The Product of A Christmas Cookie Sugar Buzz

I have turned into a sweatpants-wearing, green-and-red-cookie-eating, The Santa Claus-watching, couch-potatoing, christmas-vacationing (with Chevy Chase), cheap-champagne-binge-drinking, ugly-sweater-party-attending, none-yogaing-or-running lazy SoB this month. And I blame every last chocolate truffle on the season of joy and snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes. So once again I have all kinds of stuff that I see and want to write about but have no motivation to tear myself away from my two new lovers; DVR and Tila Tequila's Shot at Love.

1. Just because babies are the new Uggs and your name is Spears does not mean you can be 16, knocked up, and proud. You are not Katherine Heigl.

2. I realized that with finicky consumer desires media has to reach into their bag of tricks and treats to keep an overstimulated society interested. Webisodes, podcast exclusives, and Super-sized primetime dramas that’s running time are longer than a psych course lecture on ADHD (also amazing that most Americans don’t have the brain calm to sit through a 2 hour college lecture yet can plant themselves in front of the TV for 2 hours of McDoctors-are-never-that-hot-in-real-life-trust-me-I’ve-looked.) But I think MTV may have taken that cutting-edge-think-outside-the-TV-box EXCLUSIVE CANNOT MISS EVEN IF YOUR DOG HAS SHIT ON THE COATS a little too far. Last week I was mentally prepared for the finale of The Hills. Would the Spidi wedding fall in a disaster of immaturity and blonde hair? Would Brody and LC stop beating around the bush already? (If for no other reason than so I can stop throwing Famous Amos cookies at the TV) Would Lauren have a chance to go to Paris after her first pass on the visit to be with Jason? (Lowest point in me and LCs fictional relationship…) All the hype during the show and (totally unnecessary) red carpet preshow talked about some BIG announcement Lauren was going to announce during the (also unnecessary) post show. Excellent! She was finally going to admit to brainwashing America into big headbands and tights. So of course I had to tune in (addiction is a disease people, I know.) The big announcement? That this wasn’t REALLY the finale…………………………………All the hype, all the hair, all the glitter, all the leggings, all the viewers ($$$$$) and that was just another episode. There are no words. As excited as I am that I get to follow Lauren and Whitney to Paris and see Heidi come crawling back to Lauren for forgiveness post-Spencer breakup, I am peeved that MTV used us at our most vulnerable (no Hills for 6 months) to wrangle in a few million viewers for NOTHING. Crazy. Yet the business side of me can’t help but be totally impressed…

3. All I want for Christmas is an apartment hallway that doesnt smell like my grandmas house wallpapered in air fresheners.

4. Nothing can put me in the holiday spirit more than Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney singing "Count my blessings" God I just melted a little inside just watching that clip

5. Ok MABYBE white christmas is tied with a made-for-TV Christmas special from 1987 that my parents taped on Beta for me and I have watched every year since. The Muppet Family Christmas. Last year my dad found some guy that hasnt left his electronics store since it opened in 1970 that had a Beta-DVD converter. He burned this for me so I can continue watching it in my little apartment without having to haul the beta player all the way across the midwest just to discover that they no longer make the kind of cables needed to hook it up to anything besides a Zenith B&W 12" tube.

5. On the El last night I was sitting across from a Christmas pie of a little girl bundled up like Randy Parker (“I can't put my arms down!”). She was singing to herself. “Dradle, dradle, dradle, I made it out of clay, Dradle, dradle, dradle, and with it I will play!” Next moment she’s singing “Santa Claus is coming to town” Merry happy Christmas Holidays.

It means no worries, for the rest of your days!

Every person has that one school subject that they continue to have nightmares about. For some it is Math (obviously not me considering my career choices so far…), for others it is English (Sentence diagramming, anyone?), for me it is science. The only science class I could ever force myself not to doodle my way through was chemistry and that was only because it was mostly math-related chemical equations. So bare with me now as I attempt to write an educated essay on biology.

I’m working hard to open myself up to more educational entertainment outside the realm of Johnny Depps new movie and where I can get a cheap massage (New School for Massage). Since I moved into my new apartment and no longer have to live like a caveman without cable or Internet, I watch more Discovery channel (this is mostly due to Doc’s aggressive claim to the remote most nights to watch Survivorman) and check out the National Geographic’s website (amazing photography). In this month’s Vanity Fair (lots of awesome articles in December’s issue as you can tell by now) I decided to try reading an article about some bamboo plant that plagues an area of India every 50 years (“Waiting for the Plague” by Alex Shoumatoff). When after 15 min my attention had not yet been seduced by the glossy ads for Bottega Venetta and Prada, I knew I was going to have to share this event with you. So lets take a moment to acknowledge the fact that Jen actually has some substance to her beyond her desire to live in a high-rise loft downtown and becoming a close and personal friend of Ashley Olsen…….Thank you. Now back to the bamboo (PS – did you know Big Boi from Outkast named his kid Bamboo? Reason #12,634,757 Outkast is wicked cool)

So there is a region in India called Mizoram where their main material for sustaining their lifestyle is the bamboo that grows in droves in the area. Once ever 48-50 years the bamboo flowers and grows fruit, after the fruit is picked the bamboo dies and regrows over the next few years. But the people of the area are plagued by rats during the time that the bamboo flowers, as the rats feed on the fruit. The people call this plague “mautam”. This puts the people in a battle for food, and consequently life, with rats. It also spawns the population of the rats. This is because normally adult rats eat their young. Sounds traumatic but it’s for survival due to the lack of what it is rats usually eat in the area. This keeps the rat population low and under control. But when the bamboo flowers and produces the fruit, the rats no longer have to have a feast of babies, but of fruit. This leaves the people of Mizoram in a state of desperation, with the bamboo dead and the rats attacking the fruit, they have no food to survive the following years until the new bamboo grows again. The people of Mizoram are in constant contest with the rats. Even when the bamboo is dormant (not producing the fruit), they spend most of their time learning about rats and planning for the next war to rage. Adding to this amazing and unbelievable account of what really happens in the world outside the urban jungle, in the real jungle, is the fact that the area Mizoram is one of the most secluded and hardest to reach corners of the world. They are a group far from the domestication and westernization of most of the world. I’m not exaggerating when I say their lives are sustained on bamboo. The author lists tables, barrels, houses, toys, all created from bamboo. They use the edible part (unscientific and I don’t have the article in front of me right now. Deal with it.) for the main portion of their diets. I feel like there is hope that the modernization and destruction of the environment will not overwhelm the whole planet when I hear about places like this that still survive without all the hoo haa of developed countries and Tyra Banks. The article notes that this circle of destruction that the bamboo goes through is probably to be reborn anew, to start over, start fresh. That maybe the whole planet will be ready to brush off all the oil and gas we create someday and destroy itself to start anew. Circle of Life. Hakuna Matata.

Its far fetched I know, to say the world is going to just dissolve into dust, giving a big “ef you” to humans. But I promise the article said it much more articulately, much more realistically, much more frightening. Like I finished the article and had a sudden need to go to the botanical gardens and give them a “Thanks for everything!” card

…..I should probably make Doc do a fact check on this entry before I make a foul out of myself with this Green Love protest…..

Footnotes

Ok I have 10,000 things I want to write about but don't know how to start or end them (like any good tortured writer) so I'm just going to jot down what I've got, simply to share what I learn each week with you. I have these little nuggets of info that I absorb throughout the week, reading magazines, websites, newspapers, and I hate having all these fun facts about the world and not sharing them with people. Whether they are intellectual, gossipy, meaningful, helpful, or just something to make you laugh, I go crazy if I can't tell you about it. So instead of trying to piece together an essay of nonsensical catch phrases (like that one) I'm just gunna list. So now I give you: Lessons learned this week, during the first snow fall of the year......

1. Uggs have no traction. Regardless of the style status of the boots, I still believe in the functionality of them. But mine have been wore so many times in the last 6 winters that I might as well have just wrapped my feet in saran wrap and lather some butter on them before stepping out into the Chicago ice storm.

2. CTA buses have no traction.

3. Because my same roommates that couldn’t afford the internet also couldn’t afford cable TV, I didn’t think the writers strike would affect me at all. (Don’t think it hasn’t affected me emotionally, knowing that I have missed half a season of Top Model with Heather and having to watch the Office over a testy streaming video connection is blackening my soul.) But I was having a hard time swallowing the halting season finale of Weeds and have a hunch the Writers Guild of America may be to blame (huge SPOILER ALERT for the show’s ending). The season finale ends with Nancy’s Mexican Muscle torching the rival growers crop, subsequently developing into a wild fire, destroying the entire suburb. Nancy then decides to move her family across the country to start anew. Let me rephrase that for people that don't know the show. The writers dropped every plot twist and character formation in the last 20 min of the finale. They got rid of the main story line by setting the city on fire. They made the main characters run away from any problems or relationships that were forming. Literally run away. To Pittsburg. There were lose ends all over the place. It seemed like a huge cop out. So as I struggled to dissect the meaning of it all, it dawned on me. The writers had to get something down on paper before they grabbed their sign and joined the picket line. For god sake, give the people what they want so more of my shows don't commit network suicide like Weeds did!

