WhatUpThen the Camper

WhatUpThen has decided to finish off graduate school with a bang. For all of studying and research on science education and forestry and environmental science and environmental justice, I've never been camping. In my room you won't find a folded-up tent, binoculars, a sleeping bag, spiffy New Balance cross-trainers or rain gear. And you sure as hell won't find a Nalgene bottle. Those things are incredibly obnoxious. Soon you will find most of those things in my apartment, though, because I'll need them for this monster 8-unit environmental science and resource management class that includes four weekend field trips. One is to San Juan Island and one is to the Olympic Mountains. I can't remember where the other two trips are and I couldn't even tell you where the first two are located since WhatUpThen isn't exactly outdoor-oriented.

But I'm not concerned, and doesn't it make sense to do this? We want our teachers (and other professionals) to have had experience doing the things they teach to others. One could be the master of X's and O's, but how could she (Good job, Stanford women!) coach a basketball team if she hasn't played on a team? Hmm...what's another example? Oh yeah...one could join with a political family through marriage and pay attention to national affairs while making movies in Hollywood and becoming a star, but how can you become Governor of California if you've never held public office? In fact, how can one even think he is capable of performing the job duties? Maybe they're not that tough?? Anyway, you get the point. This course is gonna be great and it really is necessary if I'm gonna exhort to students the importance of the natural world.

Incidentally, does anyone reading this have camping gear I can borrow? I'm talking tent, sleeping bag, binoculars, galoshes, a headlamp, a backpack...I don't even know what else. The way I figure it...I don't know you and you don't know me, but if you send me something relatively clean, I'll send it back to you in June with maybe $20 and a coupla lottery tickets. Can WhatUpThen build community or what?

Romance for the Condemned

One more article --> it's about women writing to and proposing marriage to Death Row inmates like Scott Peterson. It's a curious one, no doubt. If everI feel inadequate or unsure of myself, I'll be sure to reread this article to gain some confidence. Then again, any woman writing romantic letters to The Night Stalker has gotta be pretty hard up.

What's Wrong With Our Kids?

Joan Ryan column on the teenage girl who slashed the throat of a 75-year old woman in a nice Berkeley neighborhood. Attack seemed random. Not for gang initiation or for money. No bad blood between the girl and the elderly woman. Just unforeseeable craziness. The line from the column which hooked me is this one describing a burnt-out juvenile prosecutor:

"He is tired of kids like this girl coming into court without parents. He is tired of hearing rap lyrics that glorify self-centeredness and greed and brutality. He is tired of seeing the strange disconnect between a juvenile detainee's casual demeanor and the seriousness of the crime being charged."

Wouldn't you agree with him? You've just gotta shake your head sometimes.

Labels

Some things ought to come with a label just like the Parental Advisory sticker. I think any music that synthesizes vocals should be labeled. It's not to warn people of vocals from electronica bands like Air. If anything, Air purchases should be subsidized so that more people can listen and chill out a little bit. And certainly it's not to warn the public about a group like Zapp & Roger who use the talkbox. You remember those songs, right? More Bounce to the Ounce? I Wanna Be Your Man? If you're curious or clueless I'll send you a coupla mp3s. No, I'm talking about all of the pop stars who use the machine that can raise or lower your pitch. I mean, if taking steroids is cheating in baseball and in track (to use a timely reference) shouldn't pitch adjusters be considered cheating in singing? It's not destroying the world or anything but, seriously, isn't anyone else bothered by this? I'd imagine there are a ton of talented singers out there at their wit's end and ready to kill someone if they continue not to be recognized in favor of 15-year old girls with songs written for them and receiving digital vocal assistance. Maybe "kill" is a bit extreme. You've gotta excuse me, I've been watching The Shield season 3 on DVD for most of the afternoon.

Speaking of television, I caught that show Veronica Mars for the first time last Tuesday. It was totally implausible, of course...cameras hidden in staplers, teenagers throwing around several hundred dollars in cash, and I suspect that radio homing devices aren't quite as common as Hollywood would have us believe. Still, though, it was some great Nancy Drew-style investigative action. And entertaining. That's all you can ask for, right?

Rose thinks any album featuring a singing rapper (Andre 3000 on Roses, Eminem on Cleanin' Out My Closet) should have a bright red caution sticker no less than 2 inches diameter affixed to the covers of all such albums. Hell, I think so too.

