Friday Date

Friday was Sara's Birthday. To celebrate we went to visit some old woman.

We got to see all sides of her.

We also saw a nautical replica of one of our dogs.

There were some spooky moments.

Some close moments.

Some strange encounters.

And some very intimate views.




We also popped over to the place where some of our ancestors passed through.




And we looked back on where we had been.














And what would a visit and photo show be without a bird picture for Scott?

Simple Things that Still Leave me in Awe

Fireflies!

AKA - lightning bugs, glow worms, luciérnaga, lucciola, eldfluga, Leuchtkäfer

Amazingly there are some in our corner of New York City.

I had to take Sara out to see them.

She enjoyed them too as they don't have them in New Mexico.

Nature's firework show.

Why It isn't so Good to Live in NYC: Reason #381

Our lease is up for renewal and they are raising our rent by 10%.

Is my paycheck going up 10%?

I wish.

Censorship?

I guess Blogger didn't like my nudie pictures of bikers.

I will leave it up to your imagination then.

Yet Another Entry in the Bad Idea Book

Recently in Spain they had some kind of protest bicycle ride.

Their choice of attire - or rather lack of it - just doesn't seem like the smartest way to go.

Painful?


Um, yeah.

Especially when this happens:



I wonder if you need a special seat or something...

I would definitely think you would need to clean it off after a long ride.

I hope this isn't a fad that catches on.

Mall Chaos: The Holy Temple of Postmodernist Consumption

I take my students to one of the most obscene malls ever created for many of my classes. Anthropologically, it is a fascinating place. From a humanist perspective, however, it is tragic.

Request

I am going to be attending the Puerto Rican Day Parade on Sunday.

If any of you have any tips about a good place to go, something to see, or how to survive, please let me know.

Added Traffic Irritation

The other day as I was stuck in traffic trying to cross the George Washington Bridge, the sticker on the bumper of the Toyota Highlander Hybrid in front of me chastised me:

If you care about the environment, why aren't you driving a hybrid?

Now, I do care about the environment and I think people in general should care about how we are harming our little planet (ultimately, though, the planet will be fine, it is us humans who will lose out), but I don't like being preached at by ignorant and arrogant individuals speaking though their rear (bumpers).

Let me offer my rebuttal:

• My car, while not a hybrid, gets 35 mph on average while I commute to and from work.
• Your SUV hybrid officially gets 31 mph on the highway (we all know those numbers are elevated and from what I have read, it is closer to 24 mph). So who is doing more damage?
  
• You hybrid has a nickel based battery that when you decide to junk it, will also hurt the environment.
• I would in fact have bought a hybrid if they were more affordable and even available when I was buying a car. Unfortunately, most of us can't afford they hybrids that are available now.
• Last, if you cared about the environment so much, you would not be driving at all. Rather, you would be driving a hybrid with better mileage, in a bio-diesel, in a compact fuel-efficient car, or even better yet, on a bus or on a bike.

So please, peel that bumper sticker off and stop thinking you are more environmentally friendly than I am just because you are appeasing your conscience by thinking it is ok to drive an SUV if it is a hybrid.

Negative Energies


There seems to be bad luck and fortunes flowing through the X household these days. We have had computer troubles (see below), internet connection failures, and today the discovery that my debit card was used fraudulently.

The good thing is that the charges were made today and I checked the account this evening (my obsessive vigilance pays off for once). It still is going to involve some bureaucratic effort and maybe some creative transferring of funds to make sure our checks clear before all is said and done.

All I want is a stretch of time without technical failures, being scammed, victimized, or other stressful events. Is that too much to ask?

Of course, these trouble seem trivial as I read Ishmael Beah's book, A Long Way Gone, with one of my classes this summer. It does put everything in perspective. More on the book later, when I am not worrying about the little money we do have in the bank disappearing, my computer crashing, or the sky falling on me.

By the way, if you are curious, the above image is a Huichol yarn painting design from Mexico. The scorpions are there to repel bad luck and evil spirits. I hope they work. They have their work cut out for them.

Of Macs and Men

The ongoing ad campaign by Apple makes it seem like Macs are the perfect machines. Not only are they without flaw, but they make you hip.

