Does anybody remember those "Bad Idea, Good Idea" segments of Animaniacs? You know, like this one:
I had one of those moments today. Not kissing a total stranger, but a bad idea.
Good idea: Taking my camera to the park.
Bad idea: Taking my camera to the park in my back pocket.
I heard the screen pop as I was getting out of the car to check my mail. So that's no good.
In other news, I have a sale pending on my bike. Rock on.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Sun Also Rises
As promised, I looked up the SparkNotes for The Sun Also Rises after finishing it on Thursday evening.
There are a lot of nuances that I didn't pick up on.
Like the evolution in perceived masculinity that resulted from the experience of World War I, or the aimlessness of the younger generations. Or the fact that our narrator was rendered impotent as a result of his war injuries, and that is why his love won't actually be with him.
Had I read this novel in 1926 when it was published, I might have been a little more shocked by it.
In 2010, I wasn't surprised by weak male characters and strong female, nor by the accepted promiscuity of the token lady of the group. It didn't strike me as odd that a group of 30-somethings spent their days drinking, rather than doing.
The interesting thing about this novel, 85 years later, is actually its normalcy. It's a story that, with a change of wardrobe, could be successful on any prime-time network.
At 24, I'm somewhat younger than the characters in the novel (who were in their mid-thirties). And yet I see an aimlessness and dissatisfaction among my generation not-so-different from that observed by Hemingway. I see a large number of women with strong -- even forceful -- personalities, and a lot of men without.
I remember a conversation I had in college with another student and a professor, in which I pointed out the dynamics of the class. In this particular business course, with a fairly even ratio of genders, the women always led. What I observed then, at 21, had resulted from years of watching the girls encouraged and the boys silenced (or, at best, simply ignored), as if a boy's intelligence was somehow detrimental to a girl's.
It's an unfortunate backlash of the feminist movement (with roots stretching as far back as WWI, apparently), in which we've become so hypersensitive to treating women equally that we've stopped giving men the same respect. In fact, I would say that the expectations placed on boys at a young age are much lower than on girls (though this is not always true, especially in areas where "traditional" gender roles continue to be the norm), and the boys are often meeting those expectations.
However, the primary difference I see between my generation and the characters of Hemingway's novel is that we want to do something with our lives, but we can't. We poured hours and money and hope into our educations, but now can't find jobs (thank you economy). I know dozens of other 20-somethings beside myself, both male and female, who gained their degrees, spent a year or two volunteering with AmeriCorps or Peace Corps, and now possess massive amounts of debt, but no or low-paying jobs.
We want to change the world, and we want to do something that matters with our lives. But can we?
I don't actually know. But in the meantime, a small group of us will be taking our cue from Jake, Brett, Robert Cohn, Bill, and Mike by visiting a wine bar this coming Friday. Perhaps we don't know quite what we're doing with our lives, but we, too, can enjoy some of the finding-out. It won't be Paris/Pamplona/Biarritz, but it should be enjoyable nonetheless. And no, Mom, I won't be drinking an entire bottle. One glass or two is more than enough for me.
Side note: While I didn't actually intend for this post to develop into a critique on the failings of society or the current economic situation, I'm not surprised. I firmly believe that the longevity of "classic" literature is due, in part, to its ability to make us ask difficult questions. After all, most of the books that have withstood the test of time are not fairy tales, but critiques.
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Like the evolution in perceived masculinity that resulted from the experience of World War I, or the aimlessness of the younger generations. Or the fact that our narrator was rendered impotent as a result of his war injuries, and that is why his love won't actually be with him.
Had I read this novel in 1926 when it was published, I might have been a little more shocked by it.
In 2010, I wasn't surprised by weak male characters and strong female, nor by the accepted promiscuity of the token lady of the group. It didn't strike me as odd that a group of 30-somethings spent their days drinking, rather than doing.
The interesting thing about this novel, 85 years later, is actually its normalcy. It's a story that, with a change of wardrobe, could be successful on any prime-time network.
At 24, I'm somewhat younger than the characters in the novel (who were in their mid-thirties). And yet I see an aimlessness and dissatisfaction among my generation not-so-different from that observed by Hemingway. I see a large number of women with strong -- even forceful -- personalities, and a lot of men without.
I remember a conversation I had in college with another student and a professor, in which I pointed out the dynamics of the class. In this particular business course, with a fairly even ratio of genders, the women always led. What I observed then, at 21, had resulted from years of watching the girls encouraged and the boys silenced (or, at best, simply ignored), as if a boy's intelligence was somehow detrimental to a girl's.
