One of my boyfriend's greatest annoyances is people who jaywalk across busy streets whilst dragging a child along by the hand. I hadn't really noticed before the frequency with which parents taught their children these bad habits, but after my boyfriend started pointing them out (often by violently honking his horn at these "scofflaws"), I began to see them everywhere. I'm a bit of an armchair anthropologist, so when I become aware of a certain behavior, I want to know why it is performed. From probably pre-school onward, the following guidelines were grilled into me:
1. Look both ways before crossing the street.
2. Never run across the street.
3. Use the crosswalk and observe the stop/walk signals.
I would like to speak with the children of these dodge-and-dash runs to find out if they have been taught these same guidelines. I do recall that nearly all of my crosswalk safety training came from school, by teachers who were much more law-abiding, apparently, than my own parents. So perhaps these children are being drug across streets against their will - their cries of protest and admonitions on traffic safety falling on the deaf ears of their parents.
Most of the parents I see darting across the street with child in tow are older than me, so I am left to wonder: Was there an entire generation that missed out on traffic and crosswalk safety training? Was this training a concept not developed until the 1970's, as an offshoot of Sesame Street? Furthermore, I can't say that I have observed this behavior pattern anywhere else, so is this lackadaisical attitude toward the dangers of being hit by a car something unique to Austin?
I was pondering these very issues when I caught myself walking into the pathway through a parking lot, without stopping to check for traffic first. "Wait! What am I doing?" I thought to myself. Granted, this was a parking lot and not a busy street with a 40mph speed limit, but nevertheless traffic did flow through here and often rapidly enough to warrant at least a semi-cautious approach. So I stopped, glanced to my left, then to my right, and proceeded towards my destination. "When had I become so lackadaisical?" I thought. This thought was quickly followed by the contrarian in my head, who always jumps to my defense when under the assault of that ever-present Self-criticism. "I didn't hear anything," it said defensively, "if a car had been coming, I would've heard it."
"What if it had been a quiet car, like one of those super-quiet electric cars?" Self-criticism countered.
"Then I would've seen it with my peripheral vision." The contrarian retorted.
"In time to avoid collision?" Self-criticism asked, eyebrow raised.
The contrarian stuck out her bottom lip, sulking. Self-criticism wins again.
Once all of that was over with, I was free to wonder how my sense of self-preservation had become so, well, slack. I started to tally it up. Used-to-be, I wore my seat belt with an almost religious devotion. I couldn't even drive down the block without feeling naked if it weren't strapped across my chest. Nowadays, however, I find myself making short runs to the corner store and the supermarket and the video store without buckling in. So, what gives? Overconfidence? Laziness? I don't think that's it. For one thing, I've never been overconfident about anything in my life, and also, how much energy does it take to reach over your shoulder, across your body, and snap in a simple device? Not much. No, I think the answer lies in the nature of these trips, these "short runs" to complete errands. The answer, then, is time or, rather, a lack thereof. It seems that we have become so busy in our daily routines, trying to get everything done in one day, that we are willing to risk our lives just so we can check off all of the action items on our lists. I can really only speak for myself, but I know my own life seems to acquire more responsibilities with each passing day, and I don't even have children - it's just me (and my cat) that I am responsible for. I can't imagine also tacking on the responsibilities of parenthood to my chore list. So these parents I see, dashing across the middle of busy streets, not even in a crosswalk, dragging their children along behind them, are probably also in a mad rush to get to the store before it closes or pick the dry cleaning or whatever. But is all this risk worth it? No, it is not. We need to slow down. The dry cleaning can wait till tomorrow, or the next day if need be. Who cares? Isn't it better to make it home, in one piece, than to return the video on time? We should really look at it this way: how much time are we saving if we have to make a trip to the emergency room and spend a long stay in a hospital recovering from an accident? In the long run, you wayward parents out there, it's much faster to just walk a little further down the street to the crosswalk, and wait for the walk signal. As for me, rather than getting in such a hurry that I skip the seat belt, I'm going to take my time and take my bike on any short errands. It may not be any safer in Austin traffic than driving without my seatbelt, but at least I'm getting some exercise and reducing my carbon footprint while I'm at it!