Recently I have found them to be even more annoying because they are a reminder of my battle to get my new computer to work. Perhaps I feel like it is a bit of false advertising.

My first computer ever was a boxy Mac. While I occasionally got the dreaded bomb:



Overall it was a pretty good computer.

I just returned to Mac after a decade or so of fussing with PCs and the mess that is Microsoft. And while I do like my new cyberenvironment, I have been dealing with the 21st century equivalent of the on-screen bomb.

My applications crash and eventually I get the equivalent of Mac-pass-out: the screen goes gray and my computer tells me in multiple languages that it needs to be restarted. This leaves me feeling:

I have called Apple Care and been to the Apple Store's "Genius Bar" [where by the way, I did not see any anorexic know-it-all women like they show on tv, rather it was the expected pudgy, nerdy computer geeks]. The result has been having to reinstall the operating system and re-formating the hard drive. Both entailed a long process of putting all my applications, music, and files back on the computer.

Tonight as I was working on my lectures for tomorrow, the X-Machine started failing again. During this whole process, I have learned a lot about the techie things regarding the iMac. I have gone through the procedure, but there is still a hardware problem with my hard drive.

So I guess I will find myself on the phone with Apple Care again and probably making a visit to the Apple Store to see if the geniuses at the bar can fix this thing once and for all.

I must say this, it is nice getting a helpful (more or less) person who is fluent in English on the line when I call Apple Care. My tech support experiences in the past leave much to be desired. In the end, despite the problems I will refrain from tossing my apple in the bin.


I just hope that my troubles are soon over. All I want is a computer I can work (and play, of course) on. Is that too much to ask?

Unfortunately, I think my Apple is really a Lemon.

I Knew There would be Better Days

My mood has improved.

A nice afternoon with Sara yesterday did quite a lot to help out.

We went to Times Square and saw Paprika. A fun, albeit surreal, Japanese animation film. To keep with the theme, we had dinner at Yoshinoya, a Japanese fast food chain. We then wandered about Times Square, a surreal experience in itself. There were the usual masses of tourists and boatloads of sailors and marines who were in town for Fleet Week.

On our way home, we stopped in the Upper West Side where we got some green tea Yolato with mochi bits. We ate it on a park bench on the median on Broadway next to a woman having an argument with an invisible person. Every so often we got shaken a bit by the subway running directly beneath us. As strange as it may sound, it was quite pleasant - it must have been the company.

We came home to some disgruntled dogs. They are not liking the heat. I need to put the a/c unit in the window, but I have to get an extension cord. Our apartment is woefully lacking in outlets. Rather the outlets are placed in the most inconvenient places. There are several in closets, and there are four directly above out stove.

Because I am too tired to write anything else, I leave you with a picture. A while back I posted a picture of the view from my home office in winter. Now you get my work office in Spring. I wanted to put it up a while ago, but things have been a bit chaotic. Enjoy:

Foul Mood

I am a bit cranky today.

Teaching summer school is pretty exhausting. Two three hour classes, back to back. Three straight days.

I was looking forward to my down day today, but little problems popped up here and there just to be annoying. Our internet connection was going in and out sporadically starting last night. Around noon time today, it was pretty much out.

Calling to report it proved to be a challenge in itself.

You see, we have VOIP phone service, so no internet means no phone. Moreover, we seem to live in the one corner of NY that doesn't get cell phone reception. There is one corner of our apartment that gets a tiny signal. Of course that is the corner where we keep many of our cacti. So there I was trying to dance around so as to keep the connection from crashing and avoiding the ever so sharp and pesky spines from our lovely cacti.

When I called, I spent a good twenty minutes going through the condescending recorded instructions of what to do (which I had already done). When I finally got through to someone, we went through the same routine and then finally getting them to send someone out. Of course, the connections is working now and it will probably work when the person comes to check it. And once she/he is gone, it will crap out again.

Amid this crisis, Sara needed to complete an application for which she needed to get information from online. When she finally got it put together as best as she could, she asked me to mail it for her. The post office is about seven blocks away. I got there at 5:05; it closed at 5:00. They told me to go to the other one which was about ten blocks away because it might be open later (I could have looked this up had I had internet connection). I got to the other post office only to find out that it too was closed.

