Staying in Like is the Hard Part

When people find out that I have been married for over twenty-five years, one question usually comes up: how do you stay in love with the same person for all that time? My answer is always the same: staying in love isn't the problem at all, it is the staying in like that is the killer. Understanding that you might not always like the person you are married to and realizing that you will always have to work at loving each other is the way to make marriage fulfilling and long lasting.

I have been in love with my husband since a particular day twenty-seven years ago when he sat across from me in Taco Bell and stumbled over his words trying to explain his feelings for me. I knew then and there that my heart belonged to him and it always would. I have never once doubted that love, not on the day he asked me to marry him, not on our wedding day, not five years, ten years, even twenty-five years later. What is more, I never doubted that love when we experienced the hard times, the times where we could barely look at each other.

Ask me have I always liked this man and I will tell you absolutely, undoubtedly and with utter conviction "NO." In fact, the very first time I remember not liking him was shortly after the lunch at Taco Bell. We got into some stupid fight about an ex-boyfriend and I thought he was acting like the biggest jerk possible. I wondered how in the world I could like a man that was acting like a twelve-year-old. I didn't, but I still loved him.

Understanding in a marriage that things will not always be smooth and that you might not always be blissfully happy with your mate is probably the most fundamental advice any person contemplating the big step could get. Loving each other is required, liking each all the time is not. To love each other the entire time, you have to fight for your relationship. You commit yourself totally to never forgetting, even in the bad times, the special feelings you hold for that other person. Remembering what caused you to fall in love and building on that love is the glue that cements it all together. The memories you make, both good and bad, are how you bond and blend two people into a single marriage. My husband alone knows the feeling in my heart the day I first held our children. He knows, like no other, the happiness I felt when I was accepted into school. And he shares the pain of the memory of the seven months we spent separated, unable to work out our stubborn differences as we contemplated throwing in the towel on our marriage. It is those shared feelings that bond our continual love.

So, while I might tell someone who asks me how I feel about my husband, that I am so mad at him I could spit, or that we aren't speaking because of a fight we are waging over the electric bill, I will quickly follow with the fact that I really do love the man. And I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't and couldn't have spent the last twenty-five years with him.

The Best Roommates Are No Roommates

I have come to the realization over the years that roommates serve no purpose other than to test your boundaries, patience and will to live. I have had the worst: the slovenly slobs, the neat freaks, queens, druggies, ghetto trash, dorks, overconfident idiots and CIA/NSA operatives. What all of these scum have in common is that they are impossible to negotiate with. Their job is to make your life a living hell. From demanding standards to having petty differences such as the “perfect” temperature setting they all thrive on your anguish and suffering.

First are the dorks. These I almost feel sorry for since everyone deep down has a dork inside themselves that they are hiding from the world. I don’t have sympathy for them because when they play video games especially Guitar Hero six hours a day you wonder what happened in their childhood that made them give up on themselves. These guys dance to Jay-Z being played and can’t play more than a handful of overly popular rock bands from the seventies. They worship Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Deep Purple because it is safe, lazy and requires no effort to branch out and find out what they truly like. These are sadly the future music journalists of tomorrow who hold no respect for challenging the status quo.

They also take pictures of themselves constantly and short of making a scrapbook that would cement their latent femininity they are always talking about their relationship problems or lack thereof. You should keep that stuff to yourself. Would Humphrey Bogart ever complain about a lack of game or inferior women? No, because he didn’t care about the present or future. With these people you have to keep a distance since you don’t want to become like them. You start adopting the habits of any person who you hang around with too much, so be weary. They might mean well but they don’t challenge themselves to be better people, plain and simple. They are the kings of mediocrity, and they are happy being that way.

The overconfident idiot is another type that will destroy your will to live. This is the guy who knows the back-story, answer and reasons to why anything is why it is. They are the kings of bullshit artists because they delude themselves into thinking they know everything about everything. You can’t have a conversation with one of these people without them trying to one-up you and prove they know more than you in any area of expertise. You like film? They know everything about film and such classics to them include Rush Hour, Happy Gilmore and Spaceballs. These are the people that watch Jeopardy and take notes.

I had one idiot always telling me B.S. stories about his days as an EMT. He always had close calls with dying people and unexciting tales that seemed to really interest him and no one else. These people are usually friendly and upbeat at first but quickly get on your nerves so bad that you just want to split their head open. Another trait of these people is that they act as if they have had over 1,000 conquests. They talk and talk of the women they have been with but you never see any around. Then when you yourself bring one to the room, if you share a room, they get jealous and still try to act superior to you. Pathetic. I have learned to deal with this type you ignore them plain and simple since they thrive on attention. Anything they say and do, act unimpressed. You really don’t have to pretend in most or all cases. These people have nothing to offer the world and deserve to be executed, mafia style.

No matter who you have you most likely lose. I have had a few good roommates but that was out of over 20. Sometimes you win most times you don’t. All in all the best roommates keep to themselves, are not obnoxious and can be your friends. As long as you know yourself and what you hate, you will know pretty quickly when to stay and when to leave. All roommates have something about them that will piss you off so the best roommates are no roommates.

Friendship is the Foundation

The best friend is likely to acquire the best wife, because a good marriage is based on the talent for friendship. - Friedrich Nietzsche

Through our lives we develop many different relationships with others, from friendship to romance. Some relations will only remain a friendship, while others grow to be much more. Some will become a romantic partner, but never a friend. Whatever the connection, this bond is strongest if based upon friendship.

A friend is someone you can rely on for anything, despite how inconvenient or complicated your needs may be. You would hope that your significant other would have the same qualities as your friends, but that is not always the case. I see it all the time—boyfriends and girlfriends treating their friends better than they treat each other. Why do people often treat others, even complete strangers, better than their partner? It all ties back to the foundation of their relationship.

