savepip.org

Brief Reflection on NM Kids Club Work Crew

2010-07-17T21:00:00.001-05:00

1. People are messy. In a sense, no one will ever be perfectly suited for a good work. But God challenges us to do good works anyway. The miracle is not that a person finally gets prepared to do good works; the miracle is that people decide to do good works.

2. People really develop in the context of relationships. God has brought these kids here. Kids Club is our opportunity to love them, share the good news with them, and build relationships with them, regardless of what that person's relationship with God currently is.

3. Getting up at 6am when it's already 105 degrees outside, sweeping stuffy buses littered with Gatorade cups and sticky candy, planning a lesson that will probably have to be adjusted on the spot, wiping down tables covered in glitter and glue, singing and yelling till you have no voice, throwing away half full milk cartons, dragging a kicking screaming cursing 7-year-old to the one person whom he can trust to tell how much he gets beat up at home, quizzing kids who purposely give the answer opposite of the one you're looking for, driving without AC in 114 degree afternoons, sharing with five sweaty kids a wiry van seat whose stuffing has been completely ripped out, scraping your arms in a slide tackle, bruising your knee while carrying 40lbs of water, burning your shoulders crispy in the sun despite multiple applications of sunscreen, mopping muddy floors, scrubbing foul stopped-up toilets hoping it won't overflow, picking up more Gatorade cups on the fields and parking lots, communicating with hurt tired frustrated peers, playing soccer till you're dehydrated, picking teams twice when they're uneven, telling kids 7 times not to jump over each other into the pool, getting dunked when you weren't playing, losing a few articles of clothing each day going from here to there, resisting the urge to confront a friend's sin because this just isn't the time or place, praying to God that the 20 people in your 15-passenger van will remain safe on the high way, being confronted with how much your poop really does stink, rooming with 5 smelly snoring dudes, getting up after 5 hours of sleep and doing it all over again...that's how much a smile and a hug is worth at Kids Club. :-)

4. SB1070 The law is philosophically sound as a rock, just like Joe Arpaio. You can't tell a country they don't have the right to control who comes in or out of it. Moreover, the case of a state taking initiative to spur the federal government into action lies in the vein of the American spirit that has made the nation great.

However, Arizona is not going to return 460,000 illegal immigrants to Mexico. First it's an impossible task because Arizona has enjoyed the soft border for too long. If they didn't want to have an immigration problem, they should have thought about that before the construction boom of the 90's and 2000's. Second, the economy would fail if they did remove so many workers. You might say that 460,000 able workers and consumers is an institution too big to fail.

So while SB1070 does nothing but further alienate hard workers and tear families apart, no program has yet been established that will protect immigrants as they seek to become legitimate citizens. For millions of people in our country and the successful businesses they work for, no adequate path to citizenship has been designed. That's a failure on the government's part.

How can immigrant groups resist the allure of gangs and drug money when the government is unwilling to protect them?

Because I believe God is just, and because I think He gives us the power and the responsibility to become as He is, I support Americans for Comprehensive Immigration Reform. The people I lived and worked and worshiped with these weeks have lived long enough without basic rights. It's time to provide a means by which immigrants can make it right and become legitimate.

A second class: the real tragedy of illegal immigration

2010-07-17T20:55:00.001-05:00

The reason Arizona’s new law SB 1070 is so excruciatingly painful is that the US law has gone unenforced for such a long time. Because America has turned a blind eye to illegal immigration for over a century, people on both sides of the border have become comfortable with that unenforcement. People have adapted to what has been allowed. Citizens want cheap construction, landscaping, and produce and less menial labor. Migrants want opportunity, a high standard of living, and education. And who doesn’t want these things?

For a time, both groups got what they wanted. The housing market was booming. Citizens made lots of money off their properties. Laborers were in high demand, and immigrants and their families made more money than ever before. Everyone benefited!

And everybody lost. Citizens turned a blind eye to the law. Migrants broke the law. And look what happened…

Out of this boom time, a true second class was born. A second class was refused normal human rights like representation in court and responsible health care. A second class was resented for its willingness to work for lower wages. A second class was used and abused, as with 40 men living in a dorm the size of an elementary school classroom on a 100-acre farm. A second class was forced to fend for itself, with the help of the illegal drug trade. A second class splintered into gangs that would make war in their own neighborhoods. Moreover, they've come to resent being ordered around by arrogant citizens.

At the same time, the second class received education for their children, social service benefits and free hospital visits when getting sick, wounded or having children. Immigrants also received higher standards of living, roads, and better housing. In all of this, citizens now resent immigrants for racking up bills and paying no taxes.