Friday, July 04, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Death Tolls and Tiaras
I had a dream about you. You were being hunted by a wolf. I followed its tracks in the snow and found you hiding out in the top of a sycamore tree, the wolf loping about the base beneath your feet. I climbed the tree and tried to comfort you, helped you down. We ran hand in hand to a cabin, locking the door behind us, just in time.
The cabin was completely empty - just one long, barren hallway. My bare feet were cold against the wooden planks of the floor. Through the window, we could see the wolf pacing back and forth across a snow bank. We knew we couldn't stay there for long. We knew that, eventually, we would have to make a run for it.
Carefully, you lifted the bar from across the door, slowly pushed it open. I could see a patch of snow on the ground - pristine, blinding, white. A million sparkling diamonds.
Then I woke up.
You were gone. You had already left for work. The empty space in the bed still held the indentation of your body next to me. I reached out from beneath the covers with my pale hand and pressed into the empty space to see if it still held the warmth of your body, but the sheets where had had lain were cold as a desert, a vast empty space, a fresh bank of snow.
I withdrew my hand and retreated beneath the covers. I had not yet opened my eyes when a bubble of static burst from the alarm clock radio. Forty more killed in Iraq. On a lighter note, the White House was holding a state dinner for the Queen of England. Formal attire is optional, but those wearing medals and tiaras won't be considered overdressed. At her last event, Her Majesty was unable to reach the microphone; therefore, a miniature lectern has been specially created to accomodate the petite monarch.
This is how my day began, with death tolls and tiaras.
The cabin was completely empty - just one long, barren hallway. My bare feet were cold against the wooden planks of the floor. Through the window, we could see the wolf pacing back and forth across a snow bank. We knew we couldn't stay there for long. We knew that, eventually, we would have to make a run for it.
Carefully, you lifted the bar from across the door, slowly pushed it open. I could see a patch of snow on the ground - pristine, blinding, white. A million sparkling diamonds.
Then I woke up.
You were gone. You had already left for work. The empty space in the bed still held the indentation of your body next to me. I reached out from beneath the covers with my pale hand and pressed into the empty space to see if it still held the warmth of your body, but the sheets where had had lain were cold as a desert, a vast empty space, a fresh bank of snow.
I withdrew my hand and retreated beneath the covers. I had not yet opened my eyes when a bubble of static burst from the alarm clock radio. Forty more killed in Iraq. On a lighter note, the White House was holding a state dinner for the Queen of England. Formal attire is optional, but those wearing medals and tiaras won't be considered overdressed. At her last event, Her Majesty was unable to reach the microphone; therefore, a miniature lectern has been specially created to accomodate the petite monarch.
This is how my day began, with death tolls and tiaras.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Trapped in a Bubble Gum Factory
When I was a kid, I used to love Bazooka Joe gum, mainly for the comic strips within the wrappers of each piece. The bottom of the comic contained a one-line fortune for your day -- the sort you find inside a fortune cookie. Anyway, every once and awhile, I'd get a piece with a fortune that read: "Help! I'm trapped in a bubble gum factory!" The first time I saw this, around the tender age of 8 or 9, I thought it was actually a cry for help. I envisioned some poor factory worker being held against his will, forced to crank out print after print of Bazooka Joe comic strips. And this secret message he sent out, probably made on the rare opportunity when the boss wasn't looking, was his only chance for escape. It was a message in a bottle, an S.O.S. I showed it to my parents - they assured me it was probably just a joke. But I was always skeptical. I am to this day, especially now that I'm older, and therefore get the irony.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
In my senior year of high school, my school held a luncheon and awards ceremony in the cafeteria for graduating seniors. At the ceremony, one of my classmates sang "Imagine" by, well, you know who sang it first. It was a beautiful rendition, none of us had known we had such a gem among our graduating class, and by the end our eyes were filled with tears, our hearts swelled with joy for having reached this milestone and with hope for the exciting, unknowable future ahead. The year was 1992, just before Bill's first term in office. When he began campaigning, he was popular among many of us, including most of my friends, we found him personable, likable -- he seemed to offer us new alternatives - he seemed to care about some of the things we were taught to care about, having been raised on Sesame Street and occasionally lucky enough to have teachers still in touch with their hippie ideals: the environment, technology, education, human rights, a concern for the welfare of human beings the world over. I remember having favorable discussions about him, well into my college years. We were hopeful, we believed in the future he promised us. And for the most part, I think he did a damn fine job. As for NAFTA, well, nobody's perfect.
