I realize my two-month summer hiatus. Since I last posted I've been to Guatemala as an amateur dentist with a church group, the Delaware Water Gap for some birthday camping (I turned 23 on July 12th), Cape May for a family beach vacation, Chicago for the Lollapalooza music festival, and Vermont to visit Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory, Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, my uncle's family, and my grandpa. A post dedicated to Guatemala is coming soon.
When my dad goes to the grocery store, he buys whatever is on sale and sometimes without looking at the label. Cereal was on sale this week. The box he brought home said: "NEW! Unfrosted" My cereal spirit has never been so dejected. Honestly, who wants UNfrosted Miniwheats? C'mon Kellogg's, you're breaking my heart (or maybe rescuing it).
As I was on the verge of closing down my AmeriCorps email account today, I came across peculiar message in my inbox:
Hi guys, Is the Andy White mentioned on your website the same Andy White who drummed on the first single of The Beatles? I gather he now lives in New Jersey. If so I would like to contact Andy for interview in a new book about The Beatles. Many thanks, Martin Creasy (author of Legends On Tour - The Pop Package Tours Of The 1960s).
Uh, yes Mister Creasy, in fact it was me who drummed on that first single of the Beatles. Any thoughts?
I've interacted with quite a few people younger than me over the last year or so. Some of them were in high school. Some were already in college. As a college graduate, I offered each of them these four pieces of advice:
1. Go to class --It's really easy to skip lectures, especially if you're hungover or it's a Friday, but why would you do that? When I was at Gettysburg College, a few of us did the calculations. Each lecture costs over $100, with one hundred being a conservative estimate. Why waste the money? Why waste the education? Because I went to class, I didn't have to spend as much time studying on my own and catching up on things I had missed and I ended up earning good grades. There are so many people out there who would be damn happy for the opportunity to go to college. If you are blessed with the privilege to be there, then GO. Woody Allen sums it up: "Eighty percent of success is showing up."
2. Do not go Greek --There are exceptions to this, but if your school is anything like Gettysburg, then you ought to stay away from the frats and sororities. In essence, each greek group has a personality and you get the chance to pick which one you want to be like. In your first year, you get to sample each one by way of parties and various events. By year's end, you probably have a good idea about which greek brothers or sisters you admire most and where you'd fit in best. Why become a greek clone when you can develop into your own person independently? Greek values, from my experience, are not very good ones. Getting shwasted and getting laid seem to be the things at the top of their to-do lists.
3. Study abroad --Do it. That's all I can say. You will certainly come back anew with a changed perspective about pretty much everything. It doesn't matter where you go, just GO. Mark Twain says it well: "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."
4. Choose courses based on the professor who teaches the course, not the subject of the course --I know for some majors you may not have a lot of flexibility when putting together a course schedule, but trust me on this one. If you've heard a bunch of your friends yapping about just how awesome their Sociology professor is, it's usually not by fluke. The approbation or negativity of the yaps is often a good indicator on how much you'll get out of a course. Students don't praise professors who suck (obviously), nor do they praise professors who don't give homework (they just say "easy A"). The students praise the ones who are intelligent, entertaining, and challenging--the ones who make you better. The enthusiasm of a professor can be contagious. You can tell which professors are there because they want to sculpt the young minds of the future and which ones are there because that's just what they were asked to do. Let's just say I learned more pertinent life skills in college from an engaging ceramics class than I did from a litany of poorly taught science courses.
Any other college tips you would add?
My AmeriCorps exit interview was last week. I am done with that now. These days I'm at home sifting through piles of AmeriCorps-related literature that have accumulated over the past year, extracting only the goods. I'm also preparing for the GRE test and beginning to search for graduate school programs. I would like to start in Fall 2009.
It's nice to be back.
Cheers,
Andy
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Oh, baby. Oh, doctor.
Last week a close colleague of mine named Beth brought her three-month-old daughter, Emily Elizabeth, into the office. There were only two of us up on the 3rd floor and we were mesmerized by this little miracle of a baby. At first Emily was asleep, silent and still. But then, a little saliva-enhanced gasp and she was awake! Look at those dark blue eyes! She would stare and dribble and smile and we would melt. Even complete strangers fall for babies. Babies have some real power. But for all the power they possess, they are whiny and virtually helpless. Beth was describing how Emily had colic, a condition where the infant cries or screams for hours at a time and there is nothing anyone can do to stop them. I don't think Beth slept much in the last three months. But even through those uncontrollable cries, there is still unconditional motherly love. Disregarding the colic, babies pretty much just eat, sleep, and poop--and yep, mama deals with it. We don't give moms enough credit. Please, let us thank our mothers.