A second class. This is the real tragedy of illegal immigration. Whereas citizens and migrants have so much to learn from one another and to benefit one another mutually and a duty to respect one another, because of a blind eye and a resulting second class citizenship, American citizens are now allowed to despise migrants. And as with any two-faced dictator, migrants are allowed to hate citizens.

Each side thinks the other has everything but holds back: free hospital visits vs. representation in court; schooling without taxes vs. neighborhoods where neither the sheriff nor the local hood wants to mess with your family. Nobody here has what they want. Look what we’ve done.

Weep and wail! Everyone! Cry out, because we have all lost our friends and our family. Mourn because we all have chosen to cheat one another for a buck instead of respect one another’s dignity.

Why should I weep? you ask? Because you’re responsible.

If you are reading this, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE.

If you have bought an orange at a grocery store, you’re responsible.

Si no habla usted ingles, usted tiene la culpa.

If you live in a house, of which a single nail was hammered in by a migrant worker, you are responsible.

If you take your child to the emergency room, but not to the doctor, you’re responsible.

If you pay for a cleaning service that hires illegals, you’re responsible.

If you send your child to school in America but don’t pay taxes, you’re responsible.

If you have paid migrant workers less than minimum wage, or if you have smuggled migrant workers into America, then bury your face in the sand, because you need mercy from God more than anyone.

The tragedy is the forming of a second class for the benefit of the first. You may not have broken a law, but you paid someone to do it and now you despise him. Pathetic. You may not have sold an ounce of marijuana, but your friend has sold many ounces of even more potent drugs—and you benefited. Arrogant.

A sour economy has made both migrants and citizens realize they want something more. Citizens want a leaner government that pays less money to hospitals, schools and social services for free services. Immigrants want the rights to be represented in court and to freedom to pursue the so-called American dream.

The law SB 1070 brings into clear focus what has really always been true: there really are no short cuts. What we all perceived as a short cut has really become a terrible problem for everyone.

Should the law be enforced? Yes. Should everyone be treated with dignity? Absolutely. I vote for SB 1070--the law is fair.

Migrants, begin the process for becoming a citizen and disregard the cost. An honest man never lives in the dark.

Citizens, have pity on a migrant worker because he helped you in good faith. You ought to return the favor.

Everyone, stop hating each other because you’re all guilty. Step back and look at yourself. It’s silly.

The Thought Crossed My Mind

2009-05-13T23:30:00.004-05:00

The thought crossed my mind
My feet crossed the field.
Sun-scorched and ankle-turning tufted soccer surface:

What would my parents perceive from their first sight?
What would they understand from their first hearing?
What would they have in mind when meeting you?

My hope rises to hear Liberian voices nearing me,
and they say, “God is faithful.”

The thought spawned from my anticipation and participation
Of inducting into our family my brother's new girlfriend,
Followed by Mother's invitation to bring you to a family event.

“Not yet,” I replied.

A ductile globe obeys the call of two masters
But the reality of my fit-forced, acur-angled foot
Little heeds my minds direction...

The motion of my body,
The attitude in my heart,
The wind in my face.

The thought caught my focus not for any doubt
That love conquers all, and especially yours,
But only, “Could they see what I see, and enjoy what I've enjoyed?”

Your face from space is lovely to look upon,
Plump clouds move in behind sunny cheeks,
And a witty word sparkles from the sea.

I plunge my hand 'neath the vapors,
I test the air for motion, the wind for direction.
Clouds conceal tornadoes, I find
Spinning cars, flying fathers,
And mistletoe.

Reason, Love-Love, Reason

2008-08-17T22:05:00.003-05:00

What wonderful dusk
When you were reflective, and I didn't hide
My Playboy party joke,
Your icecream at your side.

We touched, we two, in familiar comfort.
Shoulder to shoulder,
Elbow to elbow,
A place we shouldn't be, and yet...

I touched your face,
And you were, covered, still cold.

I steal, I do, but you steal from me, too.
I ransom your outrage by concern,
You claim the well to my latent passion.

Dawn's sun welcomes newborn leaf:
How good it felt to be known.

I cannot trust my heart of lust.
It pines to quench your soul,
And consume your body
Inside to out.

Only Providence supplies walls of Reason to keep me.
The God-given balance remains:
Do I really know what I want?
Can you insulate your high voltage heart?

Am I willing to fight for whom I love?

Reason, love, love, reason...
Love burns indiscriminately,
And the brain shrinks at the thought.