4. The 22 Clark bus is more entertaining than an episode of True Life: I have Tourettes. The guy next to me, with his 21-year-old beard, fedora, and trench coat, was finger painting on the steamy window. Apparently my inner freak was dying to know what master piece this prodigy was creating that we were all fortunate enough to be in the presence of, because before I could process my motor skills, I asked this dude what he was drawing. A sheep shaking hands with a monk. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. After he got off, I continued to stare at the window, trying to decipher the thought process that went into this kids drawing, when I was pulled away by some loud dude ranting about drama drama drama. But as I listened (along with 90% of the bus) and he's dropping terms like "She was afraid he was going to murder her personal footprint on the world" or "the bond they shared was insatiable, it was destroying them as they failed to quench each others needs." and something about a Roman emperor that gained the thrown by tricking everyone around him to kill themselves and playing dumb to the power over the empire and that "Ben" uses that technique to gain their friendship and they can't let him take over them. The real life Dawson Leery is standing behind me.

God I just reread my "list" and realize I cannot escape the adjectives that attack everything I write. so much for a quick and to the point list of fun facts.....

Every man wants to be part of a heist

A wise man once said "There are a few things men want more than sex. Every man wants to be part of a heist." That wise man was Dane Cook.

I always though that parents blaming the media and video games for corrupting their children was a load of psych crap finger-pointing (not directed at you Erin). Take responsibility for your children. And get your pets spayed or neutered. But four college kids from Kentucky are behind bars for basing an artifact heist on tricks of the trade they saw in classic 21st century heist movies like the Oceans and Snatch. My opinion was counteracted. 4 friends blind sided a librarian at the University of Kentucky library and attempted to steal something like $12 million worth of 1st edition breakthrough science textbooks that included Darwin's The Origin of Species. John Falk turned Vanity Fair into a literary Bourne Ultimatum with his article "Majoring in Crime" (The Vanity Fair print was not posted on the website. This is a summary of the feature from the local paper where the heist took place.) He went to the prison where the guys are serving their 7 year sentences. Since the law has already caught up with them, there was no reason to hold back on the plan.

The article goes into detail about how the idea came about (a smoke down in a dorm room), how they planned it (talks with "our guy", watching Snatch, Oceans 11/12/13, Reservoir dogs, jetting over to NYC and Amsterdam to plan the black market sale of the books with characters worthy of villain parts in the next Italian Job), how they tried to execute it the first time (failed because their timing interfered with one of the guys final exams.), how it finally went down (taser the old librarian and stuff as many books as possible into a bedsheet), the loop hole (they didn't know where the emergency exit was), the chase (four 20 year olds vs four librarians and an escape van borrowed from someones mom), and the escape (in time for one dudes tennis final exam). The suspenseful part was post-capture. The guys had to travel to NYC to get the books appraised at Christie's (the black market buyer would only accept the books with a proper appraisal of the value) but the clock was ticking because within a week the news of the stolen books would be public and they would be caught with their hand in the cookie jar if they waltzed into the famous auction house with the books. They made it to NYC but the appraiser hesitated to give them the value because of their age (20 years old) manor (20 years old) and lack of knowledge of the history of the books. The plan came to a halt as they waited to hear back from Christie's. Within that time, investigators in Kentucky pieced together the crime. The guys knew the plan had come unraveled and in the following weeks they went about their business as usual and waited for their arrests, which came shortly after. Gen Y 0 Librarians 1

Sounds like a cop out ending at first, but the articles ends with the big question "WHY?" The guys explained that they basically had nothing to lose. College wasn't for them. Their small town didn't fit them. They didn't want to end up pigeonholed in a dead end job in a dead end city. They wanted more. So when they plans were coming together for the heist, they had to ask "what if?" What if they got away with it? They would each have millions to their name. They would flee the country and live in the Mediterranean with yachts and women and booze, like another James Bond or Max Burdett. And what if they get caught? They go to jail for a few years, and after they come out, they will be forced to start over. They will have to move out of the small town to preserve their dignity and start fresh, start over. Win win.

To imagine the lengths these people went through to rid themselves of their past, to move forward and create a better life for themselves, one they believe they deserve, seemed so out of touch with reality. But the big picture of that, that giant risky move to get what you want out of life, happens every day. Especially to Gen Yer that are now being forced out of school and into real life, force to decide what to make of their life. I made the jump a few months back when I decided to uproot from Cleveland and try out a taste of this big city life (which is working out pretty damn well) I guess we all have our own ways of finding what fits for us. To each his own.

It's too Late to Apologize

I don't have an apology for my lack of material lately. Only excuses. Excuse #1 www.jezebel.com they have taken any and all topics that I could criticize and criticizes it with double the witty and bitch-slapping humor that I could ever hope to have. Excuse #2 is moving to Chicago, starting a new job, and temporarily having roommates that couldn't afford to pay for the internet. So there. But lucky for both of us, I had a bit of inspiration to start writing again (and we got the internet). This blog is my best effort at showing my talent to the world. Or my friends, who are the only ones who read this. Thanks for making me feel special guys.

So what to write about now? I need a good topic to reinstate my place in the Blog-o-sphere. Living in this city is still a novelty to me so I will share a story, saturated with my editorial.

I was on the train yesterday, heading downtown to watch the lighting of the Christmas lights down Michigan Ave. At some Lincoln Park stop, five mid-50's women clamber on with their fur coats and Botox-inated smiles, smelling like too much hairspray and too many glasses of White Zinfandel. They settled stiffly into seats around me and some Columbia students and a club rep (we all got free passes to some party sponsored by Camel with free boxes of cigarettes. I could almost hear the raspy-voiced hipster next to me singing "I'VE GOT A GOLDEN TICKET") We could tell these women had not been on the Red Line since 1980. Conversation ensued. There was talk of cute servers at the wine bar with a hint of potential mid-life crisis and divorce. One women was harassed shamelessly for putting lipstick on. "Are you planning on making out with someone tonight??" the heckler spat. I couldn't take my mind off their hair. The amount of product used in their hair collectively would give Al Gore no other reason for the break down of the ozone. Stiff and big; proving my theory that they hadn't been out of their suburban boxes since the 80's for a Duran Duran concert. Their conversation veered towards the rumored relationship between Ashley Olsen and Lance Armstrong. "She's a baby!" "Ugh makes me sick. what do they have in common?" "He fought cancer! He is a champion athlete and what has she done? Coke?" The underlying hostility towards Gen Y is hard to miss (I wake up every morning hoping that a higher power has turned me into an Olsen.) After the train hits their stop and they stumble off. The Golden Ticket holder next to me can hold it in no longer "Sweet Jesus I hope I never talk that much when I'm old" "Did you see that woman's face? She looking like a parrot with all the make up" I threw in my observation "Did you see how much shit was in their hair??" We group of random 20 somethings laughed to the next stop over the desperation of those women. I got off the train with yet another reason to love being young and wild and relentless and having no reason to NOT believe that Gen Y is the shit.

I've got a crush on Obama

Political tendencies aside, there's some girl that vowed her undying love to Barack as only a Gen Y new yorker hottie can - a homemade youtube music video of course!

But that's not the best part. This 3 year old yelling "CRUSH ON OBAMA!" is.

It’s all just a little bit of history repeating

A few weeks ago, Doc and I fell upon an incense-filled, Marley-shirt stocked, dusty, musty record shop in Cleveland. We went in so I could ogle over old Beatles live albums and so he could work on building up his Zeppelin collection. As I perused the colorful glass-blown display case ornaments, smelling the Lavender Dreams incense, and wondering what my hypothetical child would look like in a Janis Joplin onezie, Doc carried around an armful of albums. I helped peruse the rows of vinyl. I filed through The Wailers, lots of Floyd and Zeppelin, Clapton, Stones, and all variations of 1960s nostalgia. Then I came upon Franz Ferdinand, Ben Harper, The White Stripes. What?? I did a double take and showed Doc. He gave a knowing nod and informed me that lots of band record onto vinyl these days.