I didn't get my mom a mother's day card or gift. Seeing baby Emily made me think about what my mom did for me when I was a wee thing so I gave her a nice hug when I got home. Then she told me a story about how she brought me to a work meeting when I was baby. I was making baby sounds and her intimidating, macho boss thought the sounds were coming from a kitten. The boss was fuming about the idea of a pet in the meeting and as he was about to blow, his eyes fell on little me, and then his anger was instantly quelled.
On the other side of the spectrum, my long-time pediatrician Dr. Levin died this week. He had some sort of blood cancer. This is the man who charted my growth, watched me mature. I remember he did a spot on Donald Duck impersonation. That's how I identified him. But I was frightened of him as a little one. One time he reached down to pick me up, but I clenched my small fingers around the leg of a nearby chair. Dr. Levin still proceeded to lift me, but when he did, the whole chair went airborne. I was a strong baby.
Dr. Levin was also the one who to make a diagnosis about my hair loss ailment. He incorrectly prescribed Nizoral, an anti-fungal shampoo. It just shows that you can only see what you are prepared to see. Dr. Levin never read the chapter about Alopecia Areata too closely, I suppose. I've learned since that the kind I have is more of a mental condition, and in the same family as obsessive compulsive disorder. It is something that defines my character. It's called perfectionism and sometimes it prevents me from trying new things. I always want to be perfect at the outset, so I tend to avoid bouts with imperfection. Because I know this about myself, I combat it by blindly signing up for adventures. My next adventure is a ten-day service trip down to Guatemala with my church. I leave on June 26th. I'll tell you all about it.
Life is short, sweet, beautiful, and fragile. Babies are born. Doctors die. And golly gee, go give your mom a hug.
Cheers,
Andy
I didn't get my mom a mother's day card or gift. Seeing baby Emily made me think about what my mom did for me when I was a wee thing so I gave her a nice hug when I got home. Then she told me a story about how she brought me to a work meeting when I was baby. I was making baby sounds and her intimidating, macho boss thought the sounds were coming from a kitten. The boss was fuming about the idea of a pet in the meeting and as he was about to blow, his eyes fell on little me, and then his anger was instantly quelled.
On the other side of the spectrum, my long-time pediatrician Dr. Levin died this week. He had some sort of blood cancer. This is the man who charted my growth, watched me mature. I remember he did a spot on Donald Duck impersonation. That's how I identified him. But I was frightened of him as a little one. One time he reached down to pick me up, but I clenched my small fingers around the leg of a nearby chair. Dr. Levin still proceeded to lift me, but when he did, the whole chair went airborne. I was a strong baby.
Dr. Levin was also the one who to make a diagnosis about my hair loss ailment. He incorrectly prescribed Nizoral, an anti-fungal shampoo. It just shows that you can only see what you are prepared to see. Dr. Levin never read the chapter about Alopecia Areata too closely, I suppose. I've learned since that the kind I have is more of a mental condition, and in the same family as obsessive compulsive disorder. It is something that defines my character. It's called perfectionism and sometimes it prevents me from trying new things. I always want to be perfect at the outset, so I tend to avoid bouts with imperfection. Because I know this about myself, I combat it by blindly signing up for adventures. My next adventure is a ten-day service trip down to Guatemala with my church. I leave on June 26th. I'll tell you all about it.
Life is short, sweet, beautiful, and fragile. Babies are born. Doctors die. And golly gee, go give your mom a hug.
Cheers,
Andy
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Time, Money, Energy
You can never have all three.
Today, I went to a Rain Garden/Bioretention Symposium in New Brunswick where I met an 80 year old man. Since he is retired and essentially unoccupied during weekdays, the Montgomery Township (Robbily Bobbles Connacher's township!) Environmental Commission selected him to go as their representative. The man had just returned from Paris. He said that after converting euros to dollars and liters to gallons, gas costs over $9.00 per gallon there. Rather than driving, he said there was a nifty rent-a-bike service. It's as simple as: you swipe your plastic, the bike unlocks from the rack, you ride it to your destination, dock it, and swipe again. And the rental converts to something like 50 cents per hour. Exercise, no carbon emissions, convenient, and inexpensive. What a concept!
"Why did you choose Paris?" I asked the man.
"Because I likes it there," he slurred slowly in a viscous eastern european/russian accent.