There was a tampon brand in the drugstore I noticed today. No really, listen. It was in a brown box is the thing, so it caught my eye. And it wasn't Tampax or...or, um...lemme think...O.B.! It wasn't O.B., either. Have you ever seen a box of tampons that wasn't blue? Or like pink or something? I'd imagine the tampon market is a tough one to break into. Well, that's what I was thinking about today.

Watching Pros

Brian and I didn't actually go to the Warriors game a few nights ago. Instead we fired up the television and checked it out from his apartment. Not to attack the sanctity of a trip to the stadium or the arena but I'm beginning to think that if you have a nice TV, a nice couch and a Zesty Chicken Bowl from Taco Bell, that the stay-at-home game-watching experience is superior to the hassle of driving, parking, paying and sitting in the upper deck a mile away from the floor at the Coliseum. And it is the Warriors, after all.

We did miss out a little, though. The game we watched was the one against Dallas where Dunleavy went nuts after the bogus foul call and proceeded to yell, point and curse at the ref (One of life's simple pleasures is to read angry athletes' lips on TV), get ejected and take off his jersey and fling it into the crowd. It was clear on the screen that the crowd was going nuts. Hell, Brian and I were going nuts on the couch. The Black players on Dallas were laughing at this White guy showing some attitude. The fan who caught Dunleavy's jersey immediately put it on, covered himself with a coat and shot evil glances at anyone who looked in his direction. It was amazing. What a great night to have been at the arena. You never know when stuff like this will happen.

I don't know whether I think athletes have it hard or easy. Perhaps I should just say they have it different. With the Dunleavy thing, I realized how aptly named the Coliseum is. All these fans roaring because someone got ejected? How does that feel to be under the spotlight and cameras and pressure with so much noise and so many people egging you on several nights per week? Everyone (people you don't know, people you don't care to know, people you'll never meet) has an opinion about you that's unflappingly positive or negative based on the stereotypes of ten of thousands of people who came before you. Well, that part doesn't really count because everyone judges everyone else, regardless of athlete status. Anyway, it's crazy. Something the most of us just can't ever comprehend.

Totally unrelated: Saw Melinda & Melinda last night with Rose. It was entirely pretentious and enjoyable.

Placemarker

Oh, I'm so sorry for not posting. No one wants to hear excuses but I'm written so much on my notepad and I just can't find time to jump onto the computer except for times like this...at 2:57am when I'm just dying to go to bed. You know what, though? I'll compile all of this week's posts into a single, long kinda Spring Break journal once I get back to Seattle at the end of the week. You'll love it, I'm sure, and you'll continue to visit and bookmark and tell your friends, huh, huh??! Yeah, well, I'm gonna plop down now. Tonight was a nice night. I'll say something about it and tell some jokes and some helpful advice or something related to it later. Bueno.

P.S.: Reminder to self to download some music by Blondie.

Last Day

Back at the Stan-Stan, students customarily had three hours for finals. That was the assumption when I stepped in to take the wildlife biology exam at 8:30 this morning. But right around 9:05 the guy who told me the story about how he smashed his testicles on a stairway railing while trying to do tricks on his BMX got up and submitted his test. I believe in the abilities of all people, but let's just say I wouldn't have pegged this guy to finish a 3-hour exam in 30 minutes...well, not while I was still on page two. A mysterious seed of doubt had been planted in my mind, however, and it grew when a couple more students turned in their exams a few minutes later. It was time to go to the front of the room and take action.

Chris: [whisper] "How long do we have for this test?"
TA Proctor: "Ends at 10:30."

SHEEEEEEEIT.

So one hour for the first 2 pages, followed by one hour for the next 6. I know my responses for the questions I answered were all correct, but of course I didn't answer all of the questions. Once that building bell rings, other students flood into the classroom like male enhancement emails. What are they so excited about, anyway?

Well, enough about that. Quarter's over. Got to celebrate with some noontime basketball before work. Washington was playing, but there was no need to watch since it's the whole 1-seed versus 16-seed deal. Playing was a real delight, though. As many Eastern European guys as there are in the NBA and I don't think I've ever played with one...until today! He was our center; just like Zydrunas Illgauskas. Big and slow, yet powerful. He hit his jumpers, he made some passes that make you say "nifty" and he had some crazy little contortionist pivots to score. I love meeting people from outside the U.S. This guy kept talking to me about the status of the game:

"Maybe you should guard him. He is too quick for me."
"I got his arm before I got the ball."
"You pass to me after we switch."

