Calvin After Cal

2011-02-28T10:41:00.000-08:00

Calvin After Cal has moved to www.calvincohen.com.

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I Wanna Be Like You, Always

2011-02-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

“I wanna be like you

I wanna walk like you, talk like you, too”

- “I Wanna Be Like You” by Louis Prima

There are great Disney songs. Just look at that trio of films in the early 90s -- Beauty And The Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King -- for evidence. You’ve got “Belle” (which I always called “Bonjour”) in one, “Friend Like Me” in another, “Be Prepared” in yet another. I mean, if you look at the list of tracks from each of these it’s remarkable. The Lion King alone has a catalog that are featured in a now timeless Broadway musical, and they all sound remarkably fresh and wonderful. They’ve even inspired statistical analysis and debates about eggs and barges, back in the day.

But if I had to name one song as the greatest, I’d hands-down have to pick “I Wanna Be Like You” from The Jungle Book. Now to start the rationalization, I grew up watching The Jungle Book. It was probably my favorite Disney film as a young lad, although Toy Story was pretty good but that’s made by Pixar and not Disney. I think the storyline is wonderful in its simplicity, and the characters are thoroughly developed with intriguing and hilarious personalities. And you can see them all throughout this one song.

For instance, King Louie is a power-hungry ruler of other monkeys that forces his underlings to do things either for him or to not steal his spotlight. Mowgli is a naive child, wandering into the middle of situations and wanting to know what is happening. Bageera is a micromanaging panther, trying to devise plans to get people out of situations but really just cleaning up the messes of everyone else. Baloo is a buffoonish bear that likes to dance around, party, and scratch his back.

What gives this song, and The Jungle Book more broadly, its staying power is that the characters correspond to personality types in life. We’ve all exhibited aspects of King Louie at one point or another, beating a whiny, white haired little-upstart monkey with an oversized fern leaf so they don’t steal our trumpet solos. There are times when we are Baloo, opting to throw away the social norms in favor of dancing as an obviously dressed-up oversized orangutan. And then we always end up as Bageera, trying to help out our friends who were just dancing in love with a fake orangutan bear hybrid. This happens a lot these days.

However you don’t need the character subtexts to realize how great of a song this truly is. There hasn’t been a more lovable, delightful song that’s equally as sinister. Remember, the premise of the song is “Hey Mowgli, give me the secret to fire, or else.” But if you listen to a solely audio version, it’s entirely joyful. The trumpet solo that leads into the scat-ending is abrupt, but it makes you feel like a New Orleans brass band just turned the corner. And the scat back and forth that follows between Louis Prima and Phil Harris is utterly fantastic (although you can tell that one is actually a Jazz singer).

Someday I’m going to find the actual King Louie and give him the secret or Man’s red flower, and engage in song and dance with him. But until that day, I’ll keep enjoying this and the Big Bad Voodoo Daddy versions on my itunes.

The Constitutionality Of The Defense Of Marriage Act

2011-02-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

In a surprise move yesterday, the Obama Administration decided to no longer defend the constitutionality of the Defense of Marriage Act of 1996. It took me a while to comprehend the entirety this decision will have, in part because I don’t have a legal degree. So first it’s time to take a step back.

The Defense of Marriage Act was a law in 1996 that banned the recognition of same-sex marriages. That’s during the same era that Federal decisions came down like “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” So it seems like the Obama Administration is stepping behind this line of ideology entirely now. But there’s a bit more to their logical thinking than simply supporting Gay marriage (which they are doing indirectly).

There has been a lot of discussion within the Obama Administration regarding the precedence for such legislation that discriminates against gays. There are a couple of court cases pending that deal specifically with this case, and the Administration eventually decided it would not defend an issue that was obviously discriminatory and (based upon my insufficient legal knowledge yet somewhat sufficient historical knowledge) could be deemed in violation of the 14th Amendment.

Will the Obama Administration’s decision to no longer defend the Defense of Marriage Act prove beneficial to the cause of gay marriage? All sources point to “yes.” If nothing else, it’ll save taxpayer dollars by spending less federal monies on attorneys to defend the cases (please correct me if I’m wrong). It’s a shame that the Administration took nearly two years since the campaign, in which gay marriage was briefly discussed, to take such a strong stance against issues of discrimination against gays. I’m talking about this and the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” in the military.

What this action does not say is “there is a constitutional right to gay-marriage.” That is not, I repeat, not a position that the Obama Administration is taking in deciding to longer defend the Defense of Marriage Act. Yet they aren’t moving further away from that position by making this decision. They stated that they will help other parties who are interested in defending the constitutionality of this Act. However no longer supporting the Defense of Marriage Act’s constitutionality is important, especially for another reason.

Deciding to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act is a strong strategy for controlling the national discussion. The Obama Administration is trying to shift the issue at hand away from union rights, hotly debated (that’s obviously putting it lightly) in states like Wisconsin and Indiana, and soon to be in states like Ohio. If Obama did tackle that issue and take a hard-line against Governor Scott Walker of Wisconsin, it could potentially be damaging to other governors that rely heavily on state unions. Examples include Jerry Brown and Andrew Cuomo, for starters.

So along with tacking toward an ideological stance, it’s a strong political play to change the current hot-button issue that the United States is discussing. And it’ll certainly be a key issue for the 2012 Elections.

In Defense of "Useless Knowledge", By Amy Pistone

2011-02-23T06:00:00.000-08:00

We continue with Week 5 of my Guest Blog Series, featuring "In Defense of 'Useless Knowledge'" by Amy Pistone. You can find her in Ann Arbor, Michigan where she is frozen solid in an ice block. Wonder she was able to even write this post in the first place.

I’m a Classics Ph.D. student, and at times that feels a bit like admitting that I’m an alcoholic. Maybe I’m a little defensive because this has happened a lot lately, but I’ve gotten used to the confused look of someone trying to figure out how to politely ask “why on earth are you doing that?” Usually I end up making a joke about how I want to teach but I hate kids, so that’s why I’m getting my Ph.D. Which is fine, and conversation can move on to something else, but I shouldn’t have to do such ludicrous contortions to explain why I’m studying what I’m studying. (To be fair, I do legitimately dislike junior high and high school kids. But that’s not the point.)

More and more, it seems like knowledge needs to have a direct monetary benefit. Engineering is a great career, so is medicine, and law. I could be wrong, but I don’t think med students have to spend as much time defending their career choices. And I’m not trying to argue against doctors. I’m a big fan of doctors, mostly because we wouldn’t have Scrubs without them, and also for that whole helping sick people thing.

But history and music and literature get this unfair treatment. They’re great for trivia nights, and Jeopardy, and Qrank, but that’s about it. Why would anyone need to know what Jane Austen wrote, or why the Battle of Hastings was significant, since it won’t come up in a job interview? Once you graduate from high school, there’s no reason to pursue a wide range of knowledge, because it’s “trivial” (i.e. there’s no money in it).

And it didn’t used to be this way. One hundred years ago (or 50 or something, I sort of made that number up, in the proud tradition of people making unresearched claims on the internet, but you get the idea), everyone who went through basic schooling was expected to learn Greek and Latin. A few hundred years before that, we had this cool thing called the Renaissance Man, who was praised for knowing a bit about all sorts of subjects, from science to music, art to history.

I’d argue that we humanities grad students are fighting furiously against the tide to preserve a dying (very nearly dead) culture that values knowledge for the sake of knowledge. And not JUST for the sake of knowledge, but for the sake of self-knowledge. We don’t just study dead people because we’re terrified of going out into the “real world” and getting jobs. We do this because our world today is fundamentally shaped by things that happened hundreds and thousands of years ago.

We students of the humanities do exactly what it sounds like. We study what it is to be human. We study how we communicate with one another and why we think we’re here. We study the hopes and fears and loves and conflicts of our entire species. It may never make us rich, but someone’s got to fight the good fight. Someone’s got to remember our cultural past and figure out how we relate to it.

If no one insists on remembering, studying, and transmitting that past, then we can never really understand what’s going on right now. As a result, we get people talking about how there’s nothing in the Constitution that says anything about church and state, or how tides (like magnets) are a miracle, or how Egypt is secretly an Islamic caliphate conspiracy. And I’m not suggesting that studying Classics would cure Glenn Beck. Not even I think Classics are that impressive. But, as a colleague of mine reminded me this afternoon, one of those dead guys we spend so much time studying put it nicely: Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto. I am a human, and I think nothing that is human is foreign to me. I don’t have to be getting my Ph.D. because I hate teenagers. I’m doing this because who we are as a culture and as a species is important, and how we got here informs who we are and where we’re going. And someone’s got to be able to talk about those things without sounding like an idiot.

Carmelo Anthony Trade Analysis

2011-02-22T00:00:00.000-08:00

Carmelo Anthony’s headed to the New York Knicks. So are Chauncey Billups, Shelden Williams, Anthony Carter and Renaldo Balkman. The whole trade is a big bunch of numbers and details involving the Knicks, Denver Nuggets, and Minnesota Timberwolves that you can read about here. But here’s my breakdown.

The Knicks have their core. Amare Stoudemire and Carmelo Anthony is a strong, scoring machine. Or is it? Both of these guys are averaging overing 25 points a game, and the addition of Melo is going to help Amare space the floor. But there’s an issue here in that Melo is not a passer. He likes the ball in his hands. So does Amare. Will this become an issue? For the immediate future, I don’t think it will be. Billups is coming along, so he knows how Anthony runs and can only help the duo’s chemistry build in the beginning.

The Nuggets end up solid. Sure they lost Anthony and are in full-fledged rebuilding mode. But if they’d gotten Landry Fields too, would the Nuggets have actually won the trade? It could be up for debate, depending on if they continue trading. Both Felton, who has entirely boosted his stock this year, and Mozgov, who can provide front court depth to a potential team, are excellent trade chips. Gallinari is a budding star, not to mention the rest of the Nuggets roster. And they’ve gotten plenty of picks for the future, coming from Minnesota which will ensure they’re pretty high. Basically, the Nuggets have great rebuilding options.

The Timberwolves get a cool guy in Anthony Randolph. But they’re still uninteresting.

Unfortunately, the long view for this trade doesn’t make the Knicks championship contenders. Definitely not this season, maybe not next season, and maybe never. Why?

Granted, it does make the Knicks an attraction and (importantly) media-draw in New York and the NBA-landscape. But look at all those Mike D’Antoni teams that didn’t win a championship. They had Steve Nash, who at the time was one of the most entertaining players to watch and a two-time MVP, and Amare Stoudemire, plus some pretty solid supporting cast in Shawn Marion, Joe Johnson (briefly), and Boris Diaw. They were entertaining to watch and destroyed during the regular season, but they couldn’t play any defense and always fell short in the playoffs. After first beating the Lakers, which I sadly remember.

Now D'Antoni is the coach again, and they don't have a ball-distributor like Nash. So this team in its current incarnation isn’t a contender. They’re headed for the fifth or sixth seed, and if they draw the fourth then they could maybe make it out of the first round. But they won’t be a true contender until they’re able to target a solid Point Guard, like a Deron Williams or Chris Paul. And that won’t happen for at least another season, although a core of Melo, Amare, and Paul/Williams is deadly. In terms of offense they could rival the Miami Heat’s threesome.

But the larger issue with the Knicks, as was the issue with D’Antoni’s Suns, will be defense. Amare Stoudemire does not play defense. Carmelo Anthony does not even spell defense (it’s in the direction). While it was obvious the Heat would score, it wasn’t apparent that they would cohesively defend. Yet that has been their biggest success this season, in part because Dwayne Wade and LeBron James are strong defenders. If the Knicks are to rival the Heat in coming years, then Amare and Melo will need to become interested in defense.

If they don’t, think of the Knicks as the Wes Mantooth to the Heat’s Ron Burgundy -- in second for years. And yes, Mike Miller is Brick Tamland in this analogy.

President's Day Triviality

2011-02-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

There’s a video that I’m absolutely obsessed about. It’s from Disney World’s “Hall of American Presidents” attraction, but the M.C. totally gets the names wrong. Actually, he brilliantly gets the names wrong. Watch it here, and laugh. I was tempted to simply transpose all those fake names for today’s post. However, I’m going in a different direction. In honor of President’s Day, here are five bits of Presidential trivia that I find striking:

5. William Howard Taft’s Other Character Flaws. Most facts about Taft center around the fact that he was trapped inside the White House bathtub because of his weight. Whether this actually happened or not (he did have a specially made bathtub), there were other ridiculous qualities about Taft. For instance, the expectation for a man of his girth -- between 335-340 pounds -- is a deep, bass voice. Unfortunately, he had a higher, tenor-pitched voice. Audiences were often disappointed.

4. Andrew Jackson’s Parrot. Among some of Jackson’s best moments involved beating a man with his cane, bleeding himself to mitigate the effects of tuberculosis, and was routinely called a “jackass” (hence the Democratic Party logo). But he also owned a parrot, whose name was Poll, that was able to speak in Spanish and English, and took after the profanity Jackson so often spoke. At Jackson’s funeral, Poll had to be removed because of its swearing.

3. Calvin Coolidge’s Silence. There are a bunch of made-up stories about “Silent Cal,” most notably of how a dinner guest once told him “I bet a friend I can get you to speak more than two words” and he replied “you lose.” He also once commented that the American people wanted a solemn, quiet President, and he wanted one too. But he actually gave over 500 Presidential press conferences. If you look back through the records though, they are so boring that they might as well have been silent.

2. Zachary Taylor’s Food Poisoning. There are a lot of negative facts about Zachary Taylor. He had never cast a vote in his life, and therefore was nominated without any public opinions issued or any frame of reference whatsoever on politics. He was short. He was near-sighted. Although a positive was that he was a decorated war General from the Mexican War. However don't overlook how he died -- allegedly from food poisoning. He had traveled to various Independence Day celebrations, and at one a bowl of cherries and cream was happily awaiting Taylor in the hot July sun. Less than a week later of stomach problems, fever and vomiting, Taylor was dead.

1. Theodore Roosevelt’s Assassination Attempt. He is arguably the greatest character of any president, with his bouts fighting asthma through strenuous exercise, to his avid historian writing, to his staunch environmental conservation and outdoors activity. Roosevelt was a man of great heart, and that came in handy. During his 1912 failed reelection campaign, Roosevelt was shot by a man in the crowd. He did not notice that he had been shot until he reached inside of his jacket and found blood from the right side of his chest. He continued giving his speech anyway, and the bullet was never removed.

What Is An Arcade Fire

2011-02-18T01:00:00.000-08:00

“Something filled up my heart with nothing,

Someone told me not to cry,

But now that I’m older my heart’s colder,

And I can see that it’s a lie.”

- “Wake Up” by Arcade Fire

Fridays are special days. It’s a really tough world out there, so it’s nice to occasionally step back for a second and enjoy things a bit more deeply. Sometimes just to feel like a kid again. That’s why I find Fridays to be special days, because they’re days that I designate as my “feel-like-a-kid-again” days. Perhaps its the fact that I tend to drop everything I’ve been doing and write my blog posts strictly about music, a uniquely childhood memory of mine.

Sadly the Grammy’s were last Sunday, otherwise I would’ve written something about how no one knows about Arcade Fire. Shame really, because Arcade Fire has written so many songs good songs out there, including “Wake Up.” Even if you don’t listen to Arcade Fire, you’ve probably heard this in two different places: mashed up in Girl Talk’s new album, and in the “Where The Wild Things Are” trailer.

Sidenote: Arcade Fire didn’t write the actual soundtrack to the film. That was written by Karen O, the vocalist for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Another remarkably great musical group out there, but I’d hope you’ve heard of them by now too. I'll have to do a Friday post on them soon.

Arcade Fire featured in the trailer for an absolutely great film. And like all great films, if you haven’t seen it you should. Right now. Because coincidentally it’s about our struggles with growing up, and our battles to stay young. It’s based on one of the greatest children’s books of all time. And it focuses on the idea I’m somewhat rambling towards in this blog post of mine.

It’s the idea that every once and a while, we should take a moment and reconnect with our inner-childhood. And believe me, it’s always there, whether you’re 23 or just two and three months (if you are, how are you reading my blog?). It could be doing something as simple as thinking about what your first memory was in your life. Got it? Yeah, there you go you’ve thought about something youthful and invigorating for a day. Or you could go a step further, and do something that brought you joy as a childhood. Like draw (when’s the last time you drew for fun?) or watch an old movie (when’s the last time you watched a classic?)

For me I enjoyed reading books with my parents, each of us taking turns to read those simple lines out loud to one another. I got my name because Calvin and Hobbes was a new comic strip and my older brother suggested I be named after that. And while he wasn’t named for it, my younger brother bears the same name as the protagonist of “Where The Wild Things Are.” A book that will always have a special place in every child’s heart, no matter how old they are today.

That a band like Arcade Fire, a Grammy Winner that most people didn’t know about beforehand, is associated with the film bearing that same name is remarkable. Since seeing “Where The Wild Things Are,” they’ve been forever connected in my memory beyond simply being a great band. Arcade Fire is a band that brings me back to my childhood. On this Friday, find something that brings you back to yours.

F-35? Do They Make Keyboards That Big?

2011-02-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

There’s a new hope in Washington, and it’s nothing to do with expectations for the Nationals. Yesterday the House voted to cancel the F-35 Alternate Jet Engine program, with a tally of 233-198. That’s a great sign, because it shows that a plethora of the Freshmen Republican representatives have taken a distinct about-face from their original position. They are now willing to consider cutting the budgets for defense spending and national security.

Will this hurt the military? Not really, because the Program was entirely as it sounds -- an “alternate” to the one that is currently being built by United Technologies. Congress wanted to create competition, and drive down the prices it would have to pay for the F-35’s engine when it was eventually completed, so it tapped General Electric and Rolls-Royce for the “alternate.” Apparently Rolls-Royce couldn’t convince the Congress that its super quiet engines would be enough of an advantage in stealth combat.

So what is the net-net of cutting this program? On the budget deficit itself, it’s not going to make any dent at all. Ending the F-35 Alternate Jet Engine Program will save $450 million this year, and over the next several years roughly $3 billion. And if you haven’t heard the screams and cries of Republican deficit hawks, we’re currently facing a $1.5 trillion shortfall. Gee, I wonder what percentage $450 million is out of $1.5 trillion. If you guessed .0003 percent, which written out is “three one hundredths of a percent,” then you’re correct. “Infinitesimally small” was also an acceptable response.

But the vote’s significance is in the long-term view. It enables the possibility of true budget reform because national defense are also on the table. Now that doesn’t mean we’ll suddenly wake up without any Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan because Congress will vote away the spending. What it does mean is that the national crusade to balance the budget has new options.

That’s important because there is no mathematically sound way to balance the budget through domestic cuts alone. There’s no way to even cut $100 billion in domestic programs, if you exclude “entitlements” and “national defense” like Republicans suggested. Try to do it by playing around with the Center for American Progress’s interactive chopping block (warning: to do it realistically you will need a conscience). And there is no real talk of new forms of revenue, what with an extension of Bush-era tax cuts that have only exacerbated our current debt. Throw in the fact that most people aren’t creative and believe austerity measures are a necessity, and what do you get? The need to look at other areas in the federal budget for places to cut.

While it’s an admittedly modest start, it’s a start nonetheless. With national defense potentially in the same boat as other federal budget pieces, I think you could start considering other options. You could start specifically allocating military spending toward new forms of research that will benefit the entire economy, such as renewable energy. Advancements in technologies and new forms of research could then lead to sped up job growth. Just look back throughout history at something like the Interstate Highway System. When the military wants something done, it gets it done. And I'm hopeful that's the case here.

La Coffee Rapture, By Timothy Tondreault

2011-02-16T06:00:00.000-08:00

We continue with Week 4 of my Guest Blog Series, featuring "La Coffee Rapture" by Timothy Tondreault. You can find him authoring "Apo Mechanes Theos." Currently living in Los Angeles, the following is an accurate account of all that Timothy does on a daily basis.

I’m sitting in an upscale coffee house (a pound of coffee runs about $20… that’s upscale, right?) near downtown LA. A lot of guys in expensive t-shirts, cardigans, loafers w/o socks. And dogs, and not one is a pound rescue, I can tell you. It’s not that an upscale coffee house in LA needs to be gay, but it needs to have a pretty good mix of gay, if you know what I mean, all the baristas from the REALLY gay coffee houses west of here, slumming. Either way, from where I’m sitting I can only see two women. The other 10 people are all guys, as discussed.

Now, not to put too fine a point on it, but I am attracted to young men. Definitely legal. I wouldn’t bring this up, because it’s probably TMI for most of you, but it is integral to the post, so there’s that. Anyway, just in front of me is a fine looking guy, maybe 22, and he’s alternately staring at the screen of his Mac workbook pro and staring at me. He thinks he’s being surreptitious, but he might as well be sending up flares. I have this effect on young men, hence the attraction.

The place isn’t that crowded. It’s a popular place, but at 5:18pm on a Tuesday there are plenty of empty tables. And this guy we’re discussing is sitting at the end of a bench that runs at a perfect right angle to the table where I’m sitting, maybe 10 feet away. And as our cruising is reaching a quiet crescendo, this Holden Caulfield look-a-like comes and sits in the exact center of the bench, interrupting the flow of pheromones like the Grand Coolie Dam.

The place is practically empty! You could fire a cannon through the place and not hit… well, okay, the lesbians at table 12 would have to move a little to their right… but otherwise, the projectile would just bounce harmlessly onto Sunset Blvd, and he chooses this place to sit?? I’m at a loss, I really am, and… and… I hate him. I can see Boy Wonder trying to reestablish contact through the pomade holding this guy’s hair in, well, in a shape not found in nature, I can tell you, but there’s just too much interference. True, he could get up and re-establish contact at another table, or simply walk over and drop his telephone number on me, but there are pretty strict rules governing these situations, in case you didn’t know.

Now, this guy doesn’t know I hate him. He’s not expecting that, because 1) he’s as oblivious to what’s going on around him as a fire hydrant and 2) you just don’t walk into an upscale coffee house, sit down and expect to be hated… but, really, this guy should get out more, because his social awareness is about as dense as a black hole and this is LA after all. And it strikes me that this is really pretty funny, that there’s this whole turbulent cruising/hating/May-December lust scenario going on in the ether around us on this peaceful Tuesday evening and I wonder what else the ether is holding, the love, hate, joy, despair, ennui that makes up the daily existence of an upscale coffee house in LA.

And now my guy is packing up and he’s gotten a phone call from some long lost love, or at least like, and whatever moment we were having is gone now and we’re all moving on to the next moment. And I wonder what would happen if we could grab at least one of these moments each day and hold it in place longer than was ever intended. Would it change anything? Or would the ether crack and spill out a million battling emotions that would inundate us and sweep us away in some great catharsis of zeitgeist, past and present, and Ami Mann would be singing, “It Ain’t Gonna Stop ‘Til You Wise Up” in the background. Yeah. The tempo of the music running counter to the deluge… like on Hill Street Blues…

Ok, skip it.

And my guy’s walking out now. I make one last attempt at eye-contact, but he glides by, iphone stuck to his ear like a surgical implant, eyes straight ahead. And even as I go for that final ocular grab, I’m thinking, he’s not as hot as I thought… and I go back to my book.

Elementary, My Dear Watson

2011-02-15T06:00:00.000-08:00

What’s the best Valentine’s Day gift ever? “Watson.”

Last night IBM debuted “Watson,” its “deep-analytics” computer system on Jeopardy. Summary explanation. IBM decided to create a computer that can compete on Jeopardy. Sounds simple, right? Well if the propaganda advertising that IBM keeps running are to be taken as fact, it seems pretty complicated. Just look at the commercial. If you're on Jeopardy you can definitely grasp language enough to parse a clue and find phrases, puns, and patterns (among other linguistic p-terms) that help us answer correctly. What IBM sought to create was a computer that was capable of that “deep-analytic” thinking, otherwise known as super awesome AI.

First aside: aren't IBM commercials just the most depressing things to watch? And not just the fact that their ads are pointless to average consumers because they don’t “buy” their products in a direct sense. Yet those commercials show a company creating hyper-intelligent computers, designing technological systems that can track food and make it more efficient, and inventing new medicinal tools to help mankind. I see that and feel like whatever I’m working on is wholly insignificant by comparison.

Back to the Jeopardy match. Watson faced off against Ken Jennings (74-straight days as champion) and Brad Rutter (multi-Tournament of Champions winner) in a super packed field. And the computer looked super good to start. The most interesting thing is the inside look viewers get at how Watson thinks, because it only guesses if it crosses a “confidence threshold” with one of its potential answer matches. This means it won’t guess if it isn’t certain of the answer. Too err is human, remember. It started off by correctly guessing where the Daily Double was, and then bouncing around from category to category. The biggest advantage Watson had was its ability to calculate when it could buzz in to correctly guess answers. That and sounding like Hal's diminutive and polite cousin.

But after the commercial break Brad and Ken got through their ice-breakers, and a few of Watson’s flaws came to light. The first and most obvious is that Watson does not have auditory or visual capabilities, and instead receives clues through text files at the same time they are read. This means that it can’t hear what other contestants guess, an error that was entirely obvious when it guessed “The 1920s” right after Jennings incorrectly guessed the same thing. Alex Trebek took a second to scold the machine, but again Watson couldn’t hear him.

Another, and potentially more defining point is Watson is still a work-in-progress. Its “deep analytics” were a little too deep, as it found a Latin word that translates to end -- “finis” -- but didn’t account for the part of the question that equated the word to train stations -- “terminus” or “terminal.” We’ll see how it plays tonight as it’s tied with Brad Rutter at $5,000, while Ken Jennings is in third with $2,000. It is definitely exciting to root for humanity in this one.

Which leads me to my second aside: is Watson our precursor to Skynet? And is IBM the Cyberdyne Systems in this comparison? And is this comparison being made in every blog out there? Yes, to all of the above. But seriously, recall those videos at the beginning of the Terminator 2 Ride at Universal Studios. Don't all those Cyberdyne ads seem eerily similar?Except for the part where Shaq can nail 100 percent of his free throws, because no one will ever accomplish that.

Anyway, thanks for giving the best Valentine’s Day gift ever IBM. Or should I call you, Cyberdyne Systems?

Condiment Wars: Salt vs. Pepper

2011-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Salt and pepper. Salt-N-Pepa. S&P (500). Write it how you will, but it’s an age old combination. They’re entirely distinct, but they almost always go together. It’s like mustard and mayonnaise -- they’re always coming together on sandwiches and burgers. Except I hate mayonnaise, but that’s not important right now. Okay better example, they’re like night and day -- polar opposites but peacefully coexisting. They go together because they have to.

Now what if salt and pepper weren’t as “hand-in-hand” as we thought? What if they aren’t who we thought they were? Do we really treat salt and pepper equally, and use them 50-50? No, we don’t. I don’t, anyway. If you watch my hand at the dinner table, I’m reaching for one over the other on every occasion.

Pepper.

Since the dawn of time I have been a fan of spices. Growing up in Los Angeles, I’m a major connoisseur of Mexican food and always ask for the spicy salsa at the taco truck. My father was a huge fan of blackening foods, specifically swordfish steaks, so I’ll always ask for that when I’m out or try to spice up the meat I’m cooking at home in like fashion. And I’m an ardent supporter of Tabasco over Frank’s Red Hot, and Cholula over Tapatio. But that’s not the debate currently on hand.

What is it that pushes me to one side or the other in the salt versus pepper standoff? Actually, it’s more like a full-on battle given the feelings I’ve heard from others. So in true battle fashion, allow me to sing the praises of sodium, my enemy. Without salt, exploration would have been at a total standstill for the greater part of human existence. Salt helped to preserve pork, beef, and all else. And it allowed people to get past the bad tastes of meats that were well past their expiration dates.

When it’s employed precisely, salt can make any dish decadent. It can help to season your steak just perfectly, and it can make your loaded baked potato truly “fully-loaded.” But that requires precision, and human hands can just as carelessly ruin your food with too much or too little salt. There is too great a room for error; too high a risk that accompanies your reward. Salt was a Russian spy, which doesn't sound very friendly to me.

All puns aside, you might very well argue that my complaints against salt are just as frequently levied against pepper. But the key distinction in my mind is this: when I’m sitting at the dinner table, I reach for the pepper grinder (or shaker) first because I love spice. I have no reason to grab for salt because I assume that the meal is cooked properly -- salt should already be encased and embodied within the dish. Adam Sandler isn’t asking whether you want “fresh-a-salt” when he brings out your Caesar Salad. If he did it’d be the equivalent of throwing up his arms and yelling “mama mia” because the cooks couldn’t do their job right. 

Those are my thoughts on the matter. If you ever taste my cooking you’ll know that I use salt and pepper hand in hand, and that you should only need to add more pepper to the dish as an afterthought. But what do I know, I’m just an amateur chef who likes to cook and post subjective opinions.

Who Is She? Why Isn't She There?

2011-02-11T06:00:00.001-08:00

“But it’s too late to say you’re sorry

How would I know, why should I care

Please don’t bother trying to find her

She’s not there”

- “She’s Not There” by The Zombies

Certain things can cause people to recall memories or feelings that have no purpose in actuality. Colors indicate certain moods, words invoke feelings long-gone, and smells can bring us back to that time we stepped in dog crap. I’m quite familiar with random associations. When I see the color green, the thought of Godzilla beating Mecha Godzilla always crosses my mind. Someone asks “guess who I saw,” and my immediate reaction is always “Cary Grant!” My mind is like a constant Bing commercial, only I try to keep it from playing constantly to the outside world.

For me, the song “She’s Not There” is associated in my mind with falling asleep. It's always been that way, ever since I started listening to The Zombies a while back. The obvious connection would be that I was listening to it when I was sleepy or before I went to bed. But my bedtime song has always been “Your Hand In Mine” since I first heard The Zombies, so the timeline doesn’t fit. Or I could have mentally connected the song to Glee, because that show makes me want to fall asleep most of the time but, again, the timetable just doesn’t fit.

Furthermore the song is diametrically opposed to boredom, so it makes even less sense that you’d want to fall asleep listening to “She’s Not There.” Rod Argent’s electric piano is mesmerizing, but it makes you want to time travel back to the 60s and dance in a diner or appear in a TV-spy show with this as the theme you sneak-around to during your business hours. I mean, just watch this music video for the song and note Argent’s expression when he looks at the statue. If anything, this song is excitement, personified. And great expressions.