"And I am retired so I haves the time and money," he added.
"Well, where should I go?" I asked.
"Anyvere...go anyvere...but do not go by yourself. Go with friends."
"Anywhere?"
"Have you been to Europe?"
"No."
"Go dere. Go soon while you are young." His grey eyes were shiny and he put up three fingers.
"Time, money, energy," he said counting them off. "In life, dere are three things--but you can never have all three. Ven you are young, you have time and energy, but no money. Ven you are older, you have money and energy, but no time. Ven you are even older, like me, you have time and money, but no energy."
I laughed and asked, "So which one is the worst?"
"The last one," he said matter-of-factly.
It was hard to take him seriously though. His off-kilter tuft of combed-over hair had a distracting, comical personality. Tuft aside, I like his insight. We all know the mantra of economics 101 even if we've never been to a lecture: Time=Money. And you can't have both.
This old man brought energy into play. Cherish the energy we have. Expend it everyday for the common good. We are young.
With boundless liveliness,
Andy
Today, I went to a Rain Garden/Bioretention Symposium in New Brunswick where I met an 80 year old man. Since he is retired and essentially unoccupied during weekdays, the Montgomery Township (Robbily Bobbles Connacher's township!) Environmental Commission selected him to go as their representative. The man had just returned from Paris. He said that after converting euros to dollars and liters to gallons, gas costs over $9.00 per gallon there. Rather than driving, he said there was a nifty rent-a-bike service. It's as simple as: you swipe your plastic, the bike unlocks from the rack, you ride it to your destination, dock it, and swipe again. And the rental converts to something like 50 cents per hour. Exercise, no carbon emissions, convenient, and inexpensive. What a concept!
"Why did you choose Paris?" I asked the man.
"Because I likes it there," he slurred slowly in a viscous eastern european/russian accent.
"And I am retired so I haves the time and money," he added.
"Well, where should I go?" I asked.
"Anyvere...go anyvere...but do not go by yourself. Go with friends."
"Anywhere?"
"Have you been to Europe?"
"No."
"Go dere. Go soon while you are young." His grey eyes were shiny and he put up three fingers.
"Time, money, energy," he said counting them off. "In life, dere are three things--but you can never have all three. Ven you are young, you have time and energy, but no money. Ven you are older, you have money and energy, but no time. Ven you are even older, like me, you have time and money, but no energy."
I laughed and asked, "So which one is the worst?"
"The last one," he said matter-of-factly.
It was hard to take him seriously though. His off-kilter tuft of combed-over hair had a distracting, comical personality. Tuft aside, I like his insight. We all know the mantra of economics 101 even if we've never been to a lecture: Time=Money. And you can't have both.
This old man brought energy into play. Cherish the energy we have. Expend it everyday for the common good. We are young.
With boundless liveliness,
Andy
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Leave the Light On
OK, I've been remiss in my duties as a blogger. But I am back now.
For starters, there is Hillary Clinton. She is running until the end. It's like a game of poker and you know you should fold, but then you think maybe the river card will bridge the gap and you'll get that unlikely straight. But let me tell you, I think her staying in the race is a good thing. First, it's getting more democratic voters registered. Young people, black people, educated white people...yeah all of those and more. And Hillary's campaign message has sort of changed. It's not all about Obama being inexperienced and how she's the stronger candidate. It's more about how she'll support the democratic nominee in November and a positive shout out for the the Dems. Having Obama and Hillary campaign in all these states is like double the press for the democrats--a wonderful, liberal two-headed monster.
I should just say here that I enjoy John McCain's hunch. No, not his political instincts, but rather the terrific hunch on his back. I just find his posture and gesticulations to be hilarious.
I got this book from the library, Mythology by Edith Hamilton. She says in the intro how the Greek Gods were corrupt. "Almost every one of the radiant divinities could act cruelly or contemptibly," she says. I mean, the Greeks worshiped these misbehaved deities. But shouldn't the Gods be perfect? Shouldn't they be role models for the mortals? This makes me think of other notorious people that we praise, like Benjamin Franklin and most of our other lauded forefathers. By indulging in booze, sex, partying and drugs does that make us God-like? Personally, I have this overwhelming moral compass that just pours on the guilt if I do all that stuff. To me, the instant pleasure isn't as satisfying as the assertive sense of self-control and the ability to abstain. I guess I'm a mere mortal.