Serious relationships I have experienced have all been different; all the guys were distinct in characteristics and values. I have seen the effects of dating a close friend and dating someone I knew only as a boyfriend. From both experiences, there was an immense difference not only in the relationship, but the aftermath. An exsisting friendship made one relationship genuine and fulfilling, while the other felt empty and fake.

My first boyfriend was a guy I had only met twice during middle school. Our relationship sprung on the factor of mutual attraction. We started dating after only one week; we barely knew one another. All that mattered to me was the basics: nice, funny, and cute. As our relationship progressed, I started to realize how empty most of our conversations were. Sure, we agreed on many things such as what the best Will Ferrell movie of all time is, but nothing deeper. Where was the connection? I thought over time we’d become closer. It turns out we only became each other’s company: someone to prevent boredom. My assumption was this is what relationships were—hanging out after school, holding hands, and writing “I love Chris” everyday on my right hand. Although I didn’t know any different, I did notice something was missing. Something important.

Daniel was one of my best friends from 9^th grade on. Every aspect of high school we experienced together. He was the type of friend I could trust with absolutely anything. I admired his kindness; he was always smiling and never selfish. Sophomore year of college, Daniel expressed his feelings for me, and right then I knew there was much more to our friendship. We were already close, yet we still took our time dating to see how things went—nobody wants to jeopardize a friendship. Soon after, we were officially “together.” The relationship was based on all the right things: honesty, caring, understanding, and most importantly friendship. This relationship was completely different than any other I had before. The fact that we had such a strong friendship made our relationship genuine. Of course you act differently when someone becomes your boyfriend; however the bond we had was indestructible. Our feelings were not only passionate but intimate. I didn’t just rely on him for taking me out to dinner, but for someone to listen and relate to. He wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was my best friend.

A year later we decided to break up after we began to drift apart, but there were no hard feelings. Some people might believe the “we could never be friends” notion would apply here, but it doesn’t. Our friendship is more important than any problem we had as boyfriend and girlfriend. Daniel and I took the time to let ourselves be distant; this way our future encounters wouldn’t be awkward. He is still one of my best friends, and that is a bond that will never break up.

Happiness

Happiness has no universal meaning. Everyone has a different definition. I know so few people who are truly happy, including myself, so I'm not sure I'd be qualified to give the keys to happiness. Don't get me wrong, I'm not miserable. I am happy. But for me there's always something missing, always something that could make my life better. I can't seem to figure out where complacency ends and contentment begins. For much of my life, when it came time to making sacrifices happiness was the first to go. I've always had the "win at all cost" mentality. But I had to ask myself, is a miserable success even a success at all. If you can't enjoy the victory and your journey there, what's it really worth. Despite my shortcomings in finding true happiness, I have been able to define a few factors that are going to be essential if I ever hope to get there.

I believe the journey to happiness begins with realizing that my life is finite and that every day counts for something. Every day has the potential for greatness. Why waste one day of your life doing what you "should" be doing. If you live your life with that mentality (doing what you should) than your script has already been written. X leads to Y leads to Z and you know how it ends. It seems all too common that people are so eager to give their lives limits, to define and align themselves with a predetermined destiny.

Step Two...Have the presence of mind to enjoy the seemingly meaningless. The Sundays huddled around a TV with your closest friends watching football, the smell of gasoline while you pump your gas, the sound of your mothers voice calling you for dinner, car wheels turning over gravel. All beautiful things. It pains me to think of all of the incredible moments I've missed in my life while I dwelled on the past or labored over the future. How many moments that passed as I waited for the next best thing?

Finally, pursue whatever it is that you feel will make you happy. If its money, so be it. If its promiscuous sex with women you had to pay for, right on. Happiness is happiness, it has no boundaries. There is no excuse for waking up everyday living a life that you don't want. Life is about more than just survival and subsistence. Merely surviving is not truly thriving. I don't want to survive life, I want to live it.

The Modern Day Serf

Many share the plight of the modern day serf. They pledge monthly dues to an institution that could care less about them. They work tirelessly to pay off their debt. The institution makes huge profits off their underlings while the poor serfs toil in squalor and poverty. The modern serf is the college graduate smothered by huge college loan payments.

Much like people were born into serfdom in the past, modern serfs get their start early. Students are conditioned from a young age that “successful” people go to college. With this mindset ingrained, students plan on attending college well before they actually go. The problem is that many Americans cannot afford college without substantial loans. These loans become a burden on college graduates who have to make loan payments rather than save money.

The problem is hardest on middle class families, those who can’t fully afford to send their children to college but make too much to qualify for federal aid. Therefore, it is the students’ responsibility to find a way to put themselves through school, which usually means taking out loans. College prices are astonishingly high, and according to CNN.com are increasing at a rate faster than inflation. The US Department of Education estimates that in 2001 the average price of attending college in America was roughly $10,000 a year. That means someone receiving no financial assistance would have to borrow at least $40,000 just to attend a university. Factor in other costs, such as books and meal plans, and its safe to say that a student can face upwards of $45,000 in loans before starting a career, and that was over six years ago.

These loans weigh heavily on graduates. A graduate with a degree in education, according to the Nation Educational Association, can expect to make about $27,500 a year in North Carolina. That equals a monthly income of about $2,300. On top of other expenses, graduates can expect to spend between $200 and $300 a month in loan payments. Paying back loans delays any significant savings that should take place in the first few years after graduating from college. This keeps house ownership out of the question. Conversely, students from wealthy families who don’t take out loans will be able to save money immediately.

This perpetuates the situation which led to serfdom in the first place. While the privileged keep prospering, the serfs toil. Serfs have little professional freedom, while the graduate that isn’t in debt has some financial freedom to explore occupational options. The graduate in debt is forced to stay in a position that guarantees a steady paycheck so their current debt doesn’t balloon astronomically.

In the past, being a serf was a social condition and was dependent on birth. Now serfdom is a lifestyle that many are forced into. The best jobs go to people with college degrees so, in an attempt to ascend to a higher level in the social structure, people take out loans to pay for school. Sadly, this financial burden becomes an extra obstacle in being financially secure and independent.