Either way it’s a song of epic proportions and it carries on my theme of listening to epic songs during this year. In fact, I’m trying to make sure that my life connects with epic in everything I do. That could be anything from trying out yoga classes, to working on more songs for a potential second release with iancalvinken, to helping to start a charity organization, to reorienting my life goals and looking at the world differently. All of which are connections I’m currently making.

So why am I connecting “She’s Not There” with sleeping, when that’s clearly not what that song is associated with?

Maybe my brain is just giving out, and I’m connecting things improperly. I’ve never been a strong sleeper, so maybe I regenerate myself through the healing power of music, this song being a prime example. Or maybe I’m so busy creating personal projects and diversifying myself in life that I’m blurring my realities with my mental realities. You could say just say “he’s” not there, but that’s probably too easy.

And I’d probably think you were referring to Cary Grant.

Statistically Speaking, Stats Suck

2011-02-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

American’s infatuation with statistics is reaching an obsessive, compulsive point. Take Sportscenter the other night, where the Heat beat the Pacers. In that game LeBron James recorded a 41 point, 13 rebound, eight assist, and three steal box. Only three players have achieved that feat before him: Hakeem Olajuwon, David Robinson, and Larry Bird. Thanks ESPN, that statistic is super illuminating and interesting.

Oh wait, that statistic is fucking useless.

See, we already knew that LeBron James is a ridiculously good player. We could judge that from the simple statistic that he has won two-MVP trophies. Or by looking at his career averages in points (27.7), rebounds (7.1), and assists (7.0). Or by not looking at statistics, and just watching his performance on the court. We don’t need to determine his greatness through a random smattering of statistics. 41 point, 13 rebound, eight assist, and three steal nights are not benchmarks by which great players are judged. Rather than increase airtime and clutter on websites, ESPN should just steer away from stuff like this and censor John Hollinger from now on.

Hold on! If we steered away from statistical stupidity, then there’d be nothing to fill airtime in baseball. Because inane statistics are what Joe Buck currently uses to fill the dull silence. Did you know that Alex Rodriguez is batting .540 against right-handed pitchers on Tuesdays for his career, provided it’s a day game? Probably. Or that Tim Lincecum averages at least seven-innings pitched when he eats three hot dogs before a game? I think so. Or that Jim Joyce is 0-1 in games where he has the deciding call of a no-hitter at first base? That one’s actually true. But really, no one cares about all of these ridiculous, something-out-of-nothing statistics. Why not cut costs by having a computer announce the game, because it could generate its own stupid statistics at the same time? Obviously I’m not very enamored with baseball these days.

But sports isn't acting alone here. Others are guilty of employing worthless statistics, like movies and entertainment. For instance, think Avatar is the highest grossing movie of all time? Gone With The Wind sold more tickets, even though they cost roughly a quarter each compared to $7-14.50 (ranging between 3D and IMAX 3D) for Avatar. But it’s technically the highest grossing movie of all time, because box-office earnings-lists aren’t adjusted for inflation. Check out what that list would look like if it were.

America is guilty of statistics-mongering, from sports to entertainment to politics, and everything in between. Anyone has the right statistic to back themselves up, given basic knowledge of English and mathematical operations. For instance, an article on this Arizona website states that federal taxes are the lowest they’ve been since 1950. Then it qualifies the statement by saying “by one measure.” Because if you used an entirely different measure, taxes are clearly the highest they’ve been since 1950. Clearly.

Let’s conclude with polling, because that’s always straightforward right? Yes, and this sentence isn’t laced with sarcasm. A poll by Fox News’s Frank Luntz found that nearly half of a Republic focus group in Iowa, roughly 50 percent, believe Obama is a Muslim. That’s a valuable statistic if you’re interested in the political thoughts of small, uber Right Wing-leaning clusters of Iowans. But if you’re looking for national trends, and thereby meaning, don’t hold your breath. A national poll conducted in August of Republicans showed that only 31 percent believe Obama is a Muslim. The only apparent trend between these two statistics is that...wait. Am I actually trying to rationalize this statistically?

A Country On Fire, By Ken Sofer

2011-02-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

We continue with Week 3 of my Guest Blog Series, featuring "A Country On Fire" by Ken Sofer. Recently graduated from USC, he can currently be found tweeting like a mad-man. Ken also plays guitar like LeBron James plays basketball: with no regard for human life.

"You should check the news.” That’s all my father said to me. It seems so understated in hindsight, given the enormity of what was happening, but as is often the case with monumental events, words fail us.

Egypt was on fire. But it wasn’t as simple as that. My old neighborhood was under martial law. The shops and streets I frequented during my five-month stay in Cairo were now battlegrounds for the political future of the proudest country in the Middle East.

Men and women, who I once knew as my neighbors or my cab drivers or my friends, were now “anti-regime protestors” in the streets shouting down President Hosni Mubarak, the man who had ruled Egypt for longer than any ruler since Ramses II. There was a time when the corrupt Egyptian police could bully citizens, like my friend Ahmed, into coughing up a bribe to avoid a bogus traffic citation. But today they’re powerless to stop protestors. The Mogamma, the imposing symbol of government authority that I passed every time I entered downtown, was now a rallying point for citizens of Egypt demanding political rights. Those private, but omnipresent whispers that complained about Mubarak’s failures were now loud, public cries for his resignation.

A close friend of mine asked whether or not I was surprised by the protests, and I honestly couldn't answer. The pieces were always there. Egyptians have a reputation in the Arab world as being especially emotional and passionate; celebrations following a big soccer match while I was there gave me just a taste. The ubiquitous use of Facebook among twentysomething Egyptians (I’m Facebook friends with most of the students from an English class I taught) showed that the social networking capabilities were there. Egyptians are certainly justified in their demands, especially young Egyptians like the students I taught in my English class who faced unreasonable overcrowding in their universities and few job opportunities despite their obvious capabilities as engineers, pharmacists, and mathematicians.

What shocked me was that the frustrations with the government finally overcame the very real fear of Egypt's security forces. This is a country that has been under “emergency rule” for the entirety of Mubarak’s presidency. This is a government that is so suspicious of the freedom of assembly that even the most benign of nongovernmental organizations, such as one I volunteered for to offer free English classes to middle-to-lower income Egyptian university students, still face significant bureaucratic hurdles and suspicious eyes to obtain the proper permits to exist. This is a security apparatus that essentially abducted a fellow student of mine at the American University in Cairo for openly criticizing Egypt’s Gaza policies. The only reason the student’s arrest made any news was because he was half-German. Most vocal critics of the regime disappear without much fanfare.

In spite of the regime’s various methods of intimidation and subjugation, Mubarak's finale as the modern pharaoh of Egypt looks like it will be measured in days or weeks, not months or years. The inevitable political transition in the coming months will prove to be a test of trust. Do you trust your leaders to remain within the legal boundaries of their power, to advance an agenda that benefits the long-term interests of the entire nation, and to recuse themselves from power if asked to do so by the nation? Do your leaders trust you to fulfill your civic duties, to educate yourself on the key issues faced by the country, and to remain patient with your leaders as the government attempts to resolve problems that were decades in the making?

Trust isn't easy. I'll be disappointed, but I won't blame my Egyptian friends for remaining suspicious of its new leaders, just as I will understand if the new leaders of Egypt remain cautious of its own population. The fact is, we face similar trust issues here in America even after over two centuries of experience with representative democracy.

I make no predictions for Egypt's future, but I pray that whoever succeeds Mubarak counts John Adams and not Mustafa Kemal Atatürk among his or her (but let's be realistic, his) political heroes. Atatürk may get the glory for his benevolent authoritarian reign over Turkey, but it is much more difficult to be a leader like Adams, who begrudgingly put his trust in the American people at a crucial point in the founding stages of the country and handed over the presidency to a bitter political rival after he lost his bid for reelection.

Viva Egypt. Viva trust.

Methods Of Writing

2011-02-08T06:00:00.000-08:00

How do I write. I do it in 500-700 word posts. No, that answers the question of what do I write, not how. A lot of times we’re more likely to consider the end results and outcomes, whether or not we’ve achieved our goals, and not look at the methods that got us there. The journey, as my yoga teacher pointed out yesterday. Yet today I'm examining that journey, of my writing. You could call this a meta-blog, if you were named Amy Pistone.

Oftentimes my writing begins with an idea. And then from that beginning it grows until, like sticking a pencil randomly in the middle of a drawn maze, it reaches an ending point. And then once I’m there I’ll lift up my pencil and retrace my steps from start to finish and make sure it flows succinctly, avoiding any hyperbolic dead-ends. I guess you could term that writing linearly, and this blog would be an example.

Sometimes my writing doesn't have a beginning. Just waxed poeticism. That I’ve reread and liked. It was great. And I want to structure something around it. It can't waste away. This is the style of my personal travel journal. The one I wrote in Europe. Today it happens in two places. When I wake up suddenly in the middle of the night. And when I’m showering. Because those places are where all good thinking happens. This might be termed fractured writing, but here’s what a bunch of fragments can sound like.

Maybe I’m setting out to write but I realize that I don’t have a particular topic set in my mind. Maybe it’s a specific style or literary effect that I’m going for. Maybe the paragraph is what I’m after. Maybe I just want to shape all my paragraphs a certain length or shape. Maybe that’s a stupid reason to write, maybe it isn’t. Maybe I use parallel construction far more than you’d think.

Depending on the occasion, my writing is pretty much done before I even start. If I’ve done enough research to get started, or drawn up a skeleton-framework (in my head or on paper) that helps guide me along my writing journey. Oh the joys of being a history major. Or really anyone in the real world who has to do some sort of summary and minor analysis for their bosses to read over or their paper to publish. I’d call this writing a memo or research paper, and I’m not going to search for a link because it’s not fun to read. Unless the Onion does it.

Then there are the instances where I’ve had Writer’s Block. At the worst possible time, usually at a deadline. When that happens, I grab a cup of coffee to change my mood. And then I just keep throwing type, making sure that my copy is clean because that’s always my number one pet-peeve. You can probably win the battle on looks alone, right? Or go on a random tangent that uses big words that aren’t so big that I clearly went to the thesaurus. Writing through Writer’s Block doesn’t usually follow a logical string. But when I’m all done I have the opportunity to go back and make a strong determination if it’s better than just turning in a blank page. And in retrospect, this paragraph turned out okay.

My writing can follow a formula, and it can be spontaneous. The dangers and beauties of writing a lot. But that's a fact that I often overlook. I can write, and I choose to do so.

Super Sunday! Thanks Super Bowl

2011-02-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

Whenever I watch the Super Bowl, a little piece of trivia comes to mind. There are four Universities in the United States that have graduated both a President and a Super Bowl winning quarterback: Miami (Ohio), Michigan, Navy, and Stanford. If you’re counting, they are Ben Roethlisberger and Benjamin Harrison, Tom Brady and Gerald Ford, Roger Staubach and Jimmy Carter, and John Elway and Herbert Hoover.* I didn’t say they were good Presidents.

*Some have actually graduated multiple Super Bowl winning quarterbacks, but I’m too lazy to write them all.

Before Sunday, Cal featured three Super Bowl losing quarterbacks Joe Kapp, Vince Ferragamo, and Craig Morton who actually lost in two separate games. But now that Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers won Sunday, all Cal needs is a President to join that elite club. And Earl Warren was our best hope.

Speaking of that win yesterday, it was a surprisingly fun game. Two good years in a row (recall that last year’s game featured an onside kick to open the second half), and let’s hope it keeps going. Granted that third quarter went on for far too long, in part because I was still reeling from the Black Eyed Peas halftime show. Seriously, did they grab the same costume designers that worked on Tron? And then put Will.I.Am’s head in a time capsule somehow? Hideous, just like Joe Buck and Troy Aikman announcing in apathy.

However the game was relatively high scoring, and kept you on the edge of your seat. Defensive stops and turnovers galore, and you kept thinking Ben Roethlisberger would conceivably make a game-winning drive again. But somehow Aaron Rodgers was poised and ready, and just kept driving. I can’t wait to see what he can do next year with a hopefully continuously healthy team.

What made this year even better were the additions of absolutely preposterous bets and wagers. Each year I am a part of Super Bowl squares, which is a 10-by-10 grid that pretty much amounts to Super Bowl bingo and promotes you thinking of the most inane manners of scoring. Here is when I would explain the rules, but I probably explained this to upwards of 15 people yesterday and don’t want to type it out because it’s still floating around in my head. I will say I won for the second year in a row, so I’m going to recklessly continue this decision because the math just seems to awesomely (and randomly) work out in my favor.

But along with Super Bowl squares, we came up with other ridiculous ideas modeled off of Vegas Prop Bets. Would Christina Aguilera wear a hat singing the National Anthem? No. Would there be a Fighter Jet or Stealth Bomber fly-over? Fighter Jet. Would the number of the player who committed the first penalty be odd or even? Odd, it was James Farrior (51). We even had a section based on Dwight Howard. For instance, would there be more fouls against Dwight Howard in the earlier game against Boston or total turnovers in the Super Bowl? Answer: Dwight Howard, with five personal fouls and a technical versus three turnovers in the Super Bowl.

Finally, the icing on the cake of a great Super Bowl came with two commercials. The first was the Transformers 3 trailer, which looks visually appealing and has a title that I will consistently mistake for a Pink Floyd album. The second was the Volkswagen: The Force commercial. I can’t say I’ve seen something as cute on television in such a long time. That ad already has 14 million views on youtube as I write this. With a nephew who is in love with Star Wars, that commercial was an adorable grace note on an already fantastic Super Bowl.

Against Me! Shows Are Awesome

2011-02-04T06:00:00.000-08:00

“The party’s over, a CD skipping

It’s the same hook repeating, grows more grating with each passing second”

“T.S.R. (This Shit Rules)” by Against Me!

Last Sunday Ken and I went to see a show up in Hollywood at the Henry Fonda. The bands playing were Fake Problems, The Fences, Cheap Girls, and Against Me! While Fake Problems are actually a pretty good band, the other two weren’t anything to write home about. So I won’t, but that’s not the case with Against Me!

I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to see Against Me! live. This was my first chance. Hell, i don’t know if you’ve even listened to Against Me! before. I’ve only been listening to them for two years now. But they write some of the best music out there, and put on one of the greatest live shows I’ve ever been to. Most punk rock shows have Mosh/Circle Pits, but at an Against Me! show everyone just screams their hearts out and tries to get as close to the stage as possible. Tom Gabel is one of the most energetic singers, and he plays a guitar while he’s singing. All around, it’s just one of the best shows I’ve been to.

Lyrically, Against Me! runs the gamut and it still somehow resonates. They’ll sing songs about partying, and then jump to a song about US Foreign Policy (note the chorus). Songs about consumer culture are a norm. If you like chain-gang sing-a-long vocals (cough “The Weight” cough), they wrote this really nifty song called “Sink, Florida, Sink” which comprised the other half of our jam sessions in Tahoe. And we didn’t forget the choruses to those.

But what was different here was my reaction to the idea of the “show.” I’ve grown up in theatrical environments with my father, started playing music shows on stage when I was in Middle School, and have always found myself somewhere between the front of the audience to the backstage. All of my friends and I still go to shows, granted my most recent show before Sunday was a None More Black and Me First and the Gimme Gimmes show in Brooklyn, New York that Luke and I happened to be in town for.

Previously I would find myself at the front of the stage, screaming the band’s lyrics at the top of my lungs. I distinctly remember a Paint It Black show where I jumped on Will’s back to shout the lyrics into Dan Yemin’s mic (causing Will to tear a pair of his jeans). Then there was that The Explosion show at the Wiltern where Garrett, Ken, and I were the only people that knew the words to their songs. And on Sunday, I was still singing along.

Just not at the front of the stage. None More Black, The Gaslight Anthem, Against Me!, and whichever other bands I’ve seen recently are simply my favorites. But my show-going mentality is evolving. I’m getting a bit older, and my interests are changing. I’m listening to music, but I’m not going to live shows as much as I used to. And when I do, I’m wearing collared shirts, not my hoodie and band shirts.

And that’s okay. To me, “T.S.R.” is about a really great time the night before, waking up with a hangover the next morning, but getting up and moving on. Sunday was a pretty great show, “It was fun while it lasted, but now we should be going.” That’s kind of how life works too. You have some great times, some not so great times and in that moment when you start to question yourself, you realize that you have to keep on going.

And that’s what I’m going to do.

Getting the NFL to L.A. (Barring Traffic)

2011-02-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

If the NFL returns to Los Angeles, games will be played at Farmers Field located in Downtown. AEG announced at a Tuesday press conference that Farmers Insurance Exchange will pay $700 million over 30 years for the naming rights. That conference sounded the NFL in L.A. by 2015 was a done deal. But I have a concern. And it’s in the form of a very lengthy hypothetical with numbers.

Staples Center, adjacent to the proposed Farmers Field, holds approximately 19,100 people at a basketball game (it’s a little less for hockey games). The Nokia Theatre has seating for 7,100 people, with Club Nokia seating 2,300. Maybe an extra 1,000 people are hanging out at the various bars and places like the JW Marriott and Ritz Carlton. On a given night, the L.A. Live complex could have about 29,500 people in it.

What if there was an event at the Convention Center? Add in a (conservative estimate) few-thousand people in town to attend. Now we’re at 32,000 people at L.A. Live and the surroundings. That’s a decent amount of people hanging out on a given night in and around Downtown Los Angeles. I would hate to be driving, because lord knows there aren’t enough cabs.

Enter Farmers Field. The Los Angeles Chargers (or to stick with the “Teams Relocating From Minnesota” theme, the Los Angeles Vikings) will have to play eight home games during the NFL season that lasts from September and December. Some preseason games. Maybe a playoff game. That stadium is projected to seat a modest 64,000 people.

That’s double the amount of people hanging out in L.A. Live and the Convention Center when they’re at max capacity. Now what if -- worst case scenario -- there happened to be a Lakers Game at Staples, a Justin Bieber concert at the Nokia, a Kardashian Birthday Bash at Club Nokia, and an Auto Show in the Convention Center all on the same Sunday. Oh, and the Los Angeles Vikings are playing the Green Bay Packers for a day game. What would that attendance figure come out to?

96,000.

Nearly one-hundred thousand people might not seem like much. The new Cowboys Stadium fits 80,000 on its own. But when you’re stuffing that many people into a small, couple-block area in Downtown Los Angeles, it seems gigantic. Because a very large percentage of that 96,000 will drive and park their own cars. If the 110 Freeway already gets slow-traffic on a Sunday evening for no real reason, just imagine what it’ll be like when the floodgates from Traffic Hell are open.

“Worst-case” scenario, mind you. Maybe the odds of planetary alignment are greater than all of this happening at once (wait, they already did?). Believe me, I’ve been wanting the NFL to return to L.A. I wrote a public policy paper three years ago arguing for a private investor to put up money for a stadium and to simultaneously stir public support and enthusiasm for the stadium and the NFL. That’s happening now, and it could easily take the downtown revitalization project to a new level. A football stadium would provide benefits year-round, not to mention give me an actual team to root for other than my crappy fantasy team.

So what must accompany Farmers Field? A realistic, thought-out transportation strategy. More parking spaces alone won’t cut it, especially when “green” is a lynchpin of the architectural concept. Public transportation alternatives need to exist. I’ve taken the L.A. Metro to events at Staples Center, but this needs to be heavily promoted -- along the lines of increased trains and discounted tickets for Metro and Bus-users. Maybe there need to be specific off-ramps to facilitate the traffic flows, or side-streets need to be closed to allow for shuttling from parking throughout downtown.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way. If AEG can make a stadium come this far, I’m hopeful that they’ll be able to figure out the transportation angle. Because I really want to see the NFL in L.A. in 2015.

Something To Mole Over, By Carli Raben

2011-02-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

We continue with Week 2 of my Guest Blog Series, featuring "Something To Mole Over" by Carli Raben. I recently wrote a blog post about Carli Raben. A Senior at Cal, Carli enjoys videos of Muppets with celebrities and challenging strangers to duels.

The 90s. It’s officially been over a decade since the greatest decade known to mankind ended, therefore the reminiscent tone I’ve used for years to discuss pop culture highlights is finally appropriate. For babies of the late 80s like myself, this was a simpler time. A time when boy bands and pop princesses ruled the airwaves and their pin-ups covered my walls. Recently, one particular pop gem has resurfaced on the track list of my mental playlist. In 1999, the Latin pop invasion brought us an onslaught of crossover artists, topping our pop charts with their bilingual hits. Enrique Iglesias hit the TRL countdown with a teenybopper classic, “Bailamos,” an endearing track that demanded we dance! It was a song for summer nights, dancing in the dark at pool parties; a Parental Advisory sticker was not to be found on Enrique Iglesias’s debut Enrique.

Apparently, the times they are a-changin’! I was cruising through my hometown of Hollywood, Fl this winter break, pumping the radio in my mother’s SUV to a comfortably loud level -- that’s right, I was sans ipod. I take advantage of these rare opportunities to listen to popular music; they give me a leg-up on frat music for the coming semester. Ever since Akon’s “I wanna love* you” came out, party music has continually pushed the envelope. Now, I don’t want this to sound like the rant of a conservative, sweater wearin’ youngster (though I do own a ridiculous amount of sweaters), but I was shocked to hear the words coming out of Pool Boy Next Door Enrique’s mouth. The lyric that struck me as somewhat odd in his latest single, “Please excuse me I don’t mean to be rude/but tonight I’m loving* you.”

There are two levels of ridiculousness at play. The radio version of this song does not do a good job at covering up the edited dirty lyric. There is nothing rude about loving someone for a night. It’s a little direct to place this strong emotion on a complete stranger, but hey, songs have been written about weirder things. Replacing Enrique’s primal desire with an uncalled for level of devotion is nothing short of awkward but it takes one to know one (see: earlier sweater comment). On a deeper lever, the 90s child in me can’t help but feel disappointed by Enrique. I’m reminded of the “Dirrty” days of Christina Aguilera or when Nelly Furtado got all hyped up on Timbaland beats. There is something unsettling about these former Tiger Beat heartthrobs and mom-friendly pop stars getting all nasty.

Maybe it’s not Enrique’s fault. He’s adapting and evolving. Over a decade in the business and he’s managed to stay relevant. At home this winter break, I was reminded of all the changes coming in my life in the next few months. Come May, I will be a college graduate and momentarily done with my career as a student. Scary bidness. My own evolution is imminent, and I need to stop resisting the inevitable. Memories serve a purpose but they shouldn’t interfere with the course of your future. They should guide you and help you learn to make better choices. There is a difference between nostalgia and arrested development (C’mon!) and I intend to keep on growing.

So, Enrique, “here’s the situation,” your new song may conjure a moment of yearning for a different era, but let it be known that in the grand scheme, I appreciate your journey. And yeah -- “Tonight” is totally on my ipod.

*Love=radio version of fuck, in case it wasn’t obvious

Facebook? Like Or Dislike

2011-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

I read the news every morning thanks to the New York Times online edition. And I check my sports news at ESPN, online and on TV. Occasionally I’ll read the Los Angeles Times print edition. But a lot of those main stories that are covered are just to keep up with basic, commonplace storylines. So I know that there are protests going on in Tunisia and Egypt, or that another Federal Judge ruled that the Healthcare Bill is unconstitutional. But oftentimes I don’t find a lot of these stories as compelling to discussions on my blog, because there isn’t as much analysis that I can provide with my own personal sentiments or twists to them.

I support the protestors in Tunisia and Egypt, and I disagree with the Judge’s ruling on the Healthcare Bill. And I could go on for another 300-plus words and that would be my blog post, but it wouldn’t add anything.

Where I do find more intricate and interesting topics for discussion are on NPR. They might be the same stories as those I heard in other news. But something about hearing rational people weigh differing aspects of an particular event illuminates discussion, where other reports just dictate facts. While listening to the Patt Morrison Show yesterday afternoon, one piece that directly relates to me came on: does Facebook make us unhappy?

The short answer was “no,” but it can indirectly lead to us being happy or unhappy. If you are looking around on Facebook and see that your friends all have posted a ton of pictures and are partying and exploring new places and having a great time and loving everybody and saving the world from war, death, pestilence, destruction, and Moby, then you will begin to compare that against your own situation in life. Maybe you stayed in this past weekend. Or you are still unemployed, or working part time, or living at home or somewhere isolated and are away from all of your friends. That can lead to us being unhappy, but doesn’t mean Facebook will make us unhappy.

Facebook was the topic of choice because it’s got over 500 million users, and is the topic of Oscar and Time mania. But what Facebook shows, as well as other forms of social media like Twitter and blogs, is that we create an image of ourselves (perhaps an “avatar,” James Cameron?) for the outside world to perceive. And others perceive these images, and judge themselves against them. So you can start to feel down in the dumps when you think your image just isn’t quite cutting it.

That unhappiness on Facebook and social media is human-created. Most social media is intended to make you feel happy. Just take any of the “like,” “friending,” and “poking” options on Facebook (although I don’t know if poking is a happy thing). Or the “retweeting” option on Twitter. But like a lot of things in life, it’s not necessarily a black-and-white distinction between the two.

A lot of the predicament stems from your current situation in life. I use my blog not as a forum to air my personal problems -- that's saved for my closest friends because they’re the best at helping me solve them. Rather I use it as a place to continuously grow in terms of my creative expressions, and that makes me happy. Regardless of what’s happening on Facebook.

Devilishly Good Reading

2011-01-31T06:00:00.000-08:00

Although I’m a history major, I’m not a go-to source on historical literature. My philosophy in college was that I read enough history books. In Professor Einhorn’s 103 course, we read a book a week. That came out to ten different history books, and that was just one course during the semester. When I found time for other forms of reading, I decided to go for something more escapist and not grounded in facts. But I’m a college graduate, and I’ve got time to read anything I want now.

To demonstrate that point, I just finished reading “The Devil In The White City” by Erik Larson, a piece of historical literature. It’s a very good, exciting, and interesting book and it’s all based in historical fact. If you’re unfamiliar with the novel, it centers around the Chicago World’s Fair at the end of the 19th century. The novel follows the personal stories of two very different individuals at the fair, Daniel Burnham and H. H. Holmes. The former was the lead architect and organizer of the Fair, the latter a serial murderer luring people to their deaths in Chicago at the time of the Fair.

I’m not going to give any spoilers here, because I’d definitely bump it up to the top of any “to-read” list. Larson writes historical fiction very well. None of the dialogue in the book is fictional, it all comes from diaries, letters, newspaper accounts, etc. Also, Holmes and Burnham never met in real-life, but Larson interweaves their stories in a way that makes you turn the pages pretty fast. Not because you want to skip a lot, but because you want to get to the details. Sometimes the fair’s construction is unbelievably interesting (like its longest-lasting contribution), and sometimes Holmes’s murder plots are blood curdling and riveting.

That being said, there are certain limitations to historical fiction. And one of Larson’s biggest strengths in this book turned out to be my biggest complaint with the book as well. The dialogue at times drags, because it’s all from periodicals and journals. But the bigger issue is that the storyline is predetermined, and Larson can’t take many liberties with constructing deeper personalities or conversations than what is illuminated through his research.

But I’d say that’s probably a minor complaint. Overall, this book is unbelievably interesting, because it further cultivates my interest in urban history by examining the rise of Chicago. I have been to Chicago before in my life, and to think that these buildings once stood where they did and that hundreds of thousands of people crowded the spaces over a century before I was there is astounding. Just think, this book ends, and the Cubbies win their latest World Series a decade later.

If there is a true hero that comes out stronger in “The Devil In The White City,” it’s Chicago. Plus, my family has deep ties to Chicago, so this is definitely a nice tie-in for the next conversations I have with them when the 2011 Holiday season begins. Nine months from now.

The Weight Is Always Great

2011-01-28T06:00:00.000-08:00

“Take a load off Fanny, take a load for free

Take a load off Fanny, and you put the load right on me”

- “The Weight” by The Band

In Tahoe, we had three acoustic guitars. An electric guitar. A bass guitar. A banjo. And a set of bongos. They were never played. Just kidding, we jammed the shit out of them.

Two of our favorite jams were “Say It Ain’t So” by Weezer and “The Weight” by The Band. The former I have probably heard way too much of in my life, first after repeated plays of The Blue Album, then after repeated plays of RockBand, and finally after a week of repeated playing in Tahoe. But the latter I’ll never be able to get enough of.

What is it about “The Weight” that makes it such an amazing song? The same thing that I love about Tacos. Everything! Everything from the simply walk-down intro and transitionary chorus, to the three-chord verses, to the three-chord choruses. Robbie Robertson entirely outdid himself writing this song, although the entire band comes through, in every aspect. Levon Helm’s vocals are hauntingly beautiful, with Rick Danko’s bass and Helm’s drums plodding throughout the song. Even the piano flourishes in the choruses are wonderful.

Everything about “The Weight” is wonderful. And I’m not the only one to think that.

Just look at the wikipedia page, under “Cover Versions” and see how many people have covered this song. It’s unreal how this song is so internationally (remember, The Band’s from Canada) acclaimed. I’d say it’s the only song that could possibly replace “Tiny Dancer” during the bus scene in “Almost Famous.”

One of my favorite shows I went to was on New Year’s Day, 2010, featuring The Ofersures. A local favorite in the South Bay, the Ofersures always end their shows with an encore cover of “The Weight.” People come up on stage and sing it. Everyone in the audience sings it. During the show Sherif Shoucri had to play with the opposite-handed guitar, and was sitting down the entire time, but even he was singing it. “The Weight” is just that powerful of a song.

So naturally, there wasn’t a better song to epitomize the awesome time we all had in Tahoe. Granted, we forgot most of the lyrics whenever we were singing it. And I have a terrible time singing and playing guitar at the same time, so a few of the times I just entirely skipped chords. Will came in a few times too early with the chorus, always.

But when all the pieces finally clicked, and that A chord struck in the chorus, it was purely magical. I’d easily put “The Weight” up there in my top ten greatest songs of all-time, based on that trip alone. Maybe even my top five. Take a moment to listen to it. And if you've got more than a moment, I'd suggest you watch "The Last Waltz."