Here I am living in what supposedly is the city that never sleeps, but the post offices close earlier than even the small isolated town I lived in in Eastern Washington State.

Add to this adventure that it was hot today. Really hot.

So yes, I am a wee-bit cranky.

Back to the Grind

Today was the first day of summer school. I am definitely not ready to go back to teaching. The last semester really took its toll. Summer classes are also a challenge because so much material needs to be crammed into one day.

The two classes I am teaching are courses I have already taught, but of course I changed things around so I still need to work on lectures (rather than used ones I already wrote).

Despite the burn out, I did get some inspiration today. First, I read my evaluations from the spring semester and they were all fairly good. Usually there is one or two disgruntled students that write some hateful or nasty comments (and of course I obsess about those, rather than be pleased by all the positive ones), but this time the worst was a couple of ambivalent students. My first thought was the mean students must have missed class the day evaluations were handed out.

Ah insecurities.

But to reinforce the positive evaluations, I got another smile-inducing email this evening:

Hi Professor X,

I just wanted to drop a line and let you know that I really enjoyed your class this past semester. I felt as though there was a lot we were able to learn about, despite the limited amount of time for the topics we went over. I hope that the painfully boring nature of the students didn't dissuade you at all from teaching the class again! I know that we can be a drag late at night, but it doesn't mean that we weren't listening. : )

Keep up the good work and enjoy your summer,

[Student Name]

Party is over, I need to get back to my lectures for tomorrow.

Visual New York: Grading by the Hudson with the Dogs


On a beautiful spring day, I could not stand being locked inside with my professorial duties.


















As I sit with my bundle of student research papers, one dog is actively looking at the comings and goings of the occasional passer-by, ship on the river, and the scurrying wildlife.

Meanwhile the other dog has not a care in the world.

It is nice being retired.

I am not sure the term "It's a dog's life" is all that accurate.

Visual New York: Coney Island

Astroland
(soon to be shut down)

Dante's Inferno: Did not go in.
The outside was scary enough!

Lunch: Americana Classic
[Look carefully under Seafood
- click on image to get a better view -
you can get frog legs at this Nathan's]

One last shot for Scott: The Birds of Coney Island Beach

Saturday Routine

I wake up, start the coffee, feed the dogs, get some cereal.

I get the paper, plant myself down with food, coffee, and take in the recent happenings around the world. The dogs come over and need to be praised for finishing their breakfast.

After some random putzing around, walking the dogs (brief), and showering, Sara and I drive up to a public garden and cultural center in the Bronx where we take a tai chi class.

We are improving.

Following the class we get some tea there and sit out on the terrace taking in the blooming gardens overlooking the Hudson.

Last week we actually ran into someone who we went to graduate school with and had not seen for a couple of years. He joined us for tea.

After tea we get some lunch somewhere in the area. Japanese tends to be the usual bet. Occasionally we deviate from the type of cuisine or where we get out food. Today was such a day. We drove across the Hudson to Fort Lee, NJ to get some Korean food. Northeastern New Jersey has a high concentration of Koreans - I am not sure why. That is good for us because we really like Korean food.

Lunch is good and even academically interesting. I find it interesting to see Latin Americans working in "ethnic" restaurants as cooks, busboys, and dishwashers. Our busboy is from Guatemala. There is probably a research project waiting for me.

Following lunch we stop by the neighboring large nationwide bookstore chain. I buy some music to help with the grading. While in there we decide to partake of some coffee. Our beverages come with an unscheduled and improvised show.