I initially just thought this was a cool trendy thing to buy records because retro and hippie chic is so hot right now. But the more I thought about this, there are many a reason for this revived industry of rock. One is the hipster pastime of DJ mixing. I've heard some SICK (yes ma'am; sick) mixes of oldies melody lines with techno beats. Why not modern it up with some Beck and his two turntables and a microphone. Another reason for the vinyl revival may be the physicality (I'm pretty sure I'm just making words up now. Two glasses of wine will do that to you). My dad brought this up in an earlier post about people that may actually want a hard copy of albums. And an interesting fact from a business woman's point of view is that new indie bands today are slipping their albums between Deep Purple's 'Stormbringer' and Cat Stevens 'Tea for the Tillerman' (Before he converted to Islam and got that crazy name -Yusuf Islam - which I didn't even know was him last time Rolling Stone reviewed one of the albums. ANYways...) to get their association in there while the gray-haired men sift through the oldies to find something a little new, boosting their credibility among the rock gods true critics, their fans.

I did a little more digging and came across two Brit articles (1) (2) about an upturn in sales numbers for their record industry.

I realize this isn't the retro takeover that in the back of my mind I may be wishing it would be, but the growing variety of uses for the good ol' material (I used to make notebooks out of the cardboard covers of Linda Ronstand albums) is a refreshing little revolution to the digital revolution. Just what music needs - a revolution of the revolution.

And I said noo noo noo

In the words of Lester Bangs/Philip Seymour Hoffman in Almost Famous "Jim Morrison is a drunken buffoon, posing as a poet. Give me The Guess Who. They've got the courage to be drunken buffoons, which makes them poetic". Reading back on old Rolling Stone articles on Kurt Cobain and the Forever 27 gang, or Hunter S Thompson, I am initially shocked at the open recklessness of these dudes (my parents raised me well in my Midwestern sheltered town) but then I realized that this IS part of rock 'n roll. These crazy acts of sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll were at the forefront of the revolution. Rock is more than just a sound, its an existence. An existence that continually pushes the envelop, at the forefront of insanity. because that's what rock does to you. it pushes you, adrenalin-pumping pushes.

But why did it take reading about pre-millennium artists for me to see this? Because post-millennium rock isn't rock at all. Its Clear Channel propaganda. We should have seen it when the Backstreet Boys 2000 album was named "Millennium". This is the album to look to when trying to uncover the culture of Y2K?? Popular music today, the stuff on the radio, is sound that so many people I know work furiously to make known they DO NOT listen to it. That they have no part in promoting that sound. Is that how bigger-than-life bands should be seen?? I'm no hypocrite. I am the first one to deny listening to Akon, Avril Lavigne, Fergie, new age Green Day. I will always claim loyalty to 1960s and 70s bands over today's tween-friendly sounds. A generation should not finger-point who's to blame for music of their time, but be proud of the sound their peers can produce. But that's not so much the case when corporations are pulling the puppet strings of artists that see $$ before music notes.

Enter my chicks. I assumed for months that Lily Allen, Amy Winehouse, Neko Case, Jenny Lewis were all just ladies that I listened to in the semi-underground indie rock circuit. As soon as I heard Lily on the radio, I was (as usual) totally disappointed in her selling out to the man. That her sound would become like everyone elses and she would fade into the place up above where artists-that-all-sound-the-same float away to. Then Amy followed when Rehab hit the airwaves. I was depressed. But as both these ladies blow up (Amy on the cover of Rolling Stone last month sealed her fate in history) I noticed that neither were cleaning up their act, changing their sound or their attitude. Lily continued her drunken foolery as she performed a concert for some NYC socialites and kept called the queen bee of rich society the wrong name . Amy continues her crazy (and usually drunken) obsession with her husband ("I'm not in this to be a [bleep] role model."). Pink has the right idea with these fellow songbirds. Neither are afraid to be wasted in public. Isn't that what everyone dreams of? Being a rock star so awesome that you can have 5 shots of Jim Bean and sing about refusing to go to rehab? These ladies are living the dream.

Long live rock 'n roll!

Rehab is so hot right now

Don't worry, this isn't some post on the party like a coke addict era of starlets (couch LiLo cough). I'm all over this badass aura of Amy Winehouse and Lily Allen right now. Way to bring back the party like a ROCK STAR persona of the past in the form of 22 year old chicks who aren't afraid to be drunk on stage AND actually have the sound to back up their i-don't-care-what-you-think-i-am-awesome 'tude. Here is a picture from SNL that just about sums up the trend (Lily Allen as Amy Winehouse) --------^^^^^

I had all these cool dude things to say about the ladies, but I'm all into youtube tonight and got distracted by videos. Numero uno is Amy Winehouse + Charlotte Church (yea that15 year old opera singing prodigy from like 10 years ago. Turns out she's got a hot modern sound too!) doing M.Jackson's 'Beat It'. How could I pass that up?! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vfdl7-E80Q # Deux is Charlotte Church and Nelly Furtado doing 'Crazy' just because, i mean come on - how often are you going to see combos like these?? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPnYWL-U1Eo And this is where my video ADD (or ADHD - correct me if I'm wrong Erin) kicked in and my Zooey stalkerness joined the party too........She can sing! (Sit tight through the first song - warm up. The second song makes me want to get into the cabaret scene.)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXLepw52iFs Fun fact is that in Elf, that's for sure her singing "Baby, its cold outside". Ok shhh I'm watching Zooey. I'll get back to you with more power to the drunk girls later.

Oh, the wonder of it all!

At the end of that Stonehenge drug-induced solstice love-fest article, it added a little comment about how Stonehenge is a finalist for one of the seven new wonders of the world. Not knowing much about worldly alien rock formations or much about the history of the OLD wonders of the world, up until that point I had assumed it was one of the wonders. A quick peak on Wikipedia informed that clearly I did not do very well in 6th grade social science since, nay, only one of the original seven ancient (not OLD) wonders of the world still exists, the great pyramid of Giza.

Well clearly these are not such wonders of the world if they could not withstand the true test of time (2000 years of time. Lightweights.) So maybe it is good that some Swiss "adventurer" (how do i get a title like that??) decided to take a global poll to see what the new generation of timeless architecture will be.

This guy has a better plan than the first Greek dudes that DECLARED the first seven wonders (Why don't people DECLARE things anymore?? Ohhh democracy. That's right.) based on amazing man-made structures they had seen. Well, in 500 BC Greece, there wasn't a whole lot to see (They didn't travel far for fear of fall off the edge of that blasted flat Earth of ours) so all the ancient wonders were around the Mediterranean Sea. Not a very complete list.

So this new Swiss guy, Bernard Weber, desided to give the people what they want! and let them vote on what they think the new seven wonders should be (There's that damn democracy again). I think this is sweet. But then you see your choices (and that you probably have to pay $1.50 per txt message to cast your vote) and you see that this is going to be a no-brainer:

1. Stonehenge. The aliens win again.
2. Effiel Tower
3. Colosseum
4. Taj Mahal
5. Great Wall of China
6. Statue of Liberty
7. Sydney Opera House

Boring but we all know they will be the winners. Its like voting on prom king and queen. They are the popular ones. Most people have probably never even heard of the other 14 places. But I've always got my heart out there for the underdog so who knows! Prove me wrong you crazy statues of easter island!

You don't have to wait for much longer. The new 7 wonders will be announced on July 7th (07.07.07 CLEVER)

Summer Summer Summer Tiiiiiime

Anther happy first day of sunny summer in this dark, rainy, cloudy, humid, frizzy-hair-inducing city of Cleveland! I never give much of a though on the official calendar date of the seasons as I believe opening a window or checking weather.com is a much more effective means of understanding the temperature changes. But it seems there is a handful of New Age people that are in tune with the earth and moons and suns and unicorns that celebrate the sacred summer solstice. And while I smile at my smirky unicorn joke, i have to admit that one of these new solstice celebrations is getting added to my "things to do before I die" list.....Time Square + yoga = My urban ashram dream come true (Shout out to Erin for pointing this out to me) I love that idea of trying to find calm in the busiest intersection in the US. Imagine - If you can shut that out, the morning commute should be a cinch! The comments from the testy and trendy New Yorkers about this event are priceless:

"Amazing! I love it! Great message for the whole world: Relaxation, Meditation and Peace…It’s what we need in this times. hugs to everybody!"-Posted by Pachecosita
"The absurdity of the west knows no limits. The west is is a pioneer in distorting traditional wisdom and packaging it into some kind of superficial commercial product." — Posted by Farahnush
"next up: kamasutra at piccadilly circus, london." — Posted by sattu
"Absurd…just another marketing gimmick" — Posted by Manoj
"freaks. "— Posted by weirdo
"yoga forever!" — Posted by julie marlowe-hesterly

I could go all day with these crazy comments! I love it!