Maybe I'm not communicating it right, but I was cracking up because I never have these little conversations while playing pickup with random gym guys. Maybe I was laughing because he was being so friendly (how horrible!). It reminds me of when the African guy walks up to me and asks me if I'm from Africa because I guess I look African. No, but I like eating at The Blue Nile? Maybe? Yes? Or maybe it was the general giddyness from it being the last day.

Reopening in 24 hours

You've all gotta excuse me. It's just that one of my more important final exam of recent memory happens tomorrow and I've tried to be single-tracked of mind of late. I can look into the future, however, and I envision a big-time blooger post WITH AUDIO coming tomorrow afternoon once the wildlife biology testing is over. That is, if I can recall all of the information that has been on the periphery these past few days.

Vanity Autumn Jackson

I think Autumn Jackson is the absolute coolest name a Black woman can have. It's expressive and nondescript at the same time. Wait...why only a Black woman? Anyone could have this name and it would be so, so cool! Where did this crazy thought come from? Well, I was jogging and I mistakenly put in an Air CD instead of the one of my fast-paced The Running Man mix CDs, so I was contemplating instead of grooving to the beat. Back in elementary school I had a puppy love crush on a girl named Autumn Jackson. The name was funktional even way back then. So, of course I googled it when I got home and found out it's also the name of the woman who tried to extort Bill Cosby. So, uh...yeah, that's great. It's clear that I have nothing to say tonight.

Wait, I take that back. I was talking to my boss about cartoons because he's a big cartoon and comic book fan. He says that Snorks came before Smurfs, as evidenced by the Smurfs' hats which have that strange forward bulge. He believes the Smurfs are hiding the snork remnant proboscis (or whatever) under that hat. He also said that there were exactly 100 Smurfs. I don't remember that, but then again I thought the Smurfs sucked.

Except for Vanity Smurf. That dude was G. The high, feminine and lilting voice. The hand mirror. And the flower in the hair, baby! But imagine if the Smurfs were a new cartoon for 2005. There would be a total uproar over "gay" Vanity Smurf. It's so true. That Parents Television Council would challenge the inclusion of the character and rail on and on about how Vanity Smurf is an attempt to corrupt the morals of our children when really it's a lesson in tolerance because Hefty Smurf was cool with Vanity Smurf and who knows, maybe they liked to spend their free time together. And so many people of my generation probably don't even remember Vanity Smurf so it really doesn't have an impact, anyway. So, my boss and I thought of that dumb little Spongebob hubbub and realized that, as minor as the issue is, it still signifies a step backward for U.S. society.

Vancouver Photo Blowout

Here are some photos from the trip to Vancouver. What a beautiful place, don't you think? Cities are so great.





What's up with the behind bars? Who the hell took this?!


Master P looks like he owns the joint.





All half-mast because four mounted police had just been killed.


Straight out of a John Hughes film. Weird (Computer) Science


Mayor McCheese


Check out the integrated staircase/wheelchair ramp!


Cityscape


One of many giant bridges connecting different parts of the city.

Although it does have more than its fair share of problems, I'm not someone who hates the United States. But I do have some fascination with other places. I fell in love with Costa Rica when I visited there and it wasn't for the rainforests or tourist attractions because I never actually made it to those places. Just the streets, you know? Everyday goings-on and the normal business of people delights me. Vancouver was much the same. I was hooked the moment I saw the cityscape made up of residential high-rises. It didn't look pretty or sleek or new...in fact, it looked drab and old and unfinished. But something about a city...there's a million lives being lived and million stories to be told.

Artists & Creativity

I totally went to Vancouver last weekend with Master P and his technogeek coworkers. That's not a slam on them, of course, but just a description. I borrowed a digital camera from student services at the university but, unbeknownst to me, the thing had only a 32 meg card in it, so I have only about 12 photos to put up here. Plus, I left the camera in Master P's car, so I have only about 0 photos to put up here. I'll get them up tomorrow and write a little something about our 15-hour trip to Canada.

So onto the post...

On the first Monday of each month students put on a show in the Ethnic Cultural Theatre aptly titled First Mondays. It's mostly a poetry thing like the Friday night show was. WhatUpThen barely made it there because he was tired after work and it didn't start until 9pm and, strangely, his back had been killing him all day. But I went because I hadn't seen it before. Boy, was it worth it.

