banamine-blog

[banamine-blog]

Invention

Expressions are funny.  Obviously.  Demetri Martin has proved as much.  I wonder about the phrase “Reinvent the wheel”.  FIrstly, I formally object to the term “reinvent”.  I believe that this word is nonsensical.  You cannot invent something again.  Once it is invented, it has been invented.  Same with rediscover.  You just can’t do that twice.  These subtle inaccuracies are important to those of us that choose to focus on irrelevant things.  I guess decide if this applies to you.  Also, I question the convention of using the wheel in this phrase.  Why is the wheel considered mankind’s best invention?  Clearly it was important, but clearly not the most important.  

Just a quick though, how about snacks?  They are a universally beloved invention.  Do you realize what people did before snacks were invented?  They would sit around between meals waiting for the next meal.  Lots of them apparently would sit at their dining table, usually the unemployed or people dishonestly taking a sick day, as research suggests that this is the demographic most affected by the invention of snacks, anyway they would sit at the table, usually waring an adult bib with a slogan like “where’s the beef?” or “my other bib is my bare chest”, with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, held vertically and resting on the table, watching the clock until it was time to eat again.  They did not want to miss it, for if they did, they would have to wait until the next one, because there was no such thing as snacks.

While some people took it upon themselves to take all the measures necessary to ensure they never missed a meal, others would get caught up in their work and forget to eat or pack only a small lunch for work or forget their lunch altogether.  They would sit at their desk, stomach rumbling, palms sweating, trying to steady their jittery body until it was time to eat again.  Inevitably a coworker would happen by, witness their current predicament, and slap them clear across the cheek.  “Get a hold of yourself, man!  You know we don’t have snacks!  Just focus on your work and get home safely before it’s time for dinner.  You’ll eat again soon.  I promise.”  People talk about withdrawal these days but few knew what it’s like to suffer withdrawal from basic nutrition.  People would think, “Man, I only ate a salad for lunch an hour ago and I’m hungry again.  But it won’t be time for dinner for hours.  I wish there as something I could do.”  Unfortunately, there was nothing anyone could do.  

Can you imagine when snacks were invented?  What a life-changing event for everyone alive at that particular time period (per various sources, around 400 B.C.).  People could eat when they wanted.  They could eat what they wanted.  No longer was life lived in the meticulously managed time periods in between meals.  This was a renaissance.  Then came vending machines, which to this day remain a revolutionary concept, as well as mixed nuts, blow pops, and soda cans.  We really gained our freedom when we invented snacks.  We could make drives longer than 4 hours without fear that we would go hungry.  We could filibuster.  We could sleep in.  We could watch long foreign films in their entirety.  

I really don’t know of any modern day invention that even comes close.  People bring up the smart phone, but really nothing you receive through text message or by pedometer is actually relevant.  Someone once said that if smart phones had been invented earlier, 95% of the plot lines in Seinfeld would not have occurred.  I think it’s true, and it’s a little sad too.  In a similar occurrence from my own life, I remember one time I went over Joe Macci’s house for his birthday party.  I didn’t like him that much, he was generally a grump and not fun to be around, but when you’re a kid and a classmate invites you over for a party, at the very least you’re looking at cake, activities, and a looty bag.  I remember I went to Joey Bartozzi’s birthday party once and there were no looty bags!  I think it was a sign that we were growing up.  But at the time it just seemed ludicrous.  I remember we had cake, played touch football outside, and ended the day watching a movie.  Then, one by one our parents showed up to pick us up.  The first kid to go didn’t receive any party favors, I know because we were all watching to see what they would be.  That’s when we got worried, but I thought, “Maybe that kid had to leave early and they hadn’t gotten the looty bags ready yet.”  But then other kids were picked up and also received nothing.  I was one of the last to leave, and because I was one of Joey’s closer friends I thought that maybe they were only giving the bags to his close friends.  I got up, said goodbye and thank you, wished Joey a happy birthday one last time, and ran to the car trying to hide my tears.  It was awful.  

Later that year, Kiran, my best friend, had a party at Milford Amusement.  We played arcade games, ate cake and fries.  Again, no looty bags!  Kiran and his mom did address this growing controversy, at the very least.  They said that we received extra tokens in place of looty bags.   Af course there was absolutely no way to verify this proclamation.  Kiran said something like, “It’s better than a goody bag, you get to play more games instead of going home with stupid toys you won’t even use.  Would you rather get a pencil in a little bag?”  Yes, I want the fucking pencil!  Geez, these people were crazy.  And so self-righteous.  