Interesting side note. Weezer covered “The Weight” on The Red Album. While that album sucks, the cover of “The Weight” might be the best track on there. And it’s not that great of a cover even. Come on Weezer, play better!

The Oscars, With A Month To Go

2011-01-27T06:00:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite days of the year: Academy Award nominations. Unless it’s 2010, in which case I feel like repeatedly prodding myself with a taser. If you missed it -- highly likely because I’m from Los Angeles and put way too much interest into the Oscars, and you might be from a place that has its priorities more aptly placed -- last year the Academy decided to do two stupid things. First, they decided to nominate ten Best Pictures, rather than five. And second, they decided to do it in a year where finding five Best Pictures was tough enough. Finding ten was scraping the bottom of the Oscar-barrel.

Needless to say after last year’s fiasco, in which an animated Pixar movie would have made the top five best films of the year (again with talking dogs), I was a bit anxious. The Golden Globes led me to believe we were in for another treat, with films like "Burlesque," "Red," and "The Tourist" receiving accolades. But then Mo’Nique and Tom Sherak, apparently the Academy President, showed that they can get some things right: ten movies that, when paired up against the ten from last year, would probably top all of them. Well, "The Kids Are All Right" would have a bit of trouble.

What are my initial thoughts on this year’s Oscar nods? Besides the fact that, well, Hollywood had a rebound year in terms of movies that were worth seeing and I’ve been happy to oblige them? I think the most interesting point is that, on the surface, the Academy is showing that it might try to reverse its trends of ignoring traditional oscar-bait.

I’m referring to "The King’s Speech" garnering the most nominations, which in my mind is kind of silly. It was great in the acting categories, and I left with a smile. But 12 nominations? Really? You might as well have put it up for Foreign Language, based on all the accents and speech impediments. Don’t get me wrong, it’s the front-runner in my book. But I’m curious to see how many it actually comes away with. It would be the first historical/biopic movie since "A Beautiful Mind" to win, and I’m stoked if that’s the case. "True Grit" garnering 10 was also a bit of a surprise, which leads me to my next point.

The Academy has selected its heir to Martin Scorsese in Christopher Nolan. Granted, the directors selected for Best Director are deserving of their nominations, but when you look at Christopher Nolan’s body of work you can see that the job he did in "Inception" was just another day at the office. He is that talented. Yet the Academy saw it fit to give the Coen Brothers, fresh off a win for "No Country For Old Men" a few years ago, another nomination. Even they acknowledged all the nominations "True Grit" got were a bit much. It might not be a while until the Academy recognizes how truly talented Christopher Nolan is, since it will be tough to outdo himself after "Inception" and "The Dark Knight."

Finally, I would have liked to see Daft Punk recognized on the soundtrack selection. Maybe even in the Best Supporting Actor category too, because that cameo definitely made "Tron." Hopefully the Academy decides to have them cameo at the Oscars. Come on guys you’ve got a month, figure it out!

A Rebuttal To Dogs, By Jesse Tow

2011-01-26T06:00:00.000-08:00

Today is special because it's the first Guest Post on Calvin After Cal. Ever. And what's more, Wednesdays from now will feature different Authors in my Guest Post Series. My experiences are shared with so many wonderful, amazing, and interesting friends. And I'm asking my friends to share what's on their minds, the things that make them so all-out-awesome.

To kick off my Guest Post Series, "A Rebuttal To Dogs" is written by Jesse Tow. Jesse is the first person I met at Berkeley, has a tumblr, and lives in Lubbock, Texas where the bars are open on Christmas Day.

First off, I have respect for dogs. They have integrity. Dogs are also more versatile than a shotgun (as far as protection and companionship goes) since some positively badass breeds are easier to acquire and look cuter upside down. However, when compared to cats, dogs are false.

Calvin contends that the many makes and marks of dogs are a plus, but I don’t know about that. Sure, it makes dog ownership kind of like a “choose your own adventure,” but that really only leads to disagreements over what dog is best. Were dogs to gather for a convention, they’d only bicker with each other, and only a few would make it out alive. Especially if dogs trust Chip (or “T-Rex” as some call him) to host the event.

The millennia of specialized breeding that created dog diversity also had another consequence, one which puts them at a decided disadvantage against cats: dogs are extremely stupid. You may think your dog is smart because it knows nouns or is especially deft at fetch, but ponder what you’re bragging about for a moment. That loyal, protective beast you throw squeaky toys to is only so loyal and protective because he would be lost without an owner. Even “smarter” dogs are entirely dependent on their owners. In my view, that does not inspire confidence in dogs, only pity. That’s why I prefer cats.

Cats do not need to be groomed, they can do it themselves. Fine by me, I don’t like having to look after another’s beauty hygiene anyway. They are independent creatures who can find their own food, explore, and enjoy themselves on their own. Does that take some of the fun out of owning a pet? If you’re a dog fanatic, you probably said yes. But consider this: do you look for those basic qualities in a friend and companion? If so, go grab a cat by the scruff of its neck and welcome it into your household.

Yes, cats can be moody, disinterested, and may completely reject you as an owner. But hey, that’s like real life. Dogs love everybody, that inadequately prepares children for socialization. The challenge of a cat is superior training for life, minus the name-calling and fits of psychosis that Amy Chua (author and advocate for “Chinese mothers” who has gained recent notoriety) recommends.

History also proves that cats are better. The following facts are so well-known I don’t even need to cite them. Not only did ancient Egyptians worship them, but the term “cat” entered lexicon as a synonym for a cool person long before dog gained widespread usage. Although they jumped the shark a long time ago, lolcats are first-ballot internet hall of famers for making the leap from message board viral to mainstream, grandma-email-forwarding viral. A blessing and a curse, to be sure.

Cats win. Now it’s time to go tend to my elderly, 18 year old Mane Coon. Like any person approaching Al Davis-level dotage, she whines a lot and hangs out upstairs all the time (reminiscent of Miss Havisham, for the Dickens enthusiasts out there). I appreciate that my cat is sentient enough to know that she deserves special treatment.

The State Of The Union

2011-01-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

A year ago and one day, I was watching the State Of The Union address in Washington DC at the UCDC Center with my buddy Aaron. Fortunately, this year there’s been no scheduling conflicts with American Idol and Lost season premieres. So here are the different points that I would like to see Obama talk about in his speech today:

Unity -- Less than three weeks after the shooting in Tucson, and only two months removed from a Republican resurgence in the November Midterm elections, this is a theme Obama should stress. It very would could be the theme of the entire speech. But I expect him to continue stressing that our national discourse must change, we need to get away from the “red and blue” states and toward the “United States.” And you’ll see that when all the audience is seated together, rather than by party. But I hope that he talks about a need to step forward together beyond symbolic gestures, and in the way we conduct ourselves.

Recovery -- We saw an economy that was looking better and better last year, and then we saw international economies like Greece and Ireland bottom out. Since then economic recovery has been sluggish at best, in part because recovery today centers around austerity. “How do we balance the budget?” is the biggest question plaguing Washington, and any perceived recovery measures will have to answer this question.

Washington is giving up on its Keynesian pursuits economics, preferring to go the route of Herbert Hoover and other Great Depression-era Republicans instead. While Obama is going to heed these calls, I hope he keeps pushing for new measure like his Recovery Act. I definitely see the success it’s had on safer, cleaner roads while I’ve been traveling these past few months. That’s a plus, but I hope he doesn't solely suggest we throw stimulus measures.

Strengthen Jobs -- With China, the the second largest economy, visiting the United States last week, a large focus of the recovery section should be on job creation and competitiveness. But it would be nice to see Obama suggest that we need to innovate more, and outline specific proposals. Talk about how we need to reduce dependency on oil in light of the British Petroleum spill, and explore alternative sources of energy as a means to generate growth in the energy and automotive sectors. Hopefully he’ll have similar innovative solutions to propose in the speech, to accompany the proposed austerity measures.

Defend Yourself -- Obama came into the White House in 2008 wanting to create a Stimulus Package for Americans, reform the Healthcare System, and pass cap-and-trade legislation to combat Global Warming. He succeeded in passing the first two, but the last never materialized. Furthermore, all three have come under heavy fire during the Midterm elections, with Republicans notoriously trying to repeal the Healthcare bill this past week. While unity and compromise are an important theme of 2011, I don’t think that should lead to buckling under pressure and withdrawing from your principles. Obama should stand at that podium and tell us that he isn’t going to waiver from what he campaigned on in 2008.

I’m sure we’ll hear some of these points in his address, but will we hear all of it? Will there be any surprises? While I don’t know what surprises Obama has in store, I do know that Wednesday’s blog has a big surprise. So enjoy the State of the Union tonight, and tune back in tomorrow for a special treat!

Waiting For Super Bowl

2011-01-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

One of the gifts I got for Christmas was “Devil In The White City” by Erik Larsson. It’s one of those books that everyone seems to be reading, and is getting made into a movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio in a year. “Devil In The White City” follows the story of the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, and looks at the story of the lead architect of the fair and the serial killer running rampant in Chicago at the time. Oh, and it’s entirely non-fiction, based solely on quotes from newspapers and accounts in journals and diaries. I set out this weekend to finish reading this book so I could blog about it today.

But I failed. Thanks a lot Sunday’s football games.

For those that don’t like professional football, or sports in general, or just hate hearing Joe Buck and Troy Aikman talk, this post probably isn’t for you. And that just described the feelings of at least everyone in America, because no one likes Joe Buck’s announcing. Especially not Artie Lange. But seriously, Joe Buck sounds haughty, unenthusiastic, and bored in every game he announces. He’s equally uninspiring and condescending, and Troy Aikman is no better. I would rather a talking stove tell me the play-by-play. And then John Madden eat what that talking stove was cooking. I will explore the topic of why Joe Buck sucks so much when we’re deep in baseball season and I’m engaged even more in self-loathing.

Back to football. We now have our Super Bowl opponents: The Green Bay Packers and the Pittsburgh Steelers. Yippee, you did it! But to anticipate the Super Bowl, let’s look at who I really cared about making it.

In the AFC, we had:

1. Patriots -- I would have liked this only because it’s never clearer who you should root against. Unless you’re playing the Soviet Union or the Death Star.

2. Steelers -- The only player in the NFL I dislike more than Hines Ward is Philip Rivers. Oh wait, Hines Ward is playing in the Super Bowl? Shit.

3. Colts -- Peyton Manning was just there. And doesn’t he have some Sony commercials to get to?

4. Chiefs -- My preference to represent the AFC, because they had a dynamic rushing offense and I had Jamaal Charles on my fantasy team for most of the season.

5. Ravens -- You’re the Red Sox to the Steelers Yankees. I wouldn't root for Benito Mussolini either.

6. Jets -- I would have loved two weeks of Rex Ryan spewing batshit and volcanic acid from his mouth before the Super Bowl, but it wasn't meant to be.

And in the NFC, there was:

1. Falcons -- Cool, your team is just four really good offensive players. Kidding, that's dumb.

2. Bears -- You have Rex Grossman 2.0 starting at QB. And as we found out yesterday, the corpse of Todd Collins is your backup, and a prepubescent teenager who is growing facial hair for the first time is the guy you actually go with at third string? Next time, just run direct snaps to Devin Hester, Matt Forte, and Brian Urlacher on every play.

3. Eagles -- Entertaining prospect, since I was watching DeSean Jackson return punts against the Pac-10 and Tennessee. Not a bad call, but not where my heart was at.

4. Seahawks -- Marshawn Lynch, Justin Forsett, and Brandon Mebane. Lots of Cal on this team as well, but we’re not quite there yet.

5. Saints -- Nope, you had your time last year.

6. Packers -- Wait, is that a former Cal quarterback you’ve got there? Does he have real facial hair? And is that my second favorite Cal linebacker (to this current one)? I think I’ll take the Pack.

So at stake in this Super Bowl is school pride. Not only will I be rooting for Cal to have its first Super Bowl winning quarterback. But I’ll also be rooting against my buddy Tim, because Ben Roethlisberger went to his alma mater, Miami Ohio. And he’s a douche. Ready for tons of vicious and witty texts like that Tim? Thought so.

Alright, time to finish that book.

Birds Of A Feather

2011-01-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

“Two birds on a wire, one tries to fly away and the other

Watches him close from that wire,

He says he wants to as well, but he is a liar”

- “Two Birds” by Regina Spektor

As I was parsing through my previous music columns, I realized there are a lot of artists missing from my Friday’s. But here's who I have picked thus far, in order of appearance: None More Black, The Gaslight Anthem, Blink 182, The Replacements, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Explosions In The Sky, Gorilla Biscuits, Green Day, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, The Loved Ones, Tom Waits, Polar Bear Club, Miley Cyrus, The Bouncing Souls, The Explosion, Girl Talk, The Beatles, Guns N’ Roses, The Killers, In My Eyes, The Ofersures, Led Zeppelin, Iggy And The Stooges, Queen, and iancalvinken.

Twenty-six artists and twenty-seven music columns, since I used The Gaslight Anthem twice. I am amazed that I’ve come up with so many different things to talk about that are loosely related to a single song lyric. And so many different styles of music, from punk to classic rock to mash-ups to swing jazz. Granted I used the Gorilla Biscuits song “Sitting‘ Round At Home” to simply state I was sitting around at home and didn’t have any internet because Comcast sucked. But for the most part I’ve had consistently lengthy, and generally insightful, looks at music each Friday.

I feel accomplished knowing I’ve kept this going. The music theme, but the blog as a whole too. Granted 2010 had stops for my internship in Feinstein’s office and for me to find my footing in the employment race. But as a whole, I’ve stuck to the original mission of my blog: to refine my writing in roughly 500-word exercises, and to share it with others.

It would be at this point that I used to force a transition to Regina Spektor, to wittily-yet-clumsily move back from this great revelation about my writing skills and talk about the lyric I quoted at the top of this post. But I’m not writing in the summer of 2009. I’m an unemployed college graduate living in January of 2011. My writing has evolved and I avoid forcing segues if they aren’t there.

Regina Spektor is one of my favorite artists. I would complain to Luke in Europe that I wanted to just listen to Regina Spektor and cry, partly because he hated hearing that and partly because it was true. Cry in a cathartic way, mind you. There is such a thing. Anyway, “Two Birds” is my favorite song by her. The storyline she paints with her lyrics is always vivid, heartwarming, and pure, and “Two Birds” is no exception. Her piano melodies are never overly complicated, and as a beginning piano student I can grasp some of them (for the opposite, see Ben Folds). But I like “Two Birds” for, appropriately, two specific reasons.

First, the bass line is played by a tuba. Second, the vocal melody during the final verse (at about 2:20) is absurdly pretty. It’s not entirely different from how she sings the other verses, but she keeps rising and flying away as if her voice is one of those two birds. And then it comes back down normally, returning to the wire like it was the other bird.

That I hadn’t written about Regina Spektor was puzzling. Writing on my blog makes me feel good, and listening to Regina Spektor makes me feel happy. Glad I finally made that connection.

On The Radio (Misc.)

2011-01-20T06:00:00.000-08:00

I’ve always had an affinity for talk radio. It’s in part because I grew up listening to NPR as my mom cooked, or KNX as my dad drove throughout town. Hearing people like Robert Seagull, Bob Edwards, Cokie Roberts, Carl Kasell, and Jean Cochran was always soothing. Not to mention informative. So now whenever I go driving, my first instinct is to put on NPR. And as I drove around Los Angeles yesterday, three remarkable points struck me throughout the day's various broadcasts of NPR.

The first point was a study about genetics and how it plays into the social relationships between people. Humans have 23 sets of genes, and various genes will determine character traits among people. Scientists contend that lots of diseases, such as alcoholism and heart failure, are more likely passed along by genes through family lineage. The argument that was made during this broadcast was that genes will influence who we structure our friendships and relationships around.

At the outset this sounds pretty obvious. If you like to drink, you will probably become friends with others that like to drink (going to a bar, joining a fraternity, etc.) rather than meeting people who do not like to drink. And you will probably spend time enjoying the behaviors that your group of friends have in common. This doesn’t discount the “opposites attract” theory of relationship, it only suggests that “commonalities attract” more easily.

Yet what I found interesting was that our genes are a starting point but aren’t necessarily the end-all. And behaviors can obviously change, as well as tastes and preferences. It’s a logical contradiction -- knowing that you are prone to alcoholism, you set out to prove that you are not prone to alcoholism. This can cause you to meet others who are not interested in alcoholism as well, and potentially change your behavior. In this instance, “opposites attract” holds.

I found it interesting reflecting upon the friends that I have. When I consider my friends in high school, and my friends in college, they are entirely different groups of people many of whom have never met one another. But in my mind I feel that they would largely be able to relate if they were to meet, because I’ve formed my friendships based largely upon interests that are commonly shared: humor (sarcasm, wit, repetition of monosyllabic phrases, etc.), pop culture, creativity, and so on. Whether or not the “commonalities” or “opposites” would manifest themselves actually is something I might never find out.

The second point revolved around the first computer virus, created in the early 1980s. While today think of computer viruses that destroy our computers and force us to pretty much throw away the entire machine, this one was simpler. The virus was installed on a mainframe, and whenever people inserted a floppy disc it was uploaded. People would take the floppy disc back to their homes and use it on their personal computers, and after you rebooted your computer for the 50th time it would display a poem, called “Elk Cloner.” Read it. Isn't it just adorable?

The third point was a quote that I heard, about when you realize it’s futile to repair relationships. “You don’t go rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.”

On Carli Raben

2011-01-19T06:00:00.000-08:00

Before I begin, one last snippet about why cats are dumber than dogs. Would a dog ever get selected for jury duty? Answer: No.

Today, I’m toasting my close friend Carli Raben. She just found out that she's been accepted by Teach For America to teach in New Orleans after she graduates from Berkeley. One of the shining lights throughout my time at Berkeley and in Washington, I’m unbelievably proud of her and this accomplishment. Teach For America has no idea what they’ve got themselves into by picking Carli.

For those of you that haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Carli in person, you’re missing out. She was born in Hollywood, Florida. Yes, there is another Hollywood not in California, and she describes it as “a wonderful and diverse community.” Her family is gigantic and extended beyond all belief, but her dad is amazingly a native Floridian while her mother moved to Florida from Virginia when she was in her teens. She grew up eating chicken parmesan subs and watching movies with Leslie Nielsen.

I first came to know Carli at Berkeley through the Intramural Sports program, where I was a softball umpire and she was a volleyball referee. Unbeknownst to me she’d played both, softball since age 5 and volleyball since high school, so naturally I was blown away by her athletic prowess. Especially when contrasted with my bumbling sportage.

But what I was truly impressed with was how Carli cared about everything she did. She’s not someone who mails in a day -- she’s always giving her best. She’s always speaking with and from her heart. She decided to be a history major too. And she has an undying love of Bruce Springsteen. So much so that many of our nights in college were spent listening, contemplating, surmising, rambling, gallivanting, pondering, postulating, hypothesizing, articulating, or discussing The Boss and his works. She never could pinpoint a favorite album of his though, since he spans so many different artistic planes. I’ve always been a “Darkness On The Edge Of Town” fan myself.

If you ever have the pleasure of also calling her “my friend Carli,” you will be truly blessed as well. The students she will be instructing for the next two years in New Orleans don’t know how profoundly their lives will change. Nor do I think the world is ready for her, because she’s got some big aspirations. She might not have a specific profession picked out, but she knows she wants to make an impact. She’s inspired by journeys, personal growth, and loves considering what people are capable of. She loves people that aren’t afraid to love either.

New Orleans has no idea how hard it’s going to get rocked (like a hurricane? too soon?) It’s already got another close friend of mine in Tim Abel, a current law student at Tulane. But it’s only going to get better when Carli Raben gets there this summer. I’m definitely coming to visit. And until you’re there Carli, enjoy the feeling of success. I’m sure you’ll be shining even brighter, like a new dime.

And to quote the late-and-great Leslie Nielsen, “Good Luck. We’re All Counting On You.”

On Dogs

2011-01-18T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dogs. They are awesome, absurdly so. If you are reading and you have a dog, then you know exactly what I mean. They come in so many silly shapes and sizes, from ones that fit in your purse to ones that weigh more than you do. I grew up with a big Newfoundland, named Bowser, so I’m more partial to dog breeds that are gigantic. But your more moderately sized dogs are great too. Yesterday I was at my friend Luke’s house and spent some time playing with his neighbor’s Golden Retriever, Maddy. She is adorable, but let’s face it: almost every dog is.

When you get down into the lower-sizes of dogs, some people argue in favor of cats. That’s stupid, because I’m allergic to cats. But furthermore, cats are dumb, especially when compared to dogs. It’s almost unfair. Pit a tinier dog up against a cat, and the dog will win nine times out of 10. Is there scientific evidence for this, you ask? Yes there is. Just look at this article.

Summary for those too lazy to read it all: This dog Chaser, a border collie, knows 1,022 different nouns. She associates specific nouns with objects ranging from stuffed toys to different colored balls to plastic animals, and probably a bunch of shoes and newspapers she took from her owner. Basically, the article asks whether this is a step in building language for dogs, but stops short of suggesting dogs will soon talk to us like in Up! The article does not suggest this because that would be too awesome a world to live in.

But what we’re at right now is a pretty awesome world, because dogs are paws-down awesome. They can learn 1,022 different nouns. That’s more than some political leaders have learned. And judging from the Mad Libs I did as a kid (noun - butt, noun - fart), it’s more than I knew when I was a youngling. So it’s safe to say that dogs are intelligent. I don’t see any cats building their vocabularies; they’re just sitting around scratching things and being dumb and the like.

When I get a dog, I want to get a big dog. Akitas, Bernese Mountain Dogs, Newfoundlands, and Siberian Huskies all come to mind. That day is not in the immediate future, but to bide my time until then I offer up my top-five names for potential dog names.

5. William Jennings Bryan - Because what is a top-five list of potential names for dogs without a historical figure? And what is history without William Jennings Bryan? The appropriate answer to both is “nothing,” while this name would be perfect for a Basset Hound. Or any yappy dog.

4. Mister Slippery/Jack Rack-Em - These are both nicknames you can give players in NHL Hitz. They hold a special place in my heart, just as dogs do. These are great names for Jack Russell Terriers.

3. General Pepper - He’s the dog in Starfox. You know, the one who has no background in military strategy whatsoever and doesn’t understand the skills necessary to traverse an asteroid field. I would name a Chocolate Lab this.

2. Professor Waffle - Thank you to Kristen Elderson for this one. If I don’t ever end up owning a Great Pyrenees (because they look like they’re wearing the professorial gown) or a Siberian Huskie, then I’m going to name a character in a novel or screenplay this.

1. Slayer - Because is there a more terrifying prospect than yelling “SLAYER” to a super big dog like a Newfoundland or Saint Bernard? And then to have it ironically be the most gentle, obedient and friendly dog in the world? That’s why I’m naming my dog Slayer.

In conclusion, dogs.

King's Speech

2011-01-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

If you were watching the Golden Globes last night, you might have caught a comment by Tom Hooper, the Director of The King’s Speech. “Two years ago when I googled the title of my movie, the only thing that came up was Martin Luther King, I have a Dream.” How appropriate, that the Golden Globes ended and the day in which we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr.‘s birthday began. Hooper went on to state “...We’re on the eve of his birthday, which reminds us of the incredible importance of speech-making that changed national consciousness at the time, at key moments in history.”

Well said Tom Hooper. Your film was about the burdens that are placed on public figures to reassure the public in time of distress. If you haven’t seen The King’s Speech by now, I highly recommend checking it out. It’s a heartwarming film, which everyone needs to see once in a while (especially after Black Swan).

And today we remember another figure for his endeavors in the public arena. Last year I spent MLK Day on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I walked with a bunch of my friends down there in the afternoon, and throngs of people were walking around in remembrance. The a stone where the Reverend delivered his speech is marked on the steps. A park ranger was explaining the historical significance of the March On Washington in 1963, and replaying the speech itself on a boombox placed on the steps.

King’s Speech is an iconic text, worth reflecting on during this day. From a historical standpoint, the words that King spoke were the pinnacle of the Civil Rights movement. But these demands for racial equality were manifested not in intangibles, but in specific requests. The March was officially known as “The March On Washington For Jobs And Freedom” and called for measures of economic equality as well. The organizers for the march were not just African American groups, but labor and religious organizations as well.

But what we remember from that March is King’s Speech. And as Tom Hooper pointed out, the fact that we remember his Speech is a testament to the “incredible importance” that speeches can have on “key moments in history.” We remember them. Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address is inscribed on one of the walls in his memorial, his Second Inaugural Address on another. Last week we all contemplated President Obama’s words at the Tucson Memorial. And movie lines stick in the public's collective mind, from “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn” to “Here's looking at you kid.” Or every quote from The Big Lebowski, in the case of my friends and I.

So what better way to begin remembering Martin Luther King, Jr. today on this day dedicated to him than by his own words. They defined the Civil Rights movement. And his remarks weren’t limited to that area alone. Just look at his speech “Beyond Vietnam” delivered in 1965, a denunciation of America’s involvement in that War. If you’re lucky and have today off, why not read some of Reverend King's texts? That's what I'll be doing today -- reading the texts of speeches that we consider to be great.

The Release Of "Blind Ambition. Skinny Jeans."

2011-01-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

“We take these long nights back to the sound of a railroad track

The kind that you never hear until it’s much too late.”

- “Until This Train Finds Its Way Back To You” by iancalvinken

Two years ago, my close friends Ian and Ken traveled abroad. Ian went to London to study drama while Ken went to Cairo to study Arabic. They both studied at USC, so it wasn’t like we were living across the street from one another. But when you find your friends halfway around the world, the USC to Berkeley distance doesn’t seem like much anymore. So feeling a bit left out, I looked for ways to close that distance.

But there’s another part. Our friendships went back to high school, and one of our closest bonds was the appreciation and playing of music. While I don’t think the three of us had officially played in a band together at the same time, we were all at one point or another members of The Noise during our high school days.

So combining these two factors, I came up with a novel idea. We would create music, while living on three separate continents. I started by emailing Ken and Ian some random guitar parts that I’d recorded on my laptop. Just simple chords, maybe lead and rhythm parts recorded separately. I provided the notation of how it was played (often something in the key of F# minor, my randomly favorite key). Then I suggested they listen and re-record their own renditions or additional parts. Maybe write lyrics to it.

Thus a musical ensemble was created. And none of its members lived in the same time zone, let alone continent. But we kept sending tracks and lyrics back and forth, for most of 2009. August rolled around, and we were all back home. So we decided to get together and play what we’d come up with. There were four different tracks, but only two were really finished. And none of it sounded good. Turned out the experiment needed more work.

We returned to school for fall of 2009, and kept sending songs back and forth to each other. Then things started to die down, and we became more concerned with graduation, and our immediate plans. But a funny thing happened. In August of 2010, we all happened to be in the same place. One year after we first tried to record, we did it again. Seven songs this time. And this time they all sounded good. By the holidays I’d finished mixing “Blind Ambition. Skinny Jeans.” and iancalvinken’s first release was ready.

But what is this ultimate culmination of music? First, it’s a seven song compilation of our individual eclecticism and collective musicality. I won’t go into detail about how each song was initially conceived, because there are so many components of all three of us in each song. You can hear that on the opening track, “Until This Train Finds Its Way Back To You,” with all three of us singing vocal harmonies at the end. Even the two solo performances on the album have input from everyone in them.

Second, this is a culmination of music that I am truly proud to share. While none of us had access to a drumset, these are seven strong acoustic arrangements. The instrumentation is creative, my personal favorite being the way the album ends on “Oh Captain, My Captain.” And the lyrics are illustrative and storytelling, as you can hear on “Conquest” and “Time.” In essence, these seven tracks reflect the diversity of experiences three friends encountered during their time on three separate continents, as well as after.

I’m excited to share them with you.

You can download “Blind Ambition. Skinny Jeans.” here. The album title comes from a misheard lyric by Against Me!, as well as a desire for us to show off on the album cover.

Hearing Obama Speak In Tucson

2011-01-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

As I hopped into the car around 6 o’clock this past evening, I turned on NPR because that’s what I do. President Obama was speaking from Tucson at the memorial service for those killed on Saturday, and I can’t remember a single time yet in my life that I was more enamored by a public speaker. And I wasn’t even watching him speak, personally or on television.

I was just listening on a radio, driving along to pick up my mother. And as I drove along, I pictured my grandmother sitting around a radio when she was younger, listening to Franklin Roosevelt during the Great Depression and those fire side chats. It’s the power of voice to soothe, calm, and heal that is so profound, and at times mystifying. At this moment, Barack Obama possessed that power.

The content of what he was saying was by no means unique or entirely innovative. Pundits have been saying we need to clean up our national discourse ever since the shootings on Saturday, myself included. If you want to look for a groundbreaking speech, I’d say his address on race during the 2008 campaign or his address to the Muslim World in 2009 are emblematic. Not necessarily his remarks at the Tucson Memorial Service.

What his words did provide was what we oftentimes look for in times of trouble and tragedy: calm and healing. For most of the speech, it was dignified, citing the accomplishments of the deceased to the bravery of those at the shooting site. But at all times, the speech felt inclusive.

Inclusive. That’s the word I’ve been trying to put my finger on. Obama turned the speech inward throughout, and made all Americans feel like they had been in Tucson on January 8th. He pointed out how, when you lose a member of your family, you question. You wonder about the time you spent with them, whether you were grateful of their sacrifices, or whether you simply told them you loved them. And if you did it every day.

But then he went on, and pointed the discussion forward. Because loss causes one to consider the future, and to reevaluate their position going forward. Again, these words were by no means groundbreaking. But in my mind they were breathtaking, both because of the moment and President Obama’s eloquence. I remember George W. Bush speaking in the wake of September 11th, another national tragedy. But I did not feel the same chord struck that I did listening to today’s President on the radio.

That’s in part because his speech, the tragedy last Saturday, and losses in general are something I can relate to. The loss I experienced when my father passed nearly a year ago was tough, yet it’s something that has helped me shape my life going forward. I have grieved but I have also grown. And listening to Obama speak in Tucson, both to memorialize the fallen, as well as uplift the nation, was something that I related to. I felt that inclusive connection.

