Under Pressure

The last thing we need to be dealing with in the middle of the preparations for moving cross country this week is my car.  Especially since we will be driving the car over 3,000 miles from DC to California.  And so, to ensure that we wouldn't have problems, I had a major assessment done on the car, which resulted in two new tires, new brakes, an oil change, tire rotation, etc.  My car has not had any major problems, so I talked to the mechanic about the trip cross country and this is what he said needed to be done.  All of  it was preemptive in preparation for the trip and not in response to a specific car problem.


Then, five days after I had all of this work done, one of the NEW tires blew out completely -- shredded while "sun of my life" was driving.  Luckily he managed to avoid an accident and got help on the side of the road.  Everyone is safe.  But now, I'm absolutely paranoid about this trip, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can really do to stop feeling paranoid.  Here is a picture of the tire:

Have you ever felt paranoia just like keep spiraling?  It's like, the tire exploding on the road sent me from total confidence in an awesome road trip cross country to now being totally convinced that the trip is going to be a disastrous two weeks of us stuck in the worst part of South Dakota with no cell reception to phone for help while we miss all of the sites and perhaps even have to ditch my car in the middle of nowhere.  It's really not a good state to be in.


Aside from the projections of a bleak future, I also do not see any reasonable way to regain the confidence I once had in my car on this trip.  I had the mechanic put on a new tire today, verified what pressure they need to be at so I can check it on my own, asked about any recalls on the tires and checked out the tire series to see if there is a history of problems.  AND because I feel like all of this due diligence is merely a repetition of what I did last week before the tire later exploded without warning, I am having the work done by my regular mechanic checked by another mechanic tomorrow.  Yet this is really not a solution because what happens if the new mechanic says something is wrong that the old mechanic didn't say was wrong?  Do I just blindly trust him and assume that the tire exploded because of poor installation rather than just a because of some fluke?  


The whole thing is really aggravating. I'm pretty sure that Morrissey is the only person who can help me right now.  

Intrigued by Envy

A little known statement from Mitt Romney way back in January or February this year has been at the forefront of my mind over the past few days/weeks as the presidential campaign centers on class and workers rights, etc.  Romney claimed that the president divides us with the "bitter politics of envy," which led to an astute op-ed piece in The New York Times. 

I just keep wondering what the heck Romney is talking about!  Is he suggesting that those of us who are not wealthy business owners or the like are envious of his situation?  This just seems so un-American to me.  For a country that sells the trope of the American Dream and pulling oneself up by the bootstraps, it sure seems strange to suggest that people are envious rather than, oh I don't know, say that we have the right to pursue those dreams?  The fact is, as most of us liberal types know, people are bitter because those tropes are not true and they are not true in part because the business practices of the elite and their greedy business decisions have a disproportionate effect on the rest of us by making it extremely difficult to take part in the American Dream while -- in the same breath -- celebrating their own success as a clear example of the reality of the American Dream.

Romney and his privileged rhetoric really gets under my skin.  Calling the majority of the American public envious is such an enormously condescending concept.  The OED defines Envy as: 

1) Malignant or hostile feeling; ill-will, malice enmity 
2) Unwillingness, reluctance 
3) The feeling of mortification and ill-will occasioned by the contemplation of superior advantages possessed by another 

Woah.  Is this really what Romney thinks or is he just saying things that he is accustomed to saying like, "oh that person just envies me"?  Either way, it seems like a pretty myopic view, especially for a presidential candidate.  I just keep thinking of the things my parents used to tell me to ward off my frenemies at school with words of advice indicating that someone is just envious or jealous of what you have.  Well, it's one thing to say that at home to comfort your kid and that might have one ounce of truth when it is about interpersonal relationships.  But it is an entirely other thing to suggest that at least half of Americans are just haters who are angry because someone has more than we have. 

