So Many Thoughts...

Over two years ago, I began writing this blog under the title Thoughts and Adventures, hoping to include many stories and accounts of both. This fall has seen me undertake very few adventures in the outdoor/exploration sense. I've left the Cities only a handful of times in the past few months, and the most adventurous of those occasions was perhaps a beautiful afternoon hike at a nearby state park. Hardly bushwhacking in Colorado. This isn't the end of my world explorations, however; in fact, even as Brooke and I write the final draft of our vows (now to be spoken in a mere five days) we very intentionally included a promise to be each others' partners in adventure. But for now, the call of work and school has kept us both on a short tether.

This is not to say that my present life is devoid of adventure! As it turns out, thanks to both my fall class at Hamline and my job, my very thoughts are a constant adventure! The class in which I am currently enrolled is called Theory to Practice, which essentially means that we read and explore the thoughts of many different theorists and then come to class and have fascinating discussions about what we actually do in class: How do we set expectations? How do we create assignments? How to we assess student learning? How do we manage a classroom???

This last question is of special interest to me because of part of my current job experience. Aside from my rather mundane chore of delivering mail and teacher copy requests, I spend half of my day supervising students in a study hall/independent learning center. And for an extra-special three hours after school on Wednesday, I have the opportunity to supervise Wednesday School - a three-hour detention for naughty students. The "Learning Lab" (as it is known) is a wonderful exercise in setting expectations, building positive rapport, and motivating students. Wednesday School on the other hand...

Let's just say that Wednesday School is kind of like my own personal 3 credit-hour laboratory for Classroom Management Skills. There I am given a list of strict rules, handed down by the administration, and a room full of rowdy kids who would rather not be in said room (also handed down by the administration). As I reflect on the many ideas we discuss in class (and write papers about them) I get the opportunity to try these very skills out! On real-life rowdy students!

Alas, though I think and think about all the factors of student motivation and behavior, day in and day out, it's all I can do to plan for a wedding and keep up with my school work. My journal has fallen into disuse, and this blog suffers a similar fate. But not for lack of thoughts or adventures! My current adventure begins like this:

One classroom management author we're reading (Harry K. Wong, if you're familiar with him) is a HUGE proponent of being up front with students regarding expectations, rules and procedures. Tell them exactly how things will go, and watch things go that way. After my first week of anarchy in Wednesday School, I decided to begin the next session by distributing a list of rules, then going over them, and then nonchalantly but strictly following my own rules. And we had silence for two hours, with only a bit of growing rowdiness by the end. 

But NOW... my classmates and I have all chosen different books to read on classroom management, and I have begun reading Beyond Discipline by Alfie Kohn, a somewhat controversial person in the field of education. Now I am reading very compelling arguments that call me to question my very rules! AND the methods of coercion by which I enforce them!

When I demand silence, is it reasonable? Is it harmful to enforce my rules through threats of office referrals? Is the very existence of detention by nature coercive and harmful??? At this point I don't know. I'm only three chapters into the book, and I'm not sure I agree with all that Kohn is saying. But the adventure surely continues to play out in my mind. And however I am thinking tomorrow afternoon, I will still have a room full of talkative kiddos who don't believe they deserve Wednesday School. (Maybe they don't...)

------

One other thought to add, before I sign off for the night: While I was initially excited about biking to my new job, the time saved (over an hour each day) by not biking has led me to faithfully join the masses of the so-called "commuters." I now proudly fire up the NPR in little Moses every morning at 7:20, and drive my 15-20 minutes to work.

One thing that struck me as I drove home today: I now think of my 15-minute commute as "a short drive." Have I really become that desensitized already? When I used to live in the small town of Bellefontaine, Ohio fifteen minutes would get me to my friend's house in the next city. If I heard of someone driving fifteen minutes to work I would think, "why doesn't he just move to the other city?"

It's not bad. It's just different. I used to live in a small town (for the last 24 years) and wonder if I could ever stand to live in a big city. I guess I can, but it's taking some getting used to.

A(nother) Blog in (Slightly More Than) 10 Minutes

And yet again three weeks have slipped by along with three weeks' worth of good intentions about "writing every day! even if just for ten minutes!" Let's be real. But I would love to write more.

Part of the craziness lately has been trying to finish out my first term at Hamline, and being met with large papers to write on top of major presentations and the usual underlying humdrum of reading lots and lots of sometimes-very-boring material. Just yesterday I passed a major milestone in completing a 12-page research paper that started out exploring the benefits/downsides to year-round schooling and ended up being a 12-page treatise on how potentially awesome the calendar can be for students and teachers alike. It's ironic too because one of the many reasons I initially wanted to be a teacher was for the long summer vacations...

Another realm of activity in my live has been moving into a new apartment. This process began over three weeks ago, moving a few boxes into a storage unit in the basement of my new apartment building, which is approximately 6 blocks from my old apartment and a mere 2.5 blocks from Brooke's house. I then left for PA for a week, came back on the 31st and had a crazy moving in session that very evening with Brooke and her family. (Many thanks to Joe and Luanne and the great big van!) And now I'm in the process of slowly reclaiming items from Pittsburgh, trip by trip, and trying to pack them into my tiny little apartment, lovingly named "the dungeon." What's worse, since I know that I should be working on homework, it takes an extra effort of willpower to not unpack all the boxes of cool stuff that I've been missing since December.

A few other things everyone should know. My new apartment building is right across the street from a large park. Brooke and I have a folding card table that we keep leaning against a wall near my door, and we try to have dinner in the park as much as possible, which is all too infrequently. Also, way back while I was working at the bike shop, I managed to piece a new bike together for myself with some new parts and some old parts. It's a bit more friendly for commuting, and it is very much a work in progress. It will hopefully get some studded tires for this winter and maybe some better gear ratios when Brooke and I finally get around to our goal of light touring. The bike is named "Jeconiah." Brooke and spellcheck don't think this is a legitimate name, but it's totally biblical. Look it up.

Cheers.

A Blog in 10 Minutes

Lately I've been having difficulty writing papers. It's not that I'm not a good writer; in fact I've gotten top marks on all papers submitted so far. The problem is more one of timing. Namely, I read and research and reflect, sometimes even pre-write and outline, and then when I get to the actual paper I freak out. I sit and stare and manage to squeeze one sentence out of my brain every few minutes. I ultimately average (and this has been pretty much consistent since undergrad) about one page per hour. Talking to (and getting constructively scolded by) Brooke, I realize that that's not very fast. and that I could do better.

This past weekend was a doozy. Brooke and I were to head up North to do some relaxing (before I headed out East for a family vacation), BUT several things happened. I got sick and I had two papers to write over the weekend (plus plenty of assigned reading). So I did take a work day, and I got one good paper written (at the page-an-hour rate) and the other outlined, but that leaves me with a night class tonight at 5pm, one paper left unwritten, a vacation to pack for and an apartment to move out of.

So, why am I wasting time blogging? My goal here is to "warm up" with some train of thought writing. My biggest problem in writing is that I want it to be perfect coming out of my mind. But that's not how writing works. You edit to make it perfect. And I'm even a good editor!!! Sooooooo, I'm hoping to pump myself up to crank out 5 rough pages on my educational philosophy in an hour, do some laundry, come back and edit a bit, and so forth.

With my remaining three minutes...

One blog post I wanted to write last night would have been titled, "My Last Day Here and Noor Hooked Me Up with a Pizza." That blog would have discussed my upcoming move (to a new, nearby apartment - this one a studio: tiny but not shared with anyone), how this is my last day living in this apartment, how it was going to be a hectic day... AND how on this day that I would scarce find time to even feed myself, Noor left a nice box of Pizza Hut pizza on the table - up for grabs.