Unfortunately, the administration of the current Commander-in-Chief has cast a long and dark shadow over any of the progress made by the Clinton years. During the past seven years, we have been thrown into a dark age. I have hardly been able to turn on the radio or the news because of the reports from Iraq. I could hardly believe the things I was hearing from my fellow Americans. I began to lose all hope.
And then, when I began to fear all was lost, when I started signing up for language courses to go live in another country, I began to hear whispers of a name through the grassroots organizations; I began seeing this name in association with worthy causes, I began seeing this person in YouTube videos talking about these causes. I've watched this campaign grow and gain strength and momentum. The leftists are worried he's too soft, too much of a dreamer, that the Republicans are going to "chew him up." Well, maybe that's how it is, but I think it's going to take a dreamer to yank us out of the muck of the past so that we are no longer stuck in tradition.
A friend of mine had one of those quotes as the electronic signature for her email. I'm butchering the hell out of it, but the gist of it was that it is more dangerous to cling to old ideas than to take a risk on new ones. I see Obama representing these new ideas - scary, risky - in the way that change always is, but for the first time in a long time, I have hope.
Friday night, midnight, laying in my bed, I could hear the tail end of the Obama rally 17 blocks away at the corner of 11th and Lavaca. The crowd cheered, fireworks burst, a booming voice over a loudspeaker, which may have been Obama's, drifted up into the chilly, starry night. And circulating within that rally, drifting down the streets and into the night, I could hear it - a battle cry, a call for change, a rhythmic, chanting heartbeat: "yes we can! yes we can! yes we can!"
Unfortunately, the administration of the current Commander-in-Chief has cast a long and dark shadow over any of the progress made by the Clinton years. During the past seven years, we have been thrown into a dark age. I have hardly been able to turn on the radio or the news because of the reports from Iraq. I could hardly believe the things I was hearing from my fellow Americans. I began to lose all hope.
And then, when I began to fear all was lost, when I started signing up for language courses to go live in another country, I began to hear whispers of a name through the grassroots organizations; I began seeing this name in association with worthy causes, I began seeing this person in YouTube videos talking about these causes. I've watched this campaign grow and gain strength and momentum. The leftists are worried he's too soft, too much of a dreamer, that the Republicans are going to "chew him up." Well, maybe that's how it is, but I think it's going to take a dreamer to yank us out of the muck of the past so that we are no longer stuck in tradition.
A friend of mine had one of those quotes as the electronic signature for her email. I'm butchering the hell out of it, but the gist of it was that it is more dangerous to cling to old ideas than to take a risk on new ones. I see Obama representing these new ideas - scary, risky - in the way that change always is, but for the first time in a long time, I have hope.
Friday night, midnight, laying in my bed, I could hear the tail end of the Obama rally 17 blocks away at the corner of 11th and Lavaca. The crowd cheered, fireworks burst, a booming voice over a loudspeaker, which may have been Obama's, drifted up into the chilly, starry night. And circulating within that rally, drifting down the streets and into the night, I could hear it - a battle cry, a call for change, a rhythmic, chanting heartbeat: "yes we can! yes we can! yes we can!"