Sickle Moon Sunrise

2008-05-03T16:37:00.005-05:00

In a sickle moon sunrise,
The morning washes away the tense midnight air.
The city twinkles in all directions.
And my friend and I fold blankets and leave them on couches.

I stuff left over alcohol, and my face, in a trash can
And he charms the night attendant
To privelege my car from the locked parking garage.

Truth surfaces.

Crumbs of romance are wiped away
Like so much Taco Bell lettuce on a car seat.

Commitment is a word for driving home at 5 in the morning
After swallowing a hard week and chasing it with a pair of Jack Daniels.

Tempe Lake shimmers with starlight left over.
Vagrants minister to club owners with broom and pan.
Street lights farewell their celestial brothers.
And my friend and I find our places of rest,
To sleep another day.

Schindler’s List Perspective 2007

2007-08-27T22:49:00.000-05:00

After watching this Oscar-winning movie, a dozen years after its debut, I feel as though I had not missed too much (No, I’d never seen it before). My experience was already shaped by Life is Beautiful and The Pianist, besides all the Holocaust literature from school.

Through the first disc (2 hours), I kept waiting for the point where Schindler steps in and makes a change in history, a stand against the brutality. When does this list start saving people already? I realized that, more than just Schindler’s sliver of silver lining, this story is one of tragedy. There’s nothing good about it. Prejudice. Ostracism. Forced eviction and migration. Slave labor. Gross degradation. Target practice. Ovens. Even as Schindler wins the audience over at the end, wishing he could have saved just one more person even after such sacrifice and intrepid leadership, I’m forced to deal with my agreement, that he should have saved one more person with that golden Nazi pin of his. These are, after all, lives of people we’re talking about, not just a winning speech.

I liked the black and white: the fact that I know this is a current movie, with contemporary actors who I recognize, drives home how deliberate the concept is, forcing to me to immerse in a world where I can’t control what people in the movie are doing. Perhaps that would have been true of any modern big budget black and white movie, but it also makes the black and white striped uniforms stand out, and it puts a delay on my realization that the feathery powder landing on Schindler’s summer jacket is not snow. Why did Spielberg have to be so good? Then, of course, the black and white created the contrast of the little girl in the red dress and of memorial candles.

I liked the supporting cast, especially Ralph Fienes and Ben Kingsly. I love how Kingsly’s character frequently approaches Schindler with real problems, keeping his cool as Schindler slowly realizes his concern. It’s impossible not to admire his glaring restraint as Schindler takes advantage of him toward the beginning. Human feeling seemingly becomes an intellectual study for Ralph Fiennes. I was slightly surprised at his unwavering Nazi conviction when hanged, but then, he really didn’t change, despite his intimate relationships with several strong-hearted Jews who fought themselves and their tyrant to try to get him to understand how twisted he’d become. Fortunately, Schindler’s character does change, and hope surfaces, not that there won’t be a tragedy, or that these people won’t have to feel this tragedy, but that people do change and that sacrifices people make are not in vain.

I can't figure out if the man whose shadow places roses on Schindler's grave is Liam Neeson or Steven Spielberg. It feels like Spielberg, but it looks like Neeson. Maybe it was vicarious.

So of course this movie is worth seeing. Seriously, you should see it. Just once.

First Day of School at a Charter School

2007-08-13T17:27:00.001-05:00

Wow. I think this could be the most difficult thing I've done in long a time. I had one kid who just wanted to challenge everything I said: he didn't have to sit down, he didn't have to work on his assessment, and he didn't have to stop talking to his friends and get to work right now. Wow. I almost sent him to the office. I think, however, there must be a different way. After a while, I sat down next to him and started pointing out problems for him to do, and that was helpful, because then he actually did it.

There must be something to do about a kid who only wants to challenge a teacher. Perhaps the point is just to move on sooner and allow him to get bored. Yeah, that's it. Remember the story of Beebop? She didn't understand that secret smile, but she eventually got her act together.

One student brought up an interesting concept: One must earn a person's respect. He talked about how the world of gangs and street talking and fighting worked, saying that a man's respect is huge.

There are so many issues in inner-city schools: The #1 issue the students and even teachers pointed to today was lack of money. Students in my class were saying that the only reason we tutors were there was because the school would lose its funding if the students didn't all pass the Arizona Standardized Test. So these students are indignant because they think that I am only there for my own benefit. My initial response, in layman's terms, would be: Grow the f*ck up!

However, excellent teachers clearly bestow far more knowledge than can be found in books as they coax their charges forth into the world of responsibility. With that, simple challenges such as these can be met with the shear confidence that comes from greater experience and knowledge that for all every erratic teenage impulse, there is a sliver of simple truth that anyone may garner. Our choices are more basic than they seem, yet our control is far less than we imagine. And for any anger set ready to explode on all sides, a lot of loving water passes through the network of canals, running through the desert.