Another post that never materialized in days past spoke of new changes for me. Aside from the new apartment, last Wednesday I found out that I got a job that I had interviewed for - at North High School in North St. Paul. It will be 30-35 hours/week as an Education Assistant, presumably helping small groups of struggling teen get caught up on school work. The job sounds fun, the pay is considerably better than the bike shop job (which I quit several weeks ago), and though it is a solid 9 miles away, there is a beautiful rails-to-trails bike trail that takes me most of the way there. So life is good. As long as I can keep typing this quickly.

What Do These Two Things Have in Common?

Answer: They both help me study!

While things like Saving Papers For The Last Minute or Not Sleeping Enough detract from my efficacy as a student, repeated studies have shown that nothing helps me focus better than Beethoven's piano sonatas and a good ol' cup-o-joe.

[Today's blog was brought to you by Bodum, Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, and by the letter R!]

The News

Here are some headlines and news from my life today:

Homework, Job and "Having a Life" Combine to Make Young Man Anxious
I have so many assignments stacked up, job applications to fill out and gardening chores that I want to do that I literally didn't fall asleep for over an hour last night. Furthermore, I'm not doing a good job of prioritizing those good things in life that make it worth going through all the stressful times. I was planning to quit my job later this summer, but I may advance the expected last day by a few weeks.

Journalist Interviewed: Trying Times for Newspapers... and Photographers
I carpooled to a school tour with a colleague this morning and had the opportunity to hear some of his life story. He studied journalism in college (in the 80s) and got a job as a photojournalist for the St. Paul newspaper The Pioneer Press. Apparently no one reads newspapers any more. He was laid off in 2002, made it as a freelance photographer a number of years after that, and more recently couldn't even make it doing that. Now he's in his first semester at Hamline - same as me - getting licensed to teach communications.

Camping Gear Still Strewn About
I got off the water with Brooke and friends last Monday after a four-day canoe trip. It poured rain the last day out, so I hung up a makeshift clothesline in my room to dry stuff out. I've been slowly putting things away, but there's still plenty to go.

Craigslist Leads to Interesting and Potentially Helpful Guy
I have a new bike. His name is Jeconiah. Actually, he's just a new frame I bought with some birthday cash with all of my old components swapped over. I'm currently trying to sell some of the old parts that didn't transfer on Craigslist, and I missed a great trade opportunity by 4 hours. C.J. was the guy behind the almost trade and when I called him back today, he still took the time to ask about what I was looking for - a crank, long cage derailleur. He "knows people" and alerted me to the bargain finds to be had at local "swap meets." Apparently he trades for parts, builds up bikes and knows a lot of similar people. Though he only just met me over the phone, he'll "get back to me" with some potential used parts I'm looking for. Score(?).

Government Shut-down Foils Family Plans
Thanks to stubborn lawmakers in the State Capitol building that is just a few miles from my apartment the entire state government might shut down in 7 hours. News usually just passes in one ear and out the other, leaving me about as politically informed as my bicycle, but this story is hard to ignore. Several of my colleague are realizing they may not be getting paychecks this week - a sobering thought. Fortunately for me the worst direct impact on my life will be the closure of the state park Brooke, her family and I were going to relax in over the holiday weekend. One positive* side: perhaps the government contracted construction workers will stop loudly driving their bulldozers up and down my street while I'm trying to study.

New Study: Can Cookies Lead to Obesity?
My housemate Noor is apparently the lead researcher on this one. And I am the experimental group, n=1. He brought home a tray of 84 cookies that he received for free yesterday, and rather than eating them all he left a note reading "please, help yourself." Also, consider that Brooke and I are low on groceries and time to cook...

*really just for me. Again, mostly sobering for the actual workers.

Head Above Water

Turns out school is more difficult than I thought - at least when juggled with work, planning for a trip, job searching and having a life.

I'd write more, but notice how "blogging" didn't make the list of things with which I was juggling school.

Suffice it to say I have more [b]logs to post, I would like to keep blogging, and life is pretty busy right now. Presently I have some more Ed. Psych. to read before class tonight and a trip to the good ol' BWCAW slated for tomorrow.

[blub]

The [B]log: April 30, 2011 - Day 3

As I finished typing the last sentences of my last (for now) blog post somehow a little piece of my subconscious knew that I would receive my first SASE from my good friend Jonny, and that it would be very prompt. As if on cue, a letter did arrive from Jonny (and his wife Hannah) as quickly as the USPS made possible. After a long (and busy!) day at the shop, followed by a delicious Indian feast at a nearby restaurant I found the letter lying on the table just inside the door.

I wasn't really sure of what I was doing/planning when I unofficially announced that I planned to continue blogging... and then offered continued receipt of said [b]logs via SASE. First of all, I had no idea if anyone would even bother with the time and money (88¢ + 2 envelopes) involved. Also, I didn't have a ny particular writing plans... although these daily exercises have been nice and might as well be continued. And now that I have at least one paper log "subscriber" I have a greater purpose behind these thoughts... I am... a Logger!


Another more immediate effect of the letter (for a letter it was, as well as a SASE!) was to make me excited. I still have a few pen and paper correspondences, and I think half the reason for this is my innate love of tangible memorabilia and all things antiquated. I get this from both parents. I have a pocket watch (waiting on a fob), a physical ledger book, and an old cigar box with recipes on index cards. In high school I would collect paperback classic novels, half as much for the weathered artwork on the covers as for the literary value. And I love letters. So maybe, if I'm being honest with myself, a request for SASEs was partly a clever, subconscious trick to get mail! Score!


But also, as I read over Jonny's friendly words, this letter did well to remind me of the joy of paper correspondence. When I was composing the auto-reply "vacation responder" for my email account I was envisioning most of my communication during this time period as phone-centered. But hey, why not mail some letters too? Catch up on some correspondences? Yeah it costs money, but what's 44¢ these days? Sure it takes time (i.e. - is not instantaneous), but 2 days plus a few hours isn't really that long... So hooray for snail mail


Finally, I've just remembered that I wanted to make some predictions (not the right word) about this month. What do I fear? What do I think will be challenging? etc... One guess I had was that trivial searches would lose their appeal; so far that's been true. If googling an obscure law/fact/thing is no longer an option then the back of my mind will stop urging me to a computer throughout the day. I do think it will be difficult to get by without conveniences such as: apartment-searching, job-searching, obscure item purchasing (with home delivery!)... and checking the weather. Today I woke to pouring rain, psyched myself up, bundled up in rain gear, bike to work... and then couldn't fit all my rain gear into my small backpack when the ride home happened to be sunny and gorgeous. Who could have guessed?


I'll ponder more later. Now to bed! I've got some serious relaxing to do tomorrow!

The [B]log: April 29, 2011 - Day 2

Wow! Several days of cold weather and then today was gorgeous! Even by 9:20 when it came time for me to bike to work. One of my past computer addictions that I must now learn to live without is wunderground.com - the amazing weather site. The day looked beautiful - not a cloud in the sky - so I left for work with only a sweatshirt - not even a jacket in my trusty backpack. (Also of note: I broke down and bought a bike-specific map of the Twin Cities with my employee discount at work. I took a more "bike friendly" route this morning and was rewarded with prettier scenery, less traffic and few red lights!) By 6 PM it was raining buckets. Ah yes, that's what it feels like to not be able to read the weather's forecast... By 7 PM I somberly called for a ride from Brooke when I got off at 9. She arrived at 8:30 (with my sister - visiting for the weekend and wanting to check out the shop) and there was no rain to be found. The roads had even retained enough heat that all residual moisture on the roads had *evaporated*! Whoops! So I biked home in the end. Lesson learned: when you don't know what to expect from the weather, be prepared.