The employees are training a new addition. At a certain point, one of the employees, Svetlana, goes around the counter and plays the role of a customer while the other, Maria, takes the order so the newbie, Greg, can see the process. The following exchange ensues:

Maria: Hello, how may I help you?
Svetlana: Let's see, what do I want?.......Hmmmm.......
[Long pause]
[Maria eagerly sways front to back flashing a pseudo-perma-grin]
Svetlana: Do you have coffee?
Maria: Yes, we have all different kinds of coffee...
Svetlana: Is it brewed fresh? Do you make it yourself?
Maria: Yes. We make it fresh from organic fair-trade beans.
Svetlana: Do you have venti?
Maria: I am sorry. We don't serve venti here. You can get a small, medium, or large.
Svetlana: A large? What is that? Is that smaller than a small? How much is that?
[Greg looks terribly confused, doubting whether he really wants to work there]
Svetlana [interrupting Maria's response]: Never mind...do you have Italian sodas?
Maria [eagerly]: Yes we do! What flavor would you like?
Svetlana: Barbecue!!!!
Maria [cracking a cynical smile and giggle]: I am sorry, we don't have that flavor, can I suggest raspberry.

This goes on for several more minutes. It is quite entertaining seeing the employees vent their frustrations built up from dealing with a plethora of inane and pushy customers. I highly doubt that Greg will be back tomorrow.

After the bookstore we return to our abode for a quiet afternoon where I avoid grading, the dogs chase the pair of flies that have entered our apartment (illegally of course), and generally I get very little done.

Tomorrow should be a more interesting day, for we may head out to Coney Island. Neither of us has ever been, but we want to go before they tear it all down and build an uber-commercial space there. Perhaps I will have stories and maybe even photographs.

The Other Side

Following the nice message from my former student, I got a different perspective on students in my in-box.

The exam for one of my courses was scheduled for 6-8 pm last night, which was the last day of finals. It turns out that the students were kicked out of their dorms at 5 pm yesterday. Given the situation, some of my students asked if they could take the exam early. I agreed to give the exam twice; I indicated that the exams would be different.

Nonetheless I got this in an email:

Attention anyone who took the Final last week. Give me a heads up.
What's on it. Come on help ur boy out. HELP!!!!

This brilliant student sent out the email to the class list, not even thinking that I am on that list. So much for academic integrity. He probably has a bright future working for Karl Rove.

It goes to show that students come in all flavors.

Friendly Reminder

As I toil away grading papers (and complain much too much along the way), it is nice to hear back from students who put it all into perspective.

I got this email today:

Dear Professor X,

I hope you remember me from our Immigration Seminar last Spring. I have been thinking about what a positive experience I had in your class and meaning to get in touch for a while.

Since August, I have been working as an AmeriCorps member in the legal department at [non-profit agency]. I've learned a ton about immigration law and am hoping to eventually go to law school and start a career in this field. I am especially
interested in asylum cases for which speaking French has come in handy as many of our asylum seekers come from Francophone Africa and Haiti. Next on my agenda is learning Spanish although my AmeriCorps salary makes courses pretty tough to afford!

I wanted to let you know what I was up to because it is partly thanks to your course that I decided to pursue my interest in immigration and for that I am hugely grateful!

I hope that all is well with you.

Best wishes,

[Former Student]

I will smile for a while and then get back to my grading (and complaining).

Car Wash



Call it national pride, but given my experience with car washers from various countries I can say that Mexicans are the best at it. Maybe it isn't something to be too proud of. One thing I can say for sure, the Dominicans in my neighborhood are not all that good at it.

It is also funny how much extra attention your car gets once you speak in Spanish and then even more when you give them a nice tip. I had the guy chase me down and give the car an extra wipe as I was leaving once he saw what was in the bundle I handed to him. Even then, I had to spend sometime making up for their shortcomings.

If this anthropologist/professor gig doesn't work out for me, I always have a backup plan.

New Toy

So there is the new gimmick - Twitter.

I am trying it out.

My first impression?

Blogging for those with ADD.

Under further consideration, it seems to me like we are doing the job for Big Brother. Rather than watching us, we just tell him (her?) what the heck we are doing. Passive surveillance...

We'll see how it goes. I think I have become a cranky old man ... in the same amount of time that the landscape has gone from bare to lush around here.

Spring is Plaguing Me

I sit, needing to grade, but unable to focus. Piles and piles of printed essays scorn and taunt me, but my mind refuses to listen. My conscience does a little dance trying to get my attention, but I am lost.

Tomorrow. Will I find my way then? Will the grading be done? Will I care?