I went to Gettysburg twice since my last post. The first time was for Springfest--alumni get free beers. I met my bud, Agatha, in her extravagant office in the admissions building before going to a Faculty Social Hour in Weidensall. The wine and appetizers were for free and I certainly had some. From then on, the night was good. It was like old Gburg times, bouncing around from room to room, bar to bar, just walkin' all over town and campus. Springfest, with featured act Rahzel, was just alright. I was more happy to socialize with my younger Gettysburg friends. The fact I still knew a large handful of people confirmed that I belonged there. The visit was legit.
I cruised right on back to Gettysburg the following weekend, my first time doing all the driving, all six hours. I was content to get a smoothie and a coffee at my beloved Ragged Edge and buy a bottle of local red wine from this odd antique shop annex, but this weekend was different than the last. All my lovely acquaintences were all shut up inside their rooms pounding out papers or pulling their hair out over final exams. Rob, Liz, Morgan, and I saw The National at Messiah College that Saturday night. Best show in quite a while for me. Whatever potential music has or whatever it's supposed to do, The National accomplished just that that evening--busted through the sound barrier and took me to another place. That night I crashed at Morgan's Quarry apartment. It was kind of her to let me stay.
Those last visits, I feel, were the capstone, the lid screwed onto the jar of my Gettysburg life. My only connection to Gettysburg now is a few people and a few professors, but both parties know it's not really worth six driving hours to see each other. The town will forever have a charm about it, but the chief Gettysburg legacy is undoubtedly my relationships with the people I met there. And maybe Steve Gimbel's blog, too. But that's all.
AmeriCorps is almost up. I plan to be done before the end of July. All I have left requirement-wise is about 20 stream monitoring assessments ( you can bang out 4 in a day) and a couple volunteer trainings. My problem is that I sign up for all these other things like field trips at Duke Farms, the Envirothon, the BioBlitz, the Rain Garden/Bioretention Research Symposium, etc. These are all welcome, awesome distractions, but I really ought to get my priorities straight and just do what's asked of me. They'll stop sending stipend paychecks on July 20th.
On Thursday night this week, Sam and I had the privilege of sitting in the second row of a Chris Smither concert at the Trenton War Memorial. The man has a most expressive face and a most impressive finger picking style, not to mention his wowzer philosophical lyrics written with a dash of laugh. He was out shaking hands with everybody during the intermission. Mr. Smither even signed a CD for me! He loves his fans. What a guy, that Chris Smither. I'll leave you with some of his words...
If I were young again I'd pay attention,
To that little-known dimension,
The taste of endless time.
It's like water,
It runs right through our fingers,
But the flavor of it lingers,
Like a rich red wine.
In those days we were single,
We lived 'em one by one,
Now we hardly see 'em,
They don't walk, they run,
But I got plenty left I've set my sight on,
Don't wait up, leave the light on
I'll be home soon.
Forward-looking and hopeful,
Andy
For starters, there is Hillary Clinton. She is running until the end. It's like a game of poker and you know you should fold, but then you think maybe the river card will bridge the gap and you'll get that unlikely straight. But let me tell you, I think her staying in the race is a good thing. First, it's getting more democratic voters registered. Young people, black people, educated white people...yeah all of those and more. And Hillary's campaign message has sort of changed. It's not all about Obama being inexperienced and how she's the stronger candidate. It's more about how she'll support the democratic nominee in November and a positive shout out for the the Dems. Having Obama and Hillary campaign in all these states is like double the press for the democrats--a wonderful, liberal two-headed monster.
I should just say here that I enjoy John McCain's hunch. No, not his political instincts, but rather the terrific hunch on his back. I just find his posture and gesticulations to be hilarious.
I got this book from the library, Mythology by Edith Hamilton. She says in the intro how the Greek Gods were corrupt. "Almost every one of the radiant divinities could act cruelly or contemptibly," she says. I mean, the Greeks worshiped these misbehaved deities. But shouldn't the Gods be perfect? Shouldn't they be role models for the mortals? This makes me think of other notorious people that we praise, like Benjamin Franklin and most of our other lauded forefathers. By indulging in booze, sex, partying and drugs does that make us God-like? Personally, I have this overwhelming moral compass that just pours on the guilt if I do all that stuff. To me, the instant pleasure isn't as satisfying as the assertive sense of self-control and the ability to abstain. I guess I'm a mere mortal.