The argument is huge and there are many points to be made, but one of them is that what I know I feel is nothing like envy when I think of Romney or any other person of extreme privilege like him, and I'm quite sure I'm not the only one.  I'm angry, but I'm not angry when I contemplate his superior advantages.  I'm angry about how he has used that superior advantage to the detriment of others.  And it makes me sad to see him garnering support from other so-called "leaders" -- both business and political.

5-0 Alert

A police station might actually be one of the last places where I would expect to find artwork.  I mean, MAYBE I wouldn't be surprised by a mural that was done as a community service project by local youth or something, but not actual artwork.

Well, imagine how my interest was piqued today when I visited the MPD 2D station on Idaho Ave NW to print out the signs to reserve a parking spot for our shipping to container to live in for a few days while we load it up.  As I was waiting for the signs to print, I noticed this Acrostic framed above the computer, which compelled me to take a picture:

I'm not even going to attempt to deconstruct this poem.  And I don't need to because what really caught my eye was an even more interesting bit of wall hanging -- some photography of MPD officers entitled "walking their beat."  It was a picture of three officers in full uniform walking down the street.  The photograph was taken from behind, so they are walking away from the camera down a city street.  It seemed weird to me to have this picture of cops at work on the walls of the station....  Is it just me or is that weird?  It's like, how would I feel about having a picture of someone sitting at a cubicle typing away at a computer hanging up in my cubicle?  I would be horrified.

I don't know, but cops walking in threes on the street does not really exude the sense of safety and heroism that I think it was mean to evoke...I think it looks more menacing than anything.  I guess it just struck me as really odd to make the work of a police officer the subject matter for wall hangings in a police station.  I might expect something that celebrates the community and showcases people interacting or something like that, but something just felt off about these pieces -- and fairly comical as well.  

The idea of having art in such an institution as the police department is interesting to me, but not so much when the only purpose it serves is some form of propaganda that dramatizes the work of the police in such a way.

The Consumer Boycott

I’ve been inundated in my Facebook newsfeed with articles posted by friends protesting against anti-gay Chic-fil-a or the many large companies that support Romney’s conservative agenda with hundreds of thousands of dollars in contributions.  I’m outraged by these companies and their politics.  And yet, I’m not immediately convinced to boycott them, which troubles me. 

What troubles me is that the lists of companies I feel I can support are dwindling to the point that I’m beginning to seriously lament the fact that I have zero talent for sewing my own clothing.  Corporations are so big and so single-minded toward profit-making these days that consumers are left, not with the choice of where to buy, but with only one real choice: buy or don’t buy at all.  For example, I’m not finding it to be a real choice to not support BP after the oil spill (even though I do not buy gas from BP stations) because how much oil does BP supply to other gas companies? A lot.  And on top of it, turns out that boycotting BP stations hardly affects BP at all, but instead affects the local business owner of that specific gas station. 

The postmodern, globalized American economy feels far away from the days of the Boston Tea Party when protesting against a company was a serious political act that supported the move toward revolution.  Instead, boycotting companies these days seems to somehow only generate potential for supporting the very same company operating under a different name.  I remember trying to protest against Gap many years ago after the news of egregious factory conditions came to light only to learn that my purchases at Old Navy, Banana Republic, and so on all still supported Gap.  So many companies own multiple brands and subsidiaries that the thought of actual “purchasing power,” aside from the power vested in me by my checkbook or credit card, is extremely weak.  

I do take the route of simply consuming less and have ever since a Lenten-led experiment back in 2006 when I decided not to buy anything for 40 days…except food and drink.   I credit this meaningful exposé with the fact that I choose to buy used clothing far more often than I choose new clothing.  I seek to eat all of the food in my kitchen before expiration dates in order to not be wasteful and use substitutions rather than buying new spices that I may not use more than once.  I do my best to decipher between needs and desires, which can prove difficult when pursuing an academic career and every book urges me to write notes in the margins making me deliberate for lengthy periods of time about which books can come from the library and which must be purchased.  And then, of course, should I buy a used book or a new one?

Is the message “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”?  Well, I definitely don’t believe in that.  But seriously, does the consumer boycott still hold the revolutionary power that it held in early America?  It seems to me that it does not.  And if it doesn’t, then where exactly does our revolutionary power lie? 