And outside the warmth beckons with the sunny siren song; the greenery erupting in the reaching arms of the trees whispering soothingly through the breeze. Thoughts flutter and ideas bounce close and then fade into the recesses of my mind.

The blooming hillsides distract me; they draw me from my path of productivity.

All remains undone.

The light at the end of the tunnel...


The semester is almost over. I have stacks upon stacks of grading to do before all is said and done.

Then it's back to square one - summer school.

At least spring is here.

Guttenberg's Tech Support

This is for all of you who have tried to assist others with new technology.



I hope that keeps you entertained as I trim the moss growing on my feet from all the rain and I stay up at night wondering if any of my students will decide it is time to make the world uglier.

Word of the Day:

Paraskevidekatriaphobia

Hope you made it through...

So it goes.

Doggie Update

I saw the blind woman and her dog again. This time I was sans dogs and thus more able to focus my anthropological eye on their actions.

After observing the dog sniff, tug, and basically not lead the woman anywhere, my conclusion confirms a hypothesis Sara had shared with me earlier: it is not an eye-seeing guide dog, but rather a blind woman with a dog.

As to Zephyr, she sustained some nicks and scratches during the squirrel incident. She really is not a tough dog. However, she now thinks she is a tough dog. The evidence? Dogs that want to mark their presence somewhere often scratch the ground with their hind legs after urinating or defecating. Zeus does it all the time, but Zephyr has never done it. Until yesterday.

I guess that squirrel was a right of passage of some sort.

One last thing. Heliosphan mentioned that she wondered what her dog was dreaming about. I am waiting for Steve Jobs and his pals at Apple to come up with iDog dream visualizer. Now that would be one gadget I would certainly buy.

A Dog's Life

Since I have no life, I have to resort to writing about the dogs' adventures. And today was quite an eventful day for them.

We went for a long walk and visited one of the local dog runs. There they got harassed a bit by an overly exuberant Lab puppy. Zephyr was very adept at communicating through her body language that she was not going to stand for any funny business. Zeus had a more difficult time. He could not decide whether he wanted to play or be annoyed. Of course this indecision just encouraged the teasing by the Lab.

As we left, we were walking through the park and we spotted a squirrel. If we are far from a street and there aren't a lot of people around. I will let Zeus go and let him pursue the squirrel. He starts off slow, stalking the prey. He then picks up his pace as he nears the target or if the critter makes a break for it. Usually the squirrel runs up a tree and Zeus is left looking eagerly up into the branches. Meanwhile Zephyr and I run behind catching up with Zeus at the base of the tree.

Today, however, the squirrel ran past a perfectly good tree to climb up. Big mistake. What happened next took place in what seemed like slow motion. Zeus caught up with the squirrel and manged to latch on to its tail. He jerked at it and flung it up into the air where it rotated head over tail. Then as it was coming down, Zephyr lunged out of nowhere and caught it by its back legs. She then flung it to the side. Zeus was about to get it when I managed to step on his leash, stopping his progress. The limping squirrel was then able to escape to the safety of a tree.

I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed or concerned. I felt bad for the squirrel. As much as I despise them, especially when they have tortured Zeus or when they were living in our attic, it still pained me to see it injured. I also felt like the whole world was looking at me and judging my vicious dogs that go around killing wild life. But then a little part of me was proud: my dogs got a squirrel!

Zeus and Zephyr were visibly proud of their accomplishment. It almost seemed like they knew that they had worked as a team and if it had not been for some unfortunate external intervention that squirrel would have been toast (or at least a snack).

Our adventures did not end there. Almost back to our apartment, we were about to pass a woman with a big black dog, some kind of lab mix. The dog spotted us and began to tug. He got away and began to sniff Zephyr while the woman yelled at it to stop. In these situations, I let Zephyr handle the social encounter and place myself between Zeus and the dog. Zeus does not do well in these situations, while Zephyr is quite used to social interaction. However, even Zephyr felt this dog was getting a bit too friendly and began to snap at it. Zeus tried to come to her rescue, but I managed to keep my body between him and the dog. In contrast to the squirrel experience, this one seemed to be happening in quick mode. At a certain point, I hear the woman yell, "Sir, can you help me? It is a seeing eye dog and I am blind!" I look up and I see the woman meandering around. I managed to reach down and grab the dog's leash. At this point all the canine parties calmed down. It was a bit bizarre, but I was in charge. I took the dog over to the woman and placed the leash in her hand. I asked her if she needed help or wanted me to walk them somewhere. She declined.

