Wish I had said it first
"Media's the plural of mediocre." --Jimmy Breslin
Friday, July 23, 2004
Wondering here in Allentown
Business this week has brought me to the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton area of Pennsylvania, and of course, I have Billy Joel stuck in my head. And it's getting very hard to staaaaaaaaayy ...
In my quick tour of the area, I have to question why anybody did stay. It's a shell of a city. The local section of Thursday's newspaper was essentially a six-page crime report. The downtown Bethlehem area has some very cool architecture, but it morphs quickly into a depressing neighborhood of dilapidated row houses, places whose occupants would apparently rather mill around outside than inside. A city government official in Easton made news earlier this week by calling a newspaper reporter a "stupid bitch" in the middle of a public hearing. (To his credit, he did resign the next day.) Some of the surrounding area is very pretty, but it doesn't take long to wind up in another depressing little town where nothing has happened since 1940. And normally, I like small towns.
In a word: Yuk.
The last thing you see before the little regional jet lands at the Lehigh Valley International Airport is a big hole where a strip-mining operation kept families fed for the first half of the 20th century. The hole's still there, and there's nothing anybody can get out of it and nothing anybody can do about it. It said to me, "Well, we got ours; you go find a way to get yours."
It's a shame. Small cities in the United States should be centers of innovation and ideas and creativity. Industry and the trades should provide a living wage (Everybody had a pretty good shot/To get at least as far as their old man got). I understand how capitalism works, but I think we're starting to see some of the long-term effects of capitalism on humans. I hope I'm not right about that.
Business this week has brought me to the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton area of Pennsylvania, and of course, I have Billy Joel stuck in my head. And it's getting very hard to staaaaaaaaayy ...
In my quick tour of the area, I have to question why anybody did stay. It's a shell of a city. The local section of Thursday's newspaper was essentially a six-page crime report. The downtown Bethlehem area has some very cool architecture, but it morphs quickly into a depressing neighborhood of dilapidated row houses, places whose occupants would apparently rather mill around outside than inside. A city government official in Easton made news earlier this week by calling a newspaper reporter a "stupid bitch" in the middle of a public hearing. (To his credit, he did resign the next day.) Some of the surrounding area is very pretty, but it doesn't take long to wind up in another depressing little town where nothing has happened since 1940. And normally, I like small towns.
In a word: Yuk.
The last thing you see before the little regional jet lands at the Lehigh Valley International Airport is a big hole where a strip-mining operation kept families fed for the first half of the 20th century. The hole's still there, and there's nothing anybody can get out of it and nothing anybody can do about it. It said to me, "Well, we got ours; you go find a way to get yours."
It's a shame. Small cities in the United States should be centers of innovation and ideas and creativity. Industry and the trades should provide a living wage (Everybody had a pretty good shot/To get at least as far as their old man got). I understand how capitalism works, but I think we're starting to see some of the long-term effects of capitalism on humans. I hope I'm not right about that.
Summertime blahs
My recent reticence is not attributable to anything other than that I'm receiving an awful lot of input these days. But that's a good thing:
This job, about which I was so worried two months ago, is starting to pan out very well. I'm enjoying my little adventure into the real world, and learning a lot that has nothing to do with software. (Thankfully, I'm learning a lot that does relate to software, in an effort to actually keep the job.)
We're getting settled on the Western Edge. The house is good, the yard is good, the neighborhood is good. Kids like it, The Wife likes it, I like it. Nothing about which to complain, or expand upon.
And my life is a large step forward toward completion because I now, like 94 percent of the rest of the world, have an iPod. (Happy birthday to me! and thanks, guys.) From you, I seek recommendations for new stuff to put on this little white box of joy.
My recent reticence is not attributable to anything other than that I'm receiving an awful lot of input these days. But that's a good thing:
And my life is a large step forward toward completion because I now, like 94 percent of the rest of the world, have an iPod. (Happy birthday to me! and thanks, guys.) From you, I seek recommendations for new stuff to put on this little white box of joy.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
A decade of delight
Here in a few minutes, as I write this, I'll be the parent of a 10-year-old daughter. Time flies when you're having fun.
The Old Daughter has seen a lot in 10 years. She has moved 10 times. She has so far only spent one full academic year at the same school. She's been in the tailwind of our pursuit of the Best Possible Situation, and thankfully, she has been very adaptable. I hope to not have to be testing that adaptability again any time soon.
Along the way, she welcomed a brother and a sister after spending almost five years as an only child. She adapted to that well, too, and has been a wonderful role model for both of her siblings.
Sometimes I forget she's a few minutes away from being 10. She can analyze thoughts and concepts in nearly adult fashion; you can tell there's a lot going on behind those eyeglasses, and it's fun to run ideas past a brain that performs at a high level and is unburdened by years of preconceived notions. She also has a maddening tendency to act half her age sometimes. She's a wonderful and complex person, and it's fun to watch her become a person.
I don't have a favorite child. No parent of multiple children does. But each of our children is special in his or her own way. The Young Daughter will always be the Baby. The Boy will always be the only boy. The Old Daughter will always be the first.
A couple of our regular readers are going to become parents soon. I don't claim to be the least bit qualified to give out parental advice, and wouldn't for a second think of doing so. But I do hope they feel a little bit better about their impending parenthood by participating in this forum, and following along as I muddle my way through it -- if nothing else, hopefully, they'll gain the security of knowing that if I can do it, they certainly can.
Anyway, happy birthday, Old Daughter. And thanks for being you.
Here in a few minutes, as I write this, I'll be the parent of a 10-year-old daughter. Time flies when you're having fun.
The Old Daughter has seen a lot in 10 years. She has moved 10 times. She has so far only spent one full academic year at the same school. She's been in the tailwind of our pursuit of the Best Possible Situation, and thankfully, she has been very adaptable. I hope to not have to be testing that adaptability again any time soon.
Along the way, she welcomed a brother and a sister after spending almost five years as an only child. She adapted to that well, too, and has been a wonderful role model for both of her siblings.
Sometimes I forget she's a few minutes away from being 10. She can analyze thoughts and concepts in nearly adult fashion; you can tell there's a lot going on behind those eyeglasses, and it's fun to run ideas past a brain that performs at a high level and is unburdened by years of preconceived notions. She also has a maddening tendency to act half her age sometimes. She's a wonderful and complex person, and it's fun to watch her become a person.
I don't have a favorite child. No parent of multiple children does. But each of our children is special in his or her own way. The Young Daughter will always be the Baby. The Boy will always be the only boy. The Old Daughter will always be the first.
A couple of our regular readers are going to become parents soon. I don't claim to be the least bit qualified to give out parental advice, and wouldn't for a second think of doing so. But I do hope they feel a little bit better about their impending parenthood by participating in this forum, and following along as I muddle my way through it -- if nothing else, hopefully, they'll gain the security of knowing that if I can do it, they certainly can.
Anyway, happy birthday, Old Daughter. And thanks for being you.