Silent Retreat

It's obvious that I've been a little tightly wound with trying to wrap things up at work and struggling with the frustration of doing my job of fundraising exceedingly well, on the one hand, and having an enormously difficult time as a manager, on the other hand.  As I'm focused on transferring knowledge to people and wrapping things up, it has become a little too easy to be wrapped up in the minutiae of difficult interpersonal relationships and lose sight of the bigger picture.

So, I took a personal day and went on a silent retreat yesterday.  The beauty of the silent retreat is the communal silence and the concentrated focus on being in silence.  I went to a Protestant retreat center in Gaithersburg called Dayspring.  It is a free place and open to anyone who is looking to retreat -- regardless of faith, etc.  I particularly enjoyed the labyrinth made of rocks as a tool to focus meditation:

Empowerment

I’m thinking a lot about empowerment today because I have failed in my current workplace.  I have two weeks left, and I’m having an even harder time going back there every weekday. But it isn’t because of my two bosses – one of them resigned and the other is out of town all month except for three days.  It’s because of my management responsibilities.

I only manage one person, and we do not get along.  Well, truth be told, we either get along famously or we can’t stand each other.  All the talk about personality tests on this blog recently was brought on by the two of us having to take it to figure out our problems.  She is an INFP, and I am an ENFP.  Seems pretty similar, but it is not at all.  I am direct with information and work hard to be more of a mentor than a boss, she takes every ounce of criticism personally, even when I don’t mean it as a criticism, and she finds me to be abrasive.

It is EXHAUSTING to work through these issues. I was thinking through it today after ANOTHER round of mediation in which she has accused me of not giving her enough direction even though TOGETHER we wrote out our priorities for the month…but because I didn’t put a specific deadline, she hasn’t done any of them.  Isn’t this a priority list FOR THE MONTH?  And the month is half over, n’est ce pas?  So…what kind of deadline did I need to put?  It needs to be done at the end of the month!

Blerg.  Anyway, it got me thinking about the idea of empowerment.  This person does not have a college degree, but has been working on a bachelor’s degree for a very long time.  We are only one year apart in age.  She does not have a lot of leverage in terms of education or years of experience to advance very far in any career at this stage.  I’ve been trying to give her enough guidance to be able to make decisions and grow into the position, but intentionally not micro-managing so that she can make decisions on her own.  In my mind, all of this has been toward the purpose of empowering her.  It occurred to me today that the word empowerment – a word straight out of feminist and civil rights movements that I fiercely believe in -- might be problematic. 

Empowering means to give power or to authorize power to those who are powerless.  My understanding of empowerment is related to involvement – having people involved in decisions that impact them.  I’ve done this with my employee by having her set the goals with me, working together to determine strategy and offering overarching deadlines rather than task-related deadlines.  But it doesn’t seem to have empowered her to be more involved in thinking on a more strategic level OR in completing her work.  Is empowerment only empowering if someone WANTS power over their own decisions?  And who doesn't want that?   

I don’t know, but I will say that I feel totally defeated and not at all empowered.  Two.  More.  Weeks.  That freedom to leave this job is empowering.

Preparations

Getting ready for moving and finding a place out in Santa Cruz includes major decisions "sun of my life" and I are making right now.  Some of the BIGGEST decisions to be made are related to our 2 week road trip out west! 

 So far, we have reserved a campsite in Yellowstone and have plans to visit Memphis, Madison, Minneapolis and Mt. Rushmore before we get to Yellowstone.  Next steps are picking out what clothing we will need since we will be entering many different climates along the way, and of course, we also have to make sure we have the right music and apparatuses to play said music.  It's all kinda time consuming, but also pretty darn fun!  