I am not sure what kind of seeing eye dog that was, but it certainly seemed like one that dropped out of training school. It certainly did not obey any of the commands and it actually could have put that woman in danger.

So that was our day. The dogs then got to nap the rest of the afternoon while I went grocery shopping, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, and made a Spanish tortilla.

At one point, Sara caught Zephyr twitching in her sleep and wondered whether she was dreaming about the squirrel. She probably was, she probably was...

What I Learned Today (or didn't)...

Sara and I went to the American Museum of Natural History today. There were some things I liked and others which were disappointing. The hardest part was negotiating the halls that were teeming with screeching children and MadMax-like strollers driven by parents that seemed to be on the brink of a psychotic break.

The subway rides there and back proved to be equally interesting. On the way there we were surrounded by a woman who seemed to be quite young (late teens, maybe early twenties) leading a gaggle of young children: five in total. The oldest being a girl with dark curly hair, maybe six. Then a boy, perhaps five; another girl three or four; and then two children in separate strollers. All the children had olive color skin and dark hair, except the youngest boy in one of the strollers. He was the standard for nordic-looking. I am not sure what the story there was, but the woman also looked like she was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.


On the ride back, things were uneventful until a young African American male, wearing headphones and carrying a mini iPod, came marching down the car. As he came closer to us, I saw from my peripheral vision that he was leering at me. He stopped just past me and he began to hurl insults aimed at me, but disguised as though he were singing rap lyrics that were playing on his iPod.

At the next stop, he stepped on and off the train, continuing to throw insults around. At the very end, he wished all us "white devils" a good day.
I wondered why he acted that way. What was his reason for provocation? Boredom? Frustration? Real anger? I will never know.

Then I thought, am I a white devil?

No, dumbass, I am a Mexican devil. Or perhaps a Mexican-American devil. Or maybe I am...

Next time we go to the Natural History museum, I will have to look for the white devil case and diorama.

A week later...

...and I am too swamped to write anything.

The Secret Lives of Dogs (or what the bus company doesn't want you to know)

You know the picture of a greyhound on the side of a bus? You know, this one:


Most people are led to believe that the greyhound is running. This would make you think that the bus company will get you to your destination quickly.

The truth of the matter is that as an owner of a greyhound I know what the real scoop is. That dog is not running. It is passed out on its side too lazy to move.

Here is proof:





I don't know what this means for the bus company (maybe I will be sued), but the truth had to be told.

[This idea was actually Sara's, but I got the pictures first and she is too "boring" to post them]

Which one is Real?



This picture of Zephyr reminds me of the scene in ET where the critter is hiding in the closet with all the stuffed animals.

Of course Zephyr was not really hiding from anyone. She is just so lazy that when I started piling the toys on her, she refused to move. She is also cuter (although equally strange looking) than the space creature.

Here is a picture from that scene for comparison sake:





That's about all I have to say. Spring Break is over and it is back to the madness of juggling four courses, research, writing, dogs, and life.

At least I got my taxes done, saw my psychiatrist, got thrown off a subway during a snow/sleet/ice storm (because the subway stopped running, not for any improper behavior on my part), and took some long walks with the dogs.

Feuding Deities?

Sara and I were riding the subway to midtown Manhattan the other day. To pass the time, rather than anthropologically observing the people riding with us as I usually do, I was looking out the window into the dimly lit maze of tunnels.

I have the secret hope that I will sometime catch a glimpse of the "mole people" that make their home there. So far I haven't.

There is evidence of activity all along the tunnels, though. It is mostly in the form of graffiti. Some of it is related to the transit workers marking switches, outlets, and the sort. Other marks is just the work of random "taggers".

My second hope is that I will catch a glimpse of some wonderful artistic masterpiece that is hidden in the depths of New York's catacombs. That hasn't happened either.