Hopefully this feeling of inclusion will be a long-lasting one. If you haven't heard the speech already, I recommend you take the time to do so here.

Trivia Night

2011-01-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

Team “Trivia Starts at Eight” won trivia last evening. That was our team name, because a new announcer was at Grunion’s and didn’t start the trivia competition until 8:30. Yes, our team is a bunch of assholes because we’ve won a lot. I honestly don’t know how many times our team of random conglomerations has won, because I have only gone to a few matches and that’s the case for pretty much everyone.

What is this obsession with trivia nights at bars? Or with sporcle and qrank on the internet? Or (reaching all the way back to high school) Scholar Quiz? Simply put, it’s a way to embrace my love of useless knowledge that, in my opinion, is entirely useful because I am so into trivia. Circular logic, I know. But since I was young I loved to learn about super dorky things: dinosaurs, the planets and outerspace, Star Wars. This was accompanied by my watching older films, because my family raised me to appreciate classic cinema (in my previous blog I cited Court Jester and Yellow Submarine among my childhood favorite films).

Sure, my love of inane facts plays perfectly into the “Revenge of the Nerd” stereotype from the 80s. 1984, specifically, starring Robert Carradine, half-brother of David Carradine, to be exact. But after you leave high school, nerds aren’t a social class that people are disturbed by. Well, let’s rephrase that. Nerds who are good at useless trivia knowledge but still can maintain social networking skills don’t disturb people. And that’s the crux of my argument:

Trivia is a social lubricant, and a means to bring people together.

It’s a friendly competition that can help you meet new people. In my case, most all of my greatest friends and I have participated in some sort of trivia competition at one point or another. I’ve gone to trivia nights in Berkeley at Beckett’s, Bear’s Lair, Henry’s, and Albatross. I’ve had trivia competitions in Manhattan Beach at Grunion’s, and played in the March Madness bracket style competition of Scholar Quiz in High School. And in Washington I attended the 51st State and Tonic trivia nights.

The friendly competition with others in the room can unite your group of friends. You can learn something new about people, like they are well-versed in varying boxing classes, or know the Academy Awards a little too well. And maybe you can just get drunk with people and make fun of how seriously everyone else in the room is taking the situation by coming up with a rude or preposterous team name.

One of my most brilliant trivia experiences was this past September, when my friend Katie and I won trivia at Tonic. We’d been competing there with various groups of people for over a year, and never finished closer than third. But the two of us went one more time, and with the name “Team Slayer” defeated a bunch of preppy Georgetown and George Washington clowns. Granted we had a bunch of questions about the midwest, Michael Jackson singles, and the preseason AP college football poll. Yet that’s how trivia goes, you either know it or you don’t.

And either way you most likely love it. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to see how many countries of the world I can name.

Is That Guy's Name Lutzenkirchen?

2011-01-11T06:00:00.000-08:00

Well, I’m glad that’s all over with. College football in general, not just the national title game. Now don’t get me wrong, it was a thrilling national title game, and the exact opposite of what it was billed to be. The nation’s most dynamic offenses? 0-0 after the first quarter. 22-19 at the end of the game. The team I would've preferred to win, losing.

But that college football season was a doozy, not necessarily in the good way. I’m a fan of storylines, but not recurring storylines that don’t get resolution. Example: the Cam Newton saga. Browsing Facebook right after the game, a lot of my friends (a majority of which are Pac-10 school attendees, mind you) are all saying “Congratulations on the National Championship [soon to be vacated]” and “Looking forward to the Auburn investigation SEC?” Great, super exciting.

The title game did have its highlights, and I’d recommend you check them out if you didn’t. Michael Dyer - Somehow managing to keep knees, elbows, and every other body part off the field on a mysterious 30+ yard run. Nick Fairley doing his Ndamukong Suh impression. Oregon faking a punt first for a first down, then Darron Thomas throwing across his body for a nifty two-point conversion. Definitely some highlights.

But again, I am glad it’s all over with. This was a long, drawn out season of college football for me and my friends. Cal started out the season by fielding two different teams, a monstrous team at home and a poopy team away. And then they decided to just mail in the season over the last few weeks, missing the first bowl game of the Tedford era. USC was on probation, so there wasn’t really anything to play for but they still started out strong. And then lost to Oregon, and had quiet losses to Oregon State and Notre Dame at the end of the season. UCLA beat Texas, and then went bottom up. Oregon and Stanford were in a two-team race, but I have barely any friends at Stanford to discuss the game about and all my friends from Oregon are currently bumming about losing another BCS bowl game.

So the SEC remains dominant. Woopty-doo. That’s about the best comeback I have right now, because my zeal for college football has seemingly vanished. Luckily it’s just in time for the end of the football season, and I can allow myself to cool the jets, recharge the batteries, and search for more metaphors about taking time off.

To explain how my love for college football took a major hit this season (if the 5-7, Jekyll/Hyde Golden Bears, bowl-less performance wasn’t enough) allow me to illustrate how I rooted in the final bowl games. If I was watching a bowl game, I looked not at a team’s approach to the game, nor the backstories of its players, or certainly not its record from the season. I looked at the names of the players from the game and rooted for the sillier sounding ones, or ones that I could turn into puns.

During bowl season, I rooted for the entire Wisconsin Badgers’ backfield - Montee Ball, John “Henry” Clay, James White. An Oregon Duck wide-receiver - Jeff Maehl (Jeff’s in the Mail). An Arkansas Razorback quarterback - Ryan Mallet (Hammer down!) And an Auburn Tiger tight-end - Philip Lutzenkirchen. His last name didn’t even fit on the back of his jersey. I think I need a break from college football.

A Prayer For Gabrielle Giffords

2011-01-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

There was a shooting in Tucson, Arizona on Saturday morning outside a Safeway. Twenty people were shot, six fatally. Among them was Gabrielle Giffords, a Democratic Congresswoman, John M. Roll, Arizona’s chief federal judge, Gabriel Zimmerman, a Congressional aide, and Christina Green, a nine-year old girl. Gabrielle Giffords was reelected to a third-term in the House of Representatives this past November, and was holding a Meet-And-Greet -- “Congress on your Corner” -- for Arizonans to talk to her.

Jared L. Loughner showed up with a semi-automatic weapon and shot the victims. Bystanders overwhelmed the shooter as he tried to reload his gun, preventing what would have been many more casualties and restraining him from moving.

Congresswoman Giffords remains in critical condition in the hospital, as a bullet traveled through the left side of her brain all the way through. Doctors are cautiously optimistic about her recovery. Dr. Peter Rhee articulated the situation by stating “when you get shot in the head and a bullet goes through your brain, the chances of you living are very small, and the chances of you waking up and actually following commands is even much smaller than that.” Gabrielle Giffords has done both of those things already, but let’s all pray that her recovery, however long it may take, is successful.

What has happened in the aftermath of this shooting is a smattering of political viewpoints offered. That's to be expected given that Gabrielle Giffords is a renowned political figure. Liberal blogs have pointed to a map published by Sarah Palin’s Political Action Committee during the 2010 campaign that used crosshairs to “target” specific politicians up for reelection, including Giffords. Conservatives have condemned the attack but noted that people are angry, and not solely Tea Party members, at the state of affairs in the political arena. Arizona has been called a hotly-contested and political divisive state by its own law enforcement officers and politicians.

What must happen in the wake of this tragedy is no more finger-pointing. No one side has far greater responsibility than the other, whether they are liberal or conservative, Democratic, Republican, Independent, or Tea Partier, or anything else. What all political players in this country are responsible for is the discourse with which politics are discussed. Discourse in this country has fallen into the gutter during the past few years, and routinely falls even further below human standards during election cycles. Not just the truthfulness of discourse. But also the maliciousness, hatefulness, and hurtfulness of what is discussed.

Discourse needs to change.

No one map pushed Loughner over the edge, nor did a piece of liberal legislation, or any one recession. Reports stated Loughner was delusional and angry for some time, a college dropout. But all of these factors work in tandem to create the negative climate we all live in today. The attendees of “Congress on your Corner” in Tucson on Saturday unfortunately saw what happens when an extreme, villainous person takes that climate to heart.

We must do better, as a nation and as a people. These are tough times, but people are measured by their resilience during tough times. Pray for the families of those six killed, the others injured, and for Gabrielle Giffords. And if she safely recovers I hope she will see a country peaceable and civil. A nation working with rather than divisively against one another.

The Year 2010: "Death on Two Legs"

2011-01-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

“Death on two legs

You never had a heart of your own”

- Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to...) by Queen

There are a few artists where the “Greatest Hits” albums suffice. Al Green, Elton John, and ELO come to mind. Queen used to be on that list, because “Classic Queen” had everything you could possibly want. Until I discovered the album “A Night At The Opera.”

It’s a tremendous album. Only two songs - Bohemian Rhapsody and You’re My Best Friend - made it onto “Classic Queen,” but the 10 others knock your socks right off and punch you right in the face. ’39 and The Prophet’s Song both come to mind, but you can’t overlook the album’s opener. Death on Two Legs is a whirlwind of a first track, reminiscent of the guitar and staccato pianos from Killer Queen a year earlier. Only this time it’s edgier and more personal.

Death on Two Legs was written as a “dedication to” the band’s former manager. Freddie Mercury would introduce the song by saying it was about a real “Motherfucker I used to know,” which speaks to how good of a dude he was. So do the lyrics, like “you’re a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride” and “you break the law and you preach.” Really speaks to how quality their manager was but also to the uncanny ability for Freddie to write candidly, bluntly, and amazing songs all at once.

Songs with vendettas and agendas have an advantage, in my opinion. A secret gasoline that propels them faster, makes their gears churn harder. Ballad of a Thin Man by Bob Dylan immediately comes to mind, which he wrote to spite people who didn’t understand his music, specifically reviewers. I find it to be the best song on “Highway 61 Revisited,” in all its slow and plodding but hauntingly aggressive five minutes. And there are countless hardcore songs by Minor Threat to Ceremony to In My Eyes that come vengefully from the heart, blood and all. The line “what good is your heart if it doesn’t break” is just that.

I can relate to songs like these, because they have an intense, emotional meaning to them. When I heard Death on Two Legs for the first time, I was struck not by the spite of the lyrics or harshness of the guitars, but rather the purposefulness behind the song, both in its lyrics and instrumentation.

I need a purpose to wake up in the morning, whether it’s researching and writing an essay in academics, recording songs for an album, or writing an email to a long-lost friend. And since I got back from Europe, I put blogging aside and purposely started searching for a job. It’s been a self-absorbing task, and at times soul-crushing, but I undertook it willingly. I’m happy about and accepting of the decisions I’ve made.

Fortunately I’m not in the same boat as Freddie and haven’t known anyone along the lines of “real motherfucker” status. I’ve certainly been disappointed about how friendships ebb and wane, especially after how distant people become in the wake of college graduation. But that’s human nature, and I’m glad I don’t keep company with people who it would be appropriate to ask “do you feel like suicide?”

What was close to “death on two legs” was the year 2010, where I saw innumerable heartbreak upon heartbreak. And you know what? I survived and made it through, while 2010 only lived to see 365 days. Now, I’m a stronger man for it. And as 2011 starts, I’m confident in myself, my abilities, and have a loving family and a core of friends that are there.

Top Five Holiday Recipes

2011-01-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

In honor of the many ways to lose weight that are published this time of the year, I’m going to post my top-five (mostly gut-busting) recipes that were cooked over the holiday season.

5. Homemade Condiments - This is a wide-ranging category, and might not necessarily be fattening, but is definitely delightful. Of my favorites that I constructed, one was a Rosemary-Infused Olive Oil. To make it I simply poured olive oil into a sauce pan, freshly peeled rosemary, and red pepper flakes. Then I heated it for a few minutes and enjoyed bread with it. Another favorite and holiday mainstay was homemade salad dressing. To make this I combine two-parts olive oil and one-part balsamic vinegar, some whole grain mustard, honey, and salt and pepper to taste. Whisk it all together and voila!

4. Chunks - Yes, that’s the name. These were a delicacy Ian and Garrett concocted while at Tahoe for New Years. They are a hot dog, wrapped in a piece of bacon and then cooked in a skillet. Then they are covered in pancake batter and fried until the pancake forms. Serve with ketchup and/or syrup. You can make variations with cheese, onions, and even taco shells. And no, you may not ask about the name.

3. Mashed Baked Potatoes - These are a heart attack waiting to happen, and the reason why Weight Watchers increases their membership come January. Pretty much imagine a loaded baked potato, ripe with chives, sour cream, and bacon. Now imagine mashed potatoes, and combine the two images. That’s what this was, and it was absolutely amazing. We cooked the bacon and green onions in a separate pan, and poured some of the bacon fat into the mashed potatoes along with milk and sour cream. Delicious extraordinare.

2. Jalousies - Of all the meals that were cooked during the Tahoe trip, this was by far my favorite. Carly gets massive props for saving the best dish for the last. A Jalousie, for those that don’t know, is a puff-pastry that is filled with something delightful (not generic sounding at all, right?) Wrong! And it’s not generic tasting either! Carly made so many good, different fillings and I can’t even recall them all. There was a roasted peppers and pesto and goat cheese filling, another with chicken and cheddar, and so many more I can just taste them right now. If you are ever interested in making the best pastry ever, consider the Jalousie. It is filled with awesome.

1. Stuffed Pork Loin - This is my favorite meal from the holiday season, in part because of how fantastic it tasted, and also because of the process by which it was made. I have never butterflied anything before, so this was my first experience. And there were really cool pictures (and my grandmother) to help guide me! After we smoothed out the entire pork loin, it was time to fill the whole thing with a cranberry stuffing mixture. Then came the fun and messy part: rolling the whole thing back up. Once I had stuffed and rolled the pork loin, we tied it up with string and cooked it. Not only did it taste great when it came out of the oven, but it was an adventure. Now that’s what I call great cooking!

The Movie Everyone Is Talking About...

2011-01-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

When it comes to cinema, I’m a pretty big snob. The films my family watched fascinated me as a kid, and completely broached the genre-spectrum. My childhood highlights ran from the Yellow Submarine to the Court Jester to every Godzilla film. One summer during Middle School I found out about the American Film Institute’s Top 100 lists, and set out to watch as many as I could. Citizen Kane, Jaws, and Some Like It Hot all in one day. My dad set up his giant screen and projector in our living room and my friends and I watched it around our giant table.

Pretentious much?

This is the kind of background I come from as a filmgoer. And it’s with this background that I harshly judge films in theaters. Actually, I tend not to see films in theaters because I don’t find the ends justify the means. Tickets cost anywhere between $10-15 depending on if it’s in 3D or IMAX, which is more and more the case. And sadly I don’t find higher costs and glitzier effects leading to better storylines. In fact I see the inverse, in films like Avatar, Alice in Wonderland, and Tron just this past year.

My recent memory does hold some good films. The Dark Knight, The Departed, No Country for Old Men, Up, and The Wrestler all come to mind. The latter, especially, was one of those films I left feeling entirely overwhelmed. Jesse and I saw it together and were entirely speechless afterwards, hardly the feeling we expected to leave with. Could have used a few tissues as well. Such a reaction after a movie, where you literally need to check your grip on reality, is rare these days.

And that’s how I felt after I saw Black Swan.

We weren’t even sure about seeing Black Swan. Ian, Devin and I had heard it was frightening, that you had to kind of sit back and think about life afterward. We even contemplated seeing Unstoppable in the moments before we bought our tickets. I knew it was by Darren Aronofsky, the director of The Wrestler, but I didn’t think it could be of similar weight. Natalie Portman’s a ballerina, so what’s the big deal?

Everything.

Natalie Portman was far more than just a ballerina, playing a character you do and don’t want to support because our lives take us on much the same paths Nina Sayers walks. Oh, and she’s going to win the Best Actress Oscar. Mila Kunis, as Portman’s counterpoint throughout the film, does everything right both as a friend and as an actress. And puts on the most provocative (for lack of a better word) sex scene I’ve seen in a movie. Winona Ryder’s cameo is haunting, and the reason Ian literally screamed in the theater. And Barbara Hershey’s fingers are the scariest fingers I’ve ever seen in a film.

I’m not going to go and spoil Black Swan by providing a synopsis. But I’m going to say that the movie was absolutely unreal. And then some. Best Picture material. I don’t know anything about ballet dance, but whenever I go to the ballet next Black Swan will be in my mind. I’m also going to say that Aronofsky is an absurdly talented director. The Wrestler showed a struggle to do what we love. I'm not a professional wrestler, but I saw parallels in Randy "The Ram's" life. Black Swan showed a struggle to be perfect. Again, I'm never going to be a ballet dancer, but for nearly two hours I felt like I could relate.

Turns out the big deal was Black Swan, so go see it. It’s worth the $10-15.

Play Your Part

2011-01-04T06:00:00.001-08:00

This is the part where I start blogging again.

This is the part where I briefly summarize what happened in the four months since I last posted: I traveled, to New York City once, Washington DC twice, San Francisco and the Bay Area about four times. I applied, to jobs and hopefully will be employed soon. I recorded, putting together a seven-song album (EP?) with two of my closest friends. I cooked, assembling feasts on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I vacationed, spending the week leading up to New Years in Tahoe with friends both new and old.

This is the part where I talk about how it’s all going to change. But in order to show how it will change, I have to show how it has been. The past year has gone on books as the worst year in Calvin history. It started with the most massive snowstorm in Washington DC, and then continued on to the passing of my father followed quickly by my graduating from college. In the eye of the 2010 storm I saw Europe for nearly six weeks with my friend Luke, but the storm continued when I came back and unemployment fully set-on.

This is the part where I really talk about how everything is going to change. Unfortunately the format of my blog will not -- sorry to those of my readers who absolutely despise my long-winded, referential, and dry humor that bobs and weaves from subject to inane subject. I’m looking at you, guy from Texas who was up in arms about me saying we shouldn’t watch Glenn Beck. But what will change is my unemployment status. And my running regiment, because I’m determined to run a marathon. And my piano playing, because I’ve been teaching myself to play piano for four months now and going to keep going. And my novel writing, because I have a story I want to tell you about.

This is the part where I state how I’m going to be happier in 2011. It’s all in the mind.

This is the part where I finish by explaining about the events that ended 2010. No, not the New Years countdown. For me, 2010 was 367 days long: it ended yesterday. Our trip to Tahoe finished on January 1, and Ken and I spent the night at our friend Nick’s house in Lodi just outside of Sacramento. On January 2, we began our trek back home from Sacramento, and started with a massive two hour detour west to San Francisco to drop off two friends from the trip. After a brief lunch with my good friend Stosh, we began heading south.

This is the part where Mother nature got pissed. She was the only force standing in our way from entering 2011, and she very nearly stopped us. The 5 closed at the Grapevine, forcing Ken and I to choose between immovable traffic east on the 58 and 14, or a lengthy detour around west on the 166 and 101. We opted to continue swimming along rather than sink into traffic. Five hours later, we’d wound a single-lane highway through pitch blackness, stopped at Denny’s for coffee, and swerved along the coast through pouring rain, only to finally see the lights of Los Angeles. Our journey into 2011 was emblematic of the many battles I fought during the War of 2010.

This is the part where I play my part. Ready or not 2011, here I come.

Greeting The Galitizines (In Biarritz)

2010-08-18T01:05:00.001-07:00

Luke and I parted ways after Amsterdam for the last segment of our trip. At the trip's onset we had talked about going to Ibiza -- the international party island off the coast of Spain. Luke still went there, and met up with some of our friends who we met along the way of our trip. I headed in a similar direction, to Biarritz in the south of France. I was going to meet my Great Aunt Olga.

Or at least I was told she was my Great Aunt (by my actual Aunt, ironically). My family has a lot of history, as most families do. Olga resides on my father's side of the family, through my Grandmother Barbara's "Galitizine" blood. To my knowledge, the Galitizines were Russian royalty who fled because of the Bolshevik Revolution, and many of them headed to France. That's where my Grandmother left from after she met my Grandfather Sydney in WWII. And that's where Olga, and many of my other Galitizine relatives, currently reside. Calvin's abrupt (and probably incorrect) history lesson of his father's side of the family.

So with all these random ties throughout the Galitizines, I had assumed Olga was my Grandmother's sister (hence: Great Aunt Olga). Turns out she wasn't, and I never got a definite answer as to how exactly we are related. But that's neither here nor there.

Lots of distant relatives were, however, here and there. My train stopped on the way down in Paris for a few hours, and I caught a suburban train out to St. Pierre Les Nemours to meet Bertrand, "the head of the family" as Olga described him. I also met his wife Kristine, and her son Nigel and his fiancee Betsy. We sat down for a rushed dinner of steak and potatoes, and talked even more hurriedly about how we were all related and about my life's goals. And they showed me there is a giant book on the Galitizines which will hopefully explain to me at some point who all these people were I met this weekend.

From St. Pierre Les Nemours I caught a night train down to Biarritz, and arrived around 7 a.m. Olga picked me up at the train station, and we rode to her flat -- not more than a 5 minute walk from the waterfront. Oh, I forgot to mention that Biarritz is a beautiful beach town at the south of France. Actually, it quite reminded me of Manhattan Beach, although the surf wasn't nearly as good. I laid down on Olga's couch to take a nap after my night train, since I didn't sleep that much.

I was awoken by a little dog that had jumped on my lap and was licking my face. I don't remember his name, but I do remember that there were two other women in the room and a girl about my age, as well as Olga. Turns out these were more of my relatives -- Bertrand's daughter (and Olga's niece) Katherine, her daughter Anna, and another niece of Olga's named Sophie. What that makes any of them in relation to me hurts my head to think about. So we all kind of glossed over the subject as we had a breakfast together. And then they all had to leave to head back to Paris. Then Olga showed me around Biarritz, giving me the grand tour of the beaches, their casinos, and their beautiful market. I know if I head back to France that I'll be staying in Biarritz.

After a good nights rest, Olga and I took a drive the next day to St. Jean du Luz for an excellent lunch of Oysters, Duck with baked beans, and crem brulle. She showed me around this city, famous for the marriage of Louis XIV and...oh man, if only I had taken more European History and could remember. One failed history lesson and amazing meal later and we were back to Biarritz, where I met some more relatives. Iren and Erich and their daughter were arriving in town to visit on holiday for a week, so we all sat and talked. Although I spoke very elementary French, Erich spoke amazing English and so we talked for hours about employment, American politics, the healthcare reform, and everything else. One of the many conversations on my trip that lasted late into the night.

The next day I woke up and I went down to the beach with Erich and his family. We all went bodyboardig in the surf, which was really fun. Then I laid out for a bit just to enjoy the views of Biarritz. Honestly there were some truly breathtaking views during this entire trip, but Biarritz was way up there. I didn't even take any photos of me in Biarritz because I just loved the views so much. Definitely inspirational. And after I finished my time at the beach, it was time for me to be on my way. I had a seven-hour train ride from Biarritz all the way back to Madrid, so I could fly back home the next day. Olga drove me to the train station and we said goodbye, and that was the end of my time there.

Needless to say, Biarritz was quite a trip. For an epic trip to top all epic trips, Biarritz was a fantastic way to conclude it. I had the opportunity to meet people of my family I didn't even know existed before. And while I was in Biarritz it was like being thrown into the deep end. I met people I didn't even know existed before, and spent two nights and three days with someone who turned out to not be my Great Aunt. That made it even more exciting! Olga, and the rest of the Galitizine family (and people related tangentially to it), thank you for accommodating me in Biarritz. I had a blast, and can now say I've got family in France.

Hot D-Amsterdam

2010-08-16T01:19:00.000-07:00

Before we get underway here, I'd like to wish my mother a happy birthday. Nancy Watson is an amazing woman, the likes of which is seldom seen in the world. It's been a pleasure to get to know you these past 22-years. Have a great day mom.

The difference between a first class ticket that left two hours later than a second class ticket to Amsterdam was 16 euros. I made the wise decision and left at 8 a.m. in first class. The benefits of my decision: unlimited breakfast, and extra legroom in front of my seat. I need to start making enough money to afford first class in everything I do. Or just work for a business that'll shell out.

I got to Amsterdam around noon-time, and met Lucas at the train station. He had been in Amsterdam a few days prior, but we met up for our time there. We were lucky enough to have excellent connections -- my cousin Jessie put us in touch with her good friend Lien, who had lived in Amsterdam for three years now. The image of kindness, Lien -- great guy, that Lien -- was a wonderful new friend to meet. She put us up in her apartment on Tweed Helmer Straat (Dutch was by far the most entertaining language we encountered on the trip), and Amsterdam was underway.

Just like every other city, I wish I could've stayed for more time in Amsterdam. Fortunately, we chose an amazing weekend to be there. We arrived for the Gay Pride Weekend. All the festivities were on Saturday, however. So on Friday Lucas and I ventured to the Van Gogh museum, finally getting to see the Van Gogh Poppies in person, as well as his lesser-known Potato Eaters. It was a wonderful collection, but sadly Starry Night isn't on display there. After seeing the Van Gogh museum, we went for the super touristy bike ride through Amsterdam, over canals and through winding roads. It was a truly beautiful site. And we of course ventured to the super touristy coffee shop.

We had an early Friday night. Fortunate for us because the Gay Pride Festival would be exhausting. Our Saturday was a bit of dismal weather, but the mood was hardly that. Lucas, Lien, and I ventured to an amazing market (think Whole Foods but in Amsterdam, and with amazingly silly writing and lots of the letter "J" in random places) where we bought sandwich stuffs. Not just any sandwiches, but gourmet ones with great wheat bread, prosciutto, salami, mozzarella, pesto, sundried tomatoes, and oil and vinegar. Lunch had us fully satisfied, and ready to go for the day. Before heading to the Festival, we walked through Vandel Park -- a nice park.

Gay Pride Festivals are insane, and a Gay Pride Festival in Amsterdam was nothing short of that. Lien's friend John had a great view of the Canals from his apartment, which was on the second floor. He was kind enough to host a bunch of people (who ended up staying way too long because of the rain), and we all had a wonderful time. Lucas and I got to play DJ for some of the party, picking up some good dance tunes. There was the unfortunate occasional 90s song, but otherwise it was a good mix. And it's obvious that all of Lien and John's friends were cool. Really cool. We partied for a good six or seven hours, watching floats, meeting really cool ex-pat, Belgian, French, and Dutch people alike, and dancing together. It was an awesome party, one of my favorites from the trip.

Two of the girls from the party, Maggie and Amanda, were kind enough to take us on a tour of the Red Light District afterwards. For a tourist in Amsterdam for two days only, the Red Light District was a must. And I have to say it was one of the weirdest experiences of my life. Say what you will about "the oldest profession," walking around and seeing prostitutes just standing behind glass doors was a trip. I'm glad I got to see something like that. My profound respect for women grew even more after that tour. We all sat down for a drink afterward to just discuss what we saw, and evaluate our lives and directions. What a good experience to have.

What an awesome experience to have: Amsterdam. I wish that I could've stayed longer. To me, Amsterdam was very reminiscent of San Francisco. Only flatter. The tram system was just like the Muni, everyone was biking places, people were super friendly, and it felt very progressive. I'm sure the Gay Pride weekend helped tip the scales, but even without it I felt a bit at home. Maybe Amsterdam is in my cards someday, who knows. However, I do know that Lien was one of the greatest hosts I've ever met. I owe her so much beyond that simple endorsement, so I'm hoping she comes to Los Angeles soon and I can repay her. For now, if you are reading this Lien, thank you.

Sadly we had to leave Amsterdam. There were really only four days left on our trip, and Luke and I were splitting up for two very epic (and epically different) events. Luke was going to Ibiza, the renowned party island off the coast of Spain for a three day extravaganza. And I was headed to Biarritz, a city in the southwest of France, by way of Paris. My purpose: to meet my long lost relatives. People that were related to my father.

Paris...Cool! (Part II)

2010-08-15T00:56:00.000-07:00

When I left off, I had just met up with my long-lost High School friend Aurelie. She had been living in Paris for quite some time, and was kind enough to let me stay with her.

On Tuesday, Aurelie laid out a touristy route for me that would help me find my way through some of Paris's most majestic sites. I started off in the 6th and wandered along rue du bac (near Musee D'Orsay, which happens later!). Then I traveled west until I reached Hotel des Invalides, which is where Napoleon is buried. I stood in front of it for a while before deciding that I finally wanted to go inside and take a closer look -- because it was simply so amazing from the exterior. From there I headed up to the Quay along the Seine, and walked towards Paris's most emblematic landmark: The Eiffel Tower.

All I can say is it looks like a giant "A." I wrote it down in my notebook.

I checked out the Eiffel Tower from across the river, standing atop the Trocadero. That was definitely a worthwhile view, where I snapped a ton of pictures. But I didn't dawdle, and walked up the avenue whose name alludes me to get to the Arc du Triomphe. Rather than wait in line at the Eiffel Tower to see Paris, I went to the top of the Arc and got a magnificent view of the city. One of the most fascinating aspects of Paris is that there are no tall buildings within it, only on the outside of the city (ie. La Defense). When you stand atop the Arc du Triomphe, there is an absolutely unobstructed view of the city center, and then the outskirts of buildings. Once I'd breathed in the gorgeous view, I moved on to Le Victor Hugo for a croque monsieur with Aurelie.

We left lunch and traveled a bazillion kilometers (which was only about 2 miles) throughout Paris to reach her friend's apartment. We passed through the Champs Elysees, as well as tons of buildings that belong to Sarkosy and the National Government. Finally we reached our destination, and I met Aurelie's friends Nichole and Jackie. It was fun to talk to a couple of ex-pat Americans living in Paris, who intermittently spoke in French for emphasis. Finally Aurelie left for work at her bar, and I ate a delicious dinner of tandoori chicken and vegetables before joining her for a drink. Then I ventured to yet another iconic Paris site: Notre Dame. Rather than look like a big "A," Notre Dame looked a big "A" for "Awesome." It is just plain massive, and utterly astounding to see in person. I was happy to have the chance to see it late at night, because it was gorgeous in the evening.

