Showing posts with label Anecdotes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anecdotes. Show all posts
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Measurements
The gap by which the distance between myself and my friends is measured uses increments like, "Children," "Weddings," "Long-Term Partners," "Careers," "Buying A House," and, "So, has anyone here read the new Mike Mignola Comic?"
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Self Deception
Lying To Ourselves.
According to this segment (and the research supporting it), people who are better at self deception, can modify the way they see the world (and themselves), and are generally more successful, richer, and happier in their own lives. Those who have difficulty in lying to themselves, and thus see the world as it really is, tend to have trouble being happy, and find it difficult to be successful in the same ways that liars are.
I find it interesting that there is evidence that supports something that anyone suffering from depression could have told you ages ago: the balance between being disingenuous and being honest is the surface tension that binds humanity.
According to this segment (and the research supporting it), people who are better at self deception, can modify the way they see the world (and themselves), and are generally more successful, richer, and happier in their own lives. Those who have difficulty in lying to themselves, and thus see the world as it really is, tend to have trouble being happy, and find it difficult to be successful in the same ways that liars are.
I find it interesting that there is evidence that supports something that anyone suffering from depression could have told you ages ago: the balance between being disingenuous and being honest is the surface tension that binds humanity.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
My Hero
According to Wikipedia:
Due to the top secret nature of the work [on the Manhattan Project], Los Alamos was isolated. In Feynman's own words, "There wasn't anything to do there". Bored, he indulged his curiosity by learning to pick the combination locks on cabinets and desks used to secure papers. In one case he found the combination to a locked filing cabinet by trying the numbers a physicist would use (27-18-28 after the base of natural logarithms), and found that the three filing cabinets where a colleague kept a set of research notes all had the same combination. He left a series of notes as a prank, which initially spooked his colleague into thinking a spy or saboteur had gained access to atomic bomb secrets.That is definitely one way to relieve boredom. What a fucking stud.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Does This Make Me A Horrible Person?
Dear Drunk Skater Kids (that decided that 3 AM last night in the lot across the street from me was a good place to shred):I know I seem old to you, but I swear, I'm totally hip. Not only do I have a skating tattoo (a flaming skull with crossed boards underneath, no less), but I own the complete works of JFA and McRad, too. While my board was knicknamed the "Laz-Y-Boy" by my friends (because I used it mostly for cruising than for tricks), it is adorned with a nice Motörhead sticker, which comforted me when I bruised my tailbone after a skating accident (I was drunk), and was laid up for a couple of days. What I'm saying is, this pretty much rules out any possible doubt of my sk8 cred (or impeccable taste).
However, my ability to sleep at night is iffy at best, and as it is the weekend before finals, it is imperative that I actually get eight hours of sleep. Especially since I've been having trouble sleeping all week given the city's decision to fix the sewer pipes outside my window at 4 AM the other day, and the added reality that I quit drinking this year, and no longer have a pint of whiskey in me every night before bed.
So, when I get on your case about how you need to, "Get the fuck out out my neighborhood so I can get some sleep!" I'm not saying it to be a stuffy old dude who doesn't understand, but rather as someone who has been tossing and turning every night this week, and really needs to be fresh so I can hammer out a pair of papers and finish my portfolio, all due Wednesday. I know you guys were having a good time, and I totally applaud that. Keep up the good work.
Just do it somewhere that isn't right outside my window, please.
(And for the record: your skills aren't that impressive; no, you're the douche, and she had every reason to dump your ass if you talk about her like that; and for Earl's sake, there's better swill than mancans of Icehouse. You're skaters, not assholes.)
Thank you for your time.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Intentionally Scary Encounter?
My yoga class got canceled today, which meant I had a little more free time on campus today than I thought I would. So, I thought I'd find a place near where my next class was to sit and read, but was feeling a little antsy, and decided to explore. My next class is on the second floor of Neuberger Hall, which is the "art" floor, where the Autzen Gallery was. So, I thought I'd poke my head in to see what was showing.First, the show that was up was for something called The M.O.S.T. I won't even try to explain it, except that you might want to check it out if you're into, uhm, office art? Well, not really. Bureaucratic art? Sort of. Art art? Maybe. Anyway, it was there, and I really liked the rubber stamp collection.
It turned out, though, that the artist in question (Katy Asher) was giving an impromptu tour to various PSU folks, which seemed somewhat official, so I tried to stay out of the way and just look around. However, Harrell Fletcher was also part of this group, and really creeped me out by calling me (by name), and asked me what I thought of it all. I've met him one other time, when I attended a talk he gave about the work he's done over the years. (He and I got into a coversation about living next to schools where the neighbors all complained about the fact there was a school there.) I figured he not only wouldn't remember me at all, but since I wasn't connected to anyone at the show (or him, for that matter), he would have no reason to talk to me. Apparently not.
I tried my best to answer his questions, but he kept looking at me in a way that made me feel like I wasn't giving the right answers. (Despite the fact that I knew there weren't any.) I suddently started to feel really self-conscious about everything, like, perhaps I wasn't supposed to be there. I started to notice that everyone's eyes were on me, now, really listening to everything I said. It was really uncomfortable, and then Katy started to grill me, too. I quickly made an excuse to leave, and went to the third floor to hide out until my class started.
However, with hindsight, I wonder: was that part of the art show?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Woah. Weird.
The weather is actually too nice to actually find anything wrong, today.
If this keeps up, I might actually have to start smiling again.
If this keeps up, I might actually have to start smiling again.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mother's Day
To all the brothers, lovers, & folks with their druthers on the level, remember the immortal words of Mr. T:
"Treat her right. Treat your mother right."