What I did come across that day, however, was a clearly written statement meant to disparage a Norse deity:

THOR SUCKS!

Since then, I have been wondering who the heck wrote it and what it means. My mind has been playing images of a scene out of something like Neil Gaiman's American Gods where a disgruntled Aztec deity (perhaps my friend Xolotl) is marginalized to the subway tunnels of New York City and has it in for Thor.

Who knows? It's as good as an explanation as any....

Strange and Awkward

No better way to define the day today.

The morning was warm, almost muggy. Yet tomorrow they say snow: three to six inches.

I had a conference call as part of an anthropologist committee I am on. Having people pop in on an ongoing conversation is a bit strange. With all the issues going on with people in the gov't listening to conversations they aren't supposed to, it has made me a little paranoid I guess.

I went to a lecture by one of the leading anthropologists who studies homeless people. It was a smallish group. Who happens to walk in? My psychiatrist with whom I have an appointment tomorrow morning.

By the way, I will throw a set of questions out there for anyone who wishes to answer it (they came up during the lecture today):

When did you first learn about homelessness? Who explained it to you? And how was it explained to you?

Ever since the last post, the Pink Floyd song has been running through my head. Especially that last line: Come on you miner of truth and delusion, Shine! I guess that is the most concise description I have come across for what it is that anthropologists do.

Time for bed.

Shine On

I spent the better part of yesterday and a good chunk of today doing taxes.

Someone does not like me. In 2006 I worked in three different states (MA, RI, and NJ) and I resided in two (MA and NY). Adding it all up, it means that I filed 6 sets of taxes: 1 Federal, 4 State, and 1 City.

And each state has its own convoluted way of figuring out its taxes.

Last year I thought I was so cool because the previous year I worked in WA that doesn't have state income tax. I am paying for it now - in more ways than you can imagine.

Meanwhile, Zephyr is the image of tranquility: she is passed out, stretched out on her pillow, her mouth slightly open, while Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond chills the air. How apropos!

Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Pile on many more layers and I'll be joining you there.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
And we'll bask in the shadow of yesterday's triumph, and sail on the steel breeze.
Come on you boy child, you winner and loser,
come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine!

Rats!

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

- Smashing Pumpkins,
"Bullet With Butterfly Wings"

My lovely day of being screamed at in Chinese and attacked by giant wild turkeys ended with my new computer's operating system dying.

I called Apple's tech help line and got pressured to purchase the extended help plan before I was given any real help. I would have probably purchased it anyway, but I did not like them preying on the panic one has when there is a computer crash.

As I suspected I had to reinstall the operating system, losing everything that was saved on the computer. While I had not backed anything up officially, since the computer was new there was not much new on it. Most of my files for teaching are also on my computer at work (I email them to myself there). A few pictures are gone and some music, I think. Everything else is still on the old clunker, so I just had to transfer everything over again. Not a good way to spend a weekend, but it could have been worse.

One annoyance is the fact that you cannot upload your music from your iPod back to the computer it is synced with. Your iPod should be a way to backup your music files, but that it ain't.

Sara left to visit her family in New Mexico yesterday. I would have liked to have gone with her, but I just have so much to get done during this coming week of Spring "Break". I drove her to the airport - Newark. It is sad how they have turned airports into mass-hysteria zones. The area outside the "security zone" is a waste land inhabited by transients trying to get to their flights. Even though we arrived at the airport with time, there was absolutely nowhere where we could sit together and wait for her flight. No seats, no restaurants, no cafes, nothing.

Eventually Sara joined all the other departing passengers in the maze leading up to the security check. As I waited to wave one last goodbye, I noticed how the workers herded the people through the chaotic maze as the crowd ebbed and flowed. It really reminded me like cattle being led to the slaughterhouse. You could smell the paranoia. It was probably leaking out of someone's three ounce bottle of liquid in the one quart zip-lock bag.

It turns out that Sara's flight was delayed about an hour and a half. I do think the area in the "secure" zone has more amenities, so hopefully she was able to entertain herself and sit.

Property of Joseph A. Maloney © 2004

The airport experience along with teaching a course on urban anthropology, living in New York city, talking to my mother for the first time in a couple of months (she was traveling around Mexico and out of phone contact), and trying to ground myself over this "break", has made me reflect about the interaction we have with the people around us.