 Anyway, I went to Joe Macci’s party and I skipped a little league game to go, I remember that was a dilemma a bunch of us discussed earlier that week, but I decided to go to the party.  My mom dropped me off and I walked up the walkway to his house, dressed in my party shirt and holding a neatly wrapped gift.  I didn’t see anyone else getting dropped off, but whatever, maybe they were all running late.  I rang the doorbell and no one answered.  I thought this was weird, because Joe’s mom worked at our school and she always wore pantsuits and looked professional, so I assumed she would be running a tight ship at home and enforcing prompt doorbell door answer.  Joe finally opened the door himself, dressed in a matching maroon sweat suit.   This was my first clue that something was askew, as it seemed like a strange birthday outfit.  I wished him happy birthday and he looked at me odd.  We both stood there for a second, me, wondering why he wasn’t inviting me in to the party, and Joe, just staring at me for some reason.  He told me to hang on and went inside for a minute and I continued to stand there in my party outfit, starting to get worried.  Then he came back and said that his party was cancelled, I guess he had gone in to double check with his mom, as if he wasn’t sure now that I had shown up.  I asked him why he hadn’t told me earlier, and he said that he thought I told him on the phone that I couldn’t come.  I said no, I told him that I could come.  We stood there for another few seconds, then I turned around and went back to the car.  No, I didn’t give him the present anyway.  My mom asked if I wanted her to drop me off at the baseball game after all.  “I can’t go in my party shirt,” I told her.  We went straight home.

[banamine-blog]

Many of you have asked, so here’s what’s going on with me.

WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE

8/1979: Born. Grew up in CT, built a killer eraser collection, fell in love with computers.

Left college to start a company. Fell hard. Fled to India for 3 months.

Started 2nd company. Learned to be an adult. Fell in love with NYC.

Moved to SF, discovered burritos & some of my fave people on Earth.

9/2011: Got diagnosed with Leukemia!

Cried. Went through 3 cycles of chemo. Hurt. Thought hard about what I want out of life. Grew up a second time.

TODAY

… After over 100 drives organized by friends, family, and strangers, celebrity call-outs, a bazillion reblogs (7000+!), tweets, and Facebook posts, press, fundraising and international drives organized by tireless friends, and a couple painful false starts, I’ve got a 10/10 matched donor!

You all literally helped save my life. (And the lives of many others.)

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

Tomorrow, I’ll be admitted to Dana Farber in Boston for 4-5 weeks.

First I’ll get a second Hickman line to allow direct access to my heart (for meds and for nutrients if I’m not able to eat). Over the next week, the docs blast my body with a stiff chemo cocktail to try and eradicate all traces of cancer cells. In the process, the immune system I was born with, and my body’s ability to make blood, are destroyed.

Next Friday, I get my donor’s stem cells by IV. I start on immunosuppressants to prevent my body from rejecting them (I’ll be on them for 12-18 months). For these weeks I’ve no immune system, so I’m severely vulnerable to viruses and bacteria. My hospital room and hallway become my world.

Meanwhile, the stem cells make their way to my bone marrow and, with some luck, start producing platelets, red blood cells, and white blood cells. At this point, my blood type changes to the blood type of my donor. And my blood will now have my donor’s DNA, not my own.

This is science fiction stuff. I can hardly believe it’s even possible, and there’s lots of chances for things to go wrong. It’s frightening.

AFTER THE TRANSPLANT

Recovery to a new state of “normal” takes about a year, but there’s a few storm clouds hovering:

My immune system is new, like a baby’s. I’m prone to getting sick.

Just as with any organ transplant, there’s a chance of rejection. Except in this case, it’s my blood that’s the foreign body, and it touches every organ. They call it graft-vs-host-disease and it can cause health issues and organ complications for the rest of my life.

Successful transplant or not, Leukemia can relapse. Stubborn mofo.

Overall, 75% of AML transplant patients survive year one, 50% make it through year five. My odds are a little better since I’m young.

THE GREAT NEWS

I’ve got a long road ahead. But I’ve got a donor & amazing family & friends. A few months ago I didn’t have many options. Today I have a plan.

I am alive. I start tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Thank you.