Residual Self Image

2007-06-19T13:25:00.000-05:00

I visited the thrift store, on foot, to exchange some clothes.
I carried them in a green plastic basket.
Unhappy with their fit, I’d hoped to change my appearance.
Transformation.
Rebirth.
I wanted these clothes to fit a certain way, but they wouldn’t.
I was uncomfortable inside them. They showed too much.
But the threads didn’t complain.
Still, I bought all new shirts. I put them on. The mirror…
The clothes fit the same way. No matter how I wore them, or in what combination.
I was the same. But they didn’t complain.
I tore the shirts in frustration.
In desperation, I ripped from end to end.
I was naked. Alone.
I had vowed I would always change, and now I had nothing.
No one.
Would the gentle woman at the register please exchange my mirror for a window?

philpirrip

Another Hello, goodbye

2007-05-19T14:29:00.000-05:00

Once again I threw hundreds of dollars away by ending my relationship with a computer. I had purchased brand new Toshiba laptop with all the bells and whistles. It was awesome. I never did figure out how to use the wireless internet on it. Ultimately I took it back because I felt the OS, the new Vista Home Premium, was a lot of froo-froo and very little utility. I’ll probably buy a 2-year-old, business-class, speed demon with XP, one that’s tiny enough to throw like a Frisbee. I figure the prices of computers with the old OS must be coming down soon.

So I took it back to Circuit City, they charged me a 15% “re-stocking” fee. I thought that was funny because they’ll never be able to sell that computer retail ever again—I had put stickers on it!

Then the strangest thing happened: After I left the store, I felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I had been so concerned about being on-line, building a cool myspace page, downloading music, and being a tech guru. But for some reason I don’t need that anymore.

So I went ballroom dancing.

Worst Case Scenario

2007-05-09T22:24:00.000-05:00

I finally dipped my cup into the Koolaid, watching the first episode of BBC's "The Office." I think the best part about the show is that the characters never work. I love that part, 'cause work sucks.

I felt like turning the player off for the first 20 minutes because it seemed like a complete worst case scenario story, which I despise, because I always empathize with the characters. When the boss tries to pull "a prank" on his secretary, telling her she's fired, in front of the new guy, all for stealing post-it notes, it was like "Meet the Parents" all over again. Here the secretary is crying, the boss almost doesn't want to tell her it was a prank because of how horrible it went, and the new guy gets to bask in the awkwardness of it.

But after that I got used to it. I came to accept that people can be utterly blind and still continue living, happily.

Does a story always have a message?

2007-03-10T17:56:00.000-06:00

If two movies are just alike, and one references the other, does the new movie have any value? Or, what message can a writer/director convey by remaking a thirteen-year-old film while employing scenes from the original? Or is the second film simply a new story, worth telling in and of itself?

What message does the movie Boiler Room attempt to communicate?

Boiler Room, 2000, written for the screen and directed by Ben Younger, starring Giovanni Ribisi, follows a son’s quest to gain his father’s affirmation by joining a fast-money trading firm selling stock for a nonexistent pharmaceutical company. Though the territory of the film is limited to New York stock exchange, the subject matter is Seth’s (Ribisi) response to his father. A street-wise, under-achieving college drop-out, Seth at first rakes in the dough when he becomes a shrewd cold-calling stock salesman. The newfound success seems to impress his father, a city judge, until both find fraud in the company. The father dismisses his son as dishonest. Seth confronts his father, finally revealing his desire for favor, and the father responds deeply. The son asks his father to buy false stock in order to make fast money for the two of them before abandoning the company entirely. Eager to meet his son’s confession with good faith, the father assents. At this point the team of investigators trailing the company makes an offer the son can’t refuse, threatening to take away the father’s judgeship as well as Seth’s freedom without cooperation in prosecuting the company. Seth agrees on the condition that the judge remains unassociated with the company and its wrong-doings. The movie ends with Seth walking out of the office building, the company’s records in hand.

A strong element of Greed opposes the true reconciliation of father to son throughout the film. For the company, the art of making money lies in the sale. Tell the client whatever he needs to hear in order to make that sale. This theme reverberates through every moment of training Seth receives. The biggest sale we witness is Ben Affleck’s presentation to a room of twenty would-be stock brokers. As an intro, he throws the keys to his Ferrari out on the table, leaving no doubt that the name of the game for this company is money. He instructs the recruits to respond to any questioning family members with steady payments on the relative’s Lexus. Disregard the people who tried to raise you, because only money and power matter now. To cap it off, the co-workers spend their spare time reciting lines from the film, Wall Street.