For example, the building in which we live has a lot of nice people, but we really don't know any of them beyond the usually pleasantries we may share if we pass by in the hall or elevator. The people who live below us are a young couple (with Grammy tickets) and a nice dog. We have spoken about getting together for dinner, but it has never come to fruition. Our most meaningful interaction has been picking up each other's mail when we were out of town.

The man who lives above us went to the same university where Sara and I got our Ph.D.s and his sister even has a Ph.D. in anthropology from there (she lives in Brooklyn). How did I learn this? When I went to investigate why water was dripping from our kitchen ceiling and I was happening to be wearing a collegiate t-shirt. We also have spoken of the need to meet up, but have not done so.

And then there are the students with whom I fished through the discarded books in the basement, the friendly and cheerful woman who seems to have a similar schedule as mine since we always seem to be in the elevator together. Our lives pass by yet they never do connect.

Beyond that, one of my colleagues from work lives about a mile away, yet we have only met up a couple of times. I know there are some alumni from my college here, but I have not even come close to looking them up. Even Frankie from this cyber-psuedo-reality lives and works a subway ride away (we were also living in close proximity in Boston) and have discussed meeting up on occasion, but never have done so.

I am not sure where I am going with this. I have no answers. I guess I am wondering if I have become a cog in the social wheel. Have I become trapped in the iron cage of modernity (extra credit to whomever can site the sources of those two references)?

I have become fascinated with rats. I get to see them running in the gutters, scavenging in the subway stations, eating at Taco Bell (the rats are-not me!), and sunning themselves in the park. I even bought this book:


which I hope to delve into over the next week. Perhaps I believe that they might have some answers for me. Either how to survive or how not to become a rodent like them. Dunno...

The gears are cranking in my head. Whether anything good will come from it is anyone's guess.

Highlights from Today [Take 2]

Take 1 was swallowed up when Firefox crashed. It keeps crashing on me - I wonder what is going on. It has been that kind of day.

An old and angry-sounding woman called my cell phone and began yelling at me in Chinese. I tried to tell her that I thought she had reached the wrong number.

I don't think she understood me. She kept calling back and continued the yelling.

Sometimes knowing how to speak Chinese can come in handy.

I wonder if she ever got to yell at the person she was meaning to yell at.

As if that weren't exciting enough, my car was attacked by wild turkeys - while I was driving it.

The turkeys were in the middle of the road, so I slowed down so as not to hit them. As I rolled past them, they charged the car and began pecking the tires. When I stopped, they backed off. There was something about the turning wheels that they did not seem to appreciate.

As I began to move again, they rushed to peck the tires again. I was happy I was in the car. They were rather large birds.

I wonder if someone will make a meal out of them.




Maybe the angry Chinese woman...

Life is strangely interconnected like that.

Stocking up in NJ and taking stock of life


It seems that even though we live in New York, I end up shopping in New Jersey for most of our groceries and other supplies. True, I do work in NJ and I tend to stop to pick up things on my way to or from work. For groceries, though, it is just easier to shop just across the river than trekking down into the city. There is a Whole Foods and funky Japanese grocery just across the bridge. I also saw that soon there will be a Trader Joe's opening up just down the road (I hope they will sell wine there - the one halfway between here and work doesn't).

There is one grocery I do shop at in Manhattan - a funky place wedged under the West Side highway (an elevated freeway).

One of the benefits of shopping at the Whole Foods in NJ is that it allows me to stop and take in that I am actually living in New York City. The parking lot faces the river and it has amazing views of Manhattan. Living in our bubble in northern Manhattan and commuting to work in NJ, it is easy to forget that we are living in this city. I do have to drive over the George Washington bridge to get to work, but usually I am focusing on avoiding trucks and other drivers that I cannot take in the view.

At the Whole Foods parking lot, I can jump over the little dirt divider and take short stroll on the path along the water. Especially if the dogs come along for the ride like they did today. Although usually they are not all that interested in the view: they much rather figure out what it was that washed up along the shore.


Wow, I am living in this crazy city.