[banamine-blog]

a white tiger mauled and killed a zookeeper at a New Zealand wildlife park today.  inevitably, he was euthanized.  the park, which contains many endangered lions and tigers, said that it would provide counseling to its employees.  The Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry reported last year that the animals at the park were kept in small, crowded, unsanitary enclosures, conditions so poor that officials considered having forty cats put down.  i think this is why zoos are no good.  wild animals belong in the wild.  they don't belong in zoos or carnivals or in people's houses being forced to wear diapers.  when animals are kept in zoos, zookeepers inevitably get too comfortable and put themselves in danger and get mauled and the animals lose their lives as a result.  also, as in this zoo, most of the time the facilities are inadequate and the animals live in squalid enclosures with improper diets and little bratty kids gawking and pointing and screaming at them all day.  it's no life for an animal.  captive breeding is one thing but zoos, i think, are obsolete.  i don't know what good comes of zoos, the only thing i can think of is the educational experience that visiting a zoo represents, perhaps inspiring efforts in wildlife and ecological conservation and potentially leading to careers in such fields.  but i think, especially today, these purposes can be realized through the internet, t.v., and other sources of media.  an african lion sleeping comfortably under a tree in the serengeti doesn't want to be relocated to detroit any more than we do.  i say let's leave the wild animals alone.  if we want to see them, we can buy expensive safari trips to take us by helicopter and jeep to their native habitats.  we can see them online and we can see them on the discovery channel and animal planet.  for every diapered chimapanzee i see on t.v. mauling some women and being gunned down on the street, i cry a little.  you should too.

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i have this one biochemistry teacher, Dr. Pehrson.  Great guy.  Great teacher, too, he won the vet school teaching award last year.  He has Nobel Prize envy, though, it's kind of sad.  We all feel bad for him.  He likes to keep his students informed of recent advances in science and research.  He also tells us about Nobel Prize winners and why they won and for some reason half of them started out in Dr. Pehrson's lab before deciding to leave and join a different lab and subsequently winning the Nobel Prize.  These stories are interesting but ultimately sad and awkward.  Afterwards, all the students wish there was some way we could get Dr. Pehrson a Nobel Prize.  I looked into it and to nominate someone for the Nobel Prize in Chemistry you have to receive an official invitation form from the Nobel Committee.  People who usually receive this confidential form include members of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, Nobel Laureates in Chemistry, permanent and assistant professors of chemistry at the universities and institutes of technology of Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Iceland and Norway, and Karolinska Institutet, Stockholm, and holders of corresponding chairs in at least six universities or university colleges selected by the Academy of Sciences.  So if any of the Nobel Laureates reading this blog are looking for an intelligent, friendly, charming man with a sharp wardrobe and thick glasses to nominate for this year's prize, I propose to you Dr. Pehrson.  Let's give him an autobiographical story to share with his students.

[banamine-blog]

a bunch of undergraduates next door are having a party.  since i can't concentrate on studying, i thought it would be fun to keep a log of what i'm hearing.

11:13PM I hear loud talking but no one is saying anything interesting.  Sounds like vet school lectures.

11:15PM A loud cheer just erupted from the house.  I'm guessing a girl took her shirt off.

11:16PM Someone just screamed, "Go home!  Go home!"  Fight!  Fight! Fight!

11:16PM A couple seconds of silence are followed by everyone singing happy birthday.  I think people got so drunk that they thought they were at a birthday party.

11:19PM Things got really quiet, and then I started to smell burning.  A bonfire, undoubtedly.  Kids are dumb.

11:20PM Everyone has come together to sing along in unison to a Backstreet Boys song.  I guess it could be worse.  The actual Backstreet Boys could be at the party singing.

11:24PM I just heard a few people scream "Do it!  Do it!"  Without knowing exactly what's going on, I think it's a safe assumption that either someone is about to eat some kind of bug or we've entered the orgy portion of the gathering.

11:27PM I hear the approaching sirens of a police car, followed by the music being turned off.  Perhaps it will be an early night.

11:42PM The music is back on.  Nuts.

11:47PM Everybody is cheering and laughing and clapping.  You have to hand it to young, drunk people.  Even amidst today's turmoil, they sure know how to put on a brave face and have fun by screaming life buffoons.  So they have that going for them, which is nice.

12:13AM Didn't think I'd remember to switch to AM, huh?  Things have seemed to mellow, save for a few kids screaming gibberish to each other.

12:15AM  A few kids of gone outside to talk.  These kids are the cool kids, separating themselves from the partying idiots to enjoy some quiet time.  For the first few hours of a party, it's cool to be at the party, get drunk, dance, and be loud.  But at a certain point, the party stops being cool.  The cool kids can sense exactly when a party stops being cool and effectively distance themselves from their lesser counterparts by either excusing themselves to go upstairs and have sex or alternatively going outside to smoke or enjoy the cool breeze of nightfall.  The slightly less cool kids stay an hour too long and the kids that are not cool at all are the ones that usually get arrested when the cops come back.  At least that's my take on parties.