The next day was a big day. I was going to babysit my niece and nephew -- in town with my brother and his wife for their 8th and 6th birthdays, respectively -- and needed to find them gifts. Aurelie and I eventually found a cute French store with tons of cool gifts. Gus and Anna ended up receiving glow in the dark rubber duckies, a calculator designed like a candy bar (the choculator), and two postcards which could be cut into figures of the Eiffel Tower and a T-Rex. When I eventually babysat my niece and nephew for the evening, we watched the carnival in the jardins du tuleries outside their hotel window. Rather than go on rides at the carnival, we decided to have our own carnival inside the hotel room. Gus got the tickets ready with toilet paper from the bathroom, while Anna prepared the pillow fight and the "dancenator." Finally everything was ready, and we made a huge mess. My brother was very happy when he got back.

Finally my last day in Paris was spent looking at the Musee D'Orsay. This museum was a quarter the size of the Louvre, but even more beautiful. It was constructed inside a railway station, and there's an impressive clockface looking over everything that you could spend your time staring at. But I chose to look at the astounding collection of impressionist and post-impressionist artwork. Seriously, there was everything from Renoir to Gauguin to Matisse to Pisarro to Cezanne to Manet, and whatever else I forgot. I don't even know what was most awesome to see? Renoir's Bal du moulin de la galette or Manet's Olympia, two paintings I've studied before and finally saw in person. Man this whole cultured thing is sounding pretty pretentious.

My time in Paris concluded with one last night, and I spent it meeting my distant cousin Brandy (distant cousins would consume my last week of the trip) in the Marais. We got ourselves these amazingly touristy and amazing delicious Falafels from L'as Falafels, then ventured down to the Paris Plage. It's this man-made beach extravaganza along the Seine, fit with sand, palm trees, and some weird games that resemble botche ball. For someone that hails from the beach, I got a kick out of it. Finally I met Aurelie for another drink, then some wine and cheese back at the apartment. The next morning I was off to Amsterdam.

Paris was amazing. Cool! With an amazing metropolitan layout that I loved -- it reminded me distinctly of D.C., another city built by Frenchmen -- and an even better (if not the best) subway system, it was one of the best cities I've ever been to. I feel like one would get lost with so much excitement, exploration, and enjoyment there on a daily basis. Thanks to Maria and Julia for making the first night fantastic, and thanks to Kevin, Claire, Anna and Gus for including me in the fun on another. But most of all thanks to Aurelie for not missing a beat in the 5-years since high school, and for making Paris absolutely unbelievable.

Paris...Cool! (Part I)

2010-08-13T22:16:00.000-07:00

How Anti-climactic -- I'm back in the United States. But I've still got about a week and a half's worth of trip details to cover before I'm up to date. So here is the first of two posts on Paris!

I left London feeling like I needed to spend more time there. Little did I know what I was getting myself into by going to Paris. Isn't the suspense just killing you? It's like a Stieg Larsson book!

To get to Paris, I opted to take the trendy Eurostar train. They're one of the commercial carriers that takes the chunnel, an historic waterway connecting the United Kingdom to the European Continent. After two and a half hours of historical oogling, I was in Paris. And I was fortunately greeted by two lovely sisters I met while in Munich, Julia and Maria. Sisters, like the White Christmas song (come on, you love that film). Paris is divided up arrondisements, which are really neighborhoods. We went to our hostel to put my stuff down, which was located in the "middle of nowhere" arrondisement. But have no fear! We were off to explore anyhow.

Our evening of exploration was picturesque and cinematic. Actually, it was quite cinematic. We went to Montmarte by first getting off the metro stop and seeing the eponymous "Moulin Rouge" staring right back at us. I could almost hear Your Song in the background. After negotiating a Parisian drifter away from us, we headed up the hills to check out the greater Montmarte area, and to eventually find the Sacre Couer. Some Parisians I talked to don't really care for the Sacre Couer; they felt it was too obnoxious and disdainful, almost out of place. Sure it kind of looks like a building out of Star Wars. But when you get up to it at night, and look down at Paris, all objections fall by the wayside.

Paris, the "City of Lights" as it's referred, is breathtaking at night. And it's even more breathtaking from the steps in front of the Sacre Couer. The three of us sat there with a gaggle of other tourists and Parisians alike, just enjoying the crisp evening and the view. I don't think I could've had a better first evening in Paris. And we topped it off by eating some crepes and having coffee. Tres Bien!

The next morning started off by checking out of the hostel and checking out the Paris Opera. We moved on from there to grab a quick breakfast (although Maria felt it wise to eat a chicken club sandwich with eggs and bacon on it as well). And finally it was time for the day's big festivities: the Louvre.

Forays at Reina Sofia, Academia, the Ufizi Gallery, the Kafka Museum, the Tate, and the National Gallery were nothing. The Louvre was gigantic. It was enormous. And that was before we even stepped inside of it. It was more intimidating than the first time I saw the Empire State Building from the bottom up. And I still had tons of art to see in it.

My god did I have a ton of art to see in it. There was the Venus di Milo, the Nike of Samothrace, Delacroix's Liberty Leading the People, David's The Coronation of Napoleon, and of course Da Vinci's Mona Lisa. To be fair, I wasn't that impressed by the Mona Lisa. I already knew that it wasn't that big, but I just have never been that taken in by the portrait itself. What I was taken in by was David's The Oath of the Horatii. My favorite Neo-classical painting, and probably my favorite second painting (behind Liechtenstein's Whaam! which I saw a few days prior in the Tate), it was mightily impressive to see in person. The way in which David captures the allegiance to state and patriotic duty through a family scene (albeit with swords raised) is remarkable. And given the context -- it was commissioned before the French Revolution -- I found it even more impressive. Especially since it sat across from The Coronation of Napoleon.

Oh, and I also saw Hammurabi's Law Code. That was awesome. It looked about as decipherable as the United States's law code. And it's written with hyrogliphs.

So there is no way we were finishing everything in the Louvre. No way. So after we saw all the major highlights on the building, and after I mapped out our path (we only traversed about one-third of the behemoth), we journeyed across the pathway to the Jardins du Tuliaries. Passing along by all the magnificent gardens, you could see the Champs Elysees and the Arc Du Triomphe at its end. But I wasn't able to walk all the way there. I had to head back to the hostel, pick up my bags, and go to meet an old friend from high school who I would stay with the rest of the week: Aurelie Arsouze.

It had been five years since I'd seen Aurelie, and she had spent almost all of those in Paris (a bit in Miami, but that's neither here nor there). When I showed up at her flat, it was as if I'd seen her yesterday. We went out for a run in the Jardins du Luxembourg, and caught up on all the things we've been missing these past few years. Her place was in the 6eme -- a great part of town, as compared with the unknown location of our hostel -- and after we went for a run we went to have dinner. For dinner we traveled to her cousin's apartment in the eastern part of town, and we cooked. It was actually the first time on the trip I'd had a home cooked meal, and it was possibly the best meal of the trip. Aurelie made a lemon chicken pasta with cream and butter sauce, and I made a tossed salad of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples and onions with a french dressing. It was amazing. Oh, and lots of wine and champagne.

So through the first two nights in Paris, I'd seen Montmarte, the Sacre Couer, the Louvre, two different jardins, eaten an amazing meal, and reunited with a friend from high school. Hard to imagine what the next few days would be like.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- London Calling (Part III)

2010-08-03T16:32:00.000-07:00

I was in London until Sunday, which was only two days ago. Yet somehow it feels like ages. And it actually was ages ago that Lucas and I landed in Madrid to start this whole Europe Trip Oh'Ten. My how time flies.

The entirety of my Friday in London was devoted outside of London -- in Oxford. It's a little college town, you might have heard of it. My friend Kate was actually born there, her brother and father both attended the University there, and her family still owns a flat out there. I was fortunate to get a chance not only to see the town for the first time, but to have a tour of the place from someone who is well-acquainted with Oxford.

Oxford is non-comparable. To any other college town. Or to really anything I've been to before. I kept thinking it felt a bit like Harvard, but Harvard exists close to Boston, and feels like a part of a major urban center. Oxford is an hour to an hour and a half train ride outside of London, and is its own town. A secluded oasis of learning and intellectualism in the greater United Kingdom, if you will. Architecturally, it's unparalleled to any academic institution I've come across. And as an academic institution, it's...well...pretty self explanatory. We ate fish and chips at a pub where C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkein often ate (as well as many other authors with only first initials). And we traversed the Oxford Parks, which so many brilliant minds have done throughout history. We even stopped in for some of Ben's Cookies -- which you need to eat if you go to Oxford.

If I had to pick a favorite part from Oxford, it wouldn't be possible. Seeing Christ Church was very impressive, as was stepping in to St. John's college. Just walking the main drag out to the more residential section was exciting, and don't even get me started on the punting. No, we didn't actually get to go punting. Next time I'm in Oxford that will change. We did, however, get to drink Pimm's. A distinctly British drink in a distinctly British learning institution. In the end, I feel like my review of my visit to Oxford hasn't quite done it justice. That's probably because I'm still a bit speechless after the whole thing. Just check it out for yourself to see what I mean (and can't quite say).

My last days in London focused on doing a lot with a little time -- a recurring trend during this trip. I had to go see Abbey Road. What's a visit to London for a music snob like me if I don't go to Abbey Road? So I went to Abbey Road, and regretted not having three other people with me to walk across the street. So instead I popped down on a bench and listened to a song off of Abbey Road (Octopus's Garden) and my three favorite Beatles songs (And Your Bird Can Sing, I'm Looking Through You, and Happiness Is A Warm Gun).

Along with Abbey Road, I needed to do more music stuff. I needed to go to Camden Town. Not just because of the music, but largely because of the music. One of the hip areas, Camden Town was a blast to explore. Lucas and I walked around looking at different record stores, seeing rare vinyl record releases that aren't available back in the States, and enjoyed the whole time. It was a really cool shopping section, and I eventually settled on purchasing a live recording of The Specials. And the new Gaslight Anthem, since I hadn't bought it yet. Oh, and we got absolutely phenomenal Vietnamese food at this restaurant. If you go to Camden Town, please go to Viet Anh. You will be in heaven, or at least a heavenly food coma.

And then it was off to Paris, where I'm still at as I write this. But looking back on it, London was such a unique and exciting experience. It made me feel so excited just to walk down streets and look up at buildings, despite that I've been doing similar things in the past weeks. What was different was exploring London with British friends that knew the area as home (and the fact that I spoke the language, err some of it anyway). From the history to the arts, from the music to the amazingly good food, all of the British cultural experience was amazing.

Thanks to Kate, James, Judith, Andy, Sarah, Pete, and Cat for making my first time in London just that: amazing. And thanks for making me want to come back again.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- London Calling (Part II)

2010-08-02T16:31:00.000-07:00

I am writing part two/deux of my London escapades from Paris. I wish I could keep up with the times, because Paris is unbelievable and clouding my memories of London.

After a lengthy overview of London, in which I pretty much walked everywhere I would want to walk (and walked more than I had walked during my entire time in Europe thus far, or so it seemed), it was time to situate myself and thoroughly explore London. It started with a traditional English breakfast at the Breakfast Club -- a Sausage Butty. That was sausage and eggs on bread. And it was unbelievably delicious.

From the Breakfast Club, I moved along to explore Hyde Park. Apparently London's summer has been dryer than most, because the grass at all of the parks was visibly more yellow and barren than it usually is. That being said, Hyde Park was just flat out gorgeous. I walked into the park and my jaw dropped. I had to bend down to pick it up because my jaw dropped that far. The park just seemed to stretch forever, even though you could see buildings and their limits imposed upon the park. But somehow it just kept going. I followed the park paths down a hill until I reached the giant lake, known as the "Serpentine," and sat there for nearly an hour just watching the scenes and ducks wandering by. I wish Los Angeles had parks like that.

With Hyde Park under my belt, it was onwards and upwards to the Tate Modern. Every museum in London is free, which is awesome. I could go on about how I saw a ton of cool pieces of art in the Tate, and how it was all free. But it doesn't matter, because I saw my favorite painting. When I got up to the 5th floor of the Tate, Whaam! by Roy Liechtenstein was staring me right in the face. And I just stared right back at it, for nearly thirty minutes. Examining the precision of the dots, and the form of the comic book script. It was just a dream to see. Oh, and the rest of the Tate was pretty cool.

From there I went to London Paddington station to catch a train. I was headed to Bristol, to meet up with my good friend Cat. She and I first met at the Smithsonian two summers ago and hung out nearly everyday that summer. This past summer we managed to see each other for a day when she was back in DC. And now the 2010 summer we managed to see each other again when I was in the UK. Clearly we are establishing a trend, and hopefully we can pick a non-descript, neutral location for our next rendezvous. Regardless of the circumstances, it was a treasure to get to explore Bristol briefly with Cat, and to have a delicious dinner of burgers and some drinks. I can't wait for the next time Cat, and thanks for the fun times thus far!

Rather than head straight back from Bristol, I decided to take my time and stop by in Bath. This city has a lot of history, and I was there for two hours so I had plenty of time to just meander around and completely ignore the history. Granted I did enjoy looking at the gorgeous architecture -- the Royal Crescent is one of the prettiest things I've seen yet on my trip. But I wish I could have spent a few more hours in Bath to truly immerse myself in its history, and to learn a bit more about how the Romans got themselves involved. Oh well, I guess that's why it's a Europe Trip rampaging through dozens of European cities with little time to immerse myself. I had to get back to London to enjoy the rest of my time there.

In my next post, I'll conclude my three-part discussion of my events in the UK. I'll talk about the last cultural excursions I went on in London, and the intellectual immersion I engaged in for a day in Oxford. Until then!

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- London Calling (Part I)

2010-07-31T14:35:00.000-07:00

How easy it was to look ahead to London. And how amazing London turned out to be!

When I got to London late Monday night, my friends Kate and James were kind enough to meet me at the tube station and pick me up. Not only that, they were kind enough to provide me a place to stay, tour me around London and Oxford (discussed in a later post), and make my introduction to one of the coolest cities I've ever been to just plain outstanding. They are British -- having people that know the lay of the land only adds to your experience there.

As I flew over London on that late Monday evening, and saw the twinkling lights of the street lamps hiding behind the trees along the way, I was intrigued. And excited. And ready to explore this gigantic city. On Tuesday, I got that chance. The three of us started our morning by eating brunch in the Soho/West End of London. I had sausage, toast, spinach, and baked beans. However these aren't the baked beans like back in California that you would have with BBQ and ribs or what not. If you're planning on coming to London though, I highly encourage you to dive headfirst into the food. Some people can't stand it, but I'm not one of them. I loved it.

After our brunch, we began to wander. We ventured to Oxford Street for coffee with one of their close friends, and then continued along to Trafalgar Square. If it weren't for the beautiful architecture and landmark buildings, all the places in London would feel the same -- heavily touristed. But that's not much different than anywhere else I've been so far, and kind of made London even more enjoyable since I was seeing it with two British friends. We moved through the Covent Garden (and grabbed a few of Ben's Cookies) before seeing Saint Paul's Cathedral. All I can say is that I was utterly impressed. St. Paul's felt just as looming when we were inside as it did from across the Thames.

Which is where we went next. We crossed the Thames along the Millenium Bridge, which alone inspired me to become a structural engineer (look it up!). After that we passed by Shakespeare's Globe Theatre -- I would see a play while I was in London, unfortunately not at the Globe -- and the Borough Market for a sample of Green Curry. You can see there was a very large trend on my first full day in London: Walking. We walked past the huge ferris wheel, and along the bridge past the houses of Parliament and Big Ben, inspiring me to become an architect this time. Our afternoon tour concluded by getting some falafel and chicken tikka masala and eating it at the Seven Points intersection.

Since our dogs were certifiably barking, we took a break in the afternoon. Then I opted to go for an evening stroll through Regent's Park (one of the two huge parks in London). One of the biggest knocks against Los Angeles is that there isn't a huge park one can just walk through. Pick any other big city and there is one: New York, Boston, Washington DC, Berlin, even San Francisco. So I indulged myself by exploring the Rose Gardens at Regent's Park, and then by peering into the Open Air theatre for a few minutes of The Comedy of Errors. My evening concluded with a pint at the Queen's Head and Artichoke pub right across the street.

And that was only Tuesday! Tune in later for my Wednesday explorations of Hyde Park, the Tate, and my quick trip to Bristol/Bath

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Muhnich (err...Mehnich?)

2010-07-28T02:33:00.001-07:00

Sorry it's a little late, but here's my post on Munich. In London and the United Kingdom all week and probably won't be posting again until after I leave!

Leaving Berlin and Prague, two of the high points on the trip for me, and heading for Munich could mean one of two things. Munich would either continue the upward trend of amazing cities that were just overly phenomenal. Or Munich would be a letdown. Turns out it was more of the latter, as you'll find out throughout my discussion.

We arrived at Munich on a super-rainy night, and very late. We had to catch an S-Bahn train to our hostel, which was way the hell out in the middle of nowhere. So the first night in Munich was pretty much a throwaway. We got up early the next morning and headed into town to try and find another hostel that would be centrally located. Thankfully we found one, although Lucas and I were unfortunately in separate rooms. This would prove to be a bummer as my room was filled with loud, obnoxious American tourists who came back home at 5:30 a.m. drunk and bitching about their failed escapades of the evening. Now I know why America is so loved throughout the world.

Made the reason I didn't enjoy Munich that much was that I didn't really find time to do much. Our first real day was spent dealing with rain, walking through one of the shopping districts and briefly eyeing things in windows, and then waiting for hostel rooms populated by silly American tourists to open up. On the second day, I did something pretty important though. I went to the Dachau Concentration Camp.

Dachau was one of the first concentration camps, and was oriented as a labor camp rather than a death camp. That didn't make it any less easier to walk through the memorial. I spent hours walking through the museum which had informative displays on how Hitler could rise to power in the first place, lots of discussions on Nazi propaganda, and criticisms of how the Holocaust atrocities were allowed to be carried out. Then I looked at the barrackses that housed the prisoners in the camp, one of the more horrific sights to see. But by far the most terrifying thing to see at the camp was the crematorium, which was used beyond max-capacity at the war's end. Words can't begin to describe how it felt to move through there, and I can't begin to imagine what it was like for the actual prisoners.

So a lot of obnoxious tourists and a visit to a Concentration Camp are a good combination for having an upbeat time. I'm not bummed at all that I went to Munich. On the contrary, I'm really glad. I saw Dachau, which was very important for me to do on a personal level. And I met a lot of cool people in our hostel (Pitty, Jon, Fish, Michelle, Amanda, and of course Julia and Maria).

But my time in Munich was also spent looking ahead to getting to London. That city was where we initially had planned to star tour trip (on my dad's original travel plans), a place I had never been to but heard only absolutely phenomenal things, and obviously the first totally English speaking place. So maybe I will go back to Munich at some point again in my life and have a better time, provided it's not immediately followed by a trip to London. At least I did get a pretty sweet stamp in my passport to remember it by.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Czech's In The Mail

2010-07-23T08:48:00.001-07:00

Like I said earlier: I loved Berlin. Ich Bin Ein Berliner. That whole shpiel. But this trip is a Europe Trip, not a Berlin trip. So as much as I wanted to stay, I felt like I needed to keep it moving and head to a new place. The next locale was a place I held dear to my heart, because it's partly where my family is from: Prague (Praha), Czech Republic.

Traveling to Prague was an entire clusterfuck. Lucas and I felt it would be smart to take an overnight train so we could maximize our last day in Berlin and save on a hostel at the same time. But we did not think about looking at overnight trains that went directly to Prague. Instead we decided to book an overnight train that went everywhere but Prague before finally traveling to the capital of the Czech Republic. Our night train had roughly 7,182,957,634 different connections, including a four hour layover in Falkenberg, Germany from midnight until 4 a.m. While I was happy to finally get to use my Sleeping Bag outdoors, it came under the most terrifyingly scary circumstances possible. The town was entirely desolate. There were two other Germans who also had a ridiculous train layover with us, and even they hadn't heard of the town before. Needless to say we changed our overnight train to Munich so we're traveling direct now.

However once we finally arrived at Prague, I was overwhelmed. I have felt like a tourist, or like someone that clearly stands out like a sore thumb, in every city we've traveled to. Don't look Spanish. Hardly Italian. Clearly not German. But in Prague, I keep seeing people that look like relatives. My mom's doppleganger was standing at the train platform (don't ask me which one). Everyone looks eerily familiar, and I kind of fit in -- in terms of my appearance. Granted I still don't speak the language, but hey nobody's perfect.

We only spent a night and two days in Prague, but again I was totally loving every minute of it. We got in and immediately had a traditional Czech dish: potato dumplings. Mine came with beef in a creamy dill sauce. For dinner I had beef goulash with potato pancakes, and some lightly oiled vegetables with feta cheese. And for lunch before we left I had beef stroganoff over rice with some lightly pickled cabbage (not quite sauerkraut).

Needless to say they were all delicious, but what's more is they again reminded me of meals I had at home. My Grandmother is largely Czech, and cooks all of these same dishes whenever we're together. The familiarity with what I was eating made it taste that much better. Sadly I looked for the traditional kolazky pastries she makes (small pieces of dough filled with cherry, plum, apricot, or poppyseed, and topped with sugar) but couldn't find any. That will be my goal next time.

Exploring Prague gave me chills because it was so gorgeous yet quaint. The city is tiny and walkable, although there is a good metro system. We walked and saw the Old Town Square, the Charles River Bridge, and of course the Castle on the hill. The layout of the city reminded me of Florence with its cobblestones, but the architecture and artstyle was hardly Renaissance -- more Rococo with its flourishes and ornate designs. If you ever go, just walk the street up to the Opera House at night to see what I mean.

We capped off the time in Prague with a look at the Franz Kafka Museum, recommended by my friend Emily. I probably would have understood it more if I was more familiar with Kafka's work, but there was an aspect I found truly intriguing: the personal history of it. Letters, diaries, manuscripts, and photos all covered exhibits, tracing a history of Kafka's writings, personal development as an author, and life as a whole. Chronicling my family's history is something I have been thinking of doing when I get back, and this might have been the tipping point. Maybe then I'll be able to say whether my Grandmother is entirely Czech or just "largely" Czech.

Overall Prague was mesmerizing. I want to go back, but it will have to come in the future. Right now we are riding on a train to Munich where we'll stay for the next three days before flying to London. Thanks to Marco for being a really interesting, fun, and intellectual guy to accompany Lucas and I for dinner and the evening -- safe travels back to Brasilia! And thanks to my Grandma Baba for being "largely" Czech. You raised me so two days felt like they were home in Prague.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Goodbye Germany (For a Day)

2010-07-22T02:15:00.000-07:00

So when we last left, I was finishing up my time in Berlin. And what a great time it was. I got to see a ton of historical sites documenting the copious amounts of history that took place in Berlin during the 20th century alone.

One of my favorite pieces was the East Side Gallery. If you are in Berlin, it is free and well worth your time. Artists preserved a portion of the Berlin Wall and drew tons of graffiti and street art pieces along the wall's face, and you acn stroll by and look at all of these designs. Famous among them is the wet kiss of Leonind Breshnev and Eric Hoenecker (spelling is overrated these days). There is a break in the wall at a certain point too, which allows you to walk through and see the "Dead Zone" in between the west and east side walls. If you made it over the East Wall somehow, you would still be "dead" because you'd be stuck in between the two.

After checking out the East Side Gallery, we strolled through the historical Tiergarten. This is a giant park in the middle of Berlin (technically in West Berlin) that is absolutely magnificent. People were out lounging, nude tanning, looking at animals at the zoo, and enjoying beers. So we decided to hit up the biergarten in the tiergarten and relax for a while during the day. I can't drink like a German, but I felt distinctly German for a few hours then.

Lastly, and possibly most exciting of all, we took a tour of the Bundestag in the Reichstag Building. The seat of the German parliament, the Bundestag is a super old building that has been burnt down again and again (Hitler used its burning as a means to sieze total authoritarian power in the 30s) and then rebuilt in an even more majestic manner. There is a glass dome at the top that offers a gorgeous view of the entire Berlin skyline, and helps you realize just how amazing and quick reunification has been with just 20 years gone by.

I loved Berlin, and that view atop the Bundestag helped seal it for me. I don't think it really dawned on me just how much that city has been through, or how effectively it's recovered in such a short period of time. We wrapped up our time in Berlin with some beers in Hackersher Markt (again, spelling is overrated) along the River in some lounge chairs and the Shure sisters. Overall it was a great experience in Berlin, and of the places I've been to so far, I can definitely see myself heading back there again. Maybe it's because it reminded me a bit of DC -- what with the Capital, the diverse communities and cultures between the different parts of the city, and the great metro system. Who knows, but I can't wait to go back.

Thanks to Torey and Nikki for the great recommendation email, and for getting in just in time for a beer. And thanks to Kelsey for not leaving the metro stop after we messed up and went to the wrong one, and then for going out on a silly bar crawl and playing Ping Pong on a Monday evening. Now it's off to Prague. Who knows what we'll see here.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Ich Ben Ein Berliner

2010-07-20T10:41:00.001-07:00

Before I start this post, I'd like to wish a happy birthday to my dad. He would have been 64 today. Miss you more than you can imagine, and hope you're enjoying the trip posts.

With nearly two weeks spent down along the Mediterranean coastline in Spain and Italy, it was high time to head north. This couldn't have come sooner because the weather was unbearably humid, and we were ready for an entire change of pace. Before catching a flight up to Germany, Luke and I took a quick morning detour to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. There isn't really that much one can say about the building...it's leaning. We took a bunch of silly photos in front of it, then headed to the airport and were on our way.

When we finally made it to Berlin, I was pleasantly surprised: the weather was cold enough to wear a sweatshirt! But beyond that, I was super excited to be in Berlin in the first place. Like I mentioned in my previous post, I am a huge history nerd. Seeing living history throughout the entire city was something I was hugely looking forward to. And that's exactly how we started off the trip.

Our hostel offered a free walking tour with New Europe. If you feel obliged to do anything tourist at any point during a Europe trip, I would highly recommend using New Europe. Our tour group was led by an Australian who lives in Berlin now, and he showed us through pretty much all the historical sites throughout East Berlin. We started off at the Brandenburg Gate, then saw the Holocaust Memorial across from the Tiergarten, as well as the bunker where Hitler shot himself. (If you try to look for it, you'll just see a parking lot because the Germans have built over it).

We ended up walking for probably four or five hours, and saw the Luftwaffe HQ (now a tax agency), a portion of the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, the German concert hall and Huguenot church, the Opera House, the Book Burning Memorial, the Nach wache (I know I'm butchering the spelling on that), Museum Island, and the Berlinerdom. That's a mouthful, and needless to say I was nerding out.

One of the most impressive sights of being in Berlin is how far the city has come just twenty years after the reunification of East and West. Our hostel is located in East Berlin (a few blocks from the TV tower), and everywhere around the area is flourishing. There are great cafes and restaurants -- for some reason a lot of tasty vietnamese and thai food -- and tons of shopping that I'll undoubtedly take a look at tomorrow before we leave.

Another part of Berlin that I've really enjoyed is its transportation system. The feel of Barcelona and Madrid's metro systems were relatively small by comparison, because Berlin runs bother underground and above ground trains (U- and S- Bahn, respectively). On top of that there are bus lines, so it feels like a massive public transit system compared to the other cities I've been to. Running out of time on my internet cafe purchase, so I will wrap up my thoughts and experiences in Berlin in a subsequent post!

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Firenze (I can't think of a witty title)

2010-07-18T14:01:00.000-07:00

Writing this post in Berlin, where we finally made it to today. Starting to get caught up on my Blog post chase. Going to get my history nerd on and see tons of World War II and Cold War stuff in person.

Spain was truly an experience, entirelz different than when I went 15 zears prior. Sidenote, I am writing this blog post from an internet cafe that has its y and z kezs switched. There maz be unintentional y and z mixups, to which I sincerelz apologiye.

However it was time to move on, because it's Europe Trip Oh'Ten and not Spain Trip Oh'Ten. So we finished up our time in Spain by taking a ridiculously long day of traveling from Barcelona to Madrid by bus to Milan by plane. Lucas and I spent the night in Milan in even hotter weather than we had in Spain (pretty much the most unbearable weather you could possiblz ask for), and then trained from Milan to Florence. So after over 24-hours of travel, we had finallz arrived at our destination.

Man oh man do I wish I could post photos on here. The hotel that we checked in to had an amazing amount of amenities, from free-unlimited international calls to free laundry service to discounts at local restaurants. But while those were all great -- and yes I did take advantage of the unlimited international calls -- the best thing might have been the view of Florence from the balconz of our hotel. Straight at the Duomo and all of Florence.

Florence is a lot different than Spain. Understatement of Europe Trip Oh'Ten perhaps? First is how laid back it is. While Spain parties until the sun comes up everydayz somehow, Italy eats reallz great food and kind of lounges about until the sun comes up. To generalize a bit, I guess. But Florence was such a magnificent city, it was a tad bit overwhelming. The Duomo, Ghiberti's golden doors, and the Ponte Vecchio -- things I'd seen in countless art historty books actually showing up in person? No way.

There were too many great things to name about Florence. The city itself is remarkable small in terms of size. You could conceivably walk from one end to the other at a leisurely pace in about an hour. Or you could walk briskly in a half hour. I did a run the last night we were there that did exactly that, and it was fantastic. But while size, art, and architecture stick out, there were two things above everything else that made Florence great.

First was the food. I can't even begin to describe the amazing foods that I had in Florence, so I think I'll just list them. Spaghetti a la Bolognese, Spaghetti with cream and porcini mushrooms, Margherta pizze, Cannolini a la spinach e riccota, Pasta with carrots and lamb. And gellato gellato gellato and more gellato. If you ever go to Florence, the two places I would recommend trying are Gellato al Neri and Trattoria Quattro Leoni. Thanks to Yelena and Tim for the suggestions, they were nothing but spectacular.

Second was the Michelangelo's David. There is a fake David that adorns one of the Plazas in Florence (I would recommend going there anzwazs because musicians will plaz there often. A concert band and a guitar plazer who sounded like Paul Simon both performed while we sat). However if you ever go to Florence, shell out the 10 euros to see the real Statue of David. I honestlz feel that Ive never seen something so powerful and awe-inspiring in my life. Entire essays have been written about the David, so I won't bother to expound upon them now. If you ever see it, you'll know that it is truly an amazing feat of human creation.