The [B]log: April 28, 2011 - Day 1

I woke up early today - not of my own accord like the last two days but because a construction worker bulldozing our street rang the doorbell to ask if it was my Silverado parked outside. (It wasn't.) And now I am up. The spot on my desk where my computer used to be looks strangely empty. (I disassembled my computer, putting battery and power cord in one drawer, computer elsewhere.) Last night I partially filled the space with my recipe box and my new ledger. Still, I keep automatically turning to that space - looking for something.

The first thing I did, once I decided that I wasn't going to fall asleep again, was actually to walk right past my desk and head upstairs for a pre-breakfast snack. Fortunately Noor - my housemate who works at Pizza Hut - brought home a pizza for sharing last night. I wandered back downstairs nibbling on a piece. Then what? Without a computer there's really nothing that draws me to my desk, other than the fact that my only chair is there. (I shouldn't say "only." I have a cushy chair that actually isn't that comfortable that I mostly use to drape articles of clothing on.) I sat down in the end and wondered what I should do. That wondering is kind of funny... like it's this void created by the sudden lack of this thing in my life. It's kind of like when you've been busy at school and you wake up to your first day of summer vacation. You wander out of your room, are encountered by the void your former routine has left and pronounce, "I'm bored." Hopefully I won't be bored for long. And actually, this may be the first time I've written in the morning. I kind of like it. But no I have some phone calls to make before work...

The [B]log: An Intro

So, remember that time that I went for a month without using a computer? In my last post I mentioned keeping a paper blog (log), and I now intend to post those recorded thoughts here, in electronic form. When I made the comment about sending me a SASE two posts ago, I was serious. Only one person took me up on that offer, and I sent him a nice photocopied log. But now I'm back to conforming to the world.

Behold, the [b]log:

99 Problems, But A Vole Ain't One

When life gives you lemons, they say, make lemonade. But when life wakes you up at 3 in the morning and then prevents you from falling asleep again... touché. Life wins. I guess I'll blog.


Obviously, I'm no longer depriving myself from the use of my computer. In fact, I've been using it for a week or so now. I did manage to keep a (b)log of sorts on paper for a while - soon to be transcribed into the cyber-world - but the "research" wasn't nearly as ambitious as my initial dream.


I've been busy lately, but what's new? Actually, quite a bit is new. In the past month I have applied to grad school, begun planning a canoe trip, and begun the search for school jobs anew. Then, just yesterday, I found out that I was tentatively accepted to Hamline University's Masters of Teaching program (pending final application review), that I could still enroll in summer classes and that summer classes began next Monday. I also a seemingly ideal job to apply for, through Americorps, began menu planning for the canoe trip and found out that an old friend had also just been accepted to a Masters program at Hamline and might be moving up to the Cities in the near future. Finally, in order to fund grad school (beginning in T minus 3 days), I now have several grants and scholarships to apply for.


When it should have been falling asleep at 11:30 last night my mind was crunching numbers and working logistics. Somehow this was all going to work out. I think. After what seemed like several hours of tossing and turning, I finally managed to let my mind wander enough to slip into unconsciousness...


ONLY TO BE AWAKEN TO THE SOUND OF MOVING AND SCRATCHING! My first instinct was to think "[bleeping] neighbors!" and shut the window. This I did, but the scratching only increased. Next thought was "my, those ants are up early." (I have ants trying to build an anthill in my cheaply-trimmed egress window. I gave up trying to stop them and contained it with a piece of paper and some masking tape.) I turned on my light to confirm my suspicions and YIPE! a rodent was frantically scampering back and forth on my window sill. (Apparently he had fallen into my egress window bay, become trapped and managed to find or chew a hole through my screen, only to be trapped again on my window sill.)


Now at 3 AM my mind was back in action. Room now fully lit, I grabbed my 25¢ garage sale bicycle commuter gloves and closed in for the pounce. Little vole friend (I've ruled out mouse, and he seemed too fast for a mole) did not like this plan and shrieked as he dove off the sill. It was a short fall to the card table where - again he was trapped. Another lunge, another shriek and another dive - this time to the carpet... and full reign of my room. I chased the shrieking little bugger up and down the walls of my room until finally he made it under my closet door. Great. A frightened rodent trapped with all my expensive camping gear (down sleeping bag, down jacket, camping pads, etc) - including my brand new, never-been-used, birthday REI camping pad. By now I was fully awake; vole friend was cruisin' for a bruisin'.


I finally managed to nab him, nestled under a jacket. I foolishly wasted time (as he tried to chew through my glove) taking this picture:

He managed to escape from me once. I tracked him down once more. Then finally I [stupidly] managed to shove him back out the hole in my screen. Then I tried to fall asleep to him scampering around in my window bay. Various thoughts came to mind including but not limited to: creating a make-shift ramp (a la Brooke rescuing a rat from a pit toilet with a ladle during her time in Mozambique), throwing him food occasionally and keeping him as a window pet, or letting the little blighter tunnel out.


I turned the lights back on, donned the lobster glove once more, took out my window screen and spent a few minutes grabbing piles of dead leaves and rocks in vain, while vole friend shrieked and darted. Finally I nabbed him for the last time and chucked him in a bush at ground level. I likewise rescued a more docile toad. By the time I crawled back in bed my mind was back to school budgets, syllabi, grants and schedules. Soon (4 AM) birds were chirping. Then (5 AM) light started entering my room. I gave up.


Now it's 6 AM, I'm all done blogging and I'm beginning to hear the real ants move their little tiny rocks, one at a time.

In Which a Mandatory Recess is Imposed

I'm beginning this post at 11:07 pm and setting the goal for myself to be done by midnight. Mostly I need to get to bed, but also I need to set an ultimatum for myself to actually make this transition. I feel like Bilbo during his preparations to leave the Shire - I'll just leave the ring in this envelope... Oh wait, it's still in my pocket. - it's too easy to continue just a little longer. But, as of April 28, 2011, I will be taking a one-month break from using my computer.

This idea came to me almost immediately after I finished composing my most recent* post. Here, "almost immediately" means that I finished the post, closed my laptop, laid in bed and before I could slip into unconsciousness I was stumbling out of bed for pen and paper to begin jotting down things I might need to acquire in order to live without a computer. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The idea I had so late at night was this: I just spent several hours writing about how I feel that constant access to information (and constantly taking advantage of that power) distracts me from things more meaningful in life. What if I were to simply deny myself that access? I mean, it's one thing to complain about how I lost 2 hours to YouTube yesterday, but it's been my experience that those acts of complaining do nothing to prevent me from doing the same thing the very next day. So why not impose some restrictions on myself? And, for the sake of curiosity, why not boldly impose those restrictions?

[Yikes, I'd better get on with it!] In short, I decided that it would be a good exercise for me to try going without a computer for some period of time. I arbitrarily began thinking in terms of "one month" because it sounded long but not so long that I would cave in before the end. I briefly entertained the idea of giving up just the internet, but upon thinking further I remembered that some of what I was sick of was the daily routine of waking up, turning on my computer... In fact, it's sad but sometimes I come home and I'm bored - or I just can't think of something I "should" be doing - and I'll turn on my computer. And if nothing on my desktop catches my attention in the first 5 seconds, I'll open a web browser. If in the 5-10 seconds that takes I can't think of any urgent question that needs to be answered via Wikipedia, imdb, etc. I'll start going through my bookmarks: blogs, comics, Facebook, the weather... I'll just click on stuff on autopilot, realize what I've done and then try to "remember" what industrious reason I had for being on this site. It's almost like - as Randall Munroe describes in this post - my mindless surfing is somehow physiological, neurological... neurochemically-rewarding or something. ... No, I needed to quit it all for this truly to be an experiment.