And over on the motherland, British hippies came out to Stonehenge with their red bull and vodka and third eyes to ringing in the new season. There are too many batshit crazy awesome parts of that article to pick just one. Ok, the vibe of the living, breathing, rocks is pretty psychedelic, dude.

What can I say? JD Salinger used to get me high

I spend most of my days mulling over the ideas of generational generalizations (say that 3 times fast) for Gen Yers such as myself and buddies. But I wonder if one way to get to the bottom of differences over the ages is to look beyond Gen Y, back into Gen X and more importantly, into the baby boomers. I was very lucky to have fell upon this idea randomly through my constant Wikipedia-searching.

Last week Kristen sent me a post by the Fug girls on my favorite actress, Zooey Deschanel. I have a not-so embarrassingly huge girl crush on her and her bluest eyes. She strikes me as that friend that you can call up when you cant really decide if you want beer or your comfy jeans more, settling on a dive bar down the street that plays "Sweet Caroline" every hour, so you can drink IN your comfy jeans and discuss that always impending road trip that your really going to do this time! And anyone that ALSO celebrates Champagne Thursday like me (Failure to Launch reference. She was the sole reason I spend $20 on that movie. And SJP. and Matthew. And Matthew without his shirt on. Ok I love that movie.) is worthy of my friendship. Anyway, as most people who have a slight stalker status with their undying love do, I named my pet after her. Zoey (The double oo's seemed a little unnecessary to me) I decided to do a little more research into my little kittys namesake. Wikipedia gave me some fun facts, including the fact that HER namesake is the title character in the JD Salinger short story Franny and Zooey.

JD has never been an author I knew much about, although Catcher in the Rye is one of my favorite books, as it is with any high school student that realizes how awesome it is that a story about sex, drugs, and rock and roll in NYC by an angst 16 year old scalawag can be considered classic literature to be discussed in school. But I was increasingly interested in Salinger after this naming game plus I remembered a Sex and the City episode when Carrie is dating a guy and realizes she might be with him only because she likes his family so much. His two sisters are named Zooey and Franny and the mom makes a comment that "JD Salinger used to get me high". How do I find this man?? This man that has slipped himself into American cultural cross-references? Wikipedia, as always, gave me more fun facts! The fact that suck out for me was that he has an alleged love affair with an 18 year old up and coming writer when he was well into his 50s. Midlife crisis or finding new blood for the next literary revolution after his has passed? Well it clearly wasn't the latter since we aren't exacting in a writing war against conformity right now. Nicole Richie just wrote a memoir for christ sake. So I looked up who this little typewriter vixen was that stole the heart of this progressive mastermind. Joyce Maynard.

Maynard must have been at her peak when she was with Salinger in the 70's, because she hasn't written anything quite as brilliant since her 1972 article, An 18-year-old Looks Back on Life for the New York Times and first published novel, Looking Back. Both of these writings, written when she wasn't even 20 yet (!), are her views on life in the 60s and as her generation, the baby boomers, grew up. I will admit that I haven't read the whole article yet (Its roughly 12 pages) but she does an amazing job at making gentle generalizations while retaining everyones individuality and giving credit where credit is due. She makes great references to how current events of the time helped shape the way they lived. All and all, I wish I could write something like that for our generation. I just need to find a 60 year old writing genius to "mentor" me. I wonder if Steven King is available.....

25 million faces

(I don't know if it's just a slow week at work or if I am getting lucky finding sweet news these last few days)

You have to believe I have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to shine my praise on all that is Facebook. I search WSJ archives for a blip on the social happyland or a quick interview with the CEO (who is frighteningly only a year older than me). I looked through Time, Newsweek, NYTimes, any credible source of news-making to tell us what we already know is a sweet story parallel to the Google dorm start up. And today, while reading my favorite Fortune girl's blog, there it was. A 3 page article on the new applications that Facebook slide under our noses earlier this week. Facebook is slowly taking over the cyberworld. Then there was the followup article the ran a week after the launch of the new stuff. A week later.....

When I was playing around with the iLike app, posting my favorite songs (K-OS remix on Feist "Mushaboom" Loves it!) and finding out who else is going to the Tegan and Sara concert, I wasn't thinking about the revolution of the internet that I was involved in. The articles do a much more articulate and term-accurate way of explaining these changes so I will leave that to the expert and make you read it.

When I told Elaine about this evolution, she said "so if it crashes it will take down the world is what you are saying. or at least the under 24 world." my response "25 million people worldwide. yup. it will be a spectacular crash if nothing else...."

I think some of the most fascinating parts of this little update is

1) The freedom of anyone being able to create an app to share with us eager Facebook lovers. Within this one awesome week, the apps list has gone from the initial 65 mostly corperate-sponsored applications to 800 applications created by the guy in the apartment next to you. The creative spark of those closet techies will either be a flop (which I'm sure many will be) or the next Yahoo. And as a certified Facebook junkie me and my junkie peers will be at the helm of the success of whatever this next big thing could be. Its like an exclusive club that has access to the hip joints before the rest of the world even knows about it or can get in. An exclusive club of 25 million people and 150,000 new members every day......

#2 sweet thing is the natural Hot or Not of these applications as they find free members. When you eliminate the money and advertising aspect of anything, your going to see the true trend and activity of it with people as a whole. It goes hand in hand with my philosophy on free mp3s for up and coming bands to get a solid fan base (see uofm application essay) The part of the article (I don't know which one) where they say that Facebook didn't even announce the changes, that people found out about the applications was through the Mini Feed. After a week, iLike (which seems to be the most popular app so far) had 1 million members within Facebook. I can attest to that. That's exactly how I found it. I logged on one day and found that the guy that is subleasing my friend's room for the summer "added the iLike application" You put an i in front of anything and you've got me hook line and sinker (pod, phone, mac, tunes) So I clicked and signed up. 1 million and one.

iii) The best and most awesome (I'm running out of awesome adjectives) aspect of this, from a former Marketing major's standpoint, is the idea of friends reviewing products for friends. I haven't come across this app yet so I don't know much about it (or if it even exists yet), but i do know that it could be the demise of advertising-induced hypnotism that companies have over us with commercials and ads and an overabundance of awesome adjectives to use on their own products and less on the actual quality of the products. People are always going to listen to their friends over the 60 year old 3 piece suit CEO's marketing team with $$ in their eyes. So what terribly awesome new ways are they going to have to come up with to get us to buy their product. I say if you can't beat em, join em.

So I just did a once over on my 3 awesome Facebook points and I saw a huge parttern that makes me kind of embared to realize that I am basically talking about the same thing 3 times over. The user is in control. Freedom. God that is a great word.

Battle Royale

I have spent the last 6 work hours with earbuds on and eyes glued to the WSJ coverage of da D. I don't know much about what seems to be the geek's equivalent to the Detroit Auto Show, except that it brought together a rivalry that looks much like a Michigan State/Unv of Michigan inner-state Big 10 football game. As fierce and loyalty-driven as all the fans become during that weekend in October, when you take a step back, you really can't compare the 2 teams beyond families with split green and white/blue and gold flags flying. I'm talking about Steve Jobs vs Bill Gates. Apple vs Microsoft. Steve and Bill sat down for a joint interview at this gigabyte mecca event, before which they hadn't done since like 1991 for Fortune (aside from sitting at the same dinner table at the same conference in '05). I think a few techies actually died happy right there in their conference room folding chair.

As they politely took turns answering questions, Bill in his Dwight-esque beige uniform and Stevie in his jeans and signature black turtleneck (Tell me; WHO else do you know that can pull off a turtleneck in that sexy way? Tell me. Who? Nobody.), its evident that there will be no taking it out back after the meeting, there will be no dropping of the gloves. These two computer giants, in the last decade, have taken very different approaches to the personal computer and tech specs in general. They have veered in different directions. They were pedalling down a very narrow road next to each other. Their only options were to knock someone down gladiator-style or take different roads at the next fork. And that's what they did. Their answers were very different, they answered in very different styles, you could see the differences in visions and success. Incomparable.

As opposed to the predicted battle royale, these men are decidedly getting older, their punches less fiery, competitive nature calmed. As they both have their billions stashed away, they are riding the wings of success in their prime. This interview found them both simply reminiscing about the good ol' days of 16k modems when they used to work together and pushed each other. Most people ended up calling it a love-fest vs the must anticipated smackdown as both companies are wheeling out their fair share of new products this year (Apple TV, Windows Vista, etc). The only squib came from my husband in a separate interview earlier in the day when he said PC-compatible iTunes was like "handing a glass of ice water to someone in hell". OH SNAP. But other then that, you can tell they are no longer friends nor rivals. They are watching over their respective well-oiled kingdoms from afar and smiling, thinking "...and it was good"

PS - Bill made some comment at the beginning about how he is not the "Fake Steve Jobs" I laughed at this simply thinking that, of course, Bill is just jealous of my husbands success. But after some research, I discovered that he was refering to this Fake Steve blog that take a witty twist on Steve vs Bill issues, which you must imagine, I am in love with.