To work hard and get nowhere, such is the plight of the modern day serf.

One Night Stand Etiquette

Admit it. You've been there once or twice. Not quite knowing whether you should spend the night or leave with a curt kiss on the cheek and an "I'll call you". These are common questions that plague the lust-filled world of one night stands. One night stands, while often full of excitement and passion, often leave you awkward and unsure of proper etiquette. Here are a few ground rules that one should take into consideration before diving head-first into the tangled web of sheets, sweat, and one-time sex.

First and foremost, be prepared. No one wants to wake up regretful and covered in a rash. That would just prove to be debilitating for following one night stands. However, know that if your possible-partner is actually prepared, that they probably do this often. Regardless, as telling as it may be to carry a condom, tuck it in your wallet or bra and feel better knowing that anti-itch medicine will not be on next weeks grocery list.

Second, don't get too personal. Do you really need to know their favorite movie or even their last name for that matter? By keeping your distance, no one gets hurt. Such things as hand-holding, pet names, and conversation are faux paus in the world of one night stands. If necessary develop a pseudo name, such as "Ginger" or "Ken", to keep your anonymity for this purely physical act. Stay away from emotional topics, such as the popular, feeling-invoking question "Are you single?" . Irrelevant information in the realm of one night stands.

Third, never approach a one night stand potential that you will run into on a regular basis, such as a co-worker or classmate. Awkwardness will ultimately ensue, resulting in stiff sideways hugs and empty promises of getting together soon. If such a situation becomes unavoidable, pull the "I blacked out, what happened?" card immediately and be on your way with a heavy heart and a lesson learned.

The fourth rule is to never leave your number. One night stands are by definition, one night. Fulfill the obligatory cuddle rule by counting to fifteen, then clearing your throat, and getting up for a drink of water. Get out fast with tales of your dog at home or an early work meeting. If your partner is a well-rehearsed one night stander as well, your quick exit will be followed with a "Thanks for the fun" and a locked door. But if you are unable to escape that night, it's always great to have a back up plan for emergencies the next morning. A simply sigh of, "Our children will be so cute..." or a mention of how they remind you of your mother will send them running and leave you with a smile and a great story for the grand kids.

The fifth, and final rule to keep in mind is an often talked about phenomenon that occurs the morning after. The "Walk of Shame" is an inevitable consequence of the one night stand lifestyle. Ideally, you are able to make it out before daylight, free from the harsh stares and whispers of roommates. But one must plan accordingly in the instance that you wake up to the warm, mid-morning sunlight bathing your liquor soaked body. Keep your eyes on the sidewalk and if possible, engage yourself in an intense cellphone conversation as you make your way past the judging eyes of church goers and neighbors. Ladies have it a bit worse in regards to the walk of shame. Saturday night stilettos and glitter do not translate well on Sunday mornings. Plan ahead by wearing light colors and carrying eye make-up remover.

While the one night stand lifestyle can often become tiresome and overrated, keep things new and exciting by mixing it up with new locations and colorful prophylactics. By following the rules and knowing proper etiquette, you can help avoid a sticky situation and be able to hold your head up high for that long walk back to your car. Happy humping!

Ghosts and Colorblindness

In 2002, an invisible ghost took control of a 74-year-old woman’s hand. As she was examined in a Chinese hospital, the mischievous spirit would manipulate her entire left arm, causing it to levitate and thrash about without the woman’s consent. Disturbed and fearful, she explained to the doctors that a sudden feeling of weakness numbed her left side when the ghost first took possession of her hand, leaving her unable to perform tasks that required two cooperative hands, such as lighting matches or tying shoes. Also, the ghost changed her perception of colors. When placed in front of a plain grey wall, the woman’s eyes registered six colors that weren’t there. After taking a series of magnetic resonance images (MRIs), however, perplexed doctors in the Chinese hospital discovered that brain legions, not ghosts, were to blame for her rogue appendage. Soon afterward, the elderly woman was diagnosed with alien hand syndrome (AHS), a condition in which the patient’s limb has an uncontrollable will of its own.

Since alien hand syndrome was first identified in 1972 by Brion and Jedynak, huge strides have been made in classifying various modes of the rare motor-skill syndrome, and now psychiatrists divide the cases into four categories: intermanual conflict syndrome, alien hand sign, anarchic or way-ward hand syndrome, and supernumerary hands. In a case of intermanual conflict syndrome, a patient’s affected hand interferes with the actions of the normal hand, causing severe difficulties in performing daily routines. For example, a person may not be able to put on a shirt because the affected hand attempts to take off the shirt at the same time that the normal hand is attempting to put it on. Opening doors, eating, drinking, smoking, writing, and teeth-brushing are only a handful of activities in which intermanual conflict syndrome persuades its victims to engage in a bodily civil war. The next category of AHS is called alien hand sign, and it is characterized by the sensation that the left hand (in right-handed subjects) does not belong to the patient. For example, one 50-year-old woman said this about her left arm: “I felt it belonged to someone else and wanted to hurt me because it moved towards me; I saw it quite big and distorted like a monster; I was terrified.”

While alien hand sign and intermanual conflict syndrome are both strange conditions, anarchic hand syndrome and supernumerary hands are equally bizarre categories of AHS. Anarchic hand, sometimes called the way-ward hand, is diagnosed when the patient’s arm completes seemingly purposeful and sometimes violent actions at random intervals. In Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove, the post-Nazi scientist character, played by the late Peter Sellars, has an anarchic hand that attempts to strangle him and frequently explodes into proud Nazi salutes. In real-life, however, most actions of the anarchic hand are not subconscious slips of desire; rather, they are glitches in the brain that cause daily routines, such as unzipping a fly or waving goodbye, to occur at random times and locations. One sufferer of alien hand sign “would attempt to restrain the unwanted movements of the left hand by keeping her hands folded together or by gripping an object in the left hand.” The last and most strange category of AHS is called supernumerary hands, and it is characterized by the subjective sensation of having three or more hands. The extra hands are peculiar objects, since they don’t actually exist, but still itch, burn, and feel much like ordinary hands. Unlike anarchic hands, supernumerary hands usually don’t perform random uncontrollable acts.