Once it was decided that I should trying giving up the use of my computer, my practical mind quickly turned to just what would need to happen before I quit. What were the "essential" tasks that I routinely used my computer for? Correspondence, getting directions, bookkeeping, shopping, checking the weather forecast to name a few. Wow. Suddenly this seemed like more than I might be ready for. Where would I be without Google Maps? without Amazon.com? I started making a list (hence the midnight scramble for pen and paper) of physical objects I would need. A calculator, a ledger book, phone book, a map... Huh. And the funny thing is, I didn't get much further than that. I did live in a big city. Sure Amazon is cheap and convenient and all, but surely I could find a pair of shoes at the local mall. And I do have a phone (and a mailbox). If people really need to get a hold of me, they can - probably even more quickly by phone than by email. Turns out life without a computer might not be that difficult; we're just to complacent to realize it.

I ordered a calculator, ledger book and map of St. Paul from Amazon.com. Providence sent a phone book to the front doorstep the very next day. I ordered a book of checks from my local credit union and I was set. (I even sent back the map of St. Paul. It was pretty lousy for $8.)

Finally, I had to "make my final preparations." And this is what took over 2 weeks. Every time I would think I might be ready to begin my experiment some pressing thing (plane tickets, apartment searches, ... whatever) would come up and delay me. But as this thing has weighed heavier on my back I've begun to realize that there will never be an end to the things I "need" my computer for. But my hypothesis is that I will slowly discover how little I actually "need" anything so petty as a machine. This morning in a frenzy of internet searches and printing I resolved that today would be the last day. And so it is.

I have 2 more minutes. In closing, I would like to say that I do not want to stop blogging for a month. If anything, I'm hoping to use some of my newfound free time to write more. Though it might be more accurately called "logging"... or something (?). In any event, I haven't figured out the details, but if you want to keep reading what I write, send a SASE to

1012 Burgess Street
Saint Paul, MN 55103

and I'll figure out some way to get what I write on a page for you. My time is up. Good night internets. Good night computer.


* "recent" being 2.5 weeks ago - further testimony to the addictive hold my computer has held on me.

The Distractions of Matthew

[9 pm - I turn on my computer, intending to begin writing this post. Instead, I research freehub body compatibility between 7-speed v. 8/9/10-speed cassettes. My question: is it possible to retrofit an older bike with a 7-speed cassette with modern, integrated shift/brake levers, which happen to be only produced for 8/9/10-speed bikes?


...


10 pm - I actually start writing.]


I was going to start writing a lot earlier this evening, but I got distracted. And that's funny because that was going to be the whole point of my post tonight.


Today - a Sunday - I actually slept in, coming off a four-day-straight, open-to-close working streak. Three eleven-hour days, on my feet and dealing with plenty of customers, finished off with a crazy Saturday finale which consisted of everyone and their brother bringing their rusty and dusty (and covered in cat hair???!??) bikes out of their garages after a winter of storage and saying "Could you make this work again?"


[At this point I get distracted by my background music - De La Soul on their album Buhloone Mindstate. They were a pioneering rap group back in the late 80s/early 90s with excellent rhymes. I pause to look up the lyrics to the song Area. Before I get back to blogging, I note that my computer desktop background has been the same for over a week. I search through pictures, finding one of the family cat Hobbes for a suitable background, becoming nostalgic for a number of people of places in the process. Seeing pictures of Pittsburgh remind me that I need to email my former housemates about my stuff being stored there. During the time it takes me to compose an email Brooke emails me a link to a trailer of a movie she thinks looks good. I watch it (Incendies. Looks good.)... return to blogging.]


So like I was saying, prior to today I had been working like a dog. Not to mention that the day before this huge work extravaganza I had spent 8 hours in the bike shop (a nice perk of the job - free use of the shop whenever I'm off the clock) to perform complete overhauls of my and Brooke's bicycles - disassembling, cleaning and re-greasing every moving part, and replacing chains, cables and cable housing.


[Wow, have I really been writing for five whole minutes? Oh yeah, I should finish trying to figure out why I didn't get my last issue of National Geographic before I forget. I go to the website, navigate a million pages, finally find the customer service page - and phew. I did remember to request a replacement issue. Wouldn't want to miss reading about Incas. What was I writing about? I re-read what I've written thus far...]


So, today was relaxing. Still, why do I always feel as though I'm busy. I mean, an eleven hour work day with a 20 minute commute each way is still only 12 hours away from home. I'm awake at least 16 hours a day. Sure I try to spend quality time with Brooke and that takes its share of time, but where does the rest go?


[I get distracted by music again. This time the song Trouble in the Water, still by De La Soul. I look up the lyrics. I pause, remembering the days of middle school - back when music was an event in itself. I would save up and buy an album. Then I would spend - literally - hours listening to the album over and over again, memorizing lyrics, humming the bass line with my deepening voice... Then I remember back to my college saxophone/improvisation instructor telling me that half the secret to playing and feeling jazz was to just sit down and LISTEN to music. Sit down, grab a beer ("or whatever you drink") and put on a good pair of headphones - and just listen. Listen to an album once through for overall form. Is this song AABA? Or ABA? Then listen again, following the soloist. Listen how his solos fit the structure of the song... Hmm. In our culture of iPods and illegally downloading music to the point of music libraries stretching to the realm of tens (hundreds?) of gigabytes, when do we ever actually listen to music. Music is now a second, third or even fourth element of this newly-heralded thing we call 'multi-tasking.' What was I writing about?]


Ah yes, I believe I was about to hint at the thesis of this post: In this modern, technological age people of my generation suffer a good deal of inefficiency as well as loss of quality of life by the constant and nearly infinite accessibility of information. And then I think I was going to flesh that out in another few paragraphs, but oh dear me. Look at the time. I've been "blogging" for nearly an hour already. At least I have my introduction...


But I feel that my lengthy and [What is that word??? <"abnormal"> Hmm... "anomalous"... not sure that was it, but that sounds good.] anomalous intro almost makes my case for itself. The more this idea (that constant access to information might actually be a bad thing) comes up in my mind, the more I become aware of it being manifest in my own life. How many times do I go to check the weather before I ride to work... and then catch up on my favorite webcomics, find a reference to an obscure mathematical principal, only to spend 30 minutes on Wikipedia (but it can't be all bad; I'm educating myself!) thus making myself late for work?. And how many times do I wake up with a refreshing agenda (such as waffles, yoga and an hour of reading), decide to first check my email, get distracted for hours and then realize that I haven't actually done any of the refreshing, life-giving things I was looking forward to?!


One more case study before I begin to wrap up and sign off. The year after I graduated from Goshen I lived with a house full of dudes. Being cheap and resourceful, we signed up for a year of Skype phone service (with a physical internet phone from which we could call long distance numbers, as well as receive calls), facilitating this convenience with an old laptop that sat in our dining room, nearly always turned on, thus enabling our phone. As a byproduct of this setup, we had a computer with internet access already switched on literally inches from every meal shared together. The result was that every (these are going to be exaggerations, for effect) movie discussed was immediately checked out on imdb.com; every debate over factual information was settled via Wikipedia; rumors of new love affairs on campus were verified using the ubiquitous tool Facebook [Google search: "define ubiquitous"... oh good, I did use it correctly]; and of course every new mention of the discovery of an internet meme resulted in looking it up and spending hours being mindlessly entertained. It was fun, and I don't think any of us (myself included) have regrets... but...