12:25AM  I think the party is dying down.  No one has screamed anything stupid in a few minutes.

10:09AM Things are nice and quiet.  I bet the house is filled with a lot of people hung over, a few kids waking up next to the toilet, perhaps someone slept in the bathtub, a few people waking up in bed together wondering if they did it, and some guy waking up in the frontyard with raccoon feces all over him.  A party well done.  See you guys next Friday.

[banamine-blog]

i think more and more there's kind of a trend these days to annoint something or someone the best ever.  maybe it started with the comic book guy on the simpsons proclaiming everything worst ___ ever.  but maybe, and i think more likely, we're all just a little full of ourselves.  i notice this especially in sports, where tiger is the best golfer ever, federer is the best tennis player ever, and kobe is better then mj.  really?  i think tiger probably is the best ever, but no one else is.  no movie or book that came out recently was the best ever.  this is not the best era ever.  that honor, of course, goes to the stone age, where they invented all kinds of brilliant things, from the club to the bear-skin coverall to fire to the sexy, scruffy look to all those cars that you had to pedal with your feet like the one fred flinstone drove.  what exactly have we invented recently?  easier-to-use jar openers.  slightly more efficient gardening tools.  t-shirts with sayings that are funny the first time you wear them.  are we so misguided as to think that everything going on now is better than anything that went on in the past and anything that will go on in the future?  we must be idiots.  i think this current time period will be remembered for everybody becoming extremely fat and losing their money and freaking out followed by electing our first black president followed by everybody calling themselves noble and courageous for electing a black man president and that's about it.  there's a new bond now, harry potter is older and awkwardly hormonal but still comes around every summer, batman is cool again, vin diesel still makes fast and furious movies, and eddie murphy is somehow still getting work.  i think times now are unremarkable and we should all accept it.  great things have happened in the past and will happen again in the future but not right now.  sit back and relax, people, seek comfort in mediocrity.  yes, every group needs a leader, but that leader needs a bunch of submissive sheep to appreciate him and tell him he's great.  our era just happens to be a sheep.  so what.  i don't see any einsteins when i walk down the street.  we just got dealt a nothing hand.  let's just fold.  it's better than bluffing our way to the final hand and then looking like idiots when we have a pair of two.

[banamine-blog]

remember in the shawshank redemption when brooks left and then killed himself because he didn't know what to do with himself in the real world after so long in prison?  morgan freeman said something like, 'he's just institutionalized, that's all.'  and that's how morgan freeman paved his career as a narrator.  people thought that movie was good because morgan freeman narrated it.  whether that was true or not (it was not), freeman, from that point on, was hired for any movie requiring narration.  but i fear for myself.  and my classmates.  after twelve years of grade school and four years of college and four years of graduate school, what's going to happen when we graduate?  will half of us take bagging jobs at the local grocery store, be rebuked for forgetting to double bag, carve our names in our apartments, and hang ourselves?  it's something i worry about.  what's it going to be like not having to wake up early or stay up late?  it seems like it would be great.  but all those poor souls at shawshank thought it would be great.  and you know where they are?  dead.

[banamine-blog]

candy

one thing that never gets old is candy.  i like candy as much today as i did when i was three.  i remember telling my friends at the time that if i ever stopped liking candy, they had my approval to murder me.  they took down my information, stored it safely in their respective wallets, and we went our separate ways, hoping to never have to meet again, for that would spell my death.  by them.  so shortly thereafter, i began my quest to find a new group of friends, a goal which, at time of publishing, remains unfulfilled.  what amazes me about candy is that they come up with new candy ideas pretty much every week, churning out different shapes, consistencies, flavors combinations, and rarely producing an unsatisfactory product.  while we struggle to generate new classes of anthelmintics and antibiotics, while cancer research remains stagnant, while soda innovation is underwhelming and often disgusting, the geniuses of our country apparently all work in candy development.  candy rose to prominence in 1995, when a nationwide poll captured not only our interest but our hearts.  we chose blue, the new M&M color, replacing tan, which Mars Inc. decided was boring and racist.  tan had replaced violet in 1949, when Mars Inc. determined that violet propagated homophobia and was "not the message we want to send to our customers and teach our children.  American schoolboys should not have to absorb the verbal and physical abuse and accusations that accompany eating the violet M&Ms."  America was involved in the creation of a new product, M&Ms with blue, and the love affair began.  since then, regrettably, candy creation has taken a back seat to more sensational subjects, such as war, combat, militia movements, warfare, terrorism, military activity, and epic war movies.  but Americans have been lucky enough to enjoy the new candy coming our way behind the scenes, revelations such as pull-and-peel twizzlers, gummy life savers, peanut butter twix, and swedish fish aqualife.  sometimes i think that candy is delicious and thus it would be difficult to screw up such a good thing.  but then i think of soda and the numerous missteps in new soda concoctions.  terrible, all of them.  the only thing the egg heads designing soda have come up with recently is mixing cherry and vanilla.  great job, guys.  inspired.  just today i saw a commercial for crazy core skittles.  i have no idea what that means.  but it's very exciting and, more than likely, a great new candy invention.  keep up the good work, guys.  even it today's tough economic climate, we, as Americans, are proud to fork over what little money we have for your delicious new candy.  a grateful nation salutes you.