Michael Douglas portrays Gordon Gekko, the personification of Greed in Oliver Stone’s Wall Street, 1987, and he also shepherds a young, cold-calling broker into a world of insider trading. Charlie Sheen’s character, Bud, strives to prove his worth to his dad, played coincidentally by Charlie’s dad, Martin Sheen. In order to make his first sale to Gekko, Bud volunteers information learned from his father about his father’s company. Gekko quickly shows Bud how much he values such information by sending a high class hooker with a limo and an all-night pass to any club in Manhattan. Bud then fashions his friendships around town into avenues of information. Seemingly over night, Bud becomes Gekko’s personal trader and espionage specialist. Bud uses his success to impress his father: Go get yourself a new bowling jacket! Hoping to use his power and trading savvy to improve his father’s company, Bud draws up a plan for Gekko to purchase the company. Of four union representatives who must approve the plan, Bud’s father is the only one who refuses, citing Gekko’s lack of personal interest in the company. Lo and behold, the next day Bud’s informers leak that Gekko does plan to sell off the company in pieces, vaporizing 24 years of his father’s work. To get back at Gekko, Bud, with his father’s help, formulates a plan to force Gekko to sell all the company’s stock at once and to have Gekko’s competitor buy the company with the promise to keep the company intact. Gekko loses $75 million. Finally Bud’s insider trades catch up with him and the police arrest him. He agrees to help the investigators finger Gekko by secretly recording a confession tape.

Center stage in Wall Street belongs to Gordon Gekko’s intimidating world view of Greed. In their conversations, Gekko conveys to Bud that more money is always better and no one should ever settle for less. There is nothing valuable that cannot be bought, not even love. In a press conference held before all the stockholders of a paper-producing company, Gekko trumps all accusations of maliciously buying and selling stocks with his virtue of Greed. He explains that cutting salaries and management will save money for the company. Greed will save this company and Greed will save this country! Greed, it seems, is Gekko’s ultimate value.

The two movies, then, Boiler Room and Wall Street, have altogether too much in common. Both use the world of stock trading in New York as a venue to tell tales of father and son. Both incorporate iconic characters who minimize morality and personal relationships in the name of gaining wealth, and in both, they flaunt its benefits. Both end with the misled youth consciously, resolutely accepting a future of judgment.

Why did the writer/director of Boiler Room make this movie? Why remake a classic if both Michael Douglass and Charlie Sheen and Martin Sheen are still alive and making movies? Why should a movie reference the film from whom its messages are borrowed?

Is there no different message? Was Boiler Room merely a good story that deserved to be told?

Do stories necessarily have messages?

Book Review: Heart of Stone, by Renate Dorrestein

2007-01-21T22:29:00.000-06:00

Book Review: Heart of Stone, by Renate Dorrestein

In this novel, the protagonist, Ellen, retraces her past between ages 12 and 37 in order to confront the effects of very dark events in her family history. Growing up in the Netherlands of the 1960's and '70's, Ellen's family runs a business collecting Americana, or print media covering any and all things to do with America: Elvis and other pop culture, politics, gossip columns, the race to the moon, etc. While Ellen's is a happy family, her mother descends into a kind of psychosis after bearing her fifth child, leading to an act of horrendous violence against the entire family, leaving no bonds intact. Ellen's world is flipped upside down in a single day, and, having no one she is willing to trust who can teach her how to grieve, Ellen relies on her own devices of manipulating her relationships and of hearing and reacting to imaginary voices, all in order to generally avoid her inner conflict between memories of an affectionate family and of brutal loss. Ultimately the story resolves with a message of hope as Ellen consciously decides to enter into her past, to confront her current patterns of relating to other people, and to trust and build relationships anew. I give the book an R rating for violence, sexuality, and an extended section of neurotic narrative with a religious bent.