But what? Is this bad? Is it bad/wrong to be able to know anything/everything within a few seconds? (Thanks to 3G/4G smartphones, we can now have this convenience anywhere we have cell phone coverage... which is becoming more and more places.) I really don't feel like I can say. On the one hand it's a totally subjective question, and on the other I can see enough benefits and detriments that I don't even have a solid opinion.


The one certain thing is that if I could somehow wean myself entirely of the internet I would make much better progress in my current book...


[An addendum, 4/11/11: This morning I walked over to Brooke's house at 7:30; we were planning to go for a walk then. She was not at her door, so I went inside to find her. She was awake but not yet ready, and I noted her open laptop. "Sorry, I got distracted," she said, "I was trying to figure out how to make my little bamboo plant grow better..."]

Settling In

Today was my fourth day at Erik's. Already the work that I am doing comes more naturally. I intuitively know which allen wrench to grab for a crank (8mm) or a pinch bolt (5mm). I still stupidly stand around sometimes when I don't know what to do next, but all the veterans understand. I'll get it some day.

Yesterday while biking to work a guy with a long beard on a fendered bicycle rode up behind me and introduced himself (Chris). I recognized him as the guy I had zipped by the day before during the same commute. (Theoretically I'm social, but when it comes to making new friends... I'm out of practice. And making new friends while cycling? For me there is no precedent.) I told him I had just gotten a job at Erik's. "Nice. As sales or a wrench?" His question caught me off guard. I ruled out sales and in doing so learned that I am now - by the nomenclature of some - a "wrench." Cool. We chatted for a bit - he's a 12-year bike mechanic veteran himself, quite coincidentally - and then rode off on our separate ways.

Coming home from work last night, after working my first 11-hour day, I was accompanied by my manager Alex on his bike. He's a nice guy - young and likable (I suppose you have to be to succeed enough in sales to become a manager) - and apparently he lives not far from my home. It was fun to chat with him during our ride. I guess I've officially been introduced to the culture of bike commuting. Now I just need the blaring yellow jacket...

One quick snapshot of Alex: Today I overheard him on the phone with a customer, agreeing with something, "Right on, sir."

My First Day of Work (and the Stuff That Preceded It)

The only thing about my first day of work that was not awesome and hopeful was this.

But let me go back a bit, as I haven't written for while. The reason behind my writing hiatus was a rather busy schedule: six days of full-time training last week, preceded by a similarly busy week. I was going to write a cute little blog last week, highlighting some of the sources of busyness, but that busyness prevented me from writing. Had I written that post you would have heard tales of getting pampered by the local squash club trying to secure my membership, taking a tour of a local brewery (with a few obligatory free beers at the end), a Lord of the Rings game night, fighting through the frenzy of the local REI's Scratch and Dent sale to come out with some high quality winter wear for an 1/8th of the original retail price, and much much more. But wouldn't you know, I have other things to do today as well.

I guess I shouldn't complain too much. I've mostly been occupied with fun things. AND one can't claim to be too busy when one stays up 'til 1:30 am finishing a 1000-piece puzzle...

On to training! So, a few posts ago I mentioned that I got hired as a bike mechanic. Now I actually am a bike mechanic - technically a service technician. In order to attain this status, however, I first had to complete a rigorous week of training. What I did not realize when I was first applying for this job was that this bike shop is actually a large, local franchise. In 1977 the name sake of this franchise opened the original shop - as a 13-year old (!) - in his parent's barn. Since then it's grown to have 16 stores in 2 states. What this means for me is that this is the largest company/corporation/business/organization that I have ever worked for! This only struck me after I began my training and was hit with such novelties as: a full-time employee trainer, an HR guy, benefits, computer-managed inventory database... even a company mission statement.

Unfortunately, though I was hired as a mechanic at a store location very near to my house, training was at corporate headquarters - a solid 30-minute drive. And we were supposed to be there early. And to drive there I had to pass through the heart of the cities where traffic was sure to be an issue. The commute was a drag (especially in a freak morning snowstorm on Wednesday), but the actual training was pretty fun.

Brad ('B-Rad' as his name tag read) was our trainer. A middle-aged father of two he was extremely friendly and helpful. One got a sense from the rapid-fire lectures and explanations he would deliver that he was a fountain of mechanical knowledge - so steeped in his course material that he didn't know which helpful trick to show us next. And he would challenge us, sneakily loosening crucial bolts in attempt to hone our diagnosing ability or snipping a laboriously installed brake cable so that practice would make perfect. It was a rigorous training course, but I enjoyed it and got a lot out of it.

The rest of the folk we met at corporate were equally nice. Doug (the HR guy) introduced all of us new trainees to the large corporate family we had become a part of. I was a bit wary of the corporate mumbo jumbo, full of mission statements, employee improvement goals and the like, but as we learned more I became of the opinion that while I was now employed by a large corporate entity, at least it was a pretty nice entity. We had forms to fill out that helped our managers know how we best deal with criticism. They are of the belief that ALL employees are peers and back it up with their open door policy - giving every employee the ability to contact anyone the company (even the founder/CEO) with need for help. Their training policy is that any employee can request more training at any time and it will be honored. Not to mention, they have a pretty sweet employee discount policy (though only for bikes/items purchased for me - sorry bike-loving family and friends). Good stuff.

And just like that six days were over. I graduated basic training, received my 2 standard mechanic-blue shirts and walked out the door - only to walk in the door of my current workplace the very next day. And there I was met with friendly people, a very helpful service manager and a workbench and stand of my own, at which I began wrenching. I'm still fairly low on the totem pole of training (though I mean to soon change that) so most of the work I did yesterday was safety checks on outgoing new bikes sold, but it was a slow day and I'm sure I'll soon see plenty of interesting broken bike scenarios.

Oh yes... also, all the stores have satellite radio. The default station (which apparently no one changes, or is allowed to change) starts the day with some nice reggae and rock, yet in the afternoon it meandered into the realm of pop (like the song in the link above), one for which I don't much care. One small bone to pick. All in all I'd say I'm pretty lucky.

How Moses Leads Brooke and I From Exile

As it happened, the Saturday on which I was offered the bike mechanic job (a great source of relief) was the same Saturday that Brooke's car died (a great source of stress). The car - an old '96 Saturn with over 180,000 miles - was a perma-loan of sorts from Brooke's parents, and we had grown to rely upon it, Brooke commuting to school and me job searching all over the Cities. But its head was cracked (that's car lingo, not a metaphor), oil was leaking into the coolant system, and we weren't sure we wanted to pump money into a car that could soon easily die for other reasons. It had become an ex-car. And yet the passing of the Saturn was also in part a blessing - a chance to gain just a little more independence. (Not to mention, the car lacked personality - even a name! We memorialized it only by whispering a solemn "R.I.P. Little Saturn" as one of it's longer-lived brethren would pass.)

And thus began the long, car-less exile. For a short while, the possibility of not buying another car entered our minds. Yet in a matter of weeks I was to begin my six-day job training in a suburb half an hour away. Also, Brooke's parents and sister, as well as a number of friends, lived a good distance away. Furthermore, neither Brooke nor I particularly enjoyed being in a city every day, and a vehicle was the only real hope of escape to nearby state parks. No, we needed to get another car. But this was easier said than done, especially when we are both poor and our only vehicle just died!

