant yellow, then orange, then red.
Links:
http://www.mass-vacation.com
http://www.bostonusa.com
http://www.boston.com (.../weather)
http://www.boston-online.com/glossary.html
* * *
Another grueling (for me anyway), but exciting climb at Hammond Pond today. Here are some pictures from Laura's site from a previous trip, since I have none of my own.
FRIDAY, SEPT 28, 2001
Well, I'm a bit less angst-ridden today. Grr-eat. . . booey for me. Perhaps
because it's Friday and I know that mere hours separate me from the weekend.
Jen's outta town on wedding detail, so it looks like the fellas and I
are gonna get together.
* * *
And yet another infuriating incident today. I happened to overhear two women talking about how "you never know who's a terrorist" and that they didn't mind racial profiling. Well, of course not because it doesn't apply to them.
Bite your tongue, bite your tongue, bite your tongue. . . but you know I've got to say something. I cite the obligatory Timothy McVeigh example and ask if they went out and started profiling their own race after the Murra Building incident (indeed, a totally loaded question). I, then, asked if after the next IRA attack, if they would be willing to be subjected to racial profiling based on being Irish.
*crickets*
One quarter of Boston's population claims Irish ancestory, so we're talking about a lot of people. I could see how to a non-Christian being Catholic or Protestant is the same thing. But, I'm sure I accomplished zilch. I believe this topic to be a new addition to the trinity of anti-conversation: politics, abortion, or religion. Trying to sway someone's opinion on this is probably futile. Next time, better to bite my tongue.
* * *
Today's SFM brought to you by funny man Brian Crowley and the letter M.
THURSDAY, SEPT 27, 2001
As usual, I'm a bit surly today (great opener for you, dear reader). I
was thinking late this afternoon that I'm tired of living my life in such
a manner that minutes matter. I woke up late this morning, an innocent
enough thing, but I started calculating, in minutes, what I'd have to
forego to get through the rest of my day. The fact that I overslept was
not a big deal. It happens. Whattayagonnado? What bothered me was that
oversleeping completely altered my day. The meeting ran over by 22 minutes.
Cell phones were ringing, e-mails are beeping, eyes were watch-checking.
It was like the makings of a freakin' Calgon commercial. How irritating
is it to have a conversation with a person who is clearly trying to walk
away? Not out of rudeness, but because she has to get to another meeting
led by her head chimp.
To point out the obvious, I will simply never have enough time. You will never have enough time. So, for the first time in more weeks than I care to remember, I flipped my computer the bird and I left my bag half packed on the chair.
WEDNESDAY, SEPT 26, 2001
Sweet Fancy Moses continues
to impress me. I found today's
piece to be particularly poignant, though not very funny. The submissions
are usually quite funny, but it might take a week or so before it gets
back into the swing of things. It's tag line is "an online journal
of wit" in the truest sense of the word.
I cannot get motivated to finish building this Weblog. I suppose that
it's bad form to post on a partially site, but I'm re-thinking whether
I'm going to have all these crazy links to other pages. I think I'm going
to keep it simple. My favorite Weblogs stay true to the writing and tend
to skip the links and all that other bother. If you want to see the
navigation, go to the very bottom of this page and mouseover the area
just above the Webtrends images. Let me know what you think. Do you
give a shit? I'd like to know what you think. Like I said, it's not all
built yet, so the links may lead to nothing.
E-me your thoughts.
MONDAY, SEPT 24, 2001
I noticed that I felt much better today. Like many of you, I've felt a
mild depression for the past two weeks, but today I feel lighter, like
I'm ready to move forward.
The flags are at full mast once more. I'll tell you, I never noticed before just how beautiful the American flag looks blowing in the wind. Hearing the russel of heavy canvas and the occasional snap from each gust of wind sent shivers down my spine.
Even though, it still spooks me when I see a big pick-up truck with a full-sized flag in tow.
SUNDAY, SEPT 23, 2001
Finished Watership
Down. I've probably read this three or four times since high school,
but it still remains an amazing book. Now, on to Fast
Food Nation or Ha Jin's The
Bridegroom. I've yet to decide.
By the way, if anyone's read, or knows anything about, Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, please e-mail me and let me know what you think.
SATURDAY, SEPT 22, 2001 -
Hammond Pond, Chestnut Hill, MA
I went rock climbing for the first time. Man, what a trip! You're perfectly
safe on solid ground. Inexplicably, it seems like a good idea to scale
a sheer rock face that was doing juuuuust fine until you walked along,
sonny. Sounds really stupid until you try it. But, what a rush. I have
to do it again. And more than likely many times after that.
O Brother, Where Art
Thou, video, Coen Brothers
Funny, funny movie, though I must admit that this one blew straight over
my head. I'll have to see it again.
THURSDAY, SEPT 20, 2001 - A friend found
I got the long awaited call from an unaccounted for friend in NYC who
I had lost touch with in the last five years. I didn't believe her to
be in any imminent danger, but I had to be sure. She's that friend
you go in and out of touch with over the years, but every time you talk
to her, you know why she's on your "A" list.
Re: Bush's Presidental Address to Congress. . . Hold me.
