There are numerous people that live colorful and interesting lives that often go beyond our imagination, and, fortunately, there are numerous opportunities for those people. Especially in college, newsletters are flooded with opportunities and scholarships for those people with diverse, powerful, and interesting lives. But what about the rest of us?
After consulting with a friend, I think it's time to make a scholarship that goes to the most dull and boring people (citizens and permanent residents only). Of course, there are a lot of us. To narrow down the field, priority will be given to people who have demonstrably strong experience living vicariously through others. The application would be similar to normal college and scholarship applications, but written for someone else. Essay topics would ask the applicant to describe how someone they know has overcome diversity to become a better person, and ask to describe experiences that built that other person's character. The successful applicant will include constructive feedback and helpful questions they asked the person they lived vicariously through, along with how they sat there to watch, listen, and think about how great it would be to live that life, too.
I would rock that application.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Please note: This is fiction.
The doctor intently peered at a stack of yellow, pink and white papers on his clipboard. The clutter vaguely resembled someone's hair after a windstorm. He looked up at his patient, who sat awkwardly in a wheel chair that barely contained him. The patient's body pressed against the armrests as fat subtly rolled over the top.
"You're good to go." The doctor's voice echoed the monotony of an assembly-line worker faced with a countless, almost meaningless task into perpetuity. "Your artery is clear and flowing fine."
The man was wheeled away. The fat rippled beneath his chin in response to the movement.
The doctor walked up to me and again looked at his clipboard. "How do you feel?"
"I'll never be the same," I responded
His eyes moved up to peer at me through the space between his glasses and his rough eyebrows. His face remained pointed at the clipboard.
I felt my legs slide back under the chair I sat on. "I feel well."
"You've been here a while." He said as his eyes moved back to the clipboard.
"How do you decide when to send someone home? How do you know when someone is well again?"
He let his arms drop to his side and the clipboard dangled from his hand. "We do our best to help people, and when there's nothing more we can do, we send them on their way." He sighed and looked up at me, his head tilted slightly and his eyes softened. "Ideally, we help people be healthy so they can live productive and happy lives." I noticed a gray shade that seeped below his eyes, a hint at lost sleep.
"I feel ready to go, but this cost something that I'll never get back."
A group of people rushed down the nearby hallway. White coats and scrubs fluttered behind them as they propelled a machine before them.
"That's the process of growing older. Life and experience is not always free." I looked at the doctor's eyes that sat deep below his eyebrows. His brown irises surrounded a depth in his pupils that extended beyond where he stood and what he said. A lifetime of experiences and memories had passed through them. "I don't want to see you here again," he continued.
I chuckled at the thought of returning. "I don't think I'll take chances with anything that may send me back."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. You can do well, just take your time and be careful." He glanced at his clipboard. "I know I don't need to caution you."
He turned around and briskly walked away down the hall. He slowly passed through a sea of people with white and blue coats until I no longer saw him.
The doctor intently peered at a stack of yellow, pink and white papers on his clipboard. The clutter vaguely resembled someone's hair after a windstorm. He looked up at his patient, who sat awkwardly in a wheel chair that barely contained him. The patient's body pressed against the armrests as fat subtly rolled over the top.
"You're good to go." The doctor's voice echoed the monotony of an assembly-line worker faced with a countless, almost meaningless task into perpetuity. "Your artery is clear and flowing fine."
The man was wheeled away. The fat rippled beneath his chin in response to the movement.
The doctor walked up to me and again looked at his clipboard. "How do you feel?"
"I'll never be the same," I responded
His eyes moved up to peer at me through the space between his glasses and his rough eyebrows. His face remained pointed at the clipboard.
I felt my legs slide back under the chair I sat on. "I feel well."
"You've been here a while." He said as his eyes moved back to the clipboard.
"How do you decide when to send someone home? How do you know when someone is well again?"