It's an unfortunate backlash of the feminist movement (with roots stretching as far back as WWI, apparently), in which we've become so hypersensitive to treating women equally that we've stopped giving men the same respect. In fact, I would say that the expectations placed on boys at a young age are much lower than on girls (though this is not always true, especially in areas where "traditional" gender roles continue to be the norm), and the boys are often meeting those expectations.
However, the primary difference I see between my generation and the characters of Hemingway's novel is that we want to do something with our lives, but we can't. We poured hours and money and hope into our educations, but now can't find jobs (thank you economy). I know dozens of other 20-somethings beside myself, both male and female, who gained their degrees, spent a year or two volunteering with AmeriCorps or Peace Corps, and now possess massive amounts of debt, but no or low-paying jobs.
 |
| (via) |
I don't actually know. But in the meantime, a small group of us will be taking our cue from Jake, Brett, Robert Cohn, Bill, and Mike by visiting a wine bar this coming Friday. Perhaps we don't know quite what we're doing with our lives, but we, too, can enjoy some of the finding-out. It won't be Paris/Pamplona/Biarritz, but it should be enjoyable nonetheless. And no, Mom, I won't be drinking an entire bottle. One glass or two is more than enough for me.
Side note: While I didn't actually intend for this post to develop into a critique on the failings of society or the current economic situation, I'm not surprised. I firmly believe that the longevity of "classic" literature is due, in part, to its ability to make us ask difficult questions. After all, most of the books that have withstood the test of time are not fairy tales, but critiques.
1st Annual Gypsy Picnic Trailer Food Festival
I'm becoming more Austin-y already.
I bought a bike the other night. I already have a bike (actually, if you count the one at my parents' house, I have three...), but what I have is a beach cruiser. Perfectly suitable for the flat terrain of Galveston and the coastal plains. Not suitable for Hill Country. But don't tell the poor souls who might find it on Craigslist in the next few days.
Buying a bike wasn't actually my intention on Friday night when I trekked up to the Yellow Bike Project on Webberville Road.
According to their website, Ausin's Yellow Bike Project "is an all-volunteer initiative to put bicycles on the streets of Austin and Central Texas by operating community bike shops, teaching bike mechanics and maintenance, and acting as a local bike advocacy group."
Interesting, right?
Besides using volunteers to fix up bikes for public utilization, YBP also engages in special projects as the opportunities arise. What interested me most was the "Earn-A-Bike" program in which, in exchange for a certain number of volunteer hours logged and projects completed, participants earn the right (and knowledge) to build their own bike for free using the various used parts and frames found in the shop.
That's what I intended to sign up for on Friday night when I walked in. Nathan, one of the shop coordinators (highly skilled volunteers who run the shop's open hours and offer their knowledge to customers and volunteers), was very helpful in telling me more about the project, how things work around the shop, and what the Earn-A-Bike program actually entails.
I ended up deciding to buy an already-complete bike, after test-riding it around the neighborhood. What I walked away with was a ready-to-ride bicycle, a greater appreciation for the work YBP is doing, and plans for the future, when I'll be back at the shop, volunteering to help out and learning more about bikes in the process.
Yesterday afternoon, after acquiring a helmet, I rode my new bike down to Auditorium Shores, the site of Austin's 1st Annual Gypsy Picnic Trailer Food Festival. The ride alternated between terrifying (going downhill) and grueling (heading back to the top). Switching from a beach cruiser to a mountain/road bike takes some getting used to, and I was a little unsure in my riding, which means I wasn't very stable. But the result was even better than I imagined -- I saw an entirely new side of Austin.
Being on a bike forces you to slow down, and to take in the scenery. Like this view from a hilltop school:
Beautiful, right?
So let's talk about the Gypsy Picnic.
When I got there I was hot, sweaty, and in serious need of agua. So I fought through the crowds to the bar tent at the back, where lines were short, grabbed two bottles of water, and walked out of the festival to the river where I could hear the music, but crowds were minimal.
When I was ready, I went back into the festival area to brave the lines.
Oh, the lines.
The Gypsy Picnic website has a running twitter-er of tweets mentioning the picnic. Most are excellent responses. Some are calling it a massive failure.
If the event was a failure, it was only because of their success. No joke. The event itself was fantastic. The atmosphere was fun, the weather was wonderful, the food was great (or so I assume) -- there were just too many people there. I arrived around three, halfway through the festival, and already some vendors were selling out. The lines wound back from each trailer and tent and mingled together so that you were never entirely sure who was in line, or for which trailer.
I found the Izzoz Tacos trailer (which, I am told, will change my life), and got in line. But, as I mentioned, it was past three, and I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. I was hungry, and realized something: I can go to any of these place at any time. So I abandoned my post, and was walking out of the festival when I ran into a couple of friends. We walked back through the festival so they could understand just how crowded it was, and then we went to Home Slice.