I prefer to think about these aspects of planning as opposed to the details of signing a lease and making sure my car is in good enough shape to carry us through the trip.  You all know that I have had some bitter experiences with the mail, but this is the kind of mail I'm receiving right now, which is keeping my spirits high:

The Frightening Power of Empathy

I've been captivated today with the FBI's report on Penn State and its handling of the Sandusky offenses.  I read the full grand jury brief when it came out, and I was captivated by that too because of the consistency in the events outlined in the brief and in the invisible power that was underscoring all of it.  

The problem with invisible power is, as you may guess, its invisibility.  Everyone knows it's there, but it is really hard to put your finger on it, clearly identify it, and what's worse, it is really hard to contain it and singularly point it out.  Because invisible power permeates our thinking, feeling, and acting.  It is often identifiable in hindsight, like we are able to see so painfully clearly in this report, but the problem is that it is really hard to see it at work as it is happening.  And when someone sees it, it is often a lonely place to be because people think you might be over exaggerating or misunderstanding/mischaracterizing a situation in some other way.  

This article outlines the role of empathy as a negative force that allowed people to minimize the violence that Sandusky was committing: "The Freeh Report, Jerry Sandusky, Empathy and Penn State."  

I have an example of how fiction can help us understand things about our world through their narratives that provide some objective distance from personal experience.  Octavia Butler's Parable series was a compelling focus for my thesis because she confronts empathy as a force that makes us act and react in ways that limit people's capacity to make fully-informed decisions because they are held in the grips of empathy and are forced into a mode of reaction rather than response.  

I wonder what it is that allowed these power players to react to Sandusky with empathy instead of reacting with horror?  Is it because they knew Sandusky as a person and they didn't know these young boys who they likely never met or even saw in person?  It seems to me that it has something to do with the relative anonymity of these young boys that allowed people to see them as abstract victims rather than real suffering beings.

Invisible does not only mean to not be seen, but also means to not be taken into consideration.  A person who sees and witnesses violence is far more likely to take that moment into consideration than someone who hears the witness tell the story of violence.  It is a complicated dilemma because, as we see very clearly in hindsight in this case, the most heinous actions needing justice are done in a space (like an empty locker room) and within a system (like a large bureaucracy) that ensures these acts will NOT be seen by anyone and that the few who do see it are not in a position to do a thing about it.  

I'm in a mood today...

for rocking out on the bassoon!  I haven't played at all since my ABOMINABLE audition with the AU orchestra in fall of 2010.  And I'm still playing as terribly as I did then.  Well, worse.  My lips couldn't handle more than 20 minutes of playing today.  It's okay, it's like my French language skills that sneak away from me from time to time and won't come back until I give a lot more TLC.  

So, I'm soaking my reed and hoping to play for another 20 minutes before picking it up for the night and then, I'll need to keep doing this on a pretty much daily basis if I am interested in trying out for the UCSC orchestra...which I just might be interested in.  Sure, there is always the community band that will take me if I fail to register notes in tenor clef, but those of you who would make that suggestion have clearly never played in a community band.  That merits its own blog post, so I won't go into that right now.  I do have stories of the Vienna, VA community band that I played in FOR A YEAR!

At any rate, the piece that I would like to audition with is the solo from Mozart's Concerto for Bassoon.  It might be too ambitious of a range.  But listen to how beautiful this is....and then, think about how horribly wrong this wide range of music could go when you aren't practiced (and then, have pity for me, because that is what I sounded like in public during my audition in 2010 and made me avoid the entire Katzen building for over a year).

DC Brau

This weekend "sun of my life" and I went to DC Brau Brewery with some friends to check out the place that has provided DC with its first local brew in many -- nearly 60 -- years!  The brewery is currently only open on Saturdays from 1-4 for tours and tastings.  And did I mention that the tour AND the tasting is FREE?!  A very nice incentive to visit.

What makes this place so special is the simple fact that it is a local business with a really good product.  Their beers are high quality brews that rival more well-known brands of beer on taste and quality.  I also like the fact that the brewery's slogan is "fermentation without representation," which is both a witty tag line, but also a real nod to their support of DC Statehood (which is outlined on their website).  The tour is informative and explains the beer making process and talks about the science of beer making...but I'll be honest that it was hard to pay attention with all of the sweat dripping down my back and legs because it was HOT.  Luckily we had some beer to cool us off afterward!