He let his arms drop to his side and the clipboard dangled from his hand. "We do our best to help people, and when there's nothing more we can do, we send them on their way." He sighed and looked up at me, his head tilted slightly and his eyes softened. "Ideally, we help people be healthy so they can live productive and happy lives." I noticed a gray shade that seeped below his eyes, a hint at lost sleep.
"I feel ready to go, but this cost something that I'll never get back."
A group of people rushed down the nearby hallway. White coats and scrubs fluttered behind them as they propelled a machine before them.
"That's the process of growing older. Life and experience is not always free." I looked at the doctor's eyes that sat deep below his eyebrows. His brown irises surrounded a depth in his pupils that extended beyond where he stood and what he said. A lifetime of experiences and memories had passed through them. "I don't want to see you here again," he continued.
I chuckled at the thought of returning. "I don't think I'll take chances with anything that may send me back."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. You can do well, just take your time and be careful." He glanced at his clipboard. "I know I don't need to caution you."
He turned around and briskly walked away down the hall. He slowly passed through a sea of people with white and blue coats until I no longer saw him.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Coming to select roads near you
On December 17, Tron will return to theaters. It is also the day I fly home for Christmas. Coincidence? I THINK NOT!
I intended to take the more comfortable and relaxing train home. However, my intention to take a route established and used as a reasonable form of transportation for decades was foiled by something called "ridiculously expensive tickets." Now, I have no choice but head to the airport to reclaim transportation that rightfully belongs to me. However, I fear a nemesis waits for me there. One that will disassemble my rights in a body scanner and transport them to a computer. I will find myself in a desolate land and faced with a choice that will guide my destiny: join the masses of cars and the deterioration of personal freedoms, or fight for my life unshielded on the ruthless streets with only a light-cycle (and by light-cycle, I mean a bike that has a light on it). Can I survive the fight for my life, break free from the system, and return victorious to slightly-healthier and responsible living to reclaim what is rightfully mine? or will I join the ranks of the fallen and forgotten? Find out on December 17, when we discover if Amtrak can reasonably ship a bicycle on a train that I am not on.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Bike venting: if only we could harness its energy
I've spent quite some time biking on all sorts of roads in all sorts of conditions on the West Coast. In this time, I've come to notice some extraordinary behavior by people driving cars. Granted, most people are respectful and do not want to cause any harm, but it only takes one malicious or careless person in a car to cause terror. In fact, I have at times felt that my situation on a bike in fast traffic is like having someone with a gun to the back of my head (I have never been in that situation, I just imagine how it might feel). It is terrifying, and it is not uncommon for me to find myself in situations where I feel genuine concern for my life. All it takes is one person with a car to be fed up with me or just the concept of a bike on a road, press the gas pedal a bit or tap the steering wheel, and it's curtains for me. In many cases that person with a car can probably then quickly drive off with no consequences. The worst part is how common that situation occurs. This does not even touch on the consequences of inattentive drivers.
If people on bikes are not already vulnerable enough on roads, the media is happy to fuel the flames. Not surprisingly, I find that after a media-outlet has a big anti-bike tirade, people become more aggressive. Sure, there is freedom of speech, but when someone spews hatred and literally encourages people to "run them [me?] over" or writes irresponsible and factually questionable articles (bikes freeload, don't pay taxes, take away resources from cars, slow traffic, etc. [For the record, in Oregon and at least many other states, bike riders actually unfairly subsidize car infrastructure, reduce traffic, save public money, etc.]) that rile people up against other people circumstantially on a bicycle, the consequences can get very real and it is scary.
In part to vent, and maybe to at least get the ideas out there, I have written down many of the recurring uncomfortable situations I find myself in.
First is the classic "right-hook" where a person in a car may pull up to my left side and suddenly make a right turn directly in front of me into an intersection or driveway, which nearly puts me over the hood of the car. The incredible thing about this is the person in the car almost always does this shortly after coming up from behind me, so surely they could have seen me in the lane.