Monday, February 25, 2008
Hope in My Heart
This is a little belated - so it may have lost some of the enthusiasm initially experienced, but the sentiment is still the same. Thursday night I watched the Democratic debates between Hillary and Obama at the University of Texas. I couldn't get tickets to attend the actual debate, but this was even better because I was able to watch it, live, from the comfort of my own home office chair while also working on Walter's scarf. Thus, I was able to experience my two favorite things at the same time - politics and knitting! It felt so perfect, and not only because of the knitting. This was the first debate I actually watched -- catching only the gist of all the others on NPR the following mornings, then awaiting the results of the state primaries from the same source or a news web page. But this one, being held in my home town, at the beginning of the primary in my home state, and therefore, my turn to show up at the state primary and make my voice heard, and not to mention, being the historic event that this whole election is, I came straight home from work and sat down to watch - resolving not to get up, not to answer the phone, not to even talk to my boyfriend until it was done. And that, dear friends, is exactly what I did. I was so moved by the whole experience - not just by what they were saying, those wild, radical, liberal ideas coming out of their mouths that I was emphatically nodding my head in agreement with, but in the commercial breaks in between, by the moments I took to pause and fantasize about what it would be like to have either of those two leading the country, serving as role models for millions of Americans like myself. In Hillary, we would find a strong and powerful leader - a female role model performing the most challenging and scrutinized role in American society. A woman president of the U.S. - can you imagine it? What kind of changes would this have on our society -- on our society's view of women and their place in the world, the man-woman debate, even on popular culture? On a personal level, I think that having a woman for president, any woman, would, to some degree, legitimize my own experience as a woman in the workplace. I think for the first time ever, I wouldn't feel like I was struggling alone - out there fighting on a front line that only women could see, hear or feel. Even when I've worked where there was a group of us - men and women working together for the same cause - it has always felt like a small group, and one that had to be absolutely perfect, flawless, fierce, and unfaltering, not letting our guard down for even a split-second lest the vagaries breach the stronghold. I think if a woman were elected president, even if just as an honorary position, like our current commander-in-chief, I can only imagine that this underlying feeling would change one-hundred fold, instantly, and overnight. I can also only imagine that it will be a similar experience for African Americans, as well as other minorities (such as women!) if Barack is elected president.
And race and gender issues aside, the candidates themselves present figures of character, intelligence and substance. Both appear sincerely compassionate about the state of our nation, human affairs (both locally and globally), the health of American citizens, to name a few of the issues they have been so heatedly arguing lately. So, with not only one but two candidates so closely representing the characteristics I want to see in our next Commander-in-Chief, how does a working girl like me decide where to cast her vote? Well, the decision has not been an easy one, but after much deliberation, rumination, discussion, and research, I have decided to cast my vote with hope.
While I have no doubt that Hillary is a mover and a shaker, and I am impressed with the goals of her health plan as well as the action items she provides for achieving those goals, in my heart I believe that America is long overdue for a changing of the guard. This is still a young century, times have changed, the world is changing and changing rapidly. A host of new and unforseeable challenges lie just up ahead and we need a leader with innovation, fresh ideas, unorthodox solutions. We need a leader who inspires hope in Americans, both old and young, and at least a blossoming curiosity with the rest of the world.
And race and gender issues aside, the candidates themselves present figures of character, intelligence and substance. Both appear sincerely compassionate about the state of our nation, human affairs (both locally and globally), the health of American citizens, to name a few of the issues they have been so heatedly arguing lately. So, with not only one but two candidates so closely representing the characteristics I want to see in our next Commander-in-Chief, how does a working girl like me decide where to cast her vote? Well, the decision has not been an easy one, but after much deliberation, rumination, discussion, and research, I have decided to cast my vote with hope.
While I have no doubt that Hillary is a mover and a shaker, and I am impressed with the goals of her health plan as well as the action items she provides for achieving those goals, in my heart I believe that America is long overdue for a changing of the guard. This is still a young century, times have changed, the world is changing and changing rapidly. A host of new and unforseeable challenges lie just up ahead and we need a leader with innovation, fresh ideas, unorthodox solutions. We need a leader who inspires hope in Americans, both old and young, and at least a blossoming curiosity with the rest of the world.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Photos - like I need another hobby!
I don't really know what to do with these - was just messing around.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Promises, promises
Really, I have no excuse. I've had my own computer for a week now, and before that, I've had full use of a borrowed laptop and yet, still, no posts. The last one is over a month old. Looks like this is going to be harder than I thought.
And speaking of harder than I thought, turns out it's not so easy building a fair trade wardrobe either. My goal was to only buy items from companies who supported fair wages - there are few. It looks like I'm not going to be able to take the all or nothing approach I was hoping for, but at least I'm trying. For Christmas I just broke down and did some shopping at Target - lack of time and resources sort of forced the issue. I did, however, buy a few things from my friend's sale of items she had purchased fairly and brought back from S. America in her many travels there.