The brewery itself is hardly visible off of a stretch of Bladensburg Rd north of NY Ave right before the Maryland border.  The signage in the strip mall advertises every business in the strip with the same black Arial font against a white sign, so no particular business stands out.  DC Brau is listed second to last after USPS and the dry cleaner, so if you aren't looking REALLY hard for it, you will miss it.  When you enter the un-airconditioned warehouse, you show your ID and are handed four tasting tickets for you to use at your discretion.  My first taste was a thick, dark porter that had strong notes of coffee. All of the beers were good, but my favorite was the Citizen belgian white ale. It is not as thick as Blue Moon and has a light, crisp taste.  Perfect for 106 degree weather.

If you haven't visited the brewery yet, it is definitely worth a stop to celebrate a local business that provides us with much needed sustenance.  

Beasts of the Southern Wild

I liked so much about this film that it is hard to pinpoint the exact moments or elements that I liked most.  The film confronts issues of inequality, power and dominance head-on making the film political without being ideological.  It was unexpectedly funny with a sharp wit.  And importantly, this movie is funny without being cheap.  I find so many movies these days use cheap humor to get a laugh.  

It isn't billed as a comedy because it isn't comedy; it is a drama.  I would actually call the film magical realism in terms of genre.  Emotions and feeling are deeply intertwined with the universe and what is happening in Hush Puppy's emotional life is articulated in nature through explosive and catastrophic events.  The serious tone of the film is balanced with fable-like qualities, authenticity, and wit.  

This is really important when trying to tell a story about South Louisiana, a place that has experienced so much tragedy.  Yet, I have never heard anyone -- my family or friends included -- from home complain about disasters.  They lament destruction and willingly tell stories of loss, but it is always with a sense of resilience and nod toward the fact that it is all a natural part of life.  For example, two months after Katrina, around Halloween, when people who had returned to the city were tasked with disposing of their refrigerators they dressed them up before setting them outside for pick up and delivery to a local refrigerator graveyard...and then, people also proceeded to dress up like refrigerators for Halloween that year.  

That is the spirit of South Louisiana (not just New Orleans), and I was enormously entertained with this movie that managed to capture it so well.  Here is the trailer if you haven't seen it yet:

Resigned

I submitted my resignation at work today, and I couldn't feel more relieved.  My boss's response was different than anything I've ever received before.  No thank you for increasing fundraising 150% over the last year or any nod to my service.  Instead, it was just an awkward "well, we'll...well, it is what it is."  I chuckled and replied, "yes, it is."

Huh?!  Such an unexpected and fairly priceless response is exactly what I should have expected.  This is a moment in which I thank my lucky stars that academics don't give a sh*t about references from non-academic sources.  'Cause I definitely will not be leaving this job with a reference, and nor would I let the crazy people I've worked with on the supervisory level to attest to my character or capacity in any situation.  

It feels so good to submit a resignation.  Not because I felt like I stuck it to anybody or anything like that.  Clearly they will find someone who is less opinionated and less strong-willed than me to take my place since most of my struggles have been accusations that point toward insubordination.  It feels good because I no longer have to surrender myself to the purview of people that I do not respect and who clearly do not respect me.

Funny enough, the word resignation means to give up, abdicate, surrender, acquiesce.  I find that resigning in this day in age is actually quite the opposite.  The daily grind is a daily resignation of surrendering your time, responsibilities, and subjective judgement of your performance to a superior in the workplace whose assessment has great potential to be purely based on his/her perception rather than on a true understanding of one's abilities.  

Resignation to me feel like liberty and freedom.  The opposite of acquiesce is to go forward, and this is what resignation really feels like.  Forward momentum.