A myriad of factors, virtually all of which involve lesions, determine which form of AHS a patient will experience; and they range from minor brain illnesses, such as migraines, to severe brain diseases, such as Creutzfeldt-Jakob’s. Certain diseases—chronic beryllium disease, acute cerebral vascular diseases, herpes viral encephalitis, Alzheimer’s, progressive supranuclear palsy, and epilepsies, among others—result in brain lesions, which are tissue abnormalities that cause AHS. The location of the legions on the brain’s lobes is what usually determines what variety of AHS the patient will experience. For example, legions in the frontal lobe (which controls motor skills) could cause anarchic hand or supernumerary hands, and legions in the posterior corpus callosum (which connects right and left hemispheres of the brain) could cause intermanual conflict or alien hand sign. Because the diseases that lead to AHS are clinically incurable, with the exception of migraines, AHS is incurable as well. However, some cases of alien hand sign have showed improvement with vestibular stimulation, which is a treatment that involves the patient spinning around in circles until inner-ear fluid has been distributed equally throughout the brain’s system of balance. Unfortunately, there are no known treatments for the other categories of AHS, except for invasive surgeries that attempt to cut off the troublesome legions from the brain itself. Needless to say most patients reject this option.

Even with all the knowledge scientists had collected on alien hand syndrome, the case of the 74-year-old woman in China remained puzzling because of her mysterious inability to properly discriminate between certain colors. Upon further examination of her MRIs, three neuroscientists—X. P. Wang, C. B. Fan, and J. N. Zhou—discovered only a small cluster of legions on her occipital lobe. The neuroscientists proposed that her color misperceptions were caused by the occipital legions, which is logical since the occipital lobe is the visual processing center of the brain. However, this theory has one problem: anarchic hand syndrome is caused by legions in the frontal corpus callosum, not the occipital lobe. Baffled, Wang and associates realized that they had stumbled upon a never-before-seen form of alien hand syndrome. In 2004, their findings were published in Neurology India in article titled, “Alien hand syndrome: Contradictive movement and disorder of color discrimination.” Since the publication of Wang’s article, no other cases of the rare colorblind strain of alien hand syndrome have been reported. However, as scientists make new breakthroughs in the field of neuroscience, fresh reports of cases similar to Wang’s will inevitably chase away all the ghosts of doubt that haunt his skeptics.

NOTE: See comments for bibliography.

Marriage essay = Badly written essay

“Marriage is a wonderful institution...but who wants to live in an institution?”
-Groucho Marx

Marriage is one of the oldest institutions known to man. If you believe in the Judeo-Christian bible, you can reference the fact that God sanctioned marriage after he created man and woman. For hundreds of years, the couple’s parents picked marriage partners for their children. So why is something that is such and immensely popular fact of life shown in such a negative light?

In the media, via the mouths of men, and from the occasional woman marriage is not lifted to be all that it is cracked up to be. Most young men cringe at the mere utterance of the word "marriage". You can hear some proclaim it at the top of their lungs. Musicians write songs about never getting married. Poets write long sonnets announcing their disgust with this beloved institution. So why do men keep following the traditions set forth by their ancestors?

In America, some of the blame can be placed on society. The forced opinion of marriage being the next inevitable step after dating is putting thoughts into the minds of young men and women everywhere. But more than the fact that society does seem to lean towards this institution, women seem to be even more motivated to get married. So is it because women will love to show off the diamond ring that their future husband will buy for them? Do women force-feed the picture-perfect wedding into their minds so much as they are watching Cinderella for the 9800th time as a child that they honestly lose the confides of what reality actually is? What exact part does this influence play in the mind making experience of finding ones mate?

As these women grow older and that lucky man that they meet comes to think that his life will just be better if he marries this woman that he thinks he loves. Even though this man doesn't truly know what love is, he buys a ring. With this ring he embarrassingly goes to her parents and mumbles through a spiel about how much he loves their daughter. The majority of the time, the parents agree to this union. The man pays bill after bill to fulfill his future wife’s fantasy. Hopefully this comes to fruition so his life can be happy.

But what happens when it doesn't? What happens when the storybook ending isn't working quite the way they wanted it? Well as stated earlier the divorce rate is at 50%. Marriage clinics are popping up all across America, in churches, and within communities. So why even risk it if there is even a possibility of ending up in that marriage that you always here about on TV?

How to Pick Up Chicks in a Club

~Foreword~

What you have magically stumbled upon is the ultimate guide to picking up chicks in a club. Shrouded by anonymity and sworn to secrecy, I am giving you the secrets that will have you picking up chicks in a club more easily than any man before you. You will be a force to be reckoned with. One read of this and you will be granted forbidden powers. By following these scenarios exactly, you will be granted an eternal spot in pick up Valhalla. This is the magic pill.

~Introduction~

My World of Warcraft friends and I have broken the club down into three strategic zones for picking up chicks which include the entrance area, the bar, and the dance floor. These are the best areas to pick up the hot chicks with our magic powers. Choose your battleground.

~The Entrance Area~

Make your way past the doorman and spot the cute cashier. She is probably dying of boredom and loneliness because not a single guy has approached her yet. Hit on her. She's practically asking for it. Tell her, I hope all the girls in the club are as pretty as you. When she asks for your cover charge, give her a big wink, maybe even an airkiss and ask, You're going to make ME pay? Repeat the words, c'mon, and continue winking. Then, bring out the big guns, the deadliest three questions a chick magnet like yourself asks chicks back to back to back. They practically melt. What's your name? Where ya from? What do you do for fun? After she hears these questions and knows that you are genuinely interested in her, it's time to get her number. Say in your meekest, nerdiest voice like in the movies, So, can I call ya sometime? Should be a done deal. Movies are just like real life. She definitely likes you. Give her a seductive one liner, maybe some Shakespeare. Kiss her on the hand and make your way to the dance floor. Score one for the home team.