Fortunately, I hadn't begun working yet and was at leisure to car search full-time. And with great generosity Brooke's parents offered to let us borrow one of their vehicles for a few weeks, so we wouldn't be totally stranded. Just when I had turned my back on Craigslist (after a successful job search) I had to come crawling back to look for cars!

So, where to begin? As mentioned before both Brooke and I are to a degree impecunious, so price was a good place to start. Fortunately, both of us were expecting decent tax returns (one benefit to not having money?), and pooling together these resources and other savings/expected income we made a purchasing purse large enough to work with. Fuel economy was the next consideration. We both wanting a cute little 4-cylinder car, so it wasn't too difficult to narrow down the options. Reliability was also a factor (not being able to afford a low-mileage car), so reputable longevity also helped weed out some candidates. The final contestants: the Toyota Tercel/Echo, Honda Civic, Nissan Sentra and Toyota Corolla. Let the search begin!

Me + Craigslist + several days + yadda yadda yadda. Plenty of instances of rising and falling hopes. Dream cars posted on Craigslist and sold within hours. (Once I replied 30 minutes after a Civic was listed [10:30pm], set up a time to meet first thing next morning, and called before I drove over that morning, only to find that he had sold the car the previous night[!].) To make a long story short we found a nice little Tercel at a dealership - only 79,000 miles on the odometer, mostly driven in California - got a mechanic friend (shout out to Bob!) to drive it around, and headed back to the dealer to buy it. When I had looked at it the day before, I think I expressed too much obvious interest (despite earnest attempts to appear indifferent) because though we got him down $500 from the listed price he wouldn't budge from a price we knew to be a bit too high. In the end, we counted the small price inflation a Release from Stress fee and considered ourselves winners.

As for the car itself, Brooke and I both love it. It is teal, cute, and 100% manual: transmission, locks, windows... There aren't even levers that open the trunk or gas lid! You have to get out and open them with the key! The interior feels cheap but cozy, it's clean, and it even has an after-market stereo and speakers. It drives like a dream AND fueleconomy.gov assures me that it should get 30-40 mpg. We love it. As Brooke and I drove back to the dealership at the conclusion of our test drive, she commented on how humble the limited features made her feel. "This car is so humble, like... who was that patriarch who claimed to be the humblest man on Earth? Abraham or Moses? I think it was Moses... plus Moses sounds better." "Okay," I said, "if we buy this car we'll name it Moses."

Thus Moses was brought into our lives and led us from the exile of immobility. And we love him.

(This reminds me that I owe my blog the story of how Guinevere and I parted ways...)

Not Busy for Employed

[I'm running out of relaxing, weekend time to write. Better something than nothing, eh?]

It was good that I took the 2 pm interview. It made my Tuesday absolutely crazy, but it was good that I took it.

The interview at the temp agency was a breeze. It was mostly chatting and discussing my resume. The hiring lady there said she might have something in sales for me... "uh... not sure that's really my strong suit..." I left, reassured that though I wasn't really interested in any of the office jobs they had to offer, I might at least be qualified for some and that - worse come to worse - I might be able to earn some money from them.

I didn't have much time before hitting the road again. I kept my tie on, took a breather and drove Brooke to her job at a coffee shop, where I remained, did some office work for myself (while munching on a courtesy piece of banana bread) and tried to calm my nerves for the bank interview/stage double-whammy to come.

The bank interview went okay. I was uninterested, bored of these interviews (this was my third), and growing sick of corporate sales talk. "What was a time that you set a sales goal for yourself?" "We here at [giant bank] strive to provide excellent customer service. What does that mean to you?" Blah blah blah. It didn't help that I was due to leave for my stage at the cafe. After 20 minutes or so of bank interview I was starting to get antsy, and only after I started getting antsy did I notice that the branch manager still had three pages [!] of interview questions to go. When it got to the part where they asked if I had any questions... I didn't. "Thanks. Nice to meet you. Ciao!"

I raced to the cafe, changed my clothes in the car, didn't have time to eat my packed lunch and rushed inside. Great start. I had brought my newly acquired (thanks, Christmas money) chef's knife, and even with it I felt out of place. I was quickly given the tour of the kitchen and pantry, introduced to the shift manager and BAM: "Okay, we're going to start you off making the mirepoix." The mira-what?

Thus began what was for me more of a culinary school crash course than a second interview. Fortunately the night before I had looked up "knife skills" on YouTube and had picked up a few basic techniques, but for the most part I felt slow and stupid. My small dice consisted of crazily mis-matched rectangular prisms and worse! My "knife skills" were best summed up as cutting things and not cutting off my fingers (barely). The only redeeming aspects of the evening: hanging out with Mario (an Hispanic immigrant also working as a prep cook, who was kind, funny and whistled the Indiana Jones theme song all night), learning to chop herbs super-fast, and getting to nibble on some "not-so-seared" (hence the forfeiture of them to us) scallops. I came home exhausted. Rachel (of Rachel's Bread) spoiled me! Good thing she did too, because if my first major cooking experience had been in a cafe like this (not hers) I may not have walked away with a passion for cooking.

Moving on...

Wednesday: get bank job (from the people I all but blew off as I rushed out the door)

Thursday: accept bank job (only 20 hours/week, but hey, it's something)

Friday: get invited to interview at local bike shop where I applied (please please please I hope please)

Saturday: interview for bike mechanic position (correctly explain why right-side pedals are reverse-threaded; fail to explain the difference between a 3/8" and 12 mm box end wrench) and GET HIRED AS A FULL TIME BIKE MECHANIC AT A SHOP ONLY 3 MILES FROM MY HOUSE!!! (only downside, as my dad pointed out: I will be tempted to spend all of my hard-earned monies on totally awesome - and employee-discounted - bike stuff!)

Did that catch you off guard? It did me. I accepted the job and now have nothing to do* until my training starts in a few weeks. Once again, I narrowly evade the corporate workplace and secure a nice hands-on job to nurture my soul. I've had enough job searching adventures for now.

*Well, I do have some painting I could/should be doing...

Busy for Unemployed...

I've been kept on my toes for the past 24 hours! Let me tell you how.

In the daily craziness that is my job search (my only non-job-searching productive time in the past week has been the 4 hours yesterday morning when our internet was down) I have been busy finding places to apply, editing resumes, making phone calls... [Minnesota accent:] ya know. Yesterday I was winding down after sending out a few new applications and my "job search.xls" spreadsheet told me that it was time to follow up on some past applications.

As it happened, a number of days ago, I applied to a number of bank teller positions at a great many local[ish] banks. There are after all several major bank headquarters in the Twin Cities metro area. Anyway, I made some calls yesterday, scored an interview this morning at one bank, left few messages and... called it a day. Brooke studied on, and I went up to the kitchen to prepare some delicious sausage/bread/apple/onion-stuffed acorn squash.

While I was in the kitchen cooking, I chatted and bumped elbows with my housemate Noor. He was preparing an elaborate feast for his beloved wife Tasnim, who he was picking up from the airport later in the evening. (She had been visiting family in Bangladesh for over a month.) It was only after Brooke and I stuffed our faces with squash that I realized that he intended to invite us to eat with him and Tasnim after she got in (not 'til 10:30). Brooke had to get to bed early, but I rallied, took a shower and tried to think hungry thoughts.