The Affect of Baseball

I've been thinking a lot about affect lately and right now, while I'm not in school and am simply reading for pleasure, I have some distance from theoretical material.  And yet, one of the reasons I love theory is NOT because it abstracts things, but because some theories examine the quotidien in a way that makes us understand the depths of the somewhat mundane and routine things that occur in everyday life. 

Today, I was thinking about the affective experience of baseball and the role of pop music at the game, in particular. The music cues up to tell the fans that it's time for BASEBALL by blaring songs like "I don't wanna lose your love tonight" and "My Sherona" to get people feeling good and in a festive spirit.  What is it about the power of pop music to do that?  It seems to me that even if you hate pop, you might get annoyed at best, but the music doesn't actually seem to generate a feeling dread from someone who just isn't into it.  That person may feel something more like disdain, but that is not as pervasive as feeling just plain horrible.  Sports and music certainly go hand in hand -- after all, pop stars know they've made it big when they play in athletic arenas and singers and athletes are known for hooking up, right?  David and Victoria Beckham are my example.  And now it seems like a common thing to host a concert after a baseball game included in the baseball ticket. 

Music has a unique power to convey emotion just like rhyme in poetry is used to make a poem expressive.  The German composer, Felix Mendelssohn said "even if, in one or other of them, I had a particular word or words in mind, I would not tell anyone, because the same word means different things to different people.  Only the song says the same thing, arouses the same feeling, in everyone -- a feeling that can't be expressed in words."  I find it fascinating to see this at play in a baseball stadium where up to 40,000 or so fans can be infused with a certain celebratory, festive spirit that flows forward onto the field that they are facing (while in the stands).  I also really enjoy that festive mood and it makes the baseball game far more enjoyable than if I didn't get to hear my standby favorites, of which, this still remains one of my favorites...(and doesn't this guy look a LOT like the guys from Tears for Fears????):

Getting Carded...

is something I am totally used to.  I don't think too much about sharing all of my personal information (address, birth date, weight, etc.) with strangers because I have been trained to do so for basically my entire life.   That's also because they only give it a quick glance or a long serious glance.  They don't document the information.

But I've been getting weirded out about getting carded at the drug store for Mucinex D, which I learned in April I should be taking fairly regularly to stave off the usual annual or biannual sinus infection(s) that I suffer from.  When I purchase Mucinex D, I have to preemptively think about it and go to the pharmacy while it is open because, as I'm sure you all know, it is behind the counter there.  Not only do they check your prescription, but they record all of your information and it takes longer than actually picking up a prescription.   

Yesterday, I started getting a little paranoid while the guy was taking forever to record my information, and I wondered if he was looking me up in some kind of national  pseudoephedrine database.  I was worried that maybe I haven't tracked how much of it I've purchased and that maybe I'm on some kind of watch list.  And then, I got all worried because I LOSE STUFF ALL THE TIME!  Like, all the time.  Can I not replace a packet of Mucinex D when I'm desperately in need?  Is it possible to at least get a prescription if it comes to that? 

As I started asking questions yesterday about what they were noting and why, the pharmacist told me I need to be sure that I don't surpass the limit for purchasing this stuff.  Well, what the heck is the limit?!  I've been doing my research to find out...and according to the info that I looked up on CMEA, it looks like the limit is 9 grams in a year, which at 60 mg a pill means I can basically purchase 150 pills in a year.  Is my math correct here (not a rhetorical question)? 

That means that I better only have allergies for half of the year because if I have to take more, I can't.  I got a little more paranoid as someone comically (but semi-seriously) mentioned a neighborhood as being meth-ridden in Santa Cruz...I don't want to raise any flags due to an increase in allergy purchases and a move to Santa Cruz, ya know.   

Anyway, I'm not sure how in the world I'm going to keep track of my purchases, but I figure I better find a way since I don't buy them all at a single location.  The last thing I need is to get arrested for something like that.  And let's be honest, I've had some extremely weird things happen to me that makes this possibility not seem like such a ridiculously farfetched idea.  And another thing I've learned is that when the government and I are in an argument, I usually tend to lose after prolonged impotent fist shaking.