Saturday, May 9, 2009
The Smallest Thing That's Known To Man
We live in an old, weird, drafty, noisy, and otherwise poorly constructed house, completed in 1900 (according to the city records). While most of the modern conveniences of the 20th Century have been crufted onto it's weak and aged frame, every time I take a shower I am instantly reminded of the first few lines of a song by Lorne Elliott (which I originally heard as a youth on a Dr. Demento tape a friend of mine forwarded to me in school one day):
"The smallest thing that's known to man's a subatomic particle measured scientifically under lab conditions to be ten centimeters taken to the minus thirteenth power / But though that's very small, it's really not that small at all compared to the line that is ever so fine, that separates the hot from the cold on the handle of my shower."
I can't vouch for the rest of the song being accurate, but dammit, he nailed that bit.
"The smallest thing that's known to man's a subatomic particle measured scientifically under lab conditions to be ten centimeters taken to the minus thirteenth power / But though that's very small, it's really not that small at all compared to the line that is ever so fine, that separates the hot from the cold on the handle of my shower."
I can't vouch for the rest of the song being accurate, but dammit, he nailed that bit.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
An Old Addage
At 9 AM today, over breakfast, I ran into a large, very young, co-ed group of nursing students. They were hammered. Their conversation went along these lines:
1.) Whom Had Slept With How Many, And Which, Of Their Classmates
2.) Rage Over The Behavior Of Certain Classmates (Probably Related To #1)
3.) Rage Over The Behavior Of Their Teachers
4.) Inarticulate Yelling At Each Other, Followed By Sudden Extreme Silence
5.) "Dude, Fuck! Fuck, Dude!"
6.) The Women Calling The Men Assholes, The Men Calling The Women Bitches.
7.) "I Am So Wasted."
8.) Discussions About What Homework They Hadn't Done, And How To Overcome That.
9.) Sudden Realizations Regarding Who Had To Go To Work Later That Day.
10.) Etc., Etc., Etc.
When I finally got up to leave, they proceeded to point and laugh at me, then called me over so they could take a look at me. (I was wearing a bow tie, a dress shirt, and a suit jacket with a few buttons attached.) They then looked to each other for a consensus regarding the next bar they would go to.
When I used to drink a lot, occasionally I would run into an older gent who would make the observation, "I hate drinking holidays, because it brings out all the amateurs." I feel like I never fully understood that statement until this morning.
1.) Whom Had Slept With How Many, And Which, Of Their Classmates
2.) Rage Over The Behavior Of Certain Classmates (Probably Related To #1)
3.) Rage Over The Behavior Of Their Teachers
4.) Inarticulate Yelling At Each Other, Followed By Sudden Extreme Silence
5.) "Dude, Fuck! Fuck, Dude!"
6.) The Women Calling The Men Assholes, The Men Calling The Women Bitches.
7.) "I Am So Wasted."
8.) Discussions About What Homework They Hadn't Done, And How To Overcome That.
9.) Sudden Realizations Regarding Who Had To Go To Work Later That Day.
10.) Etc., Etc., Etc.
When I finally got up to leave, they proceeded to point and laugh at me, then called me over so they could take a look at me. (I was wearing a bow tie, a dress shirt, and a suit jacket with a few buttons attached.) They then looked to each other for a consensus regarding the next bar they would go to.
When I used to drink a lot, occasionally I would run into an older gent who would make the observation, "I hate drinking holidays, because it brings out all the amateurs." I feel like I never fully understood that statement until this morning.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
I Can't Leave Well Enough Alone
For some reason I keep reading the campus paper, even though I know logically that there's no reason to. It's immature, inaccurate, and extremely frustrating for anyone who pays attention to anything that happens off campus. And, yet again, I found an article the other day ("Don't Tweet Me") that was just too much, and wrote another letter to the editor. (I'm becoming just like Grandpa Simpson, spending all my time writing letters of complaint about things only I care about.) And, to round things out completely (again), they choose not to publish it. Which is, as they say, lame for them, but not for you:
[With regards to Twitter]: While the history of deriding new technologies merely because they are "new" goes back to the "written language vs. oral tradition" argument way back when, I feel that it's somewhat irresponsible to claim this new one is so incredibly terrible, based on the evidence provided by one study of social networking services. There is so much new information about the human mind and how it relates to technology, that outmoded notions such as this paint the image of a Luddite more than anything else.
In the Februray, 2009 issue of "Discover" magazine, one of the biggest stories was about how Google & other new technologies are actually making humans smarter by presenting information in byte (no pun intended) sized chunks. ("How Google Is Making Us Smarter" Feb. 2009). David Crystal's new book, "Txtng: The Gr8 Db8," not only addresses the issues of technophobes who think that technology is ruining our lives, but points out that people who are avid texters tend to be more literate than other people of the same age. Even Steven Johnson's "Everything Bad Is Good For You" is now almost five years old, and after his hundreds of radio, TV, & news appearances, you would think that the myth that "technology is destroying our children" would long ago have been put to rest.
This opinion piece also misses a huge point about what Twitter is: just because the posts are limited to 140 characters, this doesn't mean people only read 140 characters of text before they quit. Twitter, like all blogging tools, allow users to subscribe to feeds that offer everything posted to that feed, not just the most recent entry. CNN uses Twitter for their news feeds, and almost every paper with an online presence (including yours) has started using some sort of blogging tool, often big name ones like Twitter. Ashton Kutcher, while vapid and obnoxious himself, makes a good point in asserting that this is encouraging, rather than discouraging, people to read. Most of the current journalism points to that notion as well.