~The Dance Floor~

Upon entering the club, take a look around. Stare even. Do not smile or look like you're having fun. Remember, you're too cool for this. Bad asses don't smile. Give the club your best I'm horny face. Make your way through the dance floor and give every girl your doggy eyes. Then, find a comfortable wall to stand against. As you stand against the wall, try your hardest to look cool. Look around and just wait for the chicks to flock to your aura of coolness. Stay on the wall. If tons of attractive women haven't asked you to dance, you probably didn't wear enough cologne. Nonetheless, it is time to make your move. Find a girl who is dancing with her girlfriends and sneak up from behind her. Chicks dig this. Proceed to grind "all up on that." She will swoon at your incredible and unique dance style. Clutch her hips tightly. This will convey all the right things like, I want you so bad it's creepy and I'm desperate. Chicks dig this, too. To quote Chris Farley in Billy Madison, I know from experience. Next, ask for her number in the same fashion as the cashier girl and make your way to the bar. Score Two.

~The Bar~

Make your way to the bar. In your most ostentatious voice say to the bartender, I'll have a glass of your most expensive champagne. After thoroughly impressing the entire bar with your "balla" status, creep up to the closest group of hot chicks. I now introduce another deadly piece in your arsenal, the hand on the lower back. Throw both your hands on the lower back's of the two chicks facing away from you and smugly ask, Can I buy you lovely ladies something to drink? They will be taken off of their feet by your gentlemanly ways. Guys never do this stuff. They will practically be ready for you to take them home with you right now but for logistic's sake, order a round of appletinis for them. To truly seal the deal, drop the chick pick up cluster bombs. What are your names? Where ya girls from? What do you all do for fun? Kaboooooom. They'll feel the rapport. Close in on the ugliest one and say, I feel a real connection with you, it's funny. Ya know, I don't find myself feeling these feelings for just anyone. Can I call ya sometime? She'll feel it too. Trust me. Score three.

~Closing~

What I have shown you is some extremely powerful stuff. Please use wisely. If you throw caution to the wind and abuse your new powers, you will have chicks following you home or begging you in the club to take them home with you. Use your powers wisely. Now, go my friend, pick up chicks.

*Disclaimer*

Satire warning, do not actually do this stuff. Intended for comedic purposes only.

My Heroes

According to Stephen Brookfield, the author of The Skillful Teacher, a book about teacher effectiveness, a teacher is simply a “helper of learning”. Therefore, the sole purpose of a teacher is to foster learning and care for the holistic growth of students. There a few people in a child’s life whose only job is to be concerned with their well-being and growth, other than their parents. This makes the job of teachers highly important and difficult. Even with the difficulties associated with teaching, it is still one of the largest and oldest professions in the world. However, today it is also one of the most controversial and under appreciated. Today, the issues surrounding teaching and education range from low teacher salaries to the teacher shortages. These issues are leading to problems with teacher stress and burnout.

In a projection in The Crisis in Education by Barry Farber, it was estimated that in 1992 the number of teachers that would be needed annually would be 215,000, but there would be only 137,000 graduates ready to teach annually. Farber feels that there has been an increase in teacher shortages because of the lack of respect attached to the profession. One would think that the profession that molds the minds of those that will go on to all other professions would be the most admired and revered, yet it only seems to warrant disrespect and low pay. Teachers should to be respected and admired for their courage, selflessness, and integrity in spite of controversy.

Courage is often a word that is tossed around about people who face their fears or failure once in their lifetime, but teachers face this everyday when they enter the classroom. A teacher must stand in front of a group of disinterested young students, who are all poised and ready to question and contradict everything the teacher says, everyday. Thomas Lickona, author of Educating for Character, says that “Courage enables us to take bold, positive action on the behalf of others.” This means that teachers must face opposition in order to better their students. Teachers must have the courage to pose the questions that will shake the foundations of their students’ beliefs and be prepared to take the back-lash of their disbelief.

Teachers must also have the courage to face failure, not only by themselves but by their students, which is the most painful failure for them of all. To see a student struggle on a test that they should have been more prepared for and then to have to give them the grade that will seal their disappointment is heart-wrenching for every concerned teacher. However, they come back everyday with the determination to make that student better prepared for the next exam.

Selflessness is not a virtue that is much sought after in today’s society, but great teachers have it in abundance. Teachers are smart and well-educated people that all probably could have chosen another profession and certainly one that would have been more financially rewarding, but they chose to work for less then they are worth. Teachers who are concerned about their students’ performance will give tutoring after school for no additional pay. Some teachers will also buy supplies for their classrooms with their own money and the only compensation they need is to see it enhancing their students’ education.

Integrity is one of the highest virtues, but one of the hardest to maintain. It is constantly tested and strained, especially for teachers. They are faced with many opportunities to take the easy, lazy, or more socially acceptable route, but they cannot because their lives are constantly on display for their students, even outside of the classroom. They are role models and heroes so they have to strive for integrity in all things or they will teach that it is unimportant in life. To teach integrity and honesty to their students they cannot allow any form of dishonesty or cheating in their classroom. In the book The Moral Dimensions of Teaching, by John Goodlad et al, it is said that “dishonesty and deceptiveness are despised among the powerless and the powerful alike.” The lesson of integrity is one of the most important in life and it is taught by example and the precedent that is set in the classroom.

Courage, selflessness, and integrity are not virtues that are generally embodied in a single person, but great teachers are a rare breed that possesses them all. They are heroes not only for their students, but for the parents of their students and the people of the community they work in. Teaching is an honorable and noble profession laced with difficulty and controversy. However, teachers should always be viewed as heroes.

