No Excuse.

            I have very little excuse for not blogging. I have been waking up every morning in a bedroom overlooking Chicago, from 38 stories up. It is truly a sight to be seen. Hank Weber, cousin of Daniel, has been kind enough to let us crash at his father's city dwelling. Not too bad.

 

            I went out with Allyson Gundee and Alan Weed last evening. Good wholesome night of fun lasting until three AM. I'm going to find my shirt, then go to an interview in 20 minutes…

 

xoxo

Sophomore Year.

          There is nothing like moving into you first unsupervised place. It provide opportunities for degeneracy unfathomed while under the lock and key of the RA. Needless to say, sharing in Aaron Pollock's first week in his apartment has been a true honor, fervently reminding me of how happy I am to be done with college. I've slept face down on a mattress, in a loft, with a coach pillow for three days. It was beautiful.

 

            There has not been much pursuing of passion, but we have sampled nearly every eatery in a 12 block radius. I suggest Ian's pizza on the corner of Francis and University. It kicks the crap out of Anchovie's buffalo chicken pizza. We went to the farmer's market, in the shadow of the nation's second largest capitol building, and ate fresh Wisconsin cheddar cheese curds. They were disturbingly fresh and delicious.

 

            Off to Chicago, and whatever that entails…

 

xoxo

Minnesota Magic

When asked for four press passes to the season opener at South Bend, the Notre Dame University press man told us "that would be a tall order for the New York Times." Today, we received four press passes to the season opener at South Bend. Amazing what haranguing a press guy can get you.

 

We took in the Minnesota Twins' 8-4 victory over the Mariners in the Metrodome yesterday. Who, you might ask, actually attends baseball games at noon on a Wednesday? Tons of little kids, in fluorescent matching t-shirts, bused in from summer camps around the city. We sat between pink and electric blue, and my head still hurts today.

 

We interviewed a man named Bill who has been a boxing trainer in Minneapolis for 66 years. He works at Uppercuts Gym, the only female owned boxing gym in the country. The guy was fascinating, and seems to have a genuine love for helping others get the crap beat out of them. Really a very nice man.

 

We have been staying with Christian, a third year law student and friend of a friend from Jobing. He works in the public defenders office, and is a genuinely brilliant guy. He got us an interview with one of the lawyers in his office, which was scheduled at 8 am. After returning from the bar on the corner, with Christian and Zach, at 2 AM, I did not make it to the interview; neither did the lawyer. All was not lost, however, as Brett and Zach interviewed a janitor (who spoke minimal English, but seemed to appreciate, if not love, his job very much) and another lawyer (who, low-and-behold, was boring).

 

This morning we interviewed a man named Keith who started Electric Fetus, a record store, in 1968. The place is pretty incredible, specializing in rock and jazz, but also a little bit of everything else. Asked how he has dealt with the rise in popularity of online music sales, he pointed us to the now-larger 'gift' section of the shop, which mostly consists of what legally need to be referred to as 'water pipes.'

 

We head to Madison in a hour, where we will be imposing upon my nephew, who apparently in old enough to be in college.

 

 

xoxo

Sioux Somewhere.

We camped in Sioux Falls last night, which is not to be confused with a whole other slew of Siouxs in Iowa and South Dakota. South Dakota, as I have just learned, does not believe in cell phones, wireless internet, or bug spray. The front of the RV looks like a graveyard.

 

            We are on our way to Minneapolis where we will do our best to avoid all bridges and public works, although the plausibility of that scheme does not seem good. I-90 across South Dakota, by the way, is one of the most inhumanely boring stretches of road in the world; there are paternity suits that are more exciting to be a part of. Our only detour was into Badlands national park, which looks like the set of Armageddon.

 

Hopefully something fun will happen in Minneapolis. I'm looking for something fun.

 

xoxo

Generation Why?

I'll start off this post by saying that I'm not quite sure how to use the blogger.com spell check on my Mac, so I apologize for any mis-spellings from here on out..............

Our 9 day break from our PTP travels and my current immobility due to back pain, have given me a lot of time to reflect. It was perhaps an in-depth conversation with a complete stranger in Albuquerque, NM where I was first able to articulate these ideas and I have used this handicapped situation to allow these ideas to perculate and grow. What I'm getting at is the question: Why have we had such a positive reaction to the whole idea of Pursue the Passion? And, furthermore, what generational differences have given Generation Y'ers such a sense of...I don't want to say entitlement...but more of a desire for personal fulfillment than the generations before us?

I think back to stories that my grandma used to tell me about her father, my great-grandfather, the blacksmith. She described how the two of them used to go out quail hunting. Once the game was killed, they would return home where my great-grandmother would pluck the feathers, boil and skin the birds, take what the family needed and send her daughter into town with the surplus to sell at market. Granted my great-grandparents had six children, but where was the idea of self-fulfillment there? It can be honestly assumed that they found their fulfillment in the health and happiness of their family. The same idea might be generalized about their entire generation. It is also safe to say, that in the case of my great-grandparents, that due to their Catholic beliefs and the strength of the Church at the time, that self-sacrifice was more popular than self-fulfillment, self-improvement or any of the other "self"-ish terms floating around out there nowadays. Mind you, the main outlets for communication at this point were radio, print media and the telephone.