I went to Gettysburg twice since my last post. The first time was for Springfest--alumni get free beers. I met my bud, Agatha, in her extravagant office in the admissions building before going to a Faculty Social Hour in Weidensall. The wine and appetizers were for free and I certainly had some. From then on, the night was good. It was like old Gburg times, bouncing around from room to room, bar to bar, just walkin' all over town and campus. Springfest, with featured act Rahzel, was just alright. I was more happy to socialize with my younger Gettysburg friends. The fact I still knew a large handful of people confirmed that I belonged there. The visit was legit.
I cruised right on back to Gettysburg the following weekend, my first time doing all the driving, all six hours. I was content to get a smoothie and a coffee at my beloved Ragged Edge and buy a bottle of local red wine from this odd antique shop annex, but this weekend was different than the last. All my lovely acquaintences were all shut up inside their rooms pounding out papers or pulling their hair out over final exams. Rob, Liz, Morgan, and I saw The National at Messiah College that Saturday night. Best show in quite a while for me. Whatever potential music has or whatever it's supposed to do, The National accomplished just that that evening--busted through the sound barrier and took me to another place. That night I crashed at Morgan's Quarry apartment. It was kind of her to let me stay.
Those last visits, I feel, were the capstone, the lid screwed onto the jar of my Gettysburg life. My only connection to Gettysburg now is a few people and a few professors, but both parties know it's not really worth six driving hours to see each other. The town will forever have a charm about it, but the chief Gettysburg legacy is undoubtedly my relationships with the people I met there. And maybe Steve Gimbel's blog, too. But that's all.
AmeriCorps is almost up. I plan to be done before the end of July. All I have left requirement-wise is about 20 stream monitoring assessments ( you can bang out 4 in a day) and a couple volunteer trainings. My problem is that I sign up for all these other things like field trips at Duke Farms, the Envirothon, the BioBlitz, the Rain Garden/Bioretention Research Symposium, etc. These are all welcome, awesome distractions, but I really ought to get my priorities straight and just do what's asked of me. They'll stop sending stipend paychecks on July 20th.
On Thursday night this week, Sam and I had the privilege of sitting in the second row of a Chris Smither concert at the Trenton War Memorial. The man has a most expressive face and a most impressive finger picking style, not to mention his wowzer philosophical lyrics written with a dash of laugh. He was out shaking hands with everybody during the intermission. Mr. Smither even signed a CD for me! He loves his fans. What a guy, that Chris Smither. I'll leave you with some of his words...
If I were young again I'd pay attention,
To that little-known dimension,
The taste of endless time.
It's like water,
It runs right through our fingers,
But the flavor of it lingers,
Like a rich red wine.
In those days we were single,
We lived 'em one by one,
Now we hardly see 'em,
They don't walk, they run,
But I got plenty left I've set my sight on,
Don't wait up, leave the light on
I'll be home soon.
Forward-looking and hopeful,
Andy
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Change.
I firmly support Barack Obama for President of the United States. The United States.
Obama is intelligent, built with an honest moral foundation, and most importantly, he has the power to inspire an entire nation--to give us a kick in the ass. Every time I hear him, he makes me want to do better.
For two hours, I frivolously watched the results come in for the Pennsylvania democratic primary. Listening to the slew of various partisan commentators at MSNBC, I was able to paint a picture in my mind of what the two democratic nominees really mean, what their agenda is, what their intentions are. Hillary exuded the impression that she really wants to become president and that Obama is not as fit for the job. She mocked Obama's campaign slogan "Yes We Can" by saying to her supporters, "No, not 'yes we can,' Yes We Will!". Her campaign seems to be against Obama more than anything else and she acts like presidency is the ultimate goal, like her purpose is complete once she reaches the prized presidential destination.
Meanwhile, Obama clearly stands for hope, change, and unity. He does not give in to the squabble and bicker that frequents our notoriously corrupted political landscape. He is above that. He wants to be our president, bring us together, guide us back to being the United States, back to the exemplary country we once were. Obama has his heart and mind in the right place. Obama is for America.
If Hillary actually wants what's best for the democratic party, then she would stop polarizing the fuck out of it and concede to Obama. She is attempting to play her political cards and pull strings to rig this democratic primary, just like Dubya did to Gore in the presidential election back in 2000. She is vying, clawing at all costs, to get what is now pretty much an unattainable nomination. And now pundits are discrediting Obama because he was unable to send Hillary a fat"knock-out punch" tonight. They think that since he failed to show tenacity and grit in Pennsylvania, he will surely lose to Senator McCain come November.