[banamine-blog]

human medicine vs. veterinary medicine

in veterinary medicine, you have two relationships that you must forge in the examination room; one with the animal, and one with the owner.  in human medicine, there are also two relationships to keep in mind; one with the patient, and one with his insurance carrier.  in veterinary school, you study the importance of biosecurity and the public health concerns of emerging infectious diseases.  in medical school, apparently they do not, because most physicians don't know what zoonosis means.  there have been many cases in which veterinarians trying to treat large, unwieldy, aggressive mammals have lost their lives in the line of duty.  to date, a doctor has not so much as contracted the sniffles from a patient.  one guy thought he got sick from a patient once, took the rest of the week off, laid in bed the whole time.  eventually it came out that he faked the whole thing and just wanted a week of vacation.  then they told him that he was a doctor and could take vacation whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted and he was never heard from again.  lots of kids dream of becoming veterinarians when they grow up.  or athletes.  or astronauts, or actors, or firemen, or pilots.  that is all.  a vet student training in the field is at risk for afflictions such as cryptosporidiosis, salmonellosis, and echinococcosis.  a med student in training is at risk for vicious paper cuts, including the kind that start to bleed.  in veterinary medicine, different breeds of dogs are differentially predisposed to various ailments, both genetically and behaviorally.  in human medicine, a fat guy is more prone to heart disease, whereas a thin guy can buy an oversized pair of pants and sell submarine sandwiches on t.v.  humans keeping other humans in their custody against their will is called kidnapping.  humans keeping animals in their custody against their will is called cat ownership.  physicians who specialize learn more and more about less and less, so that they eventually know everything about nothing.  veterinarians who generalize learn less and less about more and more, so that they eventually know nothing about everything.  human doctors drive mercedes and think they are the shit.  vets drive station wagons with their dogs in the back seat and think they smell shit.  animals are furry, friendly, happy, energetic, sweet, and silly.  people are mean and old.  physicians think they're brilliant and are convinced that they could do the work of veterinarians with little problem.  veterinarians would like to see them try.

[banamine-blog]

troup school

in third grade our school formed a relationship with an inner city school in New Haven named Troup School.  i don't really know what brought this about or why, but i think it was so that we would learn how to interact with African-American children. this experience was advertised to us as an opportunity to make friends and colleagues for life, people with whom to share our experiences in elementary school.  when the students from Troup School arrived, we assembled into our assigned groups and sat uncomfortably at our tables, awaiting further instruction.  it was very awkward that first day, as anytime kids meet other kids they are invariably shy and uneasy.  we basically just sat together, wishing the teachers would intervene or that it would be time for them to go.  for some reason the teachers expected us to jump into discussion as if we were close friends with strong conversational skills.  perhaps a spirited discussion on the subject of civil rights.  maybe a heated debate on the pros and cons of affirmative action.  but we were kids.   we looked down, we looked up, we looked at the clock, we looked at each other, we looked at the teacher.  it was rather uncomforable and we didn't know why the teachers weren't doing anything.  eventually, seeing their best laid plans sputtering, the teachers finally handed out worksheets for us all to complete in our groups.  the time passed.  for our second meeting, we went to visit troup school.  the day before going, we all practiced for the trip.  one person would ask, "Where are weeeee?",  and the next kid would answer, "Troup School, sir!" and salute.  i think it was pretty funny for something a bunch of 8 year-olds came up with.  so we made our trip and took a tour of their school and did some random arts and crafts stuff in our groups and then came home.  we had a few more such meetings and then for some reason this Troup School fad waned and we never heard anything about it again.  perhaps the teachers thought we had successfully learned how to interact with a race other than our own and that was that.  perhaps the folks at Troup School had had enough of our rich snobbery.  whatever the reason, it was a short-lived but long-remembered experience.  for years afterward, we would randomly come up to one another in class and demand "Where are weeeee?"