My grandmother's generation held the same principle values as their parents, but were becoming increasingly more aware of the world around them with the popularization of film. No longer were people so limited to the messages displayed by print media, or in my family's case, the priests' interpretation of the world around them. They were still limited in the amount of messengers, but they had more outlets for information nonetheless. After World War II, soldiers came home eager to start families. In my humble opinion, this was partly out of celebration and partly out of the insecurity that tomorrow was not necessarily promised. So, they soon found themselves with families to support, and given the model set by their parents, they took the jobs necessary to provide the comfort, security and educational needs asked of them. I think back to stories that I used to hear about my Tata (endearing term for grandfather in Spanish), who worked two jobs, oftentimes with only a 15 minute nap inbetween them, to feed his six children. He, of course, was not alone in the matter. His wife, my Nana, worked 35 years at a local government base, all the while preparing meals, shuttling kids, sewing costumes and attending recitals, sporting events and the occasional parent-teacher conference to ensure the proper upbringing of her loving family. Again, where is this idea of self?

Then comes the baby-boomers. The popularization of television opened up a whole new world to the imagination of the American child. Popular radio shows had now transformed into television programs. The advent of this new technology not only provided imaginative sparks in these children, but also realistic possibilities for their futures. As with any new technology, it brought with it new industry. The same had been true of the film, but television broadened the scope and brought such ideas and images where they had not been able to be accessed before: the American living room. Again, it is my humble opinion that it was at this point that the idea of self-fulfillment began to enter the American psyche on a braoder scale. It has of course, always been an inherent ideology that Amceirca is the land of opportunity, but I think that the images portrayed on TV, however far-fetched they might have been, implanted something more concrete to these abstractions. And it wasn't just entertainment either. Baby-boomers were the first generation to grow up with television and as a result, they became increasingly more aware of what was going on in the world around them and the possibilities that it held for them and their futures. i.e. The moon landing and the notion that everyone knows exactly where they were and what they were doing and feeling when JFK was shot. Perhaps that is why PTP sometimes hears the sarcastic idea that "Not everyone can be an astronaut!" I think that TV has alot to do with the idea that being an astronaut was even a realistic possibility! My parents' generation was able to take the anti-conformist/hippie/flower-power/whatever-you-want-to-call-it stance, not solely because of, but in large part due to the diverse media outlets at their disposal. They protested what they considered an unjust war in Vietnam. They succeeded, in a way. The same can be said about the civil rights movements of the late 60's and early 70's. Media coverage yielded social change. The individual became increasingly more important as people began to see that their thoughts and concerns mattered and could help make a positive change in the world. (Once again, it is my opinion that) this individuality began to dwindle as this incredibly large number of educated people entered the American workforce. Because of the capitalistic machine that had preceded them, baby boomers knew that it was a matter of time before they traded their sandals in for loafers. They also knew that if it was going to happen, that it would have to be more on their terms then the companies that they worked for. Looking to avoid the short-comings of the the government's Social Security system, baby boomers sought out pension, health benefit and retirement plans from big business. Big business appeased and the relationship was as mutual beneficial as it was going to be.

It is perhaps either my ignorance or my belief that a few years difference should not divide generations, that I will group Generation X'ers and Generation Y'ers together. I also have a personal problem with being considered a different generation as my older brother Scott, when we are both products of the same two Baby Boomers. Anyways, whatever you want to call our/my generation we are one with infinite connections to the outside world. This works both to our advantage and disadvantage. We have constant access to any information we so desire attributed obviously to first the invention of cable television followed by the boom of the internet and globalization and our knowlege of how to use both to our advantage. We are always wired (or wireless, now I guess) in one way or another. Much like our parents, we have been encouraged to question everything and overcome the ideas that something, or anything for that matter, cannot be done. We can constantly be contacted whether via instant message, text message or plain old cellular phone call. On this same note, we are in contact more with our parents than generations of the past, a lot of times to our own detriment, as far the ideas of maturation and independence go. But it is because of these relationships, with both to our families and the outside world that we are able to explore the possibilities that the world has to offer us. We are a generation growing exceedingly comfortable with the ideas of multiculturalism as exemplified by study abroad programs and influenced by affirmative action practices implemented before our time (as negative as they are, were and can be at at times). According to a study done in 2005 (whose source escapes me at the moment), our life expectancy is 77.6 years of age, the longest for any American generation. This longer life expectancy in conjunction with the ever-so-competitive job market, pushes us to go to grad school, law school, medical school, etc. These, along with the failed marriages of our parents or friends' parents, have given us a sort of anxiety to start a family until we are happy with ourselves, our situations, our partners and of course, until we are able to do so financially. We are constantly pushing back starting families of our own, and as a result, this whole idea of self-fulfillment in a career or lifestyle chose has taken the forefront. We have a unique opportunity, even in a time of war, to explore the world and try to find ourselves and our happiness in the process. Yet why is it that at such a unique time where all of this information is at our fingertips, that social and political apathy is commonplace? Are we too self-involved? Does anything else but self-fulfillment matter? I think we could be TOO connected, if such a thing is possible. Perhaps our lack of involvement is some sort of a rebellion against the things that keep us connected. Or are we just so bombarded with messages that we simply can't find the time to formulate our own opinions? Or, if we are forming our own opinions and expressing them, do we now have too many media outlets that our personal thoughts and opinions become convoluted or lost in the pile that is the internet? Just some things to consider. Whatever the case may be, we are a generation reliant on technology. Again, sometimes to our own detriment.