The other classic is the "dooring." Someone parks their car, and immediately pops open the door. No need to check for traffic because there is a bike lane next to a car? Now the person on the bike, who sometimes has only a meter or less to react, has a door suddenly blocking the bike lane.
When someone approaches a stop sign at an arterial, why stop at the sign? They just blow across the cross walk and into the bike lane where there is a better view of traffic, often they don't even check for traffic until in the bike lane. This leaves me with two options: slam on the breaks, or swerve into adjacent traffic, both of which I've had to employ. My fear, though, is that I may not see it coming and find myself tapped into and under the wheels of adjacent traffic.
As a similar case of right-hooks, some people gun their engine to get around and me, cut in front with only a couple feet to spare, and immediately slam on the breaks and come to a near stop to make a right turn. This leaves me scared, from the car maneuvering so close to me, shaken from needing to react quickly with little room for error, and frustrated as I feel like I am treated with the same dignity as a dead animal on the side of the road.
There is the common buzzing, by people in cars. I may be in the bike lane, and rather than giving me a couple feet of space, the driver actually moves his or her car into the bike lane! blowing by inches from my body. Yeah, that really showed me... how dare I ride a bike in a bike lane around him/her. A similar situation occurs when I am in the right lane of an /empty/ 4 lane road, and rather than change to the left lane and safely pass, the person decides to pass me at an excessive speed inches from my body. The worst is that I can hear it coming, and sometimes it is not always clear if they intend to hit me or not. I once looked back when I heard a car doing this only to see the person gun their car as they pointed it directly at me, and swerve around me at the very last possible moment. There is nothing I can do (even if I wanted to there is often a curb or parked cars that block any easy escape), but ride as a straight as possible. Any twitch or sneeze could get me clipped by the person's all-too-close mirror.
This is not without irony, as I often catch up with these people at the next light, or they might have bumper stickers telling me that Jesus loves me, or that I should be pro-life. The two pro-life instances blow my mind. Every life is valuable, except for that of someone on a bicycle?
Most 18-wheelers are courteous and responsible. But that doesn't mean I haven't had an 18-wheeler pull up along side me and slowly move into me in an uncomfortable act of aggression. Those bolts on the front wheel spinning a foot or two from my face are not very friendly. Logging trucks and their drivers however have lead to the scariest experiences. I often encounter them on two-lane back-country roads. They blow by and give me a couple feet of clearance if they feel generous, and when they pass there is a wind that sucks me in. The scary part is how the rear wheels are unprotected. If I get sucked in too far, there is nothing to stop those wheels from going right over me.
There seems to be a prejudice that bikes only go 5 to 10 mph, which becomes dangerous as cars see me and assume they can turn left, pull out in front of me, or many other maneuvers that they can not actually perform safely. In fact, I am often going 20 mph or more and find myself forced to take quick evasive action. This is even more ridiculous as cars seem to feel compelled to pass a bicycle no matter what. I once was descending a hill at around 30 mph in a 25 mph speed zone. There were excessive blind corners and no safe passing areas. Yet the person in the car behind me decided to blow by me anyways, well into the opposite lane where oncoming traffic may be just around the corner, and way over the speed limit, only to immediately slow down to the same speed I was traveling when they finished the pass! I had to actually slow down behind the car for the rest of the descent. In fact, dangerous passes are pretty common all around. If someone passes me when I am in a car, they generally wait until the coast is clear, there is a good sight-line, and they do it safely. If someone passes me when I am on a bike, they often do it immediately, without slowing, and at great peril to everyone on the road. If the person has to wait a few seconds, they express their anger by buzzing me when they can get past.