Masters of Science in Cyber Social Butterflying

For universities to keep their internet start-up dorm residents from dropping out to go global in Silicon Valley before they can even get into the bar without a fake ID, they are actually bribing them with MySpace. MIT and UofM finally have no choice to but attract the 20 something tech genius grad student by letting them get a degree in the art of legitimate stalking. This is also reason #37,543 Gen Y is proving how hip and social and cyber-savvy we are AND making it legit at the same time. Facebook 201

As off the wall and specialized as it may be, I think its a step in the right direction for tradition-soaked age old universities to keep in step with advancing knowledge and interest. Granted the WSJ article only sites about 4 colleges that have these programs, its a start.

Even though these handful of institutions are working on being up on whats popular and whats in store for "the future corporate leaders of the global marketplace", it's still frustrating that the vast majority of schools, and corporations for that matter, are either a) not putting in the effort to try to understand what we as the brightest and best are looking for in our experiences or b) don't really care because we are older and wiser and you will do what we say because that is how it has been done and that is how it will be done. Forever. Overall, it APPEARS that people actually care about catering to our needs (See Google work culture - sick) but because it is only the companies and colleges with the most facetime with the general public and media (and money) to make it known that they are sweet, dawg. 90% of 20 somethings are not being schmoozed with free on-site massages or pop culture master's degrees. And I realize money blah blah is an issue, but most companies just need to put aside their pride and open a magazine or read a few blogs to see what we as a generation need and want in our future. Get off your high horse because pretty soon we will be running the show and man, karma is a bitch.

{step off soapbox and walk away with head held high}

A Hotel on Broadway

As a self-proclaimed music enthusiast, I have given up on the tragic state of FM radio and Clear Channel-induced propaganda. Many moons ago, just as another Detroit radio station fell victim to yet another loud-mouthed-with-nothing-to-say DJ playing "hits from the 80s, 90s, and now!", high school shout-outs, and mad moms in minivans winning Disneyworld trips, I threw my white flag in and turned off my car radio. I couldn't buy blank CDs fast enough to keep up with my changing music taste and new band discoveries in constant rotation in my car and bedroom. My dad was falling into the same radio slump as he contemplated re-registering for his 1991 subscription for "2000 CDs for one cent each!!!" (The last thing our house needed was more Steely Dan anthologies and Billy Joel greatest hits. Don't get me wrong, they are legends in their own right and have graced the Waters family airwaves every Sunday - but you need to draw line after something like River of Dreams). When he found himself dusting off his reel-to-reel, he decided it was time to make some changes. Enter satellite radio.

We have not turned back since that day in 2003 that we got our XM radio hook up. Since then, it has taken over our lives. Running wires into every room in the house, car hookups, portable players, streaming on the web. When I found out I could bring "the sounds of Starbucks" into my dorm room, I was on my knees thanking the commercial gods of coffeehouse rock. Dad had every Canadian hockey game that CBS wouldn't pick up. Mom had her news and Martha Stewart. Me and my sister had bona fide new music on 150 channels of broadcast bliss.....commercial free! So when the news hit of a potential XM-Sirius merger earlier this year, you have to believe I was obsessed with the business behind this theoretical ground-breaking proposition. My first instinct was as a loyal customer: "The channels! Imagine the possibilities! 500 channels! Ecstasy!" my next was as a business woman: "The monopoly! Imagine the lawsuits!"

This is the best professional judgement I came across in a WSJ article.

If the FCC somehow turns their head from the possibility of airwave-takeover with this merger, the outcome could be awesome for listeners. Low subscription prices as production costs decrease (if they want to be ethical about things.....HA I am an idealist), larger selection, more celebrities, more Howard Stern (!).

But the essence of monopoly is in the air. It would take us right back to the Pinocchio strings of the media as another consolidation leads to giving us no choice but to listen to what they feed us. And for many satellite listeners, that was the main reason for the switch in the first place. Lest we not also forget the basic ECON 101 lesson behind a monopoly - without competition, where is a corporation's drive to lower prices? They could take the prices up to $1,000 but if you want it badly enough, you will pay. Then it becomes an internal struggle instead of a media luxury; how much is Howard Stern worth to you?

The idea of "competition" is where the fine line will be hyper-analyzed over the next few months as a decision is reached as to whether the FCC will allow the merger to take place. You could argue that XM and Sirius are each other only competitors in the satellite radio ring. But is that all they are fighting with for our listening (and money)? Or is FM/AM broadcast a threat in the radio ring? iPods in the music application ring? old school CDs? Podcasts in the media ring? Wii in the entertainment ring?? If the competition expanded to the entertainment industry as a whole, satellite radio is less than 2% of the market. I never considered this idea of what combination of consumer products are vying for my attention (and money - you get the idea) Its like 6 degrees of separation within all capitalist organizations. Somewhere, there is a poor college student trying to choose between XM radio and TBS reruns.

(logic: listen to XM or Podcast? The Onion podcast or NY Times TimesTalks? TimesTalk with Larry David or Harvey Weinstein on entertaining America? An episode of Seinfeld or Curb Your Enthusiasm? Vandelay Industries or Junior Mints? TBS rerun or DVD box set?)

The 20-something Takeover!

This article may be a continuation of some parts of my post on our big-headed generation, but I am mostly just posting it without commentary because I think it is genius. This girl has hit the nail on the head as to how I feel about this post-grad life and times of the 20 something

The Midwestern NY takeover!

I have une petite guilty pleasure in following the gossip and trendy cat-fights of the New York City socialites - the closest the US will ever come to royalty. The last few weeks, its been the typical bashing of benefit outfits and marital playoffs. A run-down on my not-so-secret way inside the minds of these keys to eternal happiness through valentino are websites like park ave peerage, gawker, socialite rank (now defunct), new york social diary, and the like. i read mostly for the pictures of high fashion and the occational whitty commentary. But the hidden gold in these websites are the comments posted by "readers" who are, in fact, the socialites themselves - chatting back and forth at each other over horrible fashion missteps, calorie counts, engagement party guestlists, and all around bad b*tching. It also does wonders for my self-esteem and work-driven midwestern upbringing - I still find it laughable sad how devoid of actual life these "have it all" girls and gay boys are.

But then, as if the hollywood gods had finally found a way to take over the blaze high rollin' life of these Park Ave {insert clever royalty pun here}, the social "scene" losts its mind over the explosive finale of the online socialite networks, as a NY Magwriter played fashionable hardy boy to the mystery that was the masterminds behind these sites that had New York PYTs wrapped around their judgemental little fingers. In summary of this indepth research project - the uncomfortably questionable lovey russian bro-sis duo on the fringe of NY society had created Socialite Rank as a cyber-hair-pulling-and-nail-scratching fight as revenge for their dismiss from the inner circle (all the cliche metaphores i am using here are making me cringe - all the better for effect). So blah blah that was no surprise, trying to put down those that had kept them down. Ruthless and extreme but {yawn}. But, like any great prime time soap opera writer that keeps their audience yearning for more over the top antics and unconcievable situations, the twist does not come until page 8 of this 8 page headlined news story. After Socialite Rank hung its highlighed and weaved head and went off the web, eyed turned to an equally explosive site, Park Ave Peerage, full of never-before-seen pictures of the Trump Princess out on the town, socialites tanning in the Hamptons, and color-coordinated family photo shoots for seashell-clad frames at the summer house in Nantucket. People (nay, not people, socialites) wondered who was posting these intimate photos that actually make these ladies and queens look....normal?? Are you ready for the twist? an 18 year old freshman boy at the University of Illinois.

Is there really anything left to say? This midwestern Indian immigrant dude sitting in his dorm had infiltrated the glass case of [fake] emotion that surrounds the fortress of New York. He has brought the future leaders of charity balls around world to tears. Just read the comments on his site after the cat was out of the bag. The girls are speechless as well. This dude stole Anna Wintour's show as table after table at the Met Institue Costume Gala cheersed to his brillant research and classy commentary. To keep from crying over the fact that they can no longer continue to ignore the fact that they live among us midwestern homegrown kids and that we are as much real to them as they are to us.