Not Another Teen Movie

Everyone has seen the movies with the unattractive, unpopular, acne-ridden fat kid getting put into the garbage can in the hallway by the high school quarterback. Is it right? Depends on who you ask. What is playing out is social Darwinism in the high schools across America. Odds are, that football player is dating the captain of the cheerleading squad. Each one of those students described belongs to a group, their own niche within the school hierarchy. Sadly, it plays out in every different high school across the US everyday and it continues unabated.

The jocks. Often one of the most common and talked about groups, they are the ones who bring the heat on the lower forms of life (according to them) on campuses across the country. Usually preppy, attractive, muscular, and popular are just a few things to describe them. They pick on and ridicule the lower classmen, the nerdy, basically anyone not like them. They have their own ideas as far as how the pecking order in their school should work. Like the predators in the wild, they prey on the social misfits, bullying them around to do their work for them; if not, then they pay the consequences, which just end up in some silly adolescent spoof for the masses to view.

The misfits. The students who don’t fit into the mainstream crowds fit this category (Goths, geeks, poor and unstylish). They are often the objects of disdain for the students on the upper end of the social ladder. The only thing that makes them unworthy is social class, ideas, and taste in clothing. To the jocks, their girlfriends, and their minions, that is enough of a stigma to warrant the constant bullying, name-calling, and mistreatment that ensues whenever an encounter arises.

The mix. Then there is the rest of the student body that serves as a silent witness to the unraveling of social Darwinism on an adolescent scale. No matter how miniscule the smallest slight seems, it is enough to send some students over the edge. The cliques that form in high school can be a dangerous contributor to a student’s already lonesome and inferior feelings, no matter who or what is the cause. While the development of groups within the high school setting seems a natural part of growing up, they are fueling a dangerous phenomenon in America.

Overall, though, while the scenarios where a lonely, disturbed student takes out his frustrations on the student body, they are rare occurrences. The formation of cliques and the resultant bullying is character building and forces students to deal with the harsh reality that may face them upon graduation from high school. Instead of letting the dumb jocks and their bimbo girlfriends get to you, go to college, graduate, get a good job. Then remind them when they apply for a job with your company that you started, who you were in high school.

Don’t get mad, get even.

Flight is for the Birds

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Little did he know the events that would take place later on that warm July evening. At first he wondered if the LSD tabs he purchased from Mike were real or just real fake. Ben took his in the car on the way out to the freeway exit where they had spent so many nights drinking booze and consuming ungodly amounts of various pharmaceuticals. Cocaine and Marijuana were usually the chemicals of choice, but on that day they felt like trying something new. Neither had ever taken acid before but were reassured by everyone they questioned that it was definitely a good idea and something they would never forget. Whether or not it was going to become a fond memory was up to them.

Their friends had told them to make sure they were in a safe spot when the acid started to take effect. Standing forty feet off the ground on a billboard at midnight seemed like as safe a place as any. The first visual came fast and not much more than a few minutes after reaching the top of the ladder. Ben muttered something about being able to fly or at least safely glide to the ground. Joe disagreed but his mind was soon changed by the effects of the dangerous hallucinogen coursing through his body.

And then it happened. Ben jumped. He didn't as much jump or fall as he did just launch into a swan dive off of the Hooters billboard high off the ground. Watching Ben fall didn't register in Joe's mind as being the dangerous act that it was. After seeing Ben flail and scream all the way to the swamp below, he soon decided to give flight a try for himself. Being a little bit more sheepish than his crazy partner in crime. he opted to roll of the side instead of jump full on out into the night. The next few seconds were sure to be longest and most terrifying moments of his life.

When he described the fall later he was positive that he was in the air for no less than five minutes. The fall wasn't the scary part of the whole ordeal. It was the impact and the resulting bilateral forearm fractures that happened as a direct result. Both argued for a few minutes about whether or not his injuries were real or just another very powerful hallucination. After some heated discussion about the possible recourse of their actions if the police were to get involved, which was sure to happen upon their arrival at the hospital, they decided that trip to the emergency room was something that needed to happen.

They were met there by a few friends and the boys in blue, of course. Joe had only broken one arm while Ben had somehow survived the fall without injury. They were both administered Thorazine injections to reverse the effects of the LSD. After a thorough interrogation by the police and the sheriff they were found to only be guilty of trespassing. So, for the cost of a trespassing fine and one broken arm they had proved again that humans cannot fly and should stay on the ground with all other mammals.

Thanks, Drew

Sunday – 3:45pm – August ‘96

The Vault was a small coffee shop on the corner. Its large windows looked out onto the wide sidewalk and parking meters of Highland Avenue and provided a ledge, a stoop for the kids to sit on. And they did. They were lined up flavoring the hot summer air with the unmistakable scent of cloves. Skateboards cracked against the curb and the metal benches. A few Mohawks denoted a significant, possibly embarrassing amount of time spent in front of a mirror with a few cans of hairspray. Patches and safety pins held together clothes subjected to mostly intentional degradation.

It started at 4p.m., the weekly affair organized by Andrew Chadwick. He had somehow arranged for a steady flow of good, mostly Florida bands to play Sunday afternoon shows at The Vault. Everyone complained about the small-town. “There’s never anything to do,” they would say. “This place sucks.” Andrew gave them something to do – every Sunday. It was church for those who might otherwise be tempted to conjure up something sordid.

Boxcar Records was the name of Andrew’s creation, his child, his way out of the strip-mall culture. It was his cure for the small town homesick feeling for somewhere else, somewhere new. The kids had a limited number of choices, none of which were of their own design. Cars tended to gather in parking lots; no one knew what to do or where to go. Parties down old dirt roads – kegs and bb guns – the meeting of the mindless. You could take a walk around the mall, consuming your way into an afternoon of memories. There were organized sports complete with rules and discipline. There was Denny’s at four in the morning, the baggy-eyed chain smoking widow with crossword puzzles scattered across the table, the 70-year-old former prom king and his leopard skin date-for-hire.

Kids needed something to do - something that wasn't handed to them by a coach or a member of the congregation or a clever advertising agency. They needed something of their own.