Tasnim arrived right on time and was a pleasure to meet. (Good thing too, as she is now one of my housemates.) We three sat down to a Bangla feast of fried rice and lentils, shrimp and eggs, and I also got a small taste of Bangla hospitality as I was served up a generous serving of the delicious food. I started out with a full belly, tasted some food, quickly developed an appetite again, tried to convince them that I was too full for seconds, ate some seconds anyway, and finally convinced them that I couldn't possibly fit thirds into my stomach. Only by 11:30 did we all mosey on to our beds.

Bright and early the next morning: I woke up groggily, popped a dumpstered bagel in the toaster oven, looked up some directions and put on my nicest shirt and tie. Never mind that one of my shoes was scuffed beyond repair and that a safety pin was preventing my temperamental fly from unzipping itself, I was going to be dashing... motivated... a young professional. (Huh. Bull. But, hey, I am becoming a desperate man, and I might actually possess the skill set to get hired as a teller. "Leasing My Soul to the Devil" I almost called this post...)

The interview went well. There's a chance I will be called to a second interview. As I left I got a call from a different branch of the same bank - a response to a message I had left. Why yes, I would like to interview with you too. I got home, ripped off the tie (no more of that for the day!), put on some more casual clothes and tried to have a coffee date with the pastor of the church where Brooke and I are now attending. He was sick today, so we took a rain check. And then made plans to go out for lunch with Brooke's parents who happened to be in town.

Just before we left for lunch, I followed up on a different bank branch. "Oh. Good. Well, what is your availability like this week?" {ANY TIME!} Brooke, my ever-faithful job coach, mouthed. "Uh, any time is fine." -- "How about today at 3, then?"

And thus it was that after a delicious Mexican buffet ("Not too many beans!" job coach warned) I retied my best tie and headed out the door to another interview. Good practice. I'm getting better at coming off as a motivated, ambitious, career-oriented, young professional. And when I got home, I contacted the hiring manager I had talked to earlier in the morning, to set an interview time. Tuesday at 2 pm was best for her.

I have an interview at a temp agency at 10 am planned for the same day, as well as a stage (hands-on, second interview for a cook position) scheduled from 3 pm - 10 pm. I said that 2 pm would be great.

Noor: my Nordic skiing protégé

Left Jab, Right Hook AND HE'S DOWN FOR THE COUNT!

He enters the ring: Several weeks ago I began job searching here in my new home of St. Paul. A daunting task and one that I'm quite sick of. Having moved so many times in the past year I've also spent a great deal of time job searching. I hate the resumes, the revising, the tailoring... I hate the scanning of want-ads, Craigslist, websites... I hate interviews, formality, dressing up, showing off your abilities... Most of all, I hate the gut-wrenching feeling of knowing that you don't know when or from where your next paycheck will come - nor do you know whether you are being seriously considered at any of these jobs you are applying to.

The opponents circle: I gather information, I suck it up and revise my resumes. I apply and email and submit. I get fatigued but am propelled by the knowledge that I need to find work.

Matthew swings and connects!: At the advice of Brooke (a former employment counselor who helped refugees find jobs) I followed up some applications with phone calls. I was rewarded with two interviews. One, a national tutoring company, made it sound like I could probably work for them. The pay would be good, the hours few - though they would be evenings and weekends. The other interview was at a local cafe - very awesome place - and went quite well. A few days later I was offered a job at the cafe. Not quite full time, decent pay, some weekend work, but I was sure I would enjoy it. But that very morning I saw a posting on Craigslist for an Education Assistant position at a nearby high school. Right up my alley. I asked the owner of the cafe if I could give him an answer in a few days.

He closes in for the knockout blow...: I called the school, got an interview scheduled, and prepped myself and my materials. The interview went well. Granted, I didn't have loads of experience in a school setting, but I thought I would be a good match for the job. AND the job would look great on a future education-tailored resume. Not to mention, it was full time, offered benefits and payed much better than the cafe. Now to wait for their response.

but his opponent wipes the blood from his mouth and shakes it off: I wait and I wait. No word. Finally, today I can't take it anymore. I call the school. Only voicemail. Finally, later in the afternoon I reach the assistant director who helped interview me...

Left jab!: "Sorry, the position's been filled." [dahhhhhhhhhhh! I got my hopes up!!! and for what!] I call up the cafe. Hi, I'm just calling to say I didn't get the other job. I'd love to work for you if you still want me.

Right hook!: "Huh. Well, actually, I've been interviewing some other people since. Tell you what, give me a call back on Friday and I can let you know for sure."

And Matthew is down for the count!: So now I wait... just like I was waiting a few days ago, only this time I don't have a fall-back plan. So much more is on the line. I wait... just like I was waiting a few weeks ago, only I've now been job searching for weeks and I'm weary. I'm like a boxer knocked to the ground, trying to get up - knowing that if I don't I lose. Except I can't lose. I have a rent check to send in a few weeks. I must get back up. But it's soooooo difficult.

[End note: I'm not actually worried yet, just depressed. I have other sources of income for now - enough to get by. And on a good note, Brooke and I are eating like kings and queens for very little a month. So far the goal of cooking with raw, simple ingredients is met! Last night: chili and cornbread...]

I Went for a Walk in My Neighborhood

and this is what I saw...

I'm TOTALLY Gonna Win the Future...

President Barack Obama: "In fact, to every young person listening tonight who's contemplating their career choice: If you want to make a difference in the life of our nation; if you want to make a difference in the life of a child — become a teacher. Your country needs you."

Me [yelling at computer screen while watching the State of the Union address]: "Yes! Yes, Obama! I will help you!"

(Admittedly, I was planning on becoming a teacher anyway.)

Food for Thought

An original title, I know...

As I sat down to a lazy Saturday morning breakfast this morning (nearly afternoon) I reflected on my decadent meal: a homemade buttermilk Belgian waffle, topped with butter, chopped walnuts, apple and maple syrup, coffee on the side. Not thirty minutes earlier my meal had been a collection of 'raw' ingredients: flour, salt, buttermilk, butter, baking soda, maple syrup, coffee beans, egg, apple and walnuts - not a pre-packaged* item among them. What's more, now that I thought about it, all I had eaten for the past week had been prepared by myself (and/or Brooke) from other such raw ingredients. This was a satisfying thought, especially in light of some of recent reading and thinking I've been doing.

I won't pretend to be an expert - or even very knowledgeable - on the subjects of food, the food industry or nutrition. In fact, much of what I have been musing over has come from only one source - an interesting piece of journalism by Michael Pollan titled The Omnivore's Dilemma. Still, the distilled version of what I've gleaned from this book** is this: Corn (as well as number of other crops) has become a commodity in our economy, a process fueled in part by government subsidies. More and more corn is produced on an increasingly larger scale and the end result (aside from the detrimental environmental effects of mono-cropping: erosion, chemical runoff, reduction of genetic diversity in crops, etc.) is lower corn prices (= bad for domestic AND foreign farmers) and a market saturated with cheap corn.

And just what does a nation do with millions of bushels of cheap commodity corn??? One answer is to add value by turning it into an expensive product, say a corn-based breakfast cereal sweetened with corn syrup, fortified with vitamins derived from corn... And behold: a nation that has gone from general stores and open markets selling predominantly raw goods to chain grocery stores that sell meals (frozen or boxed and LOADED with corn-derived ingredients) ready - or "ready in minutes!" - to eat. (Not to mention that most of the meat we eat is fed on a diet primarily comprised of... CORN!)

From here we could go to the realm of nutrition and the purported negative effects of processed food (i.e. high fructose corn syrup) on American health, but already I've written much more than I intended. I'll save the soapbox for a less-lazy day, that is not filled with snow, sun and a promise to teach my housemate how to Nordic ski.