As far as career choices go, I think that the global economy has allowed our generation moreso than any other in history, to find our true calling in life, make it a profession and make it lucrative enough to support ourselves and any family that we may start in the future.

Of course these ideas are just my own and I encourage anybody with any information or insight on these matters to post their opinions, thoughts, concerns, statistics, etc. I am becoming more and more intrigued by the social/political/historical implications surrounding this idea of pursuing a passion as a career, how the current conditions around us allow it to exist amd whether or not it is a feasible reality for Generation Y'ers, Generation X'ers or whatever you want to call us.

Thank you.

A 12-Hour Drive.

           By any standard, 12-hours is a heap of drive. It is also a theoretical limit; no drive, of supposedly 12-hours, is actually 12-hours; "I'll be ready in a minute, depending on the woman, could be as many as three hours. We left at 9 AM and arrived in Boulder at 2 AM, just in time for Jay to take his spasming back to the ED (somebody tell Max 'Dr. Sweet Tooth' Pollock I did not say ER). Class Project is now called Geriatrics, whose forthcoming album, Shingles & Back Pain, will be available at Wal-Mart nationwide in October.

 

            I spelled Nate's last name wrong in a previous post. I don't actually know how to spell it, but I know I did it wrong. We went out Friday as a group of nine, to Studio 54 in the MGM. Best $9 vodka drinks in the desert, and plenty of those classy half-strippers only Vegas provides. The crew of nine included: PTP, Seth 'Tayshaun-but-don't-call-me-Nat' Turner, Nate TeplitzK¥, Max Wolitzky, Sarah and Meredith (friends of Zach who had the fortune of sharing in the '12-hour ride' back home to Boulder).

 

            If nothing else I love the brevity of Vegas excursions. It's like a vacation on steroids. Pack in as much hedonistic ritual as possible and then get the hell out of Dodge, before the hangover sets in. We are now on the way to Sioux Falls, which is supposedly in South Dakota. There are either falls, or a memorial of a serious Indian defeat in Sioux Falls. On an odd note, Does Sioux Falls avoid the inherent eroticism of the 'x' by falling back on a Franco-something pronunciation? Either way, I'm excited to see Mount Rushmore, especially since they added W, Karl Rove and John Ashcroft to the mountain. That W. is so dreamy.

 

xoxo

A Picture

DSCN2174.JPG
Originally uploaded by knomad.things

These will be daily, probably, as well...

Vegas Baby.

I have only been to Las Vegas once since turning 21. I don't really see the draw. At least that's what I told myself, defeated, as I left the Pinball slot machine $40 lighter. 24 hours in this city seems plenty, especially after having spent the last 40 minutes choosing an outfit to wear to a club, named an adjective, offering $12 Amstels all night.

 

            Jay and I interviewed  Spamalot's production stage manager Tom Bartlett, a friend of Phil's. I was amazed by his ability to articulate his job and motivations. He spoke thoughtfully and sincerely, and I appreciated it wholeheartedly. Plus, we chilled in the Wynn for 6 hours, air-conditioning and all.

 

            We leave tomorrow to revisit Boulder, after, what I imagine will be, a hot drive. Off to Pure and all that may entail.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Thusly It Begins, Again.

We leave for Vegas in an hour. It should be 130 degrees on the road, which is lovely this time of year. We will be joined on our journey through Kingman, AZ by one Nate Teplitzky and one Seth Turner. Seth receives the honorary title of Passionista because he is fresh off the plane from Costa Rica, now hopping on the short bus to Nowhere. 

We will be staying with Max Wolitzky, who has graciously offered six boys use of his shower. It's gonna be mean. 

I promised Auntie Barbara I would write everyday, and I intend to fulfill that promise from here on out. In that vein, I will be focusing less on content and offering whatever spills forth from wherever it spills. We'll see how it goes. We wil be in Vegas by midnight and hopefully there will be a funny story soon.


xoxo