It's definitely food for thought, anyway. I'm not suggesting that we should all join Twitter, and that it isn't a sign of shallowness or stupidity. But I do think that it's a little hypocritical to mock a technology that your paper avidly uses.
[With regards to Twitter]: While the history of deriding new technologies merely because they are "new" goes back to the "written language vs. oral tradition" argument way back when, I feel that it's somewhat irresponsible to claim this new one is so incredibly terrible, based on the evidence provided by one study of social networking services. There is so much new information about the human mind and how it relates to technology, that outmoded notions such as this paint the image of a Luddite more than anything else.
In the Februray, 2009 issue of "Discover" magazine, one of the biggest stories was about how Google & other new technologies are actually making humans smarter by presenting information in byte (no pun intended) sized chunks. ("How Google Is Making Us Smarter" Feb. 2009). David Crystal's new book, "Txtng: The Gr8 Db8," not only addresses the issues of technophobes who think that technology is ruining our lives, but points out that people who are avid texters tend to be more literate than other people of the same age. Even Steven Johnson's "Everything Bad Is Good For You" is now almost five years old, and after his hundreds of radio, TV, & news appearances, you would think that the myth that "technology is destroying our children" would long ago have been put to rest.
This opinion piece also misses a huge point about what Twitter is: just because the posts are limited to 140 characters, this doesn't mean people only read 140 characters of text before they quit. Twitter, like all blogging tools, allow users to subscribe to feeds that offer everything posted to that feed, not just the most recent entry. CNN uses Twitter for their news feeds, and almost every paper with an online presence (including yours) has started using some sort of blogging tool, often big name ones like Twitter. Ashton Kutcher, while vapid and obnoxious himself, makes a good point in asserting that this is encouraging, rather than discouraging, people to read. Most of the current journalism points to that notion as well.
It's definitely food for thought, anyway. I'm not suggesting that we should all join Twitter, and that it isn't a sign of shallowness or stupidity. But I do think that it's a little hypocritical to mock a technology that your paper avidly uses.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Open Letter To The Editor
Yesterday, the Daily Vanguard - the campus MOR paper that isn't actually a daily - gave a B- review to the movie Robocop (referring to it rather negatively), and also managed to refer to William S. Burroughs as just another "crazy" person. Kids these days. I felt it was my duty to write a letter to the editor, which, sadly, they choose not to print. Fortunately for you, dear reader, I saved a copy:
Dearest Daily Vanguard
RE: Arts & Culture Corrections
I take extreme offense with two things mentioned in the April 15th issue of the Vanguard. First, on page 4, the film Robocop is described as part of the "retro kitsch genre," and, contrary to popular belief, the title does not, "say it all." Robocop is a brilliant satire, directed by the Dutch master Paul Verhoeven, and is nothing short of a cinematic masterpiece that has proven itself over, again and again. This film sets the stage for his other incredible social commentaries, Basic Instinct, Starship Troopers, and Showgirls, (all stupendous statements in their own right) and for people with discerning taste and an eye for what was wrong in America circa late '80's / early '90's, Verhoeven's films are note-perfect in virtually every way (and telegraphed much of the new comic book / action genre that is popular now). While I appreciate the Vanguard's attempt to briefly draw attention to one of the most important films ever made by human beings, the demeaning context and low rating is something you should be ashamed of.
Second: it is unwise for anyone - even in an opinion piece - to refer to a man who owned as many guns as William S. Burroughs did, as "Crazy Person Of The Week." Even if he is dead now. Trust me, it's just a bad idea. Not only does this open up a whole can of right-wing, NRA issues that can't possibly be resolved in any single issue of the Vanguard, but personalities like Burroughs tend to attract lots of fans, who all own lots of guns. Do the math; I attribute my longevity so far to Ginger Ale twice daily, and saying only nice things about people who own lots of guns. Call me crazy, but that's how I plan to survive into the 22nd Century.
Thank you for your time.
Dearest Daily Vanguard
RE: Arts & Culture Corrections
I take extreme offense with two things mentioned in the April 15th issue of the Vanguard. First, on page 4, the film Robocop is described as part of the "retro kitsch genre," and, contrary to popular belief, the title does not, "say it all." Robocop is a brilliant satire, directed by the Dutch master Paul Verhoeven, and is nothing short of a cinematic masterpiece that has proven itself over, again and again. This film sets the stage for his other incredible social commentaries, Basic Instinct, Starship Troopers, and Showgirls, (all stupendous statements in their own right) and for people with discerning taste and an eye for what was wrong in America circa late '80's / early '90's, Verhoeven's films are note-perfect in virtually every way (and telegraphed much of the new comic book / action genre that is popular now). While I appreciate the Vanguard's attempt to briefly draw attention to one of the most important films ever made by human beings, the demeaning context and low rating is something you should be ashamed of.
Second: it is unwise for anyone - even in an opinion piece - to refer to a man who owned as many guns as William S. Burroughs did, as "Crazy Person Of The Week." Even if he is dead now. Trust me, it's just a bad idea. Not only does this open up a whole can of right-wing, NRA issues that can't possibly be resolved in any single issue of the Vanguard, but personalities like Burroughs tend to attract lots of fans, who all own lots of guns. Do the math; I attribute my longevity so far to Ginger Ale twice daily, and saying only nice things about people who own lots of guns. Call me crazy, but that's how I plan to survive into the 22nd Century.