[banamine-blog]

•again today, driving on the highway i saw an ambulance with its lights flashing.  i don't really know how to react to this.  i don't remember being taught a highway ambulance protocol.  i could slow down or pull over but if the car behind me doesn't follow suit, it could get ugly.  another problem is that ambulances on the highway drive slowly, like around 50.  it makes sense, as they probably don't want the patient to flop around too much back there.  i think maybe instead of showing us all those after-school specials on drunk driving in driving school, they could've taught us more practical things, like what to do when there's a slow-moving ambulance on the highway, how to get back at someone who cut you off, how long to wait after passing a hidden police car before speeding up, whether it's okay to pass a police car on the highway, whether it's better to drive drunk or to let your twelve year-old drowsy son drive home.  one thing i think we all dutifully learned in driving school was that if you drive a porsche and drive drunk, you will always be involved in a horrific accident, whereas if you drive a mazda miata, obey the speed limit, and always wear a freshly ironed shirt, you will never get into an accident ever.  also in driving school there would be those multiple choice quizzes that we had to read aloud and answer in front of everyone, and you always got to the one guy who couldn't really read and everybody laughed at him and it annoyed you so much that you wanted to stick up for him and tell them to shut up, but you could read fine and didn't want to be associated with the kid who couldn't, so you didn't say anything.

•another thing i like is when people use the phrase 'you do the math' when it doesn't apply.  like a pittsburgh steeler fan will come up to you and say something like, "the steelers are the greatest, they've now won five super bowls, that's more than anyone else, you do the math."  what math?  there's no math to do, unless you're asking me to crunch the numbers to confirm that five is still greater than four and that five equals five, which, in fact, it does.

•i don't think the steel dividers between the urinals in public bathrooms really do much.  i think they either need to go from the ceiling to the ground or else not be there at all.  you know what the two feet tall steel dividers are saying?  they're saying, "we want to give you the impression that we care about your bathroom concerns but we're too cheap to offer the privacy that you require.  also, don't pee on those dividers, the steel is not stainless.  just kidding.  please pee in the urinal."

•march madness is about to begin.  can you feel the excitement?  march madness is like taxes is like halloween.  it's that event that comes around once a year that you don't think about at all until it's there, but when it's there it is a very big deal and takes over your life.  i don't quite know what's so special about march madness.  but i do know this;  if i lived in the middle of nowhere and had one chance in my life to travel around the country and be on t.v. and act like a hooligan before returning to my hometown to spend my life working at a gas station and eating lunch at the same diner across the street every day, i would most certainly come up with a systematic order of ordering so as to maximize the number of days between eating the same meal.  but i would come up with some gimmicks to make it more fun, like "French Fry Friday", or "Pancake Month".

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rode through a car wash today.  i think it's safe to add enjoying a car wash to the list of activities that are not as fun once you grow up.  it's a long list now, at least for me, including things like yo-yos, balloon animals, spontaneously stripping off all clothing at the sight of any sprinkler, randomly running around screaming, ice cream trucks, making fun of nerds.  but it's not all bad, there are enjoyable occupations that one adds to his arsenal as he grows up, like enjoying a fine wine, wearing a new pair of socks, finding that parking spot outside your apartment, watching serious movies, having a satisfying conversation about anthony hopkins with an employee in the entertainment section of walmart, revisiting a childhood memory and feeling weird.  it's weird, though, the moment you realize that you're not enjoying something you used to love.  i played candy land a year and a half ago.  hated it.  i think maybe we don't age second by second but we age in spurts.  like a moment of nostalgia ages us a year.  that's one reason i don't go to school reunions.  another is that they're terribly awkward.  hi, how are you?  good, good.  aren't you that guy who used to stare at me weirdly in biology?  no, no, i sat behind him.  i liked your hot friend.  oh, she died.  oh, that's terrible.  OD'd?  no, no fugu.  that's a shame.  well, what do you do now?  i'm an engineer.  that's great, sounds interesting.  and you?  i just got laid off.  oh, that's terrible, i'm so sorry.  yeah, thanks, it's been rough, hey do you want to get out of here, maybe go to my place for some drinks?  <long pause>  well i'm sorry to hear about your job.  yeah, yeah, thanks.  well, i should go, i have to get up early.  yeah, no, definitely, me too.  awkwardness probably also ages you.  unpleasantness, in general.  they say smiling keeps you alive.  laughter is the best medicine.  i think finding things you did as a child that you still enjoy keeps you young.  chocolate is still delicious.  so is ice cream and pizza.  four square will always be fun.  girls will always have cooties and the kid who picks his nose and eats it should always be ostracized and ridiculed.  find these activites and beliefs that you had when you were little and protect them with your life.  they hold your life.  for every new big word you learn, you age.  and for every time you threaten someone with "you do, you die", invite a friend over for video games, or buy a batman lunchbox not because it's silly or vintage but because it's cool, you stay young.  and the younger you stay, the more tragic it will seem when you die.