WEDNESDAY, SEPT 19, 2001 -
Nimda Worm
Yep, I got nailed. I'm definitely changing from McAfee's Viruscan back
to Norton Antivirus. I did this because I was pissed about the for-pay
DAT updates. Anyhow, right after I downloaded the latest virus definition
for McAfee, I ran a scan that caught 8 infected files. I ran it two more
times and got nothing.
On a whim, I loaded Norton Antivirus and ran it again and caught two
more. This put me over the edge. I'm fed up with McAfee's pop up ads and
clumsy SuperDAT wizard.
• Symantec's Nimda removal
instructions.
• Virus Hoaxes resource.
Use this the next time you get one of those paranoid mass e-mails about
the next generation worm that's going to jump species and propogate in
your colon.
* * *
So, my father's been staying with me since Sunday the 9th. He was scheduled
to fly out of Logan on Wednesday the 12th , but for obvious reasons that
didn't happen.
I've really enjoyed having him around but at times he's tortured me like only a parent can: the incessant questions, the unsolicited advice, the chauffeuring, more questions. Our place is pretty big for two people, but clearly not three.
The in-laws are coming for Christmas. Though I only have the capacity to host either set of parents but once a year, I cannot complain to my wife. What an angel she's been.
MONDAY, SEPT 17, 2001
Read Caterina's Friday, 09.14.01
entry, letter from an Afghani-American writer.
SUNDAY, SEPT 16, 2001
It continues to discourage me that the media insist on editorializing
in language and delivery. Just report the news. I'll form my own opinions.
Unfortunately, news, as reported, is often considered truth. Reporters'
opinions are construed as facts. How very dangerous for a sound bites
culture.
Yesterday, I heard the one voice of reason, a young boy on the street
who pointed out that no one knows for sure who committed these acts. Based
on what's being reported and rhetoric from the President, I guess I have
to conclude that Osama bin Laden is at the helm of this plot. What's troubling
me, though, is that no one can meaningfully explain why it must
be bin Laden. In detail. On Meet the Press, Dick Cheney was asked
this very question and his repsonse was most unsatisfactory. If it's a
matter of national security to keep a lid on things, well that's fine,
but tell us so.
Meanwhile in street interviewers, people are calling for military action with almost wanton bloodlust packaged in neat little sound clips feeding the fires of anger. Though this reaction may be understandable, it's doubtful that these people are looking at the potential loss of human life, theirs AND ours. And, let's not be NIMBYs here. I'm also opposed to war because I am unwilling to fight in one, especially in my back yard. You probably are too, you tough-talking, twenty-something, double skinny latte twit. (No, not you. You know what I mean.)
War creates instability in financial markets too. This affects our day-to-day lives. The price of stocks, bonds, commodities like gas, the rubber squishy thing you buy for your dog-- everything. Jobs. Some things are more important than money? How about your ability to feed, clothe, and transport your family?
On the domestic front, I can not believe all the hatred directed toward Arab-Americans. Isn't it inscribed on the Statue of Liberty: Bring us your tired, your weak, your huddled masses yearning to be free. That means EVERYONE, friend.
"Send them all back. Bomb them all", are the battle cries I've heard. People are blaming those that have nothing to do with what happened. Perhaps Arab-Americans have come to this country for a better life just like my parents or your great grandparents before you. Perhaps Afghanis may have come here to flee what's happening in Afghanistan right now- an oppressive government and an abysmal human rights record. We betray them now and we betray the very words etched on Lady Liberty.
Even Southeast Asians and Indians are being harassed. Sure, some are probably Muslims. Most probably are not. But, why are they being harassed, beaten, and threatened?
It so happens that Islam is a peaceful religion. The mistake being made is all Muslims being considered Islamic fundamentalists, in which a few radical elements cast a dark shadow over an entire group. That's like blaming all Christians for the bombing of an abortion clinic by one right-wing nut. You see, the key word here is "fundamentalist". Being a fundamentalist of anything can't be good. "Fundamentalist" seems to be reserved for zealots, left or right, who often narrowly interpret the source for their ideology. Examine world history for your proof.
It's likely that Arabs, like your forefathers and mine, came to this country for a better life. This is the land of opportunity for everyone. Not just for people of Western European descent. In Korean, the word for America is mi gook- beautiful country. It represents an ideal envied by the world. It's supposed to be that if you work hard and have a bit of luck, you're bound to have a good life. A good life relative to the one you may have left behind, anyway. And that's the so-called American dream. That can't be naiveté because it happens every day.
FRIDAY, SEPT 14, 2001 -
Re: Human Evolution
I'm pondering the words that my friend, Ken, said to me. "We have
failed as a species because we kill each other because of skin pigmentation.
Because we think differently from one another."
Isn't that supposed to be the gift of being a human being?
TUESDAY, SEPT 11, 2001
- Re: WTC/Pentagon Crashes
My concerns about the ramifications of today's event are many. First and
foremost, how can this happen on American soil? This issue is most unsettling
for me. Things like this happen in "other" parts of the world,
far away from me, and more like video games on TV.