There are major flaws with this presumption. Firstly, this was just one state: Pennsylvania. Secondly, they are forgetting that these were registered democrats voting in a democratic primary and that the majority of Hillary's supporters will likely back Obama, the democratic candidate, in the presidential election rather than resorting to the GOP's McCain. Thirdly, they are also forgetting about all the unregistered, unaffiliated moderates who, by default, abstain from voting in primaries. These independents will hopefully see the blatant remiss of the republican party in the last 7 years and favor the other option in our little dual-party system.
Anyway, the bottom line is, anybody will make a better president than "shrublet". In a recent poll among respected historians, more than two-thirds selected GWB as our worst president ever. A while back Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam sang a wonderful song on Vh1 storytellers that passionately conveys the popular feeling about the Bush Administration these days. Here is the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5q-Jnj-hZzs
When I was at Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival in June 2007, Wayne Coyne, frontman of the band Flaming Lips, went on a little political rant before a sea of thoroughly stoned youth. After pushing for us to vote and stay more politically attuned, he broke it down for us: "Guys, let's just not have another motherfucker in the white house, okay?" Agreed.
--------------
Obama has two decades of experience as a community organizer. He has made it clear that he believes change starts with grassroots groups and works it's way up rather than starting at the top and trickling down.
As an AmeriCorps watershed ambassador for 8 months, I've had a bit of a glimpse of what it means to be a part of a nonprofit, round up a community, and become more connected with the common folk. I think I understand where Obama's coming from and I'm beginning to believe that perhaps leading a grassroots style organization is for me. And lately, the idea of consigning myself to academia seems less appealing. I don't think I want to write stacks of detailed papers that only a few elite intellectuals would care about and fully understand. To me, the community approach carries much more weight. Literally, more weight when considering the 5 tons of litter the local volunteers pulled out at my stream cleanups this month.
I don't know what my plans are. AmeriCorps will be done in two months give or take, and I don't have anything lined up yet. I might find another environmental position in New Jersey. I might move to Vermont with my uncle and search for something up there. And I might just have to move to DC to volunteer to help with Obama's forthcoming campaign. I truly do not know.
But Mark Twain has offered me some reassurance about planning (or not planning) for the future. Recently, I bought Essays and Sketches of Mark Twain, essentially the glorified blog of beloved Samuel Clemens, and there is one particular sketch where he discusses his philosophy of Circumstance and Temperment. Circumstance is external, everything and everyone presented to you in your life. Temperment is internal, your gifts, skills, personality--all the characteristics that make you you. There is some elasticity for each of the two, but generally they are both fixed. You can change your Circumstance by maybe moving to a new place or maybe finding a new job, but you must consider costs, family, location and your qualifications, passion, desired wage. You can try to alter your Temperment, and maybe do it somewhat successfully, but there will always be your lingering residual demeanor underneath the new facade. I like to think of Circumstance and Temperment as set values on a figure, but you have some control with the range of the error bars.
When Circumstance and Temperment line up nicely, you get somebody like LeBron James. You're throwing down sweet dunks over your opponents, winning basketball games, and making millions of dollars. His physical attributes and athletic prowess (Temperment) match very well with the sport of basketball and the NBA (Circumstance), which gives him the financial means necessary to live the high life in our society. But LeBron got lucky. Most of us spend our lives looking for a perfect match, but can never really find it. That's because a perfect match often doesn't exist. We are all unique individuals with our own genetic code of which the possibilities are nearly infinite, so the chances that our specific code will match perfectly with what the world presents to us is quite remote.
But, we all end up settling into some kind of a match. And the match might not only with a certain activity or career, but also with another person or even a special place. Sometimes people forget about that. I know I did.
So we must accept that our Temperment has a limited capacity to fluctuate and that Circumstance can change at the drop of a fez. That's why we mustn't worry too hard about planning. If you don't make the search for something, you might miss out on what's out there, but at the same time, if you do go out searching, you might miss out on something even better had you only stayed put and waited. Opportunities come about and opportunities slip away, but, in the end, we all tend to latch onto a pretty good one and make ends meet.
Embracing the change,
Andy
Obama is intelligent, built with an honest moral foundation, and most importantly, he has the power to inspire an entire nation--to give us a kick in the ass. Every time I hear him, he makes me want to do better.
For two hours, I frivolously watched the results come in for the Pennsylvania democratic primary. Listening to the slew of various partisan commentators at MSNBC, I was able to paint a picture in my mind of what the two democratic nominees really mean, what their agenda is, what their intentions are. Hillary exuded the impression that she really wants to become president and that Obama is not as fit for the job. She mocked Obama's campaign slogan "Yes We Can" by saying to her supporters, "No, not 'yes we can,' Yes We Will!". Her campaign seems to be against Obama more than anything else and she acts like presidency is the ultimate goal, like her purpose is complete once she reaches the prized presidential destination.