Back from the holidays and determined to get back on track, I got online and did some shopping with Fair Indigo. So far, the experience has been fairly pleasant. The sizes tend to run a little large and it's also hard to judge how something is going to look by viewing an online picture, so I've had to send a few items back. The nice thing is that they try to make it easy by including a return form and shipping label in the package. What's not so great is that they also deduct the cost of postage from your refund or exchange, so if you return something you have to pay for shipping twice (a fixed price for returns, though, so if you have a bulk of items the cost of returning them is cheaper than the price of shipping them to you. On the other hand, if you're only sending one thing back, it's probably cheaper to take it to the post office yourself, and of course you always have that option.)
The clothes are just lovely, and well made. The 100% cotton blue jeans I purchased were the most comfortable things I've ever worn, even pre-washed. However, I bought a 10, which was just a bit too large, so I had to return them. I think the next size down would've fit like a glove, but they were sold out of my leg length (yes, they sell by waist and leg length, a real bonus for petites). The front part around the zipper was kind of pouchy, but not especially noticeable, just as described by one of the reviewers. Each item online has a space for product reviews by customers which are extremely helpful when trying to figure out what something is actually going to look like when worn. For the most part, the reviews are positive and my experience is that they are also pretty accurate. Something else you will find in reading the product reviews are references to discussions with customer service people - real live people! People answering questions and listening to suggestions. When I made my order, I received what seemed like a personalized email thank you from one of the store representatives. It's currently a small operation, with only one store in Madison, WI and of course the online store and catalog. Time magazine has more information about the company's origins.
The items were a bit pricey, so I only shopped from the sale page, which had plenty to choose from and considering the quality, not to mention that good feeling you get from supporting a good cause, it's a pretty good deal overall.
One thing I've learned as I have delved into this journey of responsible consumerism is that this is a much bigger issue than just fair wage alone. The short film on this website: http://www.storyofstuff.com/ provides a concise run down of what else is at stake here - namely, the health of our planet and the survival of its inhabitants.
And speaking of harder than I thought, turns out it's not so easy building a fair trade wardrobe either. My goal was to only buy items from companies who supported fair wages - there are few. It looks like I'm not going to be able to take the all or nothing approach I was hoping for, but at least I'm trying. For Christmas I just broke down and did some shopping at Target - lack of time and resources sort of forced the issue. I did, however, buy a few things from my friend's sale of items she had purchased fairly and brought back from S. America in her many travels there.
Back from the holidays and determined to get back on track, I got online and did some shopping with Fair Indigo. So far, the experience has been fairly pleasant. The sizes tend to run a little large and it's also hard to judge how something is going to look by viewing an online picture, so I've had to send a few items back. The nice thing is that they try to make it easy by including a return form and shipping label in the package. What's not so great is that they also deduct the cost of postage from your refund or exchange, so if you return something you have to pay for shipping twice (a fixed price for returns, though, so if you have a bulk of items the cost of returning them is cheaper than the price of shipping them to you. On the other hand, if you're only sending one thing back, it's probably cheaper to take it to the post office yourself, and of course you always have that option.)
The clothes are just lovely, and well made. The 100% cotton blue jeans I purchased were the most comfortable things I've ever worn, even pre-washed. However, I bought a 10, which was just a bit too large, so I had to return them. I think the next size down would've fit like a glove, but they were sold out of my leg length (yes, they sell by waist and leg length, a real bonus for petites). The front part around the zipper was kind of pouchy, but not especially noticeable, just as described by one of the reviewers. Each item online has a space for product reviews by customers which are extremely helpful when trying to figure out what something is actually going to look like when worn. For the most part, the reviews are positive and my experience is that they are also pretty accurate. Something else you will find in reading the product reviews are references to discussions with customer service people - real live people! People answering questions and listening to suggestions. When I made my order, I received what seemed like a personalized email thank you from one of the store representatives. It's currently a small operation, with only one store in Madison, WI and of course the online store and catalog. Time magazine has more information about the company's origins.
The items were a bit pricey, so I only shopped from the sale page, which had plenty to choose from and considering the quality, not to mention that good feeling you get from supporting a good cause, it's a pretty good deal overall.
One thing I've learned as I have delved into this journey of responsible consumerism is that this is a much bigger issue than just fair wage alone. The short film on this website: http://www.storyofstuff.com/ provides a concise run down of what else is at stake here - namely, the health of our planet and the survival of its inhabitants.
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