There are the people who yell things at me from their car. Sometimes he/she may think he/she is funny or witty, sometimes he/she wants me to know how much he/she hates me because at the moment I have chosen to sit on a bicycle, and sometimes: who knows what the motivation is. Now I am all for more person to person interaction, but when one person is in a car and one isn't there is a power paradigm that is impossible to ignore. The person in the car has the ability to kill or seriously injure me at will, roll up the window and drown me out with music, or drive away and leave me. I, on the other hand, can do none of that. I only have better maneuverability and the ability to get on a sidewalk that may be nearby.
All of these situations can be nerve-wracking, and leave me sad that I can not peacefully enjoy a bike ride, and dismayed that people who do not even know me want to hurt or intimidate me for no other reason than I am on a bicycle. Have we really reached the point where it is acceptable for someone to threaten another person's life because he or she has been inconvenienced or slowed down for a few seconds?
So why do I tolerate this and continue to ride a bike? Is the joy I get from riding as a way of life really worth it? Although I stand my ground in traffic, the fear I experience is very real. People may try to intimidate or scare me away or off the road, but it is almost always a bluff, and it is a vocal minority. Just like a bully on a playground, the winning or losing is not controlled by the bully, but by the victim.
After this direct, unsheltered experience of how destructive a culture of automobiles can be, it is overwhelmingly clear to me that no reasonable standard of ethics can possibly justify the way we treat each other with automobiles, or the consequences of their excessive usage. I do not want to take part in this continual dangerous and destructive habit. Even if I did crack and turn solely to cars, it would statistically be the most likely thing to kill me.
What can I do? Not a whole lot except act respectfully and responsibly in a way I believe in. Maybe I can help at least some people see my side of traffic. Sometimes, when I roll up to a light next to someone who moments ago tried to intimidate me or threaten my life, the person looks embarrassed and ashamed, sometimes the person looks angry and spiteful, and sometimes the person looks spoiled and vain. I am generally left to feel angry, frustrated and scared.
If people on bikes are not already vulnerable enough on roads, the media is happy to fuel the flames. Not surprisingly, I find that after a media-outlet has a big anti-bike tirade, people become more aggressive. Sure, there is freedom of speech, but when someone spews hatred and literally encourages people to "run them [me?] over" or writes irresponsible and factually questionable articles (bikes freeload, don't pay taxes, take away resources from cars, slow traffic, etc. [For the record, in Oregon and at least many other states, bike riders actually unfairly subsidize car infrastructure, reduce traffic, save public money, etc.]) that rile people up against other people circumstantially on a bicycle, the consequences can get very real and it is scary.
In part to vent, and maybe to at least get the ideas out there, I have written down many of the recurring uncomfortable situations I find myself in.
First is the classic "right-hook" where a person in a car may pull up to my left side and suddenly make a right turn directly in front of me into an intersection or driveway, which nearly puts me over the hood of the car. The incredible thing about this is the person in the car almost always does this shortly after coming up from behind me, so surely they could have seen me in the lane.
The other classic is the "dooring." Someone parks their car, and immediately pops open the door. No need to check for traffic because there is a bike lane next to a car? Now the person on the bike, who sometimes has only a meter or less to react, has a door suddenly blocking the bike lane.
When someone approaches a stop sign at an arterial, why stop at the sign? They just blow across the cross walk and into the bike lane where there is a better view of traffic, often they don't even check for traffic until in the bike lane. This leaves me with two options: slam on the breaks, or swerve into adjacent traffic, both of which I've had to employ. My fear, though, is that I may not see it coming and find myself tapped into and under the wheels of adjacent traffic.
As a similar case of right-hooks, some people gun their engine to get around and me, cut in front with only a couple feet to spare, and immediately slam on the breaks and come to a near stop to make a right turn. This leaves me scared, from the car maneuvering so close to me, shaken from needing to react quickly with little room for error, and frustrated as I feel like I am treated with the same dignity as a dead animal on the side of the road.
