Good. On a recent trip to D.C. I observed some people and put pen to paper. The results can be seen at chris.areyouert.com.
Good. On a recent trip to D.C. I observed some people and put pen to paper. The results can be seen at chris.areyouert.com.
If you haven’t been yet today, there’s new content for you at areyouert.com. If you haven’t been in a while, there’s LOTS of new content for you at areyouert.com. Today’s entry is about you, so you’ll want to check that out. Where you ask? AreYouErt.com.
While Michael Vick considers pleading guilty to federal charges concerning dog fighting, columnists, pundits and sports fans across the country are talking about what that means for his NFL future. Also at stake is the future of the Atlanta Falcons who will probably one way or another lose their star quarterback through imprisonment or having had enough of the Vick experience.
It’s always sad to see a person throw their livelihood away for making bad choices, especially when you’re in a position that so many other people would give anything for. It’s also sad when the fallout from those actions affects so many other people, which in Vick’s case includes the franchise that has reinvented itself solely to fit his style of play.
But today came news that an even bigger star has lost his freedom to excel on the field and carry his team to glory. That’s the story of Jose Padilla, also known as Justice Jose Padilla.
Maybe you’ve heard the name. He was detained by the government as an enemy combatant in the war on terror. He was held under that status without a lawyer for several years in solitary confinement. He took his case–just to get access to the legal system–all the way to the United States Supreme Court, which said he should be tried in South Carolina. Ultimately, the United States changed tactics, dropping his original charges of planning to detonate a dirty bomb and instead going after new charges in federal court of conspiring to support jihad overseas.
Yesterday he was convicted of those charges and faces life in prison.
That is bad new for the Washington Nationals baseball team. Two years ago Padilla became their starting catcher. Not only is he the premier defensive catcher in the league, he’s also a top hitting talent. After seeing the Nats to several titles and leading the on-field charge for the outfitting of a brilliant new stadium, Padilla now faces an eternity of bars and concrete.
Of couse, this didn’t happen in real life. Rather, it happened in the XBOX version of MVP baseball in a franchise created by my roommates and myself. We had some wonderful players named after ourselves, but also included players like Juan Rocker and Justice Padilla to put our talent over the top.
Prior to living in that apartment, the three of us had lived together at lovely Susquehanna University. It was there that Jason and I took a class our senior year called Law & Politics. We discussed things like the Padilla case from the legal standpoint and how that affected, and was affected, by politics. Absolutely fascinating.
The fall after taking the class there was an opening on the Supreme Court. While most people interested in the debate talked about real candidates, we instead went with more unconventional options. Our two favorite were George W. Bush and Jose Padilla–hence, Justice Padilla.
Sadly, neither were nominated nor confirmed. I still think Bush would have been a great option. At least give it a shot. You’re in the second, and last possible, term as president. You are the guy who nominates candidates to the court. It’s a lifetime appointment with a good salary. Why not try?
Of course after discussing the issue with the professor of Law & Politics, it became clear that President Bush is not a great candidate. To be confirmed he would need a huge supporting cast in the Senate (which was eroding at the time), and behind that would need a populous willing to support that decision. Oh and the whole giving up the presidency thing. But hey, there’s always hope for a future very popular president in the waning days of his term right?
So when you’re unemployed there’s a portion of the day you spend looking for and applying for jobs. No matter how committed you are that day, that time is finite. There’s only so long you can look through postings, compare your worth to the requirements, write cover letters and send the mothers out.
Then what?
You get to accomplish feats of entertainment that can’t be done any other time in your life. These are brought on by great boredom and a complete lack of much else to to day after day.
This week I accomplished a major life goal by reading an entire book in one day. It was The Freedom Writers Diary, and I highly recommend it. Definitely took care of a Tuesday for me.
Then I moved on to my good friend, TV shows on DVD. There’s no greater invention. You can be lazy and not feel that lazy because you are only doing it in 22 minute segments. Oh sure, I’ll just watch one more. Ok, one more. Next thing you know, you’ve plowed through two seasons of Arrested Development in no time. The only problem is that there’s only one season left of that great show. I guess I’ll have to move on to something else.
I also stumbled upon a possible new method for choosing your occupation.
I was at a park across the street from my neighborhood to measure out the trail that goes around the outside. I run there a lot and wanted to make sure I was going as far as I thought. While I was there I figured I’d take some pictures of the scenery and animals therein.
When I was finishing up the measurement, I passed a mother and young girl who had just entered the park. A few minutes later I was standing in a barn when the girl approached me.
“Go on, ask him,” her mother said.
“Excuse me, do you do the hay ride?” the girl asked.
Sadly, I was not responsible for operating the hay ride. I’ve seen it done many times, though I’m not sure of the speech that goes along with being the guide. There’s only so much you can pick up when you run by a tractor toting a trailer full of kids and their parents.
