Number 1 Males

As the resident of a city like Baltimore, you get used to the idea of crime. By saying "get used to..." I, by no support those who feel they can proffer at the expense of others. This last statement includes white-collar perps as well.

There is a lot of crime in Baltimore. My neighborhood has recently been suffering a wave of crime perpetrated by a few brazen individuals who would dare attempt to break in to someone's house in broad daylight. What is common about these individuals is that they are African American. (Sigh) Being African American myself, it saddens me that my neighbors will invariably view us all as suspect. It happened tonight in fact. I was out in the alley behind my house with my dogs. One of my more paranoid neighbors happened to see me walking down the alley. I could tell that when I caught her glance that she presumed I was up to no good. Fortunately, she recognized me at the last minute before the police were called. Am I paranoid? Not at all. Take an African American friend to any of the pricey boutique stores in your town for a lesson in soft racism. Notice the helpful clerk who just happens to need to fold every item in your vicinity... Yeah...

The idea is floating around to hire a private security force for the neighborhood. I want to live in a safe neighborhood where I don't have to worry about knuckleheads trying to steal my stuff. What I don't want is to live in a fortress neighborhood where we don't trust anyone outside of our blocks. I feel that that is the root of the problem. I seem to live near a surplus of "scared white people" (not my words) who flinch every time someone new walks down our streets. What's the solution? I feel that the first step would be to partner with the other neighborhoods near us to join forces against the nuisance of crime that we ALL hate. There is safety in numbers; our neighborhood watch could work another watch to patrol our combined areas. Taking an interest in each other's safety will foster trust and break down biases against those different from us. We could all certainly use that lesson.

Poesia

This poem comes from a film producer in LA named Helen Kwang. I met her at Sundance this year. I'm using her work without her permission, but she was drunk when she wrote it on my arm in ink, so I don't think she'll remember. Besides, who reads this blog anyway?


"intrepid as a drunken sorority girl, Myron will ask you for your bra, then leave as you unsnap it."

This actually happened...

As usual, a bunch of us at work were ordering out for lunch. My cube-mate and I took the orders. Today we dined at 5 Guys. There are lots of Indians working here, so ordering from a burger joint requires some sensitivity. Most of them NEVER eat red meat, but there are a few who do. Because of this, I wasn't surprised when 2 of my Indian colleagues ordered cheeseburgers.

A colleague and I got the food and brought it back. After inspecting his order, one of the burger-ordering Indians was shocked, SHOCKED to find out the cheeseburgers have... GASP... RED MEAT!

You can't tell me there are Indians who've been within earshot of an American for more than 15 minutes who don't know that hamburgers are made of cow!

Why I love where I work.

#1. It's Beer Friday.
#2. I just saw some guys "driving" a pair of remote controlled Sumo wrestlers.

GO WES!

I just got back from my 15th year college reunion. I am a proud alumnus of Wesleyan University. As usual, it was great! I got to see friends I haven't seen since I was at the 10th year event and I got to party like I'd won the lottery! I stayed up all night (without meaning to), slept past my checkout time, and spent the next 48 hours feeling pretty hung-over. All in all, a success by my account!

Some might say that college reunions are a waste of time; the only reason you might want to go to such an event is to try to escape the reality that you've gotten old and unnecessarily responsible. Others might even say that it's just an exercise in vanity where you try to make yourself seem thin, successful, wealthy, etc. Be that as it may, I'll take any excuse to get to go back to my alma mater. For me, it's an exercise in reconnection to a place that is singularly formative in my life. I owe much of what I am today to that ivy-covered 163 acre campus. I loved, hated, cried, rejoiced, did wonderful things, failed, and generally lived a full (even if I think I majored in the wrong subjects) life. I sometimes feel that I lived my entire life in the four years I was there. This does not mean that my life ended when I graduated, but that everything that has come after has in some way resembled events that occurred back at Wesleyan. There are obvious exceptions: childbirth and marriage immediately come to mind.

Just to enforce the poignancy of reunion for me, I had a conversation with a woman who would graduate on the following day. She was sitting on Andrus field in one of the chairs the many grads would sit in during commencement. She was very upset that she'd missed out on experiencing everything Wesleyan had to offer. She was feeling friendless and without direction. I assured her that what she was feeling was absolutely natural and that I (and probably many, many others of her peers) felt exactly the same way before graduation. I suggested that she rely on those she felt close to and to not look at the act of graduation as "the end" of her time at Wesleyan. I don't know if any of what I said had any affect on her, but she was laughing when we parted ways.

Did someone say HOT-LANTA?!

Just got back from spending a long weekend in Atlanta at Brooke and Jen's house (my brother-in-law and soon-to-be sister-in-law). Brooke and Jen have a lovely house in Inman Park, near the uber-trendy Virginia Highlands. The reason for our visit was Brooke's graduation from his UGA MBA program. As you can see from the pic, Brooke was happy.



Brooke and Jen were gracious hosts, allowing the kids to slowly and in a moist fashion, dismantle their house.

Despite all the fun, it was hot, hot, hot! Neither I nor H (who delivers in just 3 mos!) were ready for 90+ degree weather! It makes you appreciate the relative "north-ness" of Baltimore.

The unbearable lightness of being.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by the madness at Virginia Tech. We can only look to the unknowable for solace and understanding. Unfortunately, it may not be enough to fully comprehend why what happened, happened at all. Of course, there will be the understandable cries to limit gun ownership, etc. While I personally think that America is gun-crazy and statistics show that gun ownership makes you more likely to be a target of gun violence, further limiting or banning ownership won't be the answer.

I'm sure there are those at Virginia Tech right now wondering what they could've done to reach out to Cho Seung-Hui. Perhaps, if the professors who had been "disturbed" by his writings had made more of an effort to get him help... What if those who knew him had tried to make him feel more included... This is just speculation, of course. What I take from this tragedy is that we humans still have a long way to go before we become better at understanding each other.