Shout out to Yelena for being absolutely amazing. Florence was so much fun to experience with you, and for someone that had onlz been in the city for about a month you knew all the hot spots and great places to check out. Thanks!

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Besos For Barcelona

2010-07-17T03:30:00.000-07:00

Finishing up our last night in Florence. Then its off to Pisa for a quick look at a remarkable failure of human engineering, and a flight to Germany.

Once the debauchery in Pamplona was finished, we waited for our bus. And waited. It felt like an eternity, even though it was really only four hours. But finally we hopped on a bus from Pamplona to Barcelona, and arrived in one of the funkiest, coolest, prettiest, and bestest cities in the whole world around 7 o'clock.

We needed to get to Barcelona as soon as possible so we could catch the World Cup Final of Spain versus the Netherlands. In retrospect, it would have been smarter had we gone to watch the game in Madrid. The reasoning being (here is my only partially correct attempt at an explanation of a political situation) that Barcelona is a part of Catalonia, which continuously pushes for autonomy from the larger Spanish nation. When we were arriving in Barcelona there was a large pro-Catalonia rally, and instead of everyone chanting "Yo Soy Espanol" it was "Yo Soy Catalan." As a touristy outsider I found this quite interesting. And for the game situation, it meant that people wouldnt care as much about the national sport as say FC Barcelona winning the title.

But that sounds like I'm undercutting the experience of watching the Title Game in Barcelona. Or the experience of watching Spain win the World Cup championship while in Spain. Hardly. To describe it in one word, I would again choose "EPIC." Maybe even "LEGEND (wait for it...) DARY." We wandered throughout the city to try and find a huge screen and large open space to watch the game at. There was supposedly a gathering down at the Marina, but we opted to look for one in a larger plaza. For a while it seemed as though there was nothing, that the Catalonia/Espana difference would dampen our experience. And then we wandered into Plaza Espanya.

I am too lazy (and as you will see in a bit, unable) to post to pictures from our viewing of the World Cup final in Plaza Espanya. However, I recommend you simply google the area to see what it looks like. And then imagine that entire Plaza in front of the Palace jampacked with probably 100,000 people. All rooting for Spain -- except one Netherlands fan who was simply crushed after Iniesta's goal late in overtime. The game was itself an amazingly good game, with lots of chances, lots of luck for Spain and plenty of bad for the Netherlands. But Iniesta's goal was the fire Plaza Espanya was looking for, and once he nailed it the fireworks started going in Barcelona -- and all throughout Espanya.

We jumped up and down. Grabbed strangers and started cheering. We whooped and hollered. WE SANG LOTS OF SONGS, including We Will Rock You, We Are the Champions, Song 2, and The Boss's Born in the USA for some reason. We even ran into the fountains around Plaza Espanya, showering ourselves in really dirty water and kind of damaging my camera beyond disrepair. But it was totally worth it, because Spain won the World Cup. The entire night was totally nutty, with people shouting in the streets and partying all night long.

To describe the rest of our experience in Barcelona would be best said as "partying all night long." By day we ventured to the beauty within the city, and saw the shops along La Rambla, the gorgeous view in front of Colombus statue at the Marina, and the Seuss-esque designs of Park Guell and its breathtaking vistas of the city. And by night we went out to some amazing meals for Catalonian cuisine, tapas, paella, and sangria, and hit up some of the best bars and clubs around. If you have never been to Barcelona, it should be the next international city you travel to. It was my second time going, and it was my second time being utterly blown away by amazement.

Special thanks to Jake and Kristen for being the coolest couple ever, and great travel companions on the first leg of the trip. To Chance and Nicole for helping us out with the hotel and being the coolest couple we already knew. To Zack and Sean for being two really awesome dudes that we met and had a terrific time with in Barcelona staying out late every night. And to Maria and Judit, for being everything you can love about Barcelona.

Europe Trip Oh'Ten -- Running with the Bulls

2010-07-16T03:20:00.001-07:00

Here´s the second in a series of posts about Spain. Lucas and I have had absolutely no time to check Emails or tweet (All our best laid plans went awry) so I´m posthumously writing about Madrid, Pamplona, and Barcelona. Right now we´re in Florence!

When we last left off Lucas and I were headed to Pamplona. When we set out on our Europe Trip we decided that the Running of the Bulls was one of the few things on the agenda -- the rest was open-ended. So after two exhausting and overly amazing nights in Madrid, it was time to make our way to Pamplona for San Fermin and the Running of the Bulls.

We set out with Jake and Kristin. The two were a couple we met the first night of our trip who were also staying at Cats Hostel. They too had dreams and aspirations to run with los toros in San Fermin, so we all decided to book our bus tickets together. This turned out to be one of the many early highlights on the trip, as we were all raging and engaging in shenanigans and hijinks on the bus ride. Actually, that didnt (crap still dont have a normal English keyboard) happen at all. We were too tuckered out from the night before in Madrid.

Pamplona is a relatively small city in the northern area of Spain. It was made famous when Ernest Hemingway documented the Running of the Bulls event in his novel The Sun Also Rises. And when you go to Pamplona during the San Fermin festival, you really dont get any sense of the city of Pamplona. It swells by thousands (probably hundreds of thousands) to be a gigantic party and festival in which out of town Spaniards and tourists alike come to celebrate...errr they actually dont know what they are there to celebrate.

But celebrate they do! And thats exactly what we did. While Jake and Kristin shared a hotel room for the night with some friends, Luke and I decided to brave the streets and stay out partying all night. It was a pretty wild evening where there were just thousands upon thousands of people walking around. There were booths with food lined up in the large city park, as well as shops and a few stages with live music and DJ sets. After we had stayed out wandering these various areas until about 5:30 am, it was time to head to the course. Our friends got up around that time and met us and we all wandered down.

The race itself turned out to be a little anticlimactic, I think because we had started to crash well before the race started -- a common trend for a lot of people in Pamplona. And as we walked the streets that were littered with trash on our way to the bus station to leave, thousands of people in the traditional white pants with red sashes (we had these as well) were stained with sangria and sleeping anywhere they could. It felt like a similar level of debauchery as you would find in Vegas, only without the gambling.

In the end though, we went to the Running of the Bulls. And it was absolutely EPIC. Next blog post I'll document our lengthy stay in Barcelona (may consider breaking it into two)

Europe Trip Oh'ten -- Madly In Love With Madrid

2010-07-13T12:02:00.000-07:00

Here´s the first in a series of posts about Spain. Lucas and I have had absolutely no time to check Emails or tweet (All our best laid plans went awry) so I´m posthumously writing about Madrid, Pamplona, and Barcelona. Right now we´re headed to Italy!

Our last day in Madrid was spent aclimating ourselves to really humid and hot weather. Kind of reminded me of my summers back in the District, not going to lie. We are returning to Madrid at the end of our trip because that is where we will be flying out. However we left early to go to Pamplona for the Running of the Bulls at San Fermin.

What we did on our last day in Madrid was a nice indication of the epic times that have carried the first week of Europe Trip Oh'Ten. it started off with a simple meal of fritatas, pollo, and ensalada at a local restaurant on Atocha. Then Luke and I traveled down to check out the Reina Sofia. That´s one of the two largest museums in Madrid (The other being the Prado). If you ever find yourself in Madrid, I would highly recommend checking out Reina Sofia for the sole reason that the second floor is a shrine to Pablo Picasso. You can see the evolution of his work through his studies in Africa to the culmination of his career in Guernica. Actually its really just worth it to see Guernica, because its one of the most overwhelming and awe inspiring paintings in the history of art. I dont really have much analysis to offer on it currently, but I'm planning to do a longer post on all the art I get to see after the trip once I venture to Italy, France, and England.

After the Reina Sofia, it was off to a stroll in the Parque del Bien Retiro. I can´t quite come up with a great comparison for the experience of walking in this park. Its different than Central Park in NYC because you aren´t surrounded by a skyline. It feels like a normal, everyday park that you would want to just stroll to for a picnic. But it is gynormous. And calming. And just plain fun.

From there Lucas and I ventured back to the hostel. Our hostel offered a bar hopping tour to see a couple of different bares and then to go to one of the discotecas in the city called Kapital. From most of my friends this was highly recommended as one of the best places to go -- I'm not really big into dancing around and stuff, but it was a giant 7-story behemoth of dancing fun. Lucas and I went with a bunch of different people from our hostel, some from British Columbia and others from California. It was a great, motley crew, and a whirlwind way to start off the trip in Madrid.

The next day we woke up early and decided to head to Pamplona. Read about it in my next post. (Hopefully coming soon if I can find a computer to write from)

Europe Trip Oh'Ten - Viva Espana!

2010-07-08T01:09:00.001-07:00

Be forewarned -- I am writing on a keyboard that doesn't seem to have a colon, has ´ where the ' should be, and is in Madrid. This might be an even sillier post.

We arrived in Madrid yesterday morning at 8 am, and by 10 o'clock had checked in to our room at Cat's Hostel in the area known as Huertas. If you are ever looking for a good area and place to stay, I would highly recommend Cat's Hostel. Thank you to Claire Mitchell for the advice!

After napping and eating a chocolate croissant, we set out with two objectives (Insert Colon here)
1. Find a great tapas bar that was open at 5 p.m. -- utterly impossible
2. Get a spot at Estadio Santiago Bernabeu (The Stadium that Real Madrid plays at) to watch the Semifinal between Alemania and Espana.

Fortunately the Let's Go! Guide I purchased before we left proved pretty helpful. It recommended a pretty small but amazing tapas bar called Casa Alberto right up the street. Luke and I tried the house beer (outstanding), albondigas (meatballs), patatas y pimentos (potatoes and pimento peppers with sausage), and calimari (calimari). Objective 1 -- Complete.

Our second objective proved to be easier to complete, yet far more rewarding. We traveled with a motley crew of 15 different hostel'ers coming from America, Canada, Australia, and plenty of other places I don't remember off the top of my head. Decked out in Spanish jerseys, flags, and hats (I picked up a pretty sweet blue straw hat with Espana in red and gold all around it), we traveled to Estadio Santiago Bernabeu to watch the game.

It was an absolutely unreal experience. There were nearly 100,000 people outside the stadium watching the match on giant screens, decked out in flags, chanting (Yo Soy Espano -- I'm probably slaughtering that) and hollering and having a once in a lifetime experience. Well, it would've been a once in a lifetime experience if not for Puyol's header. Now Spain's going to play the Netherlands in the World Cup final on Sunday, and Luke and I are headed to Barcelona (by way of Pamplona) to meet up with our friends Chance and Nicole.

But before we leave, we've got a few more things we want to do in Madrid. So I'm going to end this blog, shower, brave the heat outside, and head to the museo reina sofia that houses Picasso´s Guernica and Parque del buen retiro. Hasta Luego!

Europe Trip Oh'Ten - Bon Voyage

2010-07-06T03:00:00.000-07:00

Today is the start of my trip to Europe. I'm traveling with Lucas Noble, a good friend from high school. As I published earlier, we are headed on what could potentially be a whirlwind tour of Europe. We have a hefty list of places we want to see, people we want to visit, foods we want to eat, and so on and so forth. There's a ton of stuff we want to do, but what we will end up doing has yet to be determined.

Personally I'm a little annoyed that our international trip to Europe doesn't get to travel out of the Bradley International terminal at LAX. Since our flight leaves LAX at 6:30 a.m. and lays over at JFK for two hours in the afternoon, we technically aren't going internationally. We're just going to New York. Sweet, that's exactly what I wanted to do for this trip. Head to the Big Apple. Just in time for everyone to be depressed that the big signing in the Big Apple is Amare Stoudemire instead of Lebron James.

Our flight only lays over for two hours. Then we're onto the Transatlantic leg and into Madrid the next morning at 7:30 a.m. This is exciting. We're planning on checking in to our hostel (Cat's Hostel) in Huertas and taking a nap and shower to get rid of that airplane funk. From there it's on to exploring the area. My friends Claire, Lily, and Tess were all gracious enough to recommend bars, clubs, museums, restaurants, and sites throughout Madrid, so Luke and I are planning on hitting as many of them as we possibly can.

The highlight of Wednesday night is unequivocally the Spain/Germany World Cup Semifinal. I've already gotten emails from a couple of friends that are in Germany trashtalking. Rightfully so, after that well-oiled German machine decimated England and Argentina in consecutive matches. But I don't really care. GO SPAIN!

Travel Blogs To Look Forward To

2010-06-29T11:33:00.000-07:00

I’ve made a long list of things that I have to do before I leave for Europe, and need to work on carrying that out today. If you sent me recommendations yesterday, thank you. Keep them coming. While I’m working on building a blog for this upcoming trip, here’s a revisited blog post from one of my last great trips: to Ohio (published on October 13, 2009). Here are links to the sections in Kentucky and Washington DC.

I just went on the most epic trip through the Midwest, South, and East Coast. Yes, I’m going to give you a play-by-play. Here’s what happened on my days in Ohio, on Thursday and Friday.

HOTlanta? More like NOTlanta
It was a lot cheaper to fly from San Francisco to Atlanta to Cincinnati than to fly direct. Most times I don’t mind layovers, because they’re cheaper and I tend to sleep well on planes. But the only time I’d been to Atlanta’s airport, I hated it. And going back on Thursday reminded me why: IT’S TOO BIG. For instance, it took so long to get to my connecting flight that if my first flight hadn’t gotten in twenty minutes early I would’ve missed it.

OHIOOOOOOOO
Ken and I both got in around 7 p.m. and Tim picked us up. CVG is actually in Kentucky, so we drove through Kentucky, Indiana briefly, and then got to Oxford, Ohio. That’s three more states off the list. Once we got in, it was time to chow down at the local burger place Skippers. They had intense waffle fries, and we got to watch an even more intensely awesome ending to the Dodgers game. (Ronnie Belliard and Mark Loretta, really? We didn’t have anyone else to hit?) We knew it was going to be a good trip.

The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
Tim owns this preposterous jacket ever. It looks like something out of an ‘80s Devo video, if you got run through a paint shop. Because it was pouring rain and I was naturally unprepared, I opted to wear this crazy outfit. Needless to say I looked like a goofus from California, and it was a big hit.

Going out in Oxford is really fun. We bought three 20 ounce cups of Natty Light, and it came out to $6. When I heard this I thought “$6 each? Not too bad.” And then I was corrected. Everything is cheaper in Ohio, which makes life even more fun. What doesn’t make it more fun is finishing each night with a Qdoba binge (The “Dobe”). Don’t eat at Qdoba, ever.

My Sobriety Streak ends at seven-months
No, I still drink. I’m in college, come on. I was talking about drinking earlier in this post. My “not playing video games” streak is over. I used to play non-stop (Mariokart, Halo, Guitar Hero, Rock Band, you name it). I did it all. But I put down the controllers for seven-months, and came back to having a social life. And threw it all away Friday afternoon. What game did I play?

Beatles Rockband. And it was awesome.

Calvin Goes to a College Hockey Game
All of my friends are really into hockey and soccer. I have tried time and time again to wrap my head around these games, but I just can’t seem to latch on. However, if I went to Miami OH I would definitely be a hockey fan. At least a college hockey fan. The game that we went to was amazing.

The Redhawks are the top-ranked college hockey team in the country. They played St. Cloud State (kind of like James McCloud State), a pretty good ranked team. And the game was really good – an overtime win for the Redhawks, 3-2. But the best part about the game was the chants. Miami fans are obscene, chanting “D-I-L-D-O,” waving goodbye to players in the penalty box, and boo referees when they skate onto the ice before the game. Each chant was nastier than the previous, but they were all amazingly fun.

Midwest, LET’S GO!
I started busting out “Let’s Go!” on the Midwest. They’re all doing it now. And go we did, to “The Stadium.” And again with the cheap drinks they had, as I got a tall boy of Natty Light for $1.50. I might have to reconsider where I want to live after I graduate.

Tim’s friends’ band was playing covers all night, and some of them were pretty good. We really started getting into it when they played “Learn to Fly.” I think all of our pictures from the evening were during this one song. And “Semi-Charmed Life,” because who doesn’t love Third Eye Blind? But some of the other covers were pretty bad. Like a cover of “Lollipop,” featuring a guest metalcore singer. It was so bad I wanted to hear it again. But the worst was that the band ended with “Closing Time,” and didn’t know the words to the verse. Think about that for a second.

Ken Hits Girl in the Face with Beer Can
As we were leaving Stadium, somewhat unhappy that no one knows the verse lyrics to “Closing Time” in Ohio, Ken got a brilliant idea: Throw a beer can he found on the street! So Ken grabs this beer can, and I don’t really remember the next part because I was not really paying attention to his antics/shouting “Let’s Go!” But what I do know is that, after I heard a clunk, I turned around and saw that Ken had just hit one of the girls in our party with a beer can. In the face. Nice work Ken! Way to leave your mark.

Halo with Most Awesomely Hot Girl in History of Hottest Girls
Any girl that gets drunk, dances around in a funny manner, and THEN asks if you have Halo 3, she is the hottest girl in the history of hottest girls. This happened, and Tim and I were literally mesmerized. This was one of the high points on the ever-increasing list of high points during the trip.

A List Of Places I'm Going In Europe

2010-06-28T11:03:00.000-07:00

Lucas and I are leaving for Europe on July 6th. That’s just a week and a day away. I am unbelievably excited and have a lot of things left on my to-do list this week before I fly out. Chief among them is creating a twitter feed and a new blog that will specifically for the trip. When I make that, I will post all the information online for you to access.

Second, if you are interested in getting a postcard from Europe, please send me your preferred address. You can do that by posting your address as a comment down below or by shooting me an email with it. Or you could text it to me, if you happen to have my phone number.

Lastly, here’s a list of the cities Lucas and I want to go see in Europe. We don’t have a set itinerary beyond flying in and out of Madrid on July 6th and August 12th, respectively. That’s the most exciting part of this trip is the freedom that we’ve afforded ourselves. If you’ve got any recommendations of things to see/places to go in these cities, send them my way:

Madrid
Pamplona
Barcelona
Ibiza
Florence
Venice
Prague
Munich
Berlin
Amsterdam
Brussels
London
Dublin

A Night At The Movies

2010-06-25T08:30:00.000-07:00

“When the road looks rough ahead

And you’re miles and miles from your nice warm bed

You just remember what your old pal said

‘Cause you got a friend in me.”

- “You've Got A Friend In Me” By Randy Newman

The other night I saw Toy Story 3 for the first time. I have been sporadic in going to see recent Pixar movies. I saw Toy Story, Bugs Life, Toy Story 2, Monsters Inc., and Finding Nemo all in theatres. Loved them all – although I wasn’t as hot on Finding Nemo as the others. But after that, it’s been very up and down. Saw the Incredibles, didn’t see Cars or Ratatouille. Saw Wall-E, didn’t see Up. I think the fact that I was growing up caused me not to go see all of those. Or it might have been the increase in prices. But either way I found myself seeing Toy Story 3.

Everytime I leave a Pixar movie, I always have the same reaction: can they do no wrong? I left the Incredibles just dying of laughter, and thinking Jason Lee makes a pretty good villain. I left Wall-E feeling that I could and should try to change the world. This has been going on since I was a little kid, and first saw the original Toy Story. For me that movie seems like the first I ever saw. Even though I had seen plenty of movies in theatres before then, like Aladdin, Ace Ventura, and Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: The Movie.

Toy Story stands out so vividly. First, the storyline was just mesmerizing. To a seven-year-old boy, I’m sure anything involving toys would be just that. But I’ve watched it again and thought how great the concept was, and how even better some of the jokes and ideas were executed now that I understand them all. Second, the talent in the movie itself was brilliant. Tom Hanks and Tim Allen were obviously tremendous, but people like Don Rickles and John Ratzenberger backed up what was truly an allstar cast. Third, the person I saw it with.

My dad.

And as Randy Newman’s now iconic anthem started playing in the opening (I Love L.A. being his only other truly great song), a few tears crept out. I’d seen the first two Toy Story films over 12-years ago with my dad, and this was the first time I was watching them without him.

The song “You've Got A Friend In Me” has meant a ton to me over the years. It was a song that my father would play in most of the slideshows he put on for my elementary school days. And it was a song that we played during our tribute video to my father during his memorial service. It’s a song that introduced me to how great music can be, and how it can transcend different mediums.

My friends and I sat there watching Toy Story 3. We laughed – pretty hard at a few times – and enjoyed it. Because Pixar can do no wrong. But when I left I couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness as well. It was that mix of happiness and sadness when one of your favorite songs finishes. It was the sadness of a wish I’m still grappling with three months later.

I wish my dad could’ve been there to watch one more movie with me.

Living In A Donovan Down By the River

2010-06-24T09:00:00.000-07:00

That's what I would have called my trivia team, if I had a chance to last night: “Living in a Donovan down by the river.” There was no greater American on Wednesday, June 23, 2010, than Landon Donovan.

Since a lot of Americans don’t actually care about soccer or the World Cup, here’s a link to the replay of Donovan’s game-winning goal. Sure, the United States was tied 0-0 against Algeria with less than 4 minutes of stoppage time left and the goal won the game. That’s obvious. But what did it mean in the long-run? It meant the United States got to advance out of the group stage, and into the Round of 16.

What’s more – the United States won their pool. It’s the first time the United States has won a pool stage since 1930. They have advanced since the pool stage (most recently in 2002) but haven’t ever won the pool stage. That means they get a more favorable draw in the Round of 16. The United States will play Ghana, who finished second in their group behind Germany.

Rather than attempt to analyze the game itself, or provide any form of elementary insight (which would be minimal at best), here’s a link to an ESPN article that rates all the players in the game. And here’s another one that talks about how the United States is poised to make a run.

Some insight I can offer I did back on June 11. If you didn’t read that article, check it out here. But a point I’d like to emphasize, after hanging out with a lot of people who are as stubborn as me. It’s called the “World Cup” because the world plays it, and the world watches it. Granted there are a lot of Americans that support the team and care about the Cup. But I’ve heard a lot of people complaining about how they don’t care for soccer, how it moves too slowly, how it’s too hard to understand.

At times, I agree with them. Like I said on June 11, I have a hard time getting into soccer. But it’s the world cup because everyone plays it. And the world watches it. The population of the United States is roughly 300 million. The population of the world – approximately 7 billion. I’m no math major, but I’m a nerd. I did the math and that means the United States accounts for four percent of the world’s population.

So 96 percent of the world’s population cares about the World Cup. Talking strict percentages, that’s a pretty big bandwagon not to be hopping on regardless of whether the United States is performing well or not. But after an explosive finish like Wednesday’s game and Donovan’s goal, it’ll be even harder for the naysayers.

Atlas Shrugs?

2010-06-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

Written before the USA/Algeria game. Check in Thursday for analysis of the game.

It’s been a while since I posted a blog entry regarding my personal reading. That’s because I’ve been consumed for the past three some-odd months reading a modern epic – Atlas Shrugged.

Some of my friends have called reading Atlas Shrugged a life-changing experience. Others have suggested that you become a huge asshole for a while after you’ve read Atlas Shrugged. Both of these conditions are plausible, largely in part because you’ll have read 1070-plus pages. While the title comes from a quotation in the book (and largely references the theme of the novel and the philosophy of author Ayn Rand), I think it’s a testament to your own achievement after you’ve finished the book.

I finished the entirety of Atlas Shrugged a week ago. And if I forced myself through those nearly 1100 pages, I had to like it right? Yes and no. So with roughly 300-words left in my blog, here are my thoughts on Atlas Shrugged. My thoughts won’t spoil the book, because I think everyone should give the book a shot. You might like it. And even if you don’t, it’s important to understand where your opponents are coming from.

The book was published in 1953, and reflects all the fear of fascism, communism, and socialism. These fears were genuinely reflected in the actions of Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, and the Soviet Union. But the book took an interesting approach and looked not at what was actually happening in these countries. The book looked at what the leaders of these countries believed in (on a theoretical basis mainly) and took that to its extremes. These extremes caused Rand to illustrate a society increasingly embroiled by total social control.

The storyline was great. Using this extremely antagonist society, Ayn Rand crafted an intricate, mysterious, and ultimately great story. I found it pretty exciting (the second section did tend to drag). That being said, Ayn Rand was not a great storyteller. Yes the book was long, but she did have a lot of interesting things to say. She did not, however, tell them in an interesting way. Chief among her problems in telling the story were her characters.

The characters in the book were hardly dynamic, and not compelling to me. An exception to this was Hank Rearden, whose character stumbled upon dozens of realizations throughout the book. By the end of the story, I felt that he was a different and improved person. Not necessarily someone I would have liked to grab a drink with, but he was an improved person. Actually, very few of the characters made time for ordinary, everyday tasks. I expected time for dinner, clothes shopping, and so forth. But all the characters were too busy being static and working all the time.

The lesson to be learned from the story is rationality (objectivism is Rand’s philosophy). If you extrapolate the tenets of the -isms listed above, you will find yourself at the extremes in areas of social control. in order to counteract that social control, which is an inherent irrationality, you need to serve yourself above all others. In doing so you will benefit society. This is libertarianism, and what a lot of Tea Partiers are calling for.

The problem with this lesson (and the lesson it juxtaposes itself against) is that it is an ideal. It is hardly a reality, because people are not entirely rational beings. For instance, love as put forth in Atlas Shrugged is a celebration of life. One finds love reflected in others that share similar values . This is romantic, and beautiful. But love is not rational. People love for entirely irrational yet equally acceptable reasons. And similarly, people do not always look to care for themselves above others.

Atlas Shrugged was a great reading decision. I did not agree with all of the ideas in the book since life isn't that black and white. And I wish I could write an equally long response to articulate more of my thoughts on the book, but I won’t. However I will recommend Atlas Shrugged, but be warned: it’s long. You might be an asshole when you finish reading it.

Room Reorganization

2010-06-22T10:13:00.001-07:00

Of the things I’ve done while I’ve been back in Manhattan Beach, one of the things I’ve been happiest about is remodel my room. My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder swings from both extremes. At times I am a neat freak, and have to have everything clean and exactly as I like. And then at other times, I get super lazy and don’t really care about how anything looks. What’s more, I try to keep it that way.

My room in Manhattan Beach was case in point of that. It looked like a room that a high school student would have, potentially while he was away at college. So when I got back from college, I decided I had to reorganize my room. The room had to look like a room that a college graduate would live in – potentially while he was looking for that next step in his life.

Step one: Get a desk and construct a proper work environment. The previous setup in my room had a tiny side table that was stacked full of papers and high school memorabilia. There wasn’t a desk chair of any workable nature. Rather I had one of those nest/egg chairs sitting in the corner. It was cool, but by no means something I could use to actually accomplish anything other than sitting. So I removed those two items and got a real desk and real desk chair to accompany it.

Step two: Organize a music space. My mom had moved the keyboard and speakers that we originally had in the living room out. Every time I opened the door to my room I had to be careful not to hit the keyboard that was positioned behind it. Easy remedy for this situation – set up my keyboard in my room. I don’t live in a very big room, but if I moved my dresser over so it was flush up against my closet there was enough room to set up the keyboard. I put my acoustic and electric guitars, as well as my electric bass across from my keyboard, so I now have a little musical alleyway in the corner of my room.

Step three: bulletin board. In my opinion bulletin boards are a necessary part of organization. My older brother’s office has a gigantic 15-foot bulletin board that I used to construct storyboards and showflows. My room has a 3-foot bulleting board that I used to organize a lot of things I normally hang up on my walls. While steps one and two were the foundations of the reorganization, step three was the aesthetic “icing on the cake.” I’m able to display my old work credentials, my graduation memorabilia, a lot of sports tickets, and plenty of family pictures.

They’re just three steps, but they’re getting my room back in order for this next stage of my life. And I view my room as an extension of my life, so hopefully I’m getting my life back in order as well.

Resurfacing!

2010-06-21T11:47:00.000-07:00

Over the past week I disappeared. I was working for Stungun Productions to help produce their press event for Sony Computer Entertainment America. The press conference kicked off the larger Electronics Entertainment Expo (known as E3), where all the video game manufacturers and companies showcase their new software and products for the following year. Back in the day when I played video games all the time (read: not very long ago), I followed E3 pretty religiously. But I thought it was an even cooler experience to be a part of developing, rehearsing, and putting the overall show together.

Let's see, what else happened. OH, THE LAKERS WON!

So that was last week. What about the past few days? Well I spent this past weekend surprising my grandpa in Arizona. My mom flew out to visit him for Father’s Day weekend, and I tagged along. The highlight of the weekend was my grandfather’s new Hyundai (pronounced Sunday) Sonata. It’s a 2011, drives beautifully and a lot differently than the Volvos I’m used to. Anyway since he purchased this new car, it gave my mom an opportunity to buy his Honda CR-V. Two days later, we were leaving my grandfather’s house with a new car that my younger brother will be able to drive – and I’ll be able to steal all I want.

Well those are the potentially two largest developments of last week. On top of that, I finally finished reading Atlas Shrugged. There’s no way I will devote the rest of my blog post to Atlas Shrugged. I’ll talk about that later this week.

After all those developments from last week, there are a few things on the horizon. Chief among them is my trip to Europe. Lucas and I are flying out of LAX for Madrid on July 6th, and we are flying back to LAX from Madrid on August 12th. Apart from that, we do not have a set itinerary. What that means is tons of flexibility, and the potential for one of the coolest adventures of a lifetime. We’re going to start up a separate twitter and blog to broadcast our trip, and I’ll post the details on this when I’ve got them.

Lastly, I’d like to wish everyone who reads this a Happy Father’s Day. I know it’s the day after, but I don’t post on Sundays and was driving back all yesterday. Even though my dad’s been gone for the past three months, I didn’t stop thinking about him all day or how great the first 22 years of my life were with him. Plus, I did spend it with one of the best grandfathers out there. Hopefully you all got a chance to spend it with an equally cool dad.

World Cup Fever

2010-06-11T11:09:00.000-07:00

“When I get older I will be stronger

They’ll call me freedom just like a waving flag”

- “Waving Flag” by K’naan ft. David Bisbal

The World Cup started today. I love watching the World Cup. Not because I’m a soccer fan. Actually, I’m really not that big of a soccer fan. Don’t get me wrong – I love soccer. I really enjoy playing it, and when I watch with friends that are really into the sport, I have a great time. But I have a hard time watching soccer on my own.