There is the common buzzing, by people in cars. I may be in the bike lane, and rather than giving me a couple feet of space, the driver actually moves his or her car into the bike lane! blowing by inches from my body. Yeah, that really showed me... how dare I ride a bike in a bike lane around him/her. A similar situation occurs when I am in the right lane of an /empty/ 4 lane road, and rather than change to the left lane and safely pass, the person decides to pass me at an excessive speed inches from my body. The worst is that I can hear it coming, and sometimes it is not always clear if they intend to hit me or not. I once looked back when I heard a car doing this only to see the person gun their car as they pointed it directly at me, and swerve around me at the very last possible moment. There is nothing I can do (even if I wanted to there is often a curb or parked cars that block any easy escape), but ride as a straight as possible. Any twitch or sneeze could get me clipped by the person's all-too-close mirror.
This is not without irony, as I often catch up with these people at the next light, or they might have bumper stickers telling me that Jesus loves me, or that I should be pro-life. The two pro-life instances blow my mind. Every life is valuable, except for that of someone on a bicycle?
Most 18-wheelers are courteous and responsible. But that doesn't mean I haven't had an 18-wheeler pull up along side me and slowly move into me in an uncomfortable act of aggression. Those bolts on the front wheel spinning a foot or two from my face are not very friendly. Logging trucks and their drivers however have lead to the scariest experiences. I often encounter them on two-lane back-country roads. They blow by and give me a couple feet of clearance if they feel generous, and when they pass there is a wind that sucks me in. The scary part is how the rear wheels are unprotected. If I get sucked in too far, there is nothing to stop those wheels from going right over me.
There seems to be a prejudice that bikes only go 5 to 10 mph, which becomes dangerous as cars see me and assume they can turn left, pull out in front of me, or many other maneuvers that they can not actually perform safely. In fact, I am often going 20 mph or more and find myself forced to take quick evasive action. This is even more ridiculous as cars seem to feel compelled to pass a bicycle no matter what. I once was descending a hill at around 30 mph in a 25 mph speed zone. There were excessive blind corners and no safe passing areas. Yet the person in the car behind me decided to blow by me anyways, well into the opposite lane where oncoming traffic may be just around the corner, and way over the speed limit, only to immediately slow down to the same speed I was traveling when they finished the pass! I had to actually slow down behind the car for the rest of the descent. In fact, dangerous passes are pretty common all around. If someone passes me when I am in a car, they generally wait until the coast is clear, there is a good sight-line, and they do it safely. If someone passes me when I am on a bike, they often do it immediately, without slowing, and at great peril to everyone on the road. If the person has to wait a few seconds, they express their anger by buzzing me when they can get past.
There are the people who yell things at me from their car. Sometimes he/she may think he/she is funny or witty, sometimes he/she wants me to know how much he/she hates me because at the moment I have chosen to sit on a bicycle, and sometimes: who knows what the motivation is. Now I am all for more person to person interaction, but when one person is in a car and one isn't there is a power paradigm that is impossible to ignore. The person in the car has the ability to kill or seriously injure me at will, roll up the window and drown me out with music, or drive away and leave me. I, on the other hand, can do none of that. I only have better maneuverability and the ability to get on a sidewalk that may be nearby.
All of these situations can be nerve-wracking, and leave me sad that I can not peacefully enjoy a bike ride, and dismayed that people who do not even know me want to hurt or intimidate me for no other reason than I am on a bicycle. Have we really reached the point where it is acceptable for someone to threaten another person's life because he or she has been inconvenienced or slowed down for a few seconds?
So why do I tolerate this and continue to ride a bike? Is the joy I get from riding as a way of life really worth it? Although I stand my ground in traffic, the fear I experience is very real. People may try to intimidate or scare me away or off the road, but it is almost always a bluff, and it is a vocal minority. Just like a bully on a playground, the winning or losing is not controlled by the bully, but by the victim.