We both know I'm a phenomenal dancer

I am a student of Gen Y. I strive to see how the US population views my generation and to see if they are right on or smelly stereotypes. I found a WSJ article today about a trend in the twenty-something new professionals that I had never heard before. It struck me as such a sprawling generalization and seemed so self-important I found it hard to accept at first. But its true. Our generation needs more praise.

This issue was too impressive to pass up, but a little touchy for my single voice to try to explain. I've got my ideas behind it, and I asked some friends and my parents to let me know what they thought of this as well.

My dad’s opinion was pure coincidence. He has seen, in the workplace, an increase in praise and positive reinforcement years before my generation entered the workplace. “I don't quite agree. The change in management style actually occurred when the generation targeted by the article was kids, because managers then were parents and started applying the same style of management they used for parenting. The fact that these kids grew up at the same time many companies where going over the top on praise (because it evolved over time like anything else) is coincidental.” So perhaps the US as a whole is stepping up the compliments.

A friend of mine took the upper hand on the issue, looking at it from the management position. She is a pitching couch for the local high school softball team. She said that her girls’ need for praise has turned into their demanding praise and rejecting negative feedback. Have we come to see praise as the norm? Do we get a handful of compliments and become jaded over our failures? Do we think we are without flaws now?

Over the weekend, some friend and I had a girl’s wine-and-chick-flicks night in. We watched The Devil Wears Prada (a personal favorite – Anne Hathaway is right up there with America Ferrara for me - helping us big brown eyed girls embrace our features and size 6 self). There is a scene when Andy is complaining to Nigel that for all the Starbucks she fetches and spa appointments she books and look-sees she has to trail to, she does not receive so much as a glimmering eye of gratitude from Miranda (a character not-so-loosing based on the equally pursed-lipped Vouge editor-in-chief Anna Wintour)

I, personally, agree to the extent that I do feel better about my work and am willing to put forth more effort when I know that it will be recognized. But is that a generational characteristic or a need that all people have? Perhaps because my generation has grown up in a, until recently, peaceful time – we have never had to worry about a war draft, or saving scraps to sustain American lifestyle – we are less aware of our part as a collective, looking more closely at ourselves instead. We do not see that our hard work is propelling a company forward, but that it is not personally satisfying without recognition. Could it also stem from being raised off the Internet? Another view of it is the instant feedback that people get after posting blogs, recording podcasts, uploading YouTube videos, writing facebook or MySpace wall posts, etc. We have become accustom to hearing what people have to say about our work in our personal lives. If most of the feedback you get from friends and family on things like that is positive, then a positive shine our your own work is bound to follow. And without getting that same approval from bosses may discourage us into believe that our work is useless.

I get rare praise for the menial work I do from day to day in the office. But there was one particularly stressful report that gets sent up to some big-wigs that I had spent days going over with a fine-tooth comb ensuring it wasn’t going to get sent back to me by the CEO wondering why a $40 million charge was made to Girl Scout Troop #5555. A few days after I held my breath and pressed “send” on that report, I got an email back from my boss’s boss saying that his boss wanted me to know that I did a great job on the report. I have saved that email, spent about 5 hours beaming over the accomplishment, showing Elaine and forwarding it to my parents to put on the fridge like an A+ report card. I now work harder every month on that one report, waiting for the praise to come again. It never has, but I still bank on the fact that if it happened once, it’s bound to happen again. The ball is now in the manager’s court, though. Does he compliment my excel qualities every month over the fact that it was done without errors – which is the basic description of my job requirements, nothing out of the ordinary – or ignore the fact that I am waiting patiently like one of Pavlov’s dog waiting to get that steak again?

I ask – how much effort does it take to stop by an employee’s office and tell them thanks? Not much. Today, pat someone on the back. If nothing else, there's got to be some good karma in there for you somewhere.

Must See TV!

It’s Thursday. The best day of the week. Over the hump. And time to hang out with some of your best, most drama-filled with the perfect amount of comic relief, fickle, always-knows-what-to-say, beautiful friends. I'm talking about Michael, Jan, Toby, Kelly, Meredith, Derek, Addison, JD, Elliot, Turk, Betty, Daniel, Wilhelmina, Liz, Jack, Kenneth, and all their buddies. But it can be stressful as well. Because with all these people vying for your time, it’s hard to please everyone. And everyone is so fabulous and funny and diva-esque that you don't want to miss a beat with any of them!

I wrote a frantic email to my parents this morning:

We have a huge emergency. Must See TV thursday has gone into overload. The Office is "supersized" = 45 min long and Greys TWO WHOLE HOURS (blows my mind) but they....sin of all sins......OVERLAP! could we tape the office (8:36-9:19)? Just be sure that everyone is positioned in front of the tv for Greys at 9 therefore nobody will miss the beginning of greys and wont need to be taped. we need all hands on deck to get this going smoothly.

Responses -

Mom: Have you ever heard of "re-runs"?

Me: our generation doesnt have the patience or capacity to wait for re-runs. we need it new and we need it now.

Dad: Sorry, but I'll be in front of my XM Radio LISTENING to the BuffaloSabres-NY Rangers game because its NOT on Canadian TV because of abreach of international etiquette on the part of US TV Networks!! Butthat is another matter all together......However, I will tape the office......

Mom: Maybe you can tape the game on cassette. What can we use the Beta for?

Me: tape ugly betty on beta. i can wait for that one. its second tier, you can put ER on there too. oh but 30 rock is supposed to be really good and laura is trying to convert me. its at the same time as greys, which is another moral dilemma. what are the networks trying to acheive here?? other then send their audience into a ALL NEW EPISODE tailspin.

I live for The Office. My life IS The Office. And Grey's is important simply for the fact that if I miss it, I will be shunned from my flesh and blood friends. And I adore Tina Fey. And who doesn't love the twisted mind of Alec Baldwin? And I think America Ferrera is a diamond in the rough for my generation. And Zach Braff makes movie soundtracks like the best college radio DJ I know (plus he wrote, directed, AND starred in the life-changing movie that was Garden State for me). And....and....I have dreams about McDreamy (so cliché I think Doc actually threw up a little bit in his mouth when I told him that. Then questioned my fidelity.) And I';m only looking at NBC and ABC!

With the upcoming finale season just weeks away, I feel like these extended episodes are a warm up for the big night when we have to use all technology to our advantage in order to not lag behind as the primetime parade marches on without you. TiVo, DVR, iTunes, old fashioned tape recorder. It seems implausible to even CONSIDER missing the Grey's finale (Will George chose Kallie or Izzie? Will Addison's spin off get picked up?) to see what all the fuss is about with 30 Rock (I heard something about someone's boyfriend moving to Cleveland? Now THAT is funny), yet someone is begging you to change the channel. Its Tracey Morgan. So you have to ask yourself: where does your loyalty lie?

The business numbers don't add up to the stress that is the remote control battle that goes down in homes across the US every Thursday night at 8:00. WSJ says viewer numbers are down per show. But they don't take into consideration that fact that there are 3 time as many shows to choose from now. So they essentially are only including those viewers that have 3 TVs next to each other showing The Office, Ugly Betty, and Survivor (If this person does existes; I feel a little better about my clearly NOT out of hand obssession with the shows)

All this torrent babble about one-dimensional drama is just more of a reason for me to ask, again, what are The Networks trying to achieve here?? It’s like the Clear Channel chaos theory. Whatever show you chose will determine your ultimate fate. Jim and Pam forever or Wilhelmina Mode domination?

Peace, Love, and Music

Thanks to Boutit and his festival obsessions, along with a long line of hippie friends that have attempted to make festival-hopping a true lifestyle, I have spent today furiously reading reviews from the Coachella Festival that was this past weekend in California and hating myself for not realize the mass awesomeness of the lineup and having not thrown responsibilty to the wind and gone to it.

So I pay homage to the Music Festival. Unfortunetaly and embaressingly, I have never been to one. I've been to my fair share of shows, of course, but I look upon the religious ceremony that is the 3-day music festival from afar, sighing and only imagining how overwhelming the atmosphere is. Sometimes I believe that it is best that I don't step into that temple of indie rock and ska, so as to avoid the unavoidable panic attack I would have at the meer sight of 5 stages, hemp booths, DJ set ups, 150 of my closest friends and bandmates, and an entire generation of Woodstock-wannabes. It is my calling, but I'm afraid of what it would do to my logical thinking on life. Because, you know, I can live in a muddy tent. I can shower in the rain. I can wear tapastries. I can eat veggie hot dogs and hummus. I can use port-o-potties. I can do that. If it means I can listen to nonstop music of my favorite bands all in the same place. Please introduce me to the man that thought up these cultural meccas. (Ok, I can't seem to find it on Wikipedia, but we'll just lay the praise on Michael Lang for putting Woodstock in motion). Its like Costco for music-listeners. Wholesale rocking out. And who doesn't love Costco?? One-stop shopping. If you took the 170 bands playing at Bonnaroo this year at an average of probably $20 a ticket if you saw each one on tour = $3,400 if you wanted to catch them all. Tickets to Bonnaroo = $214 at the most. Throw in a road trip and tent and you are still nowhere near the thousands of dollars and time it would take to hit all those guys individually. Look at it another way. 170 bands divided by $214 = $0.74 per band! I'm a numbers person but, seriously, that is amazing.