But that did make me think of the new employment system. We should line up in front of a bank of 100 people. The jury should write down what they think our occupation should be. The leading vote-getter is our new job.
The hay ride leaves promptly at 9 am. I will not wait for you if you’re late.
“Nobody likes you when you’re 23….”
Phew. Glad that’s over.
Sometimes we do things that are stupid, awesome, or stupidly awesome. You might think, “Man, I bet not a lot of people have ever one that.”
But what if nobody has? What if you’re the first person to ever do it?
We have lots of records or so-called “important” milestones—The first guy to reach the north pole (Santa of course), fly around the world, hit 50 home runs in a season, eat 60 hot dogs in 12 minutes.
But what about the stuff that doesn’t matter?
The other day I was playing pool in my basement with my brother Pat. It was during our rousing game of 15-ball that I assert Pat became the first person on the planet to skip a cue ball off a pool table, and have it land on a Playstation 3 controller.
Think about all of the pieces involved, and how unlikely it is that they come together. It’s not often that you hit the cue ball off the table. Sure, when you mess around all the time and attempt the number of jumps we do, it does happen more frequently, but in the greater world it just doesn’t happen.
Then take into consideration the placement of most billiards tables in the world. How many of them are even in the same dwelling, let alone the same room as a Playstation 3? Then you have to have the controller within striking distance, and in a position to be struck by the cue ball. Line up the angles just right, and bam, you’ve got history.
I’m still pondering whether to get him a trophy. Maybe just a gift certificate to the Selinsgrove Sub Shop.
A pictorial version of the feat (recreated):
For about 15 years my grandparents lived out in the “country” in Virginia, about 40 minutes from my house. They had five acres with a huge weeping willow tree in the front yard and a field of a thousand pine trees in the back.
With an aunt and cousins in the area as well, it seemed we went there a few times a month to celebrate something—a birthday, holiday, or just let’s get together day. In the summer we’d stay there for a week, which was probably designed half as a mini-vacation for us and half as a respite for my mother.
The big draw to us was the pool. Sitting in the back yard nestled inside a ring of hedges, the water bore the brunt of our leisure time. There were rafts, noodles, masks, goggles, things to dive after, and a slew of balls including a few beach balls.
We made up umpteen games using some or all of those things, or in the case of my brothers and I, we just smacked the balls at each other until someone got sufficiently pissed to throw it over the hedges. That was usually followed by a “Gosh, why’d you do that, idiot.” And a swift, “Shut up.”
The great thing about the beach balls is that they float, if you get hit it stings for a second but no permanent damage, and if you’re being pummeled, you can use the previously mentioned method of stopping your beating.
But maybe those reasons, well two of them, are precisely why you don’t actually see beach balls at the beach. Think about it. I can’t remember ever seeing one.
They float easily. That means when the kids are playing too close to the water, as kids are wont to do, the thing gets swept into the sea. Now if you act quickly enough, that’s not too much of a problem. Dive in, swim a couple of strokes and get the ball back.
But if you’re a parent chilling on the beach, relaxing for one of the few times all year where you can sit in the sun and just read a damn book, are you diving in after a ball you got for $1.99? Not a chance. That sucka is gone.
Sure, the kids might whine about how they don’t have a ball anymore, but hey, that’s just life lesson time. Kids, if you want things, don’t let them go into the ocean.
The same thing goes for the ball’s lightness qualities. The breeze along the water is virtually ever-present. If that thing’s not tied down in some manner, or snugly inside the giant whole the kid dug, it’s going to be headed down the beach in a second.
Maybe you’ll run into a good Samaritan who’s paying attention and snags the ball, waiting for a worried kid to come running up the beach to retrieve his wares. But most likely, you’re sitting in that chair saying: “Hey dude, look at this kid running after that ball. He’s never going to catch it. Let’s see how long he runs after it!”
Come to think of it, I may know where all those beach balls went. Someone check Barry Bonds’ pecs.
And if you’ve never seen a turtle attack a cat, you’re welcome.
I just finished watching Apocalypto, which I highly recommend. I went to my Netflix list to set up my next string of movies and to browse for some new selections.
You can rate movies, and based on what you’ve liked they’ll give you some suggestions. The best part is that they’ll tell you why they recommend a certain title. And that’s where the fun of computers made my day.
Suggestion: Cocaine Cowboys- a documentary about cocaine smuggling in Miami in the ’80s.
Because you liked: The Office (Season 2)…and my favorite- Blow.
Ok, I can sort of understand Blow. I liked a movie that was all about cocaine trafficking. That doesn’t necessarily mean I like cocaine or want to see more movies about its distribution, but at least there’s a connection there.