This story caught my interest immediately with its story of loss and a protagonist learning how to confront it. It keeps the pages turning by concealing Ellen's trauma, but revealing its effects on her life and her character, as if the reader were meeting her and getting to know her, bit by bit. The story proves very accessible to me because of its familiar Americana motif and because of a distinct Evangelical Christian undercurrent within Ellen's family life and her therapy, later on. The characters shine provocative and believable, especially Ellen's brothers and sisters, who each deal with entering adulthood in their own ways. I was impressed with a very well told moment of trauma, early in the story, which becomes a definitive moment for Ellen, though a red herring for the novel's overall focus. Brief moments of extreme violence lay in the latter half of the novel, but it's mostly clear the author has redemption in mind. I didn't quite understand why the climax of the story deals with Ellen's forgiveness of her father and not particularly that of her mother. If I had one critique, the protagonist fails to confront the true villain. If I take anything away from this novel, it will be a distinct woman's perspective on dealing with great loss.

philpirrip

Surprised by Parents

2007-01-09T18:37:00.000-06:00

My Dad called me on Sunday after reading my blog. He wanted to make sure I was okay, and he wanted to know what was going on with me. I was as evasive as ever, but I found out he wasn’t letting me get away this time. My anger and performance had, in the past, contributed to some distance between us. But it didn’t stop him this time. He said he wanted to talk to me every week. And for the first time, I didn’t feel like I was just some distraction in my parents’ lives. It mattered to him what happened in my life. Dad was on board with me.

Sometimes a moment comes along and surprises me. Every now and then, I realize I do not know so much. I shouldn’t need those moments. I should, as the saying goes, love as if I’d never been hurt. I just pray I can do that for others.
philpirrip

01.01.07: New Year's Day

2007-01-05T17:37:00.000-06:00

Rock bottom: the gritty earth.

Hitting Rock Bottom…

2006-12-29T18:29:00.000-06:00

What does it mean to hit rock bottom? Different people must have different absolute hard ground, and yet, for those who have felt the impact (or need to), the range of experiences that others classify as “rock bottom” has nothing to do with the important elements of the moment. What one classifies as rock bottom is absolutely irrelevant to the experience itself.

From various TV shows and other media (I know not which), we encounter plenty of different definitions for the unbreakable absolute zero. One says, “When you’re lifting the lid on that dumpster for the first time, you know you’ve hit rock bottom” (Movie—Pay it Forward, paraphrased). Some movies depict characters resorting to prostitution for drugs (Movie--Requiem for a Dream). There could be plenty of others. But one other perspective stood out to me recently concerning great falls from grace. A man says to his friend, “If you’re waiting to hit rock bottom, it’s never going to happen. You’re never going to see a bright light, or hear a heavenly voice tell you when to stop.” (Media—again, I know not which.) Here, the character means that “hitting the rock bottom” is a decision, a personal realization and resulting action, that has nothing to do with raw materials. Instead it deals with whatever objects people deem real, with whatever things on which people place value.

What does it mean, then, for you to hit rock bottom? And what should you expect to find: nirvana or the sheol?

I’ve decided I’m going. I’ll make the trip. I want to find out the truth. I’m going to slap that cold hard clay with my own naked butt. I’m tired of working so hard to appear above reproach. I’m sick of trying to keep my sin from affecting others. It was, of course, a folly and an illusion in the first place. Hitting rock bottom, I’ll finally know what’s real in my life, and I’ll live for it.

Wait a minute! you say. We’re talking about two very different bottoms! For one, we are allowing ourselves to face real consequences, and this feels like giving up things that are safe and comfortable, and trading them for something like a cold, barren uninhabitable desert. For the other, we are accepting exceedingly glaring compromises of dignity and morality. “Rock bottom” could mean raising my hands in the air, empty and willing to receive, or it could mean impulsively punching my hands through a glass floor that I had always walked on, wondering what lay beneath.

Whatever the case may be, these two bottoms are somehow connected. Rock bottom, really, is the glass floor that I decide not to punch through, and it’s also the façade and rags that I leave behind in search of something new. It’s both. I give up the meaningless things I had, and I decide not to destroy something I trust.

So I will give away my performance lifestyle with its focus on impressing people, and embrace the fact that I’m a cool guy, as is, without all the extras.

Therefore, if I were a truly excellent, healthy, and productive human being, I would do the following things:

1. Work out at the gym four times a week.
2. Join a therapy group for addiction.
3. Study daily on MS Access to excel at my job.
4. Maintain a M__f___ing blog.
5. Buy a plant, and practice caring for it daily.
6. Practice reading Spanish out loud, daily
7. Practice new music on the flute.
8. Read an excellent book.
9. Answer questions in old therapy workbooks.
10. Call all my friends.
11. Write Christmas cards to all my friends.
12. Lock my laptop computer in my car every evening.
13. Clean my room.
14. Organize my mail.
15. Wash my laundry.
16. Learn a new recipe to cook every week.
17. Pray to a higher power.

I hereby swear never to do any of these preceding activities until I hit rock bottom.

Philpirrip

My five misconceptions about Phoenix, AZ

2006-12-17T13:07:00.000-06:00

These are a few thoughts that occured to me as I reconciled myself to my new environment.