Thank you for your time.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
New Problem
You can pretty much count on me becoming extremely irritable and frustrated if you combine consumer culture with hip fashion, and those two things came to a head two weekends ago when I went Shopping (with a capital S) for the first time in almost 8 years. In my adult life I've managed to cultivate an extremely economic sense of fashion: old sweaters, cast-off polo shirts, bow ties, pants (occasionally funky, most often utilitarian), and whatever pair of shoes is lying around and, more importantly, creates the illusion of fitting properly. For the longest time, in my mind, clothes merely covered my body to avoid public nudity and shame, and even after I gradually came to accept the fact that Clothes Make The Man (and, sadly, they do say a lot more about you than you actually do), I settled on a look that did not appear too pretentious, overly flashy, and more to the point, seemed to speak to who I am. When all is said and done, I am a bookish awkward kind of guy, and so the pocket protectors and clunky, ill-fitting shoes were all just an extension of that.
However, now I have some Clothes (with a capital C, with the help of The Judge who has a sense for these kinds of things), and in some cases, they are even sort of hip in a, "well, that was really cool a few years back," kinda way. Now, supplementing my Freaks & Geeks ensembles, I have a fair amount of stuff that makes me look like I'm auditioning for a part on Life On Mars, minus the tough guy cop accents, and focusing more on the background characters who haven't yet earned their SAG Cards. (Full Disclosure: I have never seen the show, buy my sister - a big fan - keeps me abreast of all things TV, and this one actually sounds kinda funny in a really terrible kinda way. Thoughts?)
There was already a heavy 70's influence on my wardrobe, but now it is completely unavoidable. What used to be just a hint of mid-'70's teenage suburban youth creeping into my look has now transformed into hip-older-brother of mid-'70's teenage suburban youth, who not only spends most of his time, on the weekends, in "The City," but occasionally comes back with a Cheap Trick record and dilated pupils.
I don't know what is weirder to me: the fact that I bought clothes that I actually think are kinda cool (despite the fact that I'm still out of synch with even the more recent retro trends), or the fact that I now have this incredible urge to go shopping for clothes again for the first time in my life.
What can I say? "I can't keep up / I can't keep up / I can't keep up / Out of step with the world."
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Connections
It's always good to have friends in nearly every sphere of human existence, but sometimes those connections atrophy, leaving you with no access to, say, free day-old donuts, or the inside scoop on the next cool things going down in town (like, another bike-in movie theater in PDX, location and dates open TBA).
It hasn't been since I worked in the book mines back in the late '90's / early 2000's that I had a decent (and reasonably-priced) book connection, and while school has given me more than enough to do with regards to textual interfacing, I missed the joy that comes with acquiring new, inexpensive leisure-time books. (I have yet to find any joy in the academic past time of acquiring old, extremely-expensive and difficult-to-get-through books.)
Fortunately, one of my old roommates has scored a job at a warehouse sorting books for an amazon.com bookseller. (One of the independent sellers that uses the amazon.com interface to hock their wares.) This has been a two-fold boon for my friends and I: he has a paying job to keep a roof over his head, and we all get to rummage through his "Free Books" box every time they have a party.
I managed to walk out of a party with Libra by Don DeLillo, a cool '60's edition of The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells, and the Autumn 1972 issue of a really crazy academic journal called Horizon, which includes essays on "How Man Invented Cities," Michelangelo Antonioni's "L'avventura," and the life of Machiavelli.
Which worked out great for me; normally I leave a party feeling like I've lost something.
(P.S. If anyone's parents were academics and had a subscription to Horizon - or just happened to collect them in the '60's and '70's - I would very much be interested in working out a trade for back issues. Please and thank you.)
It hasn't been since I worked in the book mines back in the late '90's / early 2000's that I had a decent (and reasonably-priced) book connection, and while school has given me more than enough to do with regards to textual interfacing, I missed the joy that comes with acquiring new, inexpensive leisure-time books. (I have yet to find any joy in the academic past time of acquiring old, extremely-expensive and difficult-to-get-through books.)
Fortunately, one of my old roommates has scored a job at a warehouse sorting books for an amazon.com bookseller. (One of the independent sellers that uses the amazon.com interface to hock their wares.) This has been a two-fold boon for my friends and I: he has a paying job to keep a roof over his head, and we all get to rummage through his "Free Books" box every time they have a party.
I managed to walk out of a party with Libra by Don DeLillo, a cool '60's edition of The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells, and the Autumn 1972 issue of a really crazy academic journal called Horizon, which includes essays on "How Man Invented Cities," Michelangelo Antonioni's "L'avventura," and the life of Machiavelli.
Which worked out great for me; normally I leave a party feeling like I've lost something.
(P.S. If anyone's parents were academics and had a subscription to Horizon - or just happened to collect them in the '60's and '70's - I would very much be interested in working out a trade for back issues. Please and thank you.)
Monday, March 23, 2009
Back In The Day
Going to see Watchmen last night (more on that later), I couldn't help but remember one of my all-time favorite Onion headlines:
Other infamous episodes that have occurred during the couple's 18-month relationship include Tillich's August 1999 insistence that Jensen listen to all of side two of the Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat, his January 1999 failure to talk Jensen into visiting the grave of Philip K. Dick during a Colorado road trip, and his ongoing unsuccessful efforts to get her to read Alan Moore's Watchmen, a 1986 postmodern-superhero graphic novel she described as "a comic book about a big blue space guy" and that he calls "nothing less than a total, devastating deconstruction of virtually every archetype in the genre's history."
I don't know what appeals to me more: the fact that they managed to cover just about every base regarding this kind of relationship dynamic (omitting, obviously, the Area Boyfriend's insistence on going as The Prisoner for Halloween, and the Area Girlfriend stating that she didn't know who that was), or the fact that this is pretty much the way I interacted with my girlfriends for most of my life.
And now, I will do the dance of shame. Again.