But The Office? Maybe this is the season where someone finds a blunt in the parking lot and everyone in the office has to go through drug testing to find out the identity of the company pothead. But how on Earth does that mean I’ll like a documentary about cocaine trafficking?
The other picks make a bit of sense. I liked The Simpsons Season 6, so I might like The Simpsons season 3. It gives me Toy Story because I liked Monsters, Inc.
And then there’s this gem: All Deliberate Speed. It’s a documentary about the Brown v. Board of Education case, and frankly one I actually am interested in seeing. But the three movies I rated that led to this recommendation are Glory, All The President’s Men and Bowling For Columbine. Not too sure what those have to do with Brown v. Board…
“Why not live it up, take the risk, and do the thing you’re meant to do.”
The final quote in the movie 10mph, a documentary about a team of people who quit their jobs to ride a Segway across the United States.
I seem to be drawn to things like this lately, or maybe I just notice them more. I’m currently reading Thoreau’s Walden, a book he wrote while living on hiatus from society in a cabin he built himself next to a pond.
Now I’m not too sure I could build a cabin if I wanted to, and I am pretty sure I would injure myself trying to ride a Segway. But those were other people’s quests. I don’t know what mine is, or what it could be. That will sort itself out.
For now, I’m relishing the opportunity. After spending the last year completely wasting away in something that was completely unfulfilling and not only didn’t lead to personal growth, but rather regression, I quit. That period is done. Tomorrow I head to the beach for nine days with absolutely no commitments other than a few rounds of golf. The rest is just going to happen how it happens, where it happens and when it happens.
Sitting on my beach partner’s deck the other day eating grilled hot dogs, I said “I feel great about life right now. I’m unemployed and feel better than I have in a long long time.”
How often do you hear those things in the same sentence? That’s what happens when you get sidetracked by certain aspects of life and lose focus on the rest. I know exactly what I don’t want to do in life, and if it took a year of disappointment and frustration to better elucidate that in my head, I’m glad I went through that experience.
I’d like to think what I went to school for is what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s something I enjoy and something I think I’m pretty good at. But who knows. There’s an infinite world of possibilities out there, and after nine days of cleaning the slate, we’ll see what the next round of chalk has in store.
I’ve spent many hours talking with some of you about this experience. You’ve gone through the same thing, or are right behind me in the boat manning the oars. Nobody told us it could be this way right? It seemed like we got on the right path, went to school, did the unpaid internships and were supposed to be picked up into the system. But then came the special requirements about the experience we don’t have and that seemingly ubiquitous other candidate that they’re going to go with instead.
That’s fine. There’ll be another opportunity. The bills beckoned, so we changed the focus to a stop-gap. And that sucked.
At the same time, our friends got jobs before they left school or right after they got back from that great vacation. They found fulfilling work and loved their bosses. We kept trying.
At some point I started to see rejection as a sign of something else. It was like being in a video game and thinking I’d finished a level, only there was something I didn’t pick up or some button I still needed to press for the game to let me move on. I was at the building, circling it like a hawk looking for a meal, but just couldn’t find the damn door to get inside. I’d go to work and try to take a step back and see what lesson I could glean from a seemingly dead-end situation. What was I supposed to be learning before I got my chance? Who was I supposed to meet? What conversation was I supposed to have?
I’m not sure I ever had that moment or that lesson, or if it even exists. But in that process of stepping back I was able to see the ridiculousness of what I was doing. Life’s too short to hate what you’re doing. Unless of course that’s something quick and simple like eating lima beans. Eat your lima beans. But if it’s day after day, encounter after encounter that just makes you want to run from the building, lace up your shoes and get out.
I’m a fan of the band Barenaked Ladies, and on of the first cds I ever purchased they have a song called “Never is Enough.” The chorus goes, “I think never is enough yeah never is enough, I never want to do that stuff.” It talks about backpacking through Europe, working in retail, etc. I’ve heard the song a hundred times, and it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that one line really hit the essence of my situation: “You get your Ph.d, how happy you will be, when you get a job at Wendy’s and are honored with employee of the month.” (yes I quoted that a few days ago, sorry). Now I’m a step below Ph.d, but I like to think I was a step above Wendy’s so it all averages out. Oh and my company didn’t do employee of the month. I might have lost to one of the mannequins.
But when your situation is used as an argument in a song about the ridiculousness of what people are doing with their lives, it’s hard not to laugh at yourself and commit to the change you’ve been wanting.
So nine days of decompressing and pondering what lies ahead.
Maybe Thoreau will teach me how to build a cabin.
It’s National Hot Dog Month, and also July 4th. Is there a more perfect time to eat six hot dogs in one day? I didn’t think so.
For the record, two were boiled for lunch and the other four were grilled for dinner.
I’m also now unemployed, and about to head to the beach for nine days. Life is good.