Andrew’s answer was a little independent record label and production company. He sold records out of the back of his VW bus. For the price of a sandwich, one could get the latest 7-inch from a slew of great bands and watch them play the very next week. The epitome of DIY.

The shows at The Vault started and soon Andrew was handing out fliers with the monthly schedule: Sunday afternoons at The Vault, September – $2 – all ages – 1^st Sunday: The Usuals, with special guests Baccone Dolce – 2^nd Sunday: Discount, Skif Dank, The Rug Cutters, and so on. There was a small train-car logo – Boxcar Records it said.

A girl in a checkerboard skirt cuffed her hands over her eyes, peering through the window as the buzz of an amp shot through the front door and out onto the street. Her boyfriend sat with his back against the building taking the final bites from a sub wrapped in deli paper. The warm hum of an organ tempted the kids like the scent of a cartoon apple pie, lifting them off their feet to float towards the source. It was their cue. The crowd moved inside and pushed up towards the front. The band stood in front of them, no stage, but ready.

It was Sunday, 4p.m.

Who's to say what is wrong?

Dictionary.com has several definitions of “wrong,” but the number one definition is: Not in conformity with fact or truth; incorrect or erroneous. “Wrong” can be used to describe many different things, can be used as an adverb, a noun, and even a transitive verb. It is not how people use the word wrong that defines what it means; it is what people mean by it.

“Wrong” means different things in every aspect for diverse cultures everywhere. Also, “wrong” could mean certain things for families within one culture. When one family may see some things as the right way to do them; another might have different beliefs or morals that would lead them to think “wrong” means something completely different. When someone considers what is wrong with something, they must first decide what seems “right.” It is human nature to look at things as opposites, seeing things strictly as one way or another. This “black and white” world helps us determine what is right and wrong so we can easily apply it to our lifestyle. For example, when New York’s World Trade Centers went down, America saw the terrorists and what they did as wrong, however, in the eyes of the terrorists and their followers, it was very right. So, who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong? If I said it was wrong that President George Bush won the presidency, many people would disagree with me and say it was clearly the right decision. How can we ever determine what’s right and what’s wrong, to separate all actions and beliefs into two categories? The answer is we may never do this, we may never all unite under one way of thinking. The “black and white” way we see the world is simply a product of our environment. It is because we come from different cultures that we decide what is right or wrong. If we all thought the same things were wrong, than we not only would have to come from the same culture, but free will wouldn’t exist. There would be no free will to commit wrongness and no free will to decide what is the right way of life.

Something to consider, then, is if there will never be a complete wrong or a complete right, than perhaps everything is neutral. Perhaps there is no black and white, but only gray. It might be possible that people have been putting so much time and energy trying to figure out what’s wrong with their lives, what they do, and what’s wrong with the world, that it didn’t occur to them there might be nothing wrong at all. If wrongness isn’t “inconformity with fact or truth” and anything that is wrong is defined differently all over the world, than fact has no truth and truth can never be really proven.

We use "wrong to describe what each of use individually think is wrong. Whether someone has been taught otherwise or not, everyone has free will and that keeps what is right at bay for different incidences. What is moral? What is just? Whatever you answer, it's still wrong, for someone.

Wimington's Underground Genius

Violence, sex, drugs, gangs, money, ghetto. These are only some of the countless terms one would associate with the genre of Rap music and the basis of its appeal for it’s production. Videos and even lyrics have become exceedingly raunchy. Generally, the mainstream labels tolerate it as a part of the “game”; always about the flash, the “bling”. The mainstream Rap and R&B culture thrusts this motif into our eyes through television, radio, magazines, and national headlines involving shootouts and gang violence. They feel they are movin’ on up and throwing it in everyone’s faces. Many people do not like rap music mainly due to of the swearing or crass sexual references. No matter the listener’s age, background or beliefs it can border on unnecessary at times. However, as in any kind music, if you go beyond the hype into the soul of the music; the beats, the lyrics, what you will find there is very different from the typical rap artists and music that one watches in the mainstream.

DJ Noumenon, a successful New York City producer and DJ, and his fellow emcees feel they need to take their music to a new place. “If you really sit and absorb our sound, you don't get any images of us riding on 22's with a truck full of half naked girls rocking platinum chains and bulletproof vests. To be honest with you, we are against that. We are not trying to change anything; we are just trying to educate people on what this culture is really about,” explained Noumenon.

Luckily, the residents of Wilmington have a thriving “indie” rap community right here in town. We often see the term “indie” associated with movies or linked in the music scene with an alternative rock-n-roll or folk culture. However, “indie” is really any kind of artist or producer that is unaffiliated with a larger or more commercial organization.

Mussgroov Productions in association with Planet 6 records is a collective of producers, DJs, emcees and hip hop addicts originally based in Wilmington, NC. Bryan Musselwhite and Noumenon created this organization with hopes of reviving a dying and uneducated hip-hop scene in the Port City. “There was a lot of talent here,” explained Noumenon “but no real direction for it. There were producers and artists that had been unseen or overlooked for years and it was our goal to encourage them to get their music out.” DJ Nevada, resident of Wilmington and producer/DJ at Planet 6 and Mussgroov, believed that “our sound is completely different to the mainstream artists. The emcees and vocalists that we work with write about real experiences and feelings. They write about what moves them, what their dreams are, and where they are in life." They pursued a relationship with specific artists to help provide an outlet for them to hone their talents and gain experience, exposure and most importantly focus. After several years in Wilmington, there came an opportunity for a change. Mussgroov is now currently based in New York, North Carolina and Virginia.