And what is the best part of this obsession is that its building steam. The festivals are popping up all over the US: Lollapalooza, Bonnaroo, Coachella, Summerfest, South by Southwest, All Good, 10,000 Lakes, Austin City Limits, and so much more. Event planners are seeing this equation, are hearing the buzz of crazy music people like me and they eyes turn to $$, which is fine with me if it means your going to give me the Arcade Fire, Wilco, Amy Winehouse, My Morning Jacket, Gomez, Ghostfaced Killa, Lily Allen, Artic Monkeys, the Chili Peppers, and Bjork on one stage. Feed off my naive, teenage marketing audience. We love it!

Yooooogalaties

What I learned in yoga this week:

Ahimsa - the act of non-violence. Our instructor discussed it in the sense of our personal lives. Don't harm your spirit, yourself. Don't push your body into pain. In our poses, we are supposed to think positively about what we are doing to our body, not the pain that comes with it. Remove yourself from the pain. Don't make a face when you go down into chaturanga dandasana, don't bite your nails; that type of concentration on breathing and internal feelings, not external feelings. But its hard not to see the indirect connection in this weeks lesson with the various newmaking attacks in the last week.

Its so genius, even a caveman could do it

The cavemen. Or, if you spend your days where I do, "Those *&%)!@ cavemen". I need to overcome the fact that those full sized hobbits are putting me out of a job, because they are so fascinating that my group just spent half our team meeting talking about them.

This is advertising spiraling out of control. Yes, they are sassy and oddly attractive in a 4000 BC kind of way, but fictitious corporate mascots should NOT be let out of their 30 second commercial cages! They run wild among the young and beautiful starlets of Hollywood while drilling into our subconscious something as unexciting and standard as car insurance. These menaces to our society have wandering into our watercooler conversations, our award show red carpets, our worktime-wasting internet surfing, even our precious primetime TV!

They have upped the anty in insurance advertising. Remember the good ol' days when you just asked your agent for the cheapest rate and companies just bribed agents to sell their stuff? But now, I'm furiously downloading bands from the Caveman's iPod, making ironic comparisons of the classy Australian gecko to Mr Big, and watching as already infamous Hollywood personalities get their long awaited 15 min of fame.

If you were to theoretically look at these probably genius marketeers from a theoretical competitor's view point, the seemingly awesome 3 ad campaigns that they have going on simultaneously is pretty radical when you take into consideration the fact that this is for INSURANCE. The other competitors are floored that no longer can they get away with the sappy or informative commercials on your rate coverage. They need D list celebs, saucy talking lizards, and primetime heroes of the stone age. Its so beyond anything inusurance has seen that they can't even bother to say" Why didn't we think of that?" And do you what they have to say about that? Its so easy a caveman and a lizard can do it! Smartasses.

Earth Day Everyday

Always a day late and a dollar short, here are my belated Earth Day thoughts:

Woke up Sunday morning to Doc's phone call -
Him: "Happy Earth Day! Go plant a tree!"
Me: "Go plant one for me."
Him: "I have an enviromental science degree......I'm planting trees of knowledge."

So wise.

When I was little, I used to wear a shirt on Earth Day every year that said "Earth Day Everyday"

Again, so wise.

To all my Graduates

I have to take a moment to step away from my culture-obsessions and lead into a huge topic for me right now. One that I have been intimidated to attack but really must, for my benefit and for the benefit of everyone my age. I spend countless hours talking to my friends with looming graduation ceremonies about the up and down thought process in the months leading up to the big kick in the behind as schools boot you out into the "real world". I stepped up for my swift kick in the rear last December, a semester before my counter-parts. And let me tell you - it hurts like nothing else. The last 3 months have been a blur as I stand up, rub my behind, get my bearings, reorient myself, and look around to where I ended up. Turns out, I landed in Cleveland. I think this period where you just have to close your eyes and let that painful uncertainty take over for you is completely necessary. I have said this once and I will say a hundred times more. The best advice I have ever gotten about taking these leaps and bounds in my life is "Don't think - Do." As soon as you find yourself trying to answer questions like 'What do I want to do with my life?' you try to place everything on hold until you can answer it. And show me ONE 20 year old that can honestly answer that question! You’d be standing around thinking forever, and all that thinking and no action is bad for your inner balance.

I have discovered that the best way to know what you want is to try (obviously). But I say this because, only after you are in an environment can you really know what you love and hate about it. I had the same epiphany 4 years ago when I was deciding on a college. Everyone pretends, as the wander around campus tours and sit through advisor meetings, that they know what they are looking for. But how can you know what you love about something you have never lived through? The best decision I have ever made was transferring schools. Not until I had been at Univ of Dayton, did I know in general what college was like. Only then could I figure out what parts I like and don’t like. Then as I went through the college search round 2, the decision of Michigan State was so much easier and I felt so much more confident in it. If I ruled the world, everyone would have to look at college again after a year.

Now, I have to apply the same thinking as I go through the job search. I took the leap, ended up somewhere without much thought (they told me they would give me money to crunch their numbers; those were the only requirements I needed) Now that I've got those basic facts down, the hard part begins. What am I doing here? Do I even want to be here? Do I want to settle down here? Do I want to work at this job for the next 50 years? Do I even want to BE an accountant? No.

Whenever that answer would pop into my head over the past few weeks, I broke down in tears. I made the wrong decision. Regret has weighed heavy on me. But then again, its not that I went into this KNOWING it was wrong. I took the unknowing leap. Now that I’m here, I can look around and see what I like and don’t like. There are millions of places you can land after the kick, the odds of landing in the place you love forever and always is one in a million. Not such hot odds are they now?

So I’m not scared or embarrassed to say now that I don’t want to be where I am today for much longer. But I’m out here. And that part, that vast air of choices that I have now, that fact that I am young with nothing to tie me down except my apartment lease, is an amazing feeling.

Spray paint the town red

When I came across a Times article about a NY graffiti artist's troubles with the law, the inevitable question arose in my mind that the judge is brooding over as well. Where is the line between art and vandalism?

The culture of graffiti art was nothing more than the backdrop to early '90s rap videos to me until I endured my 20 hour cross country road trip to Colorado with Doc and two of his friends. One of the boys had mentioned some random fact about how the rapper Common used to be part of the Chicago graffiti scene while we listened to "Be". You learn something new everyday. This was followed with some minor run-ins with the Crested Butte ski patrol and a tag on a chairlift by the fact-full dude. I was intrigued by this sub culture as I got a sample of it during my trip.

To further probe this underground culture I know nothing about, i looked to two trusted sources: Facebook and Wikipedia (“Wikipedia is the best thing ever. Anyone in the world can write anything they want about any subject. So you know you are getting the best possible information.” – Michael, The Office). I did some minor stalking of Doc's friend and found a link in his profile to Banksy, a London graffiti artist that I seen in books in Urban Outfitters. Looking more closely at this guy's work, I was repeatedly jutted into shock and awe over the genius of his statements and simple finger pointing at the law of his art. Beyond his middle finger to the law, his art is thought-provoking, peace-desiring, and of course controversial (wouldn't ask for anything less). Even as I look for images to share of this guys awesome graffiti, I am hit with that which the graffiti artist fights - legality. On his site, I try to click the link to his gallery and get that siren on my screen "access denied" as the web at work is restricted. The cause of the sudden message was "Criminal Activity". There you go. I was trying to find a simple way to describe the frustration (or adrenalin rush) those artists get from the fact that what they do is overall considered criminal. But I don't think I need to elaborate.

The line is smudged when it comes to cases such as the Times article up there - when the graffiti artist's underground fame leads him into the bright light of mainstream capitalism. They become artists in the eyes of those that used to believe they should be behind bars as soon as they are sponsored by Vans or paint on a canvas instead of a subway. A graffiti artists turned-entrepreneur, Marc Ecko, recently came out with a PlayStation game that is based around: "an amateur graffiti artist going by the name of 'Trane' who uses graffiti and tagging as a way to protest against the corrupt city of New Radius, in a future world where freedom of expression is suppressed by a tyrannical city government." The Brooklyn Museum has even turned the city graffiti into an exhibit. Where is the line? Should the Brooklyn Museum be under siege for promoting the illegal? Or applauded for thinking outside the box, an idea that in embraced in contemporary art. It calls into question who decides what art is and the ideals behind freedom of speech. These are issues that have the same weight as asking what the meaning of life is. Unanswerable.