After this direct, unsheltered experience of how destructive a culture of automobiles can be, it is overwhelmingly clear to me that no reasonable standard of ethics can possibly justify the way we treat each other with automobiles, or the consequences of their excessive usage. I do not want to take part in this continual dangerous and destructive habit. Even if I did crack and turn solely to cars, it would statistically be the most likely thing to kill me.
What can I do? Not a whole lot except act respectfully and responsibly in a way I believe in. Maybe I can help at least some people see my side of traffic. Sometimes, when I roll up to a light next to someone who moments ago tried to intimidate me or threaten my life, the person looks embarrassed and ashamed, sometimes the person looks angry and spiteful, and sometimes the person looks spoiled and vain. I am generally left to feel angry, frustrated and scared.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Red White and Blue: The true colors of the UK and her former imperial subjects
According to the BBC (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-11731014), the Pentagon spokesman said:
"There is no evidence to suggest it was anything other than an aeroplane."
I'm pretty sure the Pentagon spokesman, Col David Lapan, in all his red-white-and-blue (that's the American flag, not the union jack) did not say "aeroplane." He most certainly said "airplane," like any real American.
"There is no evidence to suggest it was anything other than an aeroplane."
I'm pretty sure the Pentagon spokesman, Col David Lapan, in all his red-white-and-blue (that's the American flag, not the union jack) did not say "aeroplane." He most certainly said "airplane," like any real American.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The trick is to act like everyone else
I stood on a street corner under Portland's night sky, paused in my evening commute, and chatted with a guy. After a few minutes of talk, it suddenly occurred to me: "What the heck is this guy doing in the middle of Portland wearing a gold-colored speedo and a red vest?" Of course, this was immediately followed by the thought "What the heck am I doing in the middle of Portland in skin-tight spandex with half a dozen flashing lights on me and my bike talking to a guy in a gold-colored speedo and red vest?" I immediately dismissed both thoughts and continued to chat.
I was lucky in Portland. I could walk into grocery stores, coffee shops, work, almost anywhere in spandex and no one would care or take notice. I am pretty sure everyone had that luxury, whether dressed as a zombie or a princess. In fact, the only people that I could consistently rely on to give me dirty looks were the supposedly progressive and accepting hippies at the local food co-op. Yeah, I'm still bitter about that.
In Seattle, however, the slightly "higher class" nature of the city (emphasis on slightly) is not quite the same. Now, when I walk into the activities center, surrounded by people who obviously spend time to look nice and attractive, I carry a Fresh Step kitty litter box converted into a pannier and I wear full spandex with a bright orange jersey that reads "Team S&M", and I feel a little self-conscious.
I was lucky in Portland. I could walk into grocery stores, coffee shops, work, almost anywhere in spandex and no one would care or take notice. I am pretty sure everyone had that luxury, whether dressed as a zombie or a princess. In fact, the only people that I could consistently rely on to give me dirty looks were the supposedly progressive and accepting hippies at the local food co-op. Yeah, I'm still bitter about that.
In Seattle, however, the slightly "higher class" nature of the city (emphasis on slightly) is not quite the same. Now, when I walk into the activities center, surrounded by people who obviously spend time to look nice and attractive, I carry a Fresh Step kitty litter box converted into a pannier and I wear full spandex with a bright orange jersey that reads "Team S&M", and I feel a little self-conscious.
Monday, October 18, 2010
My Law? Pretty please :)
As Godwin's Law states, "As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1."
After spending some time in the realm of science. I think I can safely propose an addition to that law: as any science related discussion lengthens, the probability of a reference to XKCD approaches 1.
For example, although it's not quite science-y, and a pretty one sided discussion: this blog, just now.
I also feel a bit guilty about this:
especially since I have a BA.
After spending some time in the realm of science. I think I can safely propose an addition to that law: as any science related discussion lengthens, the probability of a reference to XKCD approaches 1.
For example, although it's not quite science-y, and a pretty one sided discussion: this blog, just now.
I also feel a bit guilty about this:
especially since I have a BA.
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