Other infamous episodes that have occurred during the couple's 18-month relationship include Tillich's August 1999 insistence that Jensen listen to all of side two of the Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat, his January 1999 failure to talk Jensen into visiting the grave of Philip K. Dick during a Colorado road trip, and his ongoing unsuccessful efforts to get her to read Alan Moore's Watchmen, a 1986 postmodern-superhero graphic novel she described as "a comic book about a big blue space guy" and that he calls "nothing less than a total, devastating deconstruction of virtually every archetype in the genre's history."
I don't know what appeals to me more: the fact that they managed to cover just about every base regarding this kind of relationship dynamic (omitting, obviously, the Area Boyfriend's insistence on going as The Prisoner for Halloween, and the Area Girlfriend stating that she didn't know who that was), or the fact that this is pretty much the way I interacted with my girlfriends for most of my life.
And now, I will do the dance of shame. Again.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Riding The Bus
I finally found the perfect sound accompaniment for riding the bus.
In my usual perusal of the Public Library, I was so completely shocked to find these two CDs that I practically cackled when I snatched them off the shelves, to be checked out.
It makes perfect sense: Traffic & Crowd Sound Effects CDs (produced by the BBC). My biggest complaint about the commute has been that, occasionally, the traffic on the street or the voices on the bus are so loud that I can't hear my music.
Now, if the sounds of people talking get too loud for me to hear the sounds of people talking on my iPod, somehow I'm not that concerned.
In my usual perusal of the Public Library, I was so completely shocked to find these two CDs that I practically cackled when I snatched them off the shelves, to be checked out.
It makes perfect sense: Traffic & Crowd Sound Effects CDs (produced by the BBC). My biggest complaint about the commute has been that, occasionally, the traffic on the street or the voices on the bus are so loud that I can't hear my music.
Now, if the sounds of people talking get too loud for me to hear the sounds of people talking on my iPod, somehow I'm not that concerned.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
That Guy
I became That Guy so gradually that it's really hard to say when, exactly, the transformation began. My question always becomes: which warning signs predate the others? In Cathead, we used to play a song called "Old Man Blues." But then there's reading about Grandpa Punk in Ramen City U.S.A., and my High School-aged Grumpy Old Man impersonations... when I was 13 my favorite song was "Kids" from Bye Bye Birdie.
It just goes on and on like that.
Anyway, now that the change is complete, I can at least help you with some of the tell-tale signs that you have become That Guy:
1.) Carries possessions in a cloth grocery bag instead of something more useful.
2.) Apparel includes: frayed fingerless gloves, bow ties, used-car-salesman jacket & bowling shoes one size too big.
3.) Oftentimes, primary mission on errands seems to involve the Public Library or buying fruits & vegetables. (Double Points if I combine them into one, unnecesarily elaborate mission.)
4.) iPod playlist includes: Miles Davis, Old-Time Radio recordings from the 40's, & NPR Podcasts.
5.) Can generally be found (during the daytime) waiting for a bus and complaining in a sort of Yosemite Sam kind of way about The Weather and The Traffic. Or both.
It just goes on and on like that.
Anyway, now that the change is complete, I can at least help you with some of the tell-tale signs that you have become That Guy:
1.) Carries possessions in a cloth grocery bag instead of something more useful.
2.) Apparel includes: frayed fingerless gloves, bow ties, used-car-salesman jacket & bowling shoes one size too big.
3.) Oftentimes, primary mission on errands seems to involve the Public Library or buying fruits & vegetables. (Double Points if I combine them into one, unnecesarily elaborate mission.)
4.) iPod playlist includes: Miles Davis, Old-Time Radio recordings from the 40's, & NPR Podcasts.
5.) Can generally be found (during the daytime) waiting for a bus and complaining in a sort of Yosemite Sam kind of way about The Weather and The Traffic. Or both.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Why Am I Not Surprised
Last term I went through a ridiculous series of Kafkan experiences with PSU, which involved (but was not limited to) being overcharged several times for services I never got, not receiving my financial aid due to clerical errors, lost pay checks (every single pay period, this term), bureaucratic policies that contradict other bureaucratic policies which make certain necesities impossible to accomplish, and a number of other lame problems that exist because people do not want to talk in person, nor do they want to deal with actual cash money.
I thought that Credit, combined with a lack of communication, caused this economic crisis in the first place. But, apparently, that hasn't gotten back to Corporate America yet.
My most recent frustration came in the form of an e-mail I got today, explaining that I could have received my Financial Aid check already if I had only explained to the dispersion company how I wanted to receive said check. (I shit you not: "We have a check for you, how do you want it?")
I called PSU and explained that since I started going to school four years ago, I have always received a check, and can't understand why they suddenly don't know that. PSU passed the buck, saying that they don't have access to their own students' Financial Aid information (!), but that the dispersion company does. (Why PSU doesn't have access to their own students records is only a small part of my confusion regarding this issue.)
After calling the dispersion company, I discovered that because they made a clerical error last term, and since I complained about not getting my check because of their error, they actually reset my account entirely to avoid making the same mistake twice. Rather than contact me and ask me how I'd like to get my money, they waited for the computer to catch the mistake as it was processing my refund, and they waited even longer for said computer to e-mail me, which in turn asked me to contact the dispersion company to set things straight. A mistake, I should point out, consisting of a several-tiered error THEY made.
Yeah. I'm sort of incredulous, too.
All of my attempts to point out how silly this was were met with complete confusion by the people I talked to on the phone. "What do you mean?" I mean, I said, how can someone who works in a job like this actually think this is a reasonable way to conduct business.
"Oh, I don't think about that stuff."