Secondly, I've heard a lot of inflammatory language being thrown around
on TV, radio, the internet, and especially around the watercoolers and
it's shameful. Suddenly everyone's a policy or terrorism expert. I heard
a radio show host openly advocate the use of "nukes". Right,
because a discriminating weapon such as a nuclear warhead would certainly
punish only a small group of offenders.
Thirdly, what about the safety of Arab-Americans. They've got about as
much to do with this as the Nisei Japanese Americans did with Pearl Harbor.
Hate will be further fueled by irrationality and racism.
Lastly, what about the safety of my fellow Americans? What do these events
mean for the stability of the world? Obviously, attacking the financial,
military, and psychological fabric of American society is not going to
go unanswered. This is a battle that the offender will probably lose,
which leads me to believe that they are not concerned with winning or
losing. Only hurting. Perhaps bombs will be raining over Afghanistan,
or where ever. Some are going to miss their targets. But they'll hit something.
SATURDAY, SEPT 08, 2001-
Harvard Square
Jen and I met up with our friends at the Border Cafe, but the wait was
about 90 minutes. As usual, people were spilling out of the restaurant
and into the street, so we decided to try Fire and Ice, which only had
a 45 minute wait. Now, this place is a pretty fru fru restaurant serving
microbrews. I opted for a straight forward jambalaya, but the others got
items that looked less like food and more like sculpture. Don't get me
wrong, I like pretty looking food. But you've gotta pay for that. Later,
we went to Red Bones, noted for its barbecue, and it's one of those no-frills
places where rudeness is part of the schtick.
Later that evening, Andy and I got into it about the concept of time.
We all tend to look at our lives in terms of human time i.e. the things
that happen to us day by day, year by year, and decade by decade. We can
barely fathom centuries, millennia, and epochs. Try thinking in geologic
time-- the time it takes a mountain range to rise to Everest's mighty
summit and weather down to flatness again. Or try cosmic time-- the time
it takes to reach the outer reaches of space. The Universe began 15 billion
years ago from a speck and will continue to grow until its own gravitational
pull will then reverse the process and slam itself into nothingness again.
Imagine this cycle and the amount of time it takes to expand and contract,
expand and contract, continuously. Eternity.
So here I am pondering the immensity of this when Andy chimes in, "you know the Stoics believed that every point in time is just repeating what has already occurred, and that has happened and continue to happen an infinite amount of times. Our conclusion for the Stoics? What's the point of your life? Your puny existence? Ah ha, the conversation takes a wickedly dangerous turn. Once again this Existential line of thinking rears it's ugly head and I must suppress it. If you start examining your purpose in life, you may ultimately conclude that there isn't one. And once you conclude that, I'd say it's pretty hard to go back. Best to avoid that landmine.
Existentialism?!! Ppffff! So I said fuck it and ordered up an overpriced rootbeer float and contemplated the unlikely synergy of vanilla ice cream and rootbeer. It tasted great!
THURSDAY, SEPT, 2001- The Supermarket
Wanna go to a place that will simultaneously make you feel great about
yourself and make you loathe others to the point of plotting an elaborate
murder/suicide?
Customer Service-- could there be a bigger misnomer? I frequent the local
Stop N Shop near my office and it has arguably the worst service anywhere.
I wouldn't bother to patronize this market if not for it being only 100
steps from my office's front door. If it were just three blocks further,
I'd probably avoid it. This is a place where the service personnel talk
smack about the customers to each other, *while* said customers are standing
in their presence. However, I've gone weeks without having a verbal exchange
with the same checkout girl. Which turns out to be just fine. She's usually
talking about her sexual exploits to the pimply-faced bagger dude inexplicably
brandishing a pager and cell phone. What could he need to talk about while
bagging that couldn't wait? On days that he's not present, I may enjoy
the steady smacking of a well-worn piece of bubble gum. Tres sweet, my
friends. Tres sweet. Then I will have my change tossed to me across the
counter. Don't ask for a manager. Nothing like a defensive clerk-turned-manager
on a power trip.
And the patrons-- don't get me started. Is it me or do people shamelessly
come to the market looking their worst? Why is it that middle-aged women
feel compelled to where spandex? Why must she then bring half a cart of
items to the express lane and then impatiently sigh when I try to use
my ATM card to pay for my 5 items. Why doesn't she focus on quieting her
screaming kids who have been torturing me since aisle 6? I tend to silently
bear the dreaded check-out line each time, but during one instance I absolutely
blew my top. The stretchy-pantsed woman above was doing the sigh thing--
the hard, repeated sighs of impatience that can make an entire lane of
people irritable. I turned to her and said, "Take it easy, lady. Are you
in that bigga hurry to get back to your shitty little life?"
And there it is. . . I have become what I loathe.
In college, I used to enjoy going to the supermarket. My sister and I
would go at 3 or 4 in the morning and the worst thing was the steady
hum of the floor waxer. I'd pass other students and we exchange knowing
nods. Or maybe we were all just wasted. Food is cool. Shoppers are not.
*Poof* My bitterness just melted away with this sentence. Wow, that's
all it took. A blog entry with an audience of none.