However for some reason I love watching the World Cup. I think the reasons are pretty evident – the fact that it’s all encompassing, world bragging rights are on the line, and so forth. It’s a lot more entertaining than watching, say, an MLS game. Or at least it’s a lot easier to get into on your own when than an MLS game.

While I can’t really get into soccer on my own, the World Cup is something I could if I had to. However all of my friends, as well as the entire world, are into the World Cup. Same thing happens with hockey. I don’t really have the attention-span or interest level to watch an entire season of hockey and get into the games. But for the Winter Olympics, I was enthralled. And for the Stanley Cup playoffs, I can get pretty into it.

Anyway, the World Cup kicked off today in South Africa. Host country South Africa drew against Mexico, continuing a trend of the Host country not losing in its opening match. South Africa nearly won the game, but a late goal attempt by Katiego Mphela hit the side post and went out of bounds. All in all though, it was a pretty entertaining game. The only annoying thing was the sound of bees throughout the game – the traditional South African X.

Tomorrow is the big day of reckoning. The United States plays England in their opening match. Revolutionaries versus Red Coats. Patriots versus Lobsterbacks. You get the picture. The game is at 10:30 Pacific, and I’d encourage you to watch. The whole world will probably be watching. And if you aren’t able to, at least check out the world cup song. The lyric is at the top of the page, and here’s a link to the video.

The Joys Of Cooking

2010-06-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

Simple foods are what I like to eat. Read American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, and you’ll see a ton of complex dishes. Meals with truffle oils, flakes of gold, and diamonds encrusted in them. They all sound just...awful. Those aren’t meals that I want to eat. If you offered them to me for free, I’d consider it. But if you offered them in place of a simple meal that my mom or I would make, I’d have to turn it down.

There’s something refreshing about heating up olive oil in a pan, sautéing some garlic, and then some onions and whatever meat you’re eating that night. That’s how I start off a lot of my meals. Healthy, refreshing, and simple meals. The chicken stir-fry I made for dinner last night followed this formula.

If you want to make said stir-fry and/or emulate this simple style of cooking that I hold dear, here’s what you’ll need:

- Choice of meat, cut into small pieces or strips

- Vegetables of your preference (for the stir-fry I used cabbage, bok choi, carrots, celery, water chestnuts, onions, broccoli, and snow peas)

- Olive Oil

- Garlic

- Salt and pepper

- Soy sauce

- A sweet sauce (It should be something to balance out the salty soy sauce. I used Teriyaki sauce from Trader Joes)

Once you’ve got all your ingredients, it’s a very simple procedure. Heat the olive oil and sauté the garlic in a pan. Then toss in the onions until they’re golden. After they’re golden, toss in the meat until you get a good browning going. While the meat is browning, I like to liberally pour salt and pepper to flavor whatever meat I’m cooking.

By the time the meat is browned, you’re ready to sauté the vegetables. Some people add a bit of water and bring the pan down to a simmer so they cook through. I don’t subscribe to that philosophy, and opt instead to stay the course at the same temperature. Once I feel that the vegetables are close to being done (soft but not mushy), I pour on whatever sauce combination I want. And voila – stir-fry. If you cook it on Friday, you can call it Stir-Friday (if you don't know the reference, watch Archer).

The beauty of stir-fry is that you can make variations of any kind. My buddy Aaron and I made a delicious stir-fry in DC that had asparagus, spinach, and mushrooms. I’ve made a more Mexican stir-fry that had jalapeno peppers, cilantro, and tomatoes in it. I prefer experimentation, and using recipes solely as a “jumping off” point.

And my cooking style encourages experimentation. Sure heating olive oil in a pan and sautéing some garlic might seem boring after a while. But I find joy in cooking every chance I get. Each venture offers a chance to create something unique, and hopefully it tastes good too.

Best (Sports) Week Ever

2010-06-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

My friend Lauren commented – on Facebook obviously – that this week couldn’t get any better. NBA Finals, her last week of college, and the World Cup is starting. I agree. This week couldn’t get any better. But there are a couple of things I’d add to the list to help it be even better in the first place.

The first was Stephen Strasburg’s debut. While I haven’t felt that I’ve missed much by deciding against my Nationals Season Tickets option (yes, I seriously considered this when D.C. was the plan), this has changed my mind. For those that don’t know, Strasburg was taken number one overall in last year’s MLB draft. He is touted by some as the greatest pitcher in all of baseball. Others are projecting he will have a hall of fame career. And up until yesterday he hadn’t pitched a game outside of the minors.

It’s safe to say he had high expectations. And after his performance, he exceeded them. Granted he was pitching against the lowly Pittsburgh Pirates, but even then it took him a bit to find his stride. The eventual stat-line: 7 IP, 4 H, 2 ER, 14 K, 0 BB. Most people point to the fact that he had 14 strikeouts as the ridiculous number. But the fact that he went seven innings in his first start, threw less than 100 pitches to get there, and had enough control to not walk a single batter is the most remarkable statistic. The Nationals were motivated too, because they even got him the win. This guy is going to be good.

The second was primary night in California. It’s hard to think of a recent primary election that was so uneventful. Granted I was gone from the state until the end of April, so I haven’t really seen the evolution of how things progressed in the respective races. But the outcomes of all the races were clearly defined before Tuesday, and no serious upsets occurred that I could see. Meg Whitman handedly beat Steve Poizner (I mean, shouldn’t we have seen that with his last name?). Carly Fiorina bet out her competition. Jerry Brown trounced the rest of a field of long-shot Democrats. The one race I had interest in was the Attorney General’s race.

My interest in that race was due partly to my discovery on Sunday night that Pedro Nava was running. I knew he was running before, but I didn’t connect the dots. If you look at his wikipedia page, it says that he is married to Susan Jordan, and that they have one child who recently graduated college. That one child who recently graduated college is my childhood friend Jedd. So this piqued my interest. But even a late personal connection to the races couldn’t stop the presumed outcome. Kamala Harris trumped a field of six other Democratic competitors with 33 percent of the vote. Hopefully the November election will be a bit more suspenseful.

The third was the Lakers game last night. I can’t provide any real original commentary on the subject, so I’m just going to link to the NBA Daily Dime page on ESPN. J.A. Adande’s analysis is pretty good, despite his silly metaphors and similes.

And the fourth is that a ton of my friends come back today. Ken, Lucas, and Jordann are flying back from Japan today. And Garrett and Tim are going to get back from their Midwest America trip as well. Welcome back to California guys, and gal.

Artful Weekend

2010-06-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

Not until I spent four years at Berkeley did I realize how artistic my friends and I are. It started with my friends from my childhood. We acted in elementary, middle, and some of us high school plays. We made videos and films, ranging from extremely terrible to atrocious. And we played music, acoustically and with blaring amplifiers.

At college that didn’t change. I met new friends, who I continued to play music with (and continued playing with some of my childhood friends through online song projects). My new friends and I kept acting, producing pieces of theatre on a wider scale. And I discovered a passion for writing, both comedic and personal. Yes, I linked to my blog.

And now that I’m finished with college, I’m hoping it continues. It’s somewhat daunting to consider getting a job in today’s world, especially because on the surface I don’t see much artistry in a lot of the titles. “Attorney.” “Consultant.” “Postal Worker.” Okay, that last one might not be a job for much longer. But you get the point. Sure, people argue that there is an art to each job and skill, or that you need to treat each job like it’s an art. I don’t think bringing actual art, like my acoustic guitar playing, into the work environment would improve productivity much. But it might increase the musical appreciation level.

However I am confident I will be able to incorporate art into what I do. Not because I know what I am going to do, because I have absolutely no real idea. But because I know that my close friends are going to continue their artistry throughout their lives. Some of them are going to make careers out of it. And this past weekend I saw a play with two of them, Andy and Ian, in their first post-collegiate performance.

“All in the Timing” was an absolutely fantastic production. If I blogged on the weekends, I would have urged everyone to go see their Saturday show. For some reason I just thought it was one of the funniest plays I’ve seen in a long time. What was the play? It was a series of short sketches written by David Ives, portrayed in a skinny-little theatre with minimal sets, lighting, and sound. Those are my favorite types of productions, because they hinge solely upon what you are there to see: the actors.

While I am biased toward my friends, I like to think I am their harshest critic. We all are each others’ harshest critics, because we make sure that we do our best. I have seen both Andy and Ian in some poor productions over the past few years (cough Immoral Combat, cough Urinetown). This was the exact opposite of those. Not only were they phenomenal – Andy delivered a monologue in which he explained why he is a typewriter, and Ian discovered he had the symptoms of living in Philadelphia. The entire cast was great, and the play itself was just fantastic. There was a sketch called “Phillip Glass Buys a Loaf of Bread.” Seriously.

Seeing two of my close friends in their first production after graduating was somewhat surreal. We’ve only known theatre and arts in general as an extracurricular activity, as a hobby. But it was truly great to see two of my friends taking their first step into something more than that. Ian through acting, and Andy through both directing and acting.

And since I know at least two of my friends are going to continue their artistry throughout their lives, it’s going to push me to do it as well.

My Graduation Speech

2010-06-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

Rather than talk about how the Lakers lost game two last night -- which they did, rather than the Celtics won -- I want to share something with you. I've posted my graduation speech to youtube, and you can find a link to it here. If you want to see a transcript copy of the speech, I posted it here in a previous post.

It's called "Personal History." I hope you enjoy it.

Game One: NBA Finals Tacos

2010-06-04T09:00:00.000-07:00

“I Love L.A.”
- “I Love L.A.” by Randy Newman

This entire week Kevin and I have been listening to the “Regina Spektor” Pandora station while at work. And we’ve spent the entire week making you know how I know you’re gay? jokes. So I thought about putting one of those up as my song of the week. But as Thursday night ended I heard a different tune. It was the sound of the Lakers beating the Celtics in game one of the NBA Finals, 102-89.

I was stuck in traffic for nearly an hour trying to get home to pick up my brother for the game, and by the time I made it home I had started seriously questioning my decision-making. The last NBA finals game I saw between these two teams was a 39-point blowout win in which the Celtics clinched their 17th title. Great, we’ve all heard that before, but it played louder in my head than the dull hum of engines and honk of horns in the 405 bumper-to-bumper traffic that I was stuck in. Fortunately different sounds played when I started watching the game.

The loudest sound was the clap made by hands around the basketball. The Lakers grabbed 42 rebounds (compared to the Celtics’ 31), and Pau Gasol had 14 of them. Another sound heard quite often was the swish of the Lakers’ shots. The team shot nearly 50 percent during the game, and every starter except Derek Fisher had double-digit points (Fish had 9, whatever). And the other sound was the whistle of the referees. A total of 54 personal fouls were handed out during the game, as well as three technical fouls.

Will any of these trends hold? If we move backwards I think we go from least likely to most likely. Will the refs call as many fouls in the future? I don't think that's likely. It felt like every play ended with a foul. Even the announcers made a significant portion of their commentary on the ticky-tack foul calling. Sidenote: I’ll discuss the epiphany I had during this game about commentators in being able to articulate why I can’t stand people like Marv Albert, Chris Berman, Mike Breen, John Madden, and Billy Packer.

What are the odds the shooting percentages hover around 40-50 percent (the Celtics shot 43 percent)? It’s not entirely likely, but it could happen. Ray Allen never got into a rhythm because of the two quick fouls he picked up, so he’ll definitely shoot better in the next game. And the Lakers probably will have a harder time making shots if the Celtics’ defense picks up (and doesn’t always result in fouls). But they have shot amazingly well – Kobe especially – throughout this playoffs, so they could stick within that range.

Can the Lakers keep grabbing ridiculous amounts of rebounds? Given the way the playoffs have gone, I am going with yes. The new-look twin towers of Gasol and Andrew Bynum are giving them a significant height advantage. And in his game one performance, Gasol clearly established himself as a stronger player on both the offensive and defensive ends than he was in the 2008 Finals. He might not have 23 points, 14 rebounds, 3 assists, and 3 blocks again. But if you factor in Bynum’s performance with 10 points, 6 rebounds, and assume that Odom won’t get as many fouls, then the chances look pretty good.

No matter how you cut it, one thing is clear. “I Love L.A.” was playing at the end of game one, and the Lakers had won. Now the real question is, will the fans get to take home tacos after game two again?

Almost Perfect*

2010-06-03T09:00:00.000-07:00

Phew! I was worried I would actually have to discuss the Celtics-Lakers finals series. But fortunately an even more important sports event happened Wednesday night that I can talk about, and I’ll leave the Celtics-Lakers series to the pundits. They have just as little an idea as me as to who will win the title. Sure Boston’s defense picked up during the playoffs, but they also finished the Orlando series 4-2 when they were up 3-0. And Kobe turned into a ruthless basketball sniper, but the Lakers started up 2-0 against the Suns only to have them tie the series 2-2 and ultimately win 4-2 as well. In other words past trends don’t really help project what could happen. So I’ll wait until after Game One.

Wednesday saw a painful sight for any sports fan, and a sign from God that he does not care for the Detroit Tigers. Armando Galarraga was one out away from pitching a perfect game. He delivered his last pitch to Jason Donald of the Cleveland Indians, who grounded out to Miguel Cabrera. Appropriately, Galarraga ran over to cover first and catch the ball for his last out, to receive his perfection so to speak. Only there was a slight problem.

Umpire Jim Joyce called Donald safe at first.

Galarraga should have had the perfect game – he actually did have a perfect game. If you watch the replay, you know that Joyce erred. Donald was clearly out. Which is why I think this is a different case than some of the other pitchers, like Mike Mussina and Pedro Martinez, who have lost perfect games with two outs in the ninth.

Everyone is complaining about this. But the fact remains that Joyce erred on his call. And it was the last call of the game, too (well, second to last if you count the play afterwards). So how about you record his error on the stat sheet? If you do, Galarraga has a perfect game.

Even if you don’t want to record Galarraga’s performance as a perfect game in that manner, I feel it should be recorded in record books as the exceptional case that it was. You can list it with the other “almost” perfect games, or you can put it on the list of perfect games if you so choose. Either way, it needs to have an asterisk next to it. And that footnote can explain what happened.

But the history books get written years from now. Today, the Celtics-Lakers game starts at 6 o’clock pacific time. You best be watching.

Looking For The Middle Ground

2010-06-02T09:00:00.001-07:00

Since my work in journalism, I have been fascinated by issues of objectivity and bias. In an ideal world, I feel that media would present all of the facts of a given story. This would allow for the reader of those facts to interpret them and draw his or her own conclusions. However, the world is not ideal, and all media has bias, whether blatantly visible or almost totally invisible. At first I thought that most journalists attempted to broadcast their own opinions into the stories they wrote. However, I have changed my opinion.

News media used to be centered between a few outlets, and painted itself as unbiased. However, media is proliferating at an amazingly exponential rate. I highly encourage anyone to read this article about the increase in authorship of media, something that is applicable to nearly anyone (including this blog!).

With such a proliferation of media today, there is less of an attempt at maintaining an unbiased perspective. Fox News’s slogan is “fair and balanced,” but plenty of people lampoon that. Keith Olbermann of MSNBC has stated that he is not a liberal, but an “American,” although some point out you can be both. And I have made fun of the stories the New York Times chooses to cover many times over. There is more media today, and there is more bias.

Where I changed my opinion on bias is in the presentation of facts. I formerly believed that journalists and commentators’ opinions impacted the stories they wrote. However, their opinions don’t change the facts. Rather, the facts they choose to present help to showcase their arguments and opinions.

Take a discussion of the British Petroleum (BP) Oil Spill that occurred on the Rachel Maddow Show last night. I have tried to wrap my head around this crisis for over 43 days now, but have a really hard time doing it. It would help if I had a legal degree so I could at least comprehend the liability of all the groups involved, and where the faults lay. And I’ve tried to look at different media sources for explanations, yet keep finding a bias.

Yesterday on the Rachel Maddow Show argued that BP could potentially be finished. Their stock fell by roughly 15 percent in the UK and US markets, in light of the “Top Kill” failure and the government’s statement to investigate for criminal and civil faults. Based on a clause of the Clean Water Act cited in the show, each barrel of crude oil spilled can cost up to $1,100, although if there are other legal faults met it could reach into the $4,000s. If that’s the case, BP could owe the federal government up to $10.7 billion dollars, on top of all other legal and clean-up costs.

These estimates are very interesting, and from all I can tell factual. Based on the facts presented, you can arrive at this conclusion. However, I heard a different take on NPR this morning in which a British expert stated that BP’s legal costs would not exceed its profits. Essentially they said that BP could afford this. This led me to ask, “How much did BP make last year?” According to their profit sheet, in 2009 they made a net profit of $16.8 billion.

Leaving out how much BP’s net profit was in 2009 helps make the point on the Rachel Maddow Show heftier. Granted BP may not survive the crisis, either if their stock plummets again or if they get placed under temporary receivership. But a counterfactual like BP’s 2009 profit value wasn’t mentioned during this segment. In my ideal world, it would have been. All the facts would have been.

Beach Therapy

2010-06-01T06:30:00.000-07:00

There is something therapeutic about the beach. I’ve lived near it my entire life, so it feels like home. But even if it’s not your home, it’s still a calming, relaxing place to go. For instance, the two protagonists of The Road are caught in a world that is lifeless, desolate, and miserable. Their goal is survival, and they believe their best chance at that is to travel to the sea.

I’ve been home for roughly a week, and I’ve spent half of that week at the beach. A beach party at Lucas’s house. A walk down to the beach at Rosecrans with Bryce and his brother Devin. And a Memorial Day party with a lot of my friends at 26th street. Each time brings something different, and each time is equally enjoyable. My days may have ups and downs, but every time I go to the beach is an up.

What is so calming about the beach? So relaxing? Is it a sense of security? It’s hard for me to put a finger on what is so great about it, perhaps because it’s such a staple in my life. But some of my friends don’t like going to the beach. They aren’t good at swimming. They don’t like the feeling of sand, or how it gets into all these random places you didn’t think were possible. They’re pale and don’t like to get caught in the sun. Or a combination of the above.

I think for many the beach represents an escape from daily life. That’s either as a vacation destination, a surf spot, a beach volleyball court, or a towel in the sand with a book. But the unique thing of growing up in Manhattan Beach, the LA-Area, and California more generally is that the beach represents a part of daily life for millions here.

Some people wake up in the early morning hours and go for runs, walk the dog, or hit the gym. In California a lot of people wake up and do those at the beach, and plenty more go surfing in those wee hours. Or they’ll head to the beach after they’re finished from work to catch some waves, or to run on the strand.

This could potentially sound like taking the beach for granted. I mean it is just right there. But it’s not. The feelings I get from the beach are similar to those people from out of town get: calmness; relaxation; happiness. The lucky thing for me is that I am just a few blocks away from experiencing that, while some people drive or fly for hours on end to get that feeling.

Today I’m starting work for Stungun Productions at the SCEA E3 Press Conference (no, I will not bother to explain the acronyms). But I’m still going to sneak some time in at the beach, either in the early mornings before work or in the late afternoon when I’m getting home.

Hopefully the sunburn on my back will be gone by the time I’m able to.

The Room

2010-05-31T09:00:00.000-07:00

I probably should be discussing the upcoming Lakers-Celtics NBA Finals tilt. But ESPN is going to do that for me. If you’re interested in seeing examinations of the history of the rivalry, comparisons of the current teams, and projections of the winners, I’d recommend watching ESPN any day this week. I may change my mind and weigh in Thursday before the series starts.

What I do want to discuss is “The Room.” On Saturday night Andrew, Max, Nathan and I all went to the Laemmle 5 Theatres on Sunset in Hollywood to see a midnight screening of “The Room.” What is “The Room?” It’s a film that was released in 2003, and is renowned by many as the worst film ever made.

How you define the worst film of all time is, obviously, quite subjective. For some reason, I tend to be very interested in bad movies. My friends and I all saw a midnight showing of “Snakes on a Plane,” and have watched such films as “Frankenfish,” “Mega Shark v. Giant Octopus,” and “DinoCroc,” to name a few. We even have a running gag to trade off an unopened copy of “Gigli” for gifts. My dad and I watched Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K) nearly every night with dinner. And I grew up watching “Godzilla” movies, an obsession that blinded me from how truly awful and absurd those films are – I still love them mind you.

So I am drawn to bad films, for some odd reason. In my opinion it’s because I can relate to them. When I was a child the home movies I made seemed like groundbreaking directorial debuts, akin to Orson Welles’ “Citizen Kane.” After I’ve rewatched some of them in recent days, they look closer to Ed Woods’ “Plan 9 From Outer Space” (often listed in the worst film ever debate). On top of that, I like to laugh. What better way to escape and have a laugh than to venture into an absolutely ludicrous, disjointed, and poorly developed film?

With such experience in poor filmmaking, I thought I knew what to expect with “The Room.” I had watched trailers for the film online, and heard about the epic midnight showings that Tommy Wiseau, the architect for the film, attended for Q & As. But I was entirely wrong.

“The Room” is a beast of a bad movie. After seeing it, I can’t adequately assert how poor it is. “Plan 9 From Outer Space” is bad because of its production value, as is “Godzilla” and half the films from MST3K. Other bad films just have awful scripts, or awful acting. But “The Room” combines all of that into an hour and a half of pure putridity. There is no continuity; subplots are mentioned once but never again; characters appear that are never introduced; and establishing shots last for hours on end. Read some of the points on the wikipedia page for all the problems.

Seeing it at midnight was an absolutely fantastic decision. People come dressed up as their favorite characters. They recite some of the memorable lines, while adding their own commentary about how ugly the female lead is. At times they run up to the screen to wave to people, and sometimes get up to poorly throw around a football during extended scenes of football passing. And for half of the movie they yell “SPOONS!” and throw plastic spoons at the screen.

If you ever get a chance, I highly recommend going to a midnight screening of “The Room.” It was one of the funniest and most fun experiences I’ve ever had. Max had a basketball game at 9 a.m., and we didn’t get back home until 3 a.m. But he was so happy he’d gone. We all were. It is one of the worst films ever made.

As I watched I couldn’t help thinking to myself how much I wish my dad had seen “The Room,” because he would have loved it. But yesterday, as I was cleaning out my room, I stumbled across a DVD as I sorted through my dad’s collection of MST3K and Rifftrax episodes. Guess what movie it was.

Time To Rock Out

2010-05-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

“I’m a street-walkin’ cheetah with a heart full of napalm
I’m a runaway son of the nuclear a-bomb
I am the world’s forgotten boy, the one who searches and destroys.”
- “Search and Destroy” by Iggy and The Stooges

Sometimes you just got to let go and rock out. That’s what “Search and Destroy” is for me – a release. It’s a release from life. You need to drown everything out, the crushing guitars require it. And with the speakers blaring you need to scream the lyrics along with it.

I’m not entirely sure I’d classify “Search and Destroy” as punk rock, nor would I classify it as just plain rock. I think it’s a solid “heavy rock-out” song. It’s been a while since I made a top-five list, but I feel it’s time. So here’s my top-five list of “heavy rock-out” songs, which you might classify as classic rock:

Honorable Mention: “Drive My Car” by The Beatles; “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benatar; “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen (yes, that pained me but it had to be done)

5. “Paint it, Black” by The Rolling Stones – One of my favorite hardcore bands is named for this song. That’s “heavy rock-out” written all over it. But just listen to that chorus. It’s absolutely perfect, primed to sing along to.

4. “When the Levee Breaks” by Led Zeppelin – The last track on what some people consider to be one of the greatest rock albums ever (Stairway to Heaven, Black Dog, Misty Mountain Hop). I think this is my favorite cut from Led Zeppelin IV. If you saw Almost Famous, then you’d recognize the song “Fever Dog” from this song. “When the Levee Breaks” just makes you want to bang your head back and forth until your head breaks.

3. “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival – What an absolutely amazing song. I think this song is one of the best songs ever written, with a pertinent message from the time period (Vietnam War disillusionment) that is still relevant today (government disillusionment). And it’s by a band that I would classify as one of the most American bands ever. My only knock against it is that, personally, I like this cover of it by the Dropkick Murphys even more.

2. “Tommy Gun” by The Clash – You can’t beat that snare roll. The song kicks in and you hear the snare mimicking the sounds of a tommy gun, and you can’t beat that. But the song keeps building upon it. The vocals don’t totally scream, the guitars don’t really crunch solos, and the music doesn’t blare. But together they make you want to rock out. Sorry, I avoided putting “London Calling” on here because it’s so overplayed that I actually don’t like rocking out to it that much.

1. “Search and Destroy” by Iggy and The Stooges – This is the pinnacle of “heavy rock-out” songs. My high school band used to close our shows with a cover of this song. Red Hot Chili Peppers did a pretty sick cover of this song. If people are emulating a song to this extent, then it’s got to be fun to rock out to. I can’t say enough about “Search and Destroy,” and if I tried to the words would just get drowned out in the sheer awesomeness of the music. So listen to it instead.

Don't Watch Glenn Beck. Ever.

2010-05-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

Glenn Beck is not someone that appeals to me. And I reaffirmed that when I found myself sitting through the entirety of his program on Fox News yesterday. He was yelling about the injustices of – surprise! – government control of information. He kept talking about the current head of the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs (OIRA), Cass Sunstein, and that office’s influence over the flow of information. Now I’m sure his point was entirely valid based on the paltry of facts he was actually providing. But his lack of presenting a complete picture, coupled with his loud, scathing, propagandist lecturing nearly put me to sleep.

Needless to say, I can’t quite give you the entire explanation of the program, and that’s probably for the better. But I can give you this clip, in which he compares Cass Sunstein to Ed Harris’s character from the Truman Show. This program shouldn’t be on a major news channel, because it’s as unintentionally funny as comedic news programs (read: the Daily Show) are intentionally funny.

However, the program did give me some interesting ideas. Greatest of them all was the power of lecturing. I have just graduated from the greatest public institution of learning in the country (perhaps even the world) and have been lectured to in plenty of courses. I have majored in history, and been lectured by 11 different professors. Each of them has insisted upon intense amounts of research. Understanding every detail. And accounting for all counterarguments when putting forth arguments, whether in discussion or in papers.

Contrast this with the program I watched on television for nearly an hour. Beck attacked Sunstein, calling him “more powerful than the Fed” and claimed that OIRA would greatly dictate the course of America. Granted, that’s true in a broad sense. OIRA looks at all forms of regulation that are written by major government agencies, and reviews them. Such regulations would include environment issues, Medicare/Medicaid, and finances. But OIRA is a part of the Executive Branch, and its head will play as much a part in reviewing regulations as the Obama administration will in organizing them.

If you watched the Glenn Beck program and didn’t have any idea about Sunstein or OIRA – typical of most people watching since OIRA is very obscure – then you would probably believe him. He is persuasive, articulating a point based on the limited facts he provides. His program is well organized, like a classroom lecture. It’s got flashy pictures and multimedia presentations, and he paces around in a concerned manner. Riveting stuff.

But if you watch it with a critical mind, and don’t simply accept the facts that are presented to you on TV, then you find flaws. That could be the education Berkeley’s provided me with. My professors taught me to question everything, even what they said. When I questioned, I would looked up the information for myself to find out whether what I learned was right or not. Read this article on the New York Times and you’ll see what Cass Sunstein and the OIRA really do.

My professors taught me to look for something like that. My professors have Doctors of Philosophy degrees. Glenn Beck doesn’t even have a Bachelors degree (ironically that’s on Wikipedia, since we’re speaking of believing everything you read). But that’s not a bad thing.

The bad thing is that he runs an hour-long, televised lecture program and insists upon the truth of his every word. When he should be inviting you to question what he is saying.

Robocop Politics

2010-05-26T11:38:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get entirely sidetracked from what I wanted to say because something hysterical comes up. You can thank my buddy Ross for this today.

My buddy Ross brought a great point to my attention this morning. Take Senator Michael Enzi's (D-WY) amendment to H.R. 4899 - The Supplemental Appropriations Act:

This amendment would prohibit a labor organization from serving as the representative of public safety officers if any of the organization’s officers or agents are convicted of a felony or misdemeanor related to the organization’s responsibilities, or if the organization does not work to stop a strike by public safety officers. Additionally, this amendment would provide any political subdivision or individual with the right to bring a civil action in Federal court against any public safety officer that engages in a strike, or other employment action that is unlawful, or contrary to the provisions of a collective bargaining agreement.

Sound familiar? That amendment is also the plot to Robocop 2. Minus the huge drug war. Enzi actually submitted amendments 4192-4199 for the bill. All of them are eerily reminiscent of the Robocop saga.

An Open Invitation

2010-05-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

I have spent the greater part of the past month or so living out of a dufflebag and being on the move. Today I’m finally back at home in Manhattan Beach. I’ve got nothing coming up for a week. So I’m just planning on relaxing.

And that includes writing. All I’ve done in my writings these past few entries is talk about future plans, what I’m doing with my life, blah blah blah. But today I’m not looking to the future. I’m looking for input.

Now that I don’t have any schoolwork to keep me busy, I can do anything until my heart is content. Got any recommendations for me? Let me know! That means places to go, people to meet, things to eat, books to read, sports to play (physical activities are frowned upon), and even topics to consider and blog about.

For the first time in my life school is not the focal point, and I am entirely open to attempting new feats. What do you think I should do?

What's Next?

2010-05-24T09:54:00.001-07:00

"So what happens next?" That’s the big question asked at the end of The Candidate, starring Robert Redford. They win the election, and as they’re watching they have absolutely no idea what to do now that they’ve been elected. There is no real game plan. Fresh off of graduating a week ago, I’ve felt the same way. Fortunately, I have a minor game plan. If all goes well, it’ll carry me through to December. My main goal this year was originally to graduate, move to Washington, DC, and get a job. I think my main goal is a lot loftier now: make it through 2010 alive.

In the immediate future, I’m going back down to Los Angeles. I plan on working with Stungun Productions, my older brother’s production company, on their E3 Press Conference with Sony Computer Entertainment America. I’ve worked for Stungun Productions in 2007 and 2009, and it’s always a wonderful experience. Both my brother and I grew up in the line of theatrical production thanks to our father, so for me it’s a great chance to return to that line of work for a bit during the year. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be running a production company? Not right now though.