Right. Wasn't that the problem in the first place?
I thought that Credit, combined with a lack of communication, caused this economic crisis in the first place. But, apparently, that hasn't gotten back to Corporate America yet.
My most recent frustration came in the form of an e-mail I got today, explaining that I could have received my Financial Aid check already if I had only explained to the dispersion company how I wanted to receive said check. (I shit you not: "We have a check for you, how do you want it?")
I called PSU and explained that since I started going to school four years ago, I have always received a check, and can't understand why they suddenly don't know that. PSU passed the buck, saying that they don't have access to their own students' Financial Aid information (!), but that the dispersion company does. (Why PSU doesn't have access to their own students records is only a small part of my confusion regarding this issue.)
After calling the dispersion company, I discovered that because they made a clerical error last term, and since I complained about not getting my check because of their error, they actually reset my account entirely to avoid making the same mistake twice. Rather than contact me and ask me how I'd like to get my money, they waited for the computer to catch the mistake as it was processing my refund, and they waited even longer for said computer to e-mail me, which in turn asked me to contact the dispersion company to set things straight. A mistake, I should point out, consisting of a several-tiered error THEY made.
Yeah. I'm sort of incredulous, too.
All of my attempts to point out how silly this was were met with complete confusion by the people I talked to on the phone. "What do you mean?" I mean, I said, how can someone who works in a job like this actually think this is a reasonable way to conduct business.
"Oh, I don't think about that stuff."
Right. Wasn't that the problem in the first place?
Friday, December 12, 2008
Really?
When I was closing up the computer lab last night, I found a binder that a student had left behind. It happens all the time, actually, and with today being the last day for finals, I imagine some student was in a hurry to get to a party after his last test. I forget things all the time, and unless it's valuable, you don't have to worry about anything getting stolen.
So, no harm, no foul; I picked it up and went to put it in the Lost & Found box. As I set it down, I noticed that on the front was a huge, slightly torn Sublime sticker.
What? Sublime? Are they even still a thing? I mean, when was the last time you met an actual Sublime fan? At least, a big enough one to have a sticker on your binder for at least a year. In 2008. I mean, really?
Sometimes, I just don't get people.
So, no harm, no foul; I picked it up and went to put it in the Lost & Found box. As I set it down, I noticed that on the front was a huge, slightly torn Sublime sticker.
What? Sublime? Are they even still a thing? I mean, when was the last time you met an actual Sublime fan? At least, a big enough one to have a sticker on your binder for at least a year. In 2008. I mean, really?
Sometimes, I just don't get people.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Fighting The Symptoms
I try not to talk about the economic crisis, mostly because I don't know much about economics. Money has always been far too abstract for me to make clear sense of, and for most of my life I've had so little money, understanding it seemed somewhat moot. Doesn't do any good to try to understand something you'll never have enough of anyway. Better to stand in line for the gub-ment cheese and hope for the best.
However, one symptom I've noticed (with regards to the crisis) is a lack of humanity when dealing with the people on the other end of the counter. Modern life has afforded us many luxuries and new developments that, supposedly, make life easier. But as our finances have become more and more complicated in the 21st Century, more and more layers or banking have been added to the world around us, to help mediate the varied transactions we make in our lives. It was only within the last 30 years that the majority of people in America paid actual cash for nearly every transaction in their lives. Today, only the most sundry of purchases are paid for in that way. Money, for all intents and purposes, has become almost entirely electronic. And therein lies the problem.
To process the multitudes of electronic transactions that occur every day, there is a huge American workforce to handle the tasks. This creates an unusual dynamic with regards to the employee / customer relationship: where you used to always get something from a transaction like this (usually involving cash money or a service that was provided to you), now that everything is electronic, most transactions occur in the abstract. For example: I go to a counter to pay a bill. I hand over a card, it's swiped, and then handed back. No real money changed hands, and technically the service I got was that this clerk paid my bill for me. The actually service I was paying for is provided by an entirely other party, completely unrelated to the transaction that I'm involved in.
Weird, huh?
Now, the "counter" in the above example, is more often than not a phone these days, but the concept is the same. We make an abstract electronic payment to a third party person so another service we've received from someone else is now "covered." There are so many levels of removal from a real business interaction that it's easy to see how we achieved a financial crisis: people spend imaginary money to pay someone to process a service that we may or may not have gotten, regardless of the fact that we have real, actual money in the bank. Pretty soon, even the most diligent consumer, reaches a point when something doesn't add up at the end of the month.
Since school started in September, I've had three money snafu's with regards to PSU's Cashiering Department. That's one per month this term. (Provided, the term started at the end of September, and it's now the beginning of December.) First, PSU refused to accept a payment from me for a Dental Appointment, and yet wanted to penalize me for not making the payment. (I still don't understand that one.) Second, they mailed my Financial Aid check to my old address, after a full year of getting my checks at my current address. And then, today, I found out that PSU decided to mail my check to me rather than have me pick it up in the Cashier's Office, which goes against four years of picking up checks from PSU. (The fact that I could see the check sitting in an "outgoing" box behind the clerk didn't seem to matter. In the eyes of PSU, it was already out the building. No amount of begging could get her to give it to me.)
Now, I'm a fairly honest person who tries hard to be a good member of my community. I don't lie about important things, and I don't try to shirk my important responsibilities. I make efforts to pay my bills more or less on time, and outside of childhood indiscretions, have never stolen anything from anyone. This doesn't mean that I'm perfect, or that I don't make mistakes; actually, I probably screw up in some way once a day. I'm merely your average person trying to get by, day to day, with the hopes that I can achieve happiness and contentment in some form or another. More than anything, I have no interest in seeing other people suffer, nor do I feel like I shouldn't have sympathy for those around me.