Nicolay Here is one of the DJs on the label. Here is internationally recognized and respected for is beat work and assembly; he has a hand in many critically acclaimed albums that were released in the past 2 years. Originally hailing from the Netherlands, he had gotten in touch with Phonte Coleman of the successful underground hip-hop group, and local Durham favorite, “Little Brother.” Together they produced an album many are familiar with called the “Foreign Exchange.” Since coming to the United Stated he has had the opportunity to play in several Hip-Hop and R&B bands, opened up for legendary artists such as K-Ci & JoJo, Boyz II Men, MC Lyte and many others. He has write ups in Rolling Stone, and “The Foreign Exchange” quickly became a top album in “indie” circles.” Here also had the amazing honor of working with one of the most notable and talented producers, turning poetry into song, Jay Dilla. Most people think that DJing is playing good music in the right order, but it is more than that, Nicolay combines sounds and beats from everywhere.

Nicolay has since slowed the promotion of his album to back another incredibly talented artist on the label, Fuzz Jackson. Jackson is an incredibly talented rhymer and lyricist who has grown much in the past year. He opened for one of the most successful groups in hip-hop, “The Roots”. He originally played with the local band “Organix” with fellow label member, McClain Sullivan. “I do not dress like a thug; I do not act like a thug, because I am not a thug. I do not rap about being a thug in the ghetto, because I am not a thug in the ghetto”. His rhymes are soulful, quick, and creative. He touches on subjects ranging from politics, pop culture, and life experiences. His upcoming album was produced by Nicolay Here and another local production crew called “The Distinguished Gents.” “Nicolay Here is helping me promote my album, hopefully I can get the word out there and people will enjoy my music.”
McClain Sullivan has since moved to New York to pursue her career but she comes back occasionally to play shows with Fuzz. Sullivan is a vocalist, a tiny white girl with a strong, deep, emotional voice on the lines of Aretha Franklin or Mary J. Blige.

Other performers on the label include “Mind’s One”, a three person group of emcees; Tim Martell, a popular NYC DJ that spins in the most exclusive NYC nightclubs and lounges like "LimeLight." He has played with Jazzy Jeff, “Bone Thugz ~N-Harmony”, Slick Rick and various other artists; and The Distinguished Gents, local young producers of David Allen and Matt Newton; DJ Calico and Slim Deluxe too name a few.

“Our sound is unique and incomparable to any other” explained Noumenon, “We are by no means striving for ‘rap star’ status. Our production style, if you were too classify it, ranges from old school hip-hop, to soulful instrumentals, to gritty underground hip-hop.” When asked what influences the various sounds and music that influence them Nevada spoke up, “I have done a decent amount of traveling all over the world and I have been exposed to music that we in the States really aren’t exposed to. This is huge for a producer. It really pushes the boundaries in what is influencing his/her sound. There is so much other forms of music/expression in the world, why not listen to what they have to say.” “A lot of times you find some labels that have the same sound and they keep putting out the same sound and material” added Noumenon, “with us, we try multiple styles so that there is a little something for everyone. If it moves you, you gotta get it.”

Hopefully more people will look passed what they see on TV and in the radio and listen to the music that can really touch you. Take the beats of a meaningful Rap song and it can read like poetry. Rhyming with meaningful flow and sense is an art not many can master, and even more don’t understand. It can read like a powerfully political, loving, or angry poem with a tune to match. But hopefully, with artists like Noumenon, Martell, Nicolay, Fuzz and others, more people will have an opportunity to understand and enjoy it.

Misplaced crusading

Another year at Cooperstown has passed and for at least another year, Pete Rose will have to wait for his rightful place in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Major League Baseball’s all-time hits leader, a 17-time All-Star, 1963 NL Rookie of the Year and 1973 Most Valuable Player is on the outside looking in at the Hall.

The only way a player with such credentials could be kept of the hall is the fact that he was banned from baseball in 1989 following a gambling scandal. He recently admitted that he did indeed bet on baseball, but never against his own team.

If Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa even come close to sniffing the Hall of Fame, Rose should be walking through the hallowed halls a few steps ahead of them.

Where Rose may have broken the rules, he never compromised the integrity of the game unlike the new generation of baseball players which made a mockery of the game. Those players all have hall of fame numbers, but also are dealing with the stigma of performance enhancing drugs. Before the steroids issue was raised, it seemed as if Bonds was trying to knock a beach ball out of a playpen instead of baseball out of a ballpark.

Where Rose may have violated the rules, it’s a bit unfair to say that Rose put the integrity of the game in question. This is the same man who separated Ray Fosse’s shoulder in a home plate collision -- in the All-Star game. This Charlie Hustle, the man who popularized the head-first slide and rarely wasn’t covered in dirt. This is the same man who said he would “Walk through hell in a gasoline suit to play baseball.”

Admittedly, Rose may not have the cleanest record in the world. He admitted to betting on baseball and he did time federal prison due to tax evasion. He waited 15 years to make his gambling admission in his book, ‘My Prison Without Bars.’

Before snobby baseball purists go on rants on how character should be part of the Hall of Fame equation, they need to take a walk around Cooperstown and see what’s already there.
Ty Cobb, one of the best players of all-time, once assaulted a man in a wheelchair, slapped a black elevator operator because he was ‘uppity,’ a black construction worker and a black groundskeeper. He also choked the groundskeeper's wife when she protested.

Next, let’s meet Cap Anson. In 1883, Anson refused to play in a game because a black player was on the field. After being told he would forfeit the game and gate receipts, he played the game against his will. Later that year, Anson again showed up to find black players on the field. Befor the game began, he yelled out, ‘ get that nigger off the field!’ He is almost single-handedly credited for drawing the color line in baseball until Jackie Robinson broke though.

While we’re weeding out the bad seeds, Mickey Mantle has to go as well. He was an alcoholic and set a bad example for the kids. Babe Ruth? A womanizer who went outside his marriage plenty of times and overall glutton who gorged himself on alcohol and fried chicken.

Apparently, character has nothing to do with it at all. What this has the most to do with is the crusading sportswriters who are on a moral quest to ‘protect’ the game. These are the same sportswriters who seemed to miss all of the steroid use though they had daily access to Major League clubhouses.

This is the Baseball Hall of Fame, not the character hall of fame. It’s time to let in the man who played every game like he was about to lose his roster spot.