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as i drove down the highway this evening, a police car with red and blue flashing lights whizzed by in the left lane.  as it came upon unsuspecting cars, they quickly applied their right turn signal (because when confronted with a police car, people use turn signals) and moved aside at the earliest opportunity for the police car to pass.  this situation is one of few in life where one person has unquestioned, ultimate authority.  it made me think of other situations where this is true.  i think someone with a gun has ultimate authority.  when someone has a gun, everyone pretty much does what the gunmen wants.  guns are objects just like any other objects.  they are weapons just like any other weapons.  if someone with a machete walks into a bank, you may be startled, maybe even a little confused.  but i think few would freeze in terror.  maybe it has dulled with continuous use, you may think.  maybe it's too heavy for him to wield or throw it with any real accuracy.  but people unconditionally defer to a gun, always assuming that someone with a gun has both aim and bullets.  the president i guess would have ultimate authority.  the president, however, does not really go out that much.  i don't really know how i would act if i came across the president.  with submission and deference, i would think.  referees in professional sports have ultimate authority.  it's sometimes funny when gigantic, muscle-wielding enormousaurases that grapple and wrestle with each other to no end will stop at the sound of a whistle and helplessly scurry over to the nearest official to whine and plead for a favorable call.  referees are small, nerdy, fat or thin, ugly, and yet they reduce these gargantuans to crying little crybabies who cry all the time and beg for forgiveness.  also, the managers in the supermarket who have their framed picture on the wall have ultimate authority.  supermarkets usually display photographs of managers past and present, so people can look at the evolution over the years, from men to women, from old to young, from glasses to contacts, from supermarket vest to hat to pin to no supermarket paraphernalia at all.  whenever there's a price discrepancy or problem with the register, the cashier summons the person with the key, usually by turning on the flashing checkout light.  this person is the next higher up in the grocery store hierarchy, possessing the key on a neon-colored telephone cord bracelet that will override the cash register.  when this is not enough, a person with a different colored vest is called on the checkout telephone.  if this person cannot solve the problem, the supermarket manager with the framed picture on the wall is called.  few people have actually been honored by the manager in person, but any squabble over price, sale, or validity of coupon is ultimately turned over to this manager who, like a police chief, arrives at crime scene to a briefing by the cashier before vending his expertise.  the manager's word is unquestioned by the customer.  also, i think pilots have ultimate authority.  when they put the seat belts sign on, you sure as hell better buckle your seat belt.

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school is a unique creature.  being in school or being out of school or talking about school stirs up many emotions.  there's no feeling quite like the last day of summer vacation, or the first day of school.  there's no other experience that gives you the same feeling that you get when you are sitting in lecture, feeling yourself getting older, feeling a heachache being born, formulating an estimate of how long it's been since you last looked at the clock, thinking about how lucky you were to be doing nothing last week, beginning to regret how little you appreciated the time off.  little else really intimidates you in the same way that teachers talking about exams do.  school makes time stand still the same way that people say that fun makes time speed up.  i think that's why students don't die from all this time travel, because ultimately the super speed of fun and the sloth-like speed of school add up to normal time.  but people out of school don't have either extreme, i don't think.  they may have fun, but normal people fun, fun without the distinct and precise knowledge of what being in school would be like at that point in time, not warp speed fun but normal time fun.  in the end, people who find ways to have fun that speeds up time die younger, whereas people stuck in jobs they hate and miserable monotony live longer.  i don't really know what i would prefer, or what i may shoot for.  i like having fun as much as the next guy, but if having fun means dying, maybe i'd rather tone it down.  maybe people should keep this in mind, and when having a particularly fun time should excuse themselves, walk home, and wash some dishes or study grammar.  i have two and a half more years of having my fun neatly distributed to me in small quantities.  and for that i am thankful.  but after that time, i think i will struggle with when to have fun.  it's the kind of grown up problem that kids don't really deal with.  they have fun all the time, maybe explaining why you only remember like five things about your childhood.  in the end, i think it's best to go with the flow.  it you're a thrill-seeking daredevil, it's probably best to go out with guns-a-blazing.  if you're more thoughtful, more cautious, you should stay true to your style.  once those fun-loving bastards die, you get to run things.