After my work with Stungun Productions concludes, I’m going to travel. The way I put it in my graduation speech introduction was that “I want to get lost, and travel the world.” I am planning on traveling Europe with my friends Jesse and Lucas, and meeting up with Ken and Tim along the way. We are going to start in London in early July, and fly out of London in early/mid-August. Apart from that, I haven’t gotten very far. There are a lot of spots, sites, and people I would like to see while I’m in Europe (The Running of the Bulls, perhaps). But I am falling more into the group of just buying a roundtrip ticket and a Eurail pass, and then just being flexible the entire time. More on this in the future.

So Europe will get me through to August, but then what? From there it gets to be a bit tricky. I would love to keep traveling, but I don’t think I have the means to sustain that forever, especially without an infinite source of income or an objective. However I can’t. What will I look to do in the United States to survive through 2010?

First thing I’m interested in doing is working on a political campaign. I’ve done work in a Senate office, and done work with non-profit groups. But I haven’t campaigned before, and I think it would be a beneficial experience to try some campaign work. Especially since I’ve said before that I’d like to become David Axelrod.

Second thing I’m going to do is finish writing my book. What? I’m writing a book? Yeah, that’s not something I’ll be writing about in today’s post. Perhaps later this week though. Actually, I think I’m just going to stop because if I say all of my plans right now, I’ll run out of things to blog about. I’ll sum up what’s next for me in one word: survive.

Survive

Bend It Like Bend

2010-05-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

"It's been a long time since I rock n' rolled."
- "Rock n' Roll" by Led Zeppelin

How do I follow up a graduation? By going to a family reunion, clearly.

They day after graduating from Berkeley, I flew with my mom, Max, and grandmother to Portland, Oregon. There we met my cousin Jessie at the airport, as well as my cousin Nate who is living back in Los Angeles. We were all getting together, along with my Aunt Trisha, Uncle Tom (ironically best name uncle ever), and Uncle Phil and his wife Mia and their daughter (and my cousin) Delaney. The purpose of our get together: My Grandmother’s 79th birthday. The indirect purpose of our get together: a family reunion.

Wednesday was spent getting in to Portland, doing laundry at my cousin Jessie’s house while being molested by the most ridiculous dog. It’s named Cleveland because her boyfriend is from there, but it’s only five or so months old. And literally jumps up and tries to claw, bite, and molest you. I want a dog.

From there we went to my Aunt and Uncle’s place up the street to have dinner (Tortilla Soup) and watch the Lakers game. No one there were no Lakers fans but my mom, Max and I, but watch we did. And win the Lakers did. So naturally everyone was unhappy as we gloated and ate tortilla soup. Finally it was time to call it a quits and hit the hay.

Thursday was spent driving to the family reunion locale: Bend, Oregon. Bend is about four or so hours from Portland, in some direction I don’t think exists. I tried to grasp Portland geography on the car ride, but ended up playing DJ instead. So the ride was spent blasting classic rock to punk to mashups. Imagine "Rock N' Roll" by Led Zeppelin as you drove on a road trip, just minus the Cadillac. Absolutely fantastic musical selection, if I do say so in my biased manner. Eventually, though, we arrived at the house just outside of Bend that we are staying at.

We’re going to spend the family reunion out here in Bend just relaxing, cooking, talking, and playing board games. It’s like I’m a child again, because that’s how my grandmother and I spent most of my childhood days. I’m spending a lot of time out here working on my two next big projects in life: my Europe Trip and my first novel. More on these in subsequent posts.

But for now, we relax. And reunion. And rock n' roll.

Another Thank You Note

2010-05-19T12:15:00.000-07:00

I can’t begin to thank you enough. All of you. I don’t even know where to start. How about with an anecdote? Yesterday as I walked along Bancroft Way and down to Shattuck, I wore my black cap and gown, my honors tassles, and my bright green sunglasses. And as I walked, random people I had never met and most likely will never meet again stared. Many said a solitary, simple word.

“Congratulations.”

Thank you, random people I had never met and most likely will never meet again. You are the embodiment of kindness, generosity, and why I’ve been able to keep going. You acknowledged what I’ve been able to achieve, and I don’t even know you.

How about another anecdote? Yesterday I delivered my graduation speech, a project of mine that developed over time. I worked very hard on that speech, and was very proud to have the opportunity to deliver it. To hear so many random people congratulating me on graduating was surreal. But hearing so many of my closest friends congratulating me not just on graduating but on finding strength when there was none meant something more. That was the essence of friendship.

And while friendship is not something that necessarily needs to be thanked, I can’t begin to thank you enough. All of you – my friends. You were always there, always listened to me and helped me, whether it was through text, email, phone, or in person. I’m scared because I don’t know what’s going to happen next in my life, or where I’m headed. But I know that I’ll always have you. And you will always have me.

How about one more anecdote? As I was walking out of my graduation yesterday, one of my favorite history professor was next to me. He told me how sorry he was to hear about my father’s passing. Then looked at the tassles around my gown, and the diploma (albeit fake) in my hand. And he smirked. “He’s so proud of you, knowing you’ve done this.” His comments were echoed by other faculty members, by other people in the history department when I was at the after-graduation reception. I can’t begin to thank you enough. All of you – my teachers, professors, and supports.

How about one more anecdote? Once we finished the speech and the reception at the department, my family went to lunch with my buddy Jesse and his family. Two families, sitting across the table from each other. Two families in Berkeley to celebrate their collective achievements. Jesse was the first person I ever met at Cal, so how appropriate that he and I celebrate our success together. But neither me nor Jesse, or any of my other friends that weren’t at that table with me, could have made it without our families.

And just like friendship, family is not something that necessarily needs to be thanked. But I can’t begin to thank you enough. But I will try, for my family, friends, teachers, professors, supporters, and the random people. You helped me through yesterday. Through this past week. Through these two months of hell. Through this past semester of thesis writing. And through eight semesters, and four years, of some of the greatest experiences in my life.

So, thank you.

Graduation

2010-05-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

Today I graduate college. And at Berkeley's History Commencement ceremony, I am the undergraduate speaker. Here is what I will say:

“Drive to Berkeley.” “La Quinta Reservation. “Calvin Graduation 9:30.” Appointments in Don Cohen’s planner. And primary sources of history. Many people are here today that wrote nearly identical items in their own books. But my father, Don Cohen, the author of the primary source book I quoted, is not here today. He passed away in March.

He was the one who introduced me to life. My father is gone, but he is as much a part of my life as ever before. My life history is as much his doing as it is my own. My understanding of history is as much his doing as it is the countless others throughout my academic career. From my family and my professors I have learned how history and life intertwine. And I know we all here have learned this in very similar ways.

We arrived at Berkeley years ago, and our comprehension of and appreciation for history grew. For me, Professor Litwak awakened me to stories I never knew. Professor Henkin showed me how to read texts, pictures, and surroundings collectively. And Professor Einhorn taught me to wax my thoughts onto paper, buff them down, and turn in a polished final version. These are some of the teachers in classrooms, the professors in auditoriums: a few of the many that taught us the skills to learn history through our books and through our lives. The tools to see history in our every step.

Tools like patience. The patience to sift through mountains of research, and read it all. Tools like energy. The energy to laboriously critique an author’s failure to cover a minor detail. Tools like confidence. The confidence to make a daring hypothesis within the time-span of only a three-hour final. And the patience, energy, and confidence to speak in every discussion, question professors, and attend 8 AM classes once in a while.

In the wake of his passing, I returned to my father’s home. I used my tools to reconstruct the history of us, together. The patience to wait for the tears to dry. The energy to sort through the mountains of memories. And the confidence to keep going and ignore the pain his absence caused. Our history was great, as great as the world’s. It was peaceful and serene while tumultuous and trying.

We accumulated a wealth of knowledge and love in my childhood. It was greater than all the Robber Barons stole from the Gilded Age. We fought Trench Warfare during my teenage years, firing machine guns of insults and hurling grenades of rebellion in our own rendition of World War I; and of my twenties that we did spend together, well those two years were a dazzling dance more vibrant than any flapper of the Roaring Twenties.

Each of us here has a great personal history, constructed using the tools our families and professors imbued within us. We have all played Hannibal, beating challenges to cross our respective Alps. We have all underestimated the odds against us, like Napoleon did in Russia. We have survived persecution for personal choices more perilous than those fleeing 17th century England. And the works we have created are grander than all Michelangelo’s paintings and sculptures.

My father’s history, and my history with him, concluded almost two months ago. With it came an end to all our historical allusions. But I see him watching from above. And he sees that today my history continues.

Today all our histories continue. We add snapshots, photographs, and films. Primary sources that we will examine, analyze, and archive with the abilities Berkeley has bestowed upon us. Our families will pose with our diplomas, caps and gowns, and smiles all around. This marks a completed chapter in each of our own personal monographs.

Tomorrow we start a new but terrifying chapter in the real world. But thanks to what Berkeley has taught us, we are not afraid, but ready. We have the patience to toil for hours with no end in sight. The energy to do everything life demands, and then some. And the confidence to make this daring hypothesis: we will make history.

I can’t wait to read about it in tomorrow’s textbooks.

Bay To Breakers

2010-05-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Bay to Breakers. Arguably one of the most fun things I’ve ever done. Fact. Words can’t describe how cool it was. So naturally, here it goes.

What is Bay to Breakers? At its core it’s a 12K run in San Francisco. It starts at the Embarcadero (the bay) and finishes at Ocean Beach (the breakers). But Bay to Breakers is so much more than that. The race itself starts at 8 a.m., and then the racers are immediately followed by hundreds of thousands of people walking the race. Dressed up in costume. Potentially very inebriated.

I can’t say that I’ve been a part of something so crazy and awesome. I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to get showered and ready. My friends Claire, Kate, and Mary all went dressed as flowers. Green shirts, tights, and skirts; flowers in hair; glitter everywhere. I went as grass. A plain white t-shirt somewhat green with my highlighter; a green and purple arm sleeve out of pipe cleaners (it looked like a garden gnome); green sunglasses and a green goatee. Our friend Calvin joined us (yes, two Calvins) dressed as Waldo. It was a veritable crew, to say the least.

On the BART ride in, a woman from Vancouver commented on how fantastic our outfits were, and how extravagant the entire experience seemed. She was headed to the airport, but very happy about her decision to fly out on the day of Bay to Breakers. We took a picture with her, and I hae to email that to her when I get a chance.

We started at the Embarcadero, but we didn’t make it all the way to the finish. I think we got to probably the fourth mile, around Golden Gate Park. There we took a break at the De Young Museum before heading back to the East Bay. Of my many realizations about how unreal Bay to Breakers was, one stood out: San Francisco is awesome.

I could definitely see myself living in San Francisco at some point in the future. Fact.

Tomorrow: Graduation.

Still Basking

2010-05-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

Right now I feel like John McCain. I can’t lift my arms above my shoulders, and can’t stop saying “my friends” in sentences. Okay, that last part isn’t true, but the first is. Why? Because I went to the gym last night, for the first time in probably a year and a half. Stosh, Nick and I went together, and I just did some of my old lifting and abs routine. And now I can’t lift my arms up.

So it’s harder to type, but going to the gym was fun again. As were some of the other things I got to do again today. The first of which was catch up on the Daily Show and the Colbert Report. I find it interesting how so many people get their news and information about what is going on in the world with those two sources. I learned about the progress being made on the New Orleans oil spill (not much), the new government in England (the first coalition government since the 1970s), and the Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan (she’s exactly like Harriet Myers except not dumb). More than I’ve learned all week just glossing over the New York Times.

Probably my favorite clip on the Daily Show in recent memory is his impression of Glenn Beck. Granted he does a lot of commentary on Glenn Beck, but his one on the “conservative libertarian ideology” is above and beyond the greatest. If you haven’t seen it before, I’d highly recommend checking it out because he does a great job of showing how bad the logic really is. “Slippery Slope Straw man dumb guy” is an excellent term.

This blog post really isn’t going anywhere fast. I honestly didn’t do that much on Wednesday, because I was still basking in the glory of winning trivia at Beckett’s and enjoying the fact that I’m finished with work as an undergraduate. The fact that I was just able to relax, watch television, cook dinner, and go to the gym is a new thing to me still. And I think it will take me a little while for the fact that I don’t have any more homework or assignments to turn in immediately to set in.

I’m going to end with a special shout out. Today is my older brother Kevin’s 40th birthday. And he doesn’t look a day over 30. He’s a really cool guy, one of another in a long and seemingly endless line of cool people in my family. To illustrate, what is he doing for his birthday? He’s going on a blimp ride. You can’t get much cooler than that, obviously.

Today is also a very important day in Cleveland basketball and the career of LeBron James. However that game plays out may dictate what I write about on Friday. I encourage everyone to watch that game.

Finally Done With Finals

2010-05-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

Seven semesters. I’ve taken seven semesters worth of finals, but I’ve taken eight semesters to graduate college. Fortunately this is my final semester and I’m lucky enough not to have to take any finals. But it’s so strange being back in Berkeley while other people are preparing and taking finals and considering the circumstances. In some cases people are wagering up to 50 percent of their grades on a single test, and are studying non-stop given the circumstances. Other people are only dealing with 20 or so percent, and on top of that only taking the class pass-not pass. But for some reason everyone is freaking out about the tests.

I was the exact same way when I took finals. For statistics last spring, I literally studied for a full week. Eight hours a day, at least. Maybe more. I don’t know; I’ve blocked out the memory because finals are awful. And I can’t wait for all of my friends here to be released from the horrible circumstances that are finals.

What’d I do in Berkeley not having finals to study for? Just because I don’t have finals doesn’t mean I’m non-existent. In fact, I have plenty of stuff to do. Enough stuff that it required me to draw up an entire “to-do” list. One of my favorite things “to-do” is to make “to-do” lists, because it makes me feel like I’m creating a purpose for myself. Whether or not that’s actually the case is hardly important.

After drawing up my “to-do” list, I spent the rest of the day working on that list. Boring, but appropriate for finals week. And when I finished enough of that list to last me one day, I started doing fun stuff.

First off, I went with a bunch of friends to Café Durant for taco happy hour and caught the Celtics-Cavaliers game. What on earth is wrong with the Cavaliers? LeBron James gave the most porous performance of his that I’ve seen in his young career, and the Celtics just steamrolled over him and the Cavs. But I don’t think it’s the end, and I’m pretty sure the Cavs will come back and win Game 6 to force a Game 7 back in Cleveland. However I’m also hoping for a Lakers-Celtics Finals rematch, so let’s hope I can eat my own words.

After that? My old roommate Stosh had finished his finals, and in essence completed his college experience (kind of like what I did when I turned in my Thesis on the April 30th), so we went out to celebrate for the evening. We started at Becketts for trivia night with Dorothy, Torey, and her friend Ivan. Our team name was "Why is Rory O'Brien Yelling At Us," because the announcer -- Rory O'Brien -- was yelling at us over the loudspeaker. And we WON! Our team was behind going into the last round by two points, but we swept the entire round and won by one point. ONE POINT! Sucks to be you, Team More Cushing for the Pushing. And after our victory, general college hijinks ensued to celebrate the end of an era.

I’m excited for finals to finish and release my friends to freedom. Then we can all celebrate the end of an era together.

Flight Plan Fail

2010-05-11T09:00:00.000-07:00

Complaining about airlines is becoming my new favorite pastime. My grandfather has been confronting me about my dislike of old people on flights. He and I haven’t had the pleasure of flying together (granted, we did have a chance to drive together back in August. It was epic). Anyway, I can assure everyone that my grandfather is an exception. He’s arguably one of the coolest grandfathers out there, not to mention one of the smartest. If you caught him and me on a plane together, you’d be blown away. At how cool of a flying experience you would have with him on board.

My flight up to Berkeley did not feature any problems with old people. And it did not feature any problems with babies. These are the two most common issues I have. On Monday I was confronted with the worst problem of all: delays. They’re the trump card of all flight woes because they are out of your control. Mechanical issues, weather conditions, or drunken pilots – it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault, but your plane isn’t going to take off for another 83 hours. And no, you can’t change to an earlier flight. Sorry!

When I got to the gate at LAX, I was horrified to find that my flight was delayed. By two hours. Let me explain how this happened. I hadn’t been on top of selecting my return flight to Berkeley because I didn’t know how much time I would need to recuperate back at home. So when it finally came time to book the flight, the costs were astronomical across the board. Granted a flight from LAX to OAK usually costs $50 (not including tax) if booked two weeks in advance. So the cheapest flights at such short notice were on Jet Blue or Virgin America.

Here is where I made my error. Jet Blue flies out of Long Beach, not LAX, to OAK. Virgin America flies out of LAX to SFO, not OAK. With nearly identical costs, I chose the more convenient option for getting to the airport. In making that decision, I sacrificed my ability to get from the airport because SFO is the worst airport ever. It’s like the old person of airports.

What’s the problem? Is it really that bad? Simply put, yes. Just look at the percentages. By approximation, I have flown into and out of OAK probably 15 times in my life. During that time span, one delay. I have flown into and out of SFO roughly 10 times in my life. During that time span, three delays. Now tell me all you people studying for the statistics final on Thursday, what’s the chance of getting a delayed flight at OAK compared to SFO?

7% to 30%

That’s absolutely absurd. The statistical probability of your flight being delayed is roughly four times greater if you’re going through SFO than through OAK (According to my flight history). How ridiculous is that?

There is a partial reason for that. Because of where SFO is located (a very strange part of the San Francisco Bay), weather conditions affect it far more adversely than similar conditions at OAK. The rain that hit SFO caused the airport to shut down to only one runway. OAK was safe, and if I had to put a price on the time the delay cost me, it probably would’ve been cheaper to fly Jet Blue into the airport on the East Bay.

Moral of the story: don’t fly into SFO or you’ll die. From eternally waiting for your delayed flight.

My Mom

2010-05-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

How coincidental that I’m following up my Friday blog post on my dad with a Monday blog post on my mom. Sunday was Mother’s Day. And if you didn’t realize it, you were probably so busy studying that your mother is proud of you and not at all bummed about your lack of calling.

My mother is awesome. No one is more kind-hearted, loving, and joking than her. But she’s not just a softy; she expects the best out of you. And isn’t afraid to give you crap when you aren’t giving your best. If you haven’t been fortunate enough to meet her, I full heartedly endorse trying to. And if that’s not a possibility, then I’ll do the best I can in subsequent posts to make you feel like you know how cool my mom truly is.

We spent Mother’s Day by going to church in the morning, and then working toward the only gift she wanted during the rest of the day: a clean garage. Originally the gift she wanted was just to be able to park her car back in the garage alongside my cousin’s project car. It was a pretty crazy goal to set, because our garage was literally littered with artifacts. But we got it done.

What’s more, we moved on to clean the backyard patio, the living room, and my room. All in one day. We moved in my new desk to start the renovation process in my room – it looks like I’m working out of a miniature office, with a little Godzilla toy and baseballs on my desk as fitting paperweights for a college graduate. And on top of that we got to cook dinner together, one of my favorite childhood experiences. The recipe? Pigs in a Blanket. No you ass, not hot dogs in crescent rolls. Real Pigs in a Blanket. Bacon and onions wrapped in steak. I’ll add the recipe at the end.

It’s so fortunate that we got all of this stuff done and renovated my room for me to enjoy it. Oh wait, I’m flying back to Berkeley today. That was awful timing. I guess it depends on your outlook. I’ll return home from graduating with a real (fake) diploma in hand, and have an organized, clean, and neat room to sleep in and work out of.

I’ll be spending this trip at Berkeley living up my last days as an undergraduate with my friends. But I’m excited to have my mom and the rest of my family up in Berkeley for my graduation in a week. For now, here’s how you make Pigs in a Blanket the right way.

Take round steak, bacon, and onions. Cut everything into thin strips. You’ll be doing a lot of rolling here. Layer a strip of round steak, a strip of bacon, some onion bits, and then another strip of bacon. Then you’ll roll all that up so you’ll have the pigs (bacon) wrapped in a blanket (of steak). To keep it all together, tie a piece of string around the steak. Heat up some olive oil and whatever seasoning you like – we used garlic – in a pan, and then brown the Pigs in Blankets on all sides. Once you’ve gotten all of your desired Pigs in their respective brown Blankets, add a little bit of water to the juices. Then bring the pan down to a simmer, cover, and cook for an hour or so. Arguably one of the best dishes you’ll ever eat.

You can thank my grandmother for that one. If my mother is awesome, just think how cool my grandmother is.

My Dad

2010-05-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

"But you're never gonna find it, when your knees got so weak
But it's right here, incase you need it
Like when you were young, and everybody used to call you Lucky."
- “Stay Lucky” by The Gaslight Anthem

For over a month I’ve been traveling uncharted waters. These waters were already treacherous; currents of graduation and the real world threatened to drown me. But on March 27th a new storm hit; my father’s sudden and unexpected passing took the wind out of my sails. I was left adrift at sea.

Music has gotten me through the toughest times. Middle school drama seemed to vanish when I heard “November Rain” by Guns N’ Roses. When my grandmother passed during freshman year of college, “Your Hand in Mine” by Explosions in the Sky was a way to dry away the tears. And of course as I adventured around places I was unfamiliar with this past year, “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus was always blasting through the speakers. I admit the music I attach myself to can be strange at times. But what’s not strange is the comfort I find in that song.

I first heard “Stay Lucky” by the Gaslight Anthem the day I finished my program in Washington, and I couldn’t have heard it at a better time. A friend of mine sent me a prerelease of their album American Slang (which is phenomenal), and I intend to buy the actual when it’s released in June. It was the end of my program, and the end of a long, extensive journey. I had worked from 9-6 four days a week, written the bulk of what was ultimately a 47-page thesis, and had flown cross-country twice.

There were times during the program when I didn’t think I would survive. It honestly felt like that most every day after March 27th. I hope I never have a more terrible flight than the one I took on March 28th back to Washington. But I knew my dad’s work ethic, and that he pushed through pain and troubles to accomplish so much in his own life. He would have wanted me to keep going.

As I sat at Dulles Airport at 6 a.m. waiting for my flight, I was in slight hysterics. I only slept two hours the night before, watching Star Wars and spending my last night with Paul, Ross, and Zack. But when I turned on my iPod and listened to “Stay Lucky,” I cried. Not just because of the combination of beautiful guitar melodies and Brian Fallon’s soothing voice. Not because I was tired, although that probably helped. I cried because I made it through that storm.

“Stay Lucky” played the role that so many of those other songs have played for me before. Coincidentally, the lyrics were fitting. To me, the chorus lyrics urged me to go on and stop looking. My father isn’t going to return in a physical form, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still around. He’s just as present in my life, my mind, and my heart as he was before March 27th. He’s still following my blog, for instance.

At the memorial service for my father I spoke to the journeys that we went on together in recent years. I didn’t breakdown while talking, and a couple people asked me how hard it was to get up there and say things. Truth is, I have been thinking, saying, and remembering my father every day since his passing. I have told many friends who never had the pleasure of knowing my dad more than an earful about his life and our relationship. In talking about him, I have eased the pain. It was through this process I was able to speak at the service, and have been able to carry on.

There is still unfinished business on my voyage. Graduation is still scheduled for May 18th, and the big question of what happens next is yet to be answered. But I’ve battled what I view as the greatest challenge of my life thus far. Had to stay lucky to survive it, I suppose.

Awful Fashion Tips

2010-05-06T09:00:00.000-07:00

Gimmick T-shirts have never been my thing. I feel bad because that’s what a lot of people will buy you for your birthday, and I’m no exception. For me it just irked me when someone would have to stare at my body to try and figure out what was going on. I personally like to look at the person’s face when I’m talking to them. The only type of writing I used to be comfortable with on my tees were band names and sports teams. That was during the whole high school teenage rebellion years.

Today I’m very much into the gimmick t-shirt. Take the cornerstone of my wardrobe, the Wednesday outfit. I live to wear a pair of jeans, converse, and my yellow “TGIW” t-shirt. You can thank Married to the Sea, a daily comic that appropriates cartoons as far back as original historical records and adds witty, esoteric, oftentimes ridiculous captions. Thank God It’s Wednesday is just one of the many good comics from that website, but it was the most appropriate of those to buy for t-shirts. My friend Jesse happened to get this design.

Why the change of heart? Honestly, as I stated before, I believe it was those angsty teenage years. Parents would wear shirts that said ridiculous things on them, or they’d buy similar ones for you to wear. One of my father’s favorites was one that read “God said” and then contained a ton of mathematical equations, and then ended with “and there was light.” Appropriate, given his profession, but not that appropriate for a teenager. Now though? Totally appropriate. I am comfortable wearing gimmick shirts, insofar as they can somewhat match the general outfit.

Since I’ve really sworn off gimmick t-shirts over the past few years, and just recently changed my opinion to where I’m okay to wear (pun!) them, I don’t have that many in my dresser. There are a few, like one that says “Sarcasm Society: Like we need your support” and another with a dial that says “1-11” So as I go rummaging through my stuff these next few days to clean up my room and put my life back in order, hopefully I’ll come across more. And if not, I’ll get a final tally on how many more gimmick shirts I want.

Outstanding. I’ve successfully written over 400 words about a singular type of t-shirt. I knew today was going to be awesome.

The State of Los Angeles Sports

2010-05-05T09:00:00.000-07:00

I need to take a break from reflecting and thinking about life. So it’s time to consider the state of Los Angeles sports.

Let’s get the garbage out of the way. I haven’t really watched an entire game of Major League Baseball this year. Scratch that. I watched probably two full games, in that Mets v. Cardinals game back in April that went for 20 innings! Aside from that, I haven’t watched any games. All I have seen has come from the newspapers and hearsay, but from what I gather the Dodgers are awful. In fact the NL West is a complete conundrum. The Padres were leading the division last I checked, and the Diamondbacks and Dodgers were both at the bottom. Meanwhile Ubaldo Jimenez threw the first no-hitter for the Rockies ever. And they’re only in the middle of the division. Baseball is stupid so far.

The Kings lost in the NHL playoffs. Just when I was starting to get interested. Now I don’t care about hockey, again.

What I do care about is basketball. The NBA playoffs. Because the rest of the season is not interesting, at all. And the Lakers, having won 15 championships, are always primed to do great things. But they came into this playoffs with a pretty shaky record.

Sure they had the best record in the West. But they preyed on bottom-of-the-barrel teams, and failed at beating a lot of the best, elite teams during the season. So I had my worries in the playoffs. And during that entire first round against Oklahoma City, they didn’t fare too well. The trend of smaller, “shifty” point guards burning the Lakers continued. From Rajon Rondo to Aaron Brooks to Russell Westbrook, it’s been a pretty tough time for them. But eventually they shut them down. Unfortunately I didn’t get to watch. I was working on my thesis the first evening, and a tribute video the second. But like baseball, I read about it.

After defeating the Thunder in Round One, the Lakers advanced to face the Utah Jazz. If you’ve noticed their jerseys, you’ll see that the “UTAH” logo on the front is clearly made in Word Art. Seems like a JV operation to me. Anyway, the Lakers are performing in the series about how they performed in the regular season. Playing pretty well in games, but not putting their opponents away until the final seconds. The Lakers won both games, but they didn’t do it in style. I’m hoping that they can do better in their coming matches.

I sincerely apologize. That post was obnoxiously lackluster. I am still reflecting on my life, and was honestly more interested in the three dogs at my friend’s house where I was watching the game than the game itself. If the Lakers can win one of these next two games on the road, then things might start looking up for the state of Los Angeles sports.

If they don't, there are still three dogs at my friend's house to watch the games with.

A Crowning Achievement

2010-05-04T09:00:00.000-07:00

This week at home is a time for me to reflect. It’s a time for me to reflect on what I’ve accomplished during the past four years at Berkeley and during the past twenty-two years of my life. And honestly, all twenty-two years of my life counted. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t learned to walk back in the day. Every year counts!

In more recent memory – try less than a week ago memory – I completed one of my crowning academic achievements: my history thesis. I was only enrolled in coursework for my thesis for a semester, but had been planning the concept behind it for over a year, in Professor Einhorn’s seminar. I came into that 103 seminar in Spring 2009, entitled “the History of Taxes,” thinking to myself “why should I care about taxes?” And I left thinking “wow, taxes are pretty cool, and I’ve just come up with a thesis topic that doesn’t really relate to taxes that much.”

Last November, I posted about my original premise for the thesis, which you can find in detail here. To summarize, my thesis centered about the question of presidential power, and looked at the role of the president during America’s Gilded Age (1865-1900). I aimed to evaluate two separate interpretations, one by Woodrow Wilson and the other by Theodore Bensel, to see if the president was weak during this period or if he was strong and calculated. And I looked to use a singular presidential figure to conduct this evaluation, in Grover Cleveland.

Did my thesis stay true to this? No. The final product used these two interpretations, as well as various others on presidential power, as guideposts along the way. I examined specific policies of Grover Cleveland, the only Democratic president of the time period, and various issues that his administrations confronted. Throughout his administrations, I noticed a singular trend in his ability to succeed or fail in controlling policy implementation: his political party. Grover Cleveland was only strong as a president when he was strong as a party leader. Here’s a more eloquent way to state what I just arrived at, taken from my thesis’s conclusion.

Two of the greatest presidents in American history fall just before and after the Gilded Age: Abraham Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt. Both had extraordinary personalities, led the presidency with authority and effectiveness, and left an everlasting impact on American society. In between them lie seven presidents that are far less memorable, often ranked in the middle-to-bottom of public surveys on the history of presidential leadership. Perhaps it was an inability to set as powerful an agenda as Lincoln’s that rendered them unmemorable. Or maybe they lacked charisma and substance, and fall into the shadow of Roosevelt. A case study of the Cleveland administration provides a different explanation. Presidents are forgotten during the Gilded Age because their power waxed and waned in relationship with their party’s strength. In this way, the Gilded Age was an era of intense partisanship. It was a time period in which presidents were inseparable from the political parties to which they belonged.

The totals for my thesis included six sections, 47 pages, 48 bibliographic entries, 146 footnotes, and 12,283 words. I will be posting my thesis for download once I hear back from my professor. But if you are in desperate need for some “light” reading, contact me and I can send you an advance copy.