Best pizza ever. Just saying.
I bought a bike the other night. I already have a bike (actually, if you count the one at my parents' house, I have three...), but what I have is a beach cruiser. Perfectly suitable for the flat terrain of Galveston and the coastal plains. Not suitable for Hill Country. But don't tell the poor souls who might find it on Craigslist in the next few days.
 |
| (via) |
According to their website, Ausin's Yellow Bike Project "is an all-volunteer initiative to put bicycles on the streets of Austin and Central Texas by operating community bike shops, teaching bike mechanics and maintenance, and acting as a local bike advocacy group."
Interesting, right?
Besides using volunteers to fix up bikes for public utilization, YBP also engages in special projects as the opportunities arise. What interested me most was the "Earn-A-Bike" program in which, in exchange for a certain number of volunteer hours logged and projects completed, participants earn the right (and knowledge) to build their own bike for free using the various used parts and frames found in the shop.
That's what I intended to sign up for on Friday night when I walked in. Nathan, one of the shop coordinators (highly skilled volunteers who run the shop's open hours and offer their knowledge to customers and volunteers), was very helpful in telling me more about the project, how things work around the shop, and what the Earn-A-Bike program actually entails.
I ended up deciding to buy an already-complete bike, after test-riding it around the neighborhood. What I walked away with was a ready-to-ride bicycle, a greater appreciation for the work YBP is doing, and plans for the future, when I'll be back at the shop, volunteering to help out and learning more about bikes in the process.
Yesterday afternoon, after acquiring a helmet, I rode my new bike down to Auditorium Shores, the site of Austin's 1st Annual Gypsy Picnic Trailer Food Festival. The ride alternated between terrifying (going downhill) and grueling (heading back to the top). Switching from a beach cruiser to a mountain/road bike takes some getting used to, and I was a little unsure in my riding, which means I wasn't very stable. But the result was even better than I imagined -- I saw an entirely new side of Austin.
Being on a bike forces you to slow down, and to take in the scenery. Like this view from a hilltop school:
Beautiful, right?
So let's talk about the Gypsy Picnic.
When I got there I was hot, sweaty, and in serious need of agua. So I fought through the crowds to the bar tent at the back, where lines were short, grabbed two bottles of water, and walked out of the festival to the river where I could hear the music, but crowds were minimal.
When I was ready, I went back into the festival area to brave the lines.
Oh, the lines.
The Gypsy Picnic website has a running twitter-er of tweets mentioning the picnic. Most are excellent responses. Some are calling it a massive failure.
If the event was a failure, it was only because of their success. No joke. The event itself was fantastic. The atmosphere was fun, the weather was wonderful, the food was great (or so I assume) -- there were just too many people there. I arrived around three, halfway through the festival, and already some vendors were selling out. The lines wound back from each trailer and tent and mingled together so that you were never entirely sure who was in line, or for which trailer.
I found the Izzoz Tacos trailer (which, I am told, will change my life), and got in line. But, as I mentioned, it was past three, and I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. I was hungry, and realized something: I can go to any of these place at any time. So I abandoned my post, and was walking out of the festival when I ran into a couple of friends. We walked back through the festival so they could understand just how crowded it was, and then we went to Home Slice.
Best pizza ever. Just saying.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
And just like that, I have a social life.
So a friend and I were hanging out at one of the bars downtown about a month ago when I ordered a drink called the "Hemingway." A couple of sips in, I spilled it all over the table, but that incident is of no real consequence to this story. The two of us sat there, considering the sweet flavor of the drink and debating what a cocktail named Hemingway should really be made of.
I believe the consensus was bitterness and misogyny.
I'm reading Ernest Hemingway's debut novel right now -- The Sun Also Rises. And while I'm not finding it particularly bitter or misogynistic (yet), I do find it quite odd. Take, for instance, one of my favorite quotes thus far:
"The road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs."
And then there was a bit of discussion about the cause of the Civil War being related to the fact that Lincoln, Grant, and Davis were all in love with each other -- and Lincoln only freed the slaves because he lost a bet.
Both of those little tidbits were treasures from the tongue of a single character, and oh how lucky we are to have him in the story.
The rest of the book, thus far, has involved an amount of wine that would make even a frat boy blush, various triangles of both love and lust, and a whole lot of upper-class snobbery. I'm certain that there's some magic symbolism in there, so I'll shame my high school English teacher and skim the sparknotes when I'm finished.
The last few days, I've had only my lunch breaks and a few quiet moments in the evenings to read, thanks to a full social schedule and a lot of Tex Mex.