1. Phoenix, being largely made up of newly arrived west coasters (from southern California), will have a well developed downtown area, like San Diego. Quite the opposite. One good indicator of urban development might be how many well-known popular bars are in the city limits. These are conspicuously absent. While some people in, say, Chesterfield, MO say they won't go to places in downtown St. Louis, my new Phoenix roommates, avid party people and long time residents of the Southeast Valley (the equivalent of Chesterfield), refuse to even entertain the idea of checking out pubs downtown, as does their extensive network of friends. They all cite the dangers posed by prolific Mexican gangs in the downtown area. No one goes downtown, according to them, except for ball games. While my roommates may be a somewhat limited sample, it seems extreme and significant, considering that I’ve met no one in STL who wouldn’t at least consider visiting The Landing, the Central West End, South Grand, or Washington Ave. Even when the Delmar Loop was considered dangerous, the danger seemed to allure at least some young people, making it the perfect out-of-the-way, rebellious nook for hanging out. There's apparently nothing like that here. The local big university, Arizona State, is nestled, along with with its own extensive strip of bars, all well away from the city limits, in Tempe. To add to the effect, public transportation is literally superfluous here. There are buses to ride, but it makes no sense for reasons explained below. (There is, actually, a Central-West-End-like neighborhood that I have been advised to check out. More on that later.)

2. Strip malls are bigger in STL than they are in the Phoenix area. Absolutely the opposite! While the strip at Daniel Boone Valley, Chesterfield, may still hold the title of largest strip mall in the U.S. (and the world), Phoenix and especially the Southeast Valley (which includes college-town Tempe, rich suburb Chandler, middle of the road Mesa and Morman dominated Gilbert) seems to have been designed as a city with strip malls in mind. It is divided into a grid of one-mile-long blocks. While the interior of every block consists of windy residential neighborhoods, the corners of every perfect square block are completely taken over by strip malls—every one. Moreover, every main road is two to three lanes wide going each way (total of five lanes, with one in the middle), and one more lane is added as a right-hand turn lane at each corner to accommodate people turning into the strip malls. Even more, the residential neighborhoods and business developments all adhere to strict architectural forms and colors, making everything very trendy and uniform and looking like cardboard cutouts. Wow. I guess what really shocks me is that every place I want to go to is in a strip mall: churches, coffee houses, pubs, libraries, everything!

3. Moving to a place where I know less than a dozen people by name will make me a less busy person. Within 24 hours, I had quadruple-booked myself for Friday night. ‘Nuff said.

4. Since Phoenix resides in a desert, water will be scarce. Actually, Phoenix resembles something of a Lake of the Ozarks for Californians because of dams. I’m not kidding: my roommates talk of tubing, water skiing, and jet skiing often.

5. Phoenix does not have to contend with air pollution the way that LA and St. Louis have to deal with air pollution. Actually, it’s worse. Winters in STL allow most of the smog to move on, but humidity in the summer makes it worse. LA has a constant ocean breeze. While the desert sun shoots the pollution out of the Phoenix air during the summer, the mountains absolutely trap the air during the winter. In a word, the pollution is awful here, for the moment.

These are the misconceptions that have heretofore been eradicated for me. We’ll see what else happens.

Philpirrip

10 ways to keep yourself awake on Route 66

2006-12-16T21:14:00.000-06:00

Knowing my tendency to drift off at the wheel, I knew I would have to prepare well in order to make my 21-hour, 1500 mile trip from St. Louis, MO to Phoenix, AZ. Ergo, the following list:

10. Play leap frog with semi trucks. This is only a half joke. The truth is, everyone would rather share the road with consistent drivers, regardless of whether they drive fast or slow. So it annoys truckers to pass them, and then slow down, so they they have to pass you. Having said that, if you need the adrenaline rush, this can be a big plus.

9.5 Tune into something with which you can actively participate. That is turn the radio to a radio station or cd of something you already know: the idea here is not to bore yourself, but to anticipate what's coming next in the song or talk show so that you can actually say it outloud, yourself. If you're self-conscious about talking to yourself, this may not be your first choice, but for me (he he) it was ideal. I found myself tuning into fire and brimstone radio preachers...

9.0 Tune into something you can analyze. If I were a music major, I would find a song I hadn't heard before, and say, "Tonic, fifth, diminished fourth, minor 6th, key change..." etc. I however, was not a music major (too bad). So instead I analyzed preachers' sermons: "This passage goes with that passage, that seems like a gigantic leap, this fits in with his overall thesis statement..." etc.