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growing up is kind of depressing.  you start to look at things differently when as you get older, i think.  you begin to see things in terms of the past rather than the future.  you begin to evaluate yourself, your life, in terms of what you have accomplished and not what you will accomplish.  you begin to look at children with jealousy and hostility and people older than you with disgust and hostility.  you begin to become interested in boring things such as the evening news, good deals on anything, interest rates, a cheaper gas station.  you begin to think that they don't make movies like they used to.  or t.v. shows.  or automobiles or shoes or New Year's Eve television hosts.  you begin to prepare for death in the way most people do; that is, you draft your will, buy a new suit to be buried in, buy a tombstone and a plot, and calmy wait out the remaining days of your life.  some have what are referred to as mid-life crises, where they buy a motorcycle and accompanying leather jacket, convince themselves that they will live forever, and leave town for an endless roadtrip.  these people usually die in car accidents.  people thought o.j. simpson was having a mid-life crisis as he raced down the highway being chased by several police cruisers.  it was later discovered that this chase had some connection to a double homicide that had taken place earlier that week.

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i think people as a whole are good, though at times it may be difficult to see.  but certain situations present themselves that illuminate the benevolence and spirit of the human race.  i remember reading a number of articles after September 11th that discussed the image of the cold, impersonal New Yorker being shed in place of the inspiring character revealed in the face of tragedy.  Similarly, people have shared stories describing the generosity in rebuilding New Orleans after the destruction the city experienced.  And while such dire times call for the strength of our people, certain more trivial occurrences transpire every day that show us what kind of people we are.  I think I witnessed one such moment this past summer while driving with my girlfriend, Tiffany, to Texas.  We were driving down a stretch of highway where road construction had necessitated closing one of two lanes of traffic, creating a long merging traffic jam.  Signs miles in advance instructed drivers to merge into the left lane, and most complied, forming a single file line of slowly moving cars leading into the lane closure.  But while most merged into the left lane at the site of the warning signs, a few bad apples decided to continue to drive in the restricted right lane up until the last barricade, then cutting into the left lane ahead of everybody else who followed the rules and waited their turn.  it was kind of annoying to sit in the left lane, going about 15, and watch cars in the right lane refuse to merge into the left after having been instructed to do so and whiz by at 50 so they could cut in front of everyone.  but what can you do.  just then, a tractor trailer, up ahead in the distance near the lane closure, got into the right lane, blocking these speeding cars from driving past him and cutting to the front.  taking his lead, the cars behind the truck sped up so that there was not enough room for the car now stuck behind the truck to cut into the left lane that the truck had vacated.  so they drove like this, with the truck in the right lane with a line of cars blocked behind him, and the cars in the left lane saving his spot for him, until they came to the lane closure, where the truck was given his spot back and all the cars trying to cut ahead were stuck.  it's the little things sometimes that show you what kind of people we are.  we're good people.

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school

being in graduate school definitely has its advantages, like not making money and having to take exams, but there are subtle differences between graduate school and elementary school that make me yearn for the happy days of my childhood.  for example, we have lunch now like we had lunch when we were little.  but in elementary school lunch meant sitting with your class and discussing video games while the international student who just moved to america sat a few seats away by himself and ate his native food while others pointed and laughed.  and friday was pizza day.  now we're told neither where nor what to eat and, consequently, lunch is less fun.  people study during lunch.  people attend optional lectures during lunch.  students of foreign ethnicities are allowed to eat undisturbed.  and because pizza is only a short walk away, no day is pizza day.  class is not as fun as it used to be.  no passing notes, no fake fart noises to break the boredom, no fire drills, no inside jokes.  i remember in fifth grade during the NCAA tournament we would get to take a 30 minute break during history class on days that UConn was playing and they would wheel in a t.v. and we'd get to watch the game.  i'm afraid that doesn't happen anymore.  the closest we get to watching a basketball game during class is listening to the lecturer lecture during class.  there are advantages to graduate school, however.  for one, hopefully, we study with the knowledge that this is for real the last time we're going to be in school.  that is all.