A bit more reflection, to wrap things up: I'm pleased with my recent cooking endeavors. I feel like I'm eating food that is healthier and furthermore, the menu has been varied and delicious: homemade ravioli with cheese and meat filling and homemade tomato sauce, ham and white bean soup, barley and mushroom casserole, baked macaroni and cheese, baked polenta with roasted vegetables. Hopefully this is a trend I can continue. And, future salary increases pending, I also hope to replace more and more of these store-bought raw ingredients with ones that I grow, make, preserve, forage, brew and kill myself - partially in the name of improving my ecological/economic impact and also partially just for the fun of it.

And tomorrow, we're making refried beans and tortillas. This will be my first attempt using lard as a main ingredient. I've long heard of it's deliciousness in all things Mexican, as well as pie crusts and other things, but I've still never tried using it. We'll see how it goes.

Oh, and I would highly recommend The Omnivore's Dilemma to any curious or socially/ecologically/economically-conscious mind.

*I almost said "processed," but I'm not quite that naive. All of these ingredients have been through many machines, been introduced to plenty of additives...

** Actually, this is just what I learned from merely one part of the book. The rest is equally informative and fascinating.

Fast Forward [insert apology for not blogging in many months here]

I have long loved Minnesota Public Radio's A Prairie Home Companion. Though I haven't listened to it very religiously, I occasionally happen upon it by chance on a road trip or at home, while aimlessly searching the frequencies. I particularly enjoy the segment News from Lake Wobegon, in which Garrison Keillor recounts recent events from a small, fictional Minnesota town full of Lutherans, hot dish, and plain & simple everyday life. Like Steinbeck (one of my favorite authors), Keillor has a knack for turning even the most mundane happenings into an emotionally-charged story. I love that. It helps me realize that all of life - especially all the stuff between "major events" - is truly an adventure and worthwhile story, full of interesting character development and surprise plot twists.

As it happened, I was driving a car yesterday evening when a particularly crappy pop song led me by chance to the middle of the News from Lake Wobegon. Keillor was telling the story of a man who was lovestruck, complained of chest pains and was mistakenly rushed to the nearest hospital - in St. Cloud, MN. I had just left St. Cloud. And I got this warm, fuzzy feeling of inclusion. Now I was a denizen of central Minnesota too! Who knows, maybe I was passing Lake Wobegon that very moment!

I continued to listen to the rest of the program, chuckling at the segment griping about "snow emergencies," a condition I am now familiar with, and the towing of vehicles failing to park off of the paths of the coming snow plows. I listened on as "Guy Noir" narrated his movements, down University Ave (a few blocks from my new apartment) toward downtown St. Paul. So much more context. Minnesota was already beginning to feel more like home...

The reason I was driving from St. Cloud, destined for St. Paul, is one on which I'll have to elaborate more.

The end of December and beginning of January for me was three full weeks of transportation, family Christmas gatherings and moving. In transit, my body moved a total of just over 2,600 miles - all on the road, either bus or car. Most of it was uncomfortable. I attended four family Christmases/gatherings. And I moved myself and about 200 lbs of my stuff from Pittsburgh to St. Paul, where I now reside.

On my second night in town - the same day I had secured an apartment, before I was even feeling settled - Brooke (my girlfriend and the reason I moved to St. Paul) got a call from her brother-in-law. Peter (said brother-in-law and a wonderful guy I had the pleasure of getting to know at their family gathering) works for an organization dedicated to helping out Chinese students - who have come to the Twin Cities to study - in every way possible: taking them shopping, making living arrangements for them, picking them up from the airport...

Peter was enlisting our help. He needed someone to pick up students from the airport and drive them to Saint Cloud State University and he knew I was strapped for cash. Brooke was busy, but I said I could do it. Peter and his wife (Brooke's sister) Ginger had already done so much for me (letting me borrow some essential furniture for my room, among other things) that I was willing to do about anything to help, though since the organization enlisting Peter's organization's help (is this getting confusing?) was offering money anyway, most likely this was just Peter trying to help me out some more. In any event, I said yes to... well I still wasn't quite exactly sure what. Peter is himself Chinese and though his English is excellent I'm still not convinced that we have 100% information transmission in our communications. But one of my life's philosophies (or so I try to make it) is say 'yes' first, ask questions later. I was told I would be emailed more information.

The email was a bit late in coming, but still on Friday morning - the day of the first chauffeuring - I received a forwarded list of places. Pick up students at airport, drive them to Richard's house, take them shopping for essentials at Target, drive them to St. Cloud, meet contact there, drive home. Okay. Sounds like fun... I did some Google-mapping, jotted down some directions in my little memo pad, crossed my fingers, and headed out to pick up the Chevy Astro that was to serve as my transport vehicle.

I suppose - technically speaking - that having done something for money, one becomes a 'professional,' if only for a particular job. That said, I have quite an interesting resume: professional forklift driver, professional finish carpenter, professional meat-grinder, professional wine-maker, professional cow-herder, professional millet-sower, professional deliveryman, envelope stuffer, quiz grader, roofer, vodka-bottler, musician, wilderness guide, ... And now I can add 'professional chauffeur' and 'picker-upper' to my list. I'm sure there is a better word for that latter term, but that was the wording a random dude in the airport chose to use as I was waiting for my students, sign in hand, Chinese transliterations of names printed on it.

"So, are you a professional picker-upper?" the all-too-friendly tall white guy standing next to me asked, thus beginning what became an extended conversation. He was waiting for his wife's (Korean-Chinese) family to arrive. While we stood together, now bound by the bizarre laws of random-stranger-conversationdom, he prattled on, interspersing interesting factoids about China with trying to teach me how to say, "you all come with me" in Mandarin (so as to impress my pick-up-ees). All the while, we were interrupted by frequent calls from his wife (also coming to join the welcoming party) and my newfound Chinese contacts Peter and Richard, asking about my progress.

Finally I got a[nother] call from Richard, telling me that not only were my students arrived through customs, but they were now waiting for one student's luggage at carousel 6. Apparently we had missed each other, despite my diligent holding of my sign. (I had always wanted to be one of those people - standing at the international arrivals gate, professionally displaying a name placard, patiently waiting... too bad I failed at my first real opportunity.) I found them, we waited still longer for the student's bags (Phew! - it was okay that I had missed them. No time lost.), and we finally hit the road, me very professionally loading their luggage and then ushering them into the back seat of the van.

On the way to Richard's house I debated whether to go all out in making these young students first interaction with American culture (on American soil) an exciting one - blasting some country music, honking the horn at every opportunity... but collective fatigue (mostly theirs) led me to keep the radio on some low-key alternative music. Very professional. I guess.

I could keep drawing out this story. The snowstorm, interactions with Richard (a very nice dude), conversation with students ("You like NBA?" "Uh, yes?" "Me too. I like Kobe Bryant. Who is your favorite? [Doh! Caught in a fib...] "Uh... I like... many of them."), snow, accidents, detours, 40 mph on the interstate on the way home... Suffice it to say I arrived home very late, barely wanting to repeat the process over again the next day. Fortunately, this second day was much much better. Less waiting, a delightful passenger (who spoke much better English, resulting in some actual conversation - interesting at that), a gift of good Chinese tea from Richard, sunny skies and clear highways, AND the joy of A Prairie Home Companion. All in all a good experience.

With that, I leave you with...

a picture of Brooke, the very talented ladyfriend/sled-jumper!