8. Eat small snacks the whole way. Chewing keeps you awake, and large meals put you to sleep.

7. Stop frequently. It slows down your trip, but if you've got the time, it's worth it (as opposed to death...)

6. Push ups. That's right, whenever you stop, drop and give me 20, or 40, or the most you can do in a set. It also helps to choose very public places, where people can walk by, point and laugh, like at gas stations or at a bank. (Yes, I did it all!)

5. Find a Wal-Mart and run laps around the parking lot until you're out of breath and sweating: oxygen is good. To spice things up, put on a hooded sweatshirt and stop and scratch your chin every time you see a Mercedes or BMW.

4. Stop by and visit your most annoying relatives along the way. Choose someone who will give you crap you would never want and that you can feel obliged to cram into your car, just because they gave it to you, even though they can see that the shocks on each your wheels are 100% compressed, making it inevitable that the slightest bump could cripple your car entirely. Why do this, you ask? So you can chuck jars of homemade frickin' apricot preserves at angry semis that try to pass you! Duh!

3. Sing at the top of your lungs! Go Tim Waurick!

2. Bob your head like you're really rocking out on the highway while other drivers pass you in awe. Seriously, swing your head like a joy-riding muppet. It gets the reaction.

1. Drive like an old lady. With your chest fully pressed against the steering wheel, arching your back forward, peering over your dashboard, act as if you were scanning for specs of bird poop on the hood of your car. This is an act of standing at attention, devoting your most careful focus on the task at hand. Your objective is NOT to be comfortable. Instead, beat your body into submission in order to win the prize, the prize being to wake up on an uncomfortable futon as opposed to a captivating hospital bed. It's worth it. I like futons.

Bonus: Buy a new, sophisticated cell phone, and don't try to figure out how to use it until you're on the road. It's good for excitement.

Good luck, one and all, and may you arrive safely, if humbly, at your intended destination.

Philpirrip

Topical

2006-12-06T22:06:00.000-06:00

Prone as they are to exhibitionism and voyeurism, blogs tend be less likely to cross these ethical boundaries if they stick to some particular topic. Asking the right question can lead to an enlightening discussion both at the computer and in person. When meeting an acquaintance, one typically asks, “What’s up?” “What’s happening?” “What’s new?” and so forth. These are very general questions to which few people have ready answers, intent as they are on what’s going on around them or on whatever’s on their minds. The answers people give rarely tell what we want to know about a person.

Therefore, one should always ask something more specific. I might know that a friend of mine is an avid skier, and so upon meeting him I would ask, “Have you hit the slopes, lately?” This gives course to our conversation as he explains why he did or did not hit the slopes since I last saw my friend. Ultimately, it’s not really the skiing that interests me about my friend’s life but rather what is affecting him these days and how he feels about it. Unavoidably, my friend will relate to me something about how he feels about that which permitted or impeded him from skiing recently, and that’s what I really want to know. By asking a more specific question, I get an answer that satisfies my true query.

The same rule applies to meeting absolute strangers. I find it better to ask seemingly random questions to strangers in order to sample their personalities. I might ask a young lady at a party, “When was the last time you went fishing?” If the person has ever gone fishing, and remembers it, she’ll generally tell me about that last time that she remembers. The way she describes her experience will let me know how she reacts to those situations. If on the other hand she has never been fishing, she’ll simply say so. At this point, I can relate to her my larger-than-life fishing story and elicit her reaction. That reaction tells me exactly what I want to know: what’s one thing she does or does not like and how does she react to it. In other words, what is her personality like? By asking a specific, if random, question, I can learn how she acts in an applied manner as opposed to simply telling her to describe her profile, which most people get wrong anyway.

The point I try to make here, is that the very same rule should be applied to blogs: entries should deal with specific questions. Not only do we avoid unwanted garbage on the internet, we also elicit true reactions, which generate comments and more enthusiastic discussion. By discussing a specific topic as opposed to, what happened in this day in my life, or how would I describe my life during a major transition, I give an applied sample of my personality, to which anyone who reads my entry may give an interpretation of my views, attitudes and feelings, both for this topic today, and for other topics in my life. Though the specific question is the interest of neither the author nor a reader, that specific question gives way to an applied sample of personality from which both the author and the reader may garner more meaningful information.

Because it avoids generalizations and clichés, and because it elicits greater discussion and meaning, blog entries should focus on a specific topic at a time. Both readers and authors gain more significant knowledge about one another through the ensuing discussion. By seeing a person’s character in action, I can learn what I really want to know about a person, even if I’m not asking what I want to know.

F#$% the world!

philpirrip