Monday I met up with a an acquaintance I met during ACL weekend; we'd been planning to go get tacos since that day, and though our dinner was short (she had to run off to church to serve with the Interfaith Hospitality Network, a collaborative effort to care for Austin's homeless), we pretty much decided we'd be BFFs. I think I'm also going to be BFFs with Torchy's Tacos, where we ate:
We went to the permanent structure on S. First, but there are several Torchy's trailers around the city, all of which claim their tacos are "Damn Good." I agree. The fried avocado taco is A-MAZING. Get it. And then go running. I don't even want to think about how many calories are in there.
Then last night I had an awkward blind friend date with someone who knows people I know. It wasn't actually awkward, except for the fact that's she's like 10 inches taller than me. Seriously. Yes, I'm really short. Shut up.
We went here:
Trudy's Tex Mex. Just East of Guadalupe on 30th. The food is great. The Mexican Margaritas are killer. It was Top-Shelf Tuesday, which means all the top-shelf liquors were discounted. We still split one, and I still felt it. Don't worry, though. I washed it down with an A-MA-ZING portobello quesadilla. Win. It was even amazing as microwaved leftovers today.
Tex-Mex friend-date number three was tonight, with a girl I met when she rode with me from northern Michigan to Indianapolis for a conference a few years ago. Random, I know, but she just moved to Austin, so we got together to for food and (as we found out today) to also celebrate her new job! We went here:
Chuy's Fine Tex-Mex on Barton Springs. I went to one in Houston a couple of months ago with other friends from Michigan, so that's apparently a new theme for me. It's good though, really good. Like Trudy's, they also boast excellent margaritas (though a little less lethal), and it was happy hour so they were cheap (which DEFINITELY makes me happy). I got the strawberry. And the veggie enchiladas. The atmosphere is really fun too -- it's old-school diner meets ridiculous mish-mash of awesome.
After all that, I'm officially Tex-Mex'd OUT. Next stop...Ethiopian. Oh, and the 1st Ever Gypsy Picnic food festival this weekend at Auditorium Shores. Pretty much every food trailer that matters will be there. I'm super stoked.
Little side note...I'm realizing that I'm giving these places free publicity. But since I have a booming readership of um, one (hi Kyle!), I'm not too concerned about it just yet. When I get up to 10 I'll start asking for royalties.
I believe the consensus was bitterness and misogyny.
I'm reading Ernest Hemingway's debut novel right now -- The Sun Also Rises. And while I'm not finding it particularly bitter or misogynistic (yet), I do find it quite odd. Take, for instance, one of my favorite quotes thus far:
"The road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs."
And then there was a bit of discussion about the cause of the Civil War being related to the fact that Lincoln, Grant, and Davis were all in love with each other -- and Lincoln only freed the slaves because he lost a bet.
Both of those little tidbits were treasures from the tongue of a single character, and oh how lucky we are to have him in the story.
The rest of the book, thus far, has involved an amount of wine that would make even a frat boy blush, various triangles of both love and lust, and a whole lot of upper-class snobbery. I'm certain that there's some magic symbolism in there, so I'll shame my high school English teacher and skim the sparknotes when I'm finished.
The last few days, I've had only my lunch breaks and a few quiet moments in the evenings to read, thanks to a full social schedule and a lot of Tex Mex.
Monday I met up with a an acquaintance I met during ACL weekend; we'd been planning to go get tacos since that day, and though our dinner was short (she had to run off to church to serve with the Interfaith Hospitality Network, a collaborative effort to care for Austin's homeless), we pretty much decided we'd be BFFs. I think I'm also going to be BFFs with Torchy's Tacos, where we ate:
 |
| (via) |
We went to the permanent structure on S. First, but there are several Torchy's trailers around the city, all of which claim their tacos are "Damn Good." I agree. The fried avocado taco is A-MAZING. Get it. And then go running. I don't even want to think about how many calories are in there.
Then last night I had an awkward blind friend date with someone who knows people I know. It wasn't actually awkward, except for the fact that's she's like 10 inches taller than me. Seriously. Yes, I'm really short. Shut up.
We went here:
 |
| (via) |
Tex-Mex friend-date number three was tonight, with a girl I met when she rode with me from northern Michigan to Indianapolis for a conference a few years ago. Random, I know, but she just moved to Austin, so we got together to for food and (as we found out today) to also celebrate her new job! We went here:
 |
| (via) |
After all that, I'm officially Tex-Mex'd OUT. Next stop...Ethiopian. Oh, and the 1st Ever Gypsy Picnic food festival this weekend at Auditorium Shores. Pretty much every food trailer that matters will be there. I'm super stoked.
Little side note...I'm realizing that I'm giving these places free publicity. But since I have a booming readership of um, one (hi Kyle!), I'm not too concerned about it just yet. When I get up to 10 I'll start asking for royalties.
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