What I find extremely interesting is that the current structure of the economy in America (and, I assume, most of the Westernized World) creates actual barriers toward allowing for a human understanding of these kinds of financial transactions. When I used to have to pay my bills in person, you developed a rapport with the clerks, and they sympathized with you when times were tough, or when something unusual occurred. Under the current structure, I can't even go to a counter anymore to pay my bills. PSU requires that you pay everything electronically, via their website. I can't even reach the same person twice when I call the Cashiering Office to complain, and when I call back a second time, there's never a record of the previous calls. I assume the (ironically) unwritten rule must be: If it's not written down, it no longer matters.
I've worked on the other side of the metaphoric counter at ACS (a company that handles farmed-out work from other corporate entities... another remove from the customer / service provided dynamic of the past). ACS tells you very specifically how to follow the correct corporate proceedures. Some of the rules at ACS included, "Never tell a customer that there is a manager that can field their question, even if there is one," and, "Even if they are in the right, you are never allowed to credit a customer's account." When a customer had actually been screwed over, and it was clear that we did the screwing, company policy mandated that I couldn't help them. The most I could do is listen to their problems, and say, "I'm sorry." Anything further could result in termination.
There came a point today, when I went to get my check, where the Kafkan nonsense of what was happening to me had reached its peak. The woman in front of me refused to escellate the problem to her superior, even after I asked her to. She explained that, even though I had been getting my checks at that window for four years, she had been in the Department for 18 months, and therefore, she should know better. I begged her to just hand me the check behind her, to which she replied that she would get fired for doing so. I finally posited the following scenario:
"So, what if I need to pay my rent, and because of this clerical error, I won't get my check for over a week. So now, I run the risk of being evicted during the week before finals. What do you think I should do?"
Her response: "Well, you should have thought ahead. I would drop out of school and look for a new place to live."
We have reached a point in our culture where we get paid to not care about those around us, at a time when we should be trying harder to be there for our community. I don't want to get lovey dovey and go live on a commune; I'm not even saying that we need to smash the current system and replace it with something better. (Though, I can't say I'm against that.) Just looking at the world rationally, I can't find a reason to not be concerned for the people around you. I got written up nearly every day I worked at ACS, because when a customer would ask for a little understanding, I dropped the performative role that I was being paid for, and honestly tried to find a way to work things out. There's no reason to spend your life at "counters," trying to defend yourself in a situation where you are poor and have no recourse. What possible harm can a poor person with no resources do to you? Now, look at the reverse of the situation: what can you do to help this person when they are at the end of their rope?
Can you really come up for an arguement to support being such an asshole?
In spite of everything, the woman at the counter today still refused to hand me my check. In frustration, I finally said, "Do you realize how inhumane your behavior is?" she looked at me and scowled.
"That's not my concern; I just work here."
I'm still in complete and total shock. Tonight, she will go home, open up her blog, talk about how well she did her job, eat a huge Middle Class Sized Dinner, and go to sleep feeling like a good member of her community.
My question is: is she? Am I the crazy one here?
However, one symptom I've noticed (with regards to the crisis) is a lack of humanity when dealing with the people on the other end of the counter. Modern life has afforded us many luxuries and new developments that, supposedly, make life easier. But as our finances have become more and more complicated in the 21st Century, more and more layers or banking have been added to the world around us, to help mediate the varied transactions we make in our lives. It was only within the last 30 years that the majority of people in America paid actual cash for nearly every transaction in their lives. Today, only the most sundry of purchases are paid for in that way. Money, for all intents and purposes, has become almost entirely electronic. And therein lies the problem.
To process the multitudes of electronic transactions that occur every day, there is a huge American workforce to handle the tasks. This creates an unusual dynamic with regards to the employee / customer relationship: where you used to always get something from a transaction like this (usually involving cash money or a service that was provided to you), now that everything is electronic, most transactions occur in the abstract. For example: I go to a counter to pay a bill. I hand over a card, it's swiped, and then handed back. No real money changed hands, and technically the service I got was that this clerk paid my bill for me. The actually service I was paying for is provided by an entirely other party, completely unrelated to the transaction that I'm involved in.
Weird, huh?
Now, the "counter" in the above example, is more often than not a phone these days, but the concept is the same. We make an abstract electronic payment to a third party person so another service we've received from someone else is now "covered." There are so many levels of removal from a real business interaction that it's easy to see how we achieved a financial crisis: people spend imaginary money to pay someone to process a service that we may or may not have gotten, regardless of the fact that we have real, actual money in the bank. Pretty soon, even the most diligent consumer, reaches a point when something doesn't add up at the end of the month.
Since school started in September, I've had three money snafu's with regards to PSU's Cashiering Department. That's one per month this term. (Provided, the term started at the end of September, and it's now the beginning of December.) First, PSU refused to accept a payment from me for a Dental Appointment, and yet wanted to penalize me for not making the payment. (I still don't understand that one.) Second, they mailed my Financial Aid check to my old address, after a full year of getting my checks at my current address. And then, today, I found out that PSU decided to mail my check to me rather than have me pick it up in the Cashier's Office, which goes against four years of picking up checks from PSU. (The fact that I could see the check sitting in an "outgoing" box behind the clerk didn't seem to matter. In the eyes of PSU, it was already out the building. No amount of begging could get her to give it to me.)