Let me tell you, there are some mighty talented young men and women out there writing insightful social commentary, keeping the crowd chill as MCs and...playing upright bass. I gushed about the Friday show, too, and I'm not saying that these kids are all geniuses or the collective second coming of Langston Hughes, but it was good shit. Even more wonderful is to witness the result of the creative process. We see a 20-year old Black man (yes, it's WE ...I can't exempt myself from these presumptions) wearing basketball shorts and his hat cocked to the side and we don't realize he carries a notebook in his bag stained with lyrics that would force anyone to reconsider. It's the creativity and effort and art that I appreciate coming from these students. Do any of my friends write poetry? What are our creative outlets...I don't even know. I'll be sure to find out very soon.

On a semi-related note, I finally watched Ray last night. As soon as it was over I had to IM Master P and tell him what an incredible movie it was. So much of it made me want to cry/tell my Mom I lover her/sing/call you-know-who. It was Amadeus-ian, this portrait of an artistic genius splitting time between the tortured, exploited and likeable blind man and the savvy, awe-inspiring yet insufferable virtuoso. What's it like to be the best of the best? To be in the zone your whole life so that people barely understand you. I suppose when we encounter these special people we've just got to appreciate them and let them soar.

Identity Show

I haven't been thinking about it as much as before, but still I haven't skipped a day. Still I feel tread upon. Betrayed, then ignored. Still I am so angry. Still I do not understand.

But such is life, I suppose. Tonight was the MIXED UW Spoken Word Show. It was excellent. Especially those teenage poets with all of the angst and vivid emotional storytelling. Teenage angst is cliched, I know, but the way these kids channeled it into sound, clever writing and performed it onstage was tres impressive. Of course, it isn't a good idea to always wear one's emotions on one's sleeve, but I always appreciate people who can get angry, genuinely excited or otherwise passionate about something. Also performing at the show were Jevian (whom I've seen a lot of in the past week and a half, it seems. Interesting how different people just sorta ebb and flow in your life) and the dude who stands outside the student union every day with the giant wooden sign extolling (?) people to praise the Lord. He's like Y'Shua or The Hate Man in Berkeley...the same guy is in every big city, you've seen him. Anyway, he wasn't so bad, nor was he so frightening. Maybe next time I pass by him I'll congratulate him on his performance. You've always gotta give credit for a person who goes up on stage. Whether you're shaking or soaking it up it takes a lot of guts.

(Community) College Ball

Let's go back in time...

To last weekend, when I attended not one, but TWO community college basketball games. They were the men's and women's games between Shoreline Community College and Bellevue Community College. If you've never been to a community college game, let me tell you, it's just like high school except there are fewer people in the stands. So why the hell was I there? One of my students runs a dance team that performed at each halftime show and my job is to keep my finger on the pulse of the student, so I went. Also, she said there would be dancing girls and my imagination just ran with that one.

The games were entertaining and the shows were entertaining. One interesting thing, though...these are Seattle community colleges. However, I looked at the program for the men's game and one player was from Oakland Technical HS, one was from Skyline HS and one was from Alameda HS. Those high schools aren't in Seattle, they're right down in Oakland, California. I know this because, well...I can almost walk to Oakland (you know, if I ever decided to get some exercise) from the house I grew up in. Plus, I used to work at both Oakland Tech and Skyline. I had to run this by my sister because I didn't think that community colleges recruited students but it couldn't be a coincidence that 3 students from three different Oakland high schools were all at Shoreline CC. Rose said to me: "Didn't you see Hoop Dreams? The guy didn't pass his SAT or something so he had to go to that community college." But Rose, they don't offer scholarships, right? Aren't JC's only like 20 bucks a unit? "Living expenses, Boo," she said. She also told me that City College of San Francisco is a national football powerhouse among community colleges. Players who aren't quite blue chip or who can't get admitted directly to major college programs go to these places for two years, then transfer to more familiar programs to play sports. Somehow this never had occurred to me.

Anyway, learn something new every day. And now I need to watch Hoop Dreams again. I'll add that to the list including Bamboozled, Sideways and The Harder They Come.

One Man's Big Break

My sister sent me this link to a New York Times article. I guess each of us just has to find our own niche.