Meanwhile, Obama clearly stands for hope, change, and unity. He does not give in to the squabble and bicker that frequents our notoriously corrupted political landscape. He is above that. He wants to be our president, bring us together, guide us back to being the United States, back to the exemplary country we once were. Obama has his heart and mind in the right place. Obama is for America.
If Hillary actually wants what's best for the democratic party, then she would stop polarizing the fuck out of it and concede to Obama. She is attempting to play her political cards and pull strings to rig this democratic primary, just like Dubya did to Gore in the presidential election back in 2000. She is vying, clawing at all costs, to get what is now pretty much an unattainable nomination. And now pundits are discrediting Obama because he was unable to send Hillary a fat"knock-out punch" tonight. They think that since he failed to show tenacity and grit in Pennsylvania, he will surely lose to Senator McCain come November.
There are major flaws with this presumption. Firstly, this was just one state: Pennsylvania. Secondly, they are forgetting that these were registered democrats voting in a democratic primary and that the majority of Hillary's supporters will likely back Obama, the democratic candidate, in the presidential election rather than resorting to the GOP's McCain. Thirdly, they are also forgetting about all the unregistered, unaffiliated moderates who, by default, abstain from voting in primaries. These independents will hopefully see the blatant remiss of the republican party in the last 7 years and favor the other option in our little dual-party system.
Anyway, the bottom line is, anybody will make a better president than "shrublet". In a recent poll among respected historians, more than two-thirds selected GWB as our worst president ever. A while back Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam sang a wonderful song on Vh1 storytellers that passionately conveys the popular feeling about the Bush Administration these days. Here is the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5q-Jnj-hZzs
When I was at Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival in June 2007, Wayne Coyne, frontman of the band Flaming Lips, went on a little political rant before a sea of thoroughly stoned youth. After pushing for us to vote and stay more politically attuned, he broke it down for us: "Guys, let's just not have another motherfucker in the white house, okay?" Agreed.
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Obama has two decades of experience as a community organizer. He has made it clear that he believes change starts with grassroots groups and works it's way up rather than starting at the top and trickling down.
As an AmeriCorps watershed ambassador for 8 months, I've had a bit of a glimpse of what it means to be a part of a nonprofit, round up a community, and become more connected with the common folk. I think I understand where Obama's coming from and I'm beginning to believe that perhaps leading a grassroots style organization is for me. And lately, the idea of consigning myself to academia seems less appealing. I don't think I want to write stacks of detailed papers that only a few elite intellectuals would care about and fully understand. To me, the community approach carries much more weight. Literally, more weight when considering the 5 tons of litter the local volunteers pulled out at my stream cleanups this month.
I don't know what my plans are. AmeriCorps will be done in two months give or take, and I don't have anything lined up yet. I might find another environmental position in New Jersey. I might move to Vermont with my uncle and search for something up there. And I might just have to move to DC to volunteer to help with Obama's forthcoming campaign. I truly do not know.
But Mark Twain has offered me some reassurance about planning (or not planning) for the future. Recently, I bought Essays and Sketches of Mark Twain, essentially the glorified blog of beloved Samuel Clemens, and there is one particular sketch where he discusses his philosophy of Circumstance and Temperment. Circumstance is external, everything and everyone presented to you in your life. Temperment is internal, your gifts, skills, personality--all the characteristics that make you you. There is some elasticity for each of the two, but generally they are both fixed. You can change your Circumstance by maybe moving to a new place or maybe finding a new job, but you must consider costs, family, location and your qualifications, passion, desired wage. You can try to alter your Temperment, and maybe do it somewhat successfully, but there will always be your lingering residual demeanor underneath the new facade. I like to think of Circumstance and Temperment as set values on a figure, but you have some control with the range of the error bars.
When Circumstance and Temperment line up nicely, you get somebody like LeBron James. You're throwing down sweet dunks over your opponents, winning basketball games, and making millions of dollars. His physical attributes and athletic prowess (Temperment) match very well with the sport of basketball and the NBA (Circumstance), which gives him the financial means necessary to live the high life in our society. But LeBron got lucky. Most of us spend our lives looking for a perfect match, but can never really find it. That's because a perfect match often doesn't exist. We are all unique individuals with our own genetic code of which the possibilities are nearly infinite, so the chances that our specific code will match perfectly with what the world presents to us is quite remote.