Yogi Bear

In an attempt to outsmart my body from falling into the no-energy-or-motivation-to-do-anything-that-involves-strenuous-activities-or-spandex-give-me-my-sex-and-the-city-reruns-and-frumpy-sweaters winter work out slump, I started doing yoga instead of attempting to pull on my Underarmor and run outside. I've always been one drawn to the trendy spiritual world of incenses and kabala. Who wouldn't want to close their eyes and picture themselves next to a babbling brook or spending their days raking lines through sand, sipping herbal teas next to a waterfall? It all seems so fantastic and calm and deep. So unlike the everyday life of an American Dreamer. But I had never been able to become an active participant; afraid of being dismissed as a bandwagon spiritual explorer. For some reason though, as has happened multiple times since I moved (exactly 3 months ago!), one day I woke up and said “Today is the day, yoga. You and me, we’re going to see what we’ve got goin on together. I won’t be scared of your judgment and dedicated gurus if you don’t make fun of my stretch pants and the fact that I can’t touch my toes.”

So I started going to the beginner’s yoga class offered after work at the fitness center (With the fabulously-cheese name ‘Yoga Flow’). I really do enjoy it. I am surprisingly more flexible than I previously believed (My flexibility ended when I tossed my leotard and quit the YMCA gymnastics classes in 1st grade.) The first couple classes were dedicated to me trying not to giggle every time my instructor said to go into ‘downward-facing dog’ position or rolling my eyes at the gibberish Hindu names of other position that I was convinced she was making up as she went. Officially, the first few weeks were supposed to be for me to understand the general positions and find my body’s limits, which I did in between glances over at Elaine as she tried to fold herself into a pretzel.

But after those first few weeks trying to grasp the edge of this complex and exhausting Indian ritual (and after Elaine had given up on spiritual growth altogther), it started to flow (rightfully named for the class) a little better. I was already inches away from touching my toes again for the first time since before puberty, was learning position names, and could make the transitions without distracting the whole class as I waved my arms around or wiggle my butt trying to move my legs into a knot. My instructor is fabulous. She said I’m doing very well for a beginner and gently helps me correct my moves and gives me advice on breathing and hand placement. I understand now the need to focus on your breathing, how much easier each move comes if you are more aware internally of what you are doing, than what shadow puppet you seem to be making in the mirrored walls of the exercise room.

This is my intro into this little adventure that is yoga to me. There is lots more material where this came from. Until next time.

Virginia Tech

It would be ignorant of me not to comment on the traumatic shooting at Virginia Tech yesterday. It sends chills through me as I read article after article about the timeline of events. I think it hits close to home because it was on a college campus. I picture it played out at MSU, in the dorm I lived in, in any number of buildings I went to class in every day. To imagine that scene isn't something that is settling to me.

The fact that news like that springs up in the middle of a quiet Monday reminds me of how surprising and unpreprared events like this are, making it all the more frightening and making me all the more aware of what is around me, how easily it can change.

From the sounds of a majority of the articles and news reports on the event, the university has a long road ahead of them as they defend their reactive actions and safety on campus. But, before politicans take this opportunity to blow up the gun control issues and before parents can criticize the influence of video games and being bullied at school, all questions and issues asside, we just need time to take it all in, notice the loss.

The Swiss Family Robinson, Gay Cars, Sex, Special Brownies, and Nelly Furtado

The world must be having as boring of a week as I am. I couldn't help but notice the random topics of discussion in the NYTimes over the past few days.

- Rich upper class citizens across the world (not just the material girl of America) are finding new and exciting ways to spice up their already flaming lives and "get away from it all" (I know how you feel; sometimes I just feel like my bulging bank account weights heavy on my spirit too) by commissioning treehouse architects to build their childhood dream full scale. I would advise these people's shrinks to discuss childhood trama and their moms not loving them enough.

- Don't judge a book by its cover. Judge a gay man by his car.

- It seems the Health and Science writers have finally gotten laid, because they have spent the last 3 days pulling apart that which is the mystery of love, desire, and sex after 40. Don't get too hot and heavy, they have a very unsexy way of going about this complex path to understanding. Lest we forget that these are still science geeks, which brings up the fact that it has been this long since they last experienced that post-coital cuddle. From desire being in the genes (not trashy romance novels like we previously followed) to the inevitable and strong search party that tries, unrested, to find the female equivalent to those baby blues, and some dating show that goes on in your head called the flaw-o-matic and how dating services are serving to improve this cerebral entertainment and perhaps hiring Sally Fields as the new host. Responses to MLK Jr.'s flirting tactics and turning Menopause: The Musical into your center stage with your mojo as the lead continue to fill my mind with thoughts of how my DNA seems to be getting all the action. Still, it continues to tear apart the beautiful mystery of a gentle caress; a study on if middle aged people can accurately describe those butterflies in their stomach. Even Tom Cruise and his pose of scientologists are getting in on the action.

- A recipe for "Supernatural Brownies" except it seems the writer forgot to include the name of his dealer.....

- This last topic of Nelly Furtado isn't from the Times, but from my own observations. It was a sad moment in Cleveland radio yesterday when I heard N.Furt's old song during her one-hit-wonder times before being pulling into the Timbaland/JT pop-o-sphere. "Turn off the Lights". As I listened, I reminisced about driving home from school senior year of high school with the windows down and music turned up, thinking only of my public school bad boy boyfriend (who now has a 3 year old son. Go figure) and the football game that weekend. The DJ must have been having the same Saved by the Bell flashbacks as me (it was a college station) as he said "how weird it is to hear and oldie like that" Oldie. Sigh. Nelly is at the top of her game, yet she already has a song that is considered, not yesterdays news, but a relic for college students. This is how quickly the pop curcuit moves, whether your on it or not. Nelly, after falling off the train momentarily and reinventing herself (don't get me started on that term) as a promiscuous girl, is now an artist that's talent is celebrated over 5 whole years. Such talent!

What is Community? The after-school special

Working at the gallery has lead me into the heart of "community", a word that I've always associated with surbanite moms getting together for Tupperware parties or the Friday Lenten fish fry at the church. But after only volunteering there 2 or 3 times, I'm seeing that what I am doing has nothing to do with "making sure nobody steals the art". In the 6 hours I have spent in the gallery, I have gotten 2 visitors. In both cases, the art itself was not the focus of their visit. They would politely stop in front of each sketch and oil painting; from the outside looking very involved and deep in thought over the colors and strokes, but inside I knew they had alternative reasons for come in. I know this because I have done it hundreds of time. (Going into American Eagle or Tower Records, perusing, trying to convey my intense interest in the subjects to the employees, in order to, wordlessly, show them my perfect match to their company, then timidly asking if they need summer help.) So these 2 people did the same, and I gave them their space to enjoy and recollect their thoughts. Then they both hesitantly approached me where I sit reading my Vogue article about the new biography on Denys Finch Hatton, the real life man behind Robert Redford's character in 'Out of Africa'. (1900's European settlers in Africa is slowing becoming my flavor of the week, replacing my love of Andy Warhol as I exhausted his life last month).

One man in his mid 60's started talked to me about how he used to paint back in the day in high school and college, but has redirected his passion to the jazz guitar. He wanted to know if we would be interested in having his jazz band play at opens or events. I excitedly emailed the owner, proud of doing my part to make this from-the-ground-up volunteer-run gallery into a thriving cultural haven.

Last night a woman came in, did the art-love walkabout and approached me about putting out some flyers for a local performing arts center. I told her visitors would probably be very interested in seeing their performances and she left a stack. I thought, with a hint of frustration for the woman's effort that we don't get much foot traffic around here to fill their auditorium. But then I stepped back, thinking about the man from last week. The point of this place isn't simply to look at art. It is using the art as a segway to bringing the artful talent of people together. This place is truly being built by people's passion. Nobody is getting paid, but the desire to see this place grow is enough to keep them coming back. The first day I was there, Kathy, a dedicated volunteer, told me that they hoped that opening this gallery would bring life back into a struggling, rough neighborhood. That they felt that this could be accomplished through art. When I heard it, I gave her a warm smile, thinking that there is nothing more refreshing than an idealist. But I regret ever looking down on her naïvety. She was right. People are coming out to help build this place into a place to visit, to live.

To see how this gallery, and adjoining cafe, is making a small footprint to start:

http://www.freetimes.com/story/4992

http://www.freetimes.com/dining_lead/1449