Now, I'm a fairly honest person who tries hard to be a good member of my community. I don't lie about important things, and I don't try to shirk my important responsibilities. I make efforts to pay my bills more or less on time, and outside of childhood indiscretions, have never stolen anything from anyone. This doesn't mean that I'm perfect, or that I don't make mistakes; actually, I probably screw up in some way once a day. I'm merely your average person trying to get by, day to day, with the hopes that I can achieve happiness and contentment in some form or another. More than anything, I have no interest in seeing other people suffer, nor do I feel like I shouldn't have sympathy for those around me.
What I find extremely interesting is that the current structure of the economy in America (and, I assume, most of the Westernized World) creates actual barriers toward allowing for a human understanding of these kinds of financial transactions. When I used to have to pay my bills in person, you developed a rapport with the clerks, and they sympathized with you when times were tough, or when something unusual occurred. Under the current structure, I can't even go to a counter anymore to pay my bills. PSU requires that you pay everything electronically, via their website. I can't even reach the same person twice when I call the Cashiering Office to complain, and when I call back a second time, there's never a record of the previous calls. I assume the (ironically) unwritten rule must be: If it's not written down, it no longer matters.
I've worked on the other side of the metaphoric counter at ACS (a company that handles farmed-out work from other corporate entities... another remove from the customer / service provided dynamic of the past). ACS tells you very specifically how to follow the correct corporate proceedures. Some of the rules at ACS included, "Never tell a customer that there is a manager that can field their question, even if there is one," and, "Even if they are in the right, you are never allowed to credit a customer's account." When a customer had actually been screwed over, and it was clear that we did the screwing, company policy mandated that I couldn't help them. The most I could do is listen to their problems, and say, "I'm sorry." Anything further could result in termination.
There came a point today, when I went to get my check, where the Kafkan nonsense of what was happening to me had reached its peak. The woman in front of me refused to escellate the problem to her superior, even after I asked her to. She explained that, even though I had been getting my checks at that window for four years, she had been in the Department for 18 months, and therefore, she should know better. I begged her to just hand me the check behind her, to which she replied that she would get fired for doing so. I finally posited the following scenario:
"So, what if I need to pay my rent, and because of this clerical error, I won't get my check for over a week. So now, I run the risk of being evicted during the week before finals. What do you think I should do?"
Her response: "Well, you should have thought ahead. I would drop out of school and look for a new place to live."
We have reached a point in our culture where we get paid to not care about those around us, at a time when we should be trying harder to be there for our community. I don't want to get lovey dovey and go live on a commune; I'm not even saying that we need to smash the current system and replace it with something better. (Though, I can't say I'm against that.) Just looking at the world rationally, I can't find a reason to not be concerned for the people around you. I got written up nearly every day I worked at ACS, because when a customer would ask for a little understanding, I dropped the performative role that I was being paid for, and honestly tried to find a way to work things out. There's no reason to spend your life at "counters," trying to defend yourself in a situation where you are poor and have no recourse. What possible harm can a poor person with no resources do to you? Now, look at the reverse of the situation: what can you do to help this person when they are at the end of their rope?
Can you really come up for an arguement to support being such an asshole?
In spite of everything, the woman at the counter today still refused to hand me my check. In frustration, I finally said, "Do you realize how inhumane your behavior is?" she looked at me and scowled.
"That's not my concern; I just work here."
I'm still in complete and total shock. Tonight, she will go home, open up her blog, talk about how well she did her job, eat a huge Middle Class Sized Dinner, and go to sleep feeling like a good member of her community.
My question is: is she? Am I the crazy one here?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Change Comes From Within... Wine Jugs.
In 1995 I found a gallon wine jug that wasn't being used anymore, mostly because my friends and I had drained it. I cleaned it, peeled the labels off, and immediately began putting my change in it.I was inspired to do so by a variety of people. My roommate, The Ramen City Kid, had a penny jar, and around this time my friend Justin was able to afford a trip to Europe funded by tips he'd saved in a jar. It seemed like the thing to do, and there was something very Country Mouse about saving money this way.
My problem, of course, was that I was almost always broke when I started this habit. For many years, the jar remained fairly empty. At the end of the month I would desperately need to buy food, so I'd spill the contents of the jar on my bed, pick out the silver, and survive for another few days. I would have idle fantasies that, someday, the jar would actually be full. What I would do with it when it was full, I couldn't say. But it would be a glorious day, indeed.
Flash-forward to three years ago. Suddenly, I noticed that I hadn't had to dig into the jar in quite some time. Not only was the level of coinage going up, but I was adding to it almost every day, and never needed to dip in anymore. Soon, the jar became almost too heavy to lift with one hand. I tried to forget that it was even money, and when I did think of it in those terms, I tried to pretend it was all pennies. For some reason, it didn't seem as valuable that way. In the back of my mind, it was my other other savings. For what, though, I wasn't sure.
Until I checked the balance of my account last week, and noticed that the economic crisis was finally hitting me, too. Normally this only happens at the end of the month, and I can sit a few days out of my usual routine and stick closer to the homestead. But this time, there just was no denying it. For the first time in years, I had to dip into the jar.
At first I was embarrassed. I had, finally, almost filled the jar, and was also concerned about having to carry large bags of coins with me to do my shopping. To my benefit, there is actually quite a bit in the jar now; I've been living off of it for the last week +, and the picture above was taken this morning. To my further surprise, everywhere I've gone has been really excited to see me pay in coins. "Oh, we need quarters! Thank you!" The fact that I'm still wearing residual pieces of my hobo costume from Halloween seems to add to the effect; hey, that jacket it warm!
As soon as I pull out the bag of coins, I get a huge laugh, and the same exchange takes place.
"Ha ha. You too, huh?"
"Yep."
It's amazing how many discounts you can get when everyone is in the same boat.
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