But, we all end up settling into some kind of a match. And the match might not only with a certain activity or career, but also with another person or even a special place. Sometimes people forget about that. I know I did.
So we must accept that our Temperment has a limited capacity to fluctuate and that Circumstance can change at the drop of a fez. That's why we mustn't worry too hard about planning. If you don't make the search for something, you might miss out on what's out there, but at the same time, if you do go out searching, you might miss out on something even better had you only stayed put and waited. Opportunities come about and opportunities slip away, but, in the end, we all tend to latch onto a pretty good one and make ends meet.
Embracing the change,
Andy
Monday, April 14, 2008
Photographs and Numbers
Councilman and Scout Leader pull out shopping cart from Rocky Brook in Hightstown.
Delaware-Raritan Canal cleanup in West Windsor.From Left: Me, Rob, Jim Gambino, Mike Hornsby (Chair of WW Environmental Commission)
with his wife, and Andrew Kulley.
Weighing trash bags at Shabakunk Creek near Lawrence Shopping Center.
Bulldozer at Mile Run-Hawthorne Park.
Stream litter at the dump site in Franklin Township.
Rutgers Korean Club displaying their stream cleanup t-shirts.8 towns.
237 volunteers.
Over 5 tons of litter removed from our local waterways.
A good many thanks to the Stony Brook-Millstone Watershed Association, American Rivers, New Jersey Clean Communities, and our other sponsors as well as the Environmental Commission, Public Works Department, and volunteers of Cranbury, East Windsor, Franklin, Hightstown, Lawrence, Millstone, Monroe, and West Windsor.
Keeping NJ beautiful,
Andy
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Cleaning Up
So I've been immersed in Americorps since the onset of April. Finalizing the details for eight stream cleanup events, on top of regular duties, can be grueling and cause a loss of faith. But let me tell you, all the energy you pack into what you do comes right back like a blazing boomerang. With just two more cleanups to go, I've already reaped many returns. This April, I've been cleaning up.In Hightstown, after 53 volunteers from around the town pulled out over 1000 pounds of trash (pictured right), the great Gary Grubb was good to his word. The venison jerky was chewy and delicious and I was happy to wash it down with a Yuengling on the house. There is nothing more gratifying than earning the thanks of an entire town. A grinning, mud-freckled councilman accosted me, "Thank you! Thank you for coming to Hightstown. We appreciate everything you've done for us today." Gary Grubb called me on the phone yesterday. He said the Hightstown mayor was commending me at the town council meeting and wanted to put something about the cleanup in the Windsor-Hights Herald, the town newspaper. I'm going to send him a press release on Monday.
Two local papers, the Lawrence Ledger and the Princeton Packet, already ran this article in recent weeks regarding the stream cleanups:
http://www.packetonline.com/articles/2008/04/08/the_princeton_packet/news/doc47fac10253d63201762006.txt
Somehow I've been able to find time to squeeze in field trips at the Duke Farms Estate in Hillsborough, NJ for the 5th graders of Auten Road School during the week. I run the water monitoring station at Lake #31. The 2700-acre estate has a bunch of reservoirs that are all named after the number of feet they are above sea level. James Buchanon Duke had a monopoly in the US tobacco industry and stakes in electric power. He's the one Duke University is named for. He had places in North Carolina, New Jersey, Rhode Island, and Hawaii. Everything he was worth was handed to his daughter and heiress, Doris Duke. Her most famous moment was when she accidentally ran over her interior decorator, Eduardo, with her car. Sitting on a billion USD, of course she was a prime target for lawsuits. The police ruled the death as just an unfortunate accident though. Anyway, Duke Farms is a beautiful place that is rather private and difficult to visit unless you have permission or you know someone inside. It really is a perfect sort of blend between old stone architecture and tidy landscaping. I am privileged to have access to such a place.
These 5th grade girls from Hillsborough have crushes on me. They snicker, swoon, and giggle all the time. It's because I look a lot like one of the Jonas Brothers, a tweenie band akin to Hannah Montana, whoever she is. Apparently, I also look like a character named Chase Matthews from Nickolodeon's Zooey 101 show. One girl asked me if I could be her "new best friend". Another tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if she could take a picture of me. It was nice she had the courtesy to ask. Then the shit blew up the fan when one of them asked me for my autograph. I won't be joining the girls at lunchtime from here on out.
More cleanups and more field trips to come.